What is a whirling dervish?
To many its a mysterious performer, one that conjures up visions of ancient times and secret societies. To the devoted, it’s an person expressing religious devotion.
Throughout Istanbul, many restaurants and clubs promote whirling dervish shows, so tourists can witness the transformation from individual to dervish. But to experience the true act of devotion, one has to go beyond the local nightclub or dinner theatre.
During my visit to Bursa, an industrial town in Turkey, I was invited to a local community centre, which served as a gathering place and education centre for Muslims who are part of the Dervish sect. The community hosted the dervish ceremony and welcomed anyone to attend, free of charge, to see this act of devotion which is performed each evening by a select group within the sect.
In the middle of the community centre, a two-storey area seated men on the ground floor and women on the second floor. A group of musicians and singers entered first – dressed in long caftans, each wearing a distinctive felt hat. A group of devotees entered, honouring two elders and reciting a prayer in unison.
As the musicians played and the singers chanted in Arabic, the devotees begin to move around the central floor, beginning their transformation into a whirling dervish. Each devotee had shed their black cloak and found a spot on the floor, moving in a circular motion.
As the rhythmic sounds flowed over the crowd, I could see many of them had closed their eyes, feeling the energy building in the room. I watched the dervishes, eyes closed, whirling in their white caftans, with their arms stretched up in supplication.The dervishes believe that through this action, they attain a place closer to God, and their actions a prayer to connect to God.
As the ceremony proceeded and the music continued, I felt relaxed and calm, my focus on the dervishes’ motion below me. I kept snapping photographs, trying to not draw attention, and saw everyone’s eyes were drawn downwards, reciting silent prayers and watching the dervishes. The energy in the room had shifted, from an initial excitement to a uniform calmness, with the song and music matching the dervishes whirling movements.
After 45 minutes, the ceremony ended as the dervishes slowed their motions, lined up against the wall, said a prayer and slowly left the room. I sat there for a moment in contemplation, not wanting to break the silence. Everyone left the room quietly, heading to the courtyard for tea or coffee in the cool evening air.
I felt privileged to witness the dervish cermony, not being able to quickly discern what I had seen, but understanding it was not a theatrical or staged performance. It was a rare view into a world of religious devotees, still misunderstood by many.