Lalish – Visiting the spiritual heart of the Yazidi people
After several days in Iraq, we crossed into Iraqi Kurdistan, the autonomous Kurdish region in the north of the country. There was a passport check at the border, and our Iraqi guide was replaced by a local guide from Kurdistan.
Most people have probably never heard of the Yazidis. That was certainly true for me until I saw Nadia Murad receive the Nobel Peace Prize for her fight against sexual violence in war.
Later, I read her book The Last Girl, which gave me a brutal insight into how the Yazidi people were treated by ISIS between 2014 and 2016. Men who refused to convert to Islam were executed, while women and girls were taken captive and used as sex slaves.
Nadia Murad herself was one of those captives, and her story left a deep impression on me.
The Yazidis are a Kurdish religious minority living mainly in northern Iraq, southeastern Turkey, and northern Syria. Their faith may have roots stretching back thousands of years and contains elements from several older religious traditions.
They do not have strict dress codes for either men or women. Women are not required to cover their hair or arms. The peacock is an important symbol in their faith because of Malak Taus, the Peacock Angel, one of the central figures in Yazidi belief.
Yazidi society is traditionally organised around a hereditary religious hierarchy headed by a prince known as the Mir.
Lalish Temple
We were fortunate enough to visit Lalish during the annual festival known as Cejna Cemaiya (The Feast of the Assembly).
As a result, long queues formed as pilgrims made their way towards the sanctuary, which lies hidden deep within a narrow valley.
Before entering the sacred area, everyone must remove their shoes. From there, visitors continue barefoot or in their socks for several hundred metres. It is not a major inconvenience, although my socks certainly looked worse afterwards.
Everyone was dressed in their finest clothes, which made us stand out quite a bit.
It was not only our clothing that made me feel different. I noticed that many of the men dyed their hair and beards. With my grey-white beard, I attracted a fair amount of attention myself. I could tell people noticed, but it was all friendly and good-natured.
Apart from that, we felt genuinely welcome. Everyone could see that we were outsiders, yet people smiled, asked where we came from, and repeatedly told us that we were welcome.
What struck me most was the number of young people compared to older generations. Given the Yazidis’ recent history, perhaps that should not have surprised me.
The atmosphere felt somewhat subdued. Maybe that was simply because of the religious nature of the gathering. But after learning about what the Yazidi people have endured in recent years, it was difficult not to think that this is still a community carrying deep scars.
Having read Nadia Murad’s book and tried to understand at least a small part of their history, I can only admire the resilience of a people who continue to rebuild their lives while preserving their traditions, rituals, and identity.
These two young men were volunteers helping to keep the site clean. They swept the walkways and collected rubbish throughout the day. One of them even offered me a bottle of water, and afterwards I asked if I could take their photograph.
Part of my Iraq and Kurdistan series
Start with the overview article:
