Professor Claude Atiyeh holds a PhD in Sociology from the Lebanese University, with a special focus on economic and social development. He has extensive teaching and administrative experience at the Lebanese University, in addition to his active participation in numerous developmental and social projects in northern Lebanon. He also possesses exceptional skills in academic writing and has been involved in international workshops. Besides his professional interests, Professor Atiyeh has a particular passion for literary writing, expressing himself through book authorship and poetry. In an engaging novel, he documents his visit to Iraq during the days of the Arbaeen pilgrimage, offering a unique human and cultural experience.
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DR.Claude Atiyeh
On the path of pilgrims/part I
The journalist Hayat Alrahawi once told me “the road to Karbala is overwhelmed with its memories and thousands of stories and novels, if you want to experience all you have to do is head right towards pole 256 on the road ya Husain (Najaf-Karbala).” I asked myself afterward, as I am a believer in the philosophy of life: How will the meeting be, while sorrow embraces the city like autumn leaves, and scenes of lamentation and wailing spread like an epidemic, like an inherited burden? Why am I here, in an unknown world that I do not recognize, nor does it recognize me? A world in which I belong only through what I have read and what I have heard from the stories of the past, like pain.
I began my journey as waves of questions stormed my mind, like reason descending into deep reflection, like a field awaiting harvest. The feeling of alienation engulfed what remained of my emotions, already shattered by the times of war—like accumulating crises that almost dragged me into a world of solitude, isolation, and detachment from reality. It was that decisive moment when I looked around in confusion before I started packing my travel bags, filled with longing, prepared to bid farewell to my family for several consecutive days. The greatest shock came upon meeting the masses—Arabs and foreigners alike—from different nationalities, all converging into a rare phenomenon transforming into a true popular movement. I had become a passing traveler in a field of echoes—of cries, of upheaval, of the trials imposed by the war upon the weary souls.
The journey continued until we arrived in Baghdad, where we were warmly welcomed at the headquarters of the Karbala Center for Studies and Research. From there, I set off with my companions—Azeris of various nationalities—toward Karbala. This was the beginning of the Arbaeen pilgrimage. I walked the path of connection, despite the exhaustion imposed by travel. I sat in the front seat, feeling as though I were leading a caravan that dissipated into the horizon of vision. As I observed the solemn faces of the visitors on their journey to Karbala, one thing stood out: I saw patience like steadfastness, old men and women, doctors and nurses. I saw Arabs and non-Arabs, black and white, all carrying flags of different colors, yet all expressing the same longing—the same passion—to visit Imam Hussein, peace be upon him, the first scene that truly describes this love, as well as the greatness of these peaceful, content, and faithful souls who endure all the difficulties imposed by the distances. I asked the driver ‘why do you love Hussein? These Hussaini processions are extremely tiring.’ He answered surprised: ‘our love for Hussein is will to live in the face of death and the will for truth and justice.’
Then he turned to me and said, “Why do you ask, aren’t you one of the visitors of Hussein?” Yes, I came to visit Hussein hoping to get to know him closely, for he is truly great in the minds of all the friends of Zayd who told me about him. I came here at the invitation of close friends. As for the details of my visit, they are under the banner of the sacred Al-Atiba Hussaini and the Karbala Center for Studies and Research. The driver was surprised and asked, "Are you a Sunni Muslim?" I replied, "No, I am Christian," and jokingly told him that I am from the Orthodox Shia community in Northern Lebanon. The driver's expression changed, and he began insisting that I come as a guest to his home, with his family and children, using Iraqi words that the Lebanese translated as him hosting me as a Christian being a great honor and a service to Imam Hussein. It was a language of great respect and appreciation from the humble driver, which brought joy to his face, and I knew why.
