Preaching Islamic Revival in East Africa [1 ed.] 9781527512146, 9781527506138

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Preaching Islamic Revival in East Africa

Preaching Islamic Revival in East Africa By

Chanfi Ahmed

Preaching Islamic Revival in East Africa By Chanfi Ahmed This book first published 2018 Cambridge Scholars Publishing Lady Stephenson Library, Newcastle upon Tyne, NE6 2PA, UK British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library Copyright © 2018 by Chanfi Ahmed All rights for this book reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior permission of the copyright owner. ISBN (10): 1-5275-0613-4 ISBN (13): 978-1-5275-0613-8

For Kinaya, Soule and Ulrike Hegemann

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Introduction ................................................................................................. 1 Chapter One ............................................................................................... 16 The Missions of Conversion to Islam, or Da‫ޏ‬wa: The Meaning of a Concept Chapter Two .............................................................................................. 24 The Islamization of East Africa during the Period of European Penetration: An Overview Chapter Three ............................................................................................ 36 Former Institutions and Agents of Islamic Conversion and Da‫ޏ‬wa: The Snjf૖ ৫uruq Chapter Four .............................................................................................. 67 New Institutions and Agents of Islamic Conversion and Da‫ޏ‬wa: Islamic NGOs and Muslim Institutions of Higher Education in Sub-Saharan Africa Chapter Five ............................................................................................ 132 The Role of Kiswahili in the Work of Evangelization and Islamization in East Africa Chapter Six .............................................................................................. 148 The Resurgence of Claims of the Autonomy and Islamic Identity of Mwambao, the Coastal Area of Kenya Conclusion ............................................................................................... 182 Bibliography ............................................................................................ 189

INTRODUCTION

This book deals with the new conversions to fundamentalist Islam in the multi-religious societies of East Africa. It is based on field research consisting essentially of my observations, interviews, consultation of public records and other private written material (books and pamphlets from the local Islamic literature), audio and video cassettes of sermons and lectures of the well-known preachers of the region, and copies of Friday sermons given by imƗms in East Africa. Though Islam has been established in East Africa since the 8th or 9th century, it had been confined for a long time along the coastal area only. As for the interior of the continent (bara), it was not until the early 19th century that one could meet a few isolated individuals who had converted to Islam. These latter were people who were going back and forth between the bara and the coast (Pwani) for commercial business.1 From 1840 and especially from 1842, when Sultan Sayyid Sa‫ޏ‬૖d b. Sul৬Ɨn transferred the capital of Oman to Zanzibar, the Omani Arab traders began to penetrate the interior of the continent. Their presence there occasioned some conversions to Islam.2 These conversions, however, were somewhat accidental, as these Arab traders were not interested in converting Africans to Islam but rather in making maximum profits in their business, especially as they were ‫ޏ‬IbƗঌƯ, a minority sect in East Africa where the majority were (and still are) of the ShƗfi‫ޏ‬૖ madhhab (legal and ritual school), one of the four Sunn૖ madhƗhib (the plural of madhhab).

1

See August H. Nimtz, Islam and Politics in East Africa: The Sufi Order in Tanzania, Minneapolis, University of Minnesota Press, 1980, p. 6; Norman R. Bennet, “The Arab Impact,” in Bethwell A. Ogot and John A. Kiernan (eds.), Zamani: A Survey of East African History, Nairobi, East African Publishing House and Longmans of Kenya, 1968, p. 216. 2 See Nimtz, Islam and Politics in East Africa, p. 6; Edward A. Alpers, “The Coast and the Development of the Caravan Trade,” in Isaria N. Kimambo and Arnold J. Temu (eds.), A History of Tanzania, Nairobi, East African Publishing House, 1969, p. 56.

2

Introduction

The followers of the two most important Snjf૖ brotherhoods of the region, the QƗdiriyya and the ShƗdhiliyya, were the only Muslims on the coast to have reached the interior of the continent, in the last half of the 19th century, with the intention of converting people first to Islam and then to their respective Snjf૖ brotherhoods (৬uruq, sing. ৬ar૖qa).3 But these ৬uruq did not really have a specific method of conversion, or well-drawn plans or material means appropriate to their mission. During the same period, Christian missionaries also arrived in the interior of East Africa, but, unlike the ৬uruq, they were well equipped in terms of knowledge, methods and material resources. The two religions (Islam and Christianity), introduced to the interior of the continent by these missionaries, brought also to the people, especially the leaders and their entourages, a kind of openness to the modern world, at least in prompting them to learn to write and to read, a skill which the leaders of the region would use to correspond with the outside world. The new “Islamic missions,” which were trying to imitate the Christian missions, within the framework of what I call the “Red Cross complex,”4 began to be active within the continent only from the late 1980s. These “Islamic missions” have been based on Islamic fundamentalist doctrines: either the Salafiyya-WahhƗbiyya, the ৡaতwa – the doctrine of the Muslim Brotherhood (IkhwƗn al-Muslimnjn) – or the ShƯ‫ޏ‬a ideology of Khomeini’s revolution. If we know how many conflicts these “Islamic missions” cause 3

See Nimtz, Islam and Politics in East Africa, pp. 57–86; Armand Abel, Les musulmans noirs du Maniema (Correspondance d’Orient, no. 2), Bruxelles, Publications du Centre pour l’Étude des Problèmes du Monde Musulman Contemporain, 1959; Bradford G. Martin, Muslim Brotherhoods in NineteenthCentury Africa, Cambridge, Cambridge University Press, 1976, particularly chap. 6: “The Qadiri and Shadhili Brotherhoods in East Africa, 1880–1910,” pp. 152–176; Bradford G. Martin, “Muslim Resistance to Colonial Rule: Shaykh Uways b. Muhammad al-Barawi and the Qadiriya Brotherhood in East Africa,” Journal of African History, vol. 10, 1969, pp. 471–486; Abel, Les musulmans noirs du Maniema. 4 By “Red Cross complex,” I mean the fascination (in its ambivalent meaning of love and detestation) that Muslims have vis-à-vis the Red Cross. Indeed, they take advantage of the services of this Catholic foundation when they are in need, while accusing it, at the same time, of taking advantage of its position to convert Muslims to Christianity. In addition, the Red Cross is also accused of being a nest of agents at the service of the hegemonic policy of the Western powers. It is therefore necessary for Muslims, if not to have organizations like the Red Cross, at least to learn from its methods.

Preaching Islamic Revival in East Africa

3

among Muslims themselves, and between Muslims and non-Muslims, we will understand the anger of their opponents among both Muslims and non-Muslims. While relying on the historical experience of the Christian and “Islamic missions,” the following study aims to account for the way in which the “Islamic missions” have been working in the hinterland and in the interior of East Africa. The study wants to show how these “Islamic missions,” while vigorously opposing the Christian missions, imitate them, just as they have been partly inspired by the Western culture that they see, nonetheless, as a danger to Islam and Muslims. I do not want to position the opinions contained in this book in relation to the now well-known controversy raised by Robin Horton and his main opponent J. Humphrey Fisher5 – the controversy named by Horton as “African conversion” to world religions (Weltreligionen in the Weberian sense): namely Judaism, Buddhism, and particularly Christianity and Islam. Nevertheless, it would be intellectually dishonest to speak of conversion in Africa without mentioning this debate and without taking a certain amount of inspiration from it. Let us quickly summarize the terms of the debate raised by Horton. Horton argued that Christianity and Islam, when they first came to Africa, did not produce in the Africans who converted to these two world religions a radical change in their cosmology and in all their traditional beliefs. Even without their contact with these two world religions, traditional African religions would, in all cases, have left their “spiritual microcosm” to enter the “spiritual macrocosm” emerging from the global change that was occurring at that time (global change today called “globalization”), including the colonial enterprise. It was, somehow, in the zeitgeist, “in the air anyway,” as Horton writes.6 Beliefs of the world religions were accepted by Africans when they were consistent with the responses that traditional African cosmology could give to the modern situation that had just appeared. They were not accepted as a result of the efforts of the missionaries. Islam and 5

Robin Horton, “African Conversion,” Africa, vol. 51, no. 2, 1971, pp. 85–108; Robin Horton, “On the Rationality of Conversion,” part I, Africa, vol. 45, no. 3, 1975, pp. 219–235; Robin Horton, “On the Rationality of Conversion,” part II, Africa, vol. 45, no. 3, 1975, pp. 373–399; Humphrey J. Fisher, “Conversion Reconsidered: Some Historical Aspects of Religious Conversion in Black Africa,” Africa, vol. 43, no. 1, 1973, pp. 27–40; Humphrey J. Fisher, “The Juggernaut’s Apologia: Conversion to Islam in Black Africa,” Africa, vol. 55, no. 2, 1985, pp. 153–173. 6 Robin Horton, “African Conversion,” p. 104.

4

Introduction

Christianity were the stimulators of a change that would have occurred in any case, according to Horton. If we follow Horton, the African conversion was a reconversion. Horton’s theory had many supporters, as well as suffering a lot of criticism. Still, this theory of African conversion has at least two important merits. First, it revises the Weberian idea which viewed traditional religions as non-rational by giving them what Robert W. Hefner called “the ecological appreciation of their logic.” Second, it presents Africans as actors playing a prominent role in their conversion to the world religions and not as passive consumers or victims, as is unfortunately to be observed in many studies. So, this idea of considering the Africans not as passive victims, undergoing the influence of missionaries from elsewhere, has personally guided me in my research on the new conversions to Islam in East Africa. Indeed, we have to bear in mind that the ‫ޏ‬ulamƗ‫ގ‬-missionaries of Islam discussed in this book are, in their majority, people from the ethnic groups of the up-country who, having completed their Islamic studies in universities in Arab countries or Pakistan, returned to their regions to convert local people to fundamentalist Islam. Opposing the “intellectualist” thesis of Horton which defends the strength and continuity of the traditional African cosmology, J. Humphrey Fisher argued that the world religions, Islam in particular (because it was the religion on which he was a specialist), introduced a new cosmology. For him, Islam in Africa, which he described as a juggernaut, spread by the examples, the symbols and the teachings it had drawn out of Africa, namely from the rest of the Umma. For our study on conversions to Islam in East Africa today, the reality is to be found between the “intellectualist” thesis of Horton and the deterministic thesis of rupture defended by H. Fisher. This requires, among other things, accepting, for example, that the two world religions (Christianity and Islam) have developed differently in Africa. While in the past Islam was considered more adapted to African traditions than Christianity, which had been viewed as a Western religion, today the opposite trend occurs. Christianity has been undergoing a kind of “Africanization” while Islam, with all its reformist versions (IkhwƗn alMuslimnjn, Salafism, etc.), has been undergoing a kind of “Arabization.” We hear about “Christian African theology” and “African churches” but we do not hear anything like that concerning Islam in Africa. Apart from showing concretely how Islam (especially the SalafiyyaWahhƗbiyya version) spreads today in East Africa, at both the microcosmic

Preaching Islamic Revival in East Africa

5

(locality) and the macrocosmic (nation-state) level, this book is intended to support the following thesis. The renewed activity of conversion to Islam (especially its SalafiyyaWahhƗbiyya version) in East Africa is not only the result of external factors (such as da‫ޏ‬wa conducted by institutions from the Gulf supported by petrodollars), it is also and above all the product of internal factors such as: x The desire of many young Salafiyya-WahhƗbiyya ‫ޏ‬ulamƗ‫( ގ‬most of them from modest backgrounds) to take their revenge on the traditional SnjfƯ ‫ޏ‬ulamƗ‫( ގ‬most of them from local important families); x The feeling (justified or not) among East African Muslims of having been marginalized and relegated to a position of secondclass citizens in their own country; x The renewed conversion activities led by evangelists, particularly those of Pentecostal churches. All these factors pushed young Salafiyya-WahhƗbiyya ‫ޏ‬ulamƗ‫ ގ‬to use the local tradition of malumbano/mashindano (competition) for da‫ޏ‬wa. One piece of evidence that shows that internal factors are more important here than external factors is the fact that after the terrorist attacks in the US of 9/11 and the subsequent suspension of money transfers from the Gulf countries to East Africa, the Salafiyya-WahhƗbiyya da‫ޏ‬wa activities in East Africa continued as before: local donors for da‫ޏ‬wa appeared and associations and other local institutions of da‫ޏ‬wa began to come up with internal fundraising activities. The primacy of internal over external factors is also evident in activities of conversion to Islam in the past led by SnjfƯ brotherhoods (৬uruq). Let us remember, again, that the Muslims of Kenya and Tanzania complain of being excluded in the spheres of decision-making by their fellow Christians because they are less educated than them. It is true that Christians were already educated in the schools of Catholic and Protestant missionaries while Muslims avoided sending their children to these schools out of a fear that the missionaries would convert them to Christianity. In fact, the Christian missionaries, who had the monopoly on the education system before independence, accepted, theoretically, all children in their schools. However, only parents who were Christians or those who were not but did not mind that their children might become Christians, sent their children to the mission schools. And indeed, these

6

Introduction

children became Christians through the mission school. Many Muslims, who feared, rightly or wrongly, that their children might become Christians, refused to send them to mission schools. There were certainly some Muslim parents who did send their children to mission schools and who were able to ensure that they received a modern education without converting to Christianity. But this kind of Muslim parent with strong confidence was in the minority. And since there were not modern confessional schools for Muslims, Muslims have been left behind in terms of modern education compared with their fellow Christians. When the newly independent states of Kenya and Tanzania established secular schools open to all children regardless of their parents’ religion, Christians already had a long head start in the field of education, compared with Muslims. Moreover, Muslims accused the governments in place, led by Christians, of implementing (with the help of Christian churches and the former colonial power) a policy of marginalization of Muslims in the school system and training institutions.7 Whether these statements are true or not is secondary. What is important to note is that we always hear these statements from Muslims. This frustration, well founded or not, helps the spread of da‫ޏ‬wa. Overall, we can say that there are two main endogenous motivations for the new waves of Islamic conversion activities which we see today in East Africa (Kenya and Tanzania): a political or politico-religious motivation and a purely religious motivation. Both motivations are mixed and provide all political adventurers, missionaries and fanatic Muslims from inside and outside East Africa a fertile ground on which they can conduct their activities. The two following factors contribute equally to da‫ޏ‬wa: first, the proximity of the two holy cities of Islam (Mecca and Medina) and Arabia in general; and second, the presence of Arab and Indian Muslim communities in the region for many centuries – communities that continually move back and forth between the shores of the Indian Ocean and the Red Sea, bringing with them new ideas and material objects. Another aspect this book seeks to demonstrate is the differences that may exist between the conversion model of the Snjf૖ brotherhoods and that of 7

See, among others, Mohamed Said, Islamic Movement and Christian Hegemony. The Rise of Muslim Militancy in Tanzania 1970–2000, Dar es Salaam, 1998 (unpublished manuscript).

Preaching Islamic Revival in East Africa

7

the Salafiyya-WahhƗbiyya, in relation to the different conceptions each model has of authority and the legitimacy of this authority, and in relation to the conception each group has of the affiliation and belonging to the group in which the individual is integrated after his convertion. In light of the various conversion biographies recounted in this book, one could, indeed, make the following remarks. The majority of people who have converted to a ৬ar૖qa did so by family tradition: you are born from parents of ShƗdhiliyya or QƗdiriyya, for example, so you are disciple (mur૖d) of the same ৬ar૖qa, or you become again a disciple if you had neglected it for a while. This is a religious affiliation or a conversion following the logic of family tradition. Having joined the ৬ar૖qa, the disciple bends himself to the authority of the shaykh, who is everything for the disciple: his teacher of Islamic knowledge, his spiritual guide, his advisor in private affairs, etc. On the other hand, the majority of those who convert to SalafiyyaWahhƗbiyya Islam (always, in the case of the biographies reported in this book) have not done so by family tradition, but in acting precisely against the family tradition. Indeed, they did not follow the tradition of their parents, which was also the tradition of the ‫ޏ‬ulamƗ‫ ގ‬who had taught them in their madƗris (sing. madrasa) on the coast before they went to study in the Gulf or Pakistan. The Salafiyya-WahhƗbiyya people say that their conversion is motivated by the desire to conform only to the authority of the fundamental texts of Islam (the Qur‫ގ‬Ɨn and the ণad૖th) and not to any human authority as do the followers of the Snjf૖ brotherhoods, who follow their guides. However, if we look closely at these Salafiyya-WahhƗbiyya in their social environment, as I did, it becomes clear that the authority represented by their shaykh (the guide also known as their Am૖r, their ustƗdh or “master”, and various other names) is not too different to that of the Snjf૖ shaykh vis-à-vis his disciples. In both categories, we have an authority representing a center around which disciples act. This book consists of six chapters. The first deals with the genealogy and the different meanings of the concept of da‫ޏ‬wa (lit. call, invitation to Islam). Da‫ޏ‬wa is the most widely used concept in Islam to refer to conversion activity and the “Islamic mission” toward Muslims and nonMuslims whom the Muslim missionary (dƗ‫ޏ‬૖) wants to convert to the version of Islam that he believes the only true and valid one. There are, of course, other terms also used for the same activity, for example tabl૖gh (lit. transmission of a message), a term used by Sh૖‫ޏ‬a IthnƗ ‫ޏ‬ashar૖ in East Africa and the JamƗ‫ޏ‬at al-TablƯgh movement (Tabl૖gh JamƗ‫ޏ‬Ɨt)

8

Introduction

everywhere. But the fact remains that it is the term da‫ޏ‬wa which is the most commonly used. If we want to stick to the meaning of da‫ޏ‬wa, we will understand, for example, that traditionally the method of “Islamic mission” is to call people to come and listen to the message, while the method of the “Christian mission” would be to go to the people to bring them the message. But we know that it does not happen in this way in reality. Muslim missionaries imitate many methods of Christian missionaries, and these latter, in some places, have also in turn been inspired by Islamic methods that have already proved their efficiency. The theme of mutual borrowing, intended or not, is, moreover, one of the things that this book reveals, especially where the discussion is of the Muslim Bible Scholars (or Muslim preachers/Wahubiri wa kislamu). Concerning the genealogy of da‫ޏ‬wa, as a concept denoting Islamic missionary activity it stemmed from the Sh૖‫ޏ‬a IsmƗ‫ޏ‬૖l૖ of the 10th century. Although Muslims claim that making da‫ޏ‬wa was always an obligation, the ideological meaning given to this concept today, especially among Sunni Muslims, finds its origin in the Salafism of 19th century, the best-known promoters of which were JamƗl al-D૖n al-AfghƗn૖ (1839–97), Muতammad ‫ޏ‬Abdu (1849–1905) and Rash૖d RiঌƗ (1865–1935). For them, the aim was not only to convert non-Muslims to Islam but, above all, to call (da‫ޏ‬wa) Muslims to return to the force and the “purity” of the early days of Islam, in order to become able to counter European colonial hegemony. Rash૖d RiঌƗ, who, among other things, was trying in his journal al-ManƗr to counter the activities of Christian missionaries, created in Cairo in 1912 the Ma‫ޏ‬had al-da‫ޏ‬wa wa al-IrshƗd (Institute of Da‫ޏ‬wa and Religious Guidance),8 which would train missionaries of Islam. There was, by such a leader of the Islamic reformism (IৢlƗত), an obvious borrowing from Christian missions. Rash૖d RiঌƗ was very familiar with the Christian missionaries and their activities, in al-Qalamnjn, his native village in Syria, where he used to meet them, and when went to Egypt, where he continued to interact with them through his journal al-ManƗr.9 The name “al-da‫ޏ‬wa wa al-IrshƗd” would later refer to several institutions involved in spreading Islam. In Saudi Arabia, for example, the name of the Ministry of Islamic Affairs is the “WizƗra al-Shu‫ގ‬njn al-IslƗmiyya wa -l8

See Hash૖b al-SamarrƗ‫ގ‬૖, Rash߼d Ri‫ڲ‬Ɨ al-Mufassir, Baghdad, DƗr ar-RisƗla li-a৬৬ibƗ‫ޏ‬a, 1397/1977, p. 309. 9 See Umar Ryad, “RashƯd RiঌƗ and a Danish Missionary: Alfred Nielsen (d. 1963) and three FatwƗs from Al-ManƗr,” in IslamoChristiana, vol. 28, 2002, pp. 87–107.

Preaching Islamic Revival in East Africa

9

AwqƗf wa al-Da‫ޏ‬wa wa al-IrshƗd” (Ministry of Islamic Affairs, Pious Foundations, Da‫ޏ‬wa and Religious Guidance). In many Islamic universities of the world, Faculties of Da‫ޏ‬wa and Foundations of Islamic Religion (Kuliyya al-da‫ޏ‬wa wa uৢnjl al-d૖n) were created. The WahhƗbiyya, the supporters of the Egyptian Muslim Brotherhood (IkhwƗn al-Muslimnjn) and other Islamic movements, have also seized on the concept of da‫ޏ‬wa as their leitmotif to make their propaganda. The same could be said of the term generally used today by Muslims to refer to the new convert to Islam. In Islam, there is not, strictly speaking, a single fixed term to name a convert to Islam. To say that someone has converted to Islam, the classical Arabic Islamic texts use the formulas “Dakhala al-IslƗm” (lit. he entered to Islam) or “I‫ޏ‬tanaqa al-IslƗm” (lit. he embraced Islam, he gave a hug to Islam). Only today does modern Arabic use the term “muhtadin” (lit. one who has followed the correct spiritual or moral path after long lost) to designate one who has converted to Islam. But again, as we can see, the meaning is biased, partisan and non-neutral, because it suggests that we are only saved and well guided if we converted to Islam. The second chapter examines the Islamization of East Africa during the European colonization of the region. Although Islam has been implanted in East Africa since between the 8th and 9th centuries, it has long been confined to the coast and neighboring islands. It was not until the 19th century that it began to spread into the hinterland under the combined effect of the following four factors: 1. The establishment of the Oman’s Sultanate in Zanzibar in 1840 and the intense trade activities within the continent which resulted from that.10 2. The Snjf૖ ৬uruq emerged in the region during this period, and its members went further into the continental interior to convert people to both Islam and to their Snjf૖ brotherhoods. 3. Conversion activities of Christian missionaries led Muslims to engage more, by reaction, in Islamization activity. 4. The colonial administration, which, in recruiting to their administrative system of the hinterland Swahili Muslims who could read and write, and Swahili military and askari from Sudan, unwittingly contributing to the Islamization of the up-country. 10 See, among others, W. D. Cooley, “The Geography of Nyassi,” Journal of the Royal Geographical Society, vol. 15, 1845, p. 207.

10

Introduction

These soldiers and government employees, while performing their duties, converted people to Islam at the same time. Thus, the Islamization of the up-country was a “step-by-step conversion” favored by social interactions, without having a strategy or a push for Islamization set in advance by a political or any social group. This shows us how the meeting of different factors and the force of circumstances can create a powerful historical event which we did not think about before. The third chapter deals with the conversion activities carried out by the Snjf૖ ৬uruq in the up-country, especially those of the two most important ৬uruq in the region, the QƗdiriyya and the ShƗdhiliyya. For if it is true that the individuals and groups engaged in conversion activities in the upcountry of East Africa today are predominantly from the SalafiyyaWahhƗbiyya movement, it has not always been so. This is a phenomenon that only began in the mid-1980s. Until that time, and since the 19th century, Islam had been spread in the hinterland and in the up-country mostly by members and supporters of the two Snjf૖ brotherhoods mentioned above. In this chapter, I show concretely what were the ways and means of dissemination of these ৬uruq, and the various modalities of the process of conversion to Islam through these Snjf૖ brotherhoods. In the same vein, the adhesion modalities (or reconversion) to ৬uruq are presented here through the biographies of some followers of these ৬uruq. In the two SnjfƯ brotherhoods, similarities predominate over differences. For example, in each of these ৬uruq we see the two main methods of conversion specific to Snjf૖ brotherhoods: conversion or reconversion through the rite of passage of bay‫ޏ‬a (oath of allegiance to the ৬ar૖qa and to the shaykh); and conversion by tradition and by family affiliation. These Snjf૖ brotherhoods are not dead today – quite the contrary: they are showing a kind of revival motivated primarily by the desire to resist their Salafiyya-WahhƗbiyya opponents. The ৬uruq and the Salafiyya-WahhƗbiyya groups share, curiously, certain patterns of conversion. One of these, for example, is the requirement for a disciple of the Snjf૖ ৬uruq to recognize the guide (Khal૖fa, shaykh) as the central authority to which he owes obedience. In Salafiyya-WahhƗbiyya circles, even if it is taught that the true mu৬awwi‫( ޏ‬lit. obedient to Allah only) must only comply with the prescriptions of the Qur‫ގ‬Ɨn and the ণad૖th, the fact remains that he is, at the same time, obedient (mu৬awwi‫)ޏ‬ to what the guide of the group recommends to do or not to do. In this sense, the authority of the Salafiyya-WahhƗbiyya guide, whatever name he

Preaching Islamic Revival in East Africa

11

may have (Am૖r, ustƗdh, etc.) , is not very different to that of the Snjf૖ guide. In the last three chapters, we are in the heart of the matter of this book. Here we are concerned, essentially, with a configuration of Islamic conversion in which the actors are the “converter” or missionary of Islam (dƗ‫ޏ‬૖) and the converted, where this latter may be: 1. A person who has never belonged to any religion before converting to Islam. 2. Someone who has abandoned his religion to convert to Islam, someone who has therefore changed his religion. 3. Someone who has “reconverted” to his traditional religion, after having abandoned it or neglected it or followed it in a passive way.11 This latter is often at the forefront in Islamic fundamentalist activities like those of the ৡaতwa al-IslƗmiyya (Islamic revival) movement, and even those of Islamic terrorists. The other actor in this configuration of the Islamic conversion is the “Christian converter” or Christian missionary. This actor is represented in East Africa today by the missionaries of the Pentecostal churches, by far the most aggressive among Christian missionaries in the region. They are, therefore, the primary Christian opponents to the Muslim missionary in what we may call the “marketplace of religious conversions” in East Africa. Two factors then complete the configuration of Islamic conversion: the discourse of Islamic conversion and the sociopolitical environment, both national and transnational. In Chapter 4 (“New institutions and Agents of the Islamic Conversion and Da‫ޏ‬wa: Islamic NGOs and Muslim Institutions of Higher Education in Sub-Saharan Africa”), after having explained the regional and international political context, I deal mainly with the issue of foundations and Islamic international non-governmental organizations (NGOs) which, though having their head offices in the Gulf and Pakistan, also have offices in East Africa that are very active in the “Islamic mission” (da‫ޏ‬wa). This is the case, for example, with the African Muslim Agency, a Kuwaiti Islamic NGO inspired by the Muslim Brotherhood of Kuwait. This NGO, with 11

My typology of “the converted” is inspired by that of Danièle Hervieu-Léger in her book Le pèlerin et le converti. La religion en mouvement, Paris, Flammarion, 1999, p. 120.

12

Introduction

headquarters in Kuwait, is the only Arab or Islamic NGO whose activities are focused only in Sub-Saharan Africa. Those who work in the offices of this NGO in Africa are mainly Moroccans and Sudanese (citizens of two Arab countries considered more familiar with Sub-Saharan Africa), together with locals who have studied in Arab countries. The agency runs bilingual (Arabic-French or Arabic-English) primary and secondary schools in both West Africa and East Africa. In the latter region, it ran, in addition, the College of Education in Zanzibar and a faculty of Islamic law in Thika, near Nairobi (Kenya). In 2010 this latter become the Umma University (JƗmi‫ޏ‬at al-Umma), with three faculties (Faculty of Islamic Studies, Faculty of Shar૖‫ޏ‬a and Faculty of Economic Studies). The African Muslim Agency built clinics and public water wells and, of course, mosques on the coast and in the up-country. Another Arab and Islamic NGO which was very active in East Africa was the al-ণaramayn Foundation, of Salafiyya-WahhƗbiyya inspiration, whose headquartered was in Riyadh (Saudi Arabia). After the terrorist attacks of 9/11 in the United States the offices of al-ণaramayn in East Africa (and elsewhere in the world, especially in Saudi Arabia itself) were closed. This was because al-ণaramayn (or al-ণaramain) was suspected by US authorities of having links with Islamic terrorists. Al-ণaramayn realized the same “development” projects in its Islamic mission activities as those of the African Muslim Agency. The only difference was that the transmission of knowledge in the educational institutions of al-ণaramayn took place only in Arabic. In addition, the religious knowledge which was taught was based primarily on the Salafiyya-WahhƗbiyya doctrine. The accusation made against al-ণaramayn according to which it had relations with the Islamist terrorists of 11 September 2001 and its dissolution which followed, raised a debate in Saudi Arabia about the responsibility of Salafiyya-WahhƗbiyya religious education, that of the Muslim Brotherhood and its ideology, and in general that of the ৡaতwa alIslƗmiyya movement for the religious radicalization of Muslim youth, especially in Saudi Arabia. I discuss here the terms of this debate in relation to al-ণaramayn, and in relation to the commitment of young Islamists in the Afghan war against the Soviet army and the negative effects of this dirty war. Besides these two Arab institutions of Islamic mission, there was also a Pakistani NGO with the same objective as the two but inspired by the ideology of MawdnjdƯ: this was the Islamic Foundation. This institution, whose headquarters were in England, had two offices in Sub-Saharan Africa: one in Lagos (Nigeria) and another in Nairobi (Kenya). The office

Preaching Islamic Revival in East Africa

13

of the Islamic Foundation in Kenya realized similar da‫ޏ‬wa projects to those of al-ণaramayn and the African Muslim Agency, notably with regard to Islamic religious teaching. For example, it opened the Islamic Institute of Kisauni in Mombasa, which in 2002 became Kisauni Islamic University. What was especially remarkable here was the relationship that these three institutions had between them in East Africa (as institutions), since they helped each other in carrying out their projects. The relationships maintained between the individuals who were working in these three NGO were also remarkable. For, though proceeding from different Islamic doctrines and ideologies, these three institutions shared certain common objectives. The worldviews and the doctrinal differences between the individuals who were working in these NGOs and foundations were not all that different. Furthermore, people who shared the same doctrine and the same Islamic ideology did not necessarily work in the same Islamic NGOs, but often in different NGOs. Also, we should not understand that Africans submitted passively to the policies of these transnational Islamic NGOs – quite the contrary. Often, they instrumentalized them for personal and collective interests, or involved them in their internal political struggles. They succeeded particularly because African Islamist activists were very well familiar with the mechanisms of these institutions, their staff and their working language. We should not forget that they were trained in Arab countries and Pakistan, and some of them had, for a time, themselves worked in the administration of the NGOs. The education, conversion discourse and training itineraries of some Islamist activists of the region are also a theme in this chapter. Therefore, the chapter deals with these three main themes and the interconnections between them: 1. The itineraries of imƗms-missionaries, starting from their villages up-country, where they had begun their primary religious education before going to pursue religious studies in the Gulf countries and Pakistan, first passing through Islamic schools and institutes of the coast (Lamu, Mambrui, Mombasa and Kisauni in Kenya; Tanga, Dar es Salaam and Zanzibar in Tanzania). After their return, they taught in schools and Islamic institutes on the coast, or worked in transnational Islamic NGOs on the coast and in the capitals

14

Introduction

(Nairobi or Dar es Salaam), before going to establish themselves in the up-country as teachers and imƗms- missionaries. 2. Analysis of the preaching of these missionaries, including the sermons given by imƗms during Friday prayers. 3. The local social environment, characterized by the kind of relationship that Muslims of different versions of Islam have with each other, on the one hand, and with Christians and other nonMuslims, on the other. Normally these relationships have been managed by the Muslim association of the city or locality. The Muslim association has its headquarters in the offices of the main mosque, where the imƗm is part of the leadership of the association. In the larger cities of the up-country (Nakuru, Kisumu and Mumias in Kenya; Korogwe, Lushoto and Moshi in Tanzania) and also in those of the coast (Mombasa and Lamu in Kenya; Tanga and Dar es Salaam in Tanzania), where I conducted my fieldwork, I always encountered a conflict tearing the Muslim community: a conflict between Sunn૖ and Sh૖‫ޏ‬a, or between Salafiyya-WahhƗbiyya and other Sunn૖. This kind of conflict was primarily doctrinal. The other kind of conflict tearing the Sunn૖ themselves concerned the leadership, management and funds of the Muslim association. In these conflicts, ethnic divisions played a very important role. Chapter 5 (“The Role of Kiswahili in the Work of Evangelization and Islamization in East Africa”) is essentially about the following two themes: the use of Kiswahili by the first Christian missionaries in their work of evangelization and the translation of the Bible and some chapters of the Qur ରƗn; and the translation of the Qur ରƗn into Kiswahili by Muslims in order to spread Islam in the interior of the region. This work was initiated by the Ahmadiyya and then later continued by Shaykh ‫ޏ‬Abdallah ৡƗliত al-Farisi. In each of these moments of the translation of the Qur ରƗn for the propagation of Islam (da‫ޏ‬wa), I present the controversies opposing the actors at the time and the arguments of each side. In Chapter 6 (“The Resurgence of Claims of the Autonomy and Islamic Identity of Mwombao, the coastal area of Kenya”), I present the preaching of Shaykh Abdillahi Nasser, a religious and political actor in Mombasa, very active at the time of the accession of Kenya to its independence. Abdillahi Nasser and his supporters were demanding the autonomy of Mwambao, the coastal region of Kenya, not the independence of Kenya. The importance of this preaching lies also in the fact that in the identity and political claims of Muslims in the coastal region of Kenya today and

Preaching Islamic Revival in East Africa

15

their complaints of marginalization, the issue of the autonomy of Mwambao often resurfaces. Another reason for its importance is the figure of the author of the preaching, Shaykh Abdillahi Nasser, himself – a wellknown politician and ‫ޏ‬Ɨlim in Kenya. He was Sunni like most Kenyan Muslims, but later converted to ShƯ‫ޏ‬a IthnƗ ‫ޏ‬asharƯ. At the end of the chapter, I talk about the kind of relationship I had with leaders of some institutions of Kenyan Muslims in Mombasa. Except in some cases, my relations with the Muslim communities in which I conducted my research were not bad. People were initially very reserved, even full of suspicion of me. They wondered (and some said that clearly to me) if I was not a CIA spy. They were reassured when they saw me living with them, talking to them in their language (Kiswahili), discussing Islam with ‫ޏ‬ulamƗ‫ ގ‬in mosques before and after the congregational prayers (ৢalƗwƗt al-jamƗ‫ޏ‬a). I was with the community almost daily. They subsequently started to appreciate my presence among them, and even more so when they knew that I was a Mngazija (from the island of Ngazija/Grande Comore). This was probably the result of the history of Islam in the region, during which the majority of specialists in the religion (‫ޏ‬ulamƗ‫ )ގ‬originated from ণadramaut or from Grande Comore. I therefore tried to analyze my ambiguous situation as a researcher on Islam in East Africa, in the period after September 11, 2001, during which Muslims of the region were under suspicion from their fellow Christians and under police harassment. My situation was in fact somewhat ambiguous and not easy to decipher for my interlocutors. Being a Muslim from the Comoros, I shared with them the Swahili culture and in addition, while I was a researcher, I was also an ‫ޏ‬Ɨlim or scholar of Islam.

CHAPTER ONE THE MISSIONS OF CONVERSION TO ISLAM, OR DA‫ޏ‬WA: THE MEANING OF A CONCEPT

We can consider the activities of institutions of da‫ޏ‬wa to be missionary activities, even though in Islam there is much less of a tradition of mission than in Christianity. Conversion and proselytizing activities are equally well known in Islam as in Christianity. There are, however, some differences in this field between Islam and Christianity. For example, in Islam the formula used to describe the activities of conversion is da‫ޏ‬wa and not mission.1 In other words, if we stick to the literal meaning of ‘invitation’ or ‘call’, in Islam the preacher does not go to the people he wants to convert, but rather calls them to him, whereas in Christianity, the preacher goes to the people he wants to convert and preaches the Gospel. The zeal to win converts stems from, among other things, the early days of Christianity. According to the tradition, the last injunction of Christ to his disciples before his ascension was: “Go, teach all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit. Teach them to obey everything I have commanded you. And lo, I am with you always, until the end of the world” (Matthew xxviii, 19–20). To say that someone has converted to Islam, the Arabic language uses the phrases “Dakhala al-IslƗm” (lit. he entered to Islam) or “I‫ޏ‬tanaqa al-IslƗm” (lit. he gave a hug to Islam, he embraced Islam). In East Africa, they say “Amesilimu” (lit. in Kiswahili: he Islamized himself or he became Muslim).

1

Among the few studies done on the propagation of Islam in East Africa where the term “Islamic mission” is used to identify it, it is worth mentioning Armand Abel, Les Musulmans noirs du Maniema, pp. 20–21 (Maniema or Manyema is located in southeastern Congo).

The Missions of Conversion to Islam, or Da‫ޏ‬wa

17

Moreover, in Islam, there is no specific term to name someone converted to the religion. Modern Arabic uses the term “muhtadin” (which literally means, in reality, the person who has followed the correct spiritual or moral path after being lost for a long time). However, while the literal meaning is different, what is meant is the same. In fact, the term da‫ޏ‬wa which Muslims use today to describe missionary activities stems from the Sh૖‫ޏ‬a IsmƗ‫ޏ‬૖l૖, more exactly from Abnj ‫ޏ‬Abdallah al-Sh૖‫ޏ‬૖ (d. 911), who left the East in the 10th century to go and carry out propaganda (mission) in Maghreb. This would lead to the establishment of the Fatimid Caliphate, whose first khal૖fa was ‫ޏ‬Ubaydillah al-Mahd૖ (d. 934). In the Sunni tradition, on the other hand, Muslims should first conquer a territory and only then start a campaign among the conquered people in order to convert them to Islam. Those who did not want to convert to Islam could continue to practice their religion as dhimmi (protected) with payment of a tax called jizya, and in return, those in power (Muslims) would ensure peace and security for the dhimmi people. But all this is according to classical Islamic studies. Practice, but also the texts used by Sunni Muslims today in their conversion activities, are not conditioned to the conquest of territory. Although, nowadays, Muslims evoke Qur‫ގ‬anic verses and তad૖ths to support the view that doing da‫ޏ‬wa was and still is an obligation, the whole ideology around the concept of da‫ޏ‬wa today dates from the Salafism of the 19th century, the best-known promoters of which were Muতammad ‫ޏ‬Abdu, JamƗl al-D૖n al-AfghƗn૖, ‫ޏ‬Abd al-RaতmƗn al-KawƗkib૖ and Rash૖d RiঌƗ. For these latter, in fact, the aim of doing da‫ޏ‬wa was not, first and foremost, to convert non-Muslims to Islam, but rather a call for Muslims to return to the force and “purity” of the early days of their religion in order to become able to cope with the hegemony of Europe, which was embarking on an enterprise of conquest of the Muslim world (and other non-Muslim worlds), by armed force, by its scientific discoveries and by its Christian missions. Their idea was, therefore, to say that if the Muslims, once conquerors and rulers, were now conquered and dominated, it was because they had abandoned the Islamic values of the Salaf aৢ-ৢƗliত (pious predecessors) – hence the word “Salaf૖” (or “Salafiyya”) is used to describe this movement. According to Islamic tradition, the pious predecessors in question are the generation of Muslims who were alongside Prophet Muতammad and the three generations that succeeded them. Therefore, we can say that the rediscovery of the concept of da‫ޏ‬wa

18

Chapter One

by the Salafism of the end of 19th century was an internal conversion, (kind of reconversion of the converted, and not an external one, i.e. the conversion of non-Muslims to Islam. But over time, the term “da‫ޏ‬wa” would come to mean all activities of internal and external conversion. Subsequently, the methods that da‫ޏ‬wa would adopt would resemble those of Christian missions. That was why, while being the first opponents of da‫ޏ‬wa, Christian missions represented at the same time a model of method and strategy that da‫ޏ‬wa imitated in order to spreading the message. Newspapers and magazines later carried the name “da‫ޏ‬wa.”2 Rash૖d RiঌƗ, who among others things tried in his journal al-ManƗr to counter the activities of Christian missionaries, created in 1912 the Jam‫ޏ‬iyyat al-da‫ޏ‬wa wa al-IrshƗd (Institute of Da‫ޏ‬wa and Religious Guidance).3 The Institute would engage in Islamic mission activity and train missionaries of Islam. The idea came to him from what he saw among the Christian missionaries who were in al-Qalamnjn, his native village, and in Tripoli, the closest city to al-Qalamnjn. The Institute ceased to operate following the outbreak of the First World War and was unable to resume its activities after the end of the war. But RiঌƗ pursued da‫ޏ‬wa in various forms. The term “al-da‫ޏ‬wat wa al-irshƗd”, probably invented by RiঌƗ and with which he named his Institute, would later be used by many to designate several Islamic institutions aiming to spread Islam. In Saudi Arabia, for example, the name of the Ministry of Islamic Affairs was “WizƗra al-Shu‫ގ‬njn al-IslƗmiyya wa al-AwqƗf wa al-da‫ޏ‬wa wa al-irshƗd” (Ministry of Islamic Affairs, Waqf, Da‫ޏ‬wa and Religious Guidance). In many Islamic universities, faculties of da‫ޏ‬wa and foundations of Islam (Kuliyya al-da‫ޏ‬wa wa uৢnjl al-d૖n) were created, and many Islamic organizations created special committees of da‫ޏ‬wa. The word “da‫ޏ‬wa” is so central among Muslims today that the true Muslim is the one who is doing da‫ޏ‬wa. The well-known group Tabl૖gh JamƗ‫ޏ‬Ɨt (JamƗ‫ޏ‬at al-TablƯgh) employs, instead of “da‫ޏ‬wa,” the word “tabl૖gh (lit. transmission, and by extension transmission of the Islamic message). However, even though today members of Tabl૖gh JamƗ‫ޏ‬Ɨt practice also external conversion, the original purpose of its creation was the internal conversion of the Muslims of the Indian subcontinent (the region where Tabl૖gh JamƗ‫ޏ‬Ɨt first emerged) in 2

See, for example, the weekly Majallat al-daҵwa, a journal created in 1951 by the Egyptian Muslim Brothers. 3 See al-SamrrƗ‫ގ‬૖, Rash߼d Ri‫ڲ‬Ɨ al-Mufassir, p. 309.

