Traditional Muslim architects were guided by cosmic patterns and principles which shaped their designs and tastes. Tawhid or ‘Divine Unity’ was the foundational principle upon which Islamic architecture was developed. This article will expand on this further through an exploration of the architecture of Mamluk Cairo.
لا إلهَ إلاَّ اللَّه
The Shahadah or testimony that there is ‘No god but God’ resides in the heart of the believer. This divine declaration veils His nature while affirming Him as the One. A wise man once wrote that Surah al-Ikhlas (Chapter 112 of the Qur’an, The Sincerity) calls for us to submit to that Oneness. He wrote: “For sincerity implies an unreserved assent, and for this to be achieved, the soul needs to be made aware that the oneness in question is not a desert but a totality, that the One-and-Only is the One-and-All…”1
Another great sage described sincerity as “the unification of all of one’s faculties in a single pursuit: the attainment of the good pleasure of one’s Lord.”2 By achieving true sincerity and aligning our entire being with the Divine, we can achieve tawhid of the heart. When this happens we begin to perceive and respond to the world accordingly.
Allah invites us to reflect upon the ever changing and diverse elements in the physical world around us in the Qur’an:
“Indeed, in the creation of the heavens and the earth, and the alternation of the night and the day, are signs for those of understanding— Who remember Allah while standing or sitting or [lying] on their sides and give thought to the creation of the heavens and the earth, [saying], ‘Our Lord, You did not create this aimlessly; exalted are You. Protect us from the punishment of the Fire.'” ( 3:190–191)
This divine call to ‘reflect’ at all times is what guided Muslim artisans and architects of old to look towards the created world, with its precise measurements and purpose, for inspiration.
Consider plants and trees, fruits and vegetables; they differ in shape, texture and colour but all depend upon water for life. No created thing is sufficient to just be on its own. Night follows the day, in repeated patterns and death follows life. All worldly dualities are evidently subject to assigned durations and precise cosmic laws. The created world guides us to the first principle, tawhid.
So how does the concept of tawhid manifest itself in Islamic architecture? Traditional architects and master artisans were inspired to mirror divine activity by designing environments that reflected Unity. They used both ‘aql (intellectual faculties) and ‘ayn al-qalb (the inward eye) to craft spaces that honoured Allah’s created world while guiding us towards reflection. These principles, as we will see, were seamlessly encapsulated in the architecture of Mamluk Cairo (648-923 H/1250-1517 AD).
The Mausoleum of Shajjar al-Durr
In al-Ashraf, one of Cairo’s historic cemeteries, you will find the resting place of saints, princes and sultans (all figures of temporal and spiritual authority). In some of its magnificent maqams or mausoleums you’ll also find descendents of the Prophet Muhammad ﷺ. Traditionally mausoleums were built to signify the importance of the one buried beneath; their domes can be easily identified from a distance due to ‘urf (the custom of society) which held that no building could exceed the height of a minaret or dome. Amongst the many maqams is that of Sultanah Shajjar al-Durr (built 648AH / 1250 AD), the first and only official female Mamluk ruler. She was the first patron to build a mausoleum within a madrasa (school) (for her husband the Sultan al-Malik al-Salih) – initiating a practice that would become a hallmark of Mamluk architecture.

Circle Within a Square: A World Within Higher Worlds
The dome of the maqam of Shajjar al-Durr rests upon a cube-shaped chamber (see Figure 1). From a geometric perspective, the building can be seen as a circle within a square. The shape of the circle holds several meanings but we will consider two of them.
First, the circle is the least defined shape in geometry – there is no end or beginning thus signifying the Divinity in its Unknowability. Second, the circle implies continuous movement – like a coin rolling on the ground symbolising constant change, where no movement is like another.
Now, contrast this with the shape of the square (or cube), which is stable and fixed. The shape evokes the idea of groundedness in this earthly world – a place with order, physicality and natural laws / patterns. Taken together they represent the relationship between heaven and earth.