It seems that souls are meeting here, as the driver's concern reached its peak. He stopped to buy water and food, and soon, water and food were offered by human barriers standing along the road, providing what you needed, thanking you, and shouting, "Welcome to the visitors of Hussein." Their faces never left a smile as they handed you food and water, as if they were from another world—one that doesn't resemble this material world, where money and power rule and destroy social and human relationships. It seems to be the beginning of finding the path to Hussein, as true knowledge begins with spiritual attraction. The meeting of souls indicates attachment and love. I am here, and frankly, I have begun to join the crowds that have sought their Imam, walking with eager hearts and minds, longing to see the inspiration. This longing, for me, wasn't natural or inherited; it has no connection to my social, religious, or national life. But now, as I am experiencing the Arbaeen pilgrimage, I am starting to feel a dialectical connection between the mind and the soul. What the eye sees is the idea, and the many arguments and proofs I’ve begun to experience personally.
At midnight, I arrived at my place of stay in Karbala, where the Arbaeen conference is organized under the auspices of the Holy Hussayniya Shrine. I began participating in the conference activities, including daily meetings, media interviews, and, as a sociological researcher, I committed to presenting daily scientific analytical approaches for each of the field visits.
The conference included a large number of researchers from all around the world, but despite the strict adherence to all the conference's themes, methodologies, and programs, the field visits that I participated in with the Karbala Center for Studies and Researches became the key to entering a world of intertwined events between culture, traditions, rituals, and human encounters. These encounters encapsulated the entire world in a single city. Here, the journey of research and investigation into this phenomenon began. It cannot be explained through writing, narration, or fictional stories. We are faced with a human canvas, where the people of the city inscribe all the noble human moral colors in white. Here, the soul rebels and soars into a space of freedom in scientific and personal interaction with the spirit of Arbaeen. The field observations and participatory notes are not bound by time, program, or images. I find myself lost in a strange and wondrous world I had never seen before.
There were media interviews on the Karbala station and evening cultural meetings that shed light on more knowledge, ideological, intellectual, and religious analyses of the Arbaeen pilgrimage and the personality of Imam Hussein, under the guidance of the officials at the Karbala Center for Studies and Researches, led by Dr. Haj Abdul Amir Al-Quraishi, along with a group of researchers and specialists in the Arbaeen pilgrimage and its details.
We visited universities, social institutions, and organizations affiliated with the holy Hussayniya Shrine, which are considered part of an integrated project for renaissance, development, community building, and presenting an honorable image of this great Hussayniya Karbala city.
As for the most notable meeting for me, it was with the religious custodian of the holy Hussayniya Shrine, Sheikh Abdul-Mahdi Al-Karbala'i, who presented to us a magnificent ethical, human, and religious approach that embodies Imam Hussein's thought in action, not just in words. His words entered the heart, penetrated the mind, and ignited the light in our thoughts, dispelling the darkness from our previous visits. With Sheikh Al-Karbala'i's words, a cultural, intellectual, and spiritual renaissance was awakened in our souls and bodies, which embraced the Karbala earth through the actions of its people—through their generosity, humility, and kindness—just as it embraced the sky with the spirituality of faith, piety, giving, sacrifice, and devotion.
After this meeting, my passion surged, and I descended into the field after the scheduled time for the conference program, eager to engage with the people, interact with them, and gain more knowledge, which I had longed to transform into a small story from my life.
In the middle of the night on the fifth day of the Arbaeen pilgrimage, I left with some friends from the holy Hussayniya Shrine, who turned my visit into a path of light, truth, and beauty. They were the children of Hussein with their morals, love, and complete care for every moment of my presence in the field of my research, scientific, and media exploration of the Arbaeen pilgrimage. They were my support.
I live the details of the pilgrimage with absolute freedom, as if I have joined them in performing those rituals that embraced my emotions without permission.
On the way to the procession, I remembered Sheikh Al-Karbala'i's words, where I saw, not just in words but in reality, that the people here are equal—of different nationalities, ethnicities, and social classes. They spread across the ground of Karbala with absolute freedom, with no cover except the sky, and the mercy of God, the love of the city's people, and their faith in the ideology of Hussein and his struggle.