The Missions of Conversion to Islam, or Da‫ޏ‬wa

19

order to make them resistant to the conversion activities of Christian missions as well as of Hindu religious groups like Arya Samaj. In East Africa, the Bilal Muslim Mission (a Sh૖‫ޏ‬a IthnƗ ‫ޏ‬ashar૖ group) also used the term “tabl૖gh” instead of “da‫ޏ‬wa,” but ultimately the meaning remains the same. There are many Qur‫ގ‬anic verses that Muslims use as scriptural evidence of the obligation of da‫ޏ‬wa, but two verses seem to be the most quoted. They are: 1. “Invite people with wisdom and good teaching, to follow the path of your God and argue with them in the best courteous way.”4 This verse establishes, therefore, the ethics of da‫ޏ‬wa, the attitude which the Muslim should have when he performs the “duty” of da‫ޏ‬wa. 2. “It is not an obligation for all the believers to go all together to a battle. Why some men from each faction do not go to learn the religion in order to teach their people when they return to them? So they can guard themselves against evil.”5 This verse seems to describe one of the main methods of Islam in its mission activities. If we follow the literal meaning of the verse, a few obvious things also follow. First, the emphasis is on learning of Islamic knowledge, then, the missionaries should be (preferably) from the group they want to convert. In addition, they have to leave their group for a while, in search of Islamic knowledge, and only then return to convert the members of the group in question to Islam through the transmission of the Islamic knowledge acquired. The meaning of the second verse reminds us both of the system of riwƗq (students of the same origin living in a community and sharing the same house) which formerly prevailed in the Islamic University of al-Azhar in Cairo, and of the system of bi‫ޏ‬tha (pl. bu‫ޏ‬njth or bi‫ޏ‬thƗt; mission of students), initiated in Egypt by Muতammad ‫ޏ‬Al૖ Pasha. In the case of arwiqa (pl. of riwƗq), it was the foreign students who were brought together, once in al-Azhar, depending on the country or locality from which they came. The bi‫ޏ‬tha were the students groups that the Egyptian government of Muতammad ‫ޏ‬Al૖ and those of his successors sent to Europe for training (in universities and other training institutions), as part of their policy of modernization through the acquisition of European scientific knowledge. Today, in al-Azhar, the word “arwiqa” is no longer used. It is 4 5

16, al-Naতl, 125. 9, al-Tawba, 122.

20

Chapter One

precisely replaced by bu‫ޏ‬njth (missions). Today, the dormitory for foreign students in al-Azhar is just called “Mad૖na al-bu‫ޏ‬njth al-islƗmiyya” (Islamic city for Islamic missions). The first and second cycle of the secondary institute of al-Azhar where foreign students spend their graduation years of high school before entering university, is called Ma‫ޏ‬had al-bu‫ޏ‬njth al-IslƗmiyya. In other words, what is in question in this second verse is the idea of young people leaving their societies to go to learn elsewhere, and then to come back in order to convert the members of their society to what they think is the “right religion.” The idea expressed by this verse is well illustrated by the Islamic University of Medina (Saudi Arabia), where it is the slogan written on the main entrance of the campus. The al-Azhar University, the office of the fatwas of Saudi Arabia (DƗr aliftƗ‫)ގ‬, the Muslim World League (RƗbi৬at al-‫ޏ‬Ɨlam al-IslƗm૖) – each of these institutions give the name of mab‫ޏ‬njthnjn (missionaries; sing. mab‫ޏ‬njth) to the people whom they formally appoint and send to foreign countries to conduct da‫ޏ‬wa. However, in everyday life, people call them du‫ޏ‬Ɨt (missionaries; sing. dƗ‫ޏ‬૖ or dƗ‫ޏ‬iya). Indian Sh૖‫ޏ‬a Khoja IthnƗ ‫ޏ‬ashar૖ (Twelver Sh૖‫ޏ‬a) in East Africa continue, on the other hand, until today to call du‫ޏ‬Ɨt the mullahs sent to the region by the Central Khoja Sh૖‫ޏ‬a IthnƗ ‫ޏ‬ashar૖, which is located in Mumbai (Bombay) in India, or by the centre of all Sh૖‫ޏ‬a IthnƗ ‫ޏ‬ashar૖, which is in Najaf (Iraq). Therefore, from these various meanings which the concepts of mission and of da‫ޏ‬wa have follow conversion practices and methods that necessarily differ between the two religions (Christianity and Islam), that have not remained static but have been dynamic in particular in imitating and inspiring each other. Highlighting this dynamic of imitation and influence, conscious or not, between the activities of Christian conversion and those of Islamic conversion is also something that is at the heart of this book. So, we can not say today that there are pure Islamic practices of conversion on one hand, and pure Christian practices of conversion on the other. Another difference – that is not theoretical but reflects what I encountered on the ground – is that while in Christianity (especially among Pentecostal American churches, the most active in East Africa in the field of proselytism) conversion through preaching (emotional conversion) is

The Missions of Conversion to Islam, or Da‫ޏ‬wa

21

paramount, it is secondary in Islam and among Muslims. In Islam, two types of conversion are paramount: conversion through social interactions and conversion through transmission of religious knowledge. It is also to be noted that in their work of conversion in the region today, the new Muslim missionaries start first by converting long-standing Muslims (but from traditional Islam), before converting Christians and followers of traditional African religions. This is also true of the new Christian missionaries, such as Pentecostals: they begin first by converting long-standing Christians (Lutheran, Anglican or Catholic), before converting Muslims and followers of traditional African religions. However, despite the intense work of da‫ޏ‬wa carried out in the up-country by supporters of various fundamentalist versions of Islam (the most active groups in the field of Muslim conversion), I noticed that in general, the inhabitants of the up-country are still reluctant to be bound to a single religion, preferring to navigate between multiple religious denominations. This led me to ask the question: why is it that, in East Africa, inhabitants of the up-country navigate easily and repeatedly from one religion to another? With reference to my personal observation, I can respond by advancing the following possible reasons. 1. Islamized or not, Christianized or not, inhabitants of the upcountry, in general, are first attached to their clan, to their ethnic group and its traditional beliefs. The religion of the book has not yet succeeded in replacing the bonds of the original traditional community with those of the new confessional community. In other words, the new religion (whether Islam or Christianity) is not yet cemented and hence has not become the preferred tradition of reference. 2. There is an absence of a long tradition of the religions of the book. 3. The intense competitive work between different religious groups and different religious missions (Christian and Islamic) in the upcountry means that people are very much solicited by the propaganda of various contrasting missions;6 6

This kind of intense competition did not exist in the coastal areas that had been Islamized a long time ago, at least until recently. Now, the competitive work in this area has even reached the coast, as evidenced by the profusion of open-air preaching (mihadhara) and the transposition of malumbano in this field. Malumbano (Kiswahili): interrogation, discussion. From lumbana (v.): to examine, speak publicly, relate, narrate facts; and mlumbadji: interrogator, questioner, speaker. The malumbano are closer to mashindano or ushindani (Kiswahili):

22

Chapter One

4. To convert to the religions of the book is also, for people from the up-country, to convert to modernity, which also means for the converted the opening up of new horizons of life improvement. The learning of reading and writing is the first door to this life improvement. Therefore, inhabitants of the up-country could consider their successive conversions as an accumulative method of self improvement. 5. The conversion to Islam, or rather the penetration of the ArabSwahili people in the up-country, before European missionaries had, paradoxically, promoted the work of Christian missionaries. In this regard, Alexander Mackay said: “Where the Arab has travelled the missionary may go any day, where the Arab has not ventured, the missionary must exercise the greatest caution in trying to go.”7 This means that after they were reached by Islam, the people of the up-country were soon also solicited by Christian missionaries, primarily those affiliated to the three major churches, Catholic, Anglican and Lutheran, and then later on reached by other Protestant churches, most of them American, such as Pentecostal churches. 6. Another interesting point revealing two different methods of conversion emerges from statements of the first Christian missionaries saying that, in the interior of the continent, the Arab Muslims were not interested in converting the natives to Islam but rather in maximizing profits in their business. To the extent when they were interested in the conversion of the natives, it was to convert chiefs who would facilitate trade with them, or when the converted was a slave who would take care of cooking and slaughtering animals. This perception of Christian missionaries was not completely wrong, especially as Omani Arabs who traded in the up-country were ‫ޏ‬IbƗঌ૖, not Sunni like the majority of African Muslims in the region. This difference had resulted in two different modes of conversion – conversion by Christian missionaries, done by professionals, very fast and offensive, and conversion by Arab emulation, rivalry, competition, match, fight. This is a very Swahili cultural practice, which, in my opinion, also plays an important role in competitive action in the field of conversions in the region. There is also the fact that many Christian missions today are conducting intense missionary activities on the coast: the large church recently built at the entrance to the city of Mombasa demonstrates that. 7 See Mackay, Mackay by his Sister, p. 421, cited by Arye Oded, Islam in Uganda. Islamization through a Centralized State in Pre-Colonial Africa, New York, John Wiley and Sons, 1974, p. 225.

The Missions of Conversion to Islam, or Da‫ޏ‬wa

23

Muslims, carried out by non-professionals. The latter was a slow and step-by-step conversion, done almost by chance. It was, however, no less effective, since it was embedded in the body, while the Christian’s conversion remained long only in the mind. Therefore, it was true that compared with inhabitants of the coast, those of the up-country were still reluctant to settle permanently on one religion. Nonetheless, the general impression was that in the up-country Islam, especially its radical and fundamentalist Salafiyya-WahhƗbiyya version, was gaining ground. However, in this up-country, until the early 1980s, Islam was spread by some imƗms of Snjf૖ ৬ar૖qa, like QƗdiriyya and ShƗdhiliyya-Yashru৬iyya, who came to settle there. From the mid-1980s, Salafiyya-WahhƗbiyya Muslims (the Tabl૖gh૖ and Sh૖‫ޏ‬a to a lesser extent) were becoming the main driver of conversions to Islam. I observed this, and my interviewees (whether missionaries of the fundamentalist version of Islam in question or their opponents) confirmed it for me every time. This led me to try to find out the reasons for the success of SalafiyyaWahhƗbiyya da‫ޏ‬wa in the up-country. There were many reasons, but I would like to mention the following. 1. The level of organization in the network of Islamic international NGOs for aid and da‫ޏ‬wa which were working in these remote areas; 2. The fact that those who represented these institutions and who led the da‫ޏ‬wa came from the same regions of the up-country; 3. The situation of the “conversions market” and of highly competitive work in which Christian and Islamic missions operate; 4. The material support which the institutions of da‫ޏ‬wa provide to the people they want to convert; 5. The situation of the Muslims as a minority who believe (rightly or wrongly) themselves to be treated unfairly by their fellow majority Christian citizens.

CHAPTER TWO THE ISLAMIZATION OF EAST AFRICA DURING THE PERIOD OF EUROPEAN PENETRATION: AN OVERVIEW

“Step-by-Step Islamization” on the Coast Islam was established in East Africa between the 8th and 9th centuries by merchant immigrants from the Arabian Peninsula. But this Islam was restricted, for long time, to the coastal areas and especially the neighboring islands (Zanzibar, Pemba, Comoros, Kilwa, Pate, Lamu, etc.). Islam spread through the social interaction of individuals, step by step, without a strategy or intended Islamization set in advance by any political or social group. Indigenous polical authorities converted (often nominally) to Islam because of the attractiveness of different aspects introduced by the new religion, and their “subjects” were converted in turn by “contagion” and imitation of their leaders. Anyway, there is no exact information on how this religion spread at the time. It was not until the 19th century that Islam really began to spread in the up-country, and the reasons for this phenomenon during this period were various.1 This second phase of Islamization was achieved mainly through the following factors: (1) the establishment of the Omani Sultanate in Zanzibar in 1840 and the trade within the continent which followed;2 (2)

1

See, among others, Nimtz, Islam and Politics in East Africa., pp. 54–86; Bradford G. Martin, Muslim Brotherhoods in Nineteenth-Century Africa, pp. 152– 176; John Spencer Trimingham, Islam in East Africa, Oxford, Clarendon Press, 1964; Arye Oded, Islam in Uganda, Jerusalem, Israel Universities Press, 1974; Arye Oded, Islam and Politics in Kenya, London, Lynne Rienner Publishers, 2000; See also the colonial archives of the three countries (Uganda, Kenya and Tanzania). 2 See W. D. Cooley, “The Geography of Nyassi,” », Journal of the Royal Geographical Society 15 (1845), pp. 185–235, p. 207; J. Macqueen, “Notes on

Islamization of East Africa during the Period of European Penetration

25

the SnjfƯ ৬uruq that emerged in the region during this period; (3) Christian missions, including the two most important at that time (the Church Missionary Society or CMS,3 affiliated to the Anglican Church, and the White Fathers Mission or WFM, a French Catholic mission4), and the feeling of Muslims that, as their faith was being attacked and competed with, they were obliged to meet the challenge and, therefore, spread Islam further; and (4) colonial administration. The Islamization in the up-country was hence not a result of the so-called “pacification” (as Trimingham suggested5) brought by colonization allowing the expansion of Islam, but simply because the colonizers, by recruiting, in their administrative system, Swahili people who could write, and Swahili soldiers and Sudanese Askari, unwittingly contributed to the religion’s spread. For these Muslims, while performing their work as servants of the colonial service, they carried out, occasionally, the work of conversion to Islam. European colonization had also incited some ethnic groups of the interior to convert to Islam, probably as a form of resistance and a way to find refuge. Such was the case, for example, for the Ngoni, as Nimtz correctly pointed out.6 Edward A. Alpers supported the same view when he wrote that the conversion of ethnic groups of the interior near the Kilwa region (such as Ngindo, Mwera, Machinga, Ndonde and Makonde) was due on the one hand to their relationships with Swahili, and on the other hand to the crises that their societies were going through following the imposition

African Geography,” Journal of the Royal Geographical Society, vol. 15, 1845, pp. 371–374. 3 J. K. Krapf of CMS was the first missionary of the mission to arrive in East Africa, in 1844. Two years later, J. Rebmann came to assist him. They began to evangelize first in Mombasa and then in inland Kenya. Regarding Uganda, the missionaries of the CMS started their missionary activities after the approval given by King Mutesa I at the Rugaba palace to the delegation of CMS, June 30, 1877; see Ado J. Tiberondwa, Missionary Teachers as Agents of Colonialism. A Study of their Activities in Uganda, 1877–1925, Kampala, Fountain Publishers Ltd., 1998 (1st edition 1978), pp. 16–17; and Trimingham, Islam in East Africa, p. 26. 4 After the new pope, Leo XIII, had in February 1878 commissioned the White Fathers Mission to evangelize East and Central Africa, a delegation of the mission led by Father Lourdel arrived in Entebbe (Uganda) in February 17, 1879, and in June of the same year they established their headquarters in Rubaga; see R. Scott and H. B. Thomas, Uganda, London, Oxford University Press, 1935, p. 18 ; E. B. Haddon and H. B. Thomas, “Early Christian Activities in Northern Uganda,” Uganda Journal, vol. 32, no. 2, 1968, p. 220. 5 See Trimingham, Islam in East Africa, p. 58. 6 See Nimtz, Islam and Politics in East Africa., p. 66.

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of colonial rule and especially following their participation in the MajiMaji rebellion of 1905–07 against the German colonial power.7 Regarding the conversion of the Yao to Islam, Alpers added two other factors, namely, the involvement of the Yao in commercial activities on the coast of Kilwa and Mozambique in the 19th century and the emergence of a new generation of chiefs among the Yao to the east of Lake Nyasa. These chiefs were using the social and religious institutions, including cultural and religious ceremonies (initiation and rites of passage, funeral ceremonies, etc.) as a vehicle for Islamization.8 It should be noted that these were young chiefs and young people, who were the first to embrace Islam. Another vehicle of Islamization mentioned by Alpers was the attraction that learning to read and write in Arabic and Kiswahili, which took place through Qur‫ގ‬anic teaching, exercised over the people of Nyasaland. On the role of walimu (scholars of religion and Islamic magic) as agents of the Islamization of the Yao and their teaching as a vehicle for Islamization, Alpers reports the testimony of Canon Lambrun on the appearance of one of these walimu, whom he called “the wandering itinerant Muslim preacher.” These walimu, who became scribes and teachers for the Yao chiefs, also accompanied the caravans of these chiefs and there fulfilled the same functions. Alpers described how these walimu settled in these regions: “They would appear to have been more or less resident in the towns themselves, attached to the courts of the great chiefs, where their functions were well defined and their means of support were no doubt provided by the chiefs themselves.”9 Alpers mentioned also some impressions that Bishop Edward Steere of the Anglican Universities’ Mission to Central Africa (UMCA) had when, at the head of a delegation from his church in 1875, he visited the Yao chief Mataka I Nyambi in his hometown of Mwembe (Livingstone had visited the same person in 1866). Bishop Edward Steere found that “the coast people baptize them (the Yao) by dipping in a river, give them Arab names, charge them not to drink palm wine, nor to eat pork or the meat of any animal not slaughtered with the invocation of God’s name, teach them an Arabic formula or two, fix 7

See Edward A. Alpers, “Towards a History of the Expansion of Islam in East Africa: The Matrilineal Peoples of the Southern Interior,” in David S. Bone (ed.), Malawi’s Muslims: Historical Perspectives, Blantyre, CLAIM (Christian Literature Association in Malawi), 2000, p. 42. (This article by Edward A. Alpers was first published in The Historical Study of African Religion, London, Heinemann, 1972). 8 See also Edward A. Alpers, “Trade, State, and Society among the Yao in the Nineteeth Century,” Journal of African History, vol. 10, no. 3, 1969, pp. 405–420. 9 Edward A. Alpers, “Towards a History of the Expansion of Islam,” p. 51.

Islamization of East Africa during the Period of European Penetration

27

them in the professed belief of only one God, and leave them with all their old charms and superstitions.”10 To summarize with regard to the process of Islamization of the Yao (and maybe also of other ethnic groups such as the Nyamwezi) from the 1890s, it should be noted that there was a body of various agents and external factors, such as traders and their business in the interior of the continent; the walimu and their function as scribes and teachers of Islam, teachers of reading and writing in the courts of Yao chiefs, and itinerant preachers outside; and European colonization and its various impacts. In terms of agents and internal factors, we must especially mention the following two points: (1) the first converts were the chiefs, the majority of whom were young men, and who thus encouraged, in various ways and with all the energies of young men, their subjects to convert also; (2) the other young people who had been on the coast and had returned to “Yaoland” taught others what they had learned of Islam, or others simply imitated them.

The Role of the Omani Sultanate of Zanzibar in the Spread of Islam in the Hinterland and the Up-Country Omanis had extended their supremacy throughout the coast, from Mogadishu to Cape Delgado, putting under their power the Mazrui of Mombasa and Mwinyi Mkuu of Zanzibar (Muতammad b. Aতmad b. M. b. ণasan al-‫ޏ‬AlawƯ from the তaঌramƯ sƗda). Omani traders therefore commenced intense trading activities in the interior, from where they brought slaves, gold, ivory, spices, copal, gum, etc., in exchange for weapons, clothing and other manufactured goods that they delivered to African chiefs. They set up new ports on the coast (Bagamoyo, Pangani and Sadani) that would become the starting points for expeditions that led them to places like Tabora, where they established relay stations and warehouses. From Tabora, they also created two diverging roads, one which led to the regions of Ujiji and beyond Lake Tanganyika (to Congo and Rwanda-Urundi) and another which led to Karagwe (west of Lake Victoria) and to the kingdoms of Bunyoro and Buganda to the north of Lake Victoria. In Ujiji and Karagwe they also established warehouses and 10

Cited in Edward A. Alpers, “Towards a History of the Expansion of Islam,” p. 44 – information which Alpers in turn took from R. M. Heanley, A Memoire of Edward Steere. D. D., L. L. D., Third Missionary Bishop in Central Africa, London, 1889, pp. 152, pp. 318–319.

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relay points. In the Congo, they could enlist a large part of the Manyema population as carriers and guides, a role played already by Yao and Nyamwezi. Around Lake Nyasa, in the south, the relay points and warehouses of the Omani Arabs were in Kilwa and its region. The Omani Arabs did not attempt to convert the natives to Islam. What interested them was, above all, their business. African chiefs, for their part, were not interested in converting to Islam. They wanted the manufactured products brought by the Omanis (first and foremost firearms) and the taxes (mahongo, sing. hongo11) they imposed on the Omanis’ caravans. As long as the Omanis did not interfere in the affairs of the natives, the relationship remained in good shape and business prospered. Some of these African chiefs converted (often nominally) on their own initiative, to please the Arabs in the hope of maximizing the profits from trade with them. They could also convert because of the fascination they had with the medium of writing, introduced by the Arabs and which African chiefs wanted to learn in order to communicate better with them and thereby improve their trading profits. They often learned the writing from Zanzibari walimu, who left the “caravans” to settle in the courts of these African chiefs as official walimu of the court. These walimu could convert close relatives of the chief, including his children. In 1848 and 1852, the missionary J. L. Krapf visited a chief in the region of Usambara (Tanganyika). He found in the court of this chief a Swahili mwalimu (sing. of walimu) who, besides the fact that he was the magician-teacher of the court, wrote the letters of the king and taught the king’s children to read and write from the Qur‫ގ‬Ɨn. The mwalimu in question, therefore, was at the same time secretary, teacher and magician to the court.12 The same occurred among the chiefs of the Ha ethnic group in Ujiji and in the court of Mutesa I (1856–84), the king of Buganda, the latter example being often mentioned by historians.13

11

See R. F. Burton, The Lake Regions of Central Africa, New York, Harper & Brothers, 1860, ii., p. 339, cited by Trimingham, Islam in East Africa, p. 24; Tippu Tip, Maisha ya Hamed Bin Muhammad El Murjebi Yaani Tippu Tip, transl. W. H. Whitely, Johari za kiswahili, no. 8, East African Literature Bureau, Kampala, Nairobi, Dar es Salaam, (1958), (1959), 1966, p. 10. 12 See J. L. Krapf, Travels, 1860, p. 373, cited by Trimingham, Islam in East Africa, p. 25. 13 See also the books of Arye Oded: Islam in Uganda; and Religion and Politics in Uganda. A Study of Islam and Judaism, Nairobi, East African Educational Publishers, 1995; A. B. K. Kasozi, The Spread of Islam in Uganda, Nairobi, Oxford University Press, 1986.

Islamization of East Africa during the Period of European Penetration

29

Swahili craftsmen14 of ShƗfi‫ޏ‬૖ madhhab and mafundi (sing. fundi15) from Zanzibar and Comoros were another class of agents of Islamization at that time. They often left the Omani caravans to settle with African chiefs. Besides exercising and transmitting their practical knowledge, they occasionally led the work of conversion to Islam. Some Africans of the interior who served the Omani as commercial agents or carriers converted to Islam after having imitated theirs manners and lifestyle for long time.16 This was the case for some Yao17 around Lake Nyasa and of some Nyamwezi18 around Lake Tanganyika and Lake Victoria. As noted, the Omanis were interested first and foremost in their very lucrative trade activities. The Islamization of the natives of the interior was for them very much secondary, especially since they were ‫ޏ‬IbƗঌ૖, and not ShƗfi‫ޏ‬૖ like the majority of Muslims of the coast. Throughout this period, the Africans who converted to Islam or Christianity often passed from one religion to another. Firmer attachment to one religion only came about after a long process. In June 2004, during field research in Moshi (Tanzania), an ‫ޏ‬Ɨlim of the city, but originally from Tanga, told me that he had observed the same phenomenon among the Wachaga (sing. Mchaga), the largest ethnic group in the surrounding region. However, it seemed that this ‫ޏ‬Ɨlim, somewhat arrogant and 14

Among them, we find ণaঌƗrima (sing. ণaঌram૖) and waNgazija (from Ngazija or Grande Comore, Comoros). 15 In Kiswahili, anyone who is expert in a field is a fundi, from the ‫ޏ‬Ɨlim (mwalimu) to the teacher in Qur‫ގ‬anic school, the carpenter and the mason. 16 See Nimtz, Islam and Politics in East Africa, p. 9; W. Hutley, Mohammedanism in Central Africa and Its Influence: A Report Written at Urambo in August 1881, London, Missionary Society Archives, file D2.4. (cited by Nimtz). 17 The Yao are an urban people, but also very mobile. They are found from at least the 19th century in the coastal regions of East Africa and neighboring Nyasaland (present-day Malawi), where they originated. The Yao are today one of the largest ethnic groups in Malawi. The vast majority of Muslims are Yao. On Yao and especially Yao Muslims in Malawi, see David S. Bone (ed.), Malawi’s Muslims: Historical Perspectives, Blantyre, Malawi, CLAIM, 2000. 18 The Nyamwezi were an ethnic group who lived around Tabora (Tanzania) and the regions between there and Lake Tanganyika; see Andrew Roberts, “The Nyamwezi,” in Andrew Roberts (ed.), Tanzania before 1900, Nairobi, East African Publishing House, 1963, pp. 125–126; Walter T. Brown, “Bagamoyo: A Historical Introduction,” in Tanzania Notes and Records, no. 71, 1970, p. 75; Sir John Gray, “Trading Expeditions from the Coast to the Lakes Tanganyika and Victoria before 1875, in Tanzania Notes and Records, no. 49, 1957, pp. 226–246; Burton, The Lake Regions of Central Africa, pp. 374–376; and Tip, “Maisha ya Hamed Bin Muhammad El Murjebi Yaani Tippu Tip,” p. 17.

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frustrated, was exaggerating in his account of the Wachaga Muslims, especially when he kept telling me that the level of Islamic faith of this ethnic group was very low (Imani yao dhaifu sana)!

Christian Missions, Swahili Muslims and the Colonization of East Africa The first Christian mission established in East Africa was that of the CMS, an Anglican mission founded in 1799 by a very active group of the Anglican Church of England.19 The pioneers of this Christian mission in East Africa were Johann Ludwig Krapf 20 and Johannes Rebmann, two Germans who, after receiving their training in the Missionary Institute of Basel (Basler Mission), were engaged in the CMS of England to evangelize the Horn of Africa and East Africa. J. L. Krapf arrived in East Africa after staying in Ethiopia from 1837 to 1842. He began to explore East Africa in 1844 and was later joined in 1846 by Johannes Rebmann. In that year, they founded their first mission in Rabai Mpia near Mombasa, among the Rabai ethnic group. The first strategic approaches they adopted were to build a friendship relationship between themselves and the Rabai chief, and to learn the language of the Rabai people. As soon as Johannes Rebmann had learned the language, he began to teach a group of boys, including children of the chief, to read and write the rudiments of the Christian religion. In 1850, Krapf left for one year in England in search of support for his mission at the headquarters of the CMS in London. He returned in 1851 to Rabai Mpia with a small group of missionaries and technicians especially in agriculture and some recommendations from Henry Venn (the secretary general of the CMS at the time) on the method of evangelization which he should follow in East Africa. Among these recommendations, we find the 19

See E. Stock, The History of the Church Missionary Society, vol. 1, London, CMS, 1899, p. 65; Kevin Ward and Brian Stanley (eds.), The Church World Christianity, 1799–1999, Cambridge, Wm. B. Eerdmans Publishing Co. and Curzon Press Ltd, 2000. 20 J. L. Krapf was also the author and publisher of the first grammar book of Swahili in Germany (Swahili-Grammatik, 1850). On Krapf and his missionary activities in Africa, see Johann Ludwig Krapf, Travels, Researches, and Missionary Labours during an Eighteen Years Residence in East Africa: Together with Journeys to Jagga, Usambara, Ukambani, Shoa, Abessinia and Khartum and a Coasting Voyage from Mombaz to Cape Delgado, London, Cass, 1968 (first published 1860).

Islamization of East Africa during the Period of European Penetration

31

advice “not to follow the ordinary method of conducting a mission, not to settle down at one place, establish schools and collect a nucleus of adherents round them, but to branch out far and wide witnessing the truth to successive tribes and countries.”21 Besides the fact that disease had ravaged much of the team of the Johann and Johannes, the slave trade and Masai attacks considerably further limited (but never stopped) their missionary project. In 1854, Krapf returned to Europe; Rebmann remained, but was forced to retreat with the rest of his mission to the Island of Mombasa. However, even if Krapf and Rebmann could not themselves fulfill the recommendations of Henry Venn, the people whom they trained and who came after them succeeded in large part in doing so. During the same period, the Scottish physician and explorer David Livingstone arrived in South Africa in 1841 to evangelize the continent on behalf of the London Missionary Society (LMS). After a few years of service in the LMS, David Livingstone returned to England for a time to mobilize elites and public opinion much more than before in favor of a major campaign of missionary work in Africa, especially in his favorite areas of Lake Nyasa and Zambezi. With his reputation as an explorer, scientist and missionary22 who wanted to “civilize” the blacks, to “save” their souls through the Christian message and also to open trade routes for England, Livingstone motivated the creation of the UMCA. In a speech to the elite of Oxford and Cambridge universities in 1857, Livingstone invited them to launch missions in Africa. In this famous speech, Livingstone spoke the no-less-famous words: “I go back to Africa to try to make an open path for commerce and Christianity. Do you carry out the work, which I have begun? I leave it with you.” The following year, 1858, the UMCA, an “Anglo-Catholic Mission,”23 was created with the objective 21

See Stock, The History of the Church Missionary Society, vol. 2, p. 131. See D. Livingstone, Missionary Travels and Researches in South Africa, New York, Harper & Brothers, 1858. 23 Parishes and “Anglo-Catholic” missions were one of the manifestations of the revival of Catholic influence in the Anglican Church in the 19th century. The movement was initiated and led by a group of people from Oxford University who resented the low esteem in which people held the Church, its representatives and the sacraments, and the general decline of faith in and the power of the Church in society. Proponents of the “Anglo-Catholic Church” argued that even if the Church of England rightly opposed the sacred authority of the Pope, it still communed with the Church of Rome. The schism actually occurred when the Pope excommunicated Queen Elizabeth I in 1570. The other argument was the one that 22

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of achieving Livingstone’s project, in which the colonial ambition was clearly related to that of evangelization, as exemplified by the abovequoted passage. The UMCA had to go to Central Africa to support the abolition of slavery (for which the Arabs and Swahili of Zanzibar were accused of being responsible), to “civilize” the Africans and convert the natives to Christianity by spreading the message of the Gospel and education. In so doing, Christian missions would manage to stop the advance of Islam to these regions. C. F. Mackenzie was named bishop (with the support of Livingstone) of the first group of the UMCA, which began its work in the area of Lake Nyasa (Malawi), eventually extending to parts of Tanzania, to today’s Zambia and part of Mozambique. This “Anglo-Catholic” mission included priests and laymen and -women graduates from the universities of Oxford, Cambridge, London, Durham, Dublin, etc. Between 1862 and 1863, most of the missionaries, including Bishop Mackenzie, died – decimated by diseases such as malaria. Bishop William Tozer, named in 1863 as the successor to Bishop Mackenzie in the directorship of the UMCA in Africa, transferred the center of the mission, shortly after his appointment, to Zanzibar, where the climate seemed to be less devastating for the missionaries. Zanzibar also represented other advantages: the island had quick and easy access to the mainland; there was strong British diplomatic representation there; it was a favorable place in which to engage in the competition with the Muslim religious (‫ޏ‬ulamƗ‫ )ގ‬for converts; and it was where the largest slave market in the region existed, the elimination of which was a major aim of the UMCA. Livingston’s business in Africa ended when he died in 1873. His body was sent to England, where he was buried on April 18, 1874, in Westminster Abbey.

Uganda In Uganda, a delegation of the missionaries of the CMS arrived on June 30, 1877, and was received by the Buganda king Kabaka Mutesa I in his palace in Rugaba. This was the direct result of an article by Henry Morton all true ecumenists advanced: When Jesus Christ was promoted to lead his followers to the truth, he spoke only to the Church of all Christians and not to different church branches. And this took place during the founding period – that is to say, before the church was separated, in 1054, into East and West. See, among others, Peter B. Nockles, The Oxford Movement in Context: Anglican High Churchmanship, 1760–1857, Bloomington, Indiana University Press, 1995.

Islamization of East Africa during the Period of European Penetration

33

Stanley published November 15, 1875, in the Daily Telegraph. In this article, Stanley, who was sent by the same newspaper to Uganda, launched an appeal to English Christians to send missionaries to Uganda, but first to King Mutesa I. In his article, he wrote among other things, the following: Oh, that some pious practical missionary would come here! … would become the savior of Africa. Nowhere is there in all the pagan world a more promising field for a mission than in Uganda. Here, gentlemen, is your opportunity. Embrace it. The people on the shores of Nyanza [Lake Victoria] call upon you.24

Just as the first travelogues of Livingstone had provoked the first missions to arrive in Central and East Africa, this call of Stanley to conquer Uganda was well received in England. The first to respond to it was the Anglican CMS, which sent, shortly afterwards, a delegation led by Alexander Mackay. Another group to also respond favorably was the French White Fathers25 (Pères blancs or Société Missionnaires d’Afrique) of Archbishop Lavigerie, which, from Algeria, also sent its first group of missionaries to Buganda after receiving the order of Pope Leo XIII. A delegation of five missionaries led by Lourdel and Amans arrived at Entebbe, February 17, 1879, and then at the palace of Rubaga in June.26 The activities of Christian missionaries in Uganda were interesting on various levels. Unlike in Tanzania and Kenya, where the missionaries did not find strong indigenous states, in Uganda, and more exactly in Buganda, the missionaries found a strong state, centralized and well organized under the reign of Kabaka Mutesa I. He was already in contact with the Arab-Swahili merchants from Zanzibar and the coast and also with Sudanese Arabs from the north (Sudan and Egypt). Historians of the 24

See Tiberondwa, Missionary Teachers, p. 16. This name comes from the fact that they wore the gandoura and white burnous. Archbishop Lavigerie advocated contact with Muslim natives. Moreover, it was almost mandatory that the missionaries should know Arabic. At the time, there was talk not of interfaith dialogue but rather of the possibility of “salvation of the infidels,” it being understood that “outside the Church there was no salvation.” Lavigerie was appointed Archbishop of Algiers in 1867. In 1868 he founded his Société des Missionnaires and in 1869 the Sœurs Missionnaires de Notre Dame d’Afrique known also as the Sœurs blanches. Lavigerie was appointed Apostolic Delegate of Western Sahara and Sudan. In 1882 he became a cardinal and primate of Africa. He died in Algiers, November 27, 1892. 26 See Scott and Thomas, Uganda, p. 18. 25

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Islamization of Uganda such as Arye Oded27 and A. B. K. Kasozi28 suggest that, through these contacts, Mutesa I had converted to Islam, but that he refused to be circumcised. But many historians doubt the sincerity of the conversion of Mutesa I to Islam. For them, Mutesa I was an opportunist, who only converted to Islam in the hope of obtaining from the Arab Muslims material support and, especially, weapons (rifles and gunpowder) in order to effectively counter the opponent kingdoms surrounding him, with whom he was in constant conflict. My view is that Mutesa I had sincerely converted. The effort he had invested in learning to read and write Arabic, and even to talk a little in this language, demonstrates this. He could have remained non-Muslim if he wanted to and still kept good relations with Arabs and Muslims, just as he had kept good relations with Christian missionaries during the first period of their arrival in the country without having to convert to Christianity. After all, he was the king and was his own master. Moreover, he was a strong personality who could refuse a request he did not like. His refusal to be circumcised is evidence of this. In fact, doubts over the sincerity of the conversion of Mutesa I to Islam seem to derive from a commonplace that many people revert to when discussing “African conversion” to Islam or Christianity. According to this commonplace, Africans of the up-country (if not Africans in general) do not truly convert to the “religions of the book” – rather, their conversion is always motivated by material interests. This is why, the commonplace view suggests, they often changes religions in their lives! It would be fair to say that generally the process of conversion of an individual is a long one: the person needs a long time to forget all or a large part of their former beliefs. This may be the reason for these recurrent changes of religion: a person may have to try several times before being able to fix on just one. And especially in the market of religious conversion in the upcountry of East Africa, Africans faced numerous different versions of the different religions, each of which solicited their conversion. Regarding Mutesa I, he simply wanted to exploit his various contacts to consolidate his power, as does any politician past and present, north and south. Mutesa I was faced with various foreign powers, each of which wanted to exploit his country for its material and spiritual interests, namely the Arab-Muslim merchants, and the Anglican and Catholic missions, followed later by the British colonizers. His position and that of his 27 28

Oded, Islam in Uganda. Kasozi, The Spread of Islam in Uganda.

Islamization of East Africa during the Period of European Penetration

35

country were highly threatened by the puzzle of triangular foreign intervention by the English, French and Arab Muslims. And subsequent events were to prove that he was right to be cautious. Indeed, Mutesa I of Buganda (and also many other Africans) could not understand why all these Europeans would travel for so long and in such hard conditions simply in order to come and save the souls of Buganda and other Africans. They must have had in mind, above all, political and economic objectives. This obsessive suspicion Mutesa I had for European missionaries had led him to forbid them to settle elsewhere in the kingdom and oblige them instead to settle near his palace at Rugaba, hoping that he could better control them that way. For the king did not want the missionaries to influence his subjects, who might as a result rise up against him. At the same time, he hoped to one day gain something from these Europeans – namely, rifles and gunpowder. But the strategy of Mutesa I proved to be pernicious. The missionaries took the opportunity, firstly by converting the people of the court, to interfere in the political affairs of the kingdom and therefore gain an influence there that would help them in their mission. To counter this danger, Mutesa I constantly spied on them, and stirred up strife between Catholic and Protestant missionaries at one level, and between the Arab-Swahili and Christian missionaries at another. The massacres and religious wars that would destroy the kingdom of Buganda after the death of Mutesa I showed that he was a strong, stabilizing factor; it was only after his death that the missionaries succeeded in deeply establishing themselves and their religion in the country.

CHAPTER THREE FORMER INSTITUTIONS AND AGENTS OF ISLAMIC CONVERSION AND DA‫ޏ‬WA: THE SNjF૖ ৫URUQ

The ShƗdhiliyya-Yashrnj৬iyya SnjfƯ Order in East Africa My approach in this chapter is, with as little interference as possible, to allow the murƯdnjn (disciples of the ৬arƯqa) to tell the reader, who is outside the ৬arƯqa, the story of their organization, and later to draw some of my own conclusions. This allows the reader to understand how the murƯdnjn recollect, construct and deconstruct their history. To do this, I primarily rely on the ManƗqib1 (hagiography) of al-Ma‫ޏ‬rnjf, the first and major propagator of the ShƗdhiliyya in East Africa, beginning on the Comoros, and on interviews I conducted with the representatives of this ৬arƯqa on the Comoros, some of whom are members of the founder’s family. As far as the expansion of the ৬arƯqa in Tanzania and on the African continent in general is concerned, apart from the little I could learn from the few written sources held in the archives at Dar es Salaam, the overwhelming part of my information comes from Shaykh NnjruddƯn Hussein, the current leader of the ৬arƯqa in Tanzania, the successor to his father Shaykh Hussein in this position. Some former pupils and disciples of Shaykh Hussein, especially Shaykh Muhamed Mwichande, who used to be the Shaykh Hussein’s assistant and secretary, and the current pupils and disciples of Shaykh NnjruddƯn, especially his assistant Said Kupela, told me a lot about the lives of the two leaders and of their own story of affiliation to the ShƗdhiliyya order. What baffled me was the way in which the murƯdnjn were conscious of belonging not only to the Umma (something present in every Muslim) but, beyond that, to an old translocal and transnational ৬arƯqa. This historical consciousness is being taught, enhanced and transmitted during the habitual “lecture,” which the representative of the ৬arƯqa in any 1

A hagiography written by one of al-Ma‫ޏ‬rnjf’s disciples.

Former Institutions and Agents of Islamic Conversion

37

place gives after the end of the dhikr ritual. Its subject matter is the feats (or manƗqib, as the murƯdnjn call them) of the founders of the ৬arƯqa and their followers. The murƯdnjn then recount these manƗqib to other people, such as their children, in the form of stories or tales. The silsila of the principal founders – that is, the chain of transmission of the ৬arƯqa – can be found in picture frames hanging on the walls of the mosques-zƗwiya of the ৬arƯqa and of the houses of the murƯdnjn. Moreover, the wa਌Ưfa ritual, which is recited every day, contains a passage in which the names of the founders of the silsila are mentioned. But the historical consciousness I have noted does not find its sole expression in this cognitive and narrative medium. Its expression is “doubled” by extra-narrative and non-verbal means: that is, body language, as used in the dhikr or haঌra rituals.2 Shaykh NnjruddƯn pointed out to me that the ties of the Tanzanian ShƗdhiliyya with those of the Middle East and the Comoros have been upheld uninterruptedly. To prove this to me, he showed me letters that the leaders of the ৬arƯqa on the Comoros and in the Middle East had written to his father and to him. He reminded me of the fact that his sister married a grandson of al-Ma‫ޏ‬rnjf on the Comoros and is still living there with her children (her husband, al-Ma‫ޏ‬rnjf’s grandson, died in the 1990s). During the ceremonies of the commemoration of the death of al-Ma‫ޏ‬rnjf in September 2002 in Dar es Salaam, people noted the presence of the shaykh of the QƗdiriyya order of Zanzibar and the grandson of Habib Saleh of Lamu, both of whom gave proof of Shaykh NnjruddƯn’s contact with the leaders of the other ৬uruq of the region. Some other examples of Shaykh NnjruddƯn’s activities, such as the establishment of the ণajj Trust in the 1990s and his appointment as chairman of the federation of the nongovernmental Islamic institutions of Tanzania, reorganized under the label Islamic Center (Markazi ya Jumia ya Taasisi za Kislamu), can be taken as illustrations of his efforts to adapt the ৬arƯqa to the evolutionary circumstances of the modern world.

