tourism, heritage and pilgrimage: the case of haifa's baha´'ı

Tourism, Heritage and Pilgrimage:The Case of Haifa’s Baha’ı Gardens

Noga Collins-KreinerDepartment of Geography and Environmental Studies, University ofHaifa, Haifa 42860, Israel

Jay D. GatrellDepartment of Geography, Geology, and Anthropology, Indiana StateUniversity, Terre Haute, IN 47809, USA

This paper examines the tourist experience within the context of the Baha’ı Gardensin Haifa, Israel. Using Cohen’s (1979) typology and Smith’s (1992) continuum model,we differentiate between visitors and perceptions of the same site. The study employsa mixed methodological approach that includes participant-observation, archivaldocuments and short-informal and unstructured interviews with Baha’ı volunteers,tourists and guides, as well as empirical observations concerning the materiallandscape and the observed practices of pilgrims and tourists. As a result of thegarden’s dual-purpose nature (secular-religious), two very different experiencesco-exist: those that relate to the ‘secular’ and those that relate to the ‘religious’tourist. The contemporary nature of the garden makes the case of the Baha’ıGardens and its cultural and economic context both more distinct – but also some-what ambiguous as the perceived boundaries are unclear.

Keywords: Baha’ı, Haifa, pilgrimage, the tourist experience, tourism

IntroductionThis paper deals with the Baha’ı Gardens in Haifa (Israel) and the specific

spatial practices that have simultaneously developed in place and serve todefine, in part, and differentiate the experiences of the Baha’ı pilgrim andsecular tourist. Though pilgrims are a type of tourist, the word ‘pilgrim’ willbe used throughout the paper to mean religiously-motivated tourists and theword ‘tourist’ will refer to secular tourists.

In this paper, we examine the experience and practice of pilgrims (alsoknown as religious tourists) and secular tourists at the Baha’ı holy site. Tounderstand and explain the socio-spatial practices of these two groups,Cohen’s (1979) typology of the tourist experience and Smith’s (1992) continuummodel are used. Based on our empirical observations, we assert that religioustourism is a complex process and that the practices of tourists and pilgrimsare unique and different at the same site. To understand the Haifa case, thepaper will examine the unique nature of pilgrimage-tourism, the historicaldevelopment of the gardens, the tourism board’s promotion of the site asHaifa’s primary tourist attraction and the distinct spatial practices that havebeen used by both to negotiate the very different expectations of the industry

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and the Baha’ı faith. Additionally, the paper posits that as a result of thegarden’s dual secular and sacred purposes, two very different processesco-exist – the secular tourist’s and the religious tourist’s.

Pilgrimage and TourismTourism, like all industries, is embedded within a complex of socio-spatial

processes that are historically, culturally, and locally dependent (Gatrell &Reid, 2002; McCann, 2002; Petric & Mrnjavac, 2003). It is also embedded in pol-itical processes, particularly in the case of the Haifa Gardens, and it is withinthese locally contingent systems that localities engage in a global competitionfor capital investment. As part of this competition, localities are engaged inthe process of imagining, re-imagining, and marketing a shared local identity(Ooi et al., 2004). The resulting ‘place-craft’ that occurs at tourist sites and intheir host localities suggests that the tourism industry is a complex systemcomprised of perceptions, expectations and experience.

To understand the complexities of tourism, the tourism literature has focuseda great deal of attention on ‘tourist experience’ and the psychosocial dynamicsthat drive tourism (i.e. Cohen, 1979, 1992, 1998; MacCannell, 1973; Turner &Turner, 1969, 1978). In 1973, MacCannell was the first to claim that tourism isa quest for the ‘authentic’. MacCannell went further to assert that contempor-ary tourism embodies many of the same characteristics as that of pilgrimage.Accordingly, McCannell’s tourist is perceived as a pilgrim in the currentmodern secular world. Unfortunately, the analogy of tourism as pilgrimagehas: (1) tended to blur the distinction between the religious and secular, (2)resulted in an uneven treatment of both, and (3) limited the scale and scopeof comparative analyses (Vukonic, 2002). It is impossible to understand thedevelopment of leisure, and therefore tourism, without studying religion andunderstanding the pilgrimage phenomenon in ancient times. Moreover,current industry trends indicated that religious tourism has great economicpotential – and in the case of Haifa religious tourism serves as the cornerstonefor regional growth (Vukonic, 2002).

The relationship between tourism and religion has focused primarily on thequestion of the similarity and difference between the tourist and the pilgrim(Cohen, 1992, 1998; Collins-Kreiner & Kliot, 2000; Olsen & Timothy, 2006;Smith, 1992; Vukonic, 1996). Yet, the dominant use of the terms (e.g. ‘pilgrim’as a religious traveller and ‘tourist’ as a vacationer) is a socially constructedbinary that veils (or obscures) individual motives (Smith, 1992). This binaryis an unfortunate one in that the religious and secular spheres of tourism arerapidly merging as religious tourism assumes a more prominent marketniche in the international tourism marketplace.

To understand the nexus between secular and religious tourism, geographiesof religion have the potential to provide key insights into the secular and sacredsocio-spatial processes that shape everyday life in local places around theworld (Holloway & Valins, 2002: 6). At the most basic level, pilgrimage ‘as apractice’ requires a consecrated space that sets the experience apart from theordinary and the secular and enables an individual to access God or thedivine figure in their cosmology (Digance, 2003).