The journey began along the path between the cities of Najaf and Karbala. We stopped at places where guesthouses were spread out—buildings created by their owners to welcome the visitors, offering them food and lodging for free. However, the most impactful words on my mind and soul were the suggestions from some Iraqis that I leave my accommodation and be their honored guest in their homes. This was the second time I received such an invitation, after the driver who took me from Baghdad airport. It created within me a sense of belonging to this country and its people.
After feeling tired from walking, I sat near the road and watched thousands of people pass by. Someone came and sat next to me, offering me water and asking who I was, where I came from, and how they could help. I answered in my Lebanese accent
The scene in another place is something strange, hard to describe, and is primarily connected to the deep love for Hussein and the attachment to an ideology that is rarely seen in this world.
I return to the same question: Why, my friend, all of this? Eating, drinking, washing heads, massaging feet, welcoming, processions, rituals, prayers, words, and voices chanting tunes of sorrow, love, and madness for Imam Hussein?
One of my friends answers me that Hussein deserves all of this, and he invites me to participate in the mourning gatherings that recall what happened to Hussein. Indeed, I participated and listened, but the strongest feeling was that I believed. I began to respond, as a Christian, to the voices of the lamentations and interact with the visitors, striking my chest and crying.
Thus, over time, every evening after the conference activities, I returned to the path of the procession to continue the journey. I could feel the enthusiasm of the visitors and their interaction. Despite their fatigue from walking for days, you see them at the peak of courage, patience, and determination. This collective ritual they participate in reflects the strength of their existence and strengthens in their souls the belief in the struggle to meet Hussein, the symbolic figure whose memory is not erased by time from the minds of all believers or lovers of freedom.
In another moment of reflection on the path of the procession, you find Sunnis and Christians alongside Shia, raising the cross in the procession. It may seem striking, but in reality, it powerfully reflects, through action and truth, the profound manifestations of Imam Hussein's exceptional personality, his noble status, and his position in the hearts of Muslims (both Sunni and Shia) as well as Christians.
As a Christian (a human being), I found common ground with the Tunisian media personality (and Sunni) Rim Al-Warimi, who hosted me twice on her program on Al-Kafeel Channel. She said to me, "In every visit to Imam Hussein, I discover a new part of his exceptional personality. I feel a great sense of peace here, and there is a spiritual force that draws me to this place. Every year, my love for Imam Hussein grows, and I feel closer to his soul, his approach, and his great thought."
I replied to Ms. Al-Warimi, one of the most prominent media figures who addresses valuable religious topics that bring together the messages of reconciliation and dialogue between religions and sects in the name of love, ethics, and human sacrifice: "In just a few days, through my participation in the procession, I have been inspired by the words and actions of the people, their eyes, their souls, their deeds, their hospitality, generosity, love, humility, and the values of justice, reform, truth, sacrifice, giving, altruism, loyalty, and responsibility that Imam Hussein instilled in them."
And of course, this will encourage me to read the biography of Hussein with passion because I have come to love him through the love his visitors have for him. I have learned that he struggled and was martyred for humanity, justice, and truth—not for a city, a sect, or a doctrine. This raises many questions in my mind as a researcher about the utopian nature of a leader, an inspiring guide, and a mentor.
I return to speaking about the spirit that was connected to the Holy Spirit—about a philosopher, a teacher, and a warrior who refused to let the word be broken, making it the beginning and the end of the triumph of truth over falsehood, and light over darkness.
I have confirmed these thoughts through the tangible realities I witnessed: the processions, the tents, the mourning gatherings, and the hospitality stations. Everything I saw in the rituals proved that the Arbaeen pilgrimage is driven by the magnetic pull of Imam Hussein, first and foremost linked to his heroic story. Here, I bow before this great leader of my nation, whose gathering of millions of people—united by conviction, passion, love, longing, joy, sorrow, and all genuine human emotions, at the same time and in the same place—left me in awe.