The ShƗdhiliyya-Yashrnj৬iyya In general, the ৬arƯqa (literally “path” in Arabic, the path that leads to God in Sufism) is a collective, some elements of which (here: disciple = murƯd, pl. murƯdnjn3) can in turn create another collective (a ৬arƯqa) independent of the first and of its founder, even during his lifetime (a common 2

See, among others, Paul Connerton, How Societies Remember, Cambridge, Cambridge University Press, 1989, especially chapter 2, “Commemorative Ceremonies.” 3 In Comorian: muridi, pl. miridi or mamuridi.

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occurrence). This is the practical realization of the message contained in the following verse of the Qur ରƗn (as Shaykh NnjruddƯn, supreme guide of the ShƗdhiliyya-Yashrnj৬iyya, informed me): Have you not considered how Allah sets forth a parable of a good word [being] like a good tree, whose root is firm and whose branches are in heaven / yielding its fruit in every season by the permission of its Lord? / And Allah sets forth parables for men that they may be mindful. And the parable of an evil word is as an evil tree pulled up from the earth’s

surface; it has no stability.4 Without referring to the metaphor used by the shaykh to support his cause, the reality can be grasped through the spiritual chain of transmission (silsila) that contributes to the identity of each ৬arƯqa. The ৬arƯqa concerned here calls itself Yashrnj৬iyya after its founder, NnjruddƯn Aতmad al-MaghribƯ al-Yashrnj৬Ư al-ShƗdhilƯ5 al-TarshƯhƯ (b. 1793, d. AD1899/1316AH). Yashrnj৬Ư created a composite designation for his brotherhood, containing both the name of his own new brotherhood and that of the one he had been a member of since joining Sufism, i.e., the ShƗdhiliyya, named after Abnj al-ণasan ‫ޏ‬AlƯ al-ShƗdhilƯ (593– 656AH/AD1258). Several brotherhoods have been created from the ShƗdhiliyya, among them the Madaniyya, named after its founder of Medinan origin, Muতammad b. ণasan b. ণamza ਋Ɨfir al-MadanƯ (1194– 1263AH/AD1780–1847). Before he founded his own ৬arƯqa, ‫ޏ‬AlƯ al-Yashrnj৬Ư was, in fact, a murƯd of the Madaniyya order. Why did he not call the order he founded Madaniyya-Yashrnj৬iyya, or simply Yashrnj৬iyya, instead of ShƗdhiliyyaYashrnj৬iyya? We do not know. It probably has something to do with the disappointment he must have experienced after the death of his shaykh. He expected to take over as leader of the Madaniyya but was ousted by Muতammad ਋Ɨfir, one of al-MadanƯ’s children.6 It was thus foreseeable that, after having taken his revenge, or in other words having managed to establish a new ৬arƯqa of his own, he would 4

Qur ରƗn 14 (IbrƗhƯm): 24–26. In East Africa the name is spelled “al-ShƗdhulƯ”, but people say “Shadhuliya” in Kiswahili and Comorian, and “Shadhuli” in Malgache. 6 See Josef van Ess, “Die Yašrutiya,” Libanesische Miszellen, no. 6, pp. 10–11, in Die Welt des Islams, vol. 16, no. 1–4, 1975, pp. 1–103, and John Spencer Trimingham, The Sufi Orders in Islam, Oxford, Oxford University Press, 1998, p. 113. 5

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avoid all reference to his former ৬arƯqa. On the contrary, he would try to strike a bond with the common and much more prestigious origin, namely the ShƗdhiliyya.

Establishment of the ShƗdhiliyya-Yashrnjtiyya in Palestine Ali NnjruddƯn al-Yashrnj৬Ư left MiৢrƗta,7 his training ground, to proselytize first in Tunisia and later in the southern parts of the Sahara,8 before turning to the Middle East, where he finally settled and established his own ৬arƯqa. After a long journey (to Mecca and Medina to perform the তajj pilgrimage and to study; to Egypt, where the tomb of Abnj al-ণasan ‫ޏ‬AlƯ al-ShƗdhilƯ is located; to the tomb of the prophet Jonah, located between Beirut and Sidon, and to Jerusalem), he finally settled in ‫ޏ‬AkkƗ in Palestine. For health reasons, he had to leave for a while and take up residence in TarshƯfa, were he built the first zƗwiya of the Yashrnj৬iyya in 1279/1862– 63. He returned to live in ‫ޏ‬AkkƗ permanently as late as 1285/1868. On these wanderings, he always met a number of Maghribians. The one whose name history has preserved best was the Algerian emir ‫ޏ‬Abd alQƗdir (Abdelkader). This famous SnjfƯ and Algerian nationalist who was at the same time a disciple of the RaতmƗniyya order9 and of Ibn ‫ޏ‬ArabƯ, had been exiled to Damascus in 1272/1856 by the French. When ‫ޏ‬AlƯ alYashrnj৬Ư was imprisoned and exiled to the island of Rhodes by the Ottoman authorities, it was ‫ޏ‬Abd al-QƗdir whose intervention led to his liberation. Back from Rhodes, al-Yashrnj৬Ư even stayed at the emir’s home in Damascus for several days before returning to TarshƯfa and subsequently to ‫ޏ‬AkkƗ. The friendship between the two men was even to be reinforced by family ties, when ‫ޏ‬Ɩ'isha, al-Yashrnj৬Ư’s daughter, married Emir MuৢtafƗ al-JazƗ’irƯ, ‫ޏ‬Abd al-QƗdir’s brother. This relationship certainly must have influenced al-Yashrnj৬Ư, especially with regard to the pan-Islamic and anti-colonialist aspects of his message, which we rediscover with his first East African disciples, such as ‫ޏ‬Abdallah b. Sa‫ޏ‬Ưd al-DarwƯsh and Sayyid b. Aতmad b. Muতammad al-Ma‫ޏ‬rnjf, founder and propagator respectively of the ShƗdhiliyya-Yashrnj৬iyya in this region.

7

Also called Misurata, a coastal town in Tripolitania where al-MadanƯ had founded his order and built his first zƗwiya. 8 See van Ess, “Die Yašrutiya,” pp. 10–12. 9 See van Ess, “Die Yašrutiya,” p. 19.

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The Appearance of the ShƗdhiliyya-Yashrnj৬iyya in East Africa At about the time when ‫ޏ‬AlƯ al-Yashrnj৬Ư’s wanderings had finally led him to ‫ޏ‬AkkƗ, the Comorian Bin DarwƯsh left his country in search of his elder brother, who was abroad and whose family had not heard from him for several years. The traditional account of the brotherhood adds that Bin DarwƯsh was not only looking for his brother, but also the ৡƗতib al-ZamƗn (the Man of Time).10 In other words, he was also on a spiritual quest. On his long journey, he passed through Zanzibar, Mecca and Medina, Jerusalem, and finally ‫ޏ‬AkkƗ, where he found the ৡƗতib al-ZamƗn he was looking for. In fact, in one of the places he had traveled to, people told him that the ৡƗhib al-ZamƗn he aspired to meet was none other than ‫ޏ‬AlƯ alYashrnj৬Ư, who had by that time taken up residence in ‫ޏ‬AkkƗ. Bin Darwish’s zeal finally brought him to the latter, where he became a murƯd of the Yashrnj৬iyya. According to several murƯdnjn from the order in East Africa, Bin DarwƯsh spent 27 years at the zƗwiya in ‫ޏ‬AkkƗ, studying with ‫ޏ‬AlƯ NnjruddƯn alYashrnj৬Ư and serving the ৬arƯqa. Obviously, the account of this long period cannot be true in terms of rational history.11 Assuming that he arrived in ‫ޏ‬AkkƗ immediately after ‫ޏ‬AlƯ al-Yashrnj৬Ư had settled there in 1868, he would have returned to the Comoros around 1895 according to the traditional account. However, since the propagation of the Yashrnj৬iyya on the Comoros began in 1882, one can reasonably assert that Bin DarwƯsh must have returned that same year or probably even earlier. The story of Bin DarwƯsh’s return to his native country and his later disappearance to an unknown destination is related by the murƯdnjn through many legends. According to Muhammad QƗsim,12 KhalƯfa of the ShƗdhiliyya-Yashrnj৬iyya on the Comoros, Bin DarwƯsh, having realized in ‫ޏ‬AkkƗ that the Muslims of East Africa were in need of a reformatory missionary effort, appeared before his shaykh and asked him for permission to return there to carry out this mission. Muতammad QƗsim 10 Also “ৡƗhib al-Waqt,” an honorary title which many SnjfƯ brotherhoods give to their chief founders. It is approximately synonymous with the title “Qu৬b” (“the Centre”). 11 It should be mentioned that the ManƗqib do not make reference to the number of years that Bin DarwƯsh spent in ‫ޏ‬AkkƗ. However, whenever the murƯdnjn and their leaders recount the history of the ৬arƯqa, they never fail to mention it. 12 Interview, August 14, 2001, on the Comoros.

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gives a detailed account of how this happened: one day, he says, Bin DarwƯsh appeared before his shaykh, ‫ޏ‬AlƯ NnjruddƯn, and began to read out the following verse from the Qur ରƗn: “So when they came in to Ynjsuf, they said: O chief! Distress has afflicted us and our family and we have brought scant money, so give us full measure and be charitable to us; surely Allah rewards the charitable.”13 The shaykh understood what his murƯd was hinting at. He immediately gave him the mubƗya‫ޏ‬a (blessing) as KhalƯfa of the order in East Africa, enjoining him neither to accept as a murƯd nor to appoint as a KhalƯfa anyone who might not be worthy of it.14 Muতammad QƗsim continues his account: Even where he was, Bin DarwƯsh, by the mercy of God, knew that calamities were growing in his native land and in the whole region: the quarrels among the rulers of Ngazidja [Grande Comore], the closure of the region’s societies within archaic institutions and habits, the beginning of European colonialism, the famine, epidemics like plague and cholera and the massive flight of Comorians to neighbouring countries, especially to Zanzibar, where people enjoyed a certain degree of prosperity.

Thus, Bin DarwƯsh’s mission was not merely a religious reform mission – the propagation of the ShƗdhiliyya – but was also a social and political one. Consciously or unconsciously, Shaykh Muতammad QƗsim certainly tends to exaggerate the importance of his hero Bin DarwƯsh, and yet his retrospective interpretation is not completely erroneous. Bin DarwƯsh and al-Ma‫ޏ‬rnjf have left traces of these reforms on the Comoros. In Ngazidja, for example, the extravagant expense of the grand mariage was severely criticized by al-Ma‫ޏ‬rnjf. Although he failed to do away with it completely, he managed to create an age group called maDarwish (an allusion to his master Bin DarwƯsh), which, while accepting the social institution of the grand marriage, rejected the orgy of wasteful expenditure that formerly accompanied it. This age group still exists today in every village of Ngazidja.

13

Qur ରƗn 12 (Ynjsuf): 88. “Mndru yatsu stahiki” (lit. someone who is not worthy of it), said Muতammad QƗsim in Comorian. 14

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The Encounter between Bin DarwƯsh and al-Ma‫ޏ‬rnjf The story of the encounter between Bin DarwƯsh and al-Ma‫ޏ‬rnjf goes as follows: ‫ޏ‬Abd al-RaতmƗn b. Shaykh, al-Ma‫ޏ‬rnjf's brother, and his mother, Mwana Mkuwu wa Mwinyi Mkuwu, were also in the boat that brought Bin DarwƯsh back to the Comoros. When the boat arrived at the harbor of Moroni, al-Ma‫ޏ‬rnjf got on board to help his brother and his mother go ashore. This is where he met Bin DarwƯsh for the first time. Tradition has it that “when their eyes met,” the two men liked each other immediately and struck up a friendship that was to be decisive for the propagation of ShƗdhiliyya-Yashrnj৬iyya in the region. They parted, both going to their own homes: al-Ma‫ޏ‬rnjf to Moroni and Bin DarwƯsh to his native town of Itsandra-Mdjini. On the way, Bin DarwƯsh recalled the order his shaykh had given him before he left Palestine. He had told him – again according to the tradition of the ৬arƯqa – to give the amƗna (deposit, trust), or direction of the ৬arƯqa, to a sharƯf called Muতammad. In his native town, Bin DarwƯsh opened a Qur ରanic school for children at his home and at the same time gave lessons in fiqh and other Islamic sciences to the adults who formed the first circle of disciples of the ৬arƯqa. It was said that at the baraka of Bin DarwƯsh, children learned to read the Qur ର Ɨn and to write within only six months, a process that normally took about three years. This persuaded scores of parents from different places on the island to bring their offspring to Bin DarwƯsh to study. Muতammad al-Ma‫ޏ‬rnjf also came to visit his friend from time to time and to attend the darasa (course) which the latter held. Subsequently, Bin DarwƯsh gave the ijƗza15 to al-Ma‫ޏ‬rnjf and consecrated him as KhalƯfa of the order, supposedly with the following words: “Take over your duties. You are from among those of the house of the Prophet and we are his servants” (ManƗqib, p. 14). This took place in 1882. Immediately afterwards, Bin DarwƯsh ordered alMa‫ޏ‬rnjf to go and propagate the ৬arƯqa on the other islands of the Comoros, in Madagascar and in East Africa. When al-Ma‫ޏ‬rnjf had finished his first missionary journey to the other islands and to Madagascar, Bin DarwƯsh, presumably convinced that his mission had been accomplished, left the Comoros for good and disappeared without trace. His disappearance is shrouded in mystery and 15

“IjƗza” means license, authorization. In the tradition of knowledge transmission in Islam, the ijƗza is the “diploma” awarded to a disciple by his master at the end of his studies. In Sufism, the KhalƯfa gives the ijƗza to a new disciple or someone he intends to give a post of responsibility.

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surrounded by myth and legend to this day. The following short story, told by a murƯd in August 2002, is an example of the cult surrounding Bin DarwƯsh.16 At the end of the 1940s and the beginning of the 1950s,17 all the murƯdnjn of the Comoros decided to build a zƗwiya in Itsandra-Mdjini, where Bin DarwƯsh had lived before his disappearance. They decided to commemorate the date of the inauguration of the zƗwiya (the 13th of Sha‫ޏ‬bƗn) every year, considering it the date of Bin DarwƯsh's disappearance. This is how it is remembered up until today, but few people recall that it is in fact the date of the inauguration of the zƗwiya. This is one of many examples illustrating how the murƯdnjn invent and re-invent, construct and reconstruct the history of their ৬arƯqa. As to the disappearance of Bin DarwƯsh, disciples relate two different but overlapping versions. According to the first, people got up one day and found that Bin DarwƯsh had disappeared from the room he slept and prayed in. Moreover, the door, which could only be locked from inside, was not open, nor had it been broken. According to the second version, Bin DarwƯsh took a boat that was leaving for Zanzibar. During the trip, he went into a trance (jadhba). Thinking that they had taken a madman on board, the owners of the ship put him in chains and shut him in a locker. When the ship arrived in Zanzibar, they opened the locker to set the “madman” free, but found it empty. The “madman” had disappeared without opening or breaking the door. This latter version can be found in the Qa‫܈‬Ưda Nuni (a rhymed equivalent of the ManƗqib)18 of Fundi ‫ޏ‬Abd alWahhƗb from Singani on the island of Ngazidja.

Some Interpretative Remarks Bin DarwƯsh’s path through life is full of mysteries and places where the information needed to write a biography is missing. Even the murƯdnjn themselves contribute to maintaining this state of affairs, although largely unintentionally. For example, the origins of Bin DarwƯsh are subject to 16

Interview, August 2002, with Ali wa Usufi, murƯd of the ৬arƯqa in ItsandraMdjini. 17 When I asked him about it, Ali wa Usufi made an effort to jog his memory and give an approximate date: “In 1942 I started my first paid job as an unskilled worker with Kalfane (a Comorian big businessman of Indian Ismaili origin), and the inauguration of the zƗwiya was probably ten years later.” 18 The Nuni qa‫܈‬Ưda is written by Fundi ‫ޏ‬Abd al-WahhƗb b. Shaykh ‫ޏ‬Abdallah of Singani in the Ngazidja local language. It is a lyrical account of the history of the ShƗdhiliyya-Yashrnj৬iyya. Fundi ‫ޏ‬Abd al-WahhƗb died in the 1960s.

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controversy today. Sultan Chouzour writes in his book Le pouvoir de l’honneur (p. 49) that Bin DarwƯsh came from Muscat (Oman), something I never heard from any of the disciples or guides of the ৬arƯqa I interviewed on the Comoros and in Tanzania (from July to October 2001). Josef van Ess maintains in his article (p. 86) that Bin DarwƯsh came to the Comoros with his mother and his brother. Both disciples of the ৬arƯqa and nondisciples agree that he was born and raised in the town of Itsandra-Mdjini. Only recently (in the 1980s), and nobody knows why, people started saying that he was indeed born in Itsandra-Mdjini and grew up there, but that his mother was from Ntsoudjini (a town close to Itsandra-Mdjini). His father was from Itsandra-Mdjini and when he married, he brought his wife with him to Itsandra-Mdjini. Shaykh ‫ޏ‬Abd al-ৡamad ‫ޏ‬Idarnjs, a shaykh of the ৬arƯqa from Moroni, even confirmed that Bin DarwƯsh was descended from one of the old sultans of the Itsandra region.19 Strangely enough, not a single person known today, whether in Itsandra-Mdjini or in Ntsoudjini, claims to be related to Bin DarwƯsh. Moreover, when Bin DarwƯsh came back from Palestine, he did not take up residence with any member of his family, either at Itsandra-Mdjini or at Ntsoudjini. He did not even settle at the spot where the house of his birth was thought to be located. On the contrary, he went to live in a small house (probably made of straw in the beginning) built by his first friends in an area that – people said – belonged to his parents. Later on, the zƗwiya bearing his name was built on this spot. Even if he has been mystified (and himself contributed consciously or otherwise to this mystification), Bin DarwƯsh is undeniably a historical figure who really existed. The mysteries that surround him only increase his aura. After all, it is essential for every founder of a ৬arƯqa to have a biography full of miracles; he creates miracles; his life itself is a miracle. Another common quality attributed to this type of prophet (in an anthropological sense) is their ability to foresee what will happen in the future. For example, Bin DarwƯsh’s master ‫ޏ‬AlƯ NnjruddƯn al-Yashrnj৬Ư said to him: the one you will entrust with the direction of the ৬arƯqa will be called Muতammad and he will be a SharƯf.20 When he saw al-Ma‫ޏ‬rnjf, he knew immediately that this was the person his master had talked about. Another typical aspect is that Bin DarwƯsh is reported to have been 19

Interview, July 31, 2001, with Shaykh ‫ޏ‬Abd al-ৡamad. Other disciples say that ‫ޏ‬AlƯ NnjruddƯn had told them that his real name would be Muhammad al-Ma‫ޏ‬rnjf. 20

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searching not only for his brother but also for “the truth,” in the shape of the ৡƗhib al-Waqt or ৡƗhib al-ZamƗn (the Man of Time). The man who was to become his disciple, i.e., al-Ma‫ޏ‬rnjf, had already experienced a similar search. In fact, he had been consecrated as a disciple and KhalƯfa of the QƗdiriyya brotherhood in Zanzibar by the Somalian from Barawa, Shaykh Uways himself, who was the founder of this ৬arƯqa in East Africa. But when he arrived on the Comoros, he neither practiced nor propagated this “path”. It turned out not to be the right path for him. He had to wait for the encounter with Bin DarwƯsh. In contrast, what appears to be peculiar and specific about Bin DarwƯsh is the fact that, having established the ShƗdhiliyya-Yashrnj৬iyya in East Africa, he did not stay to propagate it but rather preferred to hand over the responsibility to someone else before vanishing into thin air. He seems to have aimed at this quite deliberately. After all, al-Ma‫ޏ‬rnjf turned out to be a man of great determination. And he came from a family endowed with all the elements of local social prestige.

Muতammad al-Ma‫ޏ‬rnjf When Muতammad al-Ma‫ޏ‬rnjf received his master’s order to take the message to the other islands, he set sail for Moheli with a number of disciples (among them ‫ޏ‬Abdallah Fundi and Ahmad bin Nahudha). Afterwards, they went to Pomoni and walked from there to Mutsamudu, the capital of Anjouan. There they became involved in a struggle with the local ‫ޏ‬ulamƗ ର and the sultan of the island. These circumstances did not prevent al-Ma'rnjf from recruiting new followers and organizing the first dƗ iର ra (lit. circle) in Anjouan. Nevertheless, Sultan Sayyid Abdallah and the local ‫ޏ‬ulamƗ ର never ceased to persecute him and his disciples. The conflict escalated one Friday in the mosque of Mutsamudu, bringing alMa‫ޏ‬rnjf and his followers face to face with the Sultan and his party. Sabers were drawn and a number of people were arrested and subsequently imprisoned. In the course of a chase, al-Ma‫ޏ‬rnjf and some of the disciples jumped into the sea to save themselves and swam out to the open sea. An Indian vessel heading for Madagascar took them aboard. Eight days later they arrived at Nossi-Bé (Nosy-Be), where they disembarked. Even in Nossi-Bé, al-Ma‫ޏ‬rnjf must have recruited some followers. From there, they traveled to Mayotte, where al-Ma‫ޏ‬rnjf ordered some of his disciples to return to Anjouan to continue the propagation of the message, while he and other disciples (namely his brother ‫ޏ‬AlƯ and his uncle Aতmad al-KabƯr,

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or Aতmad al-‫ޏ‬Arab) returned to Ngazidja. They received a warm welcome from Bin DarwƯsh. The endeavors in Anjouan only strengthened al-Ma‫ޏ‬rnjf’s calling. A few days later he sent his brother ‫ޏ‬AlƯ to Anjouan, enjoining him to continue the da‫ޏ‬wa of the brotherhood there. He stayed there six months before returning to Ngazidja. As I have stressed above, it was after the trial of Anjouan that Bin DarwƯsh decided to disappear. His mission had been accomplished; the torch had passed to al-Ma‫ޏ‬rnjf. The island of Anjouan, strictly speaking the Sultan Sayyid ‫ޏ‬Abdallah, had made up with alMa‫ޏ‬rnjf. The latter made a second and last journey to the island, this time unimpeded. The second major sociopolitical conflict that al-Ma‫ޏ‬rnjf ventured into was in 1883 with his cousin (the son of his uncle), Sultan Ntibet Said Ali (Sayyid ‫ޏ‬AlƯ), the ruler of Ngazidja.21 In fact, when he returned from his last trip to Anjouan, he found the population of Ngazidja in a state of rebellion against Said Ali, particularly since he had begun to dispossess the people of their land in order to give it to Léon Humblot, the major colonist in the region. The people asked al-Ma‫ޏ‬rnjf for his support and he gave his assent. According to a different version (not that of the ManƗqib), the people even promised to confer on him political power, should the rebellion succeed. The ManƗqib claims that al-Ma‫ޏ‬rnjf accepted the offer on condition that the Wangazidja (inhabitants of Ngazidja) abandon their profligate grand marriage practices. In the meantime, an order had been issued to the Friday preachers (ma hatibu = khu৬abƗ )ର to no longer mention the name of the sultan in their sermons. No sooner said than done. Panicking, the sultan sent an emissary to Mayotte to inform the French governor of the island of the fact that the population of Ngazidja was attempting to topple him and that military forces were to come to his aid. A number of French soldiers were shipped to Ngazidja and began arresting and imprisoning the chief troublemakers. Having heard this news, alMa‫ޏ‬rnjf fled the island with a number of followers to seek refuge in Zanzibar. He did not return to the Comoros until after Said Ali was exiled to Diego-Suarez (Madagascar) by Humblot on September 19, 1893.22 21

Before French colonialization, the island of Ngazidja (Grande Comore) was composed of seven, later five, small sultanates. In a system of rotation, one of the sultans would hold the title of Sultan Ntibe, i.e., chief sultan or sultan of sultans, for a set period. 22 Later, in 1897, Said Ali was again exiled to la Réunion. He took Humblot to court, and the ruling stipulating his forced exile was overturned in 1906. He

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Scission in Ngazidja After the death of al-Ma‫ޏ‬rnjf (at the end of 1904), a struggle broke out concerning who would succeed him as KhalƯfa and the ৬arƯqa broke into two factions. One, led by ‫ޏ‬Abdallah Fundi, met in the Friday mosque of Moroni and the other, led by Ali wa Shehi (Sayyid ‫ޏ‬AlƯ b. Shaykh), met in the zƗwiya of the order, where al-Ma’rnjf is buried. ‫ޏ‬Abdallah Fundi, married to one of al-Ma‫ޏ‬rnjf's sisters, was the man al-Ma‫ޏ‬rnjf had asked to perform the last rites should he himself die. Al-Ma‫ޏ‬rnjf had also requested that Muতammad Fundi take care of his personal affairs when he was dead. All this served, according to the first faction, to legitimize ‫ޏ‬Abdallah Fundi’s succession as KhalƯfa. The leader of the second faction, Ali wa Shehi, was a paternal half-brother of al-Ma‫ޏ‬rnjf. Ali wa Shehi, refusing to acknowledge the succession of ‫ޏ‬Abdallah FundƯ, designated Maতmnjd b. Ynjsuf al-Shamrnjh (an Arab from ShƗm) as KhalƯfa. Some time later the latter left the Comoros for good, probably because he could not stand the strife and saw his departure as a means of furthering a rapprochement between the rival factions (at least, this is how it was told to me by the murƯdnjn). Subsequently, according to the murƯdnjn, the two factions decided to appoint Abdallah b. Himidi as KhalƯfa of the brotherhood. He was a large trader from the town of Snjr in Oman, whose settlement on the Comoros was reportedly supported by Bin DarwƯsh. He was also the “finance minister” of the ৬arƯqa. After the death of Shamrnjh, ‫ޏ‬Abdallah Fundi and Ali wa Shehi both assumed the leadership of the ৬arƯqa, but the partisans of ‫ޏ‬Abdallah Fundi considered him alone to be the muqaddam (first of the two). Only after the disappearance of these two figures did the ৬arƯqa enjoy a period of calm, but also a weakening. Although one of al-Ma‫ޏ‬rnjf's sons, namely Sayidi Hamadi wa Sayidi, had succeeded them, he could not obliterate the resentment caused by the long period of strife. To this day, the descendants of Ali wa Shehi, who carry the familial legitimacy, control the zƗwiya of Moroni, to the detriment of those of ‫ޏ‬Abdallah Fundi with Muতammad QƗsim at their head, who carry the spiritual legitimacy, and who are apparently much more commited and innovative.

returned to the Comoros in 1910 and married the mother of his son Said Ibrahim. He also received 20,000 francs in compensation. At the age of 55 he decided to spend the rest of his life in Madagascar, where he was granted a metal exploration license.

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The ShƗdhiliyya Takes Root in Northern Madagascar Before his death, al-Ma‫ޏ‬rnjf had taken care to send his uncle Aতmad b. Mwinyi Mkuwu b. Aতmad, known as Aতmad al-KabƯr,23 to Madagascar and his son, ‫ޏ‬AlƯ Muতammad al-Ma‫ޏ‬rnjf (‫ޏ‬AlƯ al-WafƗ), to the continent. The former had introduced the ShƗdhiliyya-Yashrnj৬iyya to northwestern Madagascar and was the hero of the Islamization of that region. The strategy adopted by Aতmad al-KabƯr in his missionary work in northern Madagascar has been pursued by all successful prophets. It consists of converting first and foremost the holders of political power. Supported by the latter, a prophet can proselytize the masses without major difficulty. When he arrived in the north of Madagascar, Aতmad alKabƯr became friends with King Antankarana Tsilana II (d. 1942), the leader of the Antankarana ethnic group, one of the most influential in the region.24 The Atankarana were evidently already Muslim but were not affiliated to any Islamic brotherhood. They simply called themselves “Silamo fakihi”.25 When Aতmad al-KabƯr took up residence among them, they converted in their masses to the ShƗdhiliyya-Yashrnj৬iyya. According to N. J. Gueunier, Aতmad al-KabƯr had received the king’s permission to take his message as far as the small villages of the kingdom. And according to oral tradition as noted by Gueunier, Aতmad al-KabƯr was carried on his missions in a sedan, like the king himself. When Saidina, brother of Sultan Said Ali, was appointed “indigenous governor” of northern Madagascar by the French, he also initiated campaigns for the conversion of the indigenous population to the ShƗdhiliyya-Yashrnjtiyya. Years later, Aতmad al-KabƯr returned to the island of Anjouan, where he died in 1333/1914. His grave, which is located in the zƗwiya of Mutsamudu, the capital of the island, is a place of pilgrimage (ziyƗra) today. His son AbdurraতmƗn directed the ৬arƯqa in northern Madagascar until his death in Ambilobe26 in 1965.

23

He was also called Abnj al-‫ޏ‬Arab. See N. J. Gueunier, Les Chemins de l'Islam à Madagascar, Paris, L’Harmattan, 1994, pp. 55–57. 25 “Legalistic Muslims, Muslims who follow only the prescriptions of fiqh.” 26 As a matter of interest, Ambilobe is well known in the region today, not so much for the shaykh’s tomb but for its much much-admired rum, also called Ambilobe. 24

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Beginnings of the ShƗdhiliyya in Tanzania and Mozambique, and Elsewhere on the Continent Shaykh Hussein b. Mahmud al-Ghassani Al-Ma‫ޏ‬rnjf’s second important missionary was Shaykh Hussein b. Mahmud al-Ghassani, an Afro-Omani who even before his conversion to the ShƗdhiliyya-Yashrnj৬iyya was the director of a madrasa at Kilwa Kisiwani (Tanzania), which he himself had founded.27 The first zƗwiya of the order in Tanzania (then called Tanganyika) was later added to this madrasa. Both became the center of the diffusion of the ShƗdhiliyyaYashrnj৬iyya in the subregion. Believers traveled there from other regions of the country, as well as from Kenya, Malawi and Mozambique, in order to study Islamic sciences and, at the same time, join the ৬arƯqa. Together, ‫ޏ‬AlƯ al-WafƗ and Shaykh Hussein also introduced the ShƗdhiliyyaYashrnj৬iyya in Kenya and Uganda. As far as the introduction of the ৬arƯqa in northern Mozambique is concerned, the information provided by Alpers28 and Martin29 is indispensable but insufficient. Alpers, who carried out research in Maputo in the Arquivo Histórico de Moçambique, as primarily relied on the works of Alvaro Pinto de Carvalho,30 C. R. Machado31 and N. J. Hafkin.32 Martin’s references on the subject are M. D. D. Newitt33 and Ernesto Jardim da Vilhena.34 According to Alpers, it was Shaykh Amur b. Jimba, a Comorian 27

See G. A. Mitchell, “Sheik Hussein’s School at Kilwa Kisiwani,” Kilwa District Book, vol. I, March 8, 1938, p. 2. 28 Edward A. Alpers, “A Complex Relationship: Mozambique and the Comoro Islands in the 19th and 20th Centuries” Cahiers d'Etudes Africaines, vol. 42, book 161, 2001, pp. 73–95. 29 Martin, Muslim Brotherhoods in 19th Century Africa, especially chapter 6, pp. 152–176: “The Qadiri and Shadhili Brotherhoods in East Africa, 1880–1910.” 30 Alvaro Pinto de Carvalho, “Notas para a História das Confrarias Islâmicas na Ilha de Moçambique,” Arquivi (Maputo), no. 4, 1988, pp. 59–66. 31 C. R. Machado, “Mussa-Quanto o Namuali (O Napoleão de Angoche),” Boletim da Sociedade de Geografia de Lisboa, vol. 38, no. 1–2, 1920, pp. 54–70. 32 N. J. Hafkin, “Trade, Society and Politics in Northern Mozambique, c. 1753– 1913,” doctoral thesis, Boston University, 1973. 33 M. D. D. Newitt, “Angoche, the Slave Trade, and the Portuguese, c. 1844– 1910,” Journal of African History, vol. 13, 1972, pp. 659–672, especially p. 662. 34 Ernesto Jardim da Vilhena, “A Influencia Islamica na costa Oriental d’Africa,” Boletim da Sociedade de Geografica de Lisboa, vol. 24a, 1906, pp. 133–146, 166– 180, 197–218.

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based in Zanzibar, who introduced the ShƗdhiliyya-Yashrnjtiyya to Mozambique in 1897, independent of al-Ma‫ޏ‬rnjf’s network. This Shaykh Amur b. Jimba traded goods between the Comoros, Zanzibar and Madagascar. Only in 1897, again according to Alpers, did al-Ma‫ޏ‬rnjf, probably at the request of Bin DarwƯsh, travel to Mozambique to propagate the tar૖qa. He stayed only two months and gave the ijƗza to two others, namely Muhamade Amade Gulamo and Nemane b. Haji Ali Twalibo (also known as Haji Galibo). Al-Ma‫ޏ‬rnjf later appointed these two figures as “co-leaders” of the ShƗdhiliyya-Yashrnjtiyya in Mozambique. Alpers continues his account by adding that in 1898, al-Ma‫ޏ‬rnjf sent his brother AlƯ b. Shaykh (Ali wa Shehi) to try to resolve a leadership conflict that had broken out within the country’s ShƗdhiliyya-Yashrnj৬iyya. Sayyid ‫ޏ‬AlƯ b. Shaykh, as KhalƯfa, gave the ijƗza to three more people, Ussufo Jamal Amur, Issufo Cassimo and Sayyid Junhar b. Saide Amade. He finally devised an agreement by which Shaykh Amur was to stay supreme guide of the ৬ar૖qa in Mozambique, succeeded after his death by Shaykh AnlauƝ b. Saide Abu Bakari, who in turn was to be succeeded on his death by Shaykh Amade Gulamo. The latter in fact took over the direction of the order in 1921.35 B. G. Martin gives the following version: Shaykh Amur b. Jimba of Moroni and Ahmad Mruzi had come to Mozambique from Ngazidja. The latter took up residence at Nguji (Angoche, Angoxa36), working as a trader and teacher of Islamic sciences, while the former traveled around northern Mozambique from region to region propagating the ৬ar૖qa. Moreover, as Martin continues his account, a report written by a Portuguese official in 1905 mentions a considerable concentration of Muslims along the coast of northern Mozambique. The people called them Monhés.37 These two versions have some obvious points in common, while diverging on others. Both underscore the intense relations that existed between the Comoros and Madagascar, relations created by merchants and Ulema from the Comoros. They were the propagators of Islam and of the ShƗdhiliyyaYashrnjtiyya in northern Mozambique at the end of the 19th and the 35

Alpers, “A complex relationship,” pp. 86–87. In the 19th century, Angoche was a prosperous town under the Sultanate of Hasan b. Yusuf and his successors; its prosperity was mainly due to the slave trade. 37 “Monye” is a term used in Anjouan and can be translated as “mister.” On Ngazidja it is pronounced “Mwinyi”. The term is used here as a title of respect for certain people and indicates noble descent. Today, it is used as a forename. In some regions of East Africa and the Great Lakes, sometimes all Comorians are called Mwinyi. 36

Former Institutions and Agents of Islamic Conversion

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beginning of the 20th centuries.38 However, neither the ManƗqib nor alMa‫ޏ‬rnjf’s disciples on the Comoros mention any journey of his to Mozambique. It is assumed that after his return from exile in Zanzibar until his death in 1904, al-Ma‫ޏ‬rnjf never left the Comoros again.39 We know from the ManƗqib that the shaykh sent his brother Ali wa Shehi on a mission to Anjouan. This document, however, does not mention that alMa‫ޏ‬rnjf made a missionary journey to the continent (Mozambique or elsewhere), apart from Anjouan. Nevertheless, it turns out today that he certainly must have visited the continental regions close to the Comoros. This is what was reported in Kilwa during my research stay there (August to September 2002) and by Shaykh NnjruddƯn (son of Shaykh Hussein and today’s leader of the brotherhood) and some of Shaykh Hussein’s disciples who are still alive, most prominently his former secretary, Shaykh Mohamed Said Mwichande. The latter told me the following story, which (according to him) he had heard from Shaykh Hussein himself.

The Biography of Shaykh Hussein as Related by His Disciples How the Direction of the Order Was Transferred to Shaykh Hussein40 The story of Shaykh Hussein’s assumption of the leadership of the ৬arƯqa is told by the Tanzanian murƯdnjn in the following way: One day, Shaykh Hussein (or ণusayn) was in Mikindani,41 where he was told that a boat had arrived from afar. He went to have a look and found two impressive figures among the crowd in the boat, one Sayyid Aতmad b. ‫ޏ‬Abd alraতmƗn and the other Sayyid ‫ޏ‬AlƯ b. Shehi (Ali wa Shehi). The former told him that they had come from Ngazidja to give him, Shaykh Hussein, the ijƗza of the ShƗdhiliyya-Yashrnj৬iyya brotherhood. On the third day, the 38

This includes the QƗdiriyya order, whose chief propagator was Shaykh ‫ޏ‬ƮsƗ b. Ahmad al-Msujini, KhalƯfa of the QƗdiriyya, from the town of Ntsujini on the island of Ngazidja. This very active figure – involved in the so-called Makka’s Brief – was initiated as murƯd and KhalƯfa by the Somalian Shaykh Uways alBarawi, founder of the QƗdiriyya in East Africa. 39 In almost all documents, including the ManƗqib, 1904 is mentioned as the date of al-Ma‫ޏ‬rnjf’s death. B. G. Martin, however, gives it as 1905. 40 Most of this information was given to me in August 2002 at Kilwa Pande by Shaykh Mohamed Said Mwichande, who was Shaykh ণusayn’s assistant and secretary. 41 A coastal town located in the extreme southeast of Tanzania, close to Mtwara.

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second of the two, Ali wa Shehi, who seemed bewildered and possibly disagreed with his companion’s decision, began wandering around nervously by the sea, saying that he wanted to return to Ngazidja at all costs. Shaykh Hussein made Ali wa Shehi embark on a boat that was just about to sail in the direction of Zanzibar and paid for the trip. From Zanzibar, he took another boat to Ngazidja. His companion Sayyid Aতmad b. ‫ޏ‬Abd al-RaতmƗn, however, spent a week at Mikindani with Shaykh Hussein before leaving with him for Kilwa Kisiwani. There, they gave the ijƗza to Himedi (Aতmad) b. KhalfƗn, ‫ޏ‬AlƯ b. KhalfƗn, Shaykh Muতammad b. ‫ޏ‬Abd al-RaতmƗn and 10 other people. On the 15th day, Sayyid Aতmad b. ‫ޏ‬Abd al-RaতmƗn returned to Ngazidja via Zanzibar. In Ngazidja he reported to al-Ma‫ޏ‬rnjf that he had encountered Shaykh Hussein and given him the ijƗza and the status of unaibu (Arabic: niyƗba) – in other words, the status of a representative of al-Ma‫ޏ‬rnjf, which implied the right to give others the ijƗza as KhalƯfa or simply as murƯd. Subsequently, a certain Shaykh Muতammad b. Bwanaheri was sent to Kilwa by al-Ma‫ޏ‬rnjf. He came from Ngazidja and arrived in Tanzania, passing through Zanzibar. He stayed there a month in order to teach Shaykh Hussein the doctrine of the ৬arƯqa. Some time later, al-Ma‫ޏ‬rnjf sent Shaykh ‫ޏ‬Abd al-WahhƗb from Ngazidja to Kilwa. He gave Shaykh Hussein a safƯnat (a collection of qaৢƯda) manuscript that had been handwritten by al-Ma‫ޏ‬rnjf. This time, the encounter took place at Shaykh Hussein's plantation (shamba) on Mafia Island. Al-Ma‫ޏ‬rnjf sent a letter to ‫ޏ‬AkkƗ to Shaykh IbrƗhƯm b. NnjruddƯn al-Yashrnj৬Ư, then supreme guide of the ৬arƯqa, informing him that he had appointed Shaykh Hussein as his naibu (Arabic: nƗ‫ގ‬ib) on the continent and that the latter was to be entered into the register (daftari) of the manaibu (pl. of naibu) of the order. AlMa‫ޏ‬rnjf also sent a letter to the murƯdnjn of Mozambique (the land he had already visited, according to Shaykh Mohamed Said Mwinchande), telling the people there that they were dependent no longer on Ngazidja, but rather on the zƗwiya of Kilwa. In fact, the relations between Ngazidja, Mozambique, Kilwa and Zanzibar were dense and direct during the 1900s. This explains why Shaykh ‫ޏ‬Abd al-WahhƗb, another representative of the brotherhood from Ngazidja, came to visit the zƗwiya at Kilwa Pande, approximately 30 years after Shaykh Hussein had been given the ijƗza. Ali wa Shehi wanted to take part in the first ziyƗra of Saba Ishirini42 organized 42

Saba Ishirini is the principal ceremony of the ShƗdhiliyya brotherhood in East Africa; see Chanfi Ahmed and Achim von Oppen, “Saba Ishirini: A Commemoration Ceremony as Performance of Translocality around the Southern Swahili Coast,” in Georg Stauth (ed.), On Archaeology of Sainthood and Local

Former Institutions and Agents of Islamic Conversion

53

at Kilwa Pande but arrived two days late on the 29th. He brought a djuba and a kilemba (turban), which al-Ma‫ޏ‬rnjf had bequeathed to Shaykh Hussein. Relations between the Comorian and the Tanzanian ShƗdhiliyyaYashrnj৬iyya continued after the death of al-Ma‫ޏ‬rnjf. Similarly to Ali wa Shehi, Shaykh ‫ޏ‬Abd al-WahhƗb went to Kilwa for a second time. Ali wa Shehi also sent his three children there (Shaykh IbrƗhƯm, Shaykh ণasan and Shaykh ণusayn), each at a different time. Shaykh YaতyƗ, the last active KhalƯfa of Ngazidja, also traveled twice to Kilwa and even went to Madagascar to propagate the order. The last envoy of al-Ma‫ޏ‬rnjf, who stayed at Kilwa for a long time, was his son Sayyid ‫ޏ‬AlƯ al-WafƗ. He worked with Shaykh Hussein, propagating the ৬arƯqa in Tanzania and Uganda, and finally settled down in Tanzania, marrying a woman from the family of Shaykh Hussein’s second wife, a well-known family in the region of Rufidji. (Shaykh Hussein had married Muhammad Meli’s daughter, while Sayyid ‫ޏ‬AlƯ al-WafƗ married the daughter of ‫ޏ‬AlƯ Meli, Muhammad’s brother.)

