5 mosques that show how Islamic architecture adapts to place

Medina, Cordoba, Xi’an, Djenne and Istanbul: 5 mosques that show how one simple idea of a house of prayer takes the shape of each land.

Elegant mosque domes and minarets against a clear blue sky in Jawa Barat, Indonesia.

Image: Mohammed Alim. Pexels licence, Pexels

A mosque needs very little: a clean place for salah, the ritual prayer, facing Mecca. The Prophet Muhammad (peace be upon him) said that the earth had been made for him a place of prayer and of purification, so a field or a bare floor will serve.[1] Everything else is local.

That is why a mosque in Mali looks nothing like one in China, and both are mosques. The five below run from a courtyard of mud brick and palm trunks in seventh-century Medina to an Ottoman skyline of domes, and each shows a community building with the materials and forms it already knew.

Number 1: The Prophet's Mosque in Medina

When the Prophet reached Medina in 622 he had a mosque built where his camel knelt, on a yard used for drying dates that he bought from two orphan boys. The walls were of mud brick and the roof of palm trunks and fronds. At first it faced Jerusalem, and the qibla, the direction of prayer, was turned to the Kaaba some months later.[2]

It was a place of prayer, a school, a council and a shelter for the poor, and some of the destitute Companions known as the People of the Bench slept inside it. Sahih al-Bukhari records that Umar later rebuilt it in the same materials, and that Uthman rebuilt it with carved stone, plaster and a teak roof.[3] Every later mosque is a copy, in some measure, of this plain courtyard. The green dome over his tomb was added many centuries after his death.

Number 2: The Mezquita of Cordoba

Begun in 785 or 786 by Abd al-Rahman I, who had escaped the Abbasid revolution and founded an Umayyad state in al-Andalus, the mosque was extended over two centuries by his successors, among them Abd al-Rahman II, al-Hakam II and al-Mansur. It is famous for its forest of double arches in red brick and white stone, which lets a very large hall be supported by short columns, many of them taken from older Roman and Visigothic buildings.[4]

Ismail al Faruqi and Lois Lamya al Faruqi, in The Cultural Atlas of Islam, read the plan as an endless pattern in building. The hall has no single focus: a visitor entering from the courtyard sees only rows of arches and cannot grasp the whole until he has walked its aisles.[5] The design could be extended without being spoiled, and the later rulers did exactly that, enlarging it in 848 and again in 987 in both length and breadth.[6]

Elegant monochrome photograph of Al Noor Mosque, Sharjah, with clear sky.
Image: Kirandeep Singh Walia. Pexels licence, Pexels

The mihrab, the niche marking the direction of prayer, was rebuilt under al-Hakam II in the tenth century and is covered in gold mosaic in a Byzantine manner. The mosque shows a ruler borrowing freely from the lands he governed. Some early Muslim voices warned against showy mosques, and Bukhari reports the remark of Ibn Abbas that people would one day adorn them as Jews and Christians had adorned their places of worship.[3] After the Christian conquest in 1236 the building became a church, and a cathedral was built inside it in the sixteenth century.

Number 3: The Great Mosque of Xi'an

Tradition dates the Xi’an mosque to 742, in the Tang period, and the present buildings are mostly from the Ming dynasty, with later repairs. It follows the plan of a Chinese temple: a sequence of courtyards, pavilions and gateways along a single axis, with a tower in the form of a pagoda from which the call to prayer was once given. Arabic inscriptions hang inside a Chinese building.[7]

The prayer hall faces west towards Mecca, and nothing else needed to change. The community that built it, the Hui, had Chinese as their everyday language and Arabic and Persian for worship, and they put up their house of prayer in the idiom of the city around them. A visitor looking for domes and minarets in the usual sense will not find them. What marks the place as a mosque is the orientation of its hall and the rows of worshippers inside it.

Number 4: The Great Mosque of Djenne

In Mali, the Great Mosque of Djenne is built of sun-dried mud brick, with timber beams projecting from its towers. An earlier mosque on the site had fallen into ruin by the nineteenth century, and the current building dates from 1907. It is often described as the largest mud-brick building in the world.[8]

Mud walls are worn down by the annual rains, so each year the town plasters the mosque afresh in a community festival. Masons direct the work, and the projecting beams double as permanent scaffolding. The material is local, and so is the labour that keeps the building standing. UNESCO lists the Old Towns of Djenne as a World Heritage site, with the mosque at its centre. The building shows that an unadorned, perishable material can carry a place of worship for generations, provided the congregation keeps tending it.

Number 5: The Sultan Ahmed Mosque in Istanbul

The “Blue Mosque”, built between 1609 and 1616 by the architect Sedefkar Mehmed Agha, answers Hagia Sophia across the square. Hagia Sophia had been a Byzantine cathedral until the Ottoman conquest of 1453, and the new mosque borrows its great central dome and surrounds it with a cascade of half-domes. Six minarets rise at its corners, and the blue Iznik tiles inside give it its popular name.[9]

It is the high point of Ottoman style, and it was also a statement of imperial power by a young sultan, Ahmed I. Critics in his own day thought six minarets excessive, since the Sacred Mosque in Mecca had only six at the time, and a story is told that he paid for another to be added there. The design takes a Byzantine form and makes it the centre of a Muslim place of prayer, much as Medina had once taken the plain courtyard.

The bottom line

Islam fixes the essentials of a mosque and leaves the rest open. The ground must be clean, the worshippers must face the Kaaba, and the prayer must be offered to God alone. Inside those limits, the Prophet’s own mosque was built of whatever Medina had to hand, and later Muslims did the same with brick, stone, timber, mud and tile.

The classical warnings against ostentation remain part of the tradition, and each of these buildings can be judged against them. They do not require a single style, and no jurist has ever held that a mosque must look Arab. The five examples show a faith that arrived in new places and found its worship already at home there.

Notes

  1. Sahih al-Bukhari and Sahih Muslim, the saying that the earth was made a place of prayer and purification; see Sahih al-Bukhari, Book of Tayammum. Sahih al-Bukhari 335 (Book of Tayammum), report of Jabir, checked on sunnah.com; Ibn Hajar al-Asqalani, Fath al-Bari (Salafiyya edition), vol. 1, p. 435 (Shamela text).
  2. Ibn Ishaq, Sira, on the building of the mosque at Medina; Sahih al-Bukhari, the accounts of the Prophet’s arrival in Medina.
  3. Sahih al-Bukhari, Book of Prayer, chapter on the building of mosques, which gives the rebuilding by Umar and Uthman and the remark of Ibn Abbas. Sahih al-Bukhari 446 (Book of Prayer, “The construction of the Prophet’s mosque”), report of Abdullah ibn Umar, checked on sunnah.com; Ibn Hajar al-Asqalani, Fath al-Bari (Salafiyya edition), vol. 1, p. 540 (Shamela text).
  4. On Cordoba, see the standard histories of al-Andalus; the dates of the first building and its extensions are in the Arabic chronicles.
  5. Ismail R. al Faruqi and Lois Lamya al Faruqi, The Cultural Atlas of Islam (New York: Macmillan, 1986), p. 416.
  6. Al Faruqi and al Faruqi, The Cultural Atlas of Islam, pp. 417, 436.
  7. The tradition of the 742 foundation is recorded on the mosque’s own stelae; most of the present buildings date from the Ming period.
  8. On Djenne, see the UNESCO World Heritage record for the Old Towns of Djenne.
  9. On the Sultan Ahmed Mosque, see the standard histories of Ottoman architecture.
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