Egypt’s first-ever net zero mosque blends spirituality and ecology
When Pi, the protagonist of the Oscar-winning film Life of Pi (2012), first felt drawn to Islam, it was not through a lecture or a book on the faith, but rather, it was by observing how Muslims prayed inside a mosque.
Between the adhan (call to prayer) and the salat (prayer), there is a brief moment of liminal calm within a mosque. Worshippers are randomly scattered across an open space, some gathered in clusters with family members, others sitting in solitude, each absorbed in the recitation of Quranic verses.
The mosque is designed to breathe; with its open architecture and spacious design, it invites a sense of airiness, mirroring the unhurried stillness of the worshippers. Then, at the call to prayer, a collective shift occurs, ushering in a moment of shared spirit, where disorder gives way to order, and randomness yields to structure. Worshippers rise together—shoulder to shoulder, feet to feet — each individual contributing to a greater whole.
The indescribable beauty of Islamic prayer has not only captivated Pi but has also inspired thinkers, architects, artists, writers, and travelers around the world. Just as yoga is acknowledged for its capacity to promote environmental sustainability, Islamic prayer—and spiritual spaces like mosques—have become central to an emerging field known as spiritual ecology.
As part of a growing movement towards spiritual ecology, Sarah El Battouty, a leading Egyptian green architect and founder of ECOnsult, has spearheaded a new project: the first Net Zero mosque, demonstrating how religious spaces can be designed to minimize environmental impact. The project, set to be located in rural Egypt, reimagines construction for rural communities in warm climates.
Building the Sacred from Within
Sacred places of worship have long been viewed as separate from the material world; once one enters the sacred space, one transitions from the unspiritual realm into a space of spirituality. In these sacred spaces, we find ourselves connected to a higher order, and a higher power.
Yet, at its core, spirituality is not about isolation; it is about alignment with life and all living things, and recognizing the sacredness inherent in all living beings. For much of ancient history, ways of being were intrinsically connected to nature, and the Earth was regarded as sacred, worshipped by many faith traditions as a creation of the divine.
Just as ancient societies worshipped God in awe, they also marveled at the universe’s creation, holding it in high regard and viewing it as sacred. Spiritual ecology, in essence, is about rising above the persistent dualism that positions humans apart from nature.
In the context of Islam, many scholars and activists have emphasized the connection between the faith and environmentalism, particularly Fazlun Khalid, often regarded as “the most active Islamic environmentalist today.”
According to Khalid, the essence of Islam does not create a divide between humanity and nature; rather, it focuses on understanding humanity’s role within the larger cosmos. He argues that during the period of industrialization, religion was often reduced to mere rituals, but Islam encompasses much more than that—it is about how humans live in harmony with their environment.
Khalid’s argument is clearly reflected in the design of mosques. As Sarah El Battouty notes, mosque architecture is not solely concerned with religious rituals; it also integrates the surrounding public spaces, including the street and environment.