For me, this represents the peak of spirituality and the depth of faith. It felt as though I were witnessing a theatrical philosophical symphony blending the soul and body, the earth and the heavens. Here, despite being a secular nationalist, I felt the pleasure of worship, the sweetness of faith, and the purification and refinement of the soul.
At exactly dawn, I return to my place of residence, writing down what I have seen and analyzing and interpreting it after deeply reading several publications about Imam Hussein’s story. As a Christian who believes in the greatness of Christ, who was crucified by the Jews for speaking the truth and saying, “Speak the truth, for the truth will set you free,” and as someone who believes in the thought of Antoun Saadeh, the founder of the Syrian Social Nationalist Party, who was martyred standing, assassinated by the treacherous bullets of both internal and external enemies in an unjust mock trial—I have now come to a new realization after experiencing the Arbaeen pilgrimage.
I now believe that Imam Hussein was killed unjustly and in the most horrific manner. His enemies deliberately distorted his revolutionary goals and accused him, his family, and his companions of being rebels. But what we see today during the Arbaeen pilgrimage is that millions of people march toward his sacred grave, affirming that they stand with Imam Hussein, his values, and his principles. They stand with the oppressed against the oppressor, with the slain against the killer, and with truth against falsehood. This means that Imam Hussein is the true victor in the Battle of Karbala.
I witnessed this great victory in the eyes of both the rich and the poor, the educated and the illiterate, intellectuals and the uninformed, the elderly and the young. All of them were serving and eagerly seeking to offer their service in the name of Hussein. Is there anything greater than such deeds in human life?
This confirmed to me what I had heard and read: that the millions-strong phenomenon of the Arbaeen pilgrimage represents the triumph of the values, principles, and goals for which Imam Hussein was martyred in the Battle of Karbala. It also reaffirms that the material victory that took place…
In Karbala, the Umayyad army's presence was temporary and fleeting, while the victory of values and principles is continuous and steadfast. This is what the events of Karbala and what followed proved: this is the true victory.
In the final days of my visit, after completing the conference activities at the universities we visited, the Hussaini epic for me was embodied in its purest form along the path of the procession. Even up to the moment I reached the grave of Imam Hussein and shared the love and devotion with millions of visitors, this love and devotion to the one who sacrificed for the truth. At the shrine, I etched in my memory a portrait of love, painted with tears and blood, and I felt souls crying out, yearning to meet the spirit of Hussein. That touch I felt from the shrine remains deeply ingrained in me, unshaken by any force, no matter how hard they try. I am content, knowing that I experienced the struggle of reaching for the heavens while walking the earth.
I return to write my memoirs and feel proud that I walked as if on the path of the cross, along the way of the procession. Neither the heat of the sun, nor the bad weather, nor the fear that was instilled in me before I came to Iraq about terrorism, explosions, and security incidents that could happen at any moment, stopped me. I defied all the dangers and difficulties with a will and determination that could not be broken, all for the visit to Imam Hussein and to commemorate the Arbaeen occasion, alongside my brothers at the Hussayniya and Abbasid shrines in the most beautiful way humanity has known.
Here, on the way of the procession, there is a heartbeat in my heart, a feeling that touches every soul that believes in the creed of life. These words I write during the Arbaeen pilgrimage will never die; they touch an unforgettable memory.
I do not grieve now; these are tears of joy from an experience that taught me so much. These tears are worth, to me, a lifetime of loss in ignorance of the culture of the Ahl al-Bayt.
As for the look that penetrates my face from the eyes of the friends who accompanied me during my visit, it is a look that encapsulates so much for me. I have seen nothing but love, respect, and generous hospitality. Here, in the city of Karbala, the soul remains in the presence of Hussein and does not depart, no matter how far the body may travel. And millions of visitors, I will never bid them farewell, no matter how distant the distances between us...
To be continued... one night in Baghdad...