Religious representation and performative citizenship: The civic dimensions of Shia lamentation rituals in Barcelona

Abstract

In diasporic contexts, religious representatives play a key role as cultural ambassadors for their respective communities and religions. This article examines religious representation as a form of civic engagement among Shia Muslims who have assumed representational responsibilities in Barcelona. Our study focuses on their interactions with municipal authorities and the wider public amid the planning, organization, and enactment of public lamentation processions. We show how public rituals provide representatives of Barcelona’s main Shia community with a platform for ‘performative citizenship’ practices like claiming rights and demonstrating their deservingness of inclusion in the neighborhood, city, and nation. Yet, different representatives have engaged in distinct styles of representation and performative citizenship. In explaining these differences, we draw attention to how their respective migration trajectories, historical experiences, and sociostructural location have contributed to certain pressures, forms of positional awareness, and practical dispositions that account for their inclinations toward different approaches to civic engagement.

Introduction

In diasporic contexts, religious representatives play a key role as cultural ambassadors for their respective communities and religions. They regularly engage with public authorities regarding religious needs, such as places of worship, burial grounds, religious education, and space for the enactment of public rituals (Burchardt and Michalowski, 2015). They interact with the police, health inspectors, and others responsible for guaranteeing public order, health, and security. They participate in interfaith activities, neighborhood meetings, political protests, and other events that render their communities visible to the wider public (Griera, 2012; Hejazi, 2022). While these engagements often have practical objectives, they are also performative insofar as they provide occasions for religious representatives to shape the image and reputation of those they represent.

For Muslims in Europe and other Western contexts, the performative dimensions of religious representation have taken on greater import in recent decades due to the heightened stigma attached to being a Muslim minority (Becker, 2017; Haddad and Golson, 2007). Muslim leaders and representatives face pressure to find ways of limiting the likelihood that publicly affirming their identity and traditions be interpreted as a sign of failure to integrate (Soysal, 1997). This article examines religious representation as a form of civic engagement among Shia who have assumed representational responsibilities in Barcelona. Our study focuses on their interactions with municipal authorities and the wider public amid the planning, organization, and enactment of public lamentation processions. We show how public rituals provide representatives of Barcelona’s main Shia community with a platform for ‘performative citizenship’ practices like claiming rights and demonstrating their deservingness of inclusion in the neighborhood, city, and nation. Yet, different representatives have adopted distinct styles of representation. In explaining these differences, we draw attention to how their respective migration trajectories, historical experiences, and sociostructural location have contributed to certain pressures, forms of positional awareness, and practical dispositions that account for their inclinations toward different approaches to civic engagement.

Religious representation and performative citizenship

Existing literature suggests that the rhetoric and actions of Muslim representatives can be influential in mitigating (or exacerbating) social stigma and exclusion in Western contexts. The presence of native-born, middle-class, and educated representatives adept at interpreting subtle cultural cues and communicating in ways that put public authorities and local residents at ease may help reduce hostility toward initiatives like the construction of mosques (Cesari, 2005). Becker (2017) shows how the success of Muslim leaders in Germany in projecting a positive image of their communities is contingent upon their proactive and effective performance of civic ideals such as transparency, loyalty, and participation.

Muslim leaders and representatives perform civic belonging and integration via diverse activities, including – but by no means limited to – the provision of charitable services, participation in interfaith gatherings, involvement in outreach initiatives, cooperation with public institutions, and collaboration with NGOs or other elements of civil society (Cantori, 2021; Degli Esposti, 2021). Religious parades or processions also serve as important sites for becoming visible, engaging with the wider public, and claiming a place in the nation or polity (Zubrzycki, 2016). Turner’s (1988) classic work on public ritual acts draws attention to their potential to produce new subjectivities and to alter social relations, rather than merely reflecting or reproducing pre-existing structures. In diasporic contexts, public rituals involve performative acts of place-making that reterritorialize religious traditions beyond the homeland (Dilger et al., 2020; Garbin, 2013). These temporary appropriations of public space contribute to recognition and feelings of collective empowerment (Garbin, 2012; Saint-Blancat and Cancellieri, 2014; Werbner, 1996). Along these lines, Hatziprokopiou and Evergeti (2014: 622) contend that public ritual acts ‘may be seen as organic attempts for incorporation, entailing active claims for rights and citizenship in the polis’. Such acts are thus a strategic site for studying the interface between religious piety and tradition, on the one hand, and civic and political aspirations, on the other (Burchardt and Westendorp, 2018).