Tourism, Heritage and Pilgrimage 33

In even more abstract terms, pilgrimage occurs in places where the profanehas been transformed into the sacred over time, and is set apart with bound-aries that delimit where profane time and space make way for the sacredrealm and enable pilgrims to access the centre of the world or axis mundi(Eliade, 1969). As a result, the distribution of pilgrimage sites is inherentlyuneven. From this perspective a pilgrimage is a religiously motivatedjourney to the very centre of the world in a limited number of locations, or toone of its homologous representations in place.

In contrast to the cosmology of place explanations provided by Eliade (1969),Digance (2003), Barber (1993), and Turner and Turner (1969) assert that pilgrim-age is a ‘ritual process’. This process involves a stage of liminality, resemblingthat in which novices find themselves in the transitory stage between two estab-lished social statuses. Another of the Turners’ fundamental ideas is thatpilgrimage centres are typically located out there. This peripherality is bothgeographical-locational and cultural; the sites are marginal to populationcentres, and indeed to the socio-political centres of society. These peripheralcentres are often located beyond a stretch of wilderness or some other uninhab-ited territory, in the ‘chaos’ surrounding the ordered ‘cosmicised’ social world(Turner, 1973: 211–214; Turner & Turner, 1978: 241).

Given the simultaneous status of pilgrimage as the centre, periphery, otherand liminal, the process and places occupy a unique space in the imaginationof both religious and secular tourism – or what Soja (1996) calls a ‘ThirdSpace’. By understating religious sites as a ‘third space’ that exists beyondand between the lived and planned world, researchers will be able to unlockand deconstruct the social practices of the religious and secular tourist atreligious sites. Understanding religious sites as a ‘third space’ enables research-ers to avoid the simplified notions of ‘religious traveller’ or ‘vacationer’ aspilgrim and tourist, respectively (Cohen, 1992; Smith, 1992) insofar as thesetwo groups are linked to one another in a shared space. Indeed, a revisedreligious tourism paradigm based in part on the notion of ‘third space’acknowledges – in both implicit and explicit terms – the interdependentnature of the two actors and the social construction of a site as simultaneouslysacred and secular.

Hence, pilgrims and tourists are distinct actors situated at opposite ends onSmith’s (1992) continuum of travel (Figure 1). The poles on the pilgrimage-tourism continuum are labelled as sacred vs. secular; between them lie almostinfinite possible sacred-secular combinations. Within the centre, though,resides ‘religious tourism’. These positions reflect the multiple and changingmotivations of the traveller whose interests and activities may switch fromtourism to pilgrimage and vice versa, even without the individual beingaware of the change. Jackowski and Smith (1992) use the term ‘knowledge-based tourism’ as synonymous with religious tourism. Most researchers ident-ify ‘religious tourism’ with the individual’s quest for ‘holy places’, shrines andother locales where visitors seek to experience and connect with sites of histori-cal and cultural significance (Nolan & Nolan, 1989). Smith (1992) understandsthe difference to be individual beliefs and views of the world.

While the continuum suggests a vast cleavage exists between the religiousand secular, research suggests a convergence is occurring and religious sites

34 Journal of Heritage Tourism

are increasingly positioned in the middle ground of Smith’s continuum. Forexample, Santos (2002) found that the majority of visitors to Santiago weresimply tourists curious about the city of Santiago, its culture and religioussites. Likewise, Vukonic (2002) argues that religion and tourism have muchin common, as it is increasingly difficult to ignore the reality that conceptual,functional and economic distinction between the religious and profane withrespect to pilgrimage and its impacts of tourism are irrelevant. Indeed, theeconomic imperatives of religious tourism are accelerating the convergenceof the sacred and secular site, and the difference between old-fashionedpilgrimage and tourism is narrowing. For example, the word ‘pilgrimage’itself is widely used in many secular contexts including make-shift memorialsto victims of violence, permanent memorials, and even the homes and graves ofcelebrities. In the United States, pilgrimage to Elvis Presley’s Gracelandmansion in Memphis is the most obvious example (Alderman, 2002;Reader & Walter, 1993). However, new forms of pilgrimage, such as ‘darktourism’, are also emerging as travellers visit cemeteries, churchyards, funerarysites, and even crime scenes (Seaton, 1999, 2002).

Given the expansion of tourist milieus, scholars have begun to considerother forms of pilgrims such as the latest romantics or hippies who beganfrequenting India and the Himalayas beginning in the 1960s. There is also agrowing market for ‘New Age’ spiritual travel for pilgrimage, personalgrowth and non-traditional spiritual practices (Attix, 2002), and an increasingamount of research is being done on modern secular pilgrimage where thesearch for the miraculous is a trait shared by religious and secular pilgrimsalike (Alderman, 2002; Ashworth & Hartmann, 2005; Attix, 2002; Digance,2003; Reader & Walter, 1993; Seaton, 1999, 2002).

Yet, traditional pilgrimage persists and co-exists with the emerging secular-ism in many regions and cultures around the world (Jutla, 2002). Indeed,pilgrimage tourism has effectively forged a link with the past and a social con-nection among contemporary culture groups and often coincides with moretraditional pleasure-based tourism activities on the same trip. The questionis: how does one distinguish a visitor in genuine need of prayer and spiritualpeace from one admiring the work of 11th or 20th century builders orcontemplating the tomb of some famous person?

