The Enderun Tarawih Prayer: A Ramadan experience at the Eyup Sultan Mosque

Framed by cypress and plane trees and bordering the waters of the Golden Horn stands a captivating destination, the Eyup Sultan Mosque, home to the tomb of Abu Ayyub al Ansari, one of Prophet Muhammad’s companions. On a recent afternoon, I visited this centuries old site, its historic and spiritual magnitude closely linked with the story of Istanbul itself.

The Prophet was famously noted to have said, “One day, Constantinople will be conquered. Great is the commander who will conquer it. Great are his soldiers.” The first attempt would occur in 670, when Abu Ayyub al Ansari, despite being over the age of 80, went to battle in hopes that he could be of service in the realisation of this prophecy.

The conquest attempt would fail, however, and after contracting dysentery, Abu Ayyub al Ansari’s dying wish would be to be buried within the walls of Constantinople. The exact location of his body would remain unknown for nearly a millennium before miraculously being revealed to the spiritual guide of Mehmed II, Akshamsaddin, in a spiritual vision following the successful conquest in 1453. His tomb and the mosque housing it would be built soon thereafter. Since then, the sloped gardens surrounding the mosque and overlooking the Golden Horn have been filled with the tombs of spiritual figures, Sufi masters, poets and writers, among others.

As I stood in the inner courtyard next to the tomb, the sun's rays broke through the clouds, illuminating the leaves of the plane tree planted by Mehmed II himself and cast beautiful shapes of light across the walls and floors, signalling the approaching sunset.

Before long, the courtyard started to empty, with visitors making their way to the "meydan" or central square of the mosque. The delectable aroma of freshly baked “pide”, a special flatbread only made during the holy month of Ramadan, wafted out from surrounding bakeries, each one attracting crowds of people waiting in long lines in eager anticipation of the breaking of their fasts and the joy of sharing the warm loaves with their loved ones. Some brought food from their own homes to eat while sitting on the grounds of the meydan. Others sat in surrounding restaurants overlooking the beautiful Eyup Sultan Mosque. 

At sundown, the lights on the minarets of the Eyup Sultan Mosque switched on, illuminating the “mahya,” a written statement made of decorative lights hanging between the minarets of mosques during the month of Ramadan, which read, “Namaz Kalbin Huzurudur” (Prayer is the Solace of the Heart). Right afterwards, a chorus of “adhans” (calls to prayer) from the surrounding mosques echoed through the air, bringing the good news of the day-long fast having come to an end. Once the adhans finished, everything went silent — except for the sounds of spoons scraping the rims of bowls as everyone relished the food they had been patiently awaiting all day.

Once the fast had been broken, the ambience surrounding the mosque served as an open display of how seamlessly locations of historical and spiritual significance — all over Istanbul — are woven into the daily lives of Turkish people. Children chased balloons and skated across the meydan’s marble floors with their rollerblades; cafes and shops remained open throughout the night, serving people from diverse backgrounds. From theatrical performances to storytellers and street performers, the spirit of Ramadan exuded a festive atmosphere, offering something for everyone.

For the spiritually inclined, however, it is participating in the tarawih prayer — the religious practice Muslims from around the world eagerly anticipate all year — that is the most treasured activity during the month of Ramadan.

The Eyup Sultan Mosque takes on an even greater significance during this time as it is known for hosting a late-Ottoman Ramadan tradition, a special form of tarawih known as the “enderun” way of tarawih — attending it being the main purpose of my recent visit.

Tarawih, a ritual exclusive to the month of Ramadan, means "rest" in Arabic. The practice is observed after the last daily prayer, “Isha.” Composed of twenty “rakats” (a set of prescribed movements and prayers making up the Muslims’ ritual of prayer), it usually lasts between half an hour and two hours, depending on the length of the verses recited from the Quran. While non-obligatory prayers are usually performed alone and not in communion, the tarawih is an exception and was first led by Omar, companion of the Prophet and the second of the rightly guided caliphs following the passing of the Prophet. 

As for the Enderun Tarawih, it is a tradition rooted in the Ottoman legacy. Literally meaning “inside” in Ottoman Turkish, “enderun” refers to the inner quarters of Ottoman palaces where future members of the Ottoman government and bureaucracy were trained. This form of tarawih was first performed in 1831 in these inner quarters with Sultan Mahmud II, an enthusiast of music, in attendance.