Viewed from this perspective, public ritual acts may be usefully conceptualized as sites of ‘performative citizenship’ (Isin, 2017; Zivi, 2011). As with the closely related, but more expansive, concept of ‘active citizenship’ (Isin and Nielsen, 2008), performative citizenship is a concept that grows out of theoretical perspectives that stress what civic actions do, rather than what they express or reflect, and that conceive of citizenship as a dynamic practice rather than a status or condition (Morgan and Baert, 2018). Isin (2017: 506) defines performative citizenship as ‘both a struggle (making rights claims) and what that struggle performatively brings into being (the right to claim rights)’. By foregrounding performative claims-making, the literature on performative citizenship ‘helps elucidate how status, rights, participation and identity can at times be interwoven and reinforcing’ (Bloemraad, 2018: 4). It also makes it possible to conceive of how citizenship may be performed by noncitizens (Isin, 2017).

In focusing narrowly on assertive forms of claims-making, however, scholars have tended to overlook alternative manners of becoming visible in public space that individuals and groups used to express or affirm civic membership. Demonstrating civic belonging by performatively complying with civic obligations or expressing respect for civic ideals, for instance, may be usefully conceptualized as forms of performative citizenship even if they do not entail specific rights claims (Morgan and Baert, 2018). Broadening the forms of civic engagement encompassed by the concept of performative citizenship may have potential drawbacks, most notably a reduction of analytic precision. It is, however, possible to preserve the concept’s specificity and precision by differentiating its distinct modalities. We distinguish two modalities of performative citizenship – ‘assertive’ and ‘conciliatory’– which we argue are critical for comprehending different ‘styles’ of civic engagement. Our use of the term ‘style’ draws from the notion of ‘group style’ coined by Eliasoph and Lichterman (2003: 737) in reference to ‘recurrent patterns of interaction that arise from a group’s shared assumptions about what constitutes good or adequate participation in the group setting’.

Styles of civic engagement grow out of complex interrelations between historical, sociostructural, and interactional patterns and dynamics. They often reflect multiple and intersecting forms of identification, as well as varied and at times conflicting social norms, cultural repertoires, and contextual opportunities and constraints. Although group styles may emerge organically and yield forms of coordinated action that flow ‘naturally’ from shared visions, values, and dispositions, they may also be a source of dissension among group members with contrasting viewpoints. In groups that are organized hierarchically, certain individuals who act as ‘style leaders’ typically play an important role in shaping how such dissension is negotiated (Lichterman, 2012: 21).

Whereas assertive styles of civic engagement involve demanding rights or privileges in a forceful and potentially confrontational manner, conciliatory styles entail exhibiting the moral qualities associated with civility, or adherence to the ‘cultural codes, integrative patterns, and institutional procedures that characterize a community based on universalistic solidarity’(Alexander, 2006; McCormick, 2015: 5). The moral traits associated with civility may vary temporally and geographically, but they typically include qualities such as compliance with the law, respect for local norms, nonviolence, and openness to dialog and compromise.

Our use of the term ‘conciliatory’ does not denote an attitude of submissiveness, obedience, or docility, but rather a general orientation toward compromise and the minimization of confrontation and conflict. Although conciliatory styles of civic engagement are typically less conspicuous than assertive styles, they may be equally significant and agentic. For example, given the plethora of representations of Muslim minorities as irrational, uncivil, and threatening, their adoption of highly assertive styles of civic engagement may reinforce rather than challenge negative stereotypes. By the same token, conciliatory styles of civic engagement may subtly work to subvert such stereotypes. If we conceive of agency as linked to the ability to effect change, conciliatory styles of civic engagement may, under certain circumstances, be more agentic than assertive styles.

Assertive and conciliatory styles of civic engagement should be understood as ideal types, insofar as they accentuate certain aspects of civic engagement for analytic purposes but do not necessarily capture the full range of meanings that concrete empirical instances of engagement entail (Weber, 1949). In some instances, assertive and conciliatory styles may be empirically entwined. For example, social activists and movements often make use of protest forms and tactics (e.g., nonviolence) that have both assertive and conciliatory dimensions (Tarrow, 2011).

