# Shia Muslims Beat Themselves With Swords For Ashura, And The Internet Has Some Thoughts
Look, I know we all have our ways of dealing with grief. Some people cry, some people eat a whole tub of ice cream while watching *The Notebook*, and some people—apparently—decide that the best way to honor a 1,400-year-old tragedy is to whip out a literal sword and start self-flagellating like they're auditioning for a medieval horror film. Welcome to Ashura, everyone.
If you’ve scrolled through Twitter (sorry, "X") or Reddit in the last 24 hours, you’ve probably seen the videos. Shia Muslims in Iraq, Iran, Lebanon, and beyond are observing the Day of Ashura, which marks the martyrdom of Imam Hussein, the grandson of the Prophet Muhammad, at the Battle of Karbala in 680 AD. And yeah, it’s a big deal. Like, “literally the most emotionally charged event in the Shia calendar” big. But for the uninitiated Westerner who just stumbled onto a livestream of a man rhythmically hitting his own back with a chain-sword, it looks less like religious devotion and more like a live-action reenactment of that one scene from *Hellraiser*.
Let’s break this down for the normies in the back.
First off, the history: Imam Hussein and his small band of followers were basically wiped out by the Umayyad Caliphate’s army. They were outnumbered, dehydrated, and fighting for what they believed was justice against a tyrannical ruler. It’s a story of sacrifice, resistance, and standing up to oppression. Even non-Muslims can respect the vibes. But the commemoration? That’s where it gets... visceral.
During Ashura, some Shia Muslims practice *tatbir*, or *qama-zani*, which involves cutting the scalp with a sword or using a *zanjir* (a chain with blades) to beat the back. The blood flows. The crowds wail. And the internet, predictably, loses its collective mind.
“Why are they doing this? Is this some kind of cult? Are they okay? Should I call a priest? Or a therapist? Or both?”
The comments section of any Ashura video is a goldmine of AITA-level judgments. “YTA for hitting yourself with a sword, my guy.” “NTA, it’s their religion, mind your business.” “INFO: How sharp is that chain, exactly?” “ESH because this is clearly a cry for help, but also, stop filming vertical.”
Let’s be real: to the average American who thinks “religious suffering” is sitting through a three-hour sermon or giving up carbs for Lent, this looks absolutely insane. And that’s fine. It *is* insane. That’s the point. Ashura isn’t supposed to be comfortable. It’s supposed to be a raw, physical manifestation of grief for a tragedy that happened over a millennium ago. It’s not a metaphor. It’s not a symbol. It’s blood, sweat, and tears—literally.
But here’s where the Reddit-tier debate kicks in: is this actually religious devotion, or is it just performative self-harm with extra steps?
On one hand, you’ve got the defenders. They’ll tell you that tatbir is a form of *azadari* (mourning) that expresses solidarity with Imam Hussein’s suffering. It’s not about being edgy or getting clout on TikTok. It’s about feeling the pain so deeply that you physically act it out. And hey, if you can’t understand that, maybe you’re just not spiritual enough, Karen.
On the other hand, you’ve got the critics—including many within the Shia community itself. Major Shia scholars, like Ayatollah Khamenei and Ayatollah Sistani, have actually condemned tatbir, calling it “un-Islamic” and saying it gives Islam a bad name. They argue that self-harm is not required or even recommended by the faith. Some even say it’s a cultural tradition that crept in over the centuries, not a core religious practice. So even within the group that’s doing the bleeding, there’s a whole “Are we the baddies?” conversation happening.
Naturally, the internet has no nuance. If you post a video of Ashura, you’re either getting ratioed by atheists screaming “religion is a disease” or by conservatives screaming “see, Islam is violent.” Neither side actually wants to understand the context. They just want the dopamine hit of outrage.
“Bro, I’m just saying, if you need to hit yourself with a sword to feel close to God, maybe rethink your relationship with God. Also, maybe rethink your relationship with swords.”
But here’s the thing: Americans are not exactly in a position to judge. We have people drinking bleach because a TV doctor told them it cures COVID. We have dudes shooting up schools because they’re mad at women who won’t date them. We have a whole political party that thinks a guy who tried to overthrow the government is a hero. And yet, we’re clutching pearls over some dudes in Iraq hitting themselves with chains? Pick your battles, people.
The real takeaway from Ashura isn’t the blood. It’s the *why*. It’s the fact that billions of people can still feel the emotional weight of an event that happened before the printing press was invented. It’s the fact that grief can be collective, physical, and loud. It’s the fact that humans will literally bleed for their beliefs, and that’s either terrifying or beautiful, depending on how much you’ve had to drink.
So next time you see an Ashura video pop up on your feed, don’t just react with the skull emoji and move on. Ask yourself: what would you do for something you truly believed in? Would you march in a parade? Would you post a black square on Instagram? Would you take a chain to your own back?
Final Thoughts
The article underscores how ‘Ashura transcends mere historical mourning, functioning instead as a living, visceral testament to the power of collective memory against tyranny. In my years covering faith and conflict, few rituals so starkly blend raw grief with political defiance, forcing us to reckon with how the past is never truly past in the Middle East. Ultimately, what stands out is the human need to find meaning in sacrifice—a reminder that even the most ancient narratives are constantly rewritten by the living.