Much like many other traditions, the tarawih took on a new form within the Ottoman experience, marrying a diverse range of Ottoman tunes with the formal structure of the religious practice. A thoroughly melodious experience, the Enderun Tarawih is unique because each of the four rakats of prayer, composing the twenty rakats of tarawih in total, are performed in a different “maqam” (a traditional set of pitches and thematic patterns) as religious hymns adorn the transitory time in between each.

From its origins in the Ottoman palaces, it would then move on beyond the palace walls and come to be performed in the larger “salatin” mosques, mosques built by the sultans themselves. Even during these early times, however, the Eyup Sultan Mosque was known for hosting some of the most talented composers and Quranic reciters of the time, the quality of the tarawih being determined by the melodic harmony achieved by the muezzins chanting the hymns and the imam reciting the verses during the prayer. In fact, it was for this very reason that the gifted composers of the palace came to be referred to by the nickname “Eyyubi,” derived from “Eyup.”

Although the period following the foundation of the Turkish republic led the Enderun Tarawih to fall out of practice as it became discontinued in many mosques, the Eyup Sultan Mosque would remain among a handful of mosques across Türkiye to have kept this tradition alive.

"While there may be slight variations between different mosques, the order and stylistic preferences employed at Eyup Sultan have been the same since the very beginning, nearly two centuries ago,” says the Imam of Eyup Sultan Mosque, Erhan Mete — a soft-spoken, humble man, renowned for the beauty of his Quranic recitation, who has been serving this role for the past 15 years.

Earlier that day, I had realised I was merely one of the many thousands visiting this centuries-old sanctuary. Amidst the ongoing flow of visitors, however, there was one person who stood out from the crowd: an older, slightly hunched man, calmly and continuously sweeping the marble floors of the inner courtyard, right before the tomb of Abu Ayyub al Ansari. And while the floors looked anything but unclean, an odd leaf or a fallen twig were enough for him to pace over to the other end of the courtyard to remove it.

I approached him and asked him, “Amca (uncle), how long have you been here?” His response was as much a confirmation of my assumptions about his long-standing presence at the site as it was shocking: “Ever since I can remember — since 1967, when I was a little boy!” he exclaimed. “Really?!” I asked, unable to conceal my surprise, to which he responded, “Every now and then, even when I go to my village, as soon as I am away for longer than two days, something calls me back and I know I must return. It seems my heart is bound here.”

In fact, his devotion to the mosque should come as no surprise as many others all over Türkiye share the very same love and devotion for the mosque, despite coming from different backgrounds and segments of society.

As Imam Mete reflects, “People here are brought together in their love and longing for the Prophet. People from all over Türkiye, and also from around the world, come to visit this site because they want to be in proximity to someone who was in proximity to the beloved Prophet. They want to be buried here for the same reasons.”

After all, Abu Ayyub al Ansari was the very companion of Prophet Muhammad who had the unique blessing of hosting him in his home in Medina for nearly eight months. He was not only the Prophet's standard-bearer in battles, but was also among the early transcribers of the Quran when the verses were revealed to the Prophet by the Archangel Gabriel.

Reflecting upon the appeal of the site, alluding to the Quranic verse, “And say not of those who are slain in God's cause, ‘They are dead’; nay, they are alive, but you perceive it not.” (Baqara, 2: 154) Mete continued: “We believe that Abu Ayyub al Ansari and the other companions [of the Prophet] buried here, in being martyrs, are still ‘living’ and, therefore, are hearing of our speech.”

And so, before the tomb of Abu Ayyub al Ansari as well as within the mosque, one witnesses people from all walks of life and differing backgrounds praying, in hopes that this visit to someone near and dear to the beloved Prophet, may aid in their prayers being granted by God.

In fact, for Basri Bektas, mufti of the Eyup district, this notion of one’s prayers being accepted rings true in a deeply personal way. A decade ago, he had come to visit the site himself and, opening his palms, had prayed, “Oh Lord, make use of me somehow in this place, whatever the position may be.” Little did he know, his prayer wouldn’t just come true, but it would come true beyond his wildest expectations, delivering him to the peak of his career.

A well-spoken, communicative person who has spent years engaging with people regarding some of their most vulnerable matters, those relating to their rights and obligations in their worldly dealings before God, Bektas’s tone is marked by a sense of repose. Reflecting on the unifying ambiance within the space that is unlike any other, he recounts to me how, on one occasion, someone in the courtyard came to him in tears, sharing that of all places in Istanbul, the Eyup Sultan Mosque was the only place that brought her peace of mind and heart — though, given that her appearance didn’t offer any tangible sign of religiosity, one would never anticipate her having such a deep affinity and appreciation for this holy sanctuary.