In explaining the inclination of Shia representatives in Barcelona toward different styles of civic engagement, we emphasize their respective migration trajectories, historical experiences, and sociostructural locations. Our argument is not that these factors entirely determine their styles of civic engagement, but rather that they contribute to certain pressures and practical dispositions that guide their approaches to interacting with municipal authorities and the wider public, making certain styles more likely than others. We highlight, moreover, how representatives’ propensity toward different styles is not necessarily uniform within the community and may vary by issue, situation, and intended audience.

Site selection, data, and methods

Barcelona and its surrounding metropolitan area are home to Spain’s largest Shia communities. These communities are composed mainly of first-generation immigrants from Pakistan and their offspring. ¹ Our study focuses on religious representatives affiliated with al-Qaim, Barcelona’s principal imambargah (Shia ritual sanctuary), and their civic engagements amid the planning, organization, and enactment of public lamentation processions.

The spectacle and scale of South Asian public ritual acts make them a revealing site for studying the interface between religion and citizenship in the diaspora. ² The significance South Asians place on such acts is the result of a long history of competition between and among Hindus, Muslims, Sikhs, and other religious groups (Pinault, 1992). Religious performances historically provided a key medium for demonstrating strength to rival communities or faiths, and for attracting new followers (Cole, 2002). They also served as platforms for the display of status and the acquisition of prestige. Taking religion ‘out into the street’ remains a crucial element of diasporic South Asian religiosities due to the power of tradition, ongoing dynamics of competition, and the desire for visibility and recognition, both locally and globally (Jacobsen, 2008; Schmidt, 2012). Public rituals, however, are not merely reproduced unchanged in the diaspora, but rather are creatively adapted, reconfigured, and resignified in diverse ways depending on the particular contexts where they are reterritorialized (Degli Esposti, 2021; Mirshahvalad, 2019; Tsagarousianou, 2019).

The largest and most visible Shia processions typically take place on the day of Ashura (the 10th day of Muharram), which commemorates the death of Hussain, the grandson of Mohammad, at the Battle of Karbala in 680 CE. Participants customarily dress in black and carry flags and banners with religious inscriptions, as well as other symbolic artifacts. In many of these processions, participants engage in practices of self-flagellation called matam to the rhythm of collective chanting. There are different types of matam, including sineh-zani (beating of the chest with one’s fist), zanjir-zani (flagellation with sharp instruments), and qama-zani (cutting off the head with a blade). ³ Several influential clerics have condemned zanjir and qama for violating the prohibition against self-inflicted injury. However, there is no consensus among high Shia authorities (Maraji) as to the permissibility of blood flagellation, leaving space for individual and communal choice (Flaskerud, 2016).

Criticisms of ‘blood matam’ have contributed to what Deeb (2006: 154) has termed ‘authenticated forms of Ashura and public piety’ that eschew religious rituals perceived as ‘backward’. Many Shia communities in the diaspora now organize blood drives in remembrance of the blood spilled by religious martyrs as an alternative to matam. Religious leaders play an important role in deciding how communities adapt practices of ritual mourning in accordance with the exigencies of local context.

Our data on religious representation and public lamentation processions in Barcelona derive from a combination of semistructured interviews, ethnographic observations, and media reports. While we had numerous informal conversations with members of al-Qaim, we conducted more formal interviews with al-Qaim’s president, two of its principal representatives, and two ‘key informants’ with special knowledge of the community’s history, organization, and internal dynamics. We also interviewed four municipal officials and civil servants involved in the coordination and regulation of Shia processions. Some individuals were interviewed multiple times to attain their views on new or ongoing developments during the course of our research. We have used pseudonyms to protect their anonymity.

In conducting interviews, we were cognizant of the sensitivity of the issues addressed and the desire among interviewees to project a positive image of their respective communities or agencies. We thus understood performativity as part of the interview process, particularly during the initial phases of our research when trust and rapport had yet to be cultivated. For example, several of the Shia representatives whom we interviewed were initially reticent to share information about their disagreements or disputes with municipal authorities or other local actors. Given our knowledge of several such occurrences from media reports or other interviews, we interpreted this reticence as part of their effort to emphasize their positive conviviality with the broader society. We used methods of triangulation to develop the most factually accurate accounts possible of each situation analyzed (Denzin, 1989).

