Shrinking Caravan of Hajj

The latest news in Greater Kashmir about the sharp decline in Hajj applications from Jammu and Kashmir should not be read simply as a statistical update or an administrative concern. In fact, it’s a mirror held up to our society, economy and spiritual priorities. Only a decade ago, aspirants would throng Hajj Committee offices, filling forms in numbers so high that lotteries had to be held. Today, the reverse is befalling. Thousands of allotted Hajj seats remain vacant, waiting for pilgrims who never come.

This shift cannot be dismissed away as a temporary trend. It implies something deeper: a changing relationship between faith, finances and lived realities of ordinary Kashmiris in present times.

Hajj has always been valued as a holy obligation, one of the five pillars of Islam. Yet it is also bound by a condition called Istita’at, the financial and physical capacity to perform it. As such, the existing drop in applications is not essentially a decline in devotion but an indicator of shrinking economic capacity.

The middle-class Kashmiri family that once earmarked savings for Hajj now finds those reserves drained by rising costs of healthcare, education and daily survival. Inflation is not just an economic statistic; it can present itself as a spiritual barrier too. When Hajj costs climb to nearly Rs 5 lakh, what we are witnessing cannot entirely be termed as a ‘failure of faith’ but a failure of affordability as well.

But there is more to this than just rupees and riyals. There is a quiet cultural shift unfolding. Kashmiris are increasingly choosing Umrah over Hajj. Why? Because Umrah is comparatively less pricey, less physically demanding, and can be undertaken at any time of the year. It is not a substitute for Hajj in the religious sense, yet for many, it pacifies the spiritual longing without much economic or physical strain.

This choice reveals something thoughtful. Spirituality is adapting itself to changing times. Religion is not fading. It’s perhaps recalibrating itself to fit into the pockets and health profiles of its followers.

Climate change, too, plays an invisible role here. Pilgrims are now expected to endure temperatures soaring above 50 degrees Celsius during the Hajj season. Senior applicants, the mainstay of Hajj applicants from South Asia, are understandably hesitant. Their bodies, already frail, cannot withstand the tough weather. This cannot be dubbed as a lack of will but rather a human limitation.

We must, therefore, look at the decline in Hajj applications not only as an economic reflection but also as a climate story. Faith traditions, like everything else, are being reshaped by global warming.

Another subtle dimension is the loss of collectivity. In past, Hajj preparations in Kashmir were a joint affair. Families saved together, neighbours participated, and whole locality bid goodbye with pride and prayers. It used to be a mutual event of bliss. Today, the pilgrimage feels more like an individual effort, a private affair restricted to handful of relatives amidst a silent struggle against financial odds. The social fabric that once cushioned the emotional and economic burden in Kashmir, has thinned out.

What, then, does this decline in applicants really tell us? It says that sacred journeys cannot be separated from earthly realities. Faith is constant, but the ways to fulfil it are fragile, vulnerable to inflation, climate, and at times inharmonious with shifting lifestyles. The dropping numbers at the Hajj Committee office are not just mere data. They are a narrative of how economic and social pressures can alter the rhythm of devotion.

It also suggests an urgent need for rethinking community priorities. If a society, once recognized for its overflowing Hajj lists, now surrenders half its quota, perhaps the question to ask is as to what are we doing with our resources? Are we building a society where spiritual aspirations are collapsing under the weight of everyday survival or the worldly extravaganza?

Moreover, this is not about criticizing facilities or highlighting gaps in arrangements. It is about recognizing that for many the Hajj has moved from being a reachable milestone to a distant dream. The decline is not perhaps just a loss of fervour; it’s a loss of feasibility.

In that sense, the dropping numbers are not barely a dilemma for the Hajj Committee but a wake-up call for policymakers, economists and religious scholars alike. Faith may be eternal, but its expressions on earth are inseparable from the conditions of life. And when those conditions vary, so does the shape of devotion too.

Bottomline: The caravan to Hajj is shrinking. Not perhaps because our hearts have turned less devoted, but because pockets are also getting thinner, bodies weaker and climates becoming harsher. The challenge before us is to ensure that this sacred journey does not become a privilege of the few, but remains, as it was always intended, an obligation within reach of the faithful.