On the Pulpit of the Umayyad Mosque...

Last Friday (February 14, 2025), the Umayyad Mosque, one of Damascus’ most iconic landmarks, witnessed yet another historic moment. One of Syria’s most esteemed scholars, Sheikh Muhammad Mujir al-Khatib al-Hasani, delivered a sermon in his homeland for the first time in years, addressing the people from the pulpit.

The reason I describe Sheikh Mujir’s Friday sermon as “historic” is deeply tied to the legacy of the Khatib family, whose name has become almost synonymous with the pulpit of the Umayyad Mosque. Now, after years spent in exile, a distinguished member of this lineage has returned to his homeland and resumed his ancestral mission.

Sheikh Mujir’s grandfather, Sheikh Abdulqadir al-Khatib (1874–1932), who also served as the director of religious endowments in Damascus, and his father, Sheikh Muhammad Abu al-Faraj al-Khatib (1919–1986), left a profound mark on the people of Damascus. The Ottoman administration had appointed Sheikh Abdulqadir as a preacher and instructor at the Umayyad Mosque. His son, Sheikh Muhammad Abu al-Faraj, continued this vital role for a remarkable 42 years. Before the Syrian uprising, Sheikh Mujir’s older brothers, Muaz al-Khatib (b. 1960) and Abdulqadir al-Khatib (b. 1966), were among the regular preachers at the mosque. Now, with the passing years, Sheikh Mujir (b. 1971) has matured, attained scholarly excellence, and, like his forebears, has proven himself worthy of the pulpit.

(Years ago, when I was in Damascus studying Arabic and Islamic sciences, I had the privilege of learning from all three Khatib brothers. Back then, Sheikh Mujir was only in his thirties. He had just returned from Medina and was both continuing his academic pursuits and teaching in our study circle at the Kalpakçı Madrasa—an Ottoman-era institution near the end of the Hamidiye Bazaar. Sheikh Abdulqadir was my instructor in Islamic jurisprudence; he was a disciplined and principled scholar, a man of seriousness and depth. But I also remember his sharp wit and humor—our conversations helped me grasp some of the finer nuances of Islamic thought. I still remember him with gratitude. Sheikh Muaz, on the other hand, was always the most politically engaged of the family. Due to his commitments, he attended our lessons less frequently than his brothers. After 2011, the Khatib brothers left Syria. While Mujir and Abdulqadir pursued their scholarly endeavors, Muaz became a leading figure in the opposition movement abroad, heading the primary organization representing the Syrian opposition for a time.)

As I listened to Sheikh Mujir’s sermon at the Umayyad Mosque, I was reminded of how, throughout history, this grand pulpit has reflected the political landscape and the realities of the Bilad al-Sham region. Since the 700s, the sermons delivered here have not only been religious discourses but also testimonies to the political—and even military—history of the Muslim world. If we could compile them in chronological order, we would have a detailed chronicle of Damascus’ past.

This pattern remained unchanged in Syria’s modern history: the pulpit of the Umayyad Mosque became a stage for endless praise of Assad and the Baath Party. Sermons were filled with glorifications of Russia and Putin, often mentioning them by name. Some were openly hostile toward Türkiye, with statements so disgraceful that I hesitate to even write them here. The level of discourse plummeted to such depths that the so-called preachers shamelessly parroted those texts, while the congregants were left embarrassed by what they heard. Thankfully, that disgraceful era has now ended, and those false scholars, preachers, and propagandists have been consigned to the dustbin of history.

One particularly striking aspect of Sheikh Mujir’s sermon was its eloquence, wisdom, and relevance to contemporary issues. This, in turn, created an atmosphere of reverence and deep contemplation among the listeners. As I sat there, I couldn’t help but reflect on the state of the pulpits and Friday sermons in Türkiye and other Muslim-majority countries. I was confronted with the unfortunate reality that we have not fully harnessed the transformative power of true scholars—those who embody both wisdom and spiritual depth. And yet, the potential of the Friday sermon alone is immense; if properly utilized, it could be a powerful instrument for reform.

Perhaps the grand and dignified pulpit of the Umayyad Mosque will now serve as an example for others elsewhere.