Apart from interviews, we undertook a series of detailed ethnographic observations of lamentation processions between 2015 and 2022. These included four Ashura processions and three processions commemorating the martyrdom of Imam Ali. Each event was observed by at least two team members so as to include different vantage points, both physical and cognitive. During our observations, we had many informal conversations with religious representatives, ordinary participants, casual observers, and municipal actors in attendance about their respective viewpoints regarding different aspects of the processions. Members of the research team also attended al-Qaim during the evenings preceding Ashura to observe Muharram commemoration rituals (majalis). We occasionally attended the imambargah on ordinary evenings as well to develop contacts, build rapport, and learn about the biographies and perspectives of community members.

Finally, we reviewed media reports on Shia processions in Barcelona since they were first organized in 2005. Our review focused on articles published in the national and local dailies, including El País, La Vanguardia, El Periódico, and El Punt/Avui. These articles provided us with information on the routes of the processions, the number of attendees, and points of controversy. Some included information about public orations given by representatives of al-Qaim at the conclusion of the processions. Editorials gave us insight into how the processions have been portrayed by social commentators. Given our awareness of potential media bias, we were careful to interpret media portrayals of Shia processions critically.

Contrasting styles of representation and civic engagement

Al-Qaim was founded in Barcelona’s Santa Caterina neighborhood, which is part of the city’s Old Quarter, in 1999 by a Pakistani from Gujrat (Punjab) whom we will call ‘Hasan’. Hasan had moved to Barcelona during the 1980s in search of economic opportunity. He was of working-class background and came from a traditional Twelver Shia family. His son, ‘Haider’, who had moved to Barcelona as a child and was in his thirties when we met him, told us that Hasan taught him to practice matam when he was five and zanjir while he was still a youth. Like Hasan, most of al-Qaim’s members are from Pakistan’s Punjab region. The majority migrated to Spain in pursuit of economic opportunities, family reunification, or the acquisition of permits that would enable them to live and work elsewhere in Europe.

Prior to 2005, Shia in Barcelona performed Ashura rituals in private apartments, terraces, or the community’s imambargah. Since 2005, the community has organized public processions on the day of Ashura, and more recently, during Ramadan to commemorate the martyrdom of Imam Ali (Moreras et al., 2017). For the first several years in which processions were organized, discussions with district authorities were led by two individuals with contrasting styles of representation. As founder and president of al-Qaim, Hasan was the chief interlocutor before he fell ill and eventually passed away in 2014. By all accounts, Hasan was mild-mannered, deferential, and oriented toward compromise in his interactions with municipal authorities. The other representative was ‘Amir’, a Catalan lawyer and convert to Islam who had established ties with Hasan and other members of al-Qaim through his work offering counsel to immigrants regarding legal documentation. Amir was more assertive and uncompromising in demanding religious accommodation from the district.

Amir’s collaboration with al-Qaim began in 2005. His experience as a lawyer, fluency in Catalan and Spanish, and familiarity with local norms and bureaucratic procedures made him an asset to the community. He helped facilitate initial endeavors to organize public lamentation processions by identifying the proper bureaucratic channels for obtaining permits, arranging meetings with municipal authorities, and participating in ensuing discussions. Amir’s approach epitomized what we have called an ‘assertive’ style of civic engagement. In his view, organizing the processions was, foremost, a question of rights. He told us that when Hasan first asked him whether he thought it would be possible to get permission for a procession, he replied that it was their absolute right. If the city were to impose obstacles, he would take the matter to court. His approach to negotiation with municipal authorities was one of the assertive claims-making and confrontation.

Reflecting on the first time, he solicited a permit, Amir spoke of how a civil servant called him and voiced some logistical concerns. Reenacting his response, he stated, ‘Ah, but what about the Constitution? The Organic Law [on Religious Liberty]? Are you going to refuse [the permit]? Yes or no?’ ⁴ What interests us here are not Amir’s exact words, but rather his general style of engagement. From his perspective, organizing the Ashura procession was a basic right grounded in laws protecting religious freedom, and he let it be known that he was prepared for a legal battle if this right was not respected.

