When status follows us to Makkah

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The writer is a lawyer, law professor and regular contributor to various foreign media. He is affiliate faculty at the Rutgers University Center for Security, Race and Rights. Follow him on X @faisalkutty

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Seeing the videos and images shared on social media by pilgrims during Hajj this year, I found myself reflecting not only on the beauty and spiritual power of the pilgrimage, but also on something more troubling: the growing commercialisation and stratification of what was meant to be Islam's great equaliser.

Hajj is supposed to dissolve worldly distinctions. Rich and poor, black and white, powerful and powerless, all stand before God clothed in simple garments that strip away markers of status. It is one of the most radical acts of human equality in any religious tradition. Or at least, it was meant to be.

Instead, what increasingly emerges from social media feeds are glimpses of "VIP Hajj" experiences: luxury hotel suites overlooking the Kaaba, exclusive air-conditioned tents, gourmet meals, private transport, concierge services, and premium packages costing tens of thousands of dollars. Some level of comfort is understandable, especially for the elderly or infirm. But what we are witnessing often goes beyond necessity. It reflects the same global culture of consumerism, branding and class hierarchy that dominates the rest of modern life.

I experienced this tension personally during my last Umrah (minor pilgrimage) a few years ago. As part of a Canadian tour package, I stayed in the Clock Tower complex overlooking the Haram. The accommodations were comfortable, convenient and highly organised. To be clear, I could likely have chosen a more modest package had I searched harder or planned differently. That is not the point. The point is the starkness of the differences themselves. Just minutes away from pilgrims sleeping in cramped quarters or struggling through difficult conditions were others enjoying luxury buffets, premium elevators, private shuttles and breathtaking views of the Kaaba from five-star suites. The physical proximity of these radically different experiences made the contradictions impossible to ignore.

For many Muslims from South Asia, Africa and other parts of the Global South, Hajj once symbolised the one place where worldly rank temporarily lost meaning. Farmers stood beside princes. Labourers walked alongside scholars and businessmen. The rituals reminded pilgrims that human worth was not measured by wealth, passports or social standing. Increasingly, however, the inequalities that define the outside world are making their way into sacred space itself.

The irony is hard to ignore. A pilgrimage meant to humble humanity is increasingly being reshaped by wealth and status.

This is not merely nostalgia for a simpler past. The egalitarian spirit of Hajj has long been recognised as one of Islam's most profound moral and social teachings. Malcolm X famously described how his pilgrimage transformed his understanding of race and human equality. Writing from Makkah in 1964, he marveled at seeing "people of all colors, from blue-eyed blonds to black-skinned Africans" treating one another as equals. He described eating from the same plate, sleeping on the same rug, and praying to the same God alongside people who, in America, would have been separated by race and privilege.

What Malcolm X encountered was not perfection, but a powerful disruption of worldly hierarchies.

Prophet Muhammad (peace be upon him) himself preached this ethos in his Farewell Sermon, declaring that no Arab has superiority over a non-Arab, nor a white person over a black person, except through righteousness and good character. Hajj embodied that principle. The ihram garments were meant to erase distinctions of class, nationality, profession and prestige. Kings and labourers walked the same paths. Wealth was supposed to lose its social currency in the face of divine accountability.

Yet today, the pilgrimage increasingly mirrors the inequalities of the world outside it.

Social media has amplified this transformation. Pilgrimage has become, at times, a curated digital experience. Influencers document luxury accommodations, exclusive access, designer prayer outfits and high-end travel packages. What should be an intensely spiritual act risks becoming another arena for subtle status performance. The logic of the market has entered even sacred space.

Saudi Arabia's modernisation and expansion of Hajj infrastructure has undoubtedly improved logistics and safety for millions. Managing one of the largest annual human gatherings on earth is no small feat. But there is a difference between facilitating pilgrimage and commodifying it. When economic tiers increasingly determine proximity, comfort, convenience and exclusivity, difficult moral questions arise about whether the spirit of Hajj is being diluted.

This trend also reflects a broader crisis facing many religious traditions in the age of global capitalism: the transformation of spirituality into consumption. Faith experiences become products. Pilgrimage becomes industry. Sacred journeys become luxury markets. In societies already struggling with widening economic inequality, conspicuous displays of "premium spirituality" risk deepening resentment and undermining the moral universality religion is supposed to cultivate.

And yet, despite all this, something extraordinary still survives in Hajj.

Beneath the commercialisation, beyond the VIP lounges and luxury packages, millions still stand on Arafah in tears, stripped emotionally and spiritually before God. Ordinary pilgrims still save for decades to make the journey. People still encounter humility, repentance, solidarity and transformation. The sacred persists despite the market forces pressing in around it.

Perhaps that is the enduring miracle of Hajj: that even in an age obsessed with wealth, branding and status, the call to equality and human humility can still break through.

But preserving that spirit requires honesty. Muslims must be willing to ask difficult questions about what modern Hajj is becoming and whether the inequalities of the world are slowly colonising one of the few spaces meant to transcend them.