Stepping under the dome, you gain a better understanding of the symbolism; the chamber has three doors and a mihrab (prayer niche), each within the four walls of the mausoleum. Above each doorway are stucco decorations with both geometric and vegetal designs (Figure 2 ). Taken together, this mix of abstract geometry and natural form might seem unusual, but the plants represent the natural world while the geometrical patterns are a representation of human intervention in the world. These two points together show us how traditional architects and master artisans crafted designs to be consistent with Divine principles present in the earthly world.
Above each door and in the mihrab are four stacked wooden beams; they are engraved with Ayat al-Kursi (the Qur’anic verse of the Pedestal) (Figure 3). This visually immerses the viewer in the Qur’an, serving as a reminder of how al-Kursi (the Divine Throne or Pedestal) engulfs both the heavens and the earth. Looking further up, the dome rests on a base with eight windows (Figure 3), referencing the scene on the Day of Judgement when the Throne is carried by eight angels. The highest point of the dome signifies the Divine Essence, which cannot truly be conveyed except through signs and symbols. The dome serves as a meeting place between the earth, the heavens and the higher worlds.

Image via Archnet.
The doors serve as a threshold between this corporeal life (represented by the square) and the one that follows. As you enter, you stand between two worlds, the Barzakh (the Intermediary world between this life and the Afterlife). As your gaze ascends, you make your way to the higher domains, the heavens, and then al-Kursi – compared to which the earth and heavens are nothing but infinitesimal elements, mere rings in a vast desert. The building as a whole represents the mi’raj (ascension) in the stations of being, especially of the person buried within. Nestled between the heavens and earth, their position – at least symbolically – suggests a mediating role between the two realms – just as sultans and emirs often aspired to combine both temporal (political) and spiritual authority in life.
Jami’e Al-Sultan Hasan
Close to the heart of Islamic Cairo, just a short walk away from the majestic Citadel of Salah al-Din, stands the Sultan Hasan Compound consisting of a jami’e (jummah mosque) and madrasa of Sultan Hasan. This inspiring complex was completed around 1362 CE (746 AH) and remains a powerful symbol of Cairo’s Islamic legacy.
Sitting on one of Islamic Cairo’s most important crossroads, it lies mere steps away from the Sultan’s former seat of power and the pathway of the annual parade of al-Mahmal (the ceremonial parade) which carried the beautifully embroidered kiswah (the cloth that covers the Ka’bah) from Cairo all the way to Makkah.

While grand in its presence, with a façade that extends 145 metre in length (Figure 4), the most decorated of its exterior elements is the 38 metre portal (Figure 5). This feature, of keeping the most beautiful elements of the building on the inside, can be readily recognised in many Islamic vestiges3 – it is consistent with Islam’s focus on sincerity, prioritising the innermost aspect of a Muslim, the heart.

The design of the portal blends elements of Anatolian-styled columns, intricate geometric interlaces, elegant floral motifs and two distinct types of calligraphy – one featuring the Shahada (declaration of faith) and the other naming the Four Rightly Guided Caliphs. Taken together they signal an invitation to enter the space having put worldly thoughts aside.
From Darkness to the Celestial Dome
The moment you step inside the Mosque of Sultan Hasan, the space inside slowly detaches you from the distractions of the outside world; the thick stone walls muffle the sounds of bustling Cairo, as your senses adjust to the stillness within.

To reach the prayer area, you must walk through a narrow, dark dihliz (passageway) (Figure 6) with intermittent lighting coming through the malqafs (ventilation shafts). The dim and slightly arduous pathway takes the worshiper to the heart of Sultan Hasan – the open courtyard (Figure 7). In the middle of the courtyard stands the wudu (ablution) fountain with its gently flowing water. Looking up, you’ll find that the sky serves as a celestial dome, an example of how architects were able to seamlessly blend human craft and the natural world with spiritual intent.

