Temporary prayer halls have been set up in various sites across the Gaza Strip, standing as a symbol of the enduring will to live of Gaza’s people, and a sign of the strength of their faith, even as Israel’s relentless atrocities continue unabated.
For the past month, Gazans have embraced the opportunity to gather together and perform the congregational prayers during the holy month of Ramadan, after months of being deprived of this right due to the destruction or damage of the majority of the besieged enclave’s mosques during Israel’s assault.
Gaza’s Ministry of Endowments and Religious Affairs has estimated the costs of damages to Gaza’s religious infrastructure at over $500 million.
Regarding mosques, Israel’s armed forces have either fully or partially destroyed 1,109 mosques, which is 89 percent of the total number of mosques in Gaza (1,244).
Ikrami Al-Modallal, director of the ministry’s media department, said to The New Arab’s Arabic-language sister edition: “In total, 834 mosques were totally destroyed – reduced to rubble – while 275 mosques were damaged and left unusable.”
He added that the known extent of damage is likely to grow as access to the targeted religious facilities increases. Â
Speaking about the revival of religious life, with ‘temporary’ prayer halls set up on land and courtyards adjacent to destroyed mosques, Ikrami acknowledged that these spaces are smaller than the original ones and cannot accommodate the large numbers of worshippers, especially during Friday and Tarawih prayers.
Additionally, these makeshift prayer halls are not watertight, causing rainfall to seep in and soak the ground at times.
Despite these challenges, The New Arab’s Arabic-language sister edition looks at examples of temporary prayer halls in Gaza, highlighting how Gazans continue to worship and uphold their spiritual life amidst devastation.
Great Omari MosqueÂ
One of Gaza’s most iconic religious sites, the Great Omari Mosque, was completely destroyed by Israeli airstrikes in December 2023.
This mosque was not only a significant religious site but also a cultural and historical landmark, standing as the third-largest mosque in Palestine, with a surface area covering over four dunams.
All that remains is the outer façade, parts of the inner courtyard walls, and the surrounding wall of the open courtyard, with some ancient arcades still visible.
Inside, a temporary prayer hall has been set up, with the rubble cleared to make space.
Abu Muhammad Hassan gazes in shock from one of the openings of the makeshift space at the devastation in the mosque’s inner courtyard.
All that remains of the domes that once formed the roof, the ancient capitals that supported them, and the engraved inscriptions detailing successive historic eras – Roman, Byzantine, Mamluk, and Ottoman – is wreckage and rubble scattered across the courtyard.
Only half of the mosque’s famed minaret remains standing, the top blown off by the attack.
Next to the temporary prayer space are crates filled with stones, which archaeological teams are sifting through, sorting, and labelling.
They are also finding surviving sections of inscriptions to piece together in the correct order, in preparation for the restoration process – a daunting task given the extensive damage.
“As soon as I entered the mosque, I was shocked. I didn’t expect to see this extent of damage – or that the mosque wouldn’t have a roof. We cherish the Omari Mosque, because it is an ancient mosque. It’s impossible to imagine all this history being destroyed with such ease,” says Abu Muhammad.
His friend, Abu Al Baraa Qozat, stands next to the remnants of an Israeli rocket, which remains as a testament to the massacre that took place there.
“This scene is heartbreaking,” he says. “Since I was tiny, I remember coming to pray in the mosque with my father. We were raised in this mosque.”
Adib Abdul Halim, a young Gazan attending the communal prayers at the makeshift space, reflects on the significance of the mosque.
“Praying in the Great Omari Mosque was like praying in the Al-Aqsa Mosque for the people of Gaza,” he says.
“We are praying in the outer courtyard, though our hearts are in mourning. People used to come to this mosque from all over Gaza to pray and worship here. Its courtyard provided an atmosphere of tranquillity and ease, and religious prayer sessions were held here,” he adds.Â
Abu Ayyub Al-Ansari Mosque
Tariq Haniyeh, a guide at the Endowments Ministry, sits next to a historic pulpit, which he says is nearly 400 years old.
He reflects on the destruction the mosque has endured, explaining, “The Occupation army bombarded the mosque with several missiles, destroying 85 percent of it. This was a devastating blow. Historically, the mosque was also bombed by British ships on 15 April 1917, which completely destroyed a large section of the prayer hall and the minaret.”
He continues, “Nine years later, it was restored, and the mihrab (a niche in the wall of the mosque) and the pulpit were added. Then the Occupation targeted it during its last war.”
As Ramadan progresses, temporary prayer spaces continue to provide Gazans the opportunity to worship together, and on the tenth day of Ramadan, Ahmad Hindawi performed the Asr (afternoon) prayers for the first time since the war began, alongside other worshippers in the courtyard of the Abu Ayyub Al-Ansari Mosque in western Gaza City.
After most of the worshippers have left, Ahmad remains seated, gazing at the devastation of the once grand three-storey mosque, which now only has the minaret and parts of the dome standing.
He shares, “My home in the Saftawi neighbourhood in northern Gaza City was destroyed, as was the closest mosque, so I came and rented a house here. This was the first time congregational prayers have been held in the mosque – we were prevented from praying together during the war, and were confined to our homes to pray.”
Reflecting on the significance of praying in the mosque, Ahmad says, “There is a huge difference between praying together in the mosque and praying at home. In the mosque, you feel a sense of humility and inner peace, whereas at home, it’s more like obligatory prayer. Mosques provide us with a sense of reassurance after everything we have lived through.”
Al-Rawda Mosque
Further south, in Gaza City, Imam Mohammed Yousef Masry’s neighbourhood, six mosques were destroyed, including the Al-Rawda Mosque.
After the destruction, residents decided to build a makeshift prayer hall to replace the mosque on the first day of Ramadan.Â
They constructed wooden frames covered with tarpaulins, and due to a lack of prayer mats, worshippers either pray on the tarpaulin sheets spread on the ground or bring their own mats.
Imam Mohammed, who previously led prayers at the mosque, says the turnout at the temporary prayer hall has been strong, adding, “People are longing for the mosques.”
“We were shocked by the Occupation’s deliberate targeting of mosques. We are human, and we have the right to practice our religion and gather to pray, which is one of the five pillars of Islam,” he continues.
In saying this, he notes that gathering with others eases people’s pain and provides comfort, “especially as, for a year and a half, people have been thrown from one terror to another, from pain to pain.”
“Performing prayers sends the message that we are rooted in this land,” he adds.Â
Despite the challenges in constructing the space, he emphasises the importance of these gatherings.
“The true essence of the mosque lies in the gathering within it, with its message one of intimacy and fellowship, a coming together of hearts before bodies. This is the true essence of congregational prayer.”
This is an edited translation from our Arabic edition. To read the original article click here.
Translated by Rose Chacko Â
This article is taken from our Arabic sister publication, Al-Araby Al Jadeed and mirrors the source’s original editorial guidelines and reporting policies. Any requests for correction or comment will be forwarded to the original authors and editors
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