A former director of Barcelona’s Office of Religious Affairs (OAR) who was involved in several of the early discussions regarding the organization of Ashura processions described Amir as follows ⁵ :

He had a discourse that was, let us say, very anarchist: ‘[State] institutions are repressive, and you are violating our religious freedom because we should be able to do this (…)’ It was (…) like a discourse against [state] institutions and against the administration like, ‘Everything the administration does is wrong (…)’ I remember once someone even came from an adjacent office to say, ‘What’s going on? (…) Should I notify the police?’ Because he was shouting. At any rate, we would eventually get things accomplished, so I don’t know if it was more a question of posturing than of conviction. But it was a posture very much against the administration in general. ⁶

The former OAR director and district authorities whom we interviewed perceived Amir as confrontational and highly critical of municipal agencies. Amir’s stance toward municipal authorities was evident in how he carried himself during an Ashura procession we observed in 2015. He attended wearing a military uniform resembling those worn by soldiers fighting for the Republican side during the Spanish Civil War (1936–1939). As is typical of public religious events, the procession was attended by several civil servants. At one point, Amir made a snide remark and muttered an insult about municipal employees which they may or may not have heard. Although his comments were perhaps in jest, they reflected his lack of concern about being in good graces with civil servants and his comfort in uttering words that might be interpreted as combative.

Amir viewed being assertive and forceful in his engagements with municipal authorities as necessary due to their intransigence, as well as the inability of Pakistani Shia to stand up for themselves and defend their rights:

Being Spanish, you know a little about how things work. The truth is that the vast majority [of Shia] (…) feel like foreigners. When there’s a problem, they don’t know how things work and tend to either fall short or miss something. So, with me the advantage is that they can say, ‘Hey (…) go there [to speak] with the civil servant, and someone from the [imambargah’s] board will accompany you for support’. But if there’s a dispute when we arrive, it is between the civil servant and me, and the other [representative] remains on the side in silence. Because I know I can say to an official, ‘Hey, the Constitution says (…)’And if Hasan were to say it, [the official] would give him a look as if to say, ‘You piece of shit moro, ⁷ what are you talking about?’ ⁸

Amir’s antipathy toward municipal authorities and combative approach to negotiation are intelligible if we consider his sociostructural location, as well as the interpretive frames, repertoires of engagement, and dispositions he acquired through his previous experiences and activist involvement. As a Catalan native, Amir did not see himself as a ‘guest’ in a foreign land who was obliged to abide by codes of conduct surrounding guesthood. He grew up while Spain was still under Franco’s rule (1939–1975) and witnessed serious instances of police brutality and other forms of state repression during his formative years. Amir’s indignation led him to become an active member of the clandestine Unified Socialist Party of Catalonia (PSUC), and he also worked for the Workers’ Commission (CCOO), a communist labor union. The main reason Amir gravitated toward Shia Islam was that he saw Shia as the ‘Reds’ of Islam and defenders of the oppressed. ⁹ The frame of ‘oppressed’ versus ‘oppressor’ figured centrally in his view of relations between municipal authorities and the local Shia community, and in his corresponding style of representation.

Describing the different styles of Amir and Hasan, the OAR’s former director stated, ‘Amir was very against anything the city government had to say. Hasan, by contrast, was much more flexible and less argumentative’. ¹⁰ Amir’s assertive style often put Hasan in an awkward position, as Hasan would feel compelled to temper Amir’s manner (in Goffman’s (1959) sense of the term) for the purposes of maintaining a positive rapport with municipal authorities.

Conciliatory civic engagement and performative integration

Although Amir’s assertive style of engagement colored several of the initial interactions between al-Qaim and municipal authorities, the tone of the community representatives’ public rhetoric has always been conciliatory. The conclusion of lamentation processions has provided a regular occasion for representatives to speak to a wider, non-Shia audience of municipal authorities and ordinary residents. At the conclusion of the first Ashura procession in 2005, Hasan publicly expressed his gratitude for the city’s accommodation despite its refusal of the initial route he proposed due to its potential to disrupt local transit. Directing his words toward municipal officials and delegates of the central government in attendance, he stated:

Thanks for allowing us to celebrate this ceremony out in the street for the first time. Thanks also to the residents for the bother we may have caused. We are Muslims who form part of the Catalan and Spanish people, and we wish to contribute to the advancement of this society (Ciércoles, 2005: 34).

Hasan’s reference to identifying with Catalonia and Spain, and contributing to their social advancement, drew upon cultural tropes surrounding immigration and integration that were – and still are – highly salient at the local, regional, and national levels. The procession served as a stage for Hasan to attain a measure of visibility and to perform the integrationist spirit of al-Qaim by speaking in a manner that reflected his awareness of context-specific cultural frames regarding what is expected of ‘good minorities’.

