2. Sheikh Zayed Grand Mosque—Palace of God


This is part two of the series Four Cautionary Tales for Abu Dhabi. Click Here, to read more about the series and access the other parts.


From day one, the board of directors managing the Sheikh Zayed Grand Mosque knew that their main challenge was to mediate between the building’s two functions: a prayer hall and a tourist attraction. This was a tricky problem because so much money and energy had gone into making the building as architecturally attractive as possible to bring in selfie-hungry ‘pilgrims,’ and yet, it was still a mosque and needed to function as one. In fact—and this is the brilliant realization of a board member that started this whole story—without properly functioning as a mosque full of devout Muslim worshipers, the building would seem like a shallow vanity project, therefore becoming much less effective at bringing in tourists in the first place. The balance was delicate, but achieving it was absolutely necessary.

Only after understanding this dilemma could the board’s two controversial decisions be comprehended. Those decisions would of course later lead to the stripping of all board members of their positions due to public outrage reaching dangerous levels. But we shouldn’t get ahead of ourselves. Let’s start with the first of the two controversial decisions: implementing an entrance fee.

The board’s reasoning was simple. There were too many visitors, whether tourists or worshipers, and the existing facilities could not handle their numbers. Before the entrance fee was implemented, long lines were a common sight outside the mosque’s main gates, and it often took visitors more than an hour to make their way past the security point. Although tourists did not mind the wait, worshipers did. It is common knowledge that the five daily prayers of Islam are supposed to be performed at specific times. Having to wait an hour outside the gates meant that worshipers often missed the collective prayers, making their trip to the mosque meaningless.

Once the entrance fee was implemented, the number of visitors did go down to reasonable levels. Long lines were almost entirely eliminated, but people were not happy. The board was accused of turning a “House of God” into a cheap money-making scheme. Others dubbed it the “Pay to Pray” policy. Some suggested that only tourists should pay, but that was impossible to administer, since once the security point was cleared, visitors were free to do what they liked: save their souls or save their selfies. Public pressure continued to rise, and the board was forced to act. But instead of backing down, they decided to further articulate their system in the hopes of appeasing the public.


Instead of having a uniform entrance fee, the board decided to increase the price when the mosque was most crowded and reduce the price when it was least crowded. Sensors were placed on every corner to generate precise models of how many people were in the mosque and what they were doing. This system was connected to a large screen installed above the main gate. The screen showed the changing entrance fee in real time, updating every 10 seconds. As you can imagine, this did not go over well. Some in the media mocked the board for having a “gas station mentality.” But despite all the criticism, no one could argue with numbers. The board initiated a media campaign clearly showing that the new system succeeded in spreading out the number of visitors throughout the day, and largely reducing the congestion at rush times.

This idea of ‘rush times’ becomes crucial to the story. To understand it, we have to talk about the second controversial decision the board took: hiring actors to play the role of tourists and worshipers. As explained above, Muslims pray at five specific times of the day. Combine this with the dynamic entrance fee system, and you get a predictable visitor pattern. To avoid high fees, tourists tended to visit the mosque when no collective prayer was taking place, such as early morning and late evening. This meant that there were times when the mosque was primarily filled with worshipers, and times it was primarily filled with tourists. This was a problem.

Tourists reported in their exit surveys that they didn’t get an “authentic” experience in the mosque, since there were barely any worshipers. They had hoped to take pictures of the beautiful mosque filled with devout worshipers wearing their traditional white garbs and performing their holy routine. An empty mosque, though still beautiful, did not feel like a real mosque. So, the board did what it thought it had to. A cast of actors was hired to occupy the mosque at times when actual collective prayers were not taking place. The actors did not even have to be Muslim (since hiring people based on religion was illegal), they just needed to learn the prayer moves and appear as pious as possible.

Surprisingly, the board realized that the opposite effect was also taking place. Worshipers, having grown used to being surrounded by camera-flashing tourists while they prayed, felt that there was “something missing” when the tourists were not there. This mostly happened at the Dawn Prayer, when the tourists were all sleeping in their hotels, but it affected other prayer times as well. Surveys showed that the constant presence of the tourists had psychologically altered the worshipers’ sense of spiritual fulfillment. It seemed that the more tourists there were (in their paparazzi-like hordes), the more worshipers enjoyed their prayers. To the board, this called for an obvious solution: the actors’ employment was simply extended so that they also played tourists when needed.

I don’t need to tell you how this was received by the public. Large crowds demonstrated outside the mosque and demanded the firing of the board. The masses accused the board of “turning what is holy into a farce.” One of their most popular chants was: “Down, down with the blasphemous clown!”—referring to the board’s chairperson. But the protesters also wanted to shame the actors who participated in this “sacrilegious game.” Their struggle was that the actors were trained not to break character until they were far away from the mosque, so the protesters could never tell apart the ‘real’ worshipers/tourists from the ‘fake’ ones. After several days of chaos, the government capitulated to the demands of the protesters and the board was fired.

To end, let me share this story that a protester told me, although I could not find any corroborating evidence for it. She said that during one bizarre Tuesday afternoon, a few months ago, due to a scheduling error that coincided with a maintenance shut down, the mosque was entirely filled with actors. Some were acting as if they were worshipers and others were acting as if they were tourists. None of them realized what was happening until they left the prayer hall and saw that the main gate was closed.

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