Despite what the above might suggest about Sheikh Muhammad Abdullah, his actions at Sachsenhausen—as well as his interactions with Hugo Marcus afterwards—show a complex man struggling in a difficult situation. The imam’s helping to get the former editor and mosque chairman out along with the latter’s continued trust in the former imply that relationships based on faith-based encounters can endure regardless of difficulties and differences.
Baer notes that a variety of factors could account for the imam’s shift from pro-Nazi to something more ambivalent. The shock to the November 9 Pogrom—which left businesses and synagogues within view of the Berlin Mosque in flames—along with the incarceration of someone as influential and significant to the mosque’s history and work as Hugo Marcus, may have facilitated his change in outlook13. Upon obtaining Marcus’ release from Sachsenhausen, Abdullah helped personally advocate on behalf of, and assisted with a visa for, Marcus to British India, where the Lahore Ahmadiyya Movement was headquartered and where Marcus was later personally invited to come and stay permanently.
This process, however, did not occur in a vacuum. Tensions began to rise as the nation not only inched closer to war and the Nazi regime ramped up its campaign of extermination. Thus, the Gestapo and Nazi police doubled down on their surveillance of the Berlin Mosque, the German Muslim Society, and Abdullah. To make matters even worse, other Islamic organizations like the Islam Institute spoke out in favor of the party, urging the authorities to delegitimize the Ahmadis by labeling the German Muslim Society an enemy of the Nazi state14. As bad as things were for the community, times were even tougher for Hugo Marcus, who, like other Jews in Germany at the time, was stripped of his passport, his assets and valuables, fingerprinted, and outwardly labeled Jude15. Despite these horrors, Marcus and Abdullah decided to remain in Berlin to finish editing the German translation and commentary of the Qur’an. Abdullah called Marcus’ efforts on this project “indispensable”16. Marcus had work to do on behalf of his faith and his community, even as life became unbearable.
Finally in August 1939, the translation was published. Though not explicitly referred to by name in the foreword—likely due to police surveillance of the mosque—the text calls Marcus “a great German friend” whose “assistance was indispensable and invaluable,” and whose “love of Islam is boundless.” It even closes with a prayer: “may God bless and reward him”17. Marcus’ contributions to the translation offer further insight to the resistance that the German Muslim Society employed at such a difficult time. For example, passages in the Qur’an and subsequent commentary emphasize religious tolerance, disdain for persecution, protecting houses of worship including synagogues, and stark warnings not to help oppressors, nor to obey nor blindly follow a Führer18.
With these lasting words in print, and with war imminent, Abdullah certified Marcus’ good character, allowing him to leave Germany, though not for India but instead Switzerland. Old friends from “Islam Evenings,” like Dr. Max Jordan, a Catholic journalist and advocate for gay rights, facilitated his entry. Upon Marcus’ departure, Abdullah too was forced to leave after the outbreak of the war. Prior to pausing services at the mosque, one of the final sermons he delivered spoke unapologetically about the need to appreciate human diversity and to respect each other’s differences. This message directly echoes invocations from both the Qur’an and the traditions of the Prophet Muhammad with respect to a Muslim’s obligation to uphold justice and combat injustice. Indeed, a tradition of the Prophet relates that when asked what was the best form of struggle or jihad, he responded, “A word of truth/justice to an oppressive/tyrannical authority”19. What Hugo Marcus contributed in translation, what Sheikh Abdullah spoke at the gates of Sachsenhausen, and what the sermon in December in 1939 were just that—words of truth and justice directed at Nazi oppression and tyranny.
Reflection and Relevance
“You who believe, uphold justice and bear witness to God, even if it is against yourselves, your parents, or your close relatives. Whether the person is rich or poor, God can best take care of both. Refrain from following your own desire, so that you can act justly—if you distort or neglect justice, God is fully aware of what you do”20.
This story is many things—moving, complicated, inspiring, and infuriating; it necessarily invokes a variety of emotional reactions from anger to gladness. The implications it has for us today, the relevance and timeliness it still holds, are no different. Exploring these events, translating them from that horrible time to our own, is no easy task. And yet, it must be done. What can we learn from this convoluted story?
With respect to Marcus, in our present day and age, as much as in the early 20th century, many of these labels—“Muslim,” “Jew,” and “gay”—often carry oversimplified assumptions and stereotypes. Hugo Marcus’ complex and intersectional identity challenges many of our preconceived notions. Further, his life warns us against attributing qualities to others based on these prejudices. Marcus’ example also stands out because of how people from one identity or faith might assume that something pertaining to another would not interest them. A Muslim may not directly connect with someone they know only as a Jewish person, for example. Yet, in Hugo Marcus, we have someone whose identities bring together so many who otherwise might emphasize only their differences. In a similar way, as humanity becomes increasingly connected, our identities are also becoming more nuanced than ever before, with respect to our races, religious affiliations, genders, sexual orientations, politics, nationalities, ethnicities, and so much more. It is thus paramount that we draw upon the example of a person like Hugo Marcus to understand how we can better coexist in our common humanity.
Hugo Marcus & the Berlin Mosque: A Model & Caution for Community-Building
“O humanity! Indeed, We created you from a single pair (a male and a female), and made you into diverse peoples and nations so that you may come to know (and understand) one another. Surely the most noble of you in the sight of God is the most righteous (in piety) among you. God is truly All-Knowing, All-Aware”21.
In a similar way, the significance of Hugo Marcus’ intersectional identity extends to the community he clove to for so long. We, as faith leaders and members of religious congregations, can learn much from this humble tenacity and willingness to live committed to one tradition while working with and respecting others. We can see in his story the necessity of building tolerance and acceptance into the foundational tenets of a community. Marcus was, after all, able to walk into a mosque as a gay, Jewish convert and be accepted for who he was, going on to become a major force and leader within the community. And he was not alone in this! From this fact, we can learn to model not just tolerance of differences, not merely building bridges between ourselves, but we can go further, bringing us all onto the same side. Though these connections are helpful in establishing connection and communication, so long as we solely value the bridge and not the person or people on the other side, we will remain disconnected. Without Hugo Marcus, there would be no German Qur’an translation and commentary released before World War II. Without the Berlin Mosque, Hugo Marcus would not have had the interfaith friendships that led to such a beautiful moment of solidarity at the gates of a concentration camp.
12. Qur’an 93:1-7
13. Marc David Baer, „Muslim Encounters with Nazism and the Holocaust: The Ahmadi of Berlin and Jewish Convert to Islam Hugo Marcus,” The American Historical Review 120, no. 1 (January 2015): pg. 140-171.
14. Ibidem, pg. 165.
15. Ibidem.
16. Ibidem.
17. Ibidem, pg. 167.
18. Ibidem, pg. 168.
19, Musnad Aḥmad 18449.
20. Qur’an 4:135
21. Qur’an 49:1.
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