Comparable speeches have been made by other representatives of al-Qaim as well. In 2022, for example, ‘Shabbir’, an individual who assumed much of the responsibility for representing al-Qaim when Hasan fell ill, made the following remarks in Spanish at the conclusion of the Imam Ali procession:

Today we give thanks to Barcelona’s City Council (…) and to all the residents who live in this plaza and to all the people who have accompanied us during our route [through the neighborhood]. We belong to the barrio. We are very peaceful. This country is our country. We love Spain very much. We love Catalonia very much. We belong here, and we belong to the barrio. ¹¹

Shabbir was from Pakistan’s Kashmir region. When we first met him, he was 45 years of age and working at a philanthropical association that facilitates the orientation and integration of Muslim immigrants. The association’s mission was core to his outlook and general approach to civic engagement. From his perspective, immigrants like himself had a strong obligation to demonstrate their willingness to integrate into the broader society and to adapt to local customs and norms. This is important for comprehending his generally flexible and conciliatory approach to dialoguing with municipal authorities.

The conciliatory style of Hasan, Shabbir, and other representatives of al-Qaim is evident in how they have responded to the demands imposed by municipal authorities regarding different aspects of the lamentation processions. On several occasions, district authorities have demanded that the processions follow alternative, and oftentimes less desirable, routes. In 2007, complaints from local shopkeepers led the district to request that the procession be rerouted to a quieter, narrower, and less visible street so as not to interfere with commercial activities. Despite their preference for the original route, Hasan and other members of al-Qaim’s board abided by the request without major objection as a measure of good faith to the district and neighborhood. ¹²

Over the course of our fieldwork, Shia processions were canceled or rerouted multiple times (Albert Blanco and Martínez Cuadros, 2021). Beginning in 2007, the Ashura procession would typically end at the Arc de Triomf, an iconic arch located at the outer limit of Barcelona’s Old Quarter that was originally built as the main entrance to the 1888 Universal Exposition. In 2017, Ashura fell on the same date as the Catalan ‘referendum’ on independence from Spain. After pondering security concerns and the potential conflict that marching on such a momentous day might engender with municipal authorities and the broader public, community leaders decided to cancel the procession even though they were generally not supportive of independence from Spain. ¹³ Lamentation rituals were organized instead in an enclosed gymnasium, which was upsetting to many in the community due to the great importance they place on marching in public.

The following year, the procession commemorating the martyrdom of Imam Ali was rerouted due to a conflict with evening noise ordinances. Several months later, the Ashura procession was again rerouted because it coincided with Barcelona’s local patron saint festival (La Mercè), which entailed activities around the Arc de Triomf. According to Shabbir, informing members of the new route, which ended instead at another plaza further away proved extremely challenging, and several went to the wrong location. Moreover, the Arc de Triomf had become part of the community’s local tradition, and many took pride in performing their rituals at such an emblematic site. After a hiatus due to the pandemic, an Imam Ali procession organized in 2022 was scheduled a day early and limited to a narrow circuit through the Santa Caterina neighborhood because it conflicted with local Saint George festival activities.

Representatives of al-Qaim could have protested the myriad modifications imposed by the district, demanded greater continuity in the routes from year to year, and insisted their preferences be respected. If Amir still had significant sway as an interlocutor, they very well might have, but he relinquished his representational responsibilities upon becoming more involved with a community in the neighboring city of Badalona. Shabbir told us that he felt the space around the Arc de Triomf was large enough to accommodate multiple gatherings simultaneously, and that he was bothered by the district’s lack of flexibility. Nevertheless, while he and other representatives grumbled privately and in confidence, they complied with the district’s directives without voicing the full extent of their frustration, highlighting their inclination toward a conciliatory style of representation that demonstrates their civility and orientation toward compromise.

The generally conciliatory approach of al-Qaim’s representatives is equally evident in their responses to other restrictions put in place by the district. From 2007 until 2022, adults were required to wear shirts to cover the redness of their chests resulting from matam. This requirement was somewhat unique, as Shia elsewhere in Europe are not typically obliged to cover their chests when practicing matam in public. Municipal authorities informed us that Hasan’s son, Haider, occasionally showed them videos of public lamentation rituals in Athens, where limitations on attire and different forms of self-flagellation are more relaxed, to convince them to ease restrictions. Haider said that he and many others in the community would practice zanjir publicly if permitted. ¹⁴ Although he expressed his opinion openly during meetings, he did not press the issue when district authorities made it clear that it was not up for negotiation.

