To compare the landscape of Uzbekistan to being on a movie set seems somewhat futile and impertinent to its glorious history. Yet to articulate the sentiments evoked by its architectural wonders, that stand like sentinels scattered throughout the land, seems beyond expression. A visit to Uzbekistan is an experience that etches itself onto the hearts of its visitors. The indigo-saturated minarets are real life caricatures of Islam and all that it can offer to this corporeal existence. I entered the country with confidence that I understood its history and culture, envisaging the vivacious Silk Road and daydreaming of the cadence of the azan. I soon realised that literature and historical records prepare your mind, but not for the joy and melancholy, both of which penetrate your soul.
A Little History
Uzbekistan, in almost all travel guides, is depicted as the epicentre of the Silk Road. An aroma of exotic spices linger in your thoughts while you are inundated by the prism of colours that this cultural oasis has been imbued with. The region has seen numerous empires come and go; many flourished on its soils, some pillaged its pride and others preserved its magnificence. From the ancient Persians and the Arabs to the Mongols, and much later, Soviets, the region now known as Uzbekistan is a mix of Islamic splendour, Russian influence and the ruins of the ancients. Although early Uzbek history is rather cryptic, there is no uncertainty concerning the ‘Golden Age’ the region witnessed beginning from the 8th century with the arrival of Islam. Around every bend and crevice you will come upon remnants left by medieval Muslims.
The Arab conquest of Central Asia was completed in the 8th century CE. Along with the burgeoning faith of Islam, they brought with them the written alphabet, establishing Arabic as the primary language of literature, politics and commerce. Soon thereafter, the Abbasid Caliphate established its rule, allowing the Iranian Saman aristocracy to rise. Under the Samanid Empire, centred in Khorasan, Uzbekistan witnessed a remarkable period of academic and cultural opulence for over a century. Bukhara rose to become one of the wealthiest and most significant centres of the Islamic world, rivalling Baghdad, Cairo and Cordoba. It is from Samanid Central Asia that many of the world’s most eminent figures were nurtured and educated.
They include great writers like the court poet Rudaki (859-940/1), known as the “Adam of poets,” and the physician Abu Ali ibn-Sina (980–1037), who is often referred to as the founder of modern medicine. There was the astronomer Al-Biruni (973–1046), who is known to have written at least 146 books; mathematician Al-Khorezmi ( 787–850) who introduced algebra (Al-Jebr was the title of one of his mathematical works), and from whose name the word ‘algorithm’ is derived. In addition to these scholars, Uzbekistan was the homeland of prominent Muslim theologians whose work has stood the test of time; they include, Imam Al Bukhari (810-870), Imam At-Termizi (824-892), Abu-L-Lays As-Samarqandi (911-985) and many more.
Taking a walk through the streets of Tashkent, Samarkand and Bukhara, one is forced to recognise the enduring legacy of these scholars. Juxtaposed with the harshness of Soviet architecture (and also the nightclubs), stand ancient institutes whose walls continue to sing the praises of God in scintillating hues of azure. Amongst them are the Ulugbek and Mir Arab Madrassas of Bukhara, the Registan Square whose three grand edifices are among the world’s oldest preserved madrassas and the Kulkedash Madrassa of Tashkent. Cognisant of Uzbekistan’s vast history, I attempted to visualise the now empty madrassa classrooms teeming with dedicated students, and the moments in which they and their teachers realised illustrious truths, oblivious that their discoveries would transcend history.
The rooms of these ancient madrassas and mosques now house artisans and souvenir shops, and the bargaining of shop owners and tourists reverberate through their ancient walls. I felt a profound hollowness and dysphoria. Aside from the physical structures themselves, there is little left to remind you that this was once the Islamic centre of the world.
In the 1920’s, Islam was banned by the Soviet government in Central Asia. Adherents were prevented from practising their faith, mosques were closed down and religious scholars persecuted. Several generations were raised in an environment hostile to religion, and though Islam did not die out completely, religious knowledge and practice diminished considerably. Public displays of religious practice were frowned upon even after Uzbekistan’s independence, and only in recent years has the azan been broadcasted from mosque loud speakers (the first time in a decade).
Though there has been an ‘Islamic revival‘ of sorts in recent years, the madrassas are no longer used for their original purpose. A worldly desire now permeates the air, with the result of desensitising one to these physical reminders of God-consciousness (for that is what it takes to create such beauty) and visitors seem intoxicated by a desire to achieve that coveted ‘Insta aesthetic,’ seemingly unaware of the meaning inherent in the beauty of the walls.
Tourism growth
Under President Shavkat Mirziyoev, the tourism industry in Uzbekistan is growing fast. More that 85 nationalities can now travel to Uzbekistan visa-free, and a new law defining various aspects related to the tourism industry was signed in July 2019. A decree relating to ‘pilgrim tourism’ was also included, encouraging members of sufi tariqahs to travel to the country. The number of foreign visitors to the country more than doubled in 2018 when compared to previous year, and according to the tourist board, almost 5 million people are expected to visit Uzbekistan in 2019.
In August 2019, the government organised the World Influencers Congress, a five-day trip for 93 influencers from 40 countries, with the hope of boosting the profile of the country as a world tourist destination. And so, social media platforms, such as Instagram, were flooded with impossibly beautiful people, fully admitting their ignorance of the country’s history, using its great monuments as a mere backdrop for that ‘perfect’ Insta shot.
Concluding remarks
The monuments of Uzbekistan speak of a beautiful legacy of scholarship, worship and achievement. They are an opportunity for us to remember the souls that left behind this beauty, and their purpose in doing so, for as Iqbal said, only works conceived by the men of God are immune from the shafts of time.
As we gaze up towards the sky, captivated by the artistry of these ancient structures, we should envisage the countless worshippers who wandered through their doors and the scholars who spent their lives solidifying knowledge for the generations to follow. Their legacies should serve to inspire us in our faith.
I felt hollow and humbled. Captivated and withdrawn. Uzbekistan is not a movie set. It is a myriad of joy and melancholy.