Figure 1 The pilgrim–tourist continuum (Smith, 1992: 4)


To understand the dynamics of the tourist experience, including religioustourism, Cohen (1979) proposed five modes of the tourist experience whichare based on the place and significance of the given tourist experience in thetotal world-view of tourists: their attitude to a perceived ‘centre’ and thelocation of that centre in relation to the society in which the tourist lives.Cohen claimed (1979: 180) that one cannot describe ‘the tourist’ as a ‘generaltype’ and that several tourist experiences exist, whose examination will helpin understanding the phenomenon of pilgrimage. First, there is the recreationalexperience which is a form of entertainment, based on the belief in the recupera-tive or restorative power of a tourist trip; it is a secular rational belief in thevalue of leisure activities. Closely related to the recreational mode of tourismexperiences is the diversionary mode – a mere escape from the boredom andmeaninglessness of routine everyday existence – into the ‘forgetfulness ofvacation’. The third mode of tourism experiences is the experiential modewhich stresses the quest for meaning outside the confines of one’s ownsociety, the search for authentic experiences. The fourth mode of touristicexperience is the experimental mode – a quest for an alternative in many differ-ent directions – ‘drifters’ as an example. Finally, the fifth and the last mode isthe existential mode which characterises the traveller who is fully committed toan elective spiritual centre, external to the mainstream of his/her native societyand which is epitomised in pilgrimage and pilgrimage experiences. Cohenclaims that tourists travelling in the ‘existential mode’ are analogous topilgrims. Both are fully committed to an elective spiritual centre, external tothe mainstream of their native society and culture because they feel that theonly meaningful ‘real’ life is at the centre (Cohen, 1979: 186).

Sacred SpaceFormal sacred space is usually associated with temples, cathedrals and

palaces. However, this definition relies too heavily on the built environmentand assumes a necessary separation between nature and society. Indeed, thenatural landscape, particularly mountains, caves, trees and water sourcessuch as rivers and streams, are increasingly recognised as an important locusfor sacred sites (Nolan & Nolan, 1989, 1992). In the Haifa case, the sacred char-acter of the Baha’ı Gardens extends from the built landscape, planned gardens,the natural environment and historicity of the location.

In addition to the physical characteristics of sacred sites, conflicts over accessand usage of these places in space-time emerge as a key issue. Additionally,access issues pit a variety of stakeholders against one another as theycompete to establish ownership and legitimate the meaning of a place (i.e.symbolism). As a result, Chidester and Lindenthal (1995: 3) note ancient siteshave become embedded within struggles ‘over nationality, economic empow-erment and basic civil and human rights to freedom of religion and self deter-mination’. Concomitantly, sacred sites have been implicated in a range of localplanning issues as mass tourists, pilgrims and local people compete for use ofthe resource base, such as transportation infrastructures and even parking.These issues are complicated by the distinct external constituencies (traditionalpilgrims, packaged ‘religious tours’ and ‘vacationers’) that visit these sites and


compete for access and for whom the meaning of a site varies. As a result, amulti-layered conflict (of varying degrees) emerges between the local popu-lation, the owners of the site, and the outside visitors, as well as the visitorsthemselves: pilgrims and tourists (Digance, 2003).

Because religion is comprehensive it is fundamentally about power, so itcannot avoid politics. Religion has the ability to ground the use of force in acosmic and moral order; therefore, religion constitutes the ultimate legitimatingof any political system. Religion influences political structures and activity byencouraging and enforcing some attitudes and behaviors and by discouragingand disparaging others (Green, 2003). Religion has long been a catalyst for con-flict in areas where different faiths overlap spatially or where religion mergeswith politics, such as in Israel and Ireland. The discussion of ‘heritage disso-nance’ is useful. Historical dissonance (HD) refers to a disagreement betweengroups regarding the meaning of sites and potential for sites to be an objectof hostility or conflict between groups (Graham et al., 2000). As a result ofHD, stakeholders treat heritage landscapes as a zero-sum game, in which anadvantage for one stakeholder is simultaneously seen to disadvantageanother (Graham et al., 2000).

Controversy involving the politicisation of religion is generally associatedwith competing discourses over a homeland, where emotional attachment tothe land by competing groups transforms the land itself into a sacred place,with the subsequent desire by involved parties to control, possess and todefend their natural and cultural surroundings. Chidester and Linenthal(1995) note that what is considered sacred, including sacred space, is usuallycontested and embedded in power relations. These geographies of conflictplay important roles in understanding social relations among members ofdifferent belief systems, as well as political meanings and interpretations ofspace as manifested in the material and visual articulation of landscape andarchitecture (Azaryahu, 1999).

In the public sphere, religion produces political consequences, shapingattitudes and ideas that make an impact on issues of public policy. Religioncomprises what people do together, not just what they believe in the privacyof their hearts. Religion functions socially, and because it operates withinsociety it may function politically, sometimes through legitimate violence andcoercion. In the view of adherents, power is exercised by or on behalf of Godand his divine agencies (Neusner, 2003).

The Baha’ı, Haifa and the World CentreThe Baha’ı religion is an emerging one with some 6 to 7 million followers in

over 130 independent countries and territories, and its scripture and lettershave been translated into roughly 800 languages. Encyclopedia Britannica listsBaha’ı as the second most widespread independent religion in the world,after Christianity. While the belief system was derived from a major mono-theistic religion, Islam, the structure of the religion is unique. For example,there is no clergy and each individual (as well as the entire community) isable to explore their relationship with God through prayer, reflection andcollaborative consultation. In contrast to parishes, temples or similar


organisation structures, Baha’ı are organised around elected councils thatadminister all activities. Additionally, the international community is entirelyself-sufficient and all finances are obtained only from internal resources andmembership (Baha’ı International Community, 2002; Hatcher & Martin, 1998).