Apart from imposing requirements regarding attire, the city has intervened in how the community narrates mourning rituals for the broader public. When we first began our observations, al-Qaim would distribute leaflets prepared in Spanish that explained the story and message of Karbala. Personnel from the OAR suggested collaborating with the community to create a new leaflet. While the older leaflets used language and imagery that were poetic, spiritual, and emotional, the new leaflet was more encyclopedic and neutral in its descriptions. It also lacked references to contemporary political issues, whereas the previous leaflet condemned al-Qaeda, ISIS, and Boko Haram. The new leaflet thus eliminated elements perceived as excessively pious or political. An OAR staff member described the changes as a ‘cleaning’ of the text that involved the removal of phrases that were too ‘religiously devout’ to make it more palatable for the local audience. ¹⁵

As in other instances, representatives of al-Qaim who collaborated with the OAR on the leaflet accepted the proposed revisions without any major qualms, either because they trusted in the OAR personnel’s judgment or because they wanted to demonstrate their openness to dialogue and adaptation. Regardless, the tone and nature of their cooperation were in keeping with the conciliatory style of representation that has characterized most of their interactions with municipal authorities surrounding the organization of public ritual processions.

This conciliatory style is equally evident in the emphasis al-Qaim’s representatives place on being cognizant of the broader public and complying with local regulations when interacting with the general membership. Shabbir and others tasked with ensuring the processions were orderly and non-obtrusive were extremely scrupulous about keeping participants from straying from the designated route and preventing children from getting too close to the nucleus of matamis. During one of the evenings majalis preceding the 2018 Ashura procession, Shabbir gave an impassioned speech in the imambargah about the importance of following Hussain’s example by being orderly and respectful toward local residents. He emphasized how Ashura is not an occasion to merely engage in ritual and return home, but also to reach out to those around you and spread Hussain’s message of peace and beneficence. ¹⁶ His remarks highlight how styles of religious leadership and civic engagement may fuse civic and religious perspectives and meanings.

The performance of piety

While al-Qaim’s religious representatives have generally been conciliatory in their engagements with municipal authorities regarding the planning and organization of public ritual acts, the acts themselves entail religiously fervent displays, most notably matam, that can be disquieting for casual observers who lack knowledge of Shia tradition. The style of matam practiced by members of al-Qaim is typical of Punjab and involves vigorous striking of the chest. While observing the lamentation processions, we saw several onlookers shaking their heads in disapproval and overheard some muttering derogatory comments. We were once approached by a man who asked us whether those participating were from ISIS. In 2006, an influential writer and former parliamentarian, Pilar Rahola, published an editorial titled ‘Connected to the Middle Ages’ in El País, Spain’s most widely read newspaper. ¹⁷ Rahola (2006 : 3) characterized the procession as ‘fanatic’ and ‘fundamentalist’, and chastised the media and the Left for apologizing for forms of religious extremism that had led to the Madrid train bombings and other instances of Muslim aggression. Her remarks highlight the risk that engaging in certain ritual practices publicly may reinforce stereotypes of Islam as fanatical and threatening. Such representations are precisely what al-Qaim’s representatives have sought to counter by being conciliatory in their engagements with public authorities and encouraging members to be respectful of bystanders.

Yet, local non-Shia residents are just one audience, and their gaze is less important to many procession participants than that of coreligionists in Barcelona and beyond. Many participants recorded their experiences with digital devices, which they then projected to distant audiences by posting on their personal social media pages or on al-Qaim’s Facebook page or YouTube channel. Many Shia in Barcelona remain enmeshed in dense, transnational ethnic and religious networks. Showing their family and friends around the world, as well as the broader Shia ummah, that Barcelona has a strong and vibrant Shia community is a major source of pride.

The fact that public rituals are performed for (distant) Shia audiences in addition to (proximate) non-Shia audiences yields a degree of tension between contrasting logics of religious and civic performativity. Specifically, pressure to amplify religious fervency to impress other Shia clashes with pressure to adapt or ‘edit’ religious rituals in accordance with local norms, regulations, and sensibilities. The resultant tension was apparent in the comportment of representatives like Shabbir. During public processions, Shabbir would occasionally pause, chant, and lightly tap his chest, but he did not partake in forceful displays of matam. This was not necessarily because doing so ran counter to his personal style of ritual practice. Indeed, we witnessed Shabbir engaging in vigorous displays of matam while participating in rituals held within the imambargah. In public, however, such religiously fervent displays conflicted with the conciliatory style he and some of the other organizers perceived as crucial to their role as interlocutors and purveyors of order.