The fountain’s position in the centre carries profound significance. The courtyard was built in a cruciform layout, featuring four iwans (a vaulted hall, walled on three sides) with an intersection in the middle. At its centre, water – the source of life, flows. Surrounding it, inside the four iwans, were located the Four Schools of Law (Shari’a): the Hanbali, Hanafi, Maliki and Shafi’i madhabs. The word shari’a finds its derivative from the word shar’a ( شرع) , denoting a pathway for water, the brook of life. It is as if every authentic madhab takes its origin from the God-made element water. Allah states:
“We made from water every living thing. Will they not then believe?” ( 21:30)
Al-Dhaher Barquq’s Mihrab
Our final stop on this journey is to visit the mihrab (prayer niche) of al-Dhaher Barquq’s Mosque and Madrasa. After passing through the dihliz to perform wudu, the worshiper arrives at the mihrab for prayer – corresponding to a horizontal movement.
The mihrab engages the worshipper in a number of ways; along with orienting a person towards the qibla for prayer, its design magnifies and reverberates the voice of the imam throughout the prayer hall. As the Words of Allah emanate from the direction of the qibla, worshippers are reminded that there is no mediator between the supplication of the believer and Allah.4
Elevation of the Seeker
In al-Sultan Barquq’s jami’e and madrasa (completed in 787 H/1386 AD) in Islamic Cairo, we find a mihrab that is laden with great significance (Figure 8). It is comprised of two parts: a rectangular lower structure topped with a circular/oval shaped hood, evoking the same symbolism discussed earlier whereby the rectangle represents earth, the stage upon which Allah manifests His Attributes. However, upon closer inspection, moving closer towards the mihrab, it becomes clear that the structure is in fact cylindrical, indicating a symbolic transition from the terrestrial to the heavenly abodes.

The panels comprising the mihrab should be viewed from the bottom moving upwards (from the earth to the heavens), a challenging movement that symbolises a struggle against one’s desires, thoughts and whims (jihad al-nafs). Starting at the base of the structure, there are seven layers decorated with arches, imaginal vegetal ornamentation and Qur’anic calligraphy, crowned by the half-hemisphere taqiya (skullcap/hood) of the mihrab.
At the centre of the taqiya, there is a small dome-shaped icon that serves as the keystone for the joggled voussoirs (interlocked stones). The removal of the keystone would result in the collapse of the taqiya. Like the sun upon the horizon, rays of ‘light’ (in white, black, red and yellow marble) emanate from this central icon, spilling out to the outer borders of the mihrab. Going further up, you will find the Supreme Name of God, with ‘Muhammad’ ﷺ below it in a black vegetal motif.
Here, the connotations related to mi’raj (spiritual ascension) are inescapable; the movement from down to up is an inherently human affair. As the being moves upwards, knowledge takes more heavenly forms, designated in the panels with the beautifully inlaid seashell and ablaq (black and white) vegetal ornamentation. Qur’anic verses contour this higher presence. When we reach the taqiya at the top, the luminous light of the imam (he who stands under the mihrab to lead prayer indicated by the above mentioned dome-shaped icon) radiates, under the auspices of the Supreme Name and the Prophet ﷺ. Just as the worshipper underwent a horizontal journey to stand at the mihrab, the heart now undertakes a vertical journey, an ascension to the Divine Presence.
Knowledge of Paradise
The Divine Attributes of God are manifest in the material world, something that was abundantly clear to the Muslim architects of the past who incorporated the signs of the Supreme Principle, tawhid, in their designs. It is not sufficient to merely be mesmerised by the aesthetic beauty of Cairo’s Mamluk buildings, we must also take heed of the internal dialogue, the higher meanings conveyed within the architecture itself.
Just as tawhid resides in the heart first and is manifest in the outward world, Mamluk architecture can only be fully appreciated when viewed with the inner eye before the outer, physical one. The traditional Islamic built environment and arts disclose a civilisation that prioritised spirituality over the material, something that has been inverted in our time. Architectural elements and designs were not coincidental nor based upon the whims or self expression of their craftsmen, but were rather deliberate attempts to point the viewer towards the isharat (signs / symbols) present in creation, and an invitation to reflect upon the Unity and Oneness of Allah. This reflection requires sincerity and commitment, and those who strive and are able to see with the inward eye, are rewarded with glimpses of the beauty of Heaven during their time in this corporeal existence.
“He will guide them [to their reward], improve their condition and admit them into Paradise, having made it known to them”. (47:5-6).
Footnotes
- Martin Lings, ‘What is Sufism?’ pp.65-66. Islamic Texts Society. ↩︎
- Mostafa al-Badawi, ‘Man and the Universe’, p. 108. Ihya Publishing. ↩︎
- This is the case with many Mamluk buildings (housing, hospitals, mosques, etc.), but this trend extended well beyond Egypt and the Levant (beyond Mamluk architecture) to as far as al-Andalus. Al-Hambra’s bedazzling beauty is on the inside of the palaces rather than the outside. ↩︎
- Sahih al-Bukhari Book (8) on Prayer, Bab 33. ↩︎