The Baha’ı experience in Israel has been characterised by long-standing andpositive relationships with local government and residents dating back overnearly 150 years when the religion’s Iranian founder, Baha’u’llah, arrived asan Ottoman prisoner and later died near Acre. When the Baha’ı arrived inIsrael (then Palestine), Baha’u’llah instructed believers that they must notseek or accept converts here, a rule which is still strictly observed todaythroughout the state (Baha’ı News, 2001). Indeed, the Baha’ı have no perma-nent and substantial Baha’ı community within Israel and the only Baha’ı pre-sence in Haifa has been limited to 800 volunteers who move to the city forshort periods only to return to their homelands at a later date.

The Baha’ı connection to Mount Carmel is partly based on the historicalnarrative surrounding the mountain and the belief of Jews and Christians thatit is the ‘Mountain of the Lord.’ For the Baha’ı, their formal connection to themountain began when the Baha’u’llah outlined a plan for the development ofa spiritual and administrative headquarters for the then new religion. Sincethe late-19th century, the Baha’u’llah vision for Mt Carmel as articulated inthe Tablet of Carmel have evolved from the building of tomb for the Bab, themartyred Baha’ı leader, to include the sprawling complex that exists today.Today’s contemporary World Centre began in earnest in 1909 with the construc-tion of a mausoleum, the Shrine of the Bab. Since then the Baha’ı have had apermanent presence on the mountain. In subsequent decades, the Baha’ı‘master builder’ and ‘guardian of the faith’, Shoghi Effendi, went on to embellishthe Shrine and began construction on the Centre’s first nine terraces. In 1953, TheShrine of the Bab expanded to include a gold dome and an adjacent garden (HaifaTourist Board, 2004; Smith, 1987) (see Figure 2). In 1932, Shoghi Effendi builtMonument Gardens near the Shrine as a burial site of key leaders and familymembers (see Figure 3). Atop the Monument Garden’s western arc, theInternational Baha’ı Archives were completed in 1957 (Bahai.org, 2005). Thearchives are a central administrative structure for the faith as it houses keytexts and other sacred artefacts associated with the faith and has become an essen-tial component of Baha’ı pilgrimage. In 1983, the Baha’ı faith completed construc-tion of its international governing body, the Universal House of Justice (Healy,2002; Holt-Forin, 1998; MacEoin, 1994; Manville, 1996; Viswanathan, 1996).

Since 1987, the World Centre has been undergoing enormous change in aneffort to improve and beautify the surrounding landscape and expand theadministration of Baha’ı institutions (Baha’ı International Community, 2002).At Mt Carmel, the expansion has included the construction of the Gardens –as well as the Centre for the Study of texts, International Teaching Centre,and expansion of the archives throughout the 1990s and culminated with thegrand opening of the terraced gardens in May of 2001 (Bahai.org, 2005).

While the World Centre has expanded, the Shrine of the Bab continues to bethe focal point. This Shrine of the Bab, is second only to the Shrine ofBaha’u’llah located in nearby Acre. Aesthetically, the terraced gardenssurround the Shrine of the Bab, in nine concentric circles and the architectural


lines are intended to direct attention to the Shrine (Baha’ı InternationalCommunity, 2002). Beyond aesthetics, the geometry of the entire site is sym-bolic. For example, 18 terraces correspond to and symbolise the first 18 disciplesof the Bab, referred to as ‘Letters of the Living’ (Baha’ı InternationalCommunity, 2002).

The overall visual effect of the terraces is quite impressive and illustrates thedistinct character of Baha’ı holy spots. Indeed, three characteristics unite Baha’ısacred places and their gardens: an attention to light, ornamental structures orstatuary, and the special attention to ‘greenery’ (Viswanathan, 1996). AsViswanathan notes, the presence of gardens differentiate Baha’ı sacred sitesfrom all others – particularly those located in Israel. Beyond geometry andaesthetics, the terraces are massive and their scale and scope dwarf adjacentstructures found on Mt Carmel. Indeed, the terraces extend nearly a kilometrefrom the base of Mt Carmel to an elevation of 225 m and span the width of themountain from the base at about 60 m to roughly 400 m at the top (Halle, 2001).

In addition to the terraces and the Shrine, the Centre complex includes:(1) The Archives; (2) Universal House of Justice; (3) The InternationalTeaching Centre; and (4) Centre for the Study of Texts. Each of the newer build-ings has been finished in white stone and designed with columns and porticosthat reflect the Greek form (see Figures 2 and 3). These buildings, althoughforming the core of the international Baha’ı headquarters, represent muchmore than an administrative centre. As the Universal House of Justice has

Figure 2 The Baha’ı GardensSource: Photo taken by author, July 2004


written, ‘[the complex] will stand as the visible seat of mighty institutionswhose purpose is no other than the spiritualization of humanity and thepreservation of justice and unity throughout the world’ (Bahai.org, 2005). Asof January 2004 there have been more than two million visitors to the terraces,which were opened in June 2001 (Baha’ı International Community, 2002;Hayoun, 2004).

