The children playing football in a side street near the Ibn Toloun Mosque last Sunday evening were well aware that somebody important was visiting their neighborhood.
The main road was being sluiced down by street cleaners and holes filled with rubble. A dozen or so serious-looking men with walkie-talkies were prowling the area in search of security risks. And throughout the evening a steady flow of journalists and professionals in suits could be seen entering a newly-renovated mosque on Sabil Street, which runs between the Ibn Toloun Mosque and the Citadel.
The local children had been hoping to see Suzanne Mubarak that evening. In the end, they had to settle for Minister of Religious Endowments Mahmoud Hamdy Zaqzouq and Minister of Culture Farouk Hosni, resplendent in his jet black bouffant and open-neck shirt.
Flanking them as they took their seats for a video presentation were Cairo Governor Abdel-Azim Wazir, and the head of the Supreme Council of Antiquities, Dr Zahi Hawass, who burst in somewhat late, having been held up by the traffic and street cleaners.
The object of all this frenzied attention was the Sheikhu Mosque, a fine 14th century structure in the Mamluk style, which was being officially re-opened after four years of painstaking conservation work. Across the road, its sister building, the Sheikhu Khanqah was also being unveiled, as were two sabil/kuttabs – drinking fountains for passersby with Quran learning rooms above them.
The mosque and khanqah were named after the Amir Sheikhu, who built them between 1349 and 1355, during the early Mamluk period.
Sheikhu was an Amir Kabir (Grand Prince) under the Sultan Al-Nasir Hassan. His responsibilities were primarily military, and he was an important member of the Sultan’s power structure. In keeping with the tradition of the time, Sheikhu constructed the two religious buildings towards the end of his life, an act of religious devotion intended to make up for a somewhat worldly career.
Abdullah Al-Attar, an official from the Ministry of Culture present for the unveiling, explained the origins of the buildings.
“Amir Sheikhu was a military man, he told Daily News Egypt. “Many such princes were quite radical and concerned with power. However, by the end of their lives, they would build mosques in order to purify the negative deeds they had done during their life. They wanted to go to heaven, and in the Quran it says that those who build mosques will have a palace in heaven.
The Sheikhu Khanqah performed a role roughly similar to that of a madrassa, although the term ‘khanqah’ is borrowed from the Persian language and was originally associated with the Sufi sect. The khanqah’s role as a place of religious contemplation and study can be seen in the warren of small rooms built off the main courtyard.
“These study areas are traditionally for old men who maybe have families and jobs, but who want to come here for a few hours in the night to study and pray, continued Al-Attar. “Such a man wants to travel to heaven in his mind, and then return to his family or work in the morning.
“The idea is to allow people to separate from society for a while and just be with God.
The simple prayer rooms contain no furniture, just a few small shelves and a window overlooking the courtyard. In line with the principles spelled out in the UNESCO-inspired plan for salvaging such sites, the rooms will be returned to their original use once the building is handed over to the Ministry of Religious Endowments later this month.
Touring the site amid a flock of journalists, Dr Zahi Hawass admitted to being no particular expert on Islamic architecture; he is more at home in a Pharaonic tomb. But he was nonetheless enthusiastic about the work done on Sheikhu Mosque and its associated structures. Rather than replacing the damaged structures with new materials, he said, the focus has been on conserving the existing fabric of the buildings.
“As you see, the work we are doing here for the first time is not reconstruction, it is conservation, Hawass told Daily News Egypt. “That’s why when we hire companies to do this work, we have to be sure that they have the expertise in conservation and restoration. And you can see this expertise in the way they have cleaned the walls, for example, as well as the ceilings.
The detail present in the buildings is indeed impressive. Elaborate Quranic inscriptions in blue and white decorate the ceiling of the main prayer hall in the khanqah. The two minbars (imam’s pulpits) boast delicate carving in stone and wooden mashrabiya screens, while damaged marble floors and mosaics have been patched and re-laid. Everywhere are the distinctive red-and-white-striped arches typical of Mamluk architecture.
In one corner of the khanqah’s prayer hall sits an enclosed space with a smooth marble floor. As conservator Mamdouh Ouda explained, beneath the floor lies the Amir’s tomb, the stone structure above it having been pilfered at some point by “the common people.
On the walls above the Amir’s resting place are two frescos depicting scenes from Mecca, both of which have been restored to something of their former glory.
These renovations in Sabil Street are just the latest in a long line of such works in the area commonly known as Islamic Cairo, which runs roughly from the Northern Gates of the Fatimid city wall down to Ibn Toloun Mosque and the Citadel in the south. Several hundred such monuments from the times of Saladin through to the 19th century have been listed by UNESCO since 1979, and each year a couple of dozens see the light magically renewed.
The primary value of such works is in saving the nation’s cultural and religious heritage. But the government is also very much aware of the area’s potential for boosting tourism.
“This renovation work cost Egyptian government LE 11 million, and although we have a close relationship with UNESCO, it was all paid for from our own funds, said Al-Attar.
“We have more than a thousand Islamic and Coptic monuments just in Cairo, and it’s a problem for us. Today we opened four buildings. In other areas it is possible to restore just one or two buildings per year, but in Cairo we have to restore much faster, maybe 25 or 30 buildings per year. Because if we didn’t do that, they would just crumble.
It seems the children of Islamic Cairo can look forward to plenty more high-level delegations in the coming years. Maybe next time it will be Suzanne Mubarak.