Shaykh Hussein’s Daҵwa for the ܑarƯqa on the Continent Shaykh Hussein's first zƗwiya was built in Kilwa Kisiwani in 1338AH/AD1919. The second zƗwiya, which was called zƗwiya al-kubrƗ (lit. the big zƗwiya), is at Kilwa Pande. It is the zƗwiya Makayo Makuwu (lit. headquarters) of the ShƗdhiliyya-Yashrnjtiyya in continental East Africa. More zawƗyƗ (pl. of zƗwiya) were subsequently built at Songo Mnara, Kisongo, Kiswere, Manyuri, Lihimalyao, Kilwa Kiwindje, Ndrarara and Kilwa Masoko (which is today the chief town of the Kilwa region). All these towns and villages are located in the Kilwa region. According to Shaykh Mohamed Said Mwichande, there are zawƗyƗ in the towns and villages of the other provinces (mkowa) and regions (wilaya) of Tanzania: in the mkowa (area) of Lindi, there are zawƗyƗ in Djiwe la Mzengo, Bimba, Muhumbu and Sudi. In the mkowa of Mtwara, there are zawƗyƗ in Ndrumbwe, Nawumbu, Msimbati, Mtremu, Mahuta and Trandayimba. In the wilaya of Tunduru, in Kadewere, Majala and Mkwajuni. On Mafia Island, there are zawƗyƗ in Chole Mjini, Kilindoni, Chemchemu, Bwejuwu and Baleni; in the Rufiji wilaya, in Mbwera, Jaja and Mohoro. And in Dar es Salaam, there are zawƗyƗ in the following Spirituality in Islam. Past and Present. Crossroad of Events and Ideas, Yearbook of the Sociology of Islam 5, 2004, pp. 89–104.

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districts: Hilamo, Magomeni Makuti, Mji Mwema, Mbezi, Kingelezi, and Kariyako, where the main zƗwiya of Dar es Salaam is located. According to Mohamed Said Mwichande, Shaykh Hussein often traveled by foot to propagate the ৬arƯqa in the hinterland, accompanied by several disciples. He went all the way to Newala, a place in a remote corner of Makonde and Tunduru in the land of the Yao. The Makonde (and the Yao to a lesser extent) were the ethnic groups among which the ShƗdhiliyyaYashrnj৬iyya recruited the majority of its disciples (this is still true of the Makonde today). Shaykh Mohamed Said Mwichande claims that Shaykh Hussein had even traveled to the land of Nyamwezi, to the town of Tabora. In this town, he presumably gave the ijƗza to Shaykh “Chief” Fundikira, the father of the politician Mohammad Fundikira. He appointed a Mshihiri43 called Shaykh SƗlim b. ‫ޏ‬Umar al-Wabar KhalƯfa of the Tabora region. That was around 1347/1928. He sent Shaykh Muতammad Tidjani, who was married to a daughter of Shaykh Hussein, from Mombasa to Uganda, where he stayed for some time before transferring the responsibility of the ৬arƯqa to Shaykh Shu‫ޏ‬aib. Shaykh Hussein also sent missionaries to Kenya, Mozambique and Malawi. In Kenya, one zƗwiya is in Nairobi and another in Mombasa. Mohamed Said Mwichande did not mention the zƗwiya of Nakuru, which is today directed by a son of ‫ޏ‬AlƯ al-WafƗ (son of al-Ma‫ޏ‬rnjf). The reason is that this zƗwiya is not part of the network of zawƗyƗ founded by Shaykh Hussein and his disciples. Uganda is where the ShƗdhiliyya-Yashrnj৬iyya established itself most succesfully after Tanzania. It is the most important ৬arƯqa in the country, way ahead of the QƗdiriyya. According to Shaykh Mwichande, there are 15 zawƗyƗ in Uganda. In the year 2000, 15 KhulafƗ‫( ގ‬pl. of KhalƯfa) and about 40 disciples from Uganda attended the Saba Ishirini in Kilwa Pande. The 15 Ugandan zawƗyƗ are located in Uterepi, Chirugu, Mikaranga, Miachi, Drezi, Champasi, Baranga, Katuru, Kawembe, Kariti, Migongo, Suka, Alama, Mukubini and Chiramuyi. Of these zawƗyƗ, some were probably founded by Shaykh Hussein (or rather Shaykh Mohamed Tidjani) and others by Shaykh NnjruddƯn Hussein. There are even zawƗyƗ founded by Shaykh NnjruddƯn in Tanzania, such as those in the region of Korogwe, where he founded 40 zawƗyƗ in the following towns and 43

This term is used to designate the Arabs or Afro-Arabs who claim origin in the town of Shihr in Yemen.

Former Institutions and Agents of Islamic Conversion

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villages: Mgombezi, Ndrungu, Misima, Mzeri, Mombo, Mwisho wa Shamba, Loshoto, Nguru, Hambalayi, Kweshiru, Mamba, Mzungu, Bagha, Kwajenda, Vungabazo, Magoma Songeya, Magoma Kigango, Mtaye and Magoma Mamboleo. In Arusha, there are zawƗyƗ in Moshi Mjini, Kiboni, Majengo, Kwamtei and Moshi maile Sita. There are only two zawƗyƗ in Mtonga, in Msikiti wa Sokoni and in Mwembeni. As far as Malawi is concerned, Mohamed Said Mwichande did not know the whereabouts of a zƗwiya of the ShƗdhiliyya-Yashrnj৬iyya . All he knew was that, in Malawi, the QƗdiriyya is the most important brotherhood. But this, he added, did not exclude the possible existence of a zƗwiya in Malawi, as, for example, some young Yao from Malawi had been in the madrasa of Shaykh Hussein in Kilwa. “Concerning Mozambique,” said Mohamed Said: I can only say the same. I don’t have any exact knowledge of the situation of the ShƗdhiliyya-Yashrnjtiyya in that country, although in Shaykh Husayn’s madrasa there was a number of young Mozambicans. Moreover, the Shaykh sent missionaries there. I only know that there is a zƗwiya at Nanchimbunga and another at Angoche. But these two were founded by people who came from Ngazidja.44

Returning to Shaykh Hussein’s propagation of the ShƗdhiliyya-Yashrnj৬iyya, it should be stressed that a zƗwiya or a madrasa was founded in all the places he had visited personally or sent a missionary to.

The Training of Shaykh Hussein After finishing Koranic school on his native island of Kilwa Kisiwani, Shaykh Hussein went to study in Zanzibar with some of the famous ‫ޏ‬ulamƗ ର of the time, such as Ahmad b. Abnjbakr b. Sumay৬ and Abdallah BƗkathƯr. In a note on the biography of Shaykh Hussein written by his son Shaykh NnjruddƯn, the latter writes that his father, after having studied at Kilwa, where his masters were Shaykh ‫ޏ‬Abd al-Samad and Shaykh KhƯmis b. ‫ޏ‬Abdallah, went on to study Islamic sciences in Zanzibar with a number of ‫ޏ‬ulamƗ ର. The one who influenced him most was Shaykh SƗlim b. Sa‫ޏ‬Ưd b. Sayf al-ShihƗbƯ, the author of a book on the Islamic science of inheritance (‫ޏ‬ilm al-mƯrƗth) entitled KitƗb al-mƯrƗth asnƗ al-ma‫ܒ‬Ɨlib (The Book of Successions: The Most Important Obligation), published in 1923.

44 “Ngazija” is the way the word is written in Kiswahili; it is “Ngazidja” in Comorian.

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The Sources of Shaykh Hussein’s Revenues Shaykh Hussein’s revenues derived mainly from trade, as is often the case among the waswahili,45 both past and present. His trade was based on the agricultural products he received from the huge plantations (ma-Shamba) he had inherited from his father. The shaykh sold mtama (sorghum, millet), coconuts, etc. Mohamad Abdallah of Songomnara (a disciple of Shaykh Hussein, about 76 years old today) gives much more precise information on the commercial activities of the shaykh, which apparently also involved seaborne trade, and on the precise locations of the maShamba. While Mohamed Said simply told me that Shaykh Hussein’s father owned a great deal of land in the regions of Kilwa Masoko and Mikindani, which Shaykh Hussein had apparently inherited, Mohamad Abdallah put forth far more precise data. He said, for example, that Shaykh Hussein owned ma-Shamba in the following places: Songomnara; Kilwa Kisiwani, where the Shamba bore the name Kipakoni; Masakasa at Kilwa Masoko; and Fuwoni46 on Mafia Island. He also had four mashuwa47 bearing the names Nyamazeni, Fumba macho, Turupa and Tuwaperepi. Mohamad Abdallah even explained what the names of these boats might mean: “Nyamazeni” literally means “be quiet,” and according to Mohamad Abdallah this was Shaykh Hussein’s way of telling his disciples to be quiet and not listen to talk of opponents of the ৬arƯqa, nor indeed be tempted to give them an answer. He added that it has to be remembered that, at the time, many people opposed Shaykh Hussein and the ৬arƯqa, mainly because of their dhikr rituals and their use of dufu or tari (drum or tambourine) music, which they held to be un-Islamic. In exchange for a fee, these mashuwa transported people, baggage and merchandise to Kilwa, Magesani, Ruvo Mtsinga, Kikwedu, Lindi Mafia, Mbwera (where Shaykh Hussein had his second wife), Mikindani, Zanzibar and Dar es Salaam. According to Mohamed Said Mwichande, among Shaykh Hussein’s diverse financial resources, emphasis must be put on the 1,200 shillings dedicated to his school which he received annually from the British colonial authorities: this was a lot of money at 45

Plural of mswahili (a Swahili person). It is probably a regional habit to give names to all the farms. 47 “Mashuwa” means “boat” (dhow). I noticed that people in southern Tanzania,used the term instead of “jahazi,” which also means boat. In Dar es Salaam, on the other hand, people use the term “boti.” The term “jahazi” is preferred in Nagazija, while “mashuwa” is used quite frequently on the other three islands. “Mashuwa” denotes a small boat, “djahazi” a larger one. 46

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the time. The sum mentioned by Shaykh Mohamed Said Mwinchande might not be exact, but the information concerning financial support from the British colonial authority for Shaykh Hussein’s school is certainly correct. It is confirmed by G. A. Mitchell in his article “Sheik Hussein’s School at Kilwa Kisiwani.” He writes that as “acting district officer,” he had had an interview with Shaykh Hussein, in which the latter disclosed that he would build a big madrasa with local material on condition that he was granted £25. Mitchell writes that he not only submitted this demand to his superior, the governor, but also advised him to grant, in addition, a small annual allowance for the maintenance of the madrasa.48 Shaykh NnjruddƯn, Shaykh Hussein’s son and current KhalƯfa of the order, also confirmed the fact that the British colonial administration gave financial support to the madrasa of Shaykh Hussein at Kilwa. However, he did not mention a precise amount. Neither does he mention this circumstance in the biographical manuscript dedicated to his father. He only writes that “in order to make his madrasa work, Shaykh Hussein was relying on the coconut plantations he had inherited from his father, as well as on his boat, which he employed in fishing and trade of all sorts. He also received aid from different benefactors.”

Shaykh NnjruddƯn, Son and Successor to Shaykh Hussein, in Charge of the ShƗdhiliyya-Yashrnj৬iyya in East Africa Information on this subject derives from Shaykh NnjruddƯn himself (although provided in a laconic manner, as he did not seem keen on talking about himself), from a brief biographical note in his book (ҵAbd al-QƗdir fƯ Ư‫ڲ‬Ɨ‫ ۊ‬al-ta‫܈‬awwuf, DƗr al Kutub, Cairo, 1972) and, predominantly, from Said Kupela, a Makonde who was his disciple and close assistant. With regard to Said Kupela, I primarily asked him to provide me with some information concerning Shaykh NnjruddƯn’s commercial activities and his imprisonment by the Nyerere regime – in other words, about his relation to politics. As to the circumstances of Shaykh NnjruddƯn’s education in the Islamic sciences, I am relying on the aforementioned biographical note and on other oral information.

NnjruddƯn’s Education in the Islamic Sciences NnjruddƯn begins his autobiographical note as follows: 48 “A small annual grant to this school for maintenance,” in Mitchell, “Sheik Hussein’s school at Kilwa Kisiwani,” p. 2.

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Chapter Three The author, Abnj IbrƗhƯm [lit. the father of IbrƗhƯm: referring to his first son IbrƗhƯm]49 NnjruddƯn b. ণusayn Maতmnjd al-GhassƗnƯ al-ShƗdhilƯ was born in the month of ShawwƗl in the year 1343 of the Hijrah of the one who said [i.e., the prophet Muতammad] ‘The best person is the one most useful to the people.’50 NnjruddƯn was born and raised at Kilwa Kisiwani. It is an island known well by the historians and visited a lot by the tourists who come there to visit the ruins of ancient buildings and the graves of saints.

On the following page he recalls the importance of his father’s role in the expansion of the ShƗdhiliyya-Yashrnj৬iyya in the region. Then, further on, NnjruddƯn tells us about his training, saying that he learned the Koran, the fiqh, the tawতƯd and the taৢawwuf (Sufism) with Shaykh ‫ޏ‬AlƯ b. Muতammad al-TƯjƗnƯ al-ShƗdhilƯ (to whom he refers by the title of wƗlid, father). He later went to Kiswera, where he was taught Arabic by Shaykh Manৢnjr b. Muতammad al-YamanƯ. It is worth mentioning that Shaykh NnjruddƯn’s mother tongue and that of his father (and probably his grandfafher) was not Arabic but Kiswahili, despite their Arab origin. Nevertheless, they had a very good command of Arabic. Awareness of their Arab origins had possibly motivated them more than others to become proficient in the language, as witnessed in their written works, especially those of Shaykh NnjruddƯn, a man with whom I communicated in both Arabic and Kiswahili. After studying in Kiswera, NnjruddƯn, by his own account, went to Lindi, where he was taught handicrafts, tafsƯr (commentary) on the Qur ରƗn and other religious sciences by Shaykh Muতammad b. Ynjsuf b. ণasan alQƗdirƯ al-ShƗdhilƯ, who was a pupil of Sayyid ‫ޏ‬Abd al-raতmƗn b. Muতammad al-MukunƯ (Mwinyi ‫ޏ‬Abnjd) al-AlawƯ. Among his other teachers were the Azharite SulaymƗn b. ‫ޏ‬AlƯ al-‫ޏ‬AlawƯ, ণasan b. ‫ޏ‬Umayr al-ShƯrƗzƯ, the author of many books such as al-Fat‫ ۊ‬al-KabƯr, the MadƗrij al-ҵalƯ and the WasƯlat al-rajƗ; as-Sayyid Abnj al-ণasan JamƗl al-Layl; Sayyid ‫ޏ‬Umar b. Abnj bakr b. Sumay৬ al-‫ޏ‬AlawƯ al-ণadramƯ; and finally Aতmad Abnj RayyƗ, a teacher at al-Azhar in Cairo. All of these ‫ޏ‬ulamƗ ର, he writes, authorized him to admonish people to do good (al-tadhkƯr), to learn continually and teach (al-ta‫ޏ‬allum wa al-ta‫ޏ‬lƯm), and to propagate (da‫ޏ‬wa).

49 Ibrahim Husein is a writer and professor of Swahili literature at the University of Dar es Salaam. He is mostly known for his historical novel about Kinjikitile, the hero of the Maji-Maji rebellion (1905–07) against German occupation. The novel has been adapted into a play. 50 “Khayru al-nƗs anfa‫ޏ‬ahum li al-nƗs,” ণadƯth.

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By mentioning scholars like SulaymƗn al-‫ޏ‬AlawƯ, a former Azharite of Zanzibar, ‫ޏ‬Umar b. Sumay৬ and Hasan b. ‫ޏ‬Umayr al-ShirƗzƯ, three of the region’s best-known ‫ޏ‬ulamƗ ର, NnjruddƯn tries to enhance his credentials, showing that he had studied with the best scholars of the region in his time. This legitimation increases with his allusion to the Egyptian Azharite ‫ޏ‬Ɨlim, implying that he had also spent some time studying at al-Azhar. He even showed me a picture of himself with General Nagib, the then Egyptian president. This must have been at the beginning of the 1950s, shortly after the “free officers” took power in July 1952. I do not know, however, how long Shaykh NnjruddƯn stayed in al-Azhar. He also made a short journey to Mecca and Medina. He returned to al-Azhar between November 1987 and January 1988 to take part in a training program on methods of da‫ޏ‬wa. The aspects I was interested in most were, as already mentioned, his commercial activities on the one hand, and on the other hand his misadventure with the Nyerere regime in 1965 (four years after Tanzanian independence in 1961).

Shaykh NnjruddƯn’s Commercial and “Political” Activities in Lindi Shaykh NnjruddƯn settled in Lindi, a town in southern Tanzania, in the 1950s. He opened a madrasa and became friends with a local ‫ޏ‬Ɨlim called Shaykh Badi Ynjsuf (who had studied at Lamu), who supported him and also conducted courses with him. At the same time, Shaykh NnjruddƯn worked as a karani (assistant secretary) in an enterprise owned by a rich Baniyani, cutting Mkokoto (a sort of mangrove, the red bark of which is used for dyeing and preserving animal skins) at the edge of the sea for sale abroad.51 The enterprise also produced Chokaa52 for sale. Some time later, Shaykh NnjruddƯn quit his job with the Baniyani and decided to “set up his own business.” He took to buying nguru (a sort of fish mainly sold dried and salted) in Zanzibar and going by car to the large cities of southern Tanzania (Lindi, Tunduru, Masasi, Songeya, Mtwara) to resell it. He himself or his assistant, one of his disciples, drove the car, while someone else took care of the fish shop at home in Lindi. The fish trade was very profitable at the time, to such an extent that in the 1950s, Shaykh 51

The Mkoko were sold in India and in Arab countries, and most probably elsewhere. 52 Chokaa is lime obtained by burning coral stones. Among the Swahili, it is used in the construction of stone houses and to paint the facade.

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NnjruddƯn could already afford to build several houses in Lindi. During this time, he gave financial support to communities in the region that were building mosques or madƗris. He continued holding courses in his madrasa. Shaykh NnjruddƯn received students from distant regions, some of whom even came from Mozambique. He sometimes brought young people back from his business trips (selling fish), who had been entrusted to him by their parents in order to study in his madrasa. Like many others, they were given free food and accommodation by the shaykh. The shaykh’s success, both on the economic level and in terms of teaching and the expansion of his ৬arƯqa, was, according to the murƯdnjn, the reason behind the plot against him in 1965.53 The murƯdnjn told me that as the shaykh often went to Zanzibar to trade, people in Lindi were jealous of his success and began to report stories to the government (Sirikalini) along the lines of “Shaykh NnjruddƯn has formed an alliance with the people of Zanzibar to overthrow Nyerere.” These fake reports finally convinced the “people in the government,” who decided to put the shaykh under arrest in 1965. He spent eight months in prison in Lirungu in the Mtwara region. In this period, he wrote his book ҵAbd al-qƗdir fƯ Ư‫ڲ‬Ɨ‫ ۊ‬al-ta‫܈‬awwuf and also managed to convert quite a number of his fellow inmates to Islam. He was finally released on condition that he leave Lindi and settle in a different part of the country, which he was free to choose. After consultation with some of his close companions, he decided to move to Tanga.

Shaykh NnjruddƯn’s Forced Exile in Tanga It seems natural that Shaykh NnjruddƯn chose Tanga as his residence. It is a coastal town with a Muslim majority and a very cosmopolitan population, consisting of Arabs, Africans, African-Arabs and Indians. Considering his origins and his social career, the shaykh could not have found a more convenient place, except for Dar es Salaam. Tanga was a trading town with one of the largest harbors in the country after Dar es Salaam. It is not far from Zanzibar and Mombasa, both towns where the shaykh had close relatives, networks of Ulema friends and business relations. He would thus be able to resume his commercial and missionary activities in even better circumstances than in Lindi.

53 The murƯdnjn call it “fitna” (lit. discord), a term which is also used to describe the great schism in early Islamic history.

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In the meantime, Shaykh NnjruddƯn had resumed his trading activities. He let one of his disciples, who had already assisted him with teaching, take care of the madrasa in Lindi and gave some of his friends there the responsibility of looking after his possessions, notably his houses. The ‫ޏ‬ulamƗ ର of Tanga, including Selemani Mbwana, Shaykh Juma, and Shaykh Hemedi, gave him a friendly welcome. According to the murƯdnjn, the ‫ޏ‬ulamƗ ର of Tanga visited the shaykh frequently to study with him. Some, however, came to verify whether he was truly an‫ޏ‬Ɨlim. Once they had found out that he really was an excellent ‫ޏ‬Ɨlim, better even than themselves, they listened to his advice on all the religious affairs of the community of Tanga. Some time later, the Ulema of Korogwe (a town close to Tanga) came to persuade him to settle with them. Again according to the murƯdnjn, by persuading Shaykh NnjruddƯn to come to Korogwe they hoped to revitalize Islamic education in the town and its region, which at the time lacked ‫ޏ‬ulamƗ ର of any national stature. Shaykh NnjruddƯn accepted the offer and went to Korogwe. He bought a house and its surroundings from an Indian in Mgombezi and allowed his two wives and children and some of his pupils from Lindi to come and live there. He opened a zƗwiya and a madrasa. Noting that Mgombezi did not have a post office where the local people could receive and send mail, he established a small post office in part of his house, in agreement with the local administration. Two pupils were placed in charge of selling stamps and distributing mail. A shop was opened, managed by one of the shaykh’s wives and a pupil as an assistant. Thus the shaykh gradually became prosperous. He was present at all religious manifestations in the Korogwe region, and even in the neighboring Usambara region, where he was always accompanied by a group of disciples playing SamƗ ର music with their tambourines. Furthermore, the shaykh was still involved in business, the most profitable part of which was the fish trade.

The Shaykh Re-enters the Fish Trade In 1969 Shaykh NnjruddƯn started trading fish from the Tanzanian coast to Zambia. He himself drove the car, assisted by one of his disciples, who replaced him in the driver’s seat from time to time. A second disciple accompanied them and helped with the business. The shaykh tried to link this commercial operation with da‫ޏ‬wa activities. The following formula was written on the front of his car: “Akazaliwa Makka S. W.” (lit. He was born in Mecca; God bless him and grant him salvation.) After work he would go to the mosques to pray and to preach. He occasionally encountered old Yao from Malawi, who had been disciples of his father,

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Shaykh Hussein, in Kilwa. These men, who were sometimes 90 or even 100 years old, had migrated to Zambia in search of a better life and to proselytize in the name of Islam. The shaykh and his two companions bought fish in Tanzania and sold it in Zambia in places such as Ndola (or Ndora), Mfufila, Chongora, Kitre and elsewhere. They usually stayed eight days in Zambia, returned to Tanzania for fresh supplies, and four days later were already on their way back to Zambia. In 1972, when the Tanzanian state began to issue costly licenses for the fish trade, the shaykh decided his enterprise would not be profitable enough in the end and went out of business, dedicating himself to teaching. In 1980, he left Korogwe to settle in Dar es Salaam. His house, the zƗwiya and the madrasa became the responsibility of his former pupils, who were now teachers at the Mgombezi madrasa. The current disciples, of whom there are about 300, still enjoy free food and accommodation.

Shaykh NnjruddƯn: Not a “Fish Marabout” Shaykh NnjruddƯn can certainly not be dubbed a “fish marabout” in the way that leaders of the West African ৬uruq are called “peanut marabouts.” In West Africa, the shaykh or the marabout “employs” droves of talibe (disciples) without pay on his peanut plantations and in the marketing of peanuts and other products. This is not the case with Shaykh NnjruddƯn. In fact, apart from the four to six disciples who work “without pay” in his business, the rest of the disciples study at the madrasa only and simply have to grow their own food on the shaykh’s land. Today, they still grow sorghum, maize and mchicha (a plant with edible leaves, comparable to spinach) in particular, and maharagi or maharagwe (beans). To the madrasa in Mgombezi, the shaykh even gave a machine to grind the maize as a present. As well as using it themselves, they also allow the inhabitants of Mgombezi to do so in exchange for a sum of money. Does this mean that the help given by the shaykh to his disciples is completely without return, and that only God will reward him? The fact that Shaykh NnjruddƯn’s disciples do not work for him on a massive scale and without pay as do the talibe of the West African marabouts does not mean that they do not “return his gift.” Quite the contrary, if one considers the question along the lines of Marcel Mauss’s theory of the gift.54 This 54

See Marcel Mauss, “Essai sur le don. Forme et raison de l'échange dans les sociétés archaiques,” the second part of the book Sociologie et anthropologie, Paris, Quadrige/PUF, 1991 (first published 1951). See also the introduction of the

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classical theory considers that the gift has three aspects or obligations:55 giving, receiving and returning. The most satisfactory of the three is giving. It establishes a dual relationship of solidarity and superiority between the one who gives and the one who takes: solidarity because the one who gives shares voluntarily what he possesses; superiority because the one who receives feels “obliged” and finds himself in a state of dependence on the donor until he returns what has been given. Even then, he is not completely “liberated.” The disciples of Shaykh NnjruddƯn will never return his gift, since in reality it was not presented to them but to God: fƯ sabƯl Allah (on the path of God), lƯ ajl Allah (for the sake of God). In this exchange of gifts, the disciples (born into very poor families) must be seen as God’s representatives, suggesting that this is indeed a case of the fourth obligation (or aspect) of the gift, i.e., the one given to divinities or their representatives. Beyond the divine recompense, the gift given to the disciples by the shaykh also has social and economic effects. By helping disadvantaged youth, the shaykh earns the gratitude of their families and society at large. He benefits in various ways from the ensuing social prestige. It brings him, for example, closer to the state authorities, which in turn facilitates – in one way or another – his trading activities and those of his family. Since the 1980s, especially under the government of President Ali Hassan Mwinyi (1980–95), the shaykh has in fact become the spiritual leader of the Tanzanian Muslims. It is he, as ‫ޏ‬Ɨlim, who is asked for advice by the state on all matters relevant to the Muslims in the country.56

same book written by Claude Lévi-Strauss: “Introduction à l’oeuvre de Marcel Mauss.” About the same subject, see also Maurice Godellier, L’Enigme du don, Paris, Fayard/Champs Flammarion, 1996, and the writings of Annette Weiner on this subject, the last of which is Inalienable Possessions: The Paradox of Keeping while Giving, Berkeley, University of California Press, 1992. 55 The fourth obligation is when beings considered superior are involved: divine powers, natural spirits and the spirits of the dead or their human representatives. 56 During this period, the monumental bed Shaykh Husayn slept in was transferred to the national museum of Tanzania in Dar es Salaam. Made at the beginning of the 19th century and inherited from his grandfather, it is on display in the section where objects from Kilwa Kisiwani are to be found, and some historical information is provided.

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The ণajj Trust The ণajj Trust (“Haji Trust” in Kiswahili) was established in 1992 by Shaykh NnjruddƯn and some of his friends, not all of them disciples of the ShƗdhiliyya-Yashrnj৬iyya. Abdulmajid Salih Qasim was president for the first year. Shaykh NnjruddƯn himself has been the president since 1993, with Abdallah Mubarak Djabir as secretary general. The latter has a realestate agency and works for the ণajj Trust in an honorary capacity, according to what he told me. Yet he is an important element in the organization; in fact, he is the motor that makes the machine work. As he is not in his office very often, his affairs are administered by his assistant, Abbas Ali Uthman. The same is true of Shaykh NnjruddƯn, whose office is administered by a certain Omar Abdullah Alii from Zanzibar. These two young men (Omar Abdullah Alii and Abbas Ali Uthman), the people who actually manage the ণajj Trust and work there every day, are both graduates of the Islamic University of Medina. All in all, 20 people work in the institution, whose main task is to run the annual pilgrimage (তajj) of Tanzanians to Mecca (except for those from Zanzibar, where another institution is in charge of the তajj): to organize their journey there and back, including accommodation and other requirements for the length of the pilgrims’ stay in Saudi Arabia. It appears to be a profitable business venture; at least, this is the case in other countries where similar enterprises exist. The employers of the ণajj Trust all confirmed that business was doing well, but they declined to give me any figures concerning turnover or total profits, revealing only that the number of pilgrims the enterprise takes care of annually is between 300 and 500. It is interesting to note that the pilgrimage used to be organized by the BAKWATA, the Baraza Kuu la Waislamu wa Tanzania or National Muslim Council of Tanzania. However, its method of running the business was highly disputed among Muslims in the country. One of the reproaches leveled against the members of the BAKWATA was that they and their families had taken advantage of the few free pilgrimage tickets accorded as a rule to each Muslim country by the Saudi Arabian government. Moreover, they monopolized the market, prohibiting all private enterprises from selling তajj trips. Things changed in 1992 with the initiative of Shaykh NnjruddƯn. Not surprisingly, this happened under the reign of his friend, Ali Hassan Mwinyi, who was about to liberalize the country’s economy. It was natural for the government to officially recognize the shaykh’s ণajj Trust. This occurred in 1995, with the result that the BAKWATA lost its monopoly in the তajj business – remaining in the market but now lagging way behind the shaykh’s company. The ণajj Trust

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has representatives in every large town in the country, where believers interested in doing the তajj can register. Leaflets containing the respresentative’s name, address and telephone number are posted in the mosques and public squares of these towns. The case of the ণajj Trust is an example of the ability of the leader of the ৬ar૖qa ShƗdhiliyya in Tanzania to adapt to the modern world. He managed to react quickly to the political changes of the 1990s, i.e. the economic liberalization, and maximized his spiritual and financial capital.

Conclusion To sum up, this chapter has attempted to elucidate the following subjects: 1. The contribution of the ShƗdhiliyya to enlarging the Swahili cultural space. 2. The history of the ties, first, between the different representatives of the ShƗdhiliyya in East Africa and, second, between the latter and their peers in the Middle East. This leads to the observation that, for many translocal institutions in Africa like the East African ShƗdhiliyya, the phenomenon of globalization is not something new, as Frederick Cooper (2001)57 and others have stressed. Globalization only enhanced and expanded the means of transport and communication available to translocal institutions. Another factor of change is the fact the globalization itself has become an issue in the media and in political and scientific discussions. 3. The strong historical consciousness of the members of the ShƗdhiliyya in East Africa and the ways in which this consciousness is expressed. 4. The effort of adaptation which the leaders of the ৬arƯqa have undertaken and are still undertaking in order to make it attractive to would-be disciples. 5. The fact that, despite shared principles, history, rituals and networks, every local ShƗdhiliyya has its special, unique features. The conclusions drawn from this inquiry fly in the face of many ideas circulating today, especially two commonplaces: the weakening of the ৬uruq or their slow demise; and an evolutionist view that the world is moving toward a globalization of Islam, supposedly superseding local 57 Frederick Cooper, “What Is the Concept of Globalisation Good For? An African Historian’s Perspective,” African Affairs, vol. 100, 2001, pp. 189–213.

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Islams for the benefit of a monolithic Islam cleansed of the influence of local cultures. This is the thesis of, among others, Ernest Gellner (1981)and Olivier Roy (2002),58 who both seem to look upon this phenomenon as a positive tendency. It is interesting that this image of a sole, monolithic Islam, cleansed of local cultural practices, which are conceived as bida‫( ޏ‬deplorable, misguided religious innovations), is the very goal of the propaganda of many fundamentalist tendencies in Islam, such as the WahhƗbiyya. Some modernist Muslims share the same opinion but obviously for other reasons, insofar as they judge local Islamic practices as obscurantist and therefore incompatible with modernity. The case of the East African ShƗdhiliyya (as much as other ৬uruq in other regions of the world), though, proves the opposite. The ৬arƯqa is united everywhere in its spirit and its message, yet diverse in its local manifestations.

58 Ernest Gellner, Muslim Society, Cambridge, Cambridge University Press, 1981; Olivier Roy, L’Islam mondialisé, Paris, Seuil, 2002.

CHAPTER FOUR NEW INSTITUTIONS AND AGENTS OF ISLAMIC CONVERSION AND DA‫ޏ‬WA: ISLAMIC NGOS AND MUSLIM INSTITUTIONS OF HIGHER EDUCATION IN SUB-SAHARAN AFRICA

Introduction This chapter is concerned with the following aims: to analyze the network structures that link institutions of Islamic conversion in sub-Saharan Africa to other parts of the world, especially the Middle East; to discover the sociopolitical and cultural implications behind their activities; to investigate the education and formation of the actors involved in Islamic charity by tracing, as an example, the biographical itineraries of two representatives of Islamic NGOs in Africa; and to analyze the state of affairs for these institutions after the September 11, 2001, attacks in the USA. So far, research on Islam in East Africa has focused on the Muslims of the coastal regions – the waswahili – and has neglected Muslims living in the up-country. In this chapter, the focus will be on the hinterland and the upcountry as well as on the coastal areas. Furthermore, only a few studies deal with new conversions to Islam. From their beginnings, the institutions in question in this chapter have demonstrated their noble goals of helping the poor and improving the education and the training of the region’s young Muslims. In some senses we can say that they met these objectives. However, in one way or another, they have also taken political positions, and have engaged in proselytizing activities (da‫ޏ‬wa). This ambiguous position, this kind of mixture in their activities, stems mainly from the real or perceived marginalization of Muslims in East Africa by those who govern their countries, the majority of whom are Christians. This feeling of marginalization

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that Muslims of the region have pushes them sometimes to imagine conspiracies fomented against them by churches and governments together, aimed at keeping them on the margins of progress (by depriving them modern training) and away from the sites of decision-making by the state (by denying them active citizenship). This feeling of a plot at the regional level is combined with another feeling of plot held by Muslims everywhere: a plot fomented by Western emergency aid organizations (beginning with the International Red Cross). According to Muslims, this plot consists of using emergency assistance to convert Muslims to Christianity and to dominate them politically. But this “Red Cross complex” found among Muslims everywhere and the feeling of marginalization among Muslims in East Africa are not enough as such to explain the mixture of practices of NGOs and other institutions based on Islamic values. A third factor plays a no less important role, namely the meaning of the concept of da‫ޏ‬wa (proselytizing Islam) in Islam, which is totally different from the meaning of the concept of proselytizing Christianity. In Islam, there are no specialists in mission work: there are no missionaries as there are in Christianity, but rather every Muslim is recommended to be missionary, i.e. to undertake the work of da‫ޏ‬wa. This could take the form of one Muslim counseling another who is considered to have neglected the practice of his faith to return to the right path. It could also involve a Muslim’s effort to persuade another Muslim to adhere to the version of Islam that he considers to be the right one. Finally, it could be a Muslim’s effort to convert non-Muslims to Islam. In this vein, every Muslim is a potential dƗ‫ޏ‬Ư (“missionary”). Therefore, if any Muslim who is working in an NGO carries out a converstiona da‫ޏ‬wa at the same time, that is, in the spirit of Islam, a good thing. But the rise in the 1980s of political Islam and the militancy that supported it caused great confusion. The war in Afghanistan against the Afghans and Soviet communists, the war in Kosovo and Bosnia, and finally the attacks of September 11, 2001, and their negative consequences – all these phenomena, rightly or wrongly, cast a general suspicion over the practice of da‫ޏ‬wa. Undoubtedly, all the organizations in question are Islamic in character. Yet, their names indicate that they are much more than simply faith-based organizations.They pursue two goals: first, to help and support Muslims in

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need, and second, to propagate the version of Islam the organization adheres to, i.e., to engage in da‫ޏ‬wa (al-‫ޏ‬amal al-da‫ޏ‬wƯ), with the aim of converting people to Islam. Some observers, both Muslim and nonMuslim, believe the charitable dimension to be a mere cover for the second and much more important goal of da‫ޏ‬wa. The Islamic charitable institutions described here are strongly influenced by the SalafƯs’ doctrine, by the Muslim brotherhood’s ideology and by similar Islamist groups and ideas. They differ from governmental and nongovernmental charitable organizations “in that to them the charitable work is a form of da‫ޏ‬wa, missionary effort, and part of a broader struggle to achieve a more Islamic (and therefore more just) society.”1 As ‫ޏ‬Abd alRaতmƗn ণabƯb noted in an article in al-‫ۉ‬ayƗt on November 5, 2004, when accused of supporting terrorism, the representatives of these organizations defend themselves by saying that they are being villainized and persecuted simply for supporting the spirit of ৡaতwa (awakening of Islam).2 What I intend to do here is to portray the missionary work such translocal Islamic NGOs are involved in regionally and to investigate the underlying sociopolitical implications of these activities, especially in relation to a certain form of an Islamic ideology that does not accept religious plurality.

The African Muslim Agency The African Muslim Agency is a Sunni Muslim NGO involved in charity, relief, development and da‫ޏ‬wa in Sub-Saharan Africa. It was created in 1981 by a group of Muslim Brothers (IkhwƗn al-Muslimnjn) from Kuwait. In the late 1990s the organization changed its name to Direct Aid, but most people still call it African Muslim Agency.3

1

van Bruinessen, “Development and Islamic Charities,” ISIM Review, no. 20, 2007,p. 5; Jonathan Benthall and Jérôme Bellion-Jourdan, The Charitable Crescent. Politics of Aid in the Muslim World, London, IB Tauris, 2003, especially chapters 4–7. 2 Ever since the 1970s, the term “sahwa” (awakening) has been very much en vogue to designate the activities of different Islamist movements. Because of its positive connotation, the term is mostly employed by the actors involved in these movements. 3 There is an Arabic website that has been publishing information on African Muslim Agency/Direct Aid. The website’s operators point out that the site is not run by the agency, but rather by a group of sympathizers close to the organization. The website’s name is Labbayka Ifriqiya, Arabic for “Africa, here I am, at your

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Dr ‫ޏ‬Abd al-RaতmƗn ণammnjd Sumayt, founder of the African Muslim Agency/Direct Aid, has repeatedly declared that the central aim of his organization is to provide religious (i.e., da‫ޏ‬wa), medical, social and education services to as many people as possible.4 Much like similar religious organizations, the African Muslim Agency puts the focus on religion. Its explicit aim is to propagate a particular version of Islam. The African Muslim Agency is an Islamic non-governmental foundation for charity and development (“khayriyya; tanmawiyya; ghayr তukumiyya”), created in 1981 by the Kuwaiti physician Dr ‫ޏ‬Abd alRaতmƗn ণammnjd Sumay৬. According to his leaflets5 he established the foundation after a visit to Malawi. During his trip he noticed that Malawi Muslims were living in poverty and, despite their great numbers, were not represented in decision-making posts. He thereupon decided to set up this institution with some friends. His visit to Malawi, he writes, had woken them from a slumber of indulgence and comfort and driven them to become active in some way. In almost all of the more than 40 countries where the agency is active, it is directed by Moroccan and Sudanese officials who entered the institution after an internship in Burkina Faso. Given that Moroccans and Sudanese have historically the strongest links to Sub-Saharan Africa, this choice is quite natural. Regardless of the country and the range of activities offered by the agency, there have been always at least five representatives: the administrative director (mudƯr) and four commissioners: for social affairs (Ri‫ޏ‬Ɨya ijtimƗ‫ޏ‬iyya); for medical affairs (Ri‫ޏ‬Ɨya ৢiততiyya); for da‫ޏ‬wa (Ri‫ޏ‬Ɨya service.” “Labbayka” (here I am) is a term employed for answering emphatically when one is called. It is the first word of the “Talbiya” (lit. answering of a call), the invocation made at irregular intervals by the pilgrim (তajj) to Mecca until he sees the qa‫ޏ‬ba. The entire Talbiya is “Labbayka AllƗhumma! Labbayka! Labbayka LƗ sharƯka laka labbayka. Inna al-তamda wa al-ni’mata laka wa al-mulk lƗ sharƯka laka” (Here I am, O Lord, here I am. Glory, riches and power are yours alone). Thus, with the emphatic invocation of Labbayka Ifriqiya, as it were, the African Muslim Agency answers Africa’s call and starts its mission. 4 See his article “Hakadha bada’na” (“And So, We Started”) in the pamphletcalender published by the organization in 2001, distributed as a giveaway. 5 See, among others, the interviews with Abdurrahman H. Sumayt in the journal alNun and the newspaper al-Haraka, both published December 12, 2006, at http://www.labaik-africa.org (accessed October 27, 2007 ). See also the interview: Sumayt, “Muslims Have Their Mother Teresa Too.”