Haifa, Israel’s third largest city is situated on a wide natural bay on the north-ern coast of Israel. It lies between Mount Carmel and the Mediterranean Sea. Itis home to 250,000 inhabitants, comprising five different religions, living side

Figure 3 Map of World Centre AreaSource: Modified version of Haifa Tourism board map


by side. Haifa is usually regarded as a ‘secular’ city, one fact that could explainthe harmony between members of the Baha’ı faith and the local population.Based on a review of local newspapers from the 1990s (the decade when thegardens were built), no religious or political incidents or other prominentcitizen complaints emerged involving the local population and its interactionwith the Baha’ı believers or organisation. Indeed, the practice and policy ofthe Baha’ı are to defer to local governments and avoid participating in politics.

Beyond Israeli politics, Baha’ı policies on conversion are especially sensitiveto the local context as they do not seek converts. Although, the Baha’ı do haveso-called ‘pioneers’ in other countries. Indeed, the ‘no pioneers’ policy is con-sistent with the faith’s decision not to establish a permanent community inIsrael. Instead, the Baha’ı World Centre is staffed and maintained primarilyby a few local Baha’ı residents and approximately 800 volunteers fromaround the world – as indicated earlier. In addition to avoid questions of poli-tics and religion, the success of the Baha’ı in Haifa is also related to the econ-omics of the World Centre and its overall contribution to the city’s economy.Overall, the construction projects plowed $250 million into Haifa’s economy.Beyond the economics of construction, Haifa benefits from a steady stream ofpilgrims from around the world who come to the city. Likewise, the gardenshave proven to be an attraction of interest for tourists of all faiths. The sitehas been a major asset to the municipality of Haifa.

Indeed, ‘the gardens’, as residents colloquially refer to them, are a matter ofpride for most local residents and a symbol of the city. In an attempt to attractnew visitors, images of the gardens are prominently displayed on all the HaifaTourist Board’s promotional materials, including posters, maps and pamphlets.In the case of posters for sale at the tourism information office, depictions ofthe gardens are the only city images available. The cover materials of all ofthe Tourist Board’s materials include the gardens. However depicted, thegardens are presented as a magnificent structure readily available to view,visit and tour. The Baha’ı Gardens and the German Colony form a stunningtwo kilometre-stretch, now called the Millennium Boulevard (Haifa TouristBoard, 2004).

MethodsThe study employs a mixed methodological approach that includes

participant observation, archival documents and short-informal and unstruc-tured interviews with Baha’ı volunteers, tourists and guides, as well as empiri-cal observations concerning the material landscape and the observed practicesof pilgrims and tourists. As participant observers, the authors have – atdifferent and numerous times since 2001 – participated in the tours as touristsand researchers, visited the viewing areas, and experienced the gardenssurrounding the Shrine of the Bab. Archival materials have been obtainedfrom a variety of resources including the Baha’ı, the municipality of Haifa,printed news outlets, the Internet, and other Baha’ı resources. With respect toInternet resources, the availability of pilgrim diaries has enabled access tokey data not readily available to non-Baha’ı. Additionally, the authors reporttheir empirical observations concerning the materiality of the structure – as


well as data obtained from discussions or e-mail communications with Baha’ıvolunteers, tour guides, tourists, pilgrims and scholars.

Findings: A Shared SpaceAs might be expected, access to the Baha’ı Gardens is limited, although, lim-

iting access to Holy Sites in Israel is not unusual for a variety of reasons – mostnotably security. However, the Baha’ı Gardens are readily distinguished fromthe public gardens and parks of the world’s great cities (including cities inIsrael) by their restricted access. Public viewing areas are available at the topand bottom terrace and access is limited to a single terrace. These viewingareas are accessible 9 am–5 pm. Additionally, the gardens on level 10 – sur-rounding the Shrine of the Bab – are open 9 am–12 pm daily. While the avail-ability of three public viewing sites appear to make the gardens highlyaccessible, the entry to each of the locations – while physically near oneanother – requires a 5–7 minute transit given Mount Carmel’s topographyand road network. As many tourists and residents travel by public transpor-tation, the travel time exceeds 15 minutes. For this reason, tourists tend toaccess the gardens from a single location – usually the top or the bottom.Indeed, tour buses use the top viewing location as it provides a perspectiveon the entire city of Haifa, Haifa bay and the northern part of Israel.Additionally, access to the lower terrace entrance is limited by availableparking. The general length of stay of tour buses is 5–10 minutes.

To access the public viewing areas, the visitors must pass through a large irongate and are subject to basic security measures (i.e. a handheld magnetometerand search of bags). In addition to security personnel, two or three Baha’ıvolunteers staff the locations. The public observation area is a single terracein the case of the bottom location at David Ben Gurion Avenue. At the top,visitor access is more limited. The top viewing area is located off Yefe NofStreet. Like the bottom viewing area, visitors pass through security and theentry is staffed by Baha’ı. Yet, the view and experience of the tour bus visitoris more constrained by time. For this reason, visitors on the tour bus mostoften view the terraces from the sidewalk of Yefe Nof Street atop Mt Carmeland do not proceed through the security checks or enter the gardens.

The image of the gardens is neither fully sacred nor secular. As a result thegardens are situated in an ambiguous place (or third space) where thegardens are collectively ‘owned’ by the faithful, the visitor and the municipal-ity. In the future, the ambiguity associated with ownership of and access to thegardens will expand as it has been nominated by the municipality to be aUNESCO world heritage site. In all of these cases, the image of the gardensand World Centre varies greatly. Yet, it is clear that the Mt Carmel complexis increasingly conceptualised as a ‘common’ asset at multiple scales and isbeing transformed into a tourist space with religious character.

