MYSTIC NEDJEF, THE SHIA MECCA 



597 



In the heart of Nedjef, its great dome 

 visible for miles on the surrounding des- 

 ert, stands the magnificent mosque of 

 Abbas, the shrine that draws the teeming 

 throng from all the Middle East. 



tile;s of gold 



Turning from the native quarter, we 

 came to the long straight bazaar leading 

 to the mosque. I was struck with the 

 difference in the looks of the Nedjef 

 people and the crowds at Kerbela. Few 

 Persians were about ; the folk seemed all 

 Arabs. Many uncouth, swaggering des- 

 ert men were among them, their long 

 hair, faded dress, and camel sticks, or 

 oversupply of guns and side-arms, mark- 

 ing them as from the wild places. There 

 was a spirit of crude, barbaric primitive- 

 ness in the crowd that surged past. The 

 little touches of outside influence one 

 sees at Bagdad, like an occasional Euro- 

 pean hat or an imported overcoat, were 

 all lacking at Nedjef. Here was old 

 Arabia in original bindings. 



The mosque we came on suddenly, for 

 the crowded bazaar street ends in an open 

 plaza before this dazzling structure. 



In amazement I gazed on its wonder- 

 ful facade ; golden tiles and fancy silver- 

 work rise above and about the great por- 

 tal, and across the wide entrance is hung 

 a giant chain of brass, worn smooth and 

 shiny from contact with the millions of 

 turbans, tarbooshes, and keffeyehs which 

 have brushed under it in centuries gone 

 by. This chain is so hung that all who 

 enter the mosque must bow. 



Through this open gate, from where 

 we stood, some 20 yards back, I could see 

 the base of the great mosque itself. To 

 my profound surprise, the great gold 

 tiles which cover the dome also run to 

 the very base of the mosque ! And on 

 the inside of the walls about the court 

 were more gold tiles. Above the outer 

 portal, too, on the outside, were sprawling 

 Arabic characters 20 inches high, seem- 

 ingly cut from sheets of gold ! What 

 must this barbaric splendor have cost ! 



The cost of the wonderful temple itself 

 is but a bagatelle compared with the value 

 of the treasure in its vault. For ages, be 

 it known, Indian princes, shahs, and no- 

 bles of the Shia faith have made pre- 

 cious gifts to this temple at Nedjef, pour- 



ing into it a priceless stream of jewels, 

 gold, and plate. A British Indian army 

 officer told me that the looting of the 

 Nedjef mosque was a favorite dream of 

 soldiers in the Middle East, who looked 

 forward to the day when war may sweep 

 an army of invasion into Nedjef. The 

 true enormity of the treasure at Nedjef 

 was only brought to light in recent years, 

 when the Shah of Persia made the Hahj 

 and the pent-up wealth was revealed to 

 his royal gaze by its zealous official 

 keeper, the "Kilitdar." 



But no Christian has ever seen the 

 inner glories of the great mosque of 

 Abbas at Nedjef. The contrast between 

 two faiths is striking: a Moslem walking 

 into a Christian church is made welcome ; 

 a Christian who walked into the Moslem 

 mosque at Nedjef would be slain as a 

 defiler ; yet both claim the same God ! 



Lost in admiration of the splendid 

 structure before me, I had failed to note 

 the gathering crowd of Shias who now 

 packed the plaza about us. It was the 

 anxious voice of the zaptieh urging that 

 I move away that finally roused me. In 

 an instant, it seemed, fully 200 people 

 had gathered in the small square before 

 the mosque and were glaring at me and 

 asking why and whence I had come. 



One zaptieh, feeling my dignity as- 

 sailed, foolishly struck or pushed a Shia 

 who had cursed my religion and spat at 

 me. A serious disturbance seemed about 

 to break out, but we managed to slip 

 away through a narrow side passage and 

 thus avoid the crowd. As it was, a hun- 

 dred or more men and boys followed, nor 

 left off until we passed through the south 

 gate of Nedjef and out onto the desert 

 for safety. 



More human bodies are buried in the 

 plain outside the walls of Nedjef, it is 

 said, than in any other one spot on earth. 

 Myriads of fancy tombs, terminating at 

 the top in little blue-tiled domes, rise 

 from the plain. I asked how many might 

 be buried there. "Allah knows all their 

 names," said a zaptieh, simply. And all 

 the millions of pilgrims who have come 

 in ages past with corpses for burial have 

 also brought money to spend. The richer 

 the man who brings the body, the greater 

 the toll taken. Twenty thousand dollars 

 was spent on one funeral. 