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da‫ޏ‬wiyya) and for education (Ri‫ޏ‬Ɨya ‫ޏ‬ilmiyya). In countries where the agency is very active, the staff sometimes numbers up to 30 people. ‫ޏ‬Abd al-RaতmƗn ণammnjd Sumay৬ studied in Kuwait, Baghdad, England and Canada. He worked as a physician in the Department of Health and was then appointed president of the foundation’s administrative board (Ra‫ގ‬Ưs majlis al-idƗra). In an interview uploaded to www.labaik-africa.org he talks about his cultural affiliations: I have belonged to different Islamic groups: the JamƗ‫ޏ‬at al-TablƯgh, the Muslim Brotherhood (al-IkhwƗn al-Muslimnjn), the SalafƯs and many others. I owe a lot to all of them. Each has had great influence on my way of thinking. After having experienced the pleasure of helping others, particularly the most marginalized societies of Africa who often cannot supply the most basic wants I decided to choose charity work.

Thanks to his philanthropic activities in Africa, ‫ޏ‬Abd al-RaতmƗn ণ. Sumay৬ is famous and cherished both in Africa and in his native Kuwait. However, in his home country people still consider him if not a member of the Muslim Brotherhood, at least part of the general Islamist current (altayyƗr al-islƗmƯ) –although he affirms that he has abandoned politics for good and consecrated himself solely to charity work.6 In 2008, ‫ޏ‬Abd alRaতmƗn ণ. Sumay৬ received the prestigious Shaykh ণamdƗn Bin RƯshid al-Maktoum Award for Medical Sciences. The prize is donated by the Ministry for Finance and Industry of the United Arab Emirates and is usually awarded to a person, a research center or a university for an outstanding contribution in the field of medical research, in particular genetic research. However, in 2008, it was awarded to a person working in charity.7 Strictly speaking, the African Muslim Agency may not be a Muslim Brotherhood-inspired organization. Yet, it clearly belongs to the general Islamist current. This ideological orientation became obvious to me during the conversations I had with the administrators of the foundation’s East African branches. In Comoros, for instance, the institution’s local representative kindly gave me a box containing books on da‫ޏ‬wa and stickers bearing the words “The ten recommendations of the ‘martyr’ imƗm ণasan al-BannƗ” (al-WaৢƗya al-‫ޏ‬ashar li-l-imƗm al-shahƯd ণasan al6

See the above-mentioned interviews with Sumayt published on www.labaikafrica.org. 7 See the above-mentioned interview with Sumayt, “Muslims Have Their Mother Teresa Too.”

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BannƗ), the founder of the Muslim Brotherhood in Egypt. However, despite a small number of SalafƯ members, neither the organization’s founder nor the majority of its members are radical or fundmentalist Islamists.8 After the Iraqi invasion of Kuwait in 1990 the foundation moved its headquarters to Damman in Saudi Arabia. When Saddam Hussein was forced to withdraw from Kuwait, the headquarters was moved back to Kuwait. But the Damman office continued to function as a Saudi branch of the foundation. It is precisely this Saudi branch which was in charge of the activities in East Africa. Following the branch in Malawi, the institution established offices in West Africa, including in Mauritania, Guinea, Niger, Chad, Liberia, Sierra Leone, Benin, Ghana and Gabon. Both Guinea and Sierra Leone have been by far the most active West African branches of the institution. In Sierra Leone the local branch ran its own radio station, broadcasting in 17 local languages. However, the institution has been forced to reduce the range of activities due to long-lasting civil wars, in Liberia (1990–07) as well as in Sierra Leone (1997–98). In order to demonstrate the broad range of their work, the foundation’s representatives frequently mentioned certain projects they had realized in West Africa. In Niger, the foundation built an eye clinic at a cost of US$2,640; in Sierra Leone a hospital specializing in surgery; in Ghana an Anglo-Arabic secondary school; and in Gabon a Franco-Arabic secondary school. As for education in East Africa, the agency has opened a faculty of Islamic law in Thika (near Nairobi) in Kenya and a college of education in Zanzibar. Education and vocational training constitute the agency’s main fields of activity. Agency representatives attribute the fact that most key positions in African countries are held by Christians and not Muslims to better education. Christian Africans have gone through the educational system established and directed by European colonizers and Christian missionaries. For a number of reasons, Muslims were unable to benefit in the same way from this system. Hence their focus is on a better 8 The term “salafi” is derived from “al-salaf al-ৢƗliত” (pious ancestors). The Salafiyya is an Islamic school of thought which advocates a strictly literal interpretation of the fundamental Islamic texts, i.e., the Qur‫ގ‬Ɨn and the ণadƯth. In doing so, it seeks to follow the example of the first generation of Muslims (or the first three generations of Muslims), the Salaf al-ৢƗliত.

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educational system, which would permit them to attain the level of their Christian compatriots. The education provided for by the agency’s institutions differs only insofar as it offers, as well as secular teaching, an education in Islamic religious knowledge. I noted that the African Muslim Agency is also present in the up-country where I conducted my field research. It has been active in constructing mosques and primary schools, as well as in digging wells and providing medical care. Since 1994, ‫ޏ‬Abd al-RaতmƗn ণ. Sumay৬ has given much attention to the re-Islamization of the Antemoro, an ethnic group of southeast Madagascar, today numbering 500,000 people. The Antemoro are descendants of Arab sailors and traders who had come to the region in the 15th century. They have kept old manuscripts, most of which deal with magical-religious subjects, written in Arabic characters, which are called Sorabe.9 The Antemoro, who had been cut off from the Muslim world for a long time, had been Christianised by Protestant missionaries from the 19th century onwards. So far, the African Muslim Agency has built several mosques, Islamic schools, orphanages, wells and a Muslim cemetery in the region. ‫ޏ‬Abd al-RaতmƗn ণ. Sumay৬ hopes that by 2009, 51 percent of the Antemoro will have converted to Islam thanks to the organization’s missionary efforts.10

The Education of Khamis Abubakar, ImƗm in Korogwe, Working for the African Muslim Agency I would now like to trace the educational itinerary of a young African ‫ޏ‬Ɨlim who today works as a representative of the African Muslim Agency in Korogwe, a town in the Tanzanian up-country. In Korogwe the agency constructed four mosques (in 1987), a primary school (in 2000) and two cisterns. Khamis Abubakar works as an imƗm in one of the mosques and is responsible for the primary school and the cistern built on the same grounds. He lives in a house next to the school, which belongs to the agency. (There is another mosque built by al9

On the Antemoro, see especially Beaujard, Philippe, “Islamisés et systèmes royaux dans le sud-est de Madagascar,” in Pouvoirs et Etats dans l’histoire de Madagascar et du Sud-Ouest de l’Océan Indien (Omaly Sy Anio, hier et aujourd’hui), Antananarivo, 1991–92, pp. 235–286 ; Rajaonarimanana, Narivelo, Savoir arabico-malgaches: la tradition manuscrite des devins Antemoro Anakara, Paris, INALCO, 1990, p. 286. 10 See the interview with Sumayt, “Message from Madagascar.”

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ণaramayn, a Saudi Islamic Foundation, in the Mombo district by Korogwe). Khamis was born in 1964 in the city of Dodoma, where he attended a public school up to 7th grade. He told me: Like many other Muslims I was unable to continue my studies because of discrimination against Muslims under the Nyerere government. It is not possible that most Muslim students should fail 7th grade and therefore cannot continue their education; there must be a Christian conspiracy behind it.

I heard the same story from many Muslims in Tanzania whenever they complained about Muslim backwardness in comparison with Christians in the field of education and professional training. “It was at this moment that I decided to devote my life to Islamic education,” he said. After pursuing primary Islamic education in Dodoma, he went to preparatory school (i‫ޏ‬dƗdƯ) in the Egyptian center (al-Markaz al-MiৢrƯ) of Dar as-Salaam, which is directed by a branch of the Islamic alAzhar University of Cairo. He then studied at the Kisauni Islamic Institute (Ma‫ޏ‬had Kisauni al-IslamƯ) in Mombasa in Kenya, an institution founded by the Kenyan branch of the Islamic Foundation. In 2000, this institute became the Kisauni Islamic University. He stayed there for four years. In 1990 he left for Karachi, Pakistan, to continue his studies at the Abubakr Islamic University (JƗmi‫ޏ‬at AbƯbakr al-IslƗmiyya) in the faculty of ণadiths (Kuliyyat al-ণadƯth). After four years of study he returned to Tanzania. In 1996, he began teaching Islamic sciences (al-‫ޏ‬ulnjm al-islƗmiyya) at the Tanga Ma‫ޏ‬had ImƗm al-ShƗfi‫ޏ‬Ư, an institution for secondary education founded by al-ণaramayn. A year later, he was recommended by someone from Korogwe for the post of imƗm and primary school teacher, his current occupation. Better wages, for instance, may have played a part in his leaving Tanga and taking up work in Korogwe. He himself, however, claimed it was the good climate and the great need for da‫ޏ‬wa in Korogwe that account for his decision.

Discourse and Ideological Orientation of Khamis Khamis is the type of religious scholar (‫ޏ‬Ɨlim) who embraces all forms of discourse and ideological tendencies of today’s militant Islam in East Africa. He is very active in the Tanzanian Muslim movement for greater Muslim participation in the state and stronger promotion of Muslims in the

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fields of modern education and professional training. Furthermore, he completed his higher education in a SalafƯ university in Pakistan. Not only has he worked as a teacher in a Tanga-based SalafƯ school founded by alণaramayn, but he is also currently working as an official for the African Muslim Agency. Concerning the da‫ޏ‬wa in Korogwe, he acts in cooperation with the local branch of Al-Mallid (the so-called Muslim Bible Scholars). He told me that he personally sympathizes with the Tanzanian SalafƯ AnৢƗr al-Sunna movement, which has its headquarters in the city of Tanga.

Performing the Friday Sermons Khamis was so kind as to offer me a copy of the notebook containing his Friday sermons. The fact that he writes down his sermons in a book is in itself a practice that attests to the systematic spirit of this ‫ޏ‬Ɨlim. There are two ways to deliver the Friday sermon in East Africa. The traditional manner consists of reading the sermons of Ibn NubƗta in Arabic from the pulpit in the mosque (minbar). The imƗm can also give the Kiswahili translation of the sermon before or after reciting it from the minbar. There is a local edition of these sermon texts in Arabic that also gives the Kiswahili translation, published in the Tanzanian town of Moshi in 1988 as Khutuba za Ijumaa kwa Lugha ya Kiswahili by Alhaj Yusuf H. Lassenga, an ‫ޏ‬Ɨlim working for the governmental organization supposedly representing the Muslims of Tanzania, the BAKWATA. The new missionaries of Islam conduct a second form of Friday preaching. Here the sermon is given in two languages (Arabic and Kiswahili). In practice, this means that Qur‫ގ‬anic verses, hadiths and other formulas are recited in Arabic, followed by explanations and commentaries in Kiswahili. Most of the preachers improvise, without written notes at hand. Others make notes beforehand and occasionally take a look at them during their sermon. At any rate, most of the preaching is done in an improvised manner. Khamis, on the other hand, writes down his sermons almost entirely in notebooks, which he keeps in his archives, using them from time to time. The notebooks reveal that he first writes the text in Arabic and then adds an explanation and a commentary in Kiswahili, in Latin characters. The table of contents of the copy he kindly presented to me contains eight sermons with the following titles: (1) qualities and attitudes required of the

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dƗ´iya (Islamic missionary); (2) greatness of Muতammad’s community; (3) prohibition of committing sin and the explanation of its evil; (4) greatness of the Ka‫ޏ‬aba and celebration of the end of the Hijra year; (5) religious obligation of the Hijra and its different forms; (6) blessings of the Hijra month Muতarram; (7) Islam is a social necessity for human life; (8) the responsibility of man. Such titles could no doubt be found in any book written by an ‫ޏ‬Ɨlim, regardless of his version of Islam. Only through careful reading and the conversations I had with him was I able to detect his SalafƯ orientation. In order to highlight the distinctiveness of the African Muslim Agency I will now compare it with al-ণaramayn, or more precisely its East African branch. This institution is both an ally of and a rival to the African Muslim Agency.

The African Branch of al-ণaramayn Until its dissolution, al-ণaramayn (al-ণaramain) was engaged in very much the same work as the African Muslim Agency, the main difference being that al-ণaramayn put the emphasis on the propagation of SalafƯ Islam rather than on charity work. Al-ণaramayn was a charitable foundation for da‫ޏ‬wa (“Mu’assasat da‫ޏ‬wiyya”) and support for the poor (“wa ighƗthiyya”) all over the world. It was founded in 1412/1991 in Riyadh in Saudi Arabia by a group of Saudi ‫ޏ‬ulamƗ‫ގ‬. The foundation’s general meeting is presided over by Sh. Dr. ৡƗlih b. ‫ޏ‬Abd al-‫ޏ‬azƯz Ɩl al-Shaykh, minister for Islamic affairs, AwqƗf, da‫ޏ‬wa and moral instruction (wazƯr al-Shu‫ގ‬njn al-islƗmiyya wa alda‫ޏ‬wa wa-l-irshƗd). This shows clearly that the Saudi state was involved in the politics of al-ণaramayn. However, for lack of tangible proof, one can only speculate about the extent of Saudi involvement. Al-ণaramayn was in fact initially established by the Saudi ‫ޏ‬AqƯl A. al‫ޏ‬AqƯl in Quita near Karachi in 1988. Al-‫ޏ‬AqƯl had originally planned to inaugurate the organization officially on his return to Riyadh in 1991. His four years in Pakistan had been dedicated to da‫ޏ‬wa, and the support of the Afghan “jihad” against the Soviet Union. The jihadist ideology and subsequent movements that today threaten global security emerged during this period.

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From the moment of al-ণaramayn’s creation until January 2004, Sh. ‫ޏ‬AqƯl al- ‫ޏ‬Aqil held the post of general secretary. He had to resign after the organization was accused of having given financial support to the Islamic terrorist movement al-QƗ iର da. The minister of Islamic affairs and president of the foundation therefore appointed by decree Sh. DabbƗs b. Muতammad al-DabbƗs, former vice-secretary and representative of the foundation’s European branch, to the vacant post of general secretary. Al-Dabbas in turn left al-ণaramayn in July 2004 in protest against the repression of the organization, in particular the freezing of its financial assets, a measure which presented a great obstacle to its missionary activities. Al-ণaramayn was closely scrutinized by the Americans until the Saudi government finally decided on its official dissolution on 5 October 2004. The foundation was structured into different committees (lijƗn), including different regional missionary committees (for Africa, Europe, Asia and North America). In East Africa, especially in Tanzania and Kenya, alণaramayn introduced institutions for secondary Islamic studies (ma‫ޏ‬Ɨhid islƗmiyya) – in Dar as-Salaam, Tanga and Moshi (in Tanzania) and Nairobi and Mombasa (in Kenya). All of al-ণaramayn’s administrative offices in the region have been closed until further notice. The educational establishments are continuing their work but face considerable financial problems due to the temporary freezing of the institution’s bank assets. Al-ণaramayn and the African Muslim Agency fulfill almost the same tasks (digging of wells; construction of schools, medical care centers and hospitals; medical projects, and so forth). However, there are decisive differences between the two organizations. The African Muslim Agency easily adapts to the legal system of the host country, in particular with regard to the national education program. Their only request in this matter is that education should be bilingual (Anglo-Arabic or Franco-Arabic) and that Islamic studies be included as a subject. The tuition fees that education requires – albeit considerably less than in private schools – were granted without further ado. The main concern of both the African Muslim Agency and al-ণaramayn is without doubt to pursue da‫ޏ‬wa through education and the transmission of knowledge, and thus to compete with Christian missionary institutions. Yet while al-ণaramayn’s educational institutions merely transmit religious knowledge in the SalafƯ-WahhƗbƯ version, the African Muslim Agency seeks to offer both religious and secular instruction. The main goal of the African Muslim Agency is to improve the living conditions of Muslims

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and enable them to rival their Christian compatriots, with priority given to education and professional training. It is worth mentioning here the hybrid nature of these organizations, which fulfill a wide range of tasks in multiple, quite different fields. In fact, both institutions are at the same time NGOs (for development aid and combatting poverty, especially in times of civil war or natural disasters) and institutions for da‫ޏ‬wa (Islamic mission).

Bilal Muslim Mission The Bilal Muslim Mission11 is a ShƯ‫ޏ‬Ư Muslim NGO founded in Tanzania in 1964 by the Indian Shi‫ޏ‬ites of East Africa. Its aim is to spread Twelver Shi‫ޏ‬ism in East Africa and beyond, and to assist Shi‫ޏ‬ites living in poverty worldwide. The Bilal Muslim Mission was created at the tri-annual conference of the Federation of the Khoja ShƯ‫ޏ‬a IthnƗ ‫ޏ‬ashar૖ Jamaats of Africa held in the Tanzanian city of Tanga, and was officially registered in 1968. Its headquarters is in Dar as-Salaam, Tanzania. The second main office is located in Nakuru in Kenya. In both countries, the Bilal Muslim Mission also runs offices in other cities. The organization is intended to improve standards of education in general and religious education in particular among Ithna IthnƗ ‫ޏ‬ashar૖ youth, but also includes other Muslims, especially African Sunnis. It is an institution dedicated to conversion, charity and tablƯgh (a word used by the Shi‫ޏ‬Ư Muslims of the Bilal Muslim Mission in the same sense as Sunni Muslims use da‫ޏ‬wa). Its creation goes back to ‫ޏ‬Allama Sayyid Saeed Akhtar Rizvi, an ‫ޏ‬Ɨlim khoja ShƯ‫ޏ‬a IthnƗ ‫ޏ‬ashar૖12 born in 1927 in Bihar in India. In 1959 he was sent to Tanzania (Tanganyika) as dƗ‫ޏ‬Ư by the Khoja ShƯ‫ޏ‬a IthnƗ ‫ޏ‬ashar૖ Supreme Council, before becoming resident ‫ޏ‬Ɨlim of the community. 11 Jean-Claude Penrad, “Sauti ya Bilal, ou les transformations de l’islam shi’ite missionnaire en Afrique orientale,” Islam et Sociétés au sud du Sahara, no. 2, May 1988, pp. 17–33. 12 On this community, see Hatim M. Amiji, “The Asian Cmmunities,” in G. Kritzeck and W. H. Lewis (eds.), Islam in Africa, New York, Van NostrandReinhold Company, 1969, pp. 141–181; Hatim M. Amiji, “Some Notes on Religious Dissent in Nineteenth Century East Africa,” African Historical Studies, vol. 4, no. 3, 1971, pp. 603–616.; S. S. A. Rizvi and N. Q. King, “Some East African Ithna-Asheri Jamaat (1840–1976),” Journal of Religion in Africa, vol. 5, no. 1, 1973, pp. 12–22.

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It should also be mentioned that prior to Rizvi’s conversion activities there were no ShƯ‫ޏ‬Ư Muslims in East Africa apart from those of Indo-Pakistani origin. ‫ޏ‬Allama Rizvi built several Hawza-e-‫ޏ‬ilmiyya (a sort of ShƯ‫ޏ‬Ư madrasa whose main function is the training of preachers) in Tanzania and Kenya. In Dar es Salaam, for instance, the Bilal Muslim Mission runs a Hawza-e‫ޏ‬ilmiyya, a kindergarten, an elementary school, a secondary school, a school for the training of teachers and a Qur‫ގ‬anic school. These educational establishments teach Indian, African and Arab children, ShƯ‫ޏ‬Ư as well as Sunni. Today, the Bilal Muslim Mission is active in Tanzania, Kenya, Mozambique, Madagascar, Burundi, Rwanda and Congo. Furthermore, it has gained a foothold on the Caribbean Islands, and in Thailand, Indonesia, Japan, Europe and the United States. Inspired by the activities of the Bilal Muslim Mission in East Africa, several other ShƯ‫ޏ‬Ư organizations have been created in Nigeria, Senegal, Ghana, Sweden and North America. In 1996 ‫ޏ‬Allama Rizvi created the Bilal Charitable Trust of India in Gopalpur, India. Thus the Bilal Muslim Mission and its founder work simultaneously in Africa, India, Europe and North America. The Bilal Muslim Mission and the Bilal Charitable Trust of India have both become translocal ShƯ‫ޏ‬Ư organizations which operate in and through networks. The Bilal Muslim Mission uses different means of conversion: the secular and religious education in the Hawza-e-‫ޏ‬ilmiyya, conferences recorded on audio- and videotapes and sold in local markets, and the diffusion of religious writings in Kiswahili and English, most famous among which are the bimonthly periodicals Sauti ya Bilal, published in Kiswahili since 1964, and The Light, published in English since the 1980s. Among the religious publications one also has to include the 125 books written by Rizvi in Kiswahili, Arabic and English. In Kenya, the organization’s headquarters used to be in Mombasa but were later moved to Nakuru, where I conducted field research in 2004. There was also an office of the organization in the capital Nairobi which, as I was told, has been closed because of security reasons. In Tanzania, the main offices are in Dar as-Salaam, in the northern city of Arusha (headquarters of the Khoja ShƯ‫ޏ‬a IthnƗ ‫ޏ‬ashar૖ Supreme Council of Africa) and in Lindi in the south of the country.

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The majority of Indian Muslims in East Africa are Khoja. The word “khoja” is derived from the Persian “khwaja,” which means master, honorable, and was used to describe Indian converts to Ismaili ShƯ‫ޏ‬Ư Islam. In Islamic tradition, BilƗl is the name of a freed slave of Ethiopian origin who converted to Islam in Mecca at a very early stage of the Prophet Muতammad’s mission. His master, being an adversary of Muতammad, tortured him severely, inflicting the most excruciating pain in the hope he would abjure Islam, but to no avail. Abnj Bakr, one of Muতammad’s closest companions, bought BilƗl and set him free straight away. Thanks to his stentorian voice, BilƗl was made muezzin of the small Muslim community of Mecca. He followed the Prophet Muতammad to Medina, where he later served as his muezzin. According to Muhammad, BilƗl would later be muezzin in Paradise. The strong mythical and semantic charge is obvious of an institution bearing the name of BilƗl whose very goal is the conversion of black people to Islam. As far as I know, until now nothing has been written on the subject of the Bilal Muslim Mission apart from an article by J.-C. Penrad. Of the 14 pages of Penrad’s article, only the last four, strictly speaking, are dedicated to the Bilal Muslim Mission. The rest of the article gives an account of how the Khoja IthnƗ ‫ޏ‬ashar૖ split off from the Ismaili ShƯ‫ޏ‬Ư: Penrad refers to two important articles written by Hatim M. Amiji. What makes Penrad’s article interesting is the sociological and anthropological analysis he adds to the historical narration. In addition to the proselytizing activities mentioned above, the founder of the Bilal Muslim Mission began in 1964 to send young people from East Africa to Qum (Iran), Najaf (Irak) and Lebanon to study and be trained as missionary preachers of Islam in East Africa. Among them was Shaykh Idi Abdallah, whom I met in the Kenyan town of Nakuru during my field research in 2004.

Shaykh Idi Abdallah Shaykh Idi was born in 1947 in the region of the Tana River on the Kenyan coast in a small village named Masalani. He went to state school until the age of nine. Although he managed to pass 4th grade he could not continue school: his mother was too poor to pay the tuition fee. Therefore he decided to follow Islamic education.

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From 1964 to 1968 he went to the Madrasa an-Nur al-Islamiyya in Mambrui. After completing secondary education (thƗnawƯ) at this school, he started teaching in the Madrasa Munganyo al-Islamiyya in Nairobi, where he stayed until 1975. At the end of the 1970s he left Nairobi and settled down in Mombasa. The reason for his departure was that he had converted to IthnƗ ‫ޏ‬ashar૖ ShƯ‫ޏ‬Ư Islam and saw his life endangered in Nairobi, where in 1975 the WahhƗbiyya and other Sunni groups seriously threatened new ShƯ‫ޏ‬Ư converts like him. Between 1975 and 1980 he worked as a teacher in the madrasa of the Bilal Muslim Mission and also trained teachers for preparatory (i´dƗdƯ) level. In 1981 he received a scholarship permitting him to continue his studies in Teheran at a branch of the Theology Faculty of Qum. He stayed three years in Teheran and then returned to Kenya. He continued teaching and at the same time opened a shop in Mombasa. As his business started to expand and prosper he had less and less time for teaching. He left school completely and dedicated himself to commerce. In 1994 the Bilal Muslim Mission sent him to Nakuru to inaugurate the Markaz Qur‫ގ‬Ɨn Hakim in the building that today houses the office of the madrasa of the Bilal Muslim Mission. In Nakuru, Shaykh Idi managed to create a network of Africans whom he had converted to ShƯ‫ޏ‬Ư Islam. However, Shaykh Idi and his group were soon confronted with the open hostility of the Salafiyya-WahhƗbiyya of Nakuru, who went so far as to exclude them from praying at the Jamia Mosque, the city’s main mosque. The conflict lasted until reconciliation was effected in 2004. Yet even then the situation did not really improve. Most of the Ithna ‫ޏ‬ashari ShƯ‫ޏ‬Ư Muslims had stopped going to the Sunni mosque, but Shaykh Idi and some others continued to do so. During my field research in Nakuru, people would occasionally greet him hastily but otherwise refused to talk to him.

Khomeini’s Islamic Revolution and the Bilal Muslim Mission Although the Bilal Muslim Mission existed before Khomeini (1902–89) came to power in 1979, it is undeniable that the Islamic Republic of Iran, through its embassies and cultural services, managed to gain strong influence within the Bilal Muslim Mission, the IthnƗ ‫ޏ‬ashar૖ Khoja community and the Muslims of the region in general. Indeed, many of the young Sunni Muslims in the region sympathized with the Islamic

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revolution. The Iranian embassies and cultural services established their own propaganda networks in the region and at the same time gave support to the Bilal Muslim Mission and any activity of ‫ޏ‬Allama Rizvi, the most competent IthnƗ ‫ޏ‬ashar૖ dƗ‫ޏ‬Ư the region had ever seen. However, propaganda for conversion of Africans to IthnƗ ‫ޏ‬ashar૖ ShƯ‫ޏ‬Ư Islam in East Africa had started before the propaganda of the Iranian revolution set in. One gets the impression that ‫ޏ‬Allama Rizwi had started to propagate Khomeini’s Islamic vision long before the Ayatollah’s actual rise to power in Iran. Indeed, when Khomeini ordered the publication of the Swahili Islamic journal Sauti ya Umma (the voice of the people) he did nothing but imitate Rizvi’s Islamic Swahili journal Sauti ya Bilal (the voice of Bilal), which had been published since 1964. ‫ޏ‬Allama Rizvi died in Dar es Salaam on Thursday June 20, 2002, and was buried on the following Saturday. His son, Sayyid Rizvi, and the Bilal Muslim Mission have since continued his work.

Conclusion The cases presented above offer a good example of the new Islamic propaganda in Sub-Saharan Africa, in both its Sunni and its ShƯ‫ޏ‬a IthnƗ ‫ޏ‬ashar૖ versions. Both the African Muslim Agency and the Bilal Muslim Mission operate through networks and focus on educational and charitable activities as a means of conversion. Both institutions (like any similar organization) are influenced by Christian missionary activities. While the Bilal Muslim Mission has a network extending from Africa to South Asia and, to a lesser extent, Europe, the African Muslim Agency’s network links Africa and the Arab world – the Gulf States serving as the principle financial investor, while Sudan and Morocco supply the personnel working in the Agency’s African offices. In both cases, the people working in these institutions are linked through common ideas and beliefs (mental network) rather than through hierarchical administrative structures (material network). It is, then, ideas that make two different institutions such as the African Muslim Agency and al-ণaramayn cooperate on a local level, as much as it is a community of ideas that means those working in different Islamic NGOs share the same project regardless of the projects set up by their respective NGOs. Yet, contrary to what the members of Bilal Muslim Mission and African Muslim Agency believe, working in an Islamic NGO requires not only a vast knowledge of Islamic religious sciences (textual authority) – which

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they undoubtedly can claim for themselves – but also, more importantly, social skills (contextual authority). However, most of the two NGOs’ personnel lack precisely these latter skills. Hence they often find themselves in conflict with the local populations whom they are in fact supposed to help. In this chapter I have tried to analyze the activities developed by three institutions in the fields of education, development and conversion to Islam. It would be of similar interest to study the political implications of these activities in the long run. Will the work of these institutions, with the financial and ideological support of different foreign states, help to promote the integration of African Muslims within their respective nationstates, or rather alienate them even further? Will these institutions, with their Islamic proselytizing activities, stir up religious conflict in today’s Africa or not? Concerning the political implications of Islamic NGOs in Africa, M. A. Mohamed Salih, one of the few scholars in the field, asserts that “some of these NGOs have been used as a vehicle for spreading political Islam at an accelerated rate, combining propagating the faith with providing material rewards among the disenfranchised Muslim poor.”13 Yet, to my knowledge, nothing proves that the African Muslim Agency, the Bilal Muslim Mission or al-ণaramayn have an explicit political agenda or are direct agents of political Islam. NGOs based on Islamic values, as well as their counterparts based on Christian and humanist values, all have the right to assist those who are in need. This is indisputable. What one could blame the NGOs based on Islamic values (like those discussed in this chapter) for is the fact that they blend everything together. Indeed, they present themselves and declare themselves solely as NGOs based on religious (in this case Islamic) values but are engaged an the same time in proselytism. Religious proselytism is permitted; but in this case, they should declare themselves as missionary NGOs whose goal is proselytizing for Islam. However, it must be said that this blending together of aims is not peculiar to these NGOs based on Islamic values. Almost every NGO has within itself, among other factors, a political dimension. But they do not declare this openly, and we cannot know what is not publicly acknowledged. All we can do is to examine, dissect their programs and activities, in short to 13

M. A. Mohamed Salih, “Islamic NGOs in Africa. The Promise and Peril of Islamic Voluntarism,” in Alex de Waal (ed.), Islamism and Its Enemies in the Horn of Africa, London, Hurst and Company, 2004, pp. 146–181.

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unveil what is veiled. This is the job of the researcher and anyone who claims to inform and understand, and is therefore the purpose of this chapter.

Muslim Universities in East Africa This section seeks to analyze the new Islamic universities of East Africa (Tanzania, Kenya, Uganda and Sudan) which are called faith-based universities by their representatives. This label distinguishes them from classical Islamic institutions for learning, which offer only religious education. Through these universities, Muslims hope to achieve two goals. The first of these is to increase the caliber of their education so that it is in line with that of their Christian counterparts. Students of these universities hope that this will enable them to participate in the political decisionmaking of their home countries. The second goal is to educate missionaries to spread the Islamic religion and culture throughout SubSaharan Africa. In this section, I look back before the 1980s in retracing the historical origins of the Muslim universities in the region. I also examine the current situation of these universities and the achievements realized so far. Finally, I investigate the contradictions and ambivalence of these institutions as they attempt to negotiate between cultural identity and national and international challenges. Given that the universities in question were founded in recent years, they have not yet been the subject of scholarly attention. Accordingly, this section is based on information collected during fieldwork in the region. In March and April 2008, I conducted field research in the Sudanese capital of Khartoum at the campus of the International University of Africa. I conducted interviews with the university students as well as with members of both the teaching and the administrative staff. I also obtained information during informal discussions with several representatives of the university, including Professor SammƗnƯ, the president of the university, Professor S. Khuraiz, the head of the Centre for Postgraduate Studies, and Professor H. MakkƯ, the director of the Centre for African Studies. Furthermore, I talked to the students on a daily basis so that I could understand their experiences in more detail. Much of the valuable information collected for this analysis was a result of these informal discussions.

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To undertake research pertaining to the Islamic University in Uganda, I participated in an international conference on Islamic civilization in East Africa in December 2003. The one-week conference was held in Kampala, co-organized by the Islamic University in Uganda, the Organization of the Islamic Conference (OIC), and the Research Centre for Islamic History, Art and Culture (IRCICA) of Istanbul. During the conference, I obtained several documents concerning the university, courtesy of some of its representatives. The president, vice-president and former secretary general, among others, were kind enough to provide me with further information regarding the history of the university, its evolution and the future of its projects. Informal talks with the students proved equally elucidating. The conference coincided with the celebration of the 10th anniversary of the Islamic University in Uganda. I collected many documents during my stay, including a copy of the inaugural speech given by the president, Mahdi Adamu, at the opening of the conference. I also obtained a copy of the first edition of The Independent Observer (a yearbook published by the students), several issues of Together (a monthly ecumenist and interfaith magazine published by the Catholic Church of Uganda), the guidebook to the university and some of the papers given at the conference dealing with the education of Muslims in East Africa. The material at my disposal can be categorized according to the three types of circulation and authority at stake: from the outside, from above and from below. Accordingly, the material itself gives very clear indications on how I had to proceed. First, I was tasked with exploring the impact of international politics on these universities (outside); second, I would analyze the information gained from the university’s representatives (above); finally, I would integrate the data obtained from the students (below) with these findings.

Introduction The idea of creating a modern Islamic university in East Africa that would offer education in Islamic studies as well as in the modern sciences emerged in the early 1960s, when Tanzania, Kenya and Uganda gained independence. The initiative to open such a university in Dar es Salaam with the aid of the Arab-Muslim world was pushed in 1964 by the East African Muslim Welfare Society (EAMWS), which at that point was under the direction of the Agha Khan’s East Africa Provincial Education

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Councils for Ismailis.14 The EAMWS was dissolved in 1968 by the Tanzanian government, and the project was temporarily put on hold, though not forgotten. Most of the young Muslims in East Africa had little knowledge of modern science. Due to their religion, they had not been given access to the first modern schools in East Africa, most of which were directed by Christian missions.15 But, in spite of delays and obstacles, the inauguration of the first Islamic university, the Tanzanian Muslim University, was finally celebrated by Muslims from all over the country in Dar es Salaam on May 22, 2004. In Kenya a similar university does not yet exist, but there is significant demand for one among the Muslim population of the country. There has been much discussion about how to name these universities. The local Muslim communities seem to be split into those who favor a clear reference to the Islamic character of the new universities and those who support other names with less explicit religious references. By choosing a neutral name, the latter group seeks to be disassociated from classical Islamic institutions of learning. When a name bearing direct religious reference was decided upon, as in the case of the Islamic University in Uganda, it was made very clear that the new institution was a “faith-based university” and had little in common with traditional Islamic universities. In Tanzania, the new university is called the Muslim University of Morogoro. In Kenya, where the project of founding a similar university is making progress, there is ongoing debate about whether the institution will eventually be called the Coastal University or the Muslim University, or whether it will be given a different name altogether. When the Sudanese Islamist government of ‫ޏ‬Umar al-Bash૖r and ণasan alTurƗb૖ decided to transform the former Islamic African Centre of Khartoum (al-Markaz al-IslƗm૖ al-Ifr૖q૖ bi al-Khartnjm) into a university, 14

See Mohamed Said, The Life and Times of Abdulwahid Sykes (1924–1968): The Untold Story of the Muslim Struggle against British Colonialism in Tanganyika, London, Minerva Press, 1998, pp. 273–274. 15 On the role of churches and Christian missionaries in the educational system of East Africa, see, among others, John Anderson, The Struggle for the School. The Interaction of Missionary, Colonial Government and Nationalist Enterprise in the Development of Formal Education in Kenya, Nairobi, Longman Group Ltd., 1970; Tiberondwa, Missionary Teachers as Agents of Colonialism; D. G. Scanlon (ed.), Church, State and Education in Africa, New York, Columbia University, 1966.

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they named it the International University of Africa (JƗmi‫ޏ‬a Ifr૖qyƗ al‫ޏ‬Ɨlamiyya), omitting the term “Islamic.” This was a rather odd move for an Islamist regime. The overall tendency to abandon explicit religious terms for new “faith-based universities” has been gaining ground ever since the 1980s and, more importantly, after September 11, 2001, when anything Islamic acquired a negative connotation and came to be almost tantamount to fundamentalism or, worse, terrorism. Given that Tanzania’s Muslim University was only inaugurated in 2004 and is still in its beginnings, I will focus on the Islamic University in Uganda and the International University of Africa in Khartoum (Sudan).

The Islamic University in Uganda When Idi Amin initiated his politics of Islamization in Uganda, one of his first measures was to influence the OIC to choose Uganda as the location for the first Islamic university in East Africa. This was to the detriment of Kenya and Tanzania. In fact, Tanzania would have been the more obvious choice, for not only did it have the larger Muslim population, it was also the country where the idea of creating a Muslim university was first conceived during the 1960s. During the 1974 summit held in Lahore, Pakistan, the OIC had decided to establish two Islamic universities in Sub-Saharan Africa, one for the Francophone countries and the other for the Anglophone countries. The Francophone university was built in Say, a small town about 60 kilometers from the Nigerian capital, Niamey.16 Idi Amin, then president of Uganda, managed to convince the OIC to build the Anglophone Islamic university in his country.17 Saudi Arabia donated the money for its construction and King Faisal made a contribution of US$5 million to cover running costs.18 Idi Amin had cut 16 See the university’s guidebook: al-JƗmiҵa al-islƗmiyya bi al-N߼jir. Amal Ifr߼q߼ ta‫ۊ‬aqqaqa (The Islamic University in Niger. Making an African Dream Come True), Say, Niger, n.d. 17 NB: the division of Africa into francophone and anglophone points to the importance of the colonial heritage, which is acknowledged even by the OIC. 18 Mahdi Adamu, “Ten Years of the Islamic University in Uganda, 1988–1998. Achievements, Problems, and Prospects,” unpublished paper, Mbale, Uganda, n.d., p. 1; see also al-JƗmiҵa al-islƗmiyya f߼ Uganda. Amal Ifr߼q߼ ta‫ۊ‬aqqaqa (The Islamic University in Uganda. Making an African Dream Come True), Mbale, Uganda, n.d., p. 15.

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all diplomatic ties with Israel and had instead started a rapprochement with Saudi Arabia. Israel, which maintained good relations with the other countries of the region (Tanzania, Kenya and particularly Ethiopia) in competition with the Arab states for control over the waters of the Nile, the Red Sea and the Indian Ocean, thus lost an important ally to Saudi Arabia. King Faisal had begun to pay visits to Uganda and its neighboring countries and increasingly engaged in an active policy in Sub-Saharan Africa in order to counteract the influence of the Egyptian president JamƗl ‫ޏ‬Abdu al-NƗsir in the same region. However, just when construction for the university was about to start, civil war broke out in Uganda. The project was brought to a halt until Yoweri Museveni came to power in early 1986 and peace was restored. The university was finally inaugurated in 1988 in the town of Mbale, 250 kilometers northeast of the Ugandan capital of Kampala. Through his patronage for the new university, Museveni hoped to gain the support of the Muslim population while at the same time fostering reconciliation between Muslims and non-Muslims in the country. When Idi Amin was deprived of power in 1979, this put an end to pro-Muslim politics in Uganda. After Amin’s fall, Muslims were radically marginalized. Had it not been for the intervention of influential individuals like the Bugandan Prince Badru Kakunglu, interconfessional tensions might have led to massacres of Ugandan Muslims. When he was elected president, Museveni opted for reconciliation. Thus, the university was placed under the double patronage of the OIC and the Ugandan Ministry for Foreign Affairs. It therefore enjoyed certain privileges usually reserved for diplomats. From its inauguration, the Islamic University in Uganda has been administered by scholars educated in the universities of the West. During the very first months of its existence, the rector of the Islamic University in Uganda was an Indian, while the historian Abdu. B. K. Kasozi held the post of vice-rector. A native Ugandan, Kasozi was more familiar with the intricate functioning of the Ugandan state and the university system than his Indian superior and was hence the actual decision-maker. Kasozi held this position for a long time and was still in office when the Nigerian Mahdi Adamu became the rector of the university. In late 2003, Kasozi was nominated head of department at the Ugandan Ministry for Higher Education and left the university. Kasozi had been educated in Uganda and the United States and had taught in universities of both countries. His successor, Adamu, a historian educated at the

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University of Birmingham, had taught at various universities in Nigeria, and was also dean of some of these universities. The current vice-rector of the Islamic University in Uganda is Ahmed Sengedo, a native Ugandan who studied pedagogics at the University of Kansas.

The Mission of the University When the Islamic University in Uganda first opened its doors on 10 February, 1988,19 there were only two faculties for about 80 students: the Faculty of Islamic Studies and Arabic Language (FISAL) and the Faculty for Educational Studies. The first faculty consisted of three departments: Islamic Studies, Islamic Law (or Shar૖‫ޏ‬a) and Arabic Studies. The Faculty for Educational Studies comprised two departments, Science and Arts and Humanities. Three years later, in 1990/01, another department was added.20 By early 1995, the university had also opened the faculties of Agriculture, Law, Medicine, Technology and Engineering, as well as PhD programs in Economics, Literature, Linguistics and Botany, and graduate programs leading to a Master’s Degree in Islamic Studies, the Humanities, Islamic Law and Arabic Studies. Section 5 of the university’s charter and statutes describes the mission of the institution as follows: x To focus on Islamic studies and Arabic language in order to promote Islamic culture in African countries x To promote and consolidate the influence of Islamic culture and science among the populations of Africa and simultaneously strengthen inner-African solidarity x To enable African countries to acquire scientific and technological knowledge for the benefit of their populations.

19

See Mahdi Adamu, “Foreword,” The Independent Observer (Islamic University in Uganda campus magazine), vol. 1, 2003, p. 2, and, Adamu, “Ten Years of the Islamic University in Uganda,” p. 6. 20 See The Independent Observer, vol. 1, 2003, p. 8 and p. 10; Adamu, Ten Years of the Islamic University in Uganda, pp. 2–3; Al-JƗmiҵa al-islƗmiyya fi Uganda. Amal Ifr߼q߼ tahaqaq, pp. 5–6.