The challenge facing the gardens, the locality and perhaps UNESCO, is tocreate a shared space and associated practices that allow travellers positionsalong Smith’s (1992) continuum or travelling in a variety of Cohen’s (1992)modes to co-exist. As the following discussion of the tour practices of theBaha’ı will demonstrate, the ‘spaces’ and ‘places’ available to the pilgrim and


the secular tourist are decidedly different. Currently, travellers from multipleexperiential modes are able to experience the site through the strategic deploy-ment of two separate spatial practices that serve to secularise the garden fortourists, the city, the state of Israel and now the world, as well as preservethe World Centre’s religious importance.

The Secular TouristThe experience of the secular tourist is a highly structured one. Indeed, the

process of accessing the formal gardens for a tour requires visitors to schedulea tour by phone for a later date. In many cases, the availability is limited as thesite is a popular destination. The reservation process requires the visitor toprovide the full names of group members. Tours are normally available inseveral languages, including English, Hebrew, Russian and Arabic. In termsof the tour itself, visitors schedule a tour of either the upper or lower terraces(not both) and are unable to view both sets of terraces on the same day. Thetours are ‘A’ to ‘B’ tours and require visitors to arrange their own transportationto the tour point of origin located above the end point. Garden tours includelimited access to the 10th terrace gardens surrounding the Shrine of the Babbut do not include shrine access. Likewise, access to the surroundingWorld Centre Complex, including the monument garden and administrativebuildings, is not permitted.

The tour begins with a required security check at a location on the peripheryof the garden at either Yefe Nof or Hatzionut Avenues for the upper or lowertour, respectively. Check-in is required prior to the scheduled tour – andidentification may be required. The visitors are directed to a staging area. Atthe scheduled time, the lead tour guide is introduced and the rules andregulations are announced. At the same time, the tour guide emphasises thatthe location is a religious place and that appropriate behavior and dress arerequired. Likewise, more specific rules concerning the gardens are discussed.Additionally, the guide’s introductory comments addressing the non-religiousnature of the garden monuments and ornaments are an important componentof the tour’s secularised narrative. Despite the statements of guides, the officialdoctrine of the Baha’ı as published by the Universal House of Justice indicates‘The beauty and magnificence of the Gardens and Terraces . . . are symbolic’(Baha’ı International Community, 2002). Likewise, even the casual observer isable to readily recognise that many features – such as the Baha’ı star at thebottom terrace – are explicitly linked to the faith system and its signs.

In addition to the secularisation of the gardens and its ornaments, the tourguides also reinforce the secularisation of site through their use of language.Two guides are responsible for the entire experience. However, only the tourleader at the front of the tour group speaks. The rear ‘guide’ moves thegroup and observes their activities. In the case of one tour in July 2004, theguide stated, ‘We [the tour guides] are not Baha’ı, I am a Jew and she is aMuslim’. The use of language further distances the ‘secular’ tour and thetour guides from the religion and the symbolism of the gardens.

Before entering the formal gardens, the tour begins with a walk down aparallel path to an area approximately one terrace below the 18th terrace.


At the viewing area, the guide provides a brief narrative on the Baha’ı, theirpresence in Israel, the importance of Mount Carmel, and their basic worldviewincluding the significance of the number 19. The tour then proceeds through thedescent. The tour briefly stops mid-tour and the tour guide details the mainten-ance requirements of the terraced gardens in terms of labour and water.

Overall, the tour narrative is one of aesthetics and engineering with onlylimited religiosity. While a polished golden plaque at the entrance explicitlydeclare the gardens are a ‘Holy Site’, the tour itself avoids this language andemphasises the materiality of garden landscape – not symbolics. This ‘avoid-ance’ of the site’s sacred nature is an effective technique – but often leavesthe tourists participating in the upper or lower terrace tour asking the tourguide very pointed questions about the faith. When visitors raise questions,the guide or guards politely refer tourists to the leaflets and pamphlets formore information. In the case of ‘tour bus’ visitors and others who viewthe gardens from the observation areas, these questions are seldom an issueas the visit focuses exclusively on the aesthetics of the gardens and the upperviewing area’s scenic view of Haifa Bay. In either the case of the vieweror the tour participant, the emphasis is on the structure – not its spiritual orreligious meaning per se.

The Religious TouristUnlike traditional vacationers, Baha’ı pilgrimage is both an obligation and

privilege of the faithful. Like Islam, Baha’ı are obligated to go on pilgrimageif the financial means exist. Like other monotheistic religions, pilgrimageplays an important role in community building and is a very personal experi-ence. In the case of the Baha’ı faith, the community-building function ofpilgrimage and its emphasis on the global community is especially important.In the diaries of pilgrims, themes of diversity and global community under-score the experience as pilgrims note the many nationalities of pilgrims theyencounter in Haifa (Healy, 2002; Holt-Fortin, 1998; Manville, 1996). In manyrespects, pilgrimage unites the faith, the disparate peoples and sharedculture of the Baha’ı. While many pilgrim practices have emerged over time,such as circumambulation, Viswanathan (1996) notes that there is no ritualassociated with Baha’ı pilgrimages. The position that no ritual exists per se isgenerally supported by MacEoin (1994).