Although members of al-Qaim are cognizant of how practicing matam publicly might elicit feelings of unease among locals, to our knowledge there have been no internal discussions about potential alternatives (e.g., a blood drive). Breaking with the ritual in such a way would violate the dispositions emanating from the traditional ‘religious habitus’ of many community members (Mellor and Shilling, 2014). By contrast, in diasporic contexts where South Asian Shia have a longer historical presence or are more socioeconomically heterogeneous, decisions regarding whether or how to practice matam have elicited greater internal dissension. In London, such dissension has led to legal battles and the splintering of communities (Dogra, 2017). Similar dissension may be found in Toronto, where active and vocal matamis have clashed with local clerics and others opposed practising matam publicly out of concern for the impression it might produce among the wider public (Astor et al., 2018).

Another point of contrast between al-Qaim and diasporic Shia communities with greater longevity and socioeconomic heterogeneity relates to the use of public processions as a platform for civic activism. Scholars have noted how religious minorities often become more assertive in claiming rights as they become more socially integrated (Burchardt, 2020). Elsewhere in Europe, it is not uncommon for Shia processions to include signs with messages in the local vernacular regarding social justice, discrimination, or human rights (Degli Esposti, 2018; Spellman-Poots, 2012). Al-Qaim, by contrast, has yet to incorporate such elements in its public processions. The community’s assertive civic engagements remain oriented to foreign audiences and limited to transnational issues. For example, the community organized events protesting a terrorist attack targeting Shia in Quetta (Pakistan) in 2013 and the assassination of the Iranian general, Qasem Soleimani, in 2020. Their statements were made in Urdu and broadcast by Pakistani media outlets. Apart from a display of solidarity with other Muslim communities in condemning the 2017 terrorist attacks in Barcelona, al-Qaim’s leadership has yet to engage actively and assertively in addressing local social justice issues. This is in keeping with the conciliatory style characteristic of al-Qaim’s local civic engagements.

Conclusion

The findings advanced over the course of this article illustrate the utility of conceptualizing religious representation as a form of performative citizenship practice that involves not only assertive demands for recognition and rights, but also conciliatory forms of civic engagement aimed at demonstrating civility and worthiness of civic belonging. Religious leaders and representatives involved in arranging religious events in public space, especially in secularizing contexts, are typically aware of the potential for such events to heighten stigma since they involve visible manifestations of religious fervor that are prone to being (mis)interpreted as signs of cultural alterity and backwardness. Obtaining permits to stage religious events, moreover, is oftentimes contingent upon establishing positive relationships with public authorities and the wider community of residents. It is therefore common for representatives to act strategically to allay potential concerns by stressing their compliance with municipal norms and regulations, and by adapting religious rituals so that they are more intelligible and palatable to local sensibilities (Martínez-Ariño and Griera, 2020).

In explaining the predominance of conciliatory styles of civic engagement among representatives of al-Qaim, we have emphasized their migration trajectory and socio-structural location. Specifically, they are predominantly first-generation migrants of working-class status who feel pressure to demonstrate their willingness to integrate and live harmoniously with the general populace, and to act in accordance with codes associated with guesthood. The exception was Amir, whose more assertive style of representation and civic engagement was connected to his unique cultural background, ethnicity, and social status as a Catalan convert to Islam with experience as a political activist during the dictatorship. To reiterate, our argument is not that sociostructural location or ascriptive characteristics are entirely determinative of the styles of civic engagement adopted by diverse actors, but rather that they contribute to certain social pressures, forms of positional awareness, and practical dispositions that make some styles ‘feel’ more appropriate than others.

Styles of representation and civic engagement should not be understood as static and unchanging. We expect, for instance, that assertive styles will gain more prominence among Shia representatives in Barcelona with the emergence of larger and more vocal future generations that are more diverse in socioeconomic composition, secure in their sense of belonging, and active in local politics. The specific way public rituals will evolve, however, will ultimately depend on the dynamic interplay between the preferences, inclinations, and dispositions of group members, on the one hand, and contextual conditions, policies, and pressures emanating from the local and transnational contexts in which they perform, on the other (Burchardt and del Mar Griera, 2020).