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Faith-Based Universities The faith-based universities must be analyzed within the larger framework of private universities, which have been spreading in developing countries, and African countries in particular, especially since the 1990s. There are several reasons for the spread of private universities. Undoubtedly, private universities are a result of the political liberalization in Africa which set in after the end of the Cold War. As a consequence, new political parties were created, new journals and radio and TV stations emerged, and new private enterprises were founded. The same applies to private universities, whether faith-based or not, and private primary and secondary schools. Private universities have many advantages over public universities. They are often smaller than their governmental counterparts and they focus on fields of study that are in great demand in the job market. They also have more funds than public universities, often owing their comfortable financial situation to money invested initially by the university’s founders, to the strict collection of tuition fees, and to accurate and efficient administration of the university’s budget. The efficient financial management of private universities is a positive element to be imitated by public universities. Likewise, public universities should focus on disciplines that promise good opportunities in the job market. However, the humanities and social sciences should not be neglected, as is often the case in many private universities. Above all else, the greatest achievement of private universities is that they have inspired a spirit of competition within the field of higher.21

Achievements In spite of all obstacles, the Islamic University in Uganda has survived until the present day. Moreover, unlike the Université Islamique du Niger, its Francophone equivalent, which still had only one faculty and one institute in 2003, the Islamic University of Uganda has been rapidly 21

For more information on private universities in Africa, see, among others, Akilagpa Sawyerr, “Challenges facing African Universities: Selected Issues,”African Studies Review, vol. 47, no. 1, 2004, pp. 1–59 ; Joel Samoff and Carrol Bidemi, “The Promise of Partnership and Continuities of Dependence: External Support to Higher Education in Africa,” African Studies Review, vol. 47, no. 1, 2004, pp. 67–199.

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growing since its inauguration, opening new faculties and giving access to more and more students. Almost all students finish their studies with a degree. Thus, of the 1,000 students who left the university in 2003 (80 percent of whom were Ugandan), 747 obtained a B.A. and 92 received an M.A. or Ph.D. The president of the university acknowledged that the number of Ugandan and non-Ugandan students should be adjusted to a ratio of 1:1, as stipulated in the university’s charter and statutes. Moreover, the president has been striving for greater diversity concerning the non-Ugandan students, hoping that their numbers will include students from at least ten different African countries in the future. By bringing together young people from different African countries, who will contribute to the future of African elites, Mahdi Adamu hopes to foster African unity. Adamu has noted that the situation regarding the ratio of men to women has improved, moving from an initial ratio of 5:1 to 3:1 in 2004.22 The Islamic University in Uganda is the first private university in the country. It was the second university built in the country, after the traditional university of Makerere.23 The creation of the Islamic University in Uganda launched a proliferation of private universities in the country, particularly Christian institutions. By 2003, there were already five private Christian universities. The authorities of the Islamic University in Uganda are proud to have been the first to open a private university in the country and consider themselves to be pioneers and reformers in the field of higher education. Furthermore, this university is the only private university to own an important income-generating property asset, the King Fahad Plaza in Kampala. Situated on Kampala Road, this six-story building was built with US$5 million by the Saudi government. The intention was that most offices of the King Fahad Plaza would be rented to private companies, which would have to pay a collective lump sum of US$5 million. During my stay in Uganda in December 2003, the building was still undergoing final construction and the different offices had not been rented. The university administration will rely heavily on the property to overcome the financial bottleneck the university has been facing, especially after the terrorist attacks of September 11, 2001. As a consequence of the attacks, 22 23

Mahdi Adamu, “Ten Years of the Islamic University in Uganda,” p. 7. Later on, the state opened another public university in Mbarara.

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the Islamic institutions of the Gulf countries were pushed by the United States to suspend most of their payments financing missionary activities (da‫ޏ‬wa) in other countries. The Islamic University in Uganda was one of the institutions affected by the financial cutbacks: after 9/11, the university received hardly any financial backing from the Gulf countries. This put the university in a rather difficult situation. Before 9/11, the Sultan ZƗyid bin Sul৬Ɨn Al NahyƗn Foundation, the Islamic International Charitable Organization (IICO) and the Kuwayt Zakat House each donated a yearly US$100,000 to the Islamic University in Uganda. In addition, every year the university received an important sum from the Islamic Development Bank, the Iqra‫ ގ‬Charitable Organization and other Islamic organizations.24 After 2001, all of these organizations suspended their financial contributions to the university. Accordingly, at the beginning of the new millennium, the university was struggling with increasing financial problems. Once again, the OIC and the Saudi government provided financial support. Among the most notable shortcomings of the university is the absence of a well-equipped university library. In terms of the syllabus, the Islamic University in Uganda does not differ much from public universities. According to Mahdi Adamu, the main difference is that it is “a faith-based institution with Islam as the only religion to be promoted.”25 Hence, it is a modern religious university much like the Catholic and Protestant universities of Uganda. According to Adamu, one advantage of the university is that it offers a solid modern education while providing spiritual and moral guidance to its students.26 One of the principles of the university is the “Islamization of knowledge.” According to this concept, the transmission of knowledge should be in line with Islamic thinking and philosophy, particularly in relation to the social sciences. According to Adamu, “Islamization of knowledge is not a program to convert people to Islam. Rather, it is an academic tool to guarantee that tawheed – that is, the belief in Allah and His laws – is applied in all disciplines and activities offered by the university.”27 In this context, it is noteworthy that the idea of the 24

Interview with the public relations officer of the university in The Independent Observer, campus magazine, Islamic University in Uganda, vol. 1, Mbale, 2003, p. 14. 25 Adamu, “Ten Years of the Islamic University in Uganda,” p. 5. 26 Ibid., p. 5–6. 27 Ibid., p. 6.

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Islamization of knowledge was very much in vogue in Malaysia in the 1990s, especially at the International Islamic University of Malaysia. It is too early to say whether the university’s policy will follow the same lines in the future or whether it will change once Adamu has retired and moves back to Nigeria, his home country.

Further Projects In 2003, the university came up with a number of ambitious projects, which included a Department of Accountancy and Finance within the Faculty of Management, and departments for Environmental Studies, Literature, Theater, Sociology and Da‫ޏ‬wa within the Faculty of Art and Humanities. Other plans concern the introduction of statistics, microbiology and biochemistry within the Faculty of Science, and The Faculty of Islamic Heritage (at-TurƗth al-IslƗm૖) decided to create a Department of Quranic Studies independent from the existing Department for Islamic Studies.

The International University of Africa-Khartoum To trace the history of the Sudanese International University of AfricaKhartoum (JƗmi‫ޏ‬a Ifr૖qyƗ al-‫ޏ‬Ɨlamiyya) one has to start with its predecessor, the Markaz al-IslƗm૖ al-Ifr૖q૖ b૖ al-Khartnjm (the Islamic African Centre of Khartoum), which was founded in 1967 in Omdurman and moved to Khartoum in 1970. The history of the center is closely linked to the political changes and the cultural reforms that set in after the fall of General Abbud’s military government in 1964. At the time, there were two main political camps, the secular Nasserists, Baathists and Communists (which roughly compromised one group) on the one hand, and the Islamists and traditionalists on the other. The latter claimed to be the harbingers of a new revival of Islam (alৢaতwa al-islƗmiyya) and thus saw fit to call for the implementation of Shar૖‫ޏ‬a law, an Islamic constitution, the creation of a modern Islamic university and a center for the formation of Islamic missionaries in Africa. Both factions agreed that Arabic should be introduced in schools and should henceforth be the only teaching language. (Sudan was one of the first Arab countries to successfully implement Arabic in its syllabus.) The idea of creating an African Islamic center was developed by a group of ‫ޏ‬ulamƗ‫ގ‬, whose ultimate goal was to propagate Islam in the countries

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neighboring Sudan.28 At the time, the focus was on Congo, Eritrea and Chad, home countries to many refugees migrating to Sudan. Following the decision to create an Islamic center, the ‫ޏ‬ulamƗ‫ ގ‬appointed a committee to be in charge of the project, chaired by Shaykh ‫ޏ‬Iwad Allah ৡƗliত, who was then mufti of Sudan. The center was officially inaugurated on November 14, 1966. Secondary education started only in July 1968. It consisted of two levels, intermediate (mutawassi৬) and secondary (thƗnaw૖). In December 1969, the new left-wing government under General Numeiry, who had come to power during the May Revolution (Thawrat MƗyu) and who had initially been hostile to any Islamic activities, closed the center. However, the new government soon realized the benefits of da‫ޏ‬wa institutions (Mu‫ގ‬assasƗt al-da‫ޏ‬wa al-islƗmiyya) such as the center. Accordingly, the government took over and reopened the center in 1970 in Khartoum. The new center was a much more ambitious project and included a mosque, several classrooms, and accommodation facilities for the teachers, student dormitories, rooms for administration staff, conference halls and a hospital unit. Naturally, this required a significant amount of money. The Sudanese government, unable to cover the costs on its own, appealed to Arab leaders for financial support. The Arab states that agreed to contribute to the center were Saudi Arabia (25 percent of the budget), Kuwait, the United Arab Emirate and Qatar (15 percent each), and Egypt, Morocco and Sudan (10 percent each).29 Libya, although a participant in the early negotiations, eventually refrained from contributing to the center. The investor states agreed on the following objective for the center: to educate Islamic missionaries who would propagate Islam, Islamic culture and Arabic on the African continent. In 1977 the center began its new classes. In the beginning, there were 60 students from Tanzania, Uganda, Eritrea, Chad and Sudan, all of whom had been granted scholarships. Some years later, there were as many as 750 students from 32 African countries. Until its transformation into a university, the center was directed by ‫ޏ‬ulamƗ‫ ގ‬active in da‫ޏ‬wa. These directors were Muতammad Aতmad YƗj૖ (1977–79); al-৫ayyib Zaynu al28

See Dal߼l al-Markaz al-IslƗm߼ al-Ifr߼q߼, IdƗrat al-i‫ޏ‬lƗm wa al-‫ޏ‬alƗqƗt al- ‫ޏ‬amma, Khartnjm, 1410 H./1989, p. 1. 29 See Dal߼l JƗmiҵa Ifr߼qyƗ al-ҵƗlamiyya, DƗr JƗmi‫ޏ‬a Ifr૖qyƗ al-‫ޏ‬Ɨlamiyya, Khartnjm, 2nd edition, 2002/1423 and 3rd edition 2006/1426, pp. 1–12; ৫Ɨriq Aতmad ‫ޏ‬UmthmƗn, “Dawr marƗkiz al-buতnjth wa ad-dirƗsƗt al-Ifr૖qiyya bi alJƗmi‫ޏ‬Ɨt as-SnjdƗniyya f૖ ta৬w૖r al-baতth al-‫ޏ‬ilm૖ bihƗ naতw qaঌƗyƗ al-muslim૖n bi Ifr૖qyƗ,” pp. 9–12, in Nadwa JƗmiҵiyya wa al-ҵamal al-islƗm߼ f߼ Ifr߼qyƗ, Khartnjm, JƗmi‫ޏ‬a Ifr૖qyƗ al-‫ޏ‬Ɨlamiyya, Khartnjm, 2004, DƗr JƗmi‫ޏ‬a Ifr૖qyƗ al-‫ޏ‬Ɨlamiyya, pp. 1–25.

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‫ޏ‬Ɩbid૖n (1979–84); IbrƗh૖m b. Muতammad Abnj ‫ޏ‬Ab‫ގ‬a, a Saudi from ImƗm Muতammad b. Sa‫ޏ‬njd University (1984–90); and ‫ޏ‬Al૖ al-Yaতy૖, who for political reasons held the post for a short time only. In the founding years, the center was dominated by Saudis who focused exclusively on an education in Arabic and Islamic sciences, which they considered to be of utmost importance. They did not offer any technical or other non-religious education since they considered this to be the responsibility of the state. Hardly any state in Sub-Saharan Africa provided education in either Islamic religious studies or in the Arabic language. Most of the center’s teachers and administrative staff, who were Sudanese to a large extent, rejected the Saudi conception of the center and successfully fought for the introduction of non-religious studies. The center would thus offer both classical Islamic and technical studies. Students could take classes on tafs૖r (Qur‫ގ‬anic exegesis) while simultaneously following professional training to become mechanics, electricians, carpenters, plumbers, accountants and so forth. Any dƗ‫ޏ‬૖ leaving the center, the directors hoped, would be an ‫ޏ‬Ɨlim as much as a craftsman. This double training was meant to enable graduates to make a living while being active in da‫ޏ‬wa. Furthermore, there were projects to offer classes in English and French, the two European languages most frequently spoken in Africa. This additional language training clearly transcended the traditional education of Muslim ‫ޏ‬ulamƗ‫ ގ‬in Africa, where an‫ޏ‬Ɨlim was typically someone who only knew of matters of religion and faith. At the time, the center did not issue a diploma for its graduate students. Those who had obtained good marks were encouraged to apply for scholarships to continue their studies abroad in one of the countries financing the center.

The Choice of Sudan There are several reasons why the Islamic African Centre was established in Sudan. In the first place, Sudan was considered both historically and geographically to be the link between the Arab world and Sub-Saharan Africa. Moreover, the level of modern Islamic education in Sudan was regarded as being the highest of all of Sub-Saharan Africa. There were several other factors that tipped the balance in favor of Sudan, including the colonial heritage of Gordon College (the predecessor of today’s University of Khartoum) and the historical ties between Sudan and Egypt, which is home to al-Azhar, an institution regarded by many as the most important institution of religious learning in the Muslim world. The fact

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that several Sudanese scholars had assisted in the construction and supervision of modern Islamic universities in Nigeria constituted another desirable quality in favor of Sudan. Finally, Sudan’s Muslim population consisted of Muslims from different regions of Africa.

The University In June 1989, General ‫ޏ‬Umar al-Bash૖r came to power in a military coup (called Thawra al-InqƗdh al-Wa৬an૖/ Revolution for National Welfare). In 1991, he transformed the Islamic African Centre of Khartoum into the International University of Africa under the influence of his new ally, the Islamist ণasan al-TurƗb૖. This transformation followed a decision taken by the Arab countries financing the center to suspend all further payments in protest at Sudan’s support for Saddam Hussein and his invasion of Kuwait in 1990.30 However, the people I interviewed assured me that the center would have been transformed into a university in any case, regardless of the geopolitical situation.31 As a matter of fact, one year after the military coup, the new regime launched a “revolution of higher education” (Thawra al-Ta‫ޏ‬l૖m al-‫ޏ‬Ɨl૖). Part of this “revolution” included the opening of universities in each of the Sudanese WilƗyas and an increase in the number of secondary schools all over the country. Apart from some institutes and university colleges, there had been only two or three universities in the country, all of them concentrated in Khartoum. Due to the lack of sufficient institutions for higher learning, the Sudanese state had been forced to provide its students with grants to continue their education abroad, which had proven to be increasingly costly.32

30

On Sudan’s somewhat ambivalent position towards the Iraqi invasion of Kuwait, see, among others, UsƗma ‫ޏ‬Al૖ Zain al-‫ޏ‬Ɩbid૖n, Siyasat as-Snjdan al-khƗrijiyya f߼ ҵAhd ‫ۊ‬uknjmat al-inqƗdh al-wa‫ܒ‬an߼. DirƗsƗt ta‫ۊ‬l߼liyya naqdiyya, Khartnjm, Maktabat ah-shar૖f al-akƗd૖miyya, 2006, p. 38–40. 31 Interviews: March 27, 2007, with Prof. Dr. SƗlim al-ণasan (University of Khartoum); March 28, 2007, with Prof. Dr. ‫ޏ‬AbdurraতmƗn Aতmad ‫ޏ‬UthmƗn (International University of Africa-Khartoum); April 1, 2007, with Prof. Dr. Sayyid Khuraiz (director for graduate studies, International University of Africa); April 2, 2007, Prof. Dr. ‫ޏ‬Al૖ SƗliত KarrƗr (director of the national archives); April 7, 2007, with UstƗdh ‫ޏ‬Abdulmaj૖d (head of the matriculation office at the CRAS, International University of Africa); April 9, 2007, with Dr. KamƗl Muতammad Jahallah (professor at the CRAS, International University of Africa). 32 Interviews: April 9, 2007, with Dr KamƗl Muতammad Jahallah (professor at the CRAS, International University of Africa); March 28, 2007, with Prof. Dr. ‫ޏ‬AbdurraতmƗn Aতmad ‫ޏ‬UthmƗn (International University of Africa-Khartoum).

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The transformation from a center into a university also affected the institution’s political shape. Before the transformation, the political mission had been hidden under the doctrine of da‫ޏ‬wa. Through the center, the Arab investor states hoped to gain more influence in all of SubSaharan Africa. This does not mean that they were not serious in propagating Islam, only that political ambitions played an increasingly important role too. By transforming the center into a university, Sudan tried to counteract these ambitions and thereby have more impact in Sub-Saharan Africa itself. Interestingly, this new strategy was introduced by the Islamist government under General ‫ޏ‬Umar al-Bash૖r and ণasan al-TurƗb૖, and not by secular politicians. This points to a certain isolationist tendency of Sudanese Islamism. In fact, many followers of ‫ޏ‬Umar al-Bash૖r and ণasan al-TurƗb૖ had been members of the Sudanese Muslim Brotherhood or had been strongly influenced by the Brotherhood. Since its rupture with the Egyptian Muslim Brotherhood in the 1980s, the Sudanese Brotherhood had become increasingly hostile to pan-Arabism.33 Thus, while still essentially conservative and pan-Islamist, their goals and focus became increasingly nationalist. Moreover, it seemed that both the ongoing conflict in South Sudan and the advent of political Islam brought Sudanese Islamists into a more pan-African perspective, with particular focus on the neighboring countries. It is noteworthy that the Islamists have thus embraced the traditional position of the AnৢƗr al-Mahd૖ toward SubSaharan Africa, which emerged in the Mahdist Revolution of 1881–85. In See also J. F. Ade Ajayi, Lameck K. H. Goma, and G. Ampah Johnson with a contribution by Wanjiku Mwotia, “University Autonomy and National Identity in Khartoum,” in J. F. Ade Ajayi (ed.), The African Experience with higher Education, Accra, The Association of African Universities in association with James Currey, London; Ohio University Press, Athens, 1996, pp. 130–133; S. B. Forojalla, “Recent Government Policy Pronouncements on Sudanese Higher Education in the Sudan,” in Higher Education Policy, Journal of the International Association of Universities, vol. 5, 1992; Yusuf Fadhl Hassan, “Some Aspects of the Development of the University System in the Sudan, with Special Reference to the University of Khartoum,” in Second International Sudan Studies Conference Papers, vol. 2, Sudan: Environment and People, held at the University of Durham, April 8–11, 1991. 33 See H. A. al-TurƗb૖, al-‫ۊ‬araka al-islƗmiyya f߼ al-SnjdƗn. Al-ta‫ܒ‬awwur wa al-kasb wa al-manhaj (The Islamic Movement in Sudan: Its Evolution, Its Achievements and Its Method), Khartoum, Ma‫ޏ‬had al-Buতnjth wa al-DirƗsƗt alijtimƗþ‫ޏ‬iyya/Institute of Research and Social Studies (IRSS), 1992/1412, pp. 264– 266.

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fact these “Mahdist” tendencies have come to dominate Sudan’s political elites. As a consequence, both the traditionally pro-Egyptian Khatmiyya brotherhood and the Arab nationalists (Baathists, Nasserists and Communists) have lost much of their influence in domestic politics, giving way to a new Sudanese nationalism. As an outcome of this new nationalism, Sudan’s foreign policy has taken a new direction, with a strong focus on pan-Islamism and pan-Africanism rather than panArabism. The International University of Africa is but one example of this new trend. However, Sudan has not abandoned its Arab foreign policy altogether. In the aftermath of Sudanese independence, Sudanese foreign policy had dominated almost exclusively by the doctrine of pan-Arabism. Ever since the 1980s, Sudan has focused more and more on its African identity, though without neglecting its Arab legacy. In 1990, during the celebration of Sudanese independence, president ‫ޏ‬Umar al-Bash૖r declared 1990 to be the year of peace and opening toward Africa. This date marks the beginning of a new chapter in Sudan’s African politics. However, the main reason behind the shift in Sudan’s African politics seems to have been the conflict in South Sudan. Before the conflict began most African countries, especially those neighboring Sudan, had been rather friendly toward the South Sudanese opposition, led by John Garang, and supported it in different ways. Thus, the Sudanese government under ‫ޏ‬Umar al-Bash૖r tried to thwart South Sudanese ambitions and strategies. The creation of the International University of Africa seems very much to have been part of Sudan’s new Africa politics.34 The decision to transform the center into a university was taken by the center’s executive committee and its president, Professor ‫ޏ‬Abdurraত૖m ‫ޏ‬Al૖ (who was in fact vice-president but had been working as temporary director). Both the Sudanese president and the Minister for Higher Education, IbrƗh૖m Aতmad ‫ޏ‬Umar al-QarrƗr, immediately approved the decision. Thus, in 1991, the International University of Africa was inaugurated.35 34

See ‫ޏ‬Al૖ Zain al-‫ޏ‬Àbid૖n, SiyƗsat as-SnjdƗn al-khƗrijiyya f߼ ҵAhd huknjmat alinqƗdh al-wa‫ܒ‬an߼. DirƗsƗt ta‫ۊ‬l߼liyya naqdiyya, pp. 33–34 and pp. 137–142. 35 See ণasan Makk૖ Muতammad Aতmad, “Al-Ab‫ޏ‬Ɨd an-nahঌawiyya li JƗmi‫ޏ‬a Ifr૖qyƗ al-‫ޏ‬Ɨlamiyya,” in Nadwat al-JƗmiҵa wa al-aҵmal al-islƗm߼ f߼ Ifr߼qyƗ, JƗmiҵa Ifr߼qyƗ al-ҵƗlamiyya, April 2–4, 2004, Khartnjm, DƗr JƗmi‫ޏ‬a Ifr૖qyƗ al-‫ޏ‬Ɨlamiyya, pp. 1–17.

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The International University of Africa shares many of the principles of its forerunner, the Markaz, though there are some major differences as well. In addition to donations from businessmen from Sudan, Yemen and the Gulf States, funding is now supplied primarily by the Sudanese government. Students from non-African countries (including those in the Arab world, Turkey, Central Asia, and South and Southeast Asia) are now also accepted. Moreover, although not founded by the OIC, the International University of Africa subscribes to the OIC’s main principles and guidelines for Islamic universities, in particular the formation of African Muslim elites able to enter the political sphere and promote Islamic culture.

Organization of the International University of Africa In 2006, approximately 5,000 students from more than 50 countries in Africa and Asia were registered at the university.36 In 2007, there were 6,199 students from 71 African and Asian countries, more than half of whom were Sudanese.37 Around 25 % of the students are women. Most, in particular the foreigners, live on campus at the expense of the university. Upon their arrival in Khartoum, students have to pass two entry exams testing their Arabic language skills and their general educational background. While nearly all applicants are accepted right away, most of the students have to attend Arabic classes in the university’s language department before taking regular courses.38 The Institute of Arabic Language (Ma‫ޏ‬had al-Lugha al-‫ޏ‬Arabiyya) of the university, founded in 1991, was in fact a new name given to the former center of Arabic (Shu‫ޏ‬ba al-Lugha al-‫ޏ‬Arabiyya) which had already existed in the days of the Markaz. Every year, the International University of Africa sends 400 new students from around 50 different countries to the Institute of Arabic Language. Depending on their knowledge of Arabic, students will be sorted into one of the three levels offered by the institute: elementary/beginner (ibtidƗ‫ގ‬૖), intermediate (mutawassi৬) and advanced (mutaqaddim). Every day, each student attends seven hours of Arabic 36 Interview March 27, 2007, with ‫ޏ‬AbdurraতmƗn Aতmad ‫ޏ‬UthmƗn, professor at the university’s Research Centre for African Studies. See also the 2006 Dalil (University Guide), p. 482. 37 Interview April 9, 2007, with Dr. KamƗl Muতammad Jahallah, professor of African languages and linguistics at the International University of Africa. 38 Interview April 20, 2007, with the director of the Institute of Arabic Language of the International University of Africa.

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classes, which are taught by the institute’s 50 language teachers, all of whom hold a diploma in teaching Arabic as a foreign language.39 The high standard of the institute becomes apparent both in discussions with the students and through articles published in the institute’s research journal.

Faculties, Research and Study Centers, and Institutes of the University In 2007, the university was comprised of the following faculties and departments: 1. Faculty of Shar૖‫ޏ‬a and Islamic Studies (Kulliyya al-shar૖‫ޏ‬a wa adDirƗsƗt al-IslƗmiyya) 2. Faculty of Educational Studies (Kulliyya at-Tarbiyya) 3. Faculty of Literature (Kulliyya al-AdƗb) 4. Faculty of Economics and Administrative and Political Science (Kulliyya al-IqtiৢƗd wa al-‫ޏ‬ulnjm al-IdƗriyya wa as-SiyƗsa) 5. Faculty of Sciences (Kulliyya al-‫ޏ‬ulnjm al-bahta wa at-Ta৬b૖qiyya) 6. Faculty of Computer Sciences and Information Technology (Kulliyya DirƗsƗt al-তasnjb) 7. Faculty of Medicine and Health Studies (Kulliyya a৬-৬ib wa al‫ޏ‬ulnjm al-ৢihiyya) 8. Faculty of Engineering (Kulliyya al-Handasa) 9. Research Centre for African Studies (Markaz al-Buতnjth wa adDirƗsƗt al-Ifr૖qiyya) 10. Institute for the Study of Natural Disasters and Refugees (Ma‫ޏ‬had DirƗsƗt al-Kawarith wa al-Laji‫ގ‬૖n) 11. Institute for Arabic Language (Ma‫ޏ‬had al-Lugha al-‫ޏ‬arabiyya) 12. Centre for Da‫ޏ‬wa and Social Development (Markaz ad-Da‫ޏ‬wa wa Tanmiya al-Mujtama‫)ޏ‬

Extra-Curricular Activities Offered by the University In addition to the above-mentioned subjects taught at the university, there are a number of extra-curricular activities offered. These present a practical training in Islamic missionary work, since the students are supposed to engage in Islamic mission in their home countries upon graduation. These activities consist mainly of conferences organized by different da‫ޏ‬wa groups and held at the university mosque. 39

Interview April 20, 2007, with the director of the Institute of Arabic Language of the International University of Africa.

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However, the most important and efficient part of the practical da‫ޏ‬wa education is the mukhayyamƗt (training camps), which are compulsory for all students. The first training camp lasts 10 days and takes place in the Khartoum region. During this time, the students attend a number of seminars where they discuss their papers, or lectures given by the professors and guest speakers. During a second camp, which lasts 20 days and is organized in one of the Sudanese provinces, students teach in the local primary and secondary schools and give sermons in local mosques.

Languages and African Cultures in These Universities Both universities were pragmatic in choosing their official language. English, the language of the former colonizer, was chosen for the Islamic University in Uganda and Arabic was chosen for the International University of Africa.40 Unfortunately, the quality of language teaching (English, Swahili, French and Hausa) is poor in both universities. In both cases, the shortage of language courses is striking, both in the European languages of French and English and in the African languages of Swahili and Hausa, which are the two languages most frequently spoken by African Muslims. Yet, even if the two official languages were taught in an adequate way, this is still not a fulfillment of the universities’ primary ambition of graduating African Muslim elites. At the International University of Africa, students without sufficient command of Arabic may, upon agreement, write their M.A. or Ph.D. in English or in any other language.41 The problem is not so much that all classes are held in Arabic, nor that the final papers are written in this language, but rather that the quality of English and French classes is substandard. The same applies to the two major African languages, Swahili and Hausa. It is important that these four languages be taught properly in order to improve language studies, which is crucial in any education. Non-Islamic cultures and religions of Africa are also not being taught in these universities. African history and cultures and Christianity in Africa should be compulsory aspects of the syllabus for every student, regardless of their chosen subject. In this regard, the universities could demonstrate a major difference in comparison with both traditional Islamic universities 40

By the same token, the Islamic University in Say, Niger, chose French as its official language. 41 See Makk૖, “Al-Ab‫ޏ‬Ɨd an-nahঌawiyya li JƗmi‫ޏ‬a Ifr૖qyƗ al-‫ޏ‬Ɨlamiyya,” p. 7.

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like al-Azhar in Cairo or the Islamic university of Medina, and secular African universities.42

Conclusion Islamic universities have raised great hopes among the Muslim populations of East Africa. Although these hopes are legitimate, Islamic universities are highly contradictory institutions. For example, the Muslim University of Tanzania, which is partly financed by a private fund donated by the country’s Muslim population and partly sponsored by the state, is in theory open to any young Tanzanian citizen with a secondary school certificate, regardless of ethnic or religious origin or affiliation. However, in practice, nearly all students are Muslim. A number of Christian Tanzanians have complained about the fact that the university takes only Muslim students, contrary to its statutes. While there may be exceptions, this critique nevertheless reveals a certain discontent and points to a general problem of religious tolerance within Islamic universities. According to its charter, the Islamic University in Uganda is a nongovernmental institution based in Uganda upon approval by the Ugandan Ministry of Foreign Affairs, which is co-director to the university. As is the case with Tanzania’s Muslim University, almost all students in the Islamic University of Uganda are Muslims. The Sudanese International African University in Khartoum is very similar to the Islamic University in Uganda in its charter and statutes, which were drawn up at the time when the university was still an institute financed by the Arab states. The current International African University, although financed to a large extent by the Sudanese state, does not admit non-Muslim students either. The contradiction of de facto religious discrimination is inherent to all of East Africa’s “faith-based universities.” Another problem is the fact that these universities are neither entirely private nor public institutions. This has direct consequences for their structure and the quality of education they offer. Moreover, these “faith-based universities” are increasingly seen as part of the predominantly desolate state of African universities in general and thus have to face the same critique and questions. Can a university truly 42

On the importance of teaching African cultures and the major African languages in African universities, see Ali Mazrui, “Towards Re-Africanising African Universities: Who Killed Intellectualiasm in the Post Colonial Era?” in DirƗsƗt Ifr߼qiyya, vol. 32, no. 20, Dhul al-qa‫ޏ‬da 1424h./2004.

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contribute to the social development of its country? What kind of knowledge must a university transmit to meet the needs of East African societies? Should a university be an integral part of, or isolate itself from, society? Can a university, which is financed by the state and private donors (including religious institutions), retain its independence? Another set of questions and critiques is linked to the current geopolitical situation and the ongoing global “war on terror.” The universities discussed in this section are accused of giving refuge to jihadists and raising new jihadist disciples. These accusations create a climate of mistrust and suspicion, which represents a serious obstacle for any scholar working on the emergence and development of Islamic universities in SubSaharan Africa. While it is true that these universities have been endorsing a certain Islamic militancy since their early days and are largely financed by institutions active in promoting Islam, Arabic-Islamic culture and the Arabic language in Sub-Saharan Africa, to accuse them of harboring militant Islamists and future jihadists is exaggerated and unjust.

The Islamic Foundation in East Africa The Islamic Foundation (al-Mu ରassasat al-IslƗmiyya) was founded in early 1960 by MaudnjdƯ in Pakistan. It opened its main office in Leicester, England. In 1963 it opened two offices in Africa: one in Lagos, Nigeria, and one in Nairobi, Kenya. Each office was autonomous in its organization and its activities, particularly regarding the collection of funds. Since 1963, Mohammad Akhtar Rao has been the director of the Islamic Foundation in Nairobi. He came to Kenya together with a group of MaudnjdƯ’s followers. Some of them had already died, when I visited the offices and educational institutions of the Foundation in Kenya in 2005. The executive committee of the foundation was formed in Kenya in 2005 by the director Mohammad Akhtar Rao, the deputy director Mohammad Akhtar Bhatti, the secretary general Ibrahim Lethome Asman, the deputy secretary general Ayub Khalid, the treasurer Abdi Farah Osman, the assistant treasurer Asad Uddin, and Shariff Chaudhry and Siraj-ur-Rahman as members without precise functions. Except for Ibrahim Lethome Asman (an African Kenyan, probably a mKikuyu) and A. F. Osman (a Kenyan-Somali), the remaining members of the executive committee were Pakistani.

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Initially, the main objective of the Islamic Foundation was to spread Islam in Africa in newspapers, pamphlets and Islamic literature, including the writings of MaudnjdƯ. In particular, it spread the quarterly al-Islam, which had stopped appearing (temporarily) in 2002. The last issue carried the title “Cold War II? The World Taken Aback. Elimination of New Crusades. The Muslim World: Is There an Islamic Problem?” By title only, we understand the ideological orientation of the magazine, which is, at the same time, the ideology of the Islamic Foundation. The magazine addressed the subjects of international politics and society from an Islamist perspective. Religious subjects also had a prominent place in the magazine. It seemed that, from the early 1980s, the foundation had received enough financial support from donors from the Gulf countries – including Saudi Arabia – to enable it to launch new da‫ޏ‬wa projects especially in the up-country. To initiate such projects in the up-country was a new trend, because previously this kind of Islamic propaganda had focused on the coastal areas only. The foundation started therefore to build mosques, hospitals and schools in the up-country (the Central Province and northwest and northeast Kenya). In the 1990s and 2000s, the foundation’s activities were concentrated in the cities of Machakos, Isiolo, Nyeri, Nanyuki, Meru, Nairobi and Mombasa. In each city, the foundation built mosques and madƗris, or other forms of Islamic school. It also built orphanages at Machakos, Nyeri and Isiolo. Isiolo had in addition a clinic. It was in fact in this latter town where the bulk of projects realized by the foundation were concentrated. In Thika (near Nairobi), the African Muslim Agency built an Islamic school of law whose management was undertaken by the Islamic Foundation. This, among other things, shows the resilience and the competence of the Islamic Foundation at building networks aiming mainly to acquire funds to enable it to achieve its da‫ޏ‬wa projects. The Islamic Foundation had established good relations with the state government especially under Arap Moi in Kenya. Evidence of this was, among other things, the construction of a mosque in the Moi Air Base with funds donated by Mr. Abdullah Zubaidi of Mombasa, and the Army (Infantry) School Mosque with funds donated by Mr. Abdul Razzaq Ali al-Yousuf al-Muzaini of Kuwait. The Islamic Foundation was friendly not only with various transnational foundations, but also with the all Sunni Islamic institutions in Kenya and in the entire subregion, whatever the Sunni version of these institutions. This adaptability was particularly illustrated

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by the good relations the foundation was able to create with the SalafƯWahhƗbƯ ideology. I asked Juma Munga, the deputy director of the Foundation in Kenya at that time, about the kind of relations the foundation had with the SalafƯWahhƗbƯ; he replied as follows: “The Islamic Foundation is non-sectarian. We agree with all Sunni Muslims. Even if it is true that sometimes we find ourselves in conflict with many of them.” He cites the example of Kisauni Center near Mombasa, where the foundation had opened an Islamic university and where certain ideological misunderstandings had surfaced time to time. The land occupied by the center and the money that built its mosque were given to the foundation by a rich Sunni, not a SalafƯWahhƗbƯ, from Mombasa. But the management of the center and the teaching were largely provided by Saudi and non-Saudi SalafƯ-WahhƗbƯ. This led sometimes to conflicts of interest. Juma mentioned the example of the celebration of mawlid (the commemoration of Prophet Muতammad’s birthday). The family of the person who donated the land and money that built the mosque in the center organizes the celebration of mawlid each year despite opposition from teachers who see it as bid‫ޏ‬a (blameworthy innovation). To avoid conflicts, Aslam Rahmat ‫ޏ‬AlƯ, the representative of the Islamic Foundation in Mombasa and administrator of the center, every year gives the students seven days of holiday without teaching during the week in which the mawlid festival is organized. In 1980, at Kisauni, the Islamic Foundation opened the doors of Kisauni Islamic Institute (Ma‫ޏ‬had Kisauni al-IslƗmƯ). In 1995, it founded the Islamic College of Kisauni (Kuliyya Kisauni al-IslƗmiyya), and in 2002 the Kisauni Islamic University (JƗmi‫ޏ‬at Kisauni al-IslƗmiyya). Thus, the Center houses the Kisauni institute (ma‫ޏ‬had), the College (kuliyya) and the University (jƗmi‫ޏ‬at). In 2002, the Kisauni Islamic Institute had 223 male students and 30 female students. As for the college, it had only 58 students. In all, the center of Kisauni had 237 internal and 74 external students. In February 2001, 13 students from the College had completed their studies, and received their diplomas during a ceremony in which the Saudi ambassador to Kenya, NabƯl b. Khalaf b. Aতmad ‫ޏ‬Ashnjr (Nabeel Ibn Khalaf Ibn Ahmad Ashur), and his chief advisor SƗmƯ JamƯl ‫ޏ‬Abd al-SalƗm HindƯ (Sami Jamil Abdussalaam Hindi) participated. Between the creation of the Kisauni Center in 1980 and the 2000s, the rector of the three institutions (institute, college and university) was the

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South Asian Shaykh SirƗj al-RahmƗn NadwƯ. He was the counterpart of Mohammad Akhtar Rao, chairman of the foundation in Kenya whose office was in the foundation’s headquarters in Nairobi. Shaykh SirƗj had been assisted since 1982 by the administrator of the center Aslam Rahmat ‫ޏ‬AlƯ, an Indo-African graduate of business studies at the University of Nairobi. Aslam’s father was an Indian from Punjab who came to settle in Kenya in 1924. He married first an Indian woman, then an African woman from the Bajuni ethnic group, and finally the mother of Aslam in 1941. Aslam Rahmat ‫ޏ‬AlƯ’s mother was the daughter of an African mother and an Indian father from Cashmere who came to East Africa in 1901 to work in the Uganda (Mombasa) Railway. Aslam told me that as a child he spoke Punjabi at home with his parents. He later married a Tanzanian woman of Khujurati (Indian) origin. At home, he told me, he speaks English, Kiswahili, Punjabi and a little bit Khujurati with his wife and children. In addition, Aslam also speaks Urdu, which he learned at school. This unassuming man, representative of the Islamic Foundation in Mombasa, was in fact the engine of the Kisauni Center. He played a pivotal role in the network construction policy that the foundation had initiated in the subregion. For example, on the initiative of the foundation, the East and Southern Africa Network of Religions for Children (ESANRC) had been initiated and had organized a first conference in Dar es Salaam from June 15 to 18, 2001. The conference had gathered together participants from 15 countries (Tanzania, Kenya, Uganda, Rwanda, Burundi, Swaziland, Lesotho, South Africa, Namibia, Sudan, Botswana, Zimbabwe, Zambia, Mozambique and Malawi). The delegation from the Islamic Foundation was composed of Mohammad Akhtar Rao, director of the foundation; Mohammad Salim Bwika, responsible for education, children and social assistance (welfare); Mohammad Aslam Rahmat ‫ޏ‬AlƯ, administrator of the Kisauni Center; and Mustafa Yousuf Ali, head of public relations. The conference discussed how religions can contribute to finding solutions to problems relating to disease, ignorance, poverty and armed conflict which disproportionately affect children and women. The conference was sponsored by the Arigatou Foundation of Japan and the World Conference of Religions for Children (WCRC). In Nguluni, northeast of Nairobi, the Islamic Foundation supported the DƗr al-IrshƗd Center (lit. House of the Right Direction) to train for six months the new converts, or “reverts” as they are called in East Africa. This center was established by a group of Muslims in 2000 in Nairobi, and in 2003 the

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center received financial support from a donor that enabled them to buy the land and build the center at Nguluni. This center handled only new male converts. Another similar center reserved for newly converted women was located south of Nairobi. This center, run by another group, was named the Aisha Centre. Another institution of this kind was al-FurqƗn Institute, created in 1990 to teach Islamic religious discipline to boys aged 13–14 who had left the public school at Standard Eight level, that is to say at the end of primary school. This institution had formerly been located in Nairobi at Pack Road Mosque, in a suburb of Nairobi the majority of whose inhabitants are of Somali origin. A Saudi foundation named al-IbrƗhƯm Foundation then built their new buildings in the town of Kajado, near the Tanzanian border. The institute was still there in 2005. Although the AMKENI project (Kiswahili: Wake Up) in the Mombasa region was the only training center for new converts run directly by the Islamic Foundation, it also provided support to other centers mentioned above. Since the attacks of September 11, 2001, the financial support that the Islamic Foundation received from donors in the Gulf countries, including Saudi Arabia, had largely ceased. The only financial support it continued to receive was either from local donors or from Muslims living in the West. This was why it came to initiate another way of carrying out its projects: the new method was to build schools, mosques, orphanages and clinics and share the financial burden for their management and maintenance with the beneficiary communities. Sometimes it was the communities alone who bore this burden. Until 2005, the headquarters of the Islamic Foundation in Nairobi was in the area known as the Central Business District in Mfungano Street. The building where the foundation was located was called Qur Ɨର n House, the name chosen because next to it was the office of a Protestant church whose building was called Biblia House. The Islamic Foundation thus felt it was necessary to give their building the name Qur ରƗn House. Despite the financial problems that the foundation had encountered since 9/11, in 2005 it planned to move its headquarters from the popular neighborhood where it was located to a much more prestigious district. When I visited the building three times in May 2005, the director was traveling. So I spoke with the assistant manager, Mr. Juma Munga. He was

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a man of about 33 years, a Kikuyu on his mother’s side and a Swahili on his father’s side. He spoke perfect Kiswahili and (according to him) very bad Kikuyu. The reason for this was, he told me, his socialization during childhood. His father died when he was young. The single mother had to ensure his education, and had to work at the plant in Nairobi, from which she only came home late. Meanwhile, if the young Juma was not in school, he mostly played with the children in his Swahili neighborhood. Thus, Kiswahili, the language of his long-dead father became Juma’s first language, before Kikuyu, the language of his mother. Juma studied international relations at the University of Ankara (Turkey) between 1994 and 1998. He had worked at the Islamic Foundation since December 2001. The Islamic Foundation and its institutions, including the Kisauni Centre, illustrate how an international and translocal institution of da‫ޏ‬wa worked in Sub-Saharan. The institution indeed worked with Indians, Pakistans and Africans in its administration and management, and with financial support from donors from the Gulf countries, especially from Saudi Arabia, with the aim of spreading Islam in East Africa. It exemplified a network of Muslim Arabs, Africans and Indians network working together for da‫ޏ‬wa.