Despite rather extensive web-literature, Baha’ı pilgrimage and knowledge ofpilgrim practices is limited. Pilgrimage field notes and diaries are often used asprimary sources and have come to be a research staple in the pilgrimage studiescommunity. Indeed, these first hand accounts enable researchers to understandthe nexus between practice and spirituality in place. In terms of formal aca-demic research, the paucity of literature is extreme considering the faith’sgrowing presence around the globe (Buck, 1996; MacEoin, 1994). What isknown of Baha’ı pilgrim practices comes primarily from the publisheddiaries (mostly web-published) of pilgrims. But, more importantly, thelimited knowledge of Baha’ı practices is a direct result of the separation oftourism and pilgrimage. Indeed, the separation of pilgrim and tourism practicein the sacred space of the gardens and broader World Centre severely limits


outsider access. This strategic separation of pilgrim activities from tourism (oreven religious travel) serves as an impediment to research on Baha’ı pilgrimageand distinguishes it from other major and minor pilgrimage sites in Israelwhere pilgrim and tourist practices share both time and space.

What is known of the Baha’ı pilgrim’s experience is that it is broader in scale,scope and performance. The pilgrim experience is differentiated from tourism,first and foremost, in spatial terms by the activity space of the Baha’ı. That is,Baha’ı have access to the entire complex, including the administrative centre,shrine and monument gardens. Additionally, the pilgrim experience includesa variety of formal pilgrimage events, including registration at the Baha’ıPilgrim House (Manville, 1996). To that end, pilgrimage is normally a formalnine-day experience, however, shorter ‘packages’ can be arranged. The eventis an officially sanctioned and organised event and is scripted by the WorldCentre staff.

Pilgrimage is based on the principles and activities outlined in the Tablet ofPilgrimage and include recitation of the Tablet of Visitation, as well as individualprayer and meditation. The Tablet of Pilgrimage includes descriptions of appro-priate prayer and activities associated with the House of the Bab and House ofthe Baha’u’llah (Fernando, 2004; Healy, 2002; Holt-Fortin, 1998).

Beyond prayers, pilgrims may also ritually circle the shrines, similar topractices of Moslems during the Hajj (Viswanathan, 1996). In addition toformal activities the pilgrim experience includes a range of formal and informalpilgrim community activities (Healy, 2002; Holt-Fortin, 1998). For this reason,the gardens are only one facet of the pilgrimage experience and only onefacet of the World Centre complex. However, it is the specific activities associ-ated with those gardens (including Shrine of the Bab) where the differencesbetween tourist and pilgrim experiences are most pronounced.

In the gardens, the pilgrim’s movement, and purpose also serve to differen-tiate the pilgrim from the tourist. On the faith’s holy days and during other pil-grimage events, the internal gates between the levels and terraces are open andmembers of the Baha’ı pilgrim community are able to ascend and descend all 19of the terraces with a focus on the 10th terrace and the prayer and meditationactivities within the Shrine of the Bab. Healy (2002) demonstrates these keydifferences as he states ‘We [pilgrims] walk up the Terraces to the Shrine,pausing at each Terrace to admire the beauty, the variety of colors andplants, to look up, to look down’.

Yet, the pilgrim experience is also somewhat similar to that of the tourist interms of the ‘holiday’ experience and an emphasis on beauty and engineeringof the site. In fact, most pilgrim diaries, including Manville, Holt-Fortin,and Healy, reference ‘free days’ or ‘open days’ where more classic touristactivities occur. During these open days, though, many pilgrims visit tangentialsites – often with World Centre guides and other pilgrims – associated with theBaha’ı history or the faith’s connectedness to Mt. Carmel. In 1998, Manville’sfree day was spent in Akko – the site of the Baha’u’llah’s imprisonment –and his trip made explicit connections between the pilgrim and tourist withmultiple statements such as ‘. . . much of the old town must be similar tohow it was when Baha’u’llh was here.’ Like Manville, Holt-Fortin spent herfree day in Akko and included a visit to Shrine of Baha’u’llah for prayer.


On 8 February, 2002, Healy’s free day was spent in the gardens of Amatu’l-BahaRuhiyyih Khanum, the greater terraced gardens and Haifa’s nearby Elijah’sCave.

Pilgrimage (even the ‘free days’) assumes a special significance for the Baha’ı.In the end, the entire event is a mystical process that combines individual andcommunal experiences. Pilgrimage evokes in the individual a spiritual responseand an opportunity for the people to reinvigorate their spirit and dedicatethemselves to God. For this reason, a great deal of time is dedicated to prayer,meditation and acts of communal spirituality at the Pilgrim House, Archivesand Universal House of Justice. For this reason, Baha’ı are what Cohen (1979)has called ‘existential tourists’; people whose tourist experiences are character-ised by the existential mode. They see their visit as a once-in-a-lifetime experi-ence. The experience of their visits will seldom have recreational, diversionaryelements, though they will feel that mentally and spiritually the trip hadrestorative effects. They will not add elements of tourism that are directlyrelated to secular Israel and to Judaism, as other types of tourists would do.

In sum, the pilgrim’s activity space and performances are readily differen-tiated from those of the tourist. Beyond the issue of pilgrimage as obligation,the pilgrim’s experience is a spiritual – even ritualistic – one based in largepart on Baha’ı writings. It is evident that the experience is – in socio-spatialterms – a highly scripted series of performances that occur throughout andacross the entire World Centre space – well beyond the activity space oftourists. Unlike tourists, pilgrims ascend and descend the terraces andengage in spiritual activities. At terrace 10, pilgrims regularly engage inritualised circumambulation of the shrine.

Who is a Pilgrim? Who is a Tourist?There is a general disconnect in the difference between pilgrimage and

tourism from the perspectives of religions, the pilgrims themselves, thetourism industry and researchers (Olsen & Timothy, 2006). The issue ofpilgrim versus tourist must be examined on two levels: first, from the perspec-tive of the religious organisations and the travellers themselves, pilgrims aregenerally not considered tourists, or they are seen as being different from tour-ists. This view suggests that pilgrims are not tourists because they travel forspiritual reasons, while tourists travel (or visit a site) for more secularreasons like curiosity or pleasure.

Second, and from the viewpoint of the industry, pilgrims are tourists(Olsen & Timothy, 2006). A tourist is not defined by his or her motivation fortravel, and herein is the problem. Just as people wanting to relax on a beach,trek through the rainforest, visit a museum or ancient ruin, or attend a sportingevent are tourists if they are away from their home regions, pilgrims are alsotourists motivated by more spiritual needs and expectations. So, a person onthe beach is a beach or SSS (sun, sea, sand) tourist. A person trekking in therainforest may be an ecotourist. Someone visiting a museum or ancient site istypically considered a heritage tourist. And, a person attending a major sport-ing event is a sport tourist. We use these categories for research purposes tounderstand experiences, motivations, impacts, etc. By the same token, a


person visiting a place for spiritual enlightenment, answers to prayers, out of areligious duty, or as a requirement for salvation, is a religious tourist. This is soby virtue of their very travelling away from home to a different destination, notby their motivation for travelling.

Yet, there is no doubt that the experience – emotionally, spiritually and, even,physically – of the pilgrim and non-spiritually motivated tourists differs greatly.As the case of the Baha’ı Gardens in Haifa demonstrates, these differing motivesare defined by the activity space of each group and embodied in their movement,the separation of the tourist and pilgrim experience at the Baha’ı Gardens isunique, as it has been designed also to avoid potential conflict with localresidents and enables the municipality to emphasise the secular and aestheticbenefits of the garden. The result of this place-based strategy at conflict avoid-ance or mitigation has been the creation of a layered collection spatial practicesthat preserve the sacred nature of the Baha’ı complex and enables the communityto yield a variety of secular benefits while preserving its sacred nature.

Based on this research, a basic typology of garden visitors can be established.The religious visitors are in the existential mode. In this mode, they are fullycommitted to an elective spiritual centre (Cohen, 1979: 190). They are Baha’ıwho see their travel as a pilgrimage and as a once-in-a-lifetime experience.The experiences of their visits are not dominated by recreational or diversion-ary elements. However, the pilgrims will derive the restorative effects of theirtrip’s inherent spirituality. The secular tourists in this research correspondpredominantly to Cohen’s (1979) recreational mode of tourism. Their trip is aform of entertainment such as the cinema, theatre or television. This kind oftourist, usually the domestic Israeli visitor, enjoys his/her trip because itrestores physical and mental powers and endows visitors with a generalsense of well being. In addition to the recreational mode, a number of visitorsmay be classified as experiential in that the gardens and the Baha’ı World Centremay provide an authentic ‘other’ experience distinct from everyday life andtheir normal social context. Indeed, the gardens themselves, their linkage toan emerging (perhaps unfamiliar) faith system, and the aesthetics of the tourlocates the experience well beyond the everyday life of many visitors. Finally,the structure of the ‘non-pilgrim’ visit (i.e. tour reservations, strict rules, etc.)limits the ability of visitors to participate in diversionary or experimentalmodes of tourism. As a result, few, if any, tourists are likely to be classifiedas ‘diversionary’ or ‘experimental’.

On the question of the site’s status as a secular or sacred site and visitors,Smith’s (1992) continuum is useful for understanding the unique practicesthat have developed in Haifa. At one end of the spectrum, near the sacredand pilgrimage extreme, are ‘pure’ pilgrims concerned only with holinessand worship; at the other extreme are ‘pure’ tourists, interested mainly in themodern tourist aspects of their visit. Yet few, if any, tourists or pilgrims aresituated at either extreme.

ConclusionsIn the case of the Baha’ı Gardens and World Centre, the sacred and secular

practices of the pilgrim and tourist are arguably more distinct than reported


in the literature at established Christian, Jewish, Hindu, Buddhist or Islamicsites. Specifically, the contemporary nature of the garden makes the case ofthe Baha’ı Gardens and their contemporary cultural and economic contextboth more distinct – but also somewhat ambiguous as the perceived bound-aries are unclear, particularly to tourists given the limited historical contextand tradition of the Baha’ı.

Haifa’s Baha’ı Gardens are an interesting example of the connection betweenpilgrimage and tourism. In contrast to other religion-based projects andinitiatives, the Baha’ı have successfully navigated the contentious politics ofreligion through the strategic social construction of the Gardens as a pseudo-secular site. This secularisation of this sacred site has been accomplished inpart by the city of Haifa’s adoption of the gardens as a city icon and primaryvehicle for the regional tourism industry. Additionally, the official Baha’ınarrative concerning the aesthetic, rather than sacred, nature of the gardenssupports the city’s tourism narrative.

Acknowledgements

The authors wish to thank D. Timothy for his thoughtful insights into earlierdrafts of this manuscript. Additionally, Jay acknowledges the support of theISU Office of International Affairs for awarding an international travel grant.

Correspondence

Any correspondence should be directed to Dr Noga Collins-Kreiner,Department of Geography and Environmental Studies, University of Haifa,Haifa 42860, Israel ([email protected]).

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