Given the modest proportions of the mosque and despite the generous space allocated to women, to avoid having to pray on the thin mats laid outside, I swiftly made my way inside after finishing my meal as the beginning of the Enderun Tarawih prayer approached. There would be hundreds, however, willing to bear through the cold outside just to participate in this special ritual.

Inside the mosque, as the muezzins’ chants echoed around its columns and dim light emanating from the lanterns hanging from the domed ceiling formed a halo above those in deep prayer, it was almost as though one was transported to another era.

The call to the prayer was then poignantly proclaimed in the Hijaz maqam, known for engendering feelings of humility. And so, everyone rose in preparation for the ritual, while the poised yet powerful voice of the imam reverberated through the space: “Hurry to the prayer. Hurry to the prayer. Hurry to salvation. Hurry to salvation. The time for prayer has come. The time for prayer has come. God is Great. God is Great. There is no god except the One God.”

First was the Isha prayer, which was prayed in the Hijaz maqam. As for the 20 rakats of the tarawih prayer, the maqams employed in order, as part of the Enderun style, were: Saba, Huseyni, Ushshaq, Evic and finally, Acemashiran. As for the final three rakats of the “witr” prayer, they were performed in the Segah maqam.

These maqams have been revered not only for their musical merit, but also for their healing properties for over 1,000 years. Their impact on the physical, mental and spiritual well-being of humans was elaborated upon by numerous Islamic thinkers, including, al Farabi, Ibn Sina and Abu Bakr al Razi, among others. In fact, at a time when invasive medical procedures were seen as the only means of combating mental illness in Europe, the Ottomans were busy caring for their mentally ill using musical instruments and tones of these kinds in order to foster greater integration and internal peace among the mentally disabled members of their society.

As such, based on the internally transformative qualities of the maqams, the Enderun Tarawih had begun on a courageous and strong note with the Saba maqam, followed by a more comforting and relaxing tone with the Ushshaq, and finally ended on an awe-striking and powerfully inspiring high note with the Acemashiran maqam.

It wasn’t just the maqams that were deliberate, however; so too was the recitation of the verses. While some were in the form of direct prayers, others were from the chapter “The Compassionate” — or verses that began with the proclamation, “Oh, those who believe” — all of which engendered a sense of unity and harmony amongst those praying. Some of the verses were also unique in that they had a rhyming quality, adding to the musical nature of the practice.

The hymns were specifically chosen as well: Since it was the first week of Ramadan, they were all marked with a welcoming and festive quality, celebrating the arrival of the holy month. Had I been participating in the Enderun Tarawih at the mosque in the second half of Ramadan, they would have been hymns meant to incite longing as Muslims prepared to bid farewell to the holiest month of the year.

Leaving the mosque after the Enderun tarawih procession culminated, there were people offering fresh Turkish delights — some rose flavoured, others filled with pistachios — as a way of celebrating the fulfilment of the practice and showing gratitude for the blessings it had offered.

The enderun way of tarawih, with its diverse melodic range, has something to offer people of varying temperaments, at times soft and smooth, at others more powerful and piercing. On this note, Bektas poignantly reflects on the internally moving nature of the practice being a product of the transformative dimension imbued within Quranic recitation.

Referencing the Quranic verse, “We send down (stage by stage) in the Quran that which is a healing and a mercy to those who believe.” (Isra, 17:82) He shared, “No matter what religious or cultural background one may be coming from, the healing and mercy that comes through the beautiful recitation of the Quran moves the listener. This was the very reason why the Prophet himself, despite being the receiver of revelation, still loved listening to it by those who were musically talented.”

The Enderun Tarawih prayer will be held every night during Ramadan at the Eyup Sultan Mosque, along with the mosques of Fatih, Sultanahmet, Kadikoy, Fenerbahce, Sahrayicedid and Maltepe Aydinevler. In another 44 mosques located all around Istanbul, it will be performed on designated nights, the dates of which have been announced by the respective municipalities of each district.

And so, whether you are looking to have a spiritually uplifting and authentic experience of what Ramadan was like in the Ottoman palaces, featuring audiences of musically gifted imams and muezzins, or whether you simply wish for an opportunity to feel amongst the Turkish people and get a sense of the shared history that bonds them and brings them together, Eyup Sultan is bound to have a unique gift in store for you.