The Youth Muslim Association of Kenya and the Demand for The Suppression of Terrorism Bill of 2003 The Kenyan Islamic institution most committed to the Suppression of Terrorism Bill of 2003 was the Youth Muslim Association (YMA) of Kenya, whose leaders were Abdulhamid Slatch and Abdurrahman Wandati. Abdulhamid Slatch, about 60, was a Sunni Kenyan of Indian origin, specifically from Baluchistan. His father was also born in Kenya. Abdulhamid Slatch told me that his grandfather was a soldier in the British Army during the First World War and settled with his Indian wife in Kenya at the end of the war. But he does not like, he told me, talking too much about the British military past of his grandfather. Abdulhamid Slatch worked full-time on matters concerning Kenyan Muslims. According to him, his grandfather and his father did the same and he hoped that his children would follow the same tradition. A. Slatch has no other professional concerns, meaning that his work in favor of Islam and Kenyan Muslims ensured, at the same time, enough financial recompense to feed his family. And, judging by appearances, he did not live in bad conditions.

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The YMA, the WAMY and the Jamia Mosque in Nairobi According to Abdulhamid Slatch in an interview with me in his office in Nairobi, May 4, 2004, the YMA was founded in 1964 and was one of the associations of young Muslims that founded, in 1972, the WAMY (World Assembly of Muslim Youth) in Saudi Arabia. King Faiৢal of Saudi Arabia (1905–75) had supported the creation of this institution, in his strategy to build an Islamic diplomacy in favor of his country and to counter the influence of Egypt and that of the rise of Libya under Mu‫ޏ‬ammar alGaddafi. In 2005, the WAMY consisted of about 500 Islamic youth associations and was represented in about 55 countries. From the 1970s, it was the YMA, the Kenyan branch of WAMY, that ran the Jamia Mosque in Nairobi virtually alone. Kenyan Muslims who opposed the YMA supremacy over the Jamia Mosque’s affairs did not accept the intervention of the Saudi Embassy and that of WAMY through the YMA in the affairs of Sunni Muslims in Kenya – to the extent that they sarcastically named the Jamia Mosque the “WAMY Mosque.” Normally, in every city of Kenya, Muslims are organized into autonomous associations to manage the affairs of the community. However, the YMA was successful, in most cases, in controling these associations by providing financial aid and by placing in them SalafƯ-WahhƗbƯ imƗms and ‫ޏ‬ulamƗ ର, as was the case in Nakuru. In 1969 in Garissa, in the north of the country where the population are predominantly Kenyans of Somali origin, the YMA founded an orphanage and a primary school (with more than 800 students, boys and girls). The school taught, alongside religious discipline, the program taught to children in public schools. The idea that had guided the creation of these two institutions (and also other charitable activities of the YMA) was to counter the activities of Christian missionaries in these Muslim populations. The organisation represented in Kenya by the YMA, the WAMY, was founded in 1392/1972 in Riyadh, at the end of an international conference organized by the Saudi state which brought together representatives of associations of young Muslims worldwide on the theme “Islamic student organizations, their role and the problems they face.” Needless to say, the creation of this organization was part of the strategy of Saudi Arabia to set itself up as leader of the Muslim countries, over other countries such as Egypt who claimed the same position.

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The YMA of Kenya was thus among the associations that had founded WAMY in 1972 in Saudi Arabia. And all Islamic associations in the world that were branches of WAMY received from the latter considerable financial support. When I asked Abdulhamid Slatch for information on the financial situation of his association, he said that generally the situation had become difficult since the blocking of the financial assets of charitable Islamic organizations, following anti-terrorist measures imposed by the US since 9/11. Thus, the YMA of Kenya had money problems, because the main stated objective of WAMY and its branches was the expansion of Islam and Islamic culture in the world. The YMA’s charitable activities were among the methods that helped them to achieve this goal in Kenya. It should also be noted that some Sunni Muslims I met in Nairobi were not at all satisfied with the management of the YMA, and especially with the fact that Abdulhamid Slatch (who was no longer young at all) was the irremovable head of the association. In fact the association appeared as if it was a family property: it was Abdulhamid Slatch’s father who was its founder and first manager. Having retired from the association, he gave his son the responsibility. Abdulhamid thought to do the same – that is to say, to nominate his son to be in charge of the association when he himself retired. The second responsible officer of the Association was Abdurrahman Wandati. He was a lecturer in Islamic studies in the Department of Religious Studies at the Jomo Kenyatta University of Nairobi. He had studied in Pakistan and at the Islamic University in Mbale in Uganda. From Christian parents, he converted to Islam at the age of 15 years. He was the General Secretary of the IPK (Islamic Party of Kenya), founded in January 1992, the president of which was Shaykh Khalid Balala. Wandati became not only the second responsible officer of the YMA, but also one of the first leaders of the Kenyan Muslim community. He was also the executive director of the Muslim Consultative Council. In 2005, he took leave from university and worked in Somalia with a Dutch NGO: a job that brought him more money than his job at the university. Wandati was not elected to the position he occupied in the association. He took charge because he was the most interested and engaged in the community. And, with time, he had gained experience and practice in representing all Muslims before state authorities and officials of other communities, so that the Muslim community could not do anything without his services. An

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example of this phenomenon was the fact that Wandati was the Muslim representative in the discussions and drafting of the new constitution, known as the “Boma draft.”

An‫܈‬Ɨr al-Sunna Youth of Tanga (Tanzania) This SalafƯ-WahhƗbƯ association43 was created in Tanga, its Certificate of Incorporation dated April 14, 1987, and its Certificate of Registration dated June 20, 1995. The association is a member of WAMY. Its founders were young people from Tanga who had studied in Islamic universities in Saudi Arabia. Initially they infiltrated the Tanga Association of Tanzania Muslim Youth (Umoja wa Vijana wa Kiislamu Tanzania), which already existed in the city, then they turned this association into a SalafƯ-WahhƗbƯ one under the new name of AnৢƗr al-Sunna Youth. By 2004, the association had built three kindergartens in Tanga, one in Arusha, one in Pangani, one in Muheza and one in Kigombe; and two elementary schools (which follow the program of public schools in Tanzania) in Tanga, one in Kigombe, one in Pangani, one in Muheza and one in Arusha. It also founded three high schools in Tanga, including one that followed the national curriculum while the other two (one for boys and one for girls) were Shar‫ޏ‬Ư (that is to say, religious). As for charity services, in Tanga the association ran two orphanages and one clinic and had built 10 tanks for groundwater. It ran a social service in its headquarters in “Barabara 19” (Street 19) where some needy individuals (mostly students and young families) could come to receive some cash support A project to build a university was underway and the association had already bought the land (100 hectares), in Tanga on the road to Dar es Salaam. This dynamic of expansion of Salafiyya-WahhƗbiyya Islam in Tanzania, originating in the city of Tanga, was primarily the work of one man: Shaykh SƗlim BarahiyƗn, an Afro-Arab from Tanga. He studied at the Islamic University ImƗm Ibn Sa‫ޏ‬njd in Riyadh in 1980s. He then worked in 43

On the beginning period of the Ansar al-Sunna, Abdin N. Chande, Islam, Ulamaa and Community Development in Tanzania. A Case Study of Religious Currents in East Africa, San Francisco, Austin and Winfield, 1998, chapter 6.

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the Tanzanian Embassy in Saudi Arabia, before resigning (as he told me) to devote himself completely to da‫ޏ‬wa. He then studied for some time at a university in Pakistan, where he encountered the JamƗ‫ޏ‬at al-TablƯgh (TablƯgh JamƗ‫ޏ‬Ɨt). Although he was never convinced of the da‫ޏ‬wa methods of the JamƗ‫ޏ‬at al-TablƯgh, as he said to me, he participated in Pakistan in some of its events, so he could learn how to counter it later, when he returned in Tanzania. As one could remark, in the case of AnৢƗr al-Sunna, the central action in conversion remained education (transmission of knowledge), both religious and secular, and the organization was ready to cooperate with other local or translocal institutions active in this field. For example, in regard to religious education, it cooperated with the Ma‫ޏ‬had ImƗm alShƗfƯ‫ޏ‬Ư li- i‫ޏ‬dƗd al- ର a ରimma (ImƗm al-ShƗfi‫ޏ‬Ư Institute for training imƗms), located in the Sahare district of Tanga. This institute was established by alণaramayn. AnৢƗr al-Sunna similarly cooperated with regard to secular education, with the Nur Boys (English-Arabic) Secondary School established by the African Muslim Agency. During my research stay in Tanga, and the interviews I conducted particularly with Shaykh SƗlim BarahiyƗn in June 2004, it seemed that AnৢƗr al-Sunna preferred to approach the African Muslim Agency rather than their “brother” in ideology, namely al-ণaramayn. There were several reasons, but two of them seemed particularly important: 1. After the attacks of 11 September 2001, some offices of alণaramayn were suspected of supporting terrorist activities: those in Tanzania and Kenya were among those suspected. These offices were subsequently closed and a certain Abnj Khudhaifa (an Algerian), who was responsible for al-ণaramayn in Tanga, was arrested and deported from the country. So it seemed wise for AnৢƗr al-Sunna not to maintain close relations with al-ণaramayn. 2. Because the African Muslim Agency was not suspected (at least not to the same degree as al-ণaramayn), AnৢƗr al-Sunna preferred to be closer to this organization. In addition, the African Muslim Agency focused on secular bilingual (English-Arabic) education based only on Islamic values, and this was also one of the approaches of AnৢƗr al-Sunna in its da‫ޏ‬wa activities.

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Ummu Salama, the First FemaleҵƖlim In the imagination of many ‫ޏ‬ulamƗ ର involved in da‫ޏ‬wa, Ummu Salama, one of the wives of the Prophet Muতammad, is the prototype of the female ‫ޏ‬Ɨlim.44 This is the main reason why the various Islamic schools dedicated to girls and women often bear the name of Ummu Salama. I noted this in Kisumu (Kenya) where the Institute of Islamic Studies for women was called Ma‫ޏ‬had Ummu Salama (Ummu Salama Institute), and also in Tanga (Tanzania), where the Institute of Islamic Studies for women run by AnৢƗr al-Sunna was also called Ma‫ޏ‬had Ummu Salama. Who was Ummu Salama? “Ummu Salama” was a nickname (kunya). Her real name was Hind Abnj MughƯra b. ‫ޏ‬Abdallah b. ‫ޏ‬Umar Bin Makhznjm. Her father was a wealthy merchant, who married her first to her cousin Abnj Salama b. ‫ޏ‬Abd al-Asad. The couple were among the first Meccans who had embraced Islam. Like all members of the first group of Muslims, Abnj Salama and his wife were harshly persecuted by the Meccan aristocracy, hostile to the new religion. When the persecution had reached an unbearable level, the Prophet advised the members of the first group of Muslims to emigrate to Abyssinia (Ethiopia), where there was an emperor known to be very fair. Umm Salama and her husband were among the people who followed this advice. Some of the group later returned to Mecca but continued to be the object of persecution by the Meccan aristocracy. The Prophet again ordered his disciples to leave Mecca, but this time to Yathrib (Medina). Again Umm Salama, her husband and their little boy volunteered for emigration to Medina. However, the clan of Ummu Salama prevented her and her child from going to Medina. Therefore, Abnj Salama left alone. Long after, Ummu Salama and her child were able, after the approval of the clan, to join Abnj Salama in Medina. Abnj Salama was killed at the battle of Uতud (3AH/AD625) and, some time later, his wife Ummu Salama was married to Prophet Muতammad.

44

See, among others, Ruth Roded, “Umm Salama Hind,” in P. Bearman, T. Bianquis, C. E. Bosworth, E. van Donzel, and W. P. Heinrichs (eds.), Encyclopedia of Islam, 2nd edition, Bd. 10, Leiden, Brill, 2000, S. 856. There are quite a number of writings on Ummu Salama, including traditional biographies of the companions of the Prophet (ৡahƗba) such as the I‫܈‬Ɨba and TahdhƯb al-TahdhƯb of Ibn ণajar al-‫ޏ‬AsqalƗnƯ, or the Siyar aҵlƗm al-NubalƗ ࡖ of DhahabƯ. What I have written here on Umm Salama comes mostly from my memories of what I heard said about her in various sermons.

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Apart from this story that illustrates the commitment and loyalty of Ummu Salama to Islam from its early days and to her husband, there is another episode of her biography which the Islamic historiography stresses to show her wisdom and the relevance of advice that she gave to Prophet Muতammad. It seemed also that this episode serves to illustrate an Islamic model of married life, based on love, equality between husband and wife and, above all, the respect that the husband should show to his wife. So, the ideal and model of married life, according to the apologetic Islamic discourse, was that of Ummu Salama, first with Abnj Salama, and then with the Prophet Muতammad. In the year 6AH (AD628), Prophet Muতammad, his wife Ummu Salama and some companions (ৢaতƗba) left Medina to perform the তajj to Mecca. When the Prophet and his group arrived at a place called RiঌwƗn, the Meccans prevented them from entering Mecca. The Prophet engaged in negotiations with the Meccans which led to an agreement stipulating that: x The two groups, the Medinans and the Meccans, should observe a truce of 10 years during which no restriction should prevent the movement of members of either party who wanted to go either to Mecca or to Medina. x It would be permissible for Muslims to perform the pilgrimage, the following year and only on condition that they come unarmed to Mecca. x If a Meccan converted to Islam and went to Medina, the Prophet should not accept him but should, instead, return him bak to Mecca if the Meccans demanded that. On the other hand, if a Muslim rejected Islam and returned to Mecca, the Meccans would not be required to return him back to Medina. The Prophet accepted these conditions. He then ordered the Muslims to cut their hair as if they had already made the pilgrimage. Dissatisfied with this agreement, which they considered humiliating, the Muslims refused to cut their hair, and therefore to implement the Prophet’s demand. Distraught by the disobedience of his troops, the Prophet asked Ummu Salama what to do in this case to make their companions accept his decision.

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Ummu Salama said to him, “You have first to cut your hair and they will follow your example.” The Prophet accepted her advice and cut his hair. When his companions saw that he had cut his hair, they followed his example and did the same. According to Islamic tradition, Ummu Salama reported 378 তadƯths of the Prophet. Among the wives of the Prophet, she is in the second position of precedence after ‫ޏ‬Ɩ ରisha. According to Islamic tradition Ummu Salama one day asked the Prophet why there was not a verse speaking about women. Thereafter, the Qur ରanic verse 33, al-AতzƗb, 35 was revealed.

Mu‫܈‬ҵab b. ҵUmayr: The Model of the Perfect Muslim Missionary While Ummu Salama represents in the Islamic tradition and imagination the perfect model of the woman dƗ‫ޏ‬Ư and ‫ޏ‬Ɨlim, Muৢ‫ޏ‬ab b. ‫ޏ‬Umayr fills the same role with regard to men.45 For example, in his sermon against the da‫ޏ‬wa method of the TablƯghƯ, the head of the AnৢƗr al-Sunna in Tanga (Tanzania), Shaykh SƗlim BarahiyƗn refers to Muৢ‫ޏ‬ab b. ‫ޏ‬Umayr as the one who personified in the best way the Muতammadan method of da‫ޏ‬wa. Muৢ‫ޏ‬ab b. ‫ޏ‬Umayr came from a very wealthy family in Mecca. He was very loved by his mother, who gave him all the beautiful clothes she could find for him. So Muৢ‫ޏ‬ab was known as the most elegant of all the young people of his age in Mecca. Then he converted to Islam and was among the people who formed the nucleus of disciples of the Prophet Muতammad. They would gather in secret to pray and learn the new religion. When the mother of Muৢ‫ޏ‬ab learned of her son’s conversion to Islam, she stopped providing him with what he needed, and also cut off all contact with him. However, although Mus‫ޏ‬ab subsequently fell prey to a legendary misery, he remained firm in his Islamic faith. Prophet Muতammad, who admired the strength of Mus‫ޏ‬ab’s faith and beliefs, sent him to Medina before the migration (Hijra) he would later perform with his companions. He sent him to teach the Medinans the Qur ରƗn and Islamic precepts, the first Medinan converts to Islam having asked him to send someone to teach them the Qur ରƗn and Islam. In Medina, Muৢ‫ޏ‬ab went to meet the families 45

See, among others, Eduard Sachau (ed.), Ibn Saad, Biographien. Muhammeds, Seiner Gefährten und der späteren Träger des Islam bis zum Jahre 230 der Flucht, vol III, t. 1: Biographien der mekkanisschen Kämpfer Muhammeds in der Schlacht bei Bedr, Leiden, Brill, 1904, pp. 81–86.

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and clans of the city in order to convert them to Islam. He was also the one who initiated a Friday prayer during which he preached with the intention of converting people to Islam. Muৢ‫ޏ‬ab also represents, in Islamic imagination, the valiant fighter of Islam who was martyred in a highly symbolic way during the battle of Uতud in Year III of the Hejira (625).

Opponents of An‫܈‬Ɨr al-Sunna in Tanga Even though they were very active, the followers of AnৢƗr al-Sunna were not the only ones to occupy the field of da‫ޏ‬wa through Islamic teaching in Tanga. From 1962 onward, there existed in Tanga a Sunni Islamic educational institution which was anti-Salafiyya-WahhƗbiyya, namely the Madrasa al-Shamsiyya, founded by Shaykh Muতammad Ayynjb and inaugurated in June 30, 1962 by Shaykh ‫ޏ‬Umar b. Sumayt. Shaykh Muতammad Ayynjb was one of the founders of TAMTA (Tanganyika Muslim Teachers’ Association). His father had studied in Zanzibar with Shaykh Aতmad b. ৡumay৬ (the father of Saykh ‫ޏ‬Umar b. ৡumay৬) and Shaykh ‫ޏ‬Abdallah B. A. KathƯr. Thus, intellectual affiliation bound Shaykh Muতammad Ayynjb and his brother Shaykh ‫ޏ‬Abdallah Ayynjb to the ‫ޏ‬ulamƗ ର of Zanzibar. Shaykh Muতammad Ayynjb, his brothers and his followers belonged to the two ৡnjfƯ orders (৬arƯqa) ‫ޏ‬Alawiyya and QƗdiriyya at the same time. After the death of Shaykh Muতammad Ayynjb, his brother Shaykh ‫ޏ‬Abdallah Ayynjb became the director of the Madrasa al-Shamsiyya. The madrasa had recently been renovated and enlarged free of charge by an architect and Indian businessman of the ShƯ‫ޏ‬a IthnƗ ‫ޏ‬asharƯ community of Tanzania. This businessman, Abdulzakaria, was from Zanzibar but resided in Dar es Salaam. Work had started in 1999 and the inauguration took place in 2001 under the auspices of Dr. Omar Jumbe (vice-president of Zanzibar at the time). There was also a third brother, Ahmad Ayynjb, who was the secretary of the Madrasa al-Shamsiyya and TAMTA. The madrasa, which included two levels (primary and secondary), provided education to 800 students from different countries of the region (Tanzania, Kenya, Uganda, Mozambique and Comoros). There had been also other madƗris in Tanga, the most important of which were Madrasa al-zahrƗ ର and Madrasa Shamsu al-Ma‫ޏ‬Ɨrif; but all were founded by former students of the Madrasa al-Shamsiyya. The network of Madrasa alShamsiyya was not limited solely to Tanga but extended also to other

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locations in Tanzania and even Kenya. Such was the case, for example, with the network of Madrasa al-Shamsiyya, founded in Kenya by Shaykh Muতammad ‫ޏ‬AlƯ Mwanboga, a former student of Madrasa al-Shamsiyya in Tanga. He had, in fact, founded Shamsiyya Kibarani madrasa in Kenya in 1973, in the Kinondo district. And from this madrasa, other madƗris of the same type were started by alumni.46 Subsequently, a large network of madƗris al-Shamsiyya was established on the coast, with the primary goal of containing the Salafiyya-WahhƗbiyya conversion activities and those of Christian missions. These various madƗris al-Shamsiyya were established after consulting the original Madrasa al-Shamsiyya of Tanga, but sometimes also as a result of a conflict with it. But still, the new madrasa remained faithful to the tradition of the original madrasa of Tanga. This was the case, for example, with the Madrasa Shamsu al-Ma‫ޏ‬Ɨrif, opened April 29, 2004, in Tanga by Shaykh Muতammad Bakari, one of the best students of Shaykh Muতammad Ayynjb. After the death of the latter, his brother ‫ޏ‬Abdallah Ayynjb disputed Shaykh Muতammad Bakari’s right to succeed Shaykh Muতammad Ayynjb in running the madrasa. To avoid conflict, Shaykh Muতammad Bakari went to establish his own madrasa under the name Shams al-Ma‫ޏ‬Ɨrif. The members of Muতammad Ayynjb’s family were from the Segeju ethnic group, from Mnyanjani in the Tanga region.47 Shaykh Muতammad Bakari, although he was the best student of his teacher Shaykh Muতammad Ayynjb, was not from his teacher’s family or from Mnyanjani. So, to succeed him in the direction of the madrasa was impossible. Here, kinship affiliation took precedence over intellectual and spiritual affiliations. Despite all conflicts (and sometimes because of them), the tradition of the Madrasa al-Shamsiyya spread in the form of a network of several madƗris on the coast between Kenya and Tanzania. A Kenyan businessman of Yemeni origin named Bajabir built the buildings of the Madrasa Shams al-Ma‫ޏ‬Ɨrif for Shaykh Muতammad Bakari free of charge as an act of charity – namely, its mosque, the classrooms 46 See David C. Sperling, “Rural Madrasas of the Southern Kenya Coast,” in L. Brenner (ed.), Muslim Identity and Social Change in Sub-Saharan Africa, Bloomington, Indiana University Press, 1993, p. 208. 47 On the ethnic and village stratification of Tanga’s ‫ޏ‬ulamƗ ,ର see Chande, Islam, Ulamaa and Community Development in Tanzania, pp. 202–227; Abdin N. Chande, “Ulamaa and Religious Competition in a Mrima town,” Islam et Sociétés au Sud du Sahara, no. 8, November 1994, pp. 43–51.

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and the students’ dormitory. The principal commercial activity of the Bajabir family was the production of flour, a field in which the family was very influential. In fact, they had three factories in this sector: one in Kenya, one in Kampala and one in Tanga. The construction of some madƗris al-Shamsiyya with money from local businessmen shows the moral force held within their communities by such institutions and their leadership. But that at the same time it shows us also the weakness of these institutions, in that they rely heavily on the charity of these businessmen to operate. If the charity donations were to dry up, the functioning of these institutions would suffer. This vulnerability was understood by other Islamic organizations such as AnৢƗr al-Sunna, and was the reason that the latter developed commercial activities, particularly in the real estate business, to create the endogenous financing necessary for their da‫ޏ‬wa activities.

Conversion to Islam Using the Bible: The Wahubiri wa Kislamu in East Africa During my fieldwork in East Africa, I met with the main representatives of groups active in converting and reconverting the local population to Islam. In the interviews I conducted with these agents of conversion, emphasis was put on their educational and professional background. In the interviews with converts and “reverts” to Islam I focused on the gradual process of their conversion. Furthermore, I collected a number of pamphlets, tracts and audio- and videotapes sold or distributed for free for missionary purposes. Among my interviewees were members of the Wahubiri wa kislamu (Muslim Bible Scholars) movement which is at the center of this section. I also participated in their so-called “open-air preachings” (mihadhara). One of these open-air preachings was particularly impressive: a megaconference held at the soccer stadium of Tanga, Tanzania. Furthermore, I assisted in their daily open-air preachings at Uhuru Garden in Mombasa, Kenya, which take place after the al-‫ގ‬Asr prayer in the afternoon. In addition to the audio- and videotapes they produce, the Wahubiri wa kislamu publish a small amount of propaganda literature. Most of these texts are transcripts from their sermons that are written down in Kiswahili or English and sold as small booklets. However, in comparison with the vast array of audio- and videotapes, the printed material is negligible. Unlike other missionary groups active in East Africa, such as the ShƯ‫ޏ‬a

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IthnƗ ‫ޏ‬ashar૖ for instance, the Wahubiri wa kislamu focus clearly on oral forms of da‫ޏ‬wa, the sermon playing the most important role. Nevertheless, some of the booklets published by the Wahubiri wa kislamu have become “classics” within the movement. Unlike other Islamic missionary groups that focused on education as a means of conversion, the Wahubiri wa kislamu specialize in giving sermons and preaching on the streets, for example, or at markets or in football stadiums. They refer to these activities as “open-air conferences.” Their sermons consist of an “Islamic” reading of the Bible with the intention of converting Christians to Islam, hence the somewhat hybrid name “Wahubiri wa kislamu.” In this section I will first trace the emergence of this new da‫ޏ‬wa method in East Africa. I will then make the point that regardless of how negatively the Wahubiri wa kislamu interpret the Bible, the fact that they do so in front of a mixed Muslim/Christian public could be interpreted as a contribution to greater mutual understanding between the two groups. The Wahubiri wa kislamu exclusively use Swahili in their sermons and even render Qur‫ގ‬anic verses in Swahili. In this context, I will analyze the role of the vernacular (in relation to Arabic), in both Islam and Christianity, and thus also in relation to the concept of the “translatability of the (religious) message” developed by Lamine Sanneh in his book Translating the Message: The Missionary Impact on Culture. Who are the Wahubiri wa kislamu? Where and when did they emerge? What is their specific conversion and mission discourse? Not only does the content of their preaching differ from that of the sermons of traditional ‫ޏ‬ulamƗ‫ގ‬, but their performance, too, makes their preaching radically different. Furthermore, unlike traditional ‫ޏ‬ulamƗ‫ ގ‬the Wahubiri wa kislamu do not preach at the mosque, the site of Islamic preaching per se. Instead, they preach in public places. Their sermons, which are delivered in Kiswahili, consist almost exclusively of a deconstruction of biblical texts in favor of Islam and the Qur‫ގ‬Ɨn. This method, which they call comparative religion, can be considered an Islamic reading of the Bible. Whether consciously or not, the Wahubiri wa kislamu maintain a certain continuity with their former Christian faith. A similar continuity seems, in fact, to exist for most converts. In the case of the Wahubiri wa kislamu, there are two practices giving particular proof of this heritage: first, the importance the group accords to the sermon as a

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means of spreading the religious message and as a tool for conversion; and second, the practice of using vernacular languages in their sermons, even when reciting the Qur‫ގ‬Ɨn. The Wahubiri wa kislamu belong to a number of groups and movements now active in converting the people of East Africa to Islam – that is, to the version of Islam each group in turn deems to be authentic and legitimate. Their activities can be considered da‫ޏ‬wa, and although Islam does not have a missionary tradition comparable to that of Christianity, conversion and proselytizing activities are common to both.

Who Are the Wahubiri wa Kislamu? The origins of the Wahubiri wa kislamu are not quite clear. In his hitherto unpublished, somewhat polemic book Islamic Movement and Christian Hegemony. The Rise of Muslim Militancy in Tanzania 1970–2000, Mohamed Said describes the beginnings of the Wahubiri wa kislamu as follows. The particular da‫ޏ‬wa method of the Muslim Bible Scholars emerged in the town of Kigoma on the eastern shore of Lake Tanganyika during the colonial period, and consists essentially of the deconstruction of biblical texts in favor of Islam and the Qur‫ގ‬Ɨn. According to Mohamed Said, it began with a certain Shaykh Mussa Hussein, who allegedly received his knowledge from a Jew who lived in the region. In reality, the method was introduced to the region by the Ahmadiyya, who arrived there in 1934 and soon opened a main office in Tabora. They chose Tabora for their headquarters because they felt their missionary propaganda was more likely to be successful in the hinterland, given the majority of Christians living there. On the coast, in contrast, the population was predominantly Muslim. The Ahmadiyya began to publish a great deal of Islamic propaganda material in Kiswahili, which they distributed among the people in the region, especially the population of Tabora and KigomaUjiji. Their method consists of a polemical deconstruction of biblical texts, in part influenced by the Protestant street preachers active in India who were defied by the Ahmadiyya in lively polemics. They subsequently introduced the same polemic method in East Africa. As early as the 1930s, they began to translate the Qur‫ގ‬Ɨn into Kiswahili, and published the first integral Kiswahili edition in 1953. The introduction and commentaries in this translated version contain numerous negative references to the Bible. Both the commentaries and the introduction to this translation are taken from the 466-page introduction to an earlier translation, published in 1949

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by Mirza Bashir-Ud-Din Mahmud Ahmad (Khalifatul Masih II), then head of the Ahmadiyya and the son of its founder, Mirza Ghulam Ahmad. Of the Sunni Muslims who appropriated and propagated this method in East Africa, two should be mentioned here: Shaykh Amri Abedi (chief advocate of the Ahmadiyya in East Africa) and Shaykh Songoro Marjami Lweno, who did not become an Ahmadi but remained a Sunni Muslim until his death in 1989. The latter published a book in Lahore entitled Mtume Muhammad s.aw. katika Biblia (lit. The Prophet Muতammad in the Bible). He was also the teacher of Shaykh Mussa Hussein, who is now known as the master of the Wahubiri wa kislamu and the originator of their da‫ޏ‬wa method. He transmitted his knowledge to a number of disciples, the most famous of whom are Ustadh Swaleh Athumani Ngoy, M. A. Kawemba (who now lives in Oman) and the late Shaykh Ngariba Mussa Fundi, a former pastor who died in 2001. They all come from the region of Kigoma-Ujiji (around Lake Tanganyika in the west of the country). The latter two, who had for a long time preached and published together, are of Congolese/Zaire origin (through their grandfathers). According to Maallim Ally Bassaleh, the well-known imƗm of the IdrƯs Mosque in Kariakoo, Dar as Salam, in spite of longstanding conflicts between Sunni Muslims and the Ahmadiyya, considered by both Sunni and ShƯ‫ޏ‬Ư Muslims to be an un-Islamic sect, the two groups had worked together in da‫ޏ‬wa matters in the 1970s. Maallim Ally Bassaleh himself had participated in this religious joint venture. He was then part of a group of Sunni activists who cooperated with Ahmadiyya Muslims. Together they went to the market of Kariakoo to engage in disputation with the Christian preachers, who came to this predominantly Muslim area in order to convert people to Christianity by criticizing Islam. Even then, the Ahmadiyya used the Wahubiri wa kislamu method against the Christian preachers. Thus, many Sunni activists, among them Maallim Ally Bassaleh, became familiar with this method and soon adopted it for themselves. Only in the late 1970s, after joint Sunni-Ahmadi efforts had chased away all Christian preachers from Kariakoo market, did Sunni Muslims cut all ties with the Ahmadiyya movement and started to fight them. In spite of Sunni hostility toward the Ahmadiyya, the Wahubiri wa kislamu clearly derived their missionary methods from the Ahmadiyya. It is true that similar methods had already been used in disputation between local ‫ޏ‬ulamƗ‫ ގ‬and the first Christian missionaries in Zanzibar and Mombasa at the beginning of the 20th century. However, these had been rather elitist arguments largely restricted to the ‫ޏ‬ulamƗ‫ ގ‬and the

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missionaries that did not attract a wider public. To quote but one example, Godfrey Dale of the Universities’ Mission to Central Africa (UMCA) who had published the first Kiswahili translation of the Qur‫ގ‬Ɨn in 1923, was involved in rather aloof and sophisticated disputes with certain Zanzibari ‫ޏ‬ulamƗ‫ގ‬. The only missionary of the time to preach in public places such as markets was William Ernest Taylor (1856–1927) of the CMS. Yet, he was not taken seriously by the local population. Dale and Taylor seem to have been the last missionaries to engage in this kind of religious dispute in which the Qur‫ގ‬Ɨn and the Bible served as the central weapons. Comparative religion was not staged in public until the arrival of the Ahmadiyya in the early 1930s, who started to pass on this method to the Sunni Muslims of the region. The main doctrinal differences between Ahmadiyya and Sunni Muslims are that unlike Sunni Muslims, who believe Muতammad to be the “Seal of the Prophets” after whom there can be no other prophet, the Ahmadiyya consider Mirza Ghulam Ahmad (1839–1908) to be the last prophet of Islam. However, they believe Mirza Ghulam Ahmad to be only a subordinate prophet and a deputy to Muতammad, the last law-bearing prophet. In Ahmadi belief, the two eschatological figures of Jesus (‫ޏ‬Isa) or the Messiah and the Mahdi play a central role. In Sunni Islam, Jesus did not die on the cross but was transported to heaven, where he lives, to eventually return in the flesh to this earth at the end of days. The Mahdi will appear some time before the Day of Resurrection (Yawm al-Qiyama) and will then institute a kingdom of justice on earth. The Ahmadiyya believe Mirza Ghulam Ahmad to be the incarnation of both the Messiah and the Mahdi. According to Ahmadi doctrine, Jesus did not die on the cross but moved to Srinagar in Kashmir, where he died of old age. His remains are believed to be entombed in Kashmir. The alleged tomb is still a site of worship for the Ahmadiyya. It is noteworthy that they take Mirza Ghulam Ahmad’s messianic nature metaphorically, not literally. This means that Mirza Ghulam Ahmad only possesses the qualities and functions of the Messiah, i.e., his spiritual power. Even though the Ahmadiyya consider Mirza Ghulam Ahmad to be a prophet subordinate to Muতammad and without a new law or religion, in the eyes of Sunni Muslims, this is enough to make them heretics and nonMuslims.

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Organizational Structures of the Wahubiri wa kislamu In the early 1980s the Wahubiri wa kislamu founded, in Tanzania, the organization Umoja wa Wahubiri wa kislamu, which became UWAMDI (Umoja wa Wahubiri wa kislamu wa Mlingano wa Dini/Union of Muslim Preachers for Comparative Religion) in 1990. The most renowned preachers of Islam in East Africa in the early part of the 2000s were beyond doubt the Tanzanians Shaykh Ngariba Mussa Fundi and Ustadh Habib Uthman Mazinge (from the city of Mwanza). They worked together until the death of Ngariba at the beginning of the new millennium. Mazinge now works with Yahaya. Together they are the most celebrated Wahubiri wa kislamu in the region. It seems that the Wahubiri wa kislamu were also greatly influenced by the writings of Shaykh Said Musa, a former student of al-Farsy and the most prolific writer on Islam in Kiswahili. However, Shaykh Said Musa is a fervent advocate of Khomeini’s Islamic revolution. A split occurred in the Wahubiri wa kislamu between those in favor of the ShƯ‫ޏ‬a revolution and those against. The latter went on to create Al-Mallid. Hence, it is not surprising that the members of Al-Mallid are much closer today to the Salafiyya-WahhƗbiyya than to other Islamic groups. It is not the movement as such but rather individual Wahubiri wa kislamu who are increasingly becoming SalafƯ-WahhƗbƯ. Since most of them are recently converted Muslims, they tend to display a particular religious zeal and thus to embrace a strict and fundamentalist version of Islam, in this case the Salafiyya-WahhƗbiyya. The Wahubiri wa kislamu owe much of their current success to the South African Ahmed Deedat. He was the true modern precursor to the methods applied by the Wahubiri wa kislamu later on in East Africa. It began in 1981 when he was invited to give several conferences in Zanzibar and Dar es Salaam. The Wahubiri wa kislamu are also active in Kenya, especially in the main cities of Nairobi, Kisumu, Nakuru and Mombasa. Surprisingly, their presence is most visible in Mombasa. I say surprisingly because the Wahubiri wa kislamu might have been expected to focus on up-country areas (or at least the Kenyan capital of Nairobi) rather than on the coastal towns, to which Mombasa belongs. The reason is the strong Christian community up-country (Kikuyu, Luo, etc.), which the Wahubiri wa kislamu want to convert to Islam first.

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Each day after the al-‫ގ‬Asr prayer (4.30p.m.) the Wahubiri wa kislamu preach in the daily mihadharas held at the Uhuru Garden of Mombasa. Occasionally, when they are visited by Tanzanian or Ugandan colleagues, they hold their mihadhara in the Makadara ground, which is larger than Uhuru Garden. Once a month they convene a mihadhara in the hinterland of Mombasa. Every three months, they also organize a mihadhara in the up-country, where they are joined by the local Wahubiri wa kislamu, whose most famous representative is the former pastor Mahmud Karani, currently living in Kisumu. From time to time they are invited to talk to the young converts (or reverts, as they are called) who spend six months or a year in the AMKENI Centre, close to Mombasa. The center was founded by the Islamic Foundation of Kenya. Its director, Shaykh Siraj an-Nadwi, is also the head of the Kisauni Islamic University near Mombasa. In the 1980s, the Islamic Foundation established the Kisauni Islamic Institute, which became the Kisauni Islamic University in 2000. The Islamic Foundation also runs the DƗr al-IrshƗd in Nguluni close to Nairobi, which offers six months training for new converts.

The Conversion Discourse of the Wahubiri wa kislamu The conversion discourse of the Wahubiri wa Kiislamu in their open-air preaching basically implies deconstructing biblical texts in favor of Islam and the Quran. The Wahubiri wa kislamu, however, consider it correction rather than deconstruction. They claim that the Christians falsified biblical texts, stating that the prophet to succeed Jesus would be Muতammad. The text that allegedly proves this “truth,” the Gospel of Barnabas (“Injili ya Barnaba” in the Kiswahili version), has become almost the most important text in Kiswahili “Islamic” literature. It is frequently found where Islamic literature is sold in Tanzania and Kenya. The Wahubiri wa kislamu are certain that the Injili ya Barnaba was initially part of the New Testament (Kisw. Ahadi Jipya). The Wahubiri wa kislamu reject the divinity of Jesus and the story of his crucifixion, following the polemics of the famous South African Muslim preacher, Ahmed Deedat, in his book Crucifixion or Crucifiction?

Injili ya Barnaba (the Gospel of Barnabas) The major source for all texts published by the Wahubiri wa kislamu is the Gospel of Barnabas, a text well known by Muslims worldwide. Most Muslims believe the Gospel of Barnabas to be the only authentic book

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relating the life of Jesus. The four official Gospels (those according to John, Luke, Mark and Matthew respectively) are considered to be falsified. In the Gospel of Barnabas, Jesus is a human being, not the son of God or part of the Trinity. According to the Gospel of Barnabas, Jesus was simply a prophet who was preaching of the love of God, teaching charity, ritual purity, ablutions and circumcision. As for the Passion of Christ, there is a different explanation, too: the Jews had conspired to kill Jesus. Yet Jesus was saved through a divine miracle and transported to heaven. Judas, who had been transformed to look like Jesus, was crucified instead. There is also mention of the arrival of the prophet Muতammad and the advent of Islam. Part of the Gospel of Barnabas is a diatribe against St. Paul, who is considered to have corrupted and falsified Christianity (the true nature of Christianity being professed in the Gospel of Barnabas). Accordingly, the Christian religion known since the days of St. Paul is a deviation from true Christianity. In short, the Gospel conforms in many regards to the Islamic interpretation of Christianity. Overall, the structure of the text is very similar to that of the four official Gospels. The Gospel of Barnabas was translated in 1734 by George Dale in The Preliminary Discourse to the Koran. Dale refers to a Spanish version of the Gospel he had read, but believes the original version to have been written in Italian. According to Dale, this text was initially in the possession of Pope Sixtus VI (1521–90), who had hidden it in his personal library in the Vatican. Fra Marino, a monk, had discovered the text during a visit to the pope and purloined it. Even before this incident, Fra Marino had allegedly come across a text by St. Irenaeus with a similar anti-St. Paul stance that also mentioned the authority of the Barnabas Gospel. However, none of the writings of St. Irenaeus bears the slightest resemblance to the text Fra Marino claims to have read. Yet in his introduction to the English Qur‫ގ‬Ɨn, Dale maintains that the monk eventually converted to Islam after having read the Gospel. Interestingly, the Gospel is mentioned as early as the 6th century, when it figured on a list of texts condemned by the Church. This being said, at that time neither the text nor its doctrine were known. Experts believe that the pseudo-Gospel of Barnabas quoted by Dale was in fact written after the Renaissance. According to these same experts, it was written in the West. At any rate, the Gospel Dale had read does not at all correspond to the text condemned by the Church in the 6th century, i.e. well before the advent of Islam.

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The Italian version of the pseudo-Gospel of Barnabas was first discovered in the 17th century. John Frederick Cramer, a counselor to the Prussian king, acquired the manuscript in Amsterdam. He gave it to John Toland, an Irish scholar, who was the first to notice the Islamic subtext. After some meandering, the manuscript eventually reached the Austrian Hofbibliothek in Vienna. In 1977, Louis Cardaillac, a specialist in the history of alAndalus, discovered a Spanish manuscript of the pseudo-Gospel. After thorough examination, he came to the conclusion that the text was most likely written by a Muslim of al-Andalus who made a bogus conversion to Christianity after the Reconquista while secretly sticking to Islam. In a way, the Gospel of Barnabas can be considered the revenge of the underdogs. It is not entirely clear how the Gospel of Barnabas arrived in East Africa. Most probably, both the Ahmadiyya and the SalafƯ reformism of RashƯd RiঌƗ (1865–1935) are responsible for the spread of the Gospel in East Africa. We know for sure that the Ahmadiyya used certain topics from the Gospel for da‫ޏ‬wa purposes there. It is quite possible that the East African Muslim reformers of the 1930s and 1940s, such as Shaykh al-Amin bin Ali al-Mazrui of Mombasa, who died in 1947, were acquainted with the Arabic version of the Gospel. In 1908, it had been translated into Arabic under the patronage of al-Manar, a journal founded and edited by RashƯd RiঌƗ, who had a strong impact on the reformist ideas and work of Shaykh al-Amin bin Ali al-Mazrui. The leaflets and journals published by Mazrui in the 1930s and 1940s (e.g., al-Islah and Uwongozi) in fact contain a blend of themes derived from both the Gospel of Barnabas and the writings of RashƯd RiঌƗ. In the early 1990s, the Christian churches in Tanzania accused the Wahubiri wa kislamu of blasphemy (an offense according to Tanzanian law), since they had propagated the view that neither was Jesus God’s son nor had he died on the cross. The Muslims responded that, should the Christians stick to the contrary view, they themselves would be guilty of blasphemy against Islam. The Tanzanian state intervened in the polemics and forbade the open-air preachings of the Wahubiri wa kislamu. The matter was then brought to court, where it was decided that each community should have the right to believe in its respective religious doctrines and to propagate them. Nevertheless, the slightly aggressive discourse of the Wahubiri wa kislamu continues to revitalize the conflict of the 1990s from time to time, as I personally observed during my field research in the city of Korogwe in

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early June 2004. A group of Wahubiri wa kislamu from Al-Mallid’s Dar es Salaam branch had come there to organize public conferences in cooperation with their colleagues from Korogwe. After the first conference, the Christians present at the occasion went to the local police to complain about speeches they considered to be blasphemous from a Christian point of view. The police arrested the Wahubiri wa kislamu. Shortly after, however, the Al-Mallid office in Dar es Salaam intervened. The Wahubiri wa kislamu were released and were able to continue their series of conferences.

The Re-Enactment of Conversion During my field research, I also participated in one of these open-air preachings that was held in the Tanga football stadium by the Al-Mallid branch of Morogoro. What struck me most, apart from the huge number of participants who filled the stadium, was the impressive re-enactment. When the sermons were over, the new converts to Islam came onto the stage one after another to bear witness. The believers were then asked to give money or special items (kanzu or white tunics, kofia or Islamic headgear, prayer rugs, etc.) to the converts. Conversion publicity has already become a tradition. After the collective prayer in the main mosque in Nairobi (Jamaat Mosque), the imƗm often announces over the microphone the name of a person who has just converted to Islam. The new convert then takes the microphone and repeats after the imƗm the words of the Shahada (the Islamic profession of faith) in Kiswahili and occasionally in Arabic too. This is quite similar to the procedure followed in some Protestant churches, e.g. the Seventh Day Adventist Church (in Kiswahili Wa Sabati), who have often organized public disputes with the Wahubiri wa kislamu of Mombasa. The public profession of faith, where the new convert describes in front of everyone how he found salvation, is a strategy deployed in the hope of inducing others to follow suit. And yet, the majority of Muslims appreciate the Wahubiri wa kislamu. The ambience during a mihadhara (open-air preachings) is always theatrical, full of word battles and jokes. Listening to the Muslim Bible Scholars can in fact be great fun. The Muslim spectators learn a great deal about the Bible, a book they previously regarded with suspicion and prejudice, even as something impure (najisi), without knowing anything of its contents. They enjoy the occasional conversions that take place during the mihadhara and like to listen to the stories that new converts relate and the confessions they make – edifying tales on how they found the right path toward Islam. The re-enactment of

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conversion, or rather of the narrativity of conversion, affects the spectators all the more because they see those concerned constantly in the streets, at work or at the market. Sometimes, the conveners collect money for a good cause at the end of each mihadhara. This practice, which is more common among the Wahubiri wa kislamu of Tanzania than among those of Kenya, has been criticized by many Muslims. At the same time, it indicates that the Wahubiri wa kislamu have limited financial means in comparison to other organizations active in the field of conversion in East Africa. Hence, they find themselves caught between other da‫ޏ‬wa institutions such as AnৢƗr alSunna, the Islamic Foundation, and the Bilal Muslim Mission. All of them attempt to convert the Wahubiri wa kislamu to their version of Islam, which adds to the lack of organization and increases the inner tension and splits among the Wahubiri wa kislamu. Yet, each time a Wahubiri wa kislamu association splits, other small groups are created. Hence, what the Wahubiri wa kislamu lose in organization, they gain in diffusion. Thus, their methods of preaching and conversion are becoming more and more widespread. In fact, even ‫ޏ‬ulamƗ‫ގ‬ not belonging to the movement have started to use Wahubiri wa kislamu arguments and strategies in order to increase their own impact.

The Wahubiri wa Kislamu as Seen by their Detractors The Wahubiri wa kislamu have always been strongly criticized by the churches, which accused them of blasphemy toward the Christian religion. Furthermore, they allegedly stir up discord between the two religions. For the same reason they have been under close scrutiny by both the Tanzanian and the Kenyan authorities. The traditional ‫ޏ‬ulamƗ‫ގ‬, as much as the activist Muslim elites of both countries, now snub them after having supported them in the beginning. The traditional ‫ޏ‬ulamƗ‫ ގ‬reproach the Muslim Bible Scholars primarily for their feeble and inadequate knowledge of the Qur‫ގ‬Ɨn and the Islamic sciences. The Wahubiri wa kislamu allegedly talk only of the good things to be found hidden in the Bible about Islam and the Prophet Muতammad. They rarely speak of what the Qur‫ގ‬Ɨn has to say about Christianity. And with good reason: they know very little about it. However, so the criticism goes, they ought to gain a wider knowledge of Islam before preaching whatever comes into their heads. The main critique of the activist Muslim elites is that the Wahubiri wa kislamu neglect the political claims of the

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Muslim population. In fact, the Muslim activist elites, especially those of Tanzania, have been backing the Wahubiri wa kislamu because they understood the latter’s anti-Christian discourse as part of a wider (political) struggle against the alleged Christian hegemony of the Catholic Church (Kanisa lakatoliki) in Tanzania. Their support for the Wahubiri wa kislamu was thus motivated from a political rather than a religious perspective. By giving their support, Muslim activists hoped to mold the Wahubiri wa kislamu into a broader political movement acting in favor of the Islamic community. However, although they did give their consent to the cause of the Islamic community, the Wahubiri wa kislamu did not take any further interest in political activities. Their preaching had an essentially religious goal: to convert a maximum number of Christians to Islam.

Conclusion While critics of the Wahubiri wa kislamu castigate them as nothing but ignorant troublemakers, I have come to regard their activities as a factor in modernizing Islam in East Africa – notwithstanding the particular preachers and the message itself. Furthermore, I consider them to be active in promoting a better understanding between Muslims and Christians. During my field research in Tanzania and Kenya I grew aware of the fact that their activities are proof of an entirely novel type of Islamic preaching and Islamic reformism in the Muslim world. The Wahubiri wa kislamu maintain that were it not for the few falsifications added by the authors of the Gospel, the difference between the Bible and the Qur‫ގ‬Ɨn would be negligible. Regardless of these alterations, the Bible remains a sacred book for them. Even the allegedly falsified version of the Bible contains proof of the veracity of Islam. I see another important reformist element in the fact that the Wahubiri wa kislamu, much like Christian preachers, give their sermons in Kiswahili, the local language of Tanzania and Kenya. The traditional ‫ޏ‬ulamƗ‫ ގ‬in the region, however, may well preach in Kiswahili but will always render Qur‫ގ‬anic verses in Arabic first and only as a second step translate them into Kiswahili before commenting on them. The Wahubiri wa kislamu, on the other hand, recite the Qur‫ގ‬anic verse in Kiswahili and likewise the commentary. The difference may seem minimal at first. In reality, however, this is not the case, given the implications it might entail. One of these implications merits closer examination here: the use of the vernacular in the transmission of Islamic religious knowledge and in ritual

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practices. This issue is central to Lamin Sanneh’s argument in his book Translating the Message. Let me briefly sketch Sanneh’s argument here. From its very beginnings, Christianity felt the need to translate its message from Hebrew and Aramaic into Greek, and then into Latin and other languages and cultures. Hence, from the very beginning, Christianity was marked by two absences: first, of all the absence of a central binding original language, and second, the absence of a single geographic center for religious learning and a point of departure from which Christian faith could be diffused all over the world. Moreover, Jerusalem as a holy city does not have the same significance for Christians as Mecca and Medina have for Muslims. In other words, when it comes to spreading the religious message, all vernacular languages and cultures are considered equal in Christianity. As a consequence, different ethnic and cultural groups were able to appropriate Christianity easily. This explains the great diversity of expression in the Christian religion. By contrast, Islam sacralized the early religious geographic centers, Mecca and Medina, just as it sacralized the Arabic language for the Qur‫ގ‬Ɨn. Arabic is obligatory not only for the reading of the Qur‫ގ‬Ɨn but also for the course of ritual practice. According to Sanneh, this gave birth to two different concepts of mission and conversion. As a good ecumenist, Sanneh concludes that in spite of its nontranslatable scriptures and ritual practices, Islam has proved superior to Christianity in its capacity to impose the same ritual practices on all its believers throughout the world, whereas Christianity can be considered superior to Islam in terms of the diversity of vernacular languages. I agree with Sanneh on the question of language. Today, Arabic is still the central language used for the transmission of religious knowledge in Islam. Moreover, it is the only language accepted in ritual practice although there is no official commandment prohibiting the use of vernacular languages in the five daily prayers (salƗt). But I believe Sanneh is mistaken when it comes to the question of geographical centers. Mecca and Medina have at all times undoubtedly been the two principal sacred places of Islam. However, they have not always been the centers of its expansion and certainly not of religious knowledge. With regard to the significance of a single geographical center, therefore, Islam does not differ from Christianity to the extent Sanneh maintains.

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This predominance of Arabic in East Africa, and in Sub-Saharan Africa in general, has now been reinforced by a growing number of primarily SalafƯ ‫ޏ‬ulamƗ‫ގ‬, who are active in all forms of the Islamic mission. The Wahubiri wa kislamu, most of whom are converts to Islam, have little or no Arabic and thus at first preach exclusively in Kiswahili. In time they begin to recite the Qur‫ގ‬Ɨn in Arabic, similarly to the traditional ‫ޏ‬ulamƗ‫ ގ‬in the region.

CHAPTER FIVE THE ROLE OF KISWAHILI IN THE WORK OF EVANGELIZATION AND ISLAMIZATION IN EAST AFRICA

The first Protestant missions in the region were installed in the up-country and therefore began their evangelization work in the vernacular languages of the ethnic groups they wanted to convert. This included the languages of the most populous ethnic groups, such as Kihaya (of the waHaya) and Kinyamwezi (of the Wanyamwezi) in Tanzania, and Kikikuyu (of the waKikuyu) and Kiluo (of the Waluo or Wajaluo) in Kenya, as well as the idioms of the smaller ethnic groups. The use of these different vernaculars by the Lutheran missions followed the well-known logic dominant among them – namely, the Christianization of whole ethnic groups, one after another, according to the concept of Volkschristianisierung developed by the German Lutheran Gustav Warneck (1834–1910).1 The idea was to closely link the individual conversion with that of the group by focusing particularly on the language and culture of the group in question. Another German Lutheran, Bruno Gutmann (1876–1966), pushed the logic of the ethnicization of evangelization work a little further, by proposing to integrate African traditions and customs into the missionary’s work after having Christianized the Africans themselves.2 Apart from his writings on methods of evangelization, Bruno Gutmann also led intense missionary fieldwork in the Lutheran Mission of the central region of Kilimanjaro from 1903 to 1920 and then 1925 to 1939. From the beginning, therefore, 1

See G. Warneck, Evangelische Missionslehre. Ein missionstheoretischer Versuch, Gotha, Germany, Perthes, 1892; Frieder Ludwig, Church and State in Tanzania. Aspects of a Changing Relationship, 1961–1994, Leiden, Brill, 1999, p. 20. 2 See B. Gutmann, Gemeindeaufbau aus dem Evangelium. Grundsätzliches über Mission und Heimatkirche, Leipzig, Ev.-Luth. Mission, 1925; J. C. Winter, A German Approach to Social Anthropology: Bruno Gutmann (1876–1966), Oxford, Clarendon Press, 1969; E. Jaeschke, Bruno Gutmann. His Life, His Thoughts and His Work, Erlangen, Verlag der Ev.-Luth. Mission, 1985.

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these Lutheran missionaries used the languages of the ethnic groups they sought to convert. But, because they had already noticed the inevitable breakthrough within these ethnic groups of both European civilization and the supra-tribal Swahili culture (along with Swahili language) – two scarecrows whose negative influence on the indigenous tribes they feared – Christian missions resolved in the end to adopt the Swahili language as the main medium and idiom of their evangelization work. In addition, the production of instructional materials in several local languages turned out to be very expensive for them. At the same time, Johann Ludwig Krapf (1810–81) and Johannes Rebmann, two German pietists who were working in East Africa on behalf of the Anglican CMS,3 published the first systematic work for learning Kiswahili. Krapf published the first Swahili grammar in 1850, followed some time later by his Dictionary of the Swahili Language. In 1909, Krapf and Rebmann published the first translation of the New Testament into the Kiswahili variant of Mombasa, Kimvita. This translation had been preceded by one carried out by the UMCA, another Anglican mission, very active since at least 1864 in Zanzibar. Under the leadership of Edward Steere, the UMCA in Zanzibar published translations into Kiugunja, the Zanzibar variant of Kiswahili, of the New Testament in 1883 and the complete Bible in 1889. The various Protestant missions tried from 1911 on to harmonize into one version the Kimvita and Kiugunja translations of the New Testament, but they did not finish this work until 1952. The 1952 version still remains the basis of all translations into Kiswahili of the New Testament. Catholic missions were not left out in the translation of Christian texts into Kiswahili. Two of the most active missions at the time were: x The Spiritans (the Holy Ghost Fathers), who in 1864 took Bagamoyo as their center before going on, some time later, to settle in Zanzibar. The best known among their specialists in Kiswahili was Father Charles Sacleux (1856–1943). x The White Fathers, based since 1878 in the region of Tabora and those of Lake Victoria.

3

See G. H. Wilson, The History of the Universities Mission to Central Africa, London, 1936.

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As early as 1884, the Spiritans had established a language commission in which Charles Sacleux played the predominant role. It is in this context that he published his Dictionnaire français (a Swahili-French dictionary) in 1891, then his Grammaire des dialectes Swahilis in 1909. The commission also produced catechisms, Bible stories, biographies of saints, and other materials in Kiswahili.

The Qur ରƗn in Kiswahili The first translation of the Qur ରƗn into Kiswahili was undertaken in Zanzibar in 1923 by Godfrey Dale of the UMCA. However, this translation did not have enough resonance among Muslims in the region. Al-AmƯn bin ‫ޏ‬AlƯ al-MazruwƯ (1891–1947) started a second translation of the Qur ରƗn, but he died after completing only the translation of the 78 Snjra (al-Naba )ର , called ‫ޏ‬Amma by Muslims in East Africa, a reference to the first word of the Snjra.4 Some time later his son Kasim published his father’s translation. The Ahmadiyya, who arrived in Mombasa in 1934, began their translation of the Qur ରƗn into Kiswahili in 1936. They published it in 1953 under the title Qurani Tukufu (lit. The Glorious Qur ରƗn). This translation was received negatively in the ranks of Muslims in the region who considered the Ahmadiyya heretics because they claimed that Mirza Ghulam Ahmad (the founder of the sect) would be the last Prophet after Muতammad (KhƗtam al-anbiyƗ ର, lit. the seal of the prophets). In addition, the ‫ޏ‬ulamƗ ର of the region accused the Ahmadiyya of falsifying the Qur aର nic text. So it was this Ahmadiyya translation of the Qur Ɨର n that pushed Shaykh ‫ޏ‬Abdallah ৡƗliত al-Farisi (d. 1982), a disciple of al-AmƯn bin ‫ޏ‬AlƯ alMazruwƯ, to translate the Qur ରƗn into Kiswahili. In 1950 al-Farisi published some parts of his Qur Ɨର n translation, and in 1969 he published the entire translation of the Qur Ɨର n entitled Qurani Takatifu (lit. The Holy Qur ର Ɨn). This translation was funded by the Kuwaiti Ministry of AwqƗf and Islamic Affairs. It was expected that MawdnjdƯ (1903–79), the Pakistani Muslim thinker, would write the introduction to this translation. The introduction was not yet ready in 1969, but it appeared in the editions of 1974, 1980 and 1984 under the title 4

Recall that this is how Muslims in the region usually name the snjras of the Qur ରƗn: either by the first word of the snjra or by another word in the middle of the snjra. Moreover, it is also in this way that Shaykh ‫ޏ‬Abdallah al-Farisi names suras in his translation of the Qur‫ގ‬Ɨn.

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“Msingi wa Kufahamu Qurani” (lit. “the Foundation for Understanding the Qur Ɨର n”).5 Although this translation was quickly able to eclipse that of the Ahmadiyya in the field of Islamic learning, it did not change the ways in which Muslims of the region used the holy book of Islam. It neither fostered direct access to the Qur aର nic text among the faithful, nor caused a real adaptation of it to Swahili culture and language, as had been the case for the Christian Bible in the region. Translatability – in the sense that Sanneh gives to this concept when he speaks about the Bible6 – did not occur with the translation of the Qur ରƗn into Kiswahili. East African Muslims continue to teach the commentary on the Qur ରƗn (tafsƯr) in madƗris and in mosques using the tafsƯr al-JalƗlayn7 and not Shaykh al-Farisi’s translation of the Qur ରƗn. At the time of my field research, this fact had not greatly changed. This was especially because the majority of the ‫ޏ‬ulamƗ ର who taught Islamic studies, in which commentary on the Qur ରƗn (tafsƯr al-Qur ର Ɨn) was an important discipline, were SalafƯ-WahhƗbƯ. These latter transmit their Islamic knowledge in Arabic, especially the tafsƯr, which they believe people can only understand properly in its original language. In the summer of 2004 and during the months of March, April and May 2005, during my field research in Tanzania and Kenya, I sought to understand the real impact of Shaykh ‫ޏ‬Abdallah al-Farisi’s Kiswahili translation of the Qur ରƗn in the daily lives of Muslims. First, it was not easy for me to get a copy of this translation from bookstores and other places selling Islamic literature in the streets of Dar es Salaam and Mombasa and around the main mosque of Nairobi (the Jamia Mosque). Everywhere in Dar es Salaam, including in Kariakoo where the majority of Muslims in the city resided, I could not find this translation. Finally, I found one copy in available from a seller 5

See Justo Lacunza Balda, “The Role of Kiswahili in East African Islam,” in Louis Brenner (ed.), Muslim Identity and Social Change in Sub-Saharan Africa, Bloomington, Indiana University Press, 1993, pp. 226–238. 6 Lamin Sanneh, Translating the Message. The Missionary Impact on Culture, New York, Orbis Books, Maryknoll, 2004. 7 The TafsƯr of the two JalƗl: JalƗl al-DƯn al-MaতallƯ (m. 1459) and JalƗl al-DƯn alৡuynj৬Ư (1445–1505). This tafsƯr remains the most widely used in learning Qur‫ގ‬anic commentary throughout the Muslim world. Al-MaতallƯ began the writing of this tafsƯr, but he died before he finished it. Fortunately al-ৡuynj৬Ư continued and finished it.

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located near Ngazija Mosque in the Asian district (Mtaya wa Asia). Moreover, generally, in homes of the majority of Muslims in the region, you might find a copy of the Qur ରƗn in Arabic and a copy of Mawlid albarzanjƯ in Arabic and in Kiswahil,i but not the translation of the Qur ରƗn into Kiswahili by ‫ޏ‬Abdallah al-Farisi. In fact, those in the region who did read, or rather consult, al-Farisi’s translation were educated Muslims, more or less politicized, trained in Western school and university systems. They already appreciated the author because of his criticism of certain Islamic practices in the region (such as mawlid, funerals, etc.) considered by him to be bida‫( ޏ‬sing. bid‫ޏ‬a, a misguided religious innovation) and therefore non-Islamic. The educated Muslims in question were also against such practices, not from a religious perspective but rather because they judged them unfit for the Islam conformed to modernity which they were calling for. The Qur ରanic verses they quoted in their articles in their journals in Kiswahili in Tanzania, such as al-Nur, Nasaha and al-Huda, were taken from ‫ޏ‬Abdallah al-Farisi’s translation. The reception of al-Farisi’s translation has to be understood in light of the controversy that it raised at its first publication. Indeed, since the first appearance of this translation in 1969, three groups of Muslims had openly spoken against it: the maSharifu of Lamu, the SalafƯ-WahhƗbƯ (even though al-Farisi himself was generally considered SalafƯ-WahhƗbƯ) and the Ahmadiyya. The maSharifu of Lamu already opposed the SalafƯ teaching that ‫ޏ‬Abdallah al-Farisi spread in his lectures (darasa) in mosques, his public sermons and his writings. This was for them an Islamic teaching that sought to undermine their faith, their SnjfƯ Islamic practices and their social prestige. It was therefore natural to oppose the Qurani Takatifu of alFarisi. For them, it made no sense to translate the Arabic Qur ରƗn into Kiswahili or any other language, as this would reduce the weight of its original meaning. The Qur ରƗn can only be understood by its Arabic text, which contains, in addition, a baraka (a divine grace). Their criticism was, in fact, a blend of classical Islamic doctrine relative to the inimitability of the Qur ରƗn (i‫ޏ‬jƗz al-Qur Ɨର n) and their SnjfƯ faith. The fascination with Arabic and its exclusive use in religious practices among the maSharifu of Lamu was notable not only in their opposition to the translation of the Qur ରƗn into Kiswahili; it was also visible in Lamu’s annual mawlid, during which qaৢƗ ରid (sing. qaৢƯda, a sung poem) sung in the Riyadha mosque were exclusively sung in Arabic.8 Of all maSharifu who rose up against 8

I myself observed this phenomenon when I attended the 2005 annual Mawlid.

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the translation of the Qur ରƗn into Kiswahili by ‫ޏ‬Abdallah al-Farisi, the most critical was Ahmad Badawi, who had published a small book entitled Fimbo la Musa (Moses’ stick).9 We must remember that in the lifetime of Shaykh al-AmƯn bin ‫ޏ‬AlƯ alMazruwi (1891–1949),10 the teacher of ‫ޏ‬Abdallah al-Farisi and true pioneer of SalafƯ reformism in Kenya and throughout East Africa, the maSharifu of Lamu were the first to vigorously oppose the SalafƯ doctrine. It was natural that they would continue to oppose the activities of his followers such as al-Farisi’s translation. However, we did not expect that the SalafƯ-WahhƗbƯ to whom ‫ޏ‬Abdallah al-Farisi belonged would be against the translation of the Qur ରƗn into Kiswahili. Indeed, the SalafƯWahhƗbƯ had a mixed reception to the publication of the Qurani Tukufu. For them, translating the Qur ରƗn into a language other than Arabic risked distorting its meaning, because another language could not exactly capture the meaning in the original language. It was also against the main SalafƯ idea of returning to the source of Islamic doctrine. In fact, there had been two opposing SalafƯ approaches: the moderate Salafism of someone like ‫ޏ‬Abdallah al-Farisi that had its origins in the reformist thinking of RashƯd RiঌƗ; and the radical Salafism of the WahhƗbiyya (which has become the most prevalent in East Africa). During my field research in 2004 and 2005, the SalafƯ-WahhƗbƯ of the region did not pay attention to the Kiswahili translation of the Qur ରƗn. They did not use it in their teaching of tafsƯr al-Qur ରƗn, in their madƗris or in their religious lessons (darasa) in the mosques. They also did not refer to it during their sermons. Moreover, funding for the publication of the Qurani Tukufu was provided by the Kuwaiti Ministry of AwqƗf and Islamic Affairs. Neither the DƗr al-IftƗ ର (Saudi Fatwa Board) nor the Saudi Ministry of AwqƗf and Islamic Affairs, nor any private institution of da‫ޏ‬wa in Saudi Arabia, had seen fit to support the endeavor. Yet many translations into Kiswahili of Salafiyya-WahhƗbiyya literature have been supported by such institutions. In short, overall, the level of receptiveness to al-Farisi’s translation of the Qur ରƗn into Kiswahili was very low. More generally, there was very little use of Kiswahili Islamic literature compared with that of Arabic literature. 9

The stick of Moses apparently evokes the miracles that, according to the Qur ରƗn, Moses performed with his stick. 10 On al-AmƯn bin ‫ޏ‬AlƯ al-MazruwƯ, see, among others, Ahmed I. Salim, “Sheikh al-Amin bin Ali al-Mazrui: un réformiste moderne au Kenya,” in F. Constantin (ed.), Les voies de l’islam en Afrique orientale, Paris, Karthala, 1987, pp. 59–71.

Chapter Five

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This reinforces the thesis of Sanneh and unfortunately invalidates that of Lacunza-Balda. In fact, the latter, in his doctoral thesis and in all his articles (based on his doctoral thesis) exaggerated the importance of the Swahili language in Islam in East Africa. He seems to be influenced in this by a personal desire, namely to see the use of Kiswahili, instead of Arabic, as a liturgical language. In reality, there was not a particular enthusiasm to use Kiswahili instead of Arabic either in the teaching of Islam or in religious practices. .

The Ahmadiyya’s da‫ޏ‬wa in East Africa and their translation of the Qur ରƗn into Kiswahili was the main factor which had pushed ‫ޏ‬Abdallah al-Farisi to write his translation of the Qur ରƗn into Kiswahili precisely to counter that of the Ahmadiyya. It was therefore unsurprising that the latter have been the most vocally critical of the translation of al-Farisi, especially as ‫ޏ‬Abdallah al-Farisi had simultaneously produced a small book entitled Upotofu wa Tafsiri ya Makadiani11 (Perdition Embodied by the Translation of the Qur ରƗn Qadiyan12). It was Amri Abedi13 of Ujiji (Tanzania), the poet-writer and the first East African Ahmadiyya, very famous at that time, who answered ‫ޏ‬Abdallah al-Farisi’s critics and who issued the criticisms of the Ahmadiyya on the translation of the Qur ରƗn. He published a book with the title Uongofu wa Tafsiri ya Kurani Tukufu na Husuda ya Shaykh Abdallah al-Farsi (The Salvation Embodied by the 11

“Makadiani” in Swahili means the Qadiani, in reference to the village of Qadiyan (Gurdaspur District, Punjab), birthplace of the founder of the Ahmadiyya, Mirza Ghulam Ahmad (1835–1908). Qadiyan had been the first center of Ahmadiyya. They were also called the “Mirza'i's,” from the name of the founder. However, “Qadiyani” is still in use to designate the majority group who considered Mahmud Ahmad (the founder’s son) to be the second Khalifa in 1914 after the death of Nur al-Din, the first Khalifa (successor of Mirza Ghulam Ahmad). This is to distinguish them from the Lahor' group (the Lahori) – that is to say, those who refused Mahmud as Khalifa and who have established their main center in Lahor. After the partition in 1947, the Qadiyani group transferred their main center to Rabwa (Pakistan). 12 Note here the confusion made between tarjuma (translation) and tafsƯr al-Qur ରƗn (commentary on the Qur‫ގ‬Ɨn). 13 Amri Abedi (1924–64) was a member of the first delegation of Africans who in 1959 were sent to study in Rabwa. He was for a some time chief of staff in Nyerere’s office. He was also the main contributor to Ahmadiyya’s translation of the Qur‫ޏ‬Ɨn into Kiswahili, especially in the correction of the Swahili language. See Justo Lacunza Balda, “Tendance de la litérature islamique Swahili,” in F. Le Guennec-Coppens and Pat Caplan (eds.), Les Swahili entre Afrique et Arabie, Paris, Credu-Karthala, 1991, p. 29; and M. E. Mnyampala, “Maisha ya Mheshimiwa Sheikh K. A. Abedi,” Swahili, vol. 35, no. 1, 1965, pp. 14–18.

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Kurani Tukufu and the Hostility of Shaykh ‫ޏ‬Abdallah al-Farsi). The Ahmadiyya continued their work of the “vernacularistion of Islam” in East Africa by producing many Islamic texts in Kiswahili and a small portion of texts in other languages, including Kikuyu. They published a translation of the Qur ରƗn into Kikuyu in 1968. The Ahmadiyya officially arrived in East Africa in 1934. But before this date, there were already some Ahmadiyya in the Indian community in the region, who had come to work there like Indians of other faiths. It was those early Indian Ahmadiyya who asked the Ahmadiyya headquarters in Rabwa to send a delegation of missionaries to the region. Thus, in 1934, the center of Rabwa sent a missionary named Mubarak Ahmad. Travel expenses and money for his installation was provided by these Indian Ahmadiyya who were already in the region.14 The missionary arrived first at Mombasa, where he remained for some time. Soon after, he went to establish his headquarters in Tabora in Tanganyika. He built a mosque there in 1942, the inauguration of which took place in 1944. Meanwhile, other missionaries had come from Rabwa to join Mubarak Ahmad. They set up a printing press, through which they spread their Islamic literature propaganda in Kiswahili. It was also in the center in Tabora where Amri Abedi (the well-known African Ahmadiyya in the region) converted from Sunni Islam to Ahmadiyya and worked hard for the spread of Kiswahili Islamic literature. A few years later, the center was transferred from Tabora to Nairobi. Being very loyal subjects of the British Queen, the Ahmadiyya felt protected and free to conduct their proselytizing activities in East Africa under British rule. They did not hesitate to openly demand that the British government establish a modern school system for Muslims. They themselves built not only mosques but also schools. Besides the translation of the Qur ରƗn into Kiswahili, they undertook other translations into Kikuyu, in Kikamba and in Luganda. They also published newspapers: first a bimonthly in Kiswahili that, some time later, was replaced by another in English called the East African Times, which appeared every 40th day. This newspaper contained much normal journalistic information as well as controversies and well-grounded 14

See “Appendix II: Ahmadiyya in East Africa,” in Humphrey J. Fisher, Ahmadiyya. A Study in Contemporary Islam on the West African Coast, London, Oxford University Press, 1963, pp. 191–192; E. R. Martin, “Certain Aspects of the Ahmadiyya Movement in East Africa with Particular Reference to Its Religious Practice and the Development of its History and Theology in East African Environment,” doctoral thesis, University of Nairobi, 1974.

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studies for propaganda. According H. J. Fisher, the standard of the East African Times was higher than that of The Truth, its counterpart that the Ahmadiyya published in West Africa.15 In Tabora, the Ahmadiyya engaged, from their reading of the Bible, in controversial argument with Christians and Christian churches. It was, moreover, from these kinds of discussions that the propaganda method of the Wahubiri wa kislamu had emerged. The Ahmadiyya had already begun this tradition in India in the late 1800s, in order to challenge the propaganda of the Christian street preachers of the Church Missionary Society and other Christian churchs. They were also forced to respond to the controversies of the Arya Samaj and the Brahmo Samaj. In addition, they indulged in arguments against Sunni Muslims who accused them of heresy. So when they arrived in East Africa, they were already experienced in all kinds of controversy. They therefore transferred to East Africa the same patterns of controversy they had in India.16 In April 2005 in the Kariakoo area of Dar es Salaam, in an interview I conducted with Mu‫ޏ‬allim Basaleh (the ‫ޏ‬Ɨlim most critical of the government of Tanzania and CCM/Chama Cha Mapinduzi, its hegemonic party, and of Christian churches in the country) he told me that his polemical skills were gained through the controversies that he and other Sunni Muslims had had with Ahmadiyya on the streets of Dar es Salaam and in the Kariakoo market in the 1970s. But he was still learning more from the Ahmadiyya when these latter ranged themselves on the side of the Sunni Muslims against Christian preachers in controversies in the markets of Dar es Salaam. It would not be an exaggeration to say that in East Africa (and maybe even in the whole Muslim world) the Ahmadiyya were the originators of modern methods of propagating Islam – methods they had already borrowed from Protestant churches in India from the late 1800s on, such as, for example, the spread of Islamic literature in vernacular languages, the conversion of Christians to Islam through an “Islamic” reading of the Bible, the establishment of health clinics and other social services, etc. These methods which appeared in 2004 and 2005, so obvious to many Muslims of the region, were not so in the early 1940s. But in the late 1970s, the Ahmadiyya being suspected by the rulers of newly independent 15

Fisher, Ahmadiyya, p. 192. See, among others, Spencer Lavan, The Ahmadiyyah Movement: A History and Perspective, New Delhi, Manohar Book Service, 1974, pp. 64–144. 16

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states of being agents of the British government, and accused by Christians and Muslims of being heretics, they could not resist this shock wave. They had therefore adopted, since then, a low profile in the religious field. They continued, however, to manage their mosques, to open their clinics to everyone and to publish some brochures and a newspaper entitled Mapezi ya Mungu (God’s Love). But their cultural legacy would be greatly leveraged by modern propagandists of Islam in the region, such as the Muslim Bible Scholars who relied on an “Islamic” reading of the Bible to convert Christians to Islam; and the ShƯ‫ޏ‬a of the Bilal Muslim Mission who spread, in the 1980s, 1990s and 2000s, the greatest quantity of Islamic literature in vernacular languages, including, of course, Kiswahili.

The Lamu Mawlid and the Use of the Arabic Language in This Ritual After participating in the Saba Ishirini (the main ceremony of the ShƗdhiliyya ৬arƯqa in Tanzania) and having taken part in the mawlid of Lamu (May 4–7, 2005), I was struck by the extensive use of the Arabic language, instead of the local language (Kiswahili). These rituals are, after all, not an Islamic obligation (farঌ, pl. furnjঌ) as are other Islamic practices such as ৢalƗt (prayer), in which the use of the Arabic language is considered compulsory by Muslims everywhere. This use of the Arabic language in the mawlid ceremonies in Lamu in Kenya was more pronounced than in the Saba Ishirini in Tanzania. In the latter country, the disciples of the ShƗdhiliyya, when they were doing their dhikr (dƗ ରira) inside or outside the mosque, sang all the poems (qaৢƗ ରid) in Arabic, as well as all the formulas they recited in the rituals of the ৬arƯqa. The only ritual in which, from time to time, one could listen to the wonderful poems sung in Kiswahili was the well-known swahili mawlid (mawlidi ya kiswahili), named so precisely because the majority of the texts recited were poems sung in Kiswahili. During the Saba Ishirini period in Tanzania, a ceremony was held each evening consisting of two sequences, one of dhikr followed by one of the kiswahili mawlid (mawlidi ya kiswahili). It was precisely in this phase of the mawlidi ya kiswahili that the spiritual emotion was much stronger. The reason for this was that most of the texts recited and sung were in Kiswahili, the local language, and thus were understood by everyone. This was not the case with the Arabic texts and poems. The power of the music of the tambourines and flutes together with the Afro-Oriental rhythms which accompanied these sung

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poems sometimes caused some participants to enter delusional trances identical to those observed during the dances of possession (ngoma ya majini, or ngoma ya pepo). As for the Lamu mawlid inside the Riyadha mosque or in the ৡafƗ mosque, it was based on the recitation in Arabic of the book Sim‫ ܒ‬ad-durar (Pearl Necklace),17 and most of the qaৢƗ ରid were also sung in Arabic. I had the occasion to observe the phenomenon when I took part in the mawlid in the ৡafƗ mosque (May 4, 2005) and in the Riyadha mosque (May 5, 2005). The same was true of the procession of ziyƗra to the tomb of Habib Saleh, the day after the mawlid.

Brief Description of the Performance of the Mawlid in Lamu The mawlid is the celebration of the birth of Prophet Muতammad. This Islamic holiday is celebrated differently in different Muslim countries. Generally, the celebration of the mawlid takes place on 12 RabƯ‫ޏ‬al-Awwal (the 12th day of the 3rd month of the Islamic calendar) each year, the day when Prophet Muতammad was born, according to Islamic tradition. In East Africa, the celebration could take place at any time during the month of RabƯ‫ޏ‬al-Awwal (mfungo sita, the 6th month of the Swahili calendar). Sometimes RabƯ‫ޏ‬al-Awwal is simply named Mwezi wa mawlidi (the month of mawlids). As for the mawlid of Lamu, it takes place on the 26th and 27th of RabƯ‫ޏ‬alAwwal. The evening of the 26th is the most important part of the whole celebration. Indeed, that evening, the mawlid is held in Riyadha mosque, the main mosque built by Habib Saleh in 1935. The latter was the one who initiated the Lamu mawlid as it is still performed today – that is to say, using the recitation of the Arabic text of Sim‫ ܒ‬al-durar and Arabic poems accompanied by the music of tambourines and flutes. The following day in the afternoon, mawlid participants gather in front of the Riyadha mosque and go in the procession of ziyƗra to the cemetery where Habib Saleh is buried. Once in the cemetery, Habib Saleh’s clan – that is, his grandchildren and their children (males only) together with their close relatives and important guests – sit on carpets in a large hangar 17

Literally, in Arabic, sim৬ means necklace and Durar means beads. But sim৬ also has the meaning of a kind of poem whose verses are composed in such a way that three parts in each hemistich rhyme and the fourth, instead of rhyming with the other three, forms a rhyme with the fourth part of the following hemistich.

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covered with corrugated sheets. The rest, the vast majority of the participants, stayed outside all around the hangar, some standing, others sitting on the ground. In the middle of the hangar are the tombs of Habib Saleh and of his sons and other relatives. Under the smoke and perfume of incense, those sitting inside the hangar begin to recite prayers for the rest of those buried there, beginning with Habib Saleh, in a melodious way, using the microphone. The ritual is mostly propitiatory and intercessional. Participants ask God, through the baraka and the intercession of Habib Saleh, to grant them a better life in this world and in the other and to fulfill all their wishes. For at least an hour they recite prayers in turn, all in Arabic – a language that the vast majority of participants do not understand. An hour later, the ceremony in the cemetery ends, and the procession returns to the Riyadha mosque, its place of departure. On the way and the return of the procession, the participants, or rather those at the front of the procession sing qaৢƗ ରid, also in Arabic, to the rhythm of the tambourines. At the main square in front of the Riyadha mosque, the procession and therefore the period of the mawlid ends, after a speech of thanks and farewell and after dances, songs and dhikr performed by the followers of the ৬arƯqa QƗdiriyya-Uwaysiyya. All this happens on the large square in front of Riyadha mosque. Here, too, even if one can hear, here and there, some formulas sung in Kiswahili, most of the poems are sung in Arabic, and the majority of people who recite these poems do not understand the meaning. The only event traditionally linked to the mawlid during which formulas are recited in Kiswahili and not in Arabic is the dance of the bakora (sticks) that takes place on the evening of the 25th of RabƯ‫ޏ‬al-Awwal in the large square in front of the Riyadha mosque.

The Dance of the Bakora In this dance, much of the time is spent in silence. Participants line up or form a circle and perform dance steps as one, to the right side first and then to the left side. The whole takes place under the direction of a leader who is in the middle and moves, singing and dancing, from one end of the circle to the other. In fact, in this dance, it is this leader who intones the few Kiswahili formulas that one can hear. The rest of the time, you can only hear the powerful rhythm of drums (ngoma) and tambourines (matari). As for the dancers, each one is concentrated on the rhythm of the ngoma and the steps of the dance, holding the stick firmly with his hand. This dance seemed very meditative to me, and I thought it was also very

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meditative for all who watched it, especially women and girls. It must be remembered that all the manifestations of the mawlid are undertaken by males, while women and girls form the greater part of the spectators.

The Intrusion of Politics and Other Events into the Mawlid The other events of the mawlid are recent innovations introduced by the island administration for tourist advertising purposes: donkey races, football matches, swimming, dhow competitions, etc. These events for tourists in the Lamu mawlid are one aspect of what might be called “the intrusion of politics into the mawlid” in order to instrumentalize this latter for purely political legitimation. As an example of this, during the mawlid of May 2005 I observed the somewhat absurd competition between the former mayor of Mombasa and current Minister of Cultural Heritage of Kenya, Najib Balala, and his opponent, the current mayor, the lawyer Taib Ali Taib (both of Yemenite origin) to win the sympathy of the family of Habib Saleh and that of the faithful. Taib Ali Taib had been on the island since the morning of May 4, 2005 (the 25th of RabƯ‫ޏ‬al-Awwal) with a group of young people sympathetic to his policies, wearing T-shirts bearing his effigy and his name. The group followed him everywhere. During the evening of the mawlid in the ৡafƗ mosque, these young people were there with their Tshirts. Of course, Taib Ali Taib had taken the opportunity to make a “political” speech at the mosque. There, we could see the young people getting up from everywhere to take pictures of their leader talking. The next morning at the Riyadha mosque during the ceremony of samƗ‫ޏ‬ (spiritual music) organized by Ahmed Hussein Badawi (one of Habib Saleh’s grandchildren), Taib Ali Taib also seized the opportunity to address the audience. Again, we saw his young sympathizers stand up from everywhere in their T-shirts to take pictures of their leader. As for Najib Balala, even if he was playing the same game of instrumentalizing the mawlid for political interests, he was very discreet. He arrived on the island only on May 5 (the 26th of RabƯ‫ޏ‬al-Awwal) in the afternoon. He presided over the handing out of cups and other gifts to the winners of the sporting competitions held on the island during the mawlid. He then participated in the evening at the mawlid and also the procession the next day, