Berkley Center

“There are churches in Qatar?”

In reference to a Muslim country dictated by sharia law, I suppose this is a fair enough question, one that was posed by a fellow study abroad student earlier this semester. Similar to my peer, before arriving in Doha, I thought I was able to accurately characterize the country with an explanation of three main points: the particular religious laws and mores, the process of emerging as a more familiar and recognized Gulf state, and lastly, its rapid development. However, I quickly realized upon arrival that this country was more complex than just a combination of three overarching factors.

First, I attributed a large portion of this country’s identity to its religious laws based on its form of sharia. In America, “sharia” has become a buzz word, oftentimes thrown around by political pundits, and inspiring irrational fear in those individuals without a foundation of knowledge on this or any other subject relating to Islam; there is no question that this concept is one of the most misunderstood in the United States. I was therefore excited and a bit apprehensive about the prospect of living within a country dictated by an interpretation of this Islamic law. During exchange student orientation, the Student Affairs team briefed several of us about laws of which we would need to be aware while studying abroad in Qatar. This included a range of warnings from actions and words that would be deemed disrespectful to those that are considered illegal, such as holding hands with a member of the opposite gender in public. In my experience, this set of laws has not directly affected me, but rather only informed my stay in a fairly minor form. This includes observing the standards of conservative dress norms out of cultural respect, hearing the ringing out of the harmonious call to prayer five times a day in every neighborhood of the city, and having the days of the week oriented around the Muslim holy day, Friday, whereby the working week begins on Sunday and ends on Thursday.

Secondly, I noticed Qatar’s position as a country about which many of my American associates regard as relatively unfamiliar, but the name of which they found to be somewhat recognizable. After several interrogations regarding my upcoming study abroad plans, it became apparent to me that I would have to take the liberty of officially altering the name of the State of Qatar. To all who asked, my automatic reply became “Egypt” followed by “Qatar-which-is-a-small-country-in-the-Middle-East-by-Saudi-Arabia.” Smile. Wait for the flood of follow-up questions. I had realized that my second destination had to be explained in a phrase, because it was rare that people were familiar with anything substantial about it, or in a few cases, even aware of its existence. Also, introducing Qatar with Saudi Arabia caused an onslaught of questions fueled by the usual stereotypes and even concern about the region and its people. Recently, however, I have noticed that on a larger scale, this state is increasingly gaining household recognition due in large part to their involvement in various political, institutional, and even athletic, events and processes.

Lastly, I immediately recognized Qatar’s rapid development. One evening, as I and a few friends drove by the Doha skyline, someone pointed to a single hotel among a number of skyscrapers lit with twinkling, bright lights noting, “When I moved here 16 years ago, that was the only building downtown; now look at the place.” And I did. Doha is a city that is changing daily, filled with that which has been developed and built in the past 15 years, complete with opulence and beautiful, modernist architecture.

Before settling in, these three defining characteristics about Qatar as an official Muslim country ruled by a form of sharia law, a small and somewhat not well-known Gulf state, and simultaneously, a state with a rapidly emerging economy, had formed what I thought was a fairly comprehensive depiction of this state. But the most fascinating part about traveling are the rewards of being actively engaged in the travel, whereby one is in constant pursuit of overturning the obvious and convenient rocks to discover all of the previously overlooked nuances.

This returns me to the beginning question, one that a fellow study abroad student posed: “There are churches in Doha?” One of these previously overlooked aspects for me in my experience here has been learning about the predicaments and opportunities for Christian worship in Doha. This is linked to the composition of the population living in the country, which is comprised of about 80 percent expatriates. This figure implies a greater diversity in, among other factors, socioeconomic class, ethnicity, life experiences, and of particular interest to me, religion.

My first experience attending church in Doha was with my Sri Lankan roommate, who attends an evangelical Christian church close to school. The first significant fact to note is that the day on which church services are held is Friday, partly because, as I previously mentioned, Sunday is the first day of the working week. That Friday morning, we entered a huge villa that could have easily served as a two-floor family-styled home, yet which served as a church in which lawn chairs were in squished, yet neatly aligned rows in the main room, joined by a small pulpit that stood in the front with guitars, microphone stands and a key board, and a projector screen positioned in the corner. The audience was comprised of a variety of ethnicities, including families of European descent and a fairly significant population of South Asian and African descent.

The boundaries of my experience were enlarged even further when, on one of these Fridays, I noticed that the church collection was dedicated to donations that would fund the construction of their new official church in a place called Abu Hamour. This exposed me to a whole new pocket of Christianity in Doha. Abu Hamour is a neighborhood that is on the edge of the city. Within it, there is an area known as the Religious Complex, a place where a myriad of Christian denominations are able to maintain religious buildings associated with their specific sect.

My curiosity led me to the Catholic Church in Abu Hamour the next weekend with two other individuals from my university. The van dropped us off on a street bustling with activity, and the three of us made our way into a large compound and straight into an enormous building. From the outside, it seemed to be of similar architecture and appearance to most other residences in Qatar, for it was tan in color and built in the style of a villa. When I entered, however, I was surprised how much it reminded me of my local childhood church in Connecticut. The tall ceilings, hundreds of pews, stain glass windows, figure of Jesus poised from the ceiling, and of course, the opulent and formal alter, all fulfilled my notion of a Catholic church. By the time the service began, the pews were filled with worshippers.

Afterwards, I separated from my companions to look around the complex some more to explore the other churches. Once I finally found my way out of the Catholic complex to the main road, I ambled around until I found several other compounds to explore. They all differed in size and in internal design, but it was clear that each building was specifically created as a formal place of worship. A fascinating aspect of this arrangement was that among this diversity there was also a place for ethnic and country-specific affiliations. Some of these sects included the Indian Orthodox and Lebanese Orthodox churches.

I spoke about the visit afterwards with my roommate, who imparted further knowledge about the subject. She told me that the Religious Complex in Abu Hamour was a relatively recent development decreed by the emir, and that there are more churches being built there for the communities that are currently operating out of makeshift places of worship, similar to the one to which she currently belongs. The goal is to have every church in Doha established in this area. She also noted that there was a necessary role for a representative to mediate with the government, and expanded on the strange setup of the Catholic Church having one representative, whereas every single other operating church in the country has one particular man as its representative. Among other things, this means that, for example, if any non-Catholic, Christian couple wants to get married, this one man has to conduct the ceremony, for he is the only one able to do so in the eyes of the state.

Through these experiences, I have come to discover another important aspect of living in Qatar, namely the circumstances of Christians. There is an entire official process for allowing them to worship and operate churches within the state. An Al Jazeera article written at the time of the first church opening captured the context of this historic event by noting, “after decades of worshiping in borrowed spaces, Qatar's growing Christian community is celebrating—albeit quietly—the opening of the country's first church since pre-Islamic times.” Clearly, the economic and infrastructural expansion of Qatar has set into motion more developments than just increased international familiarity and an expansive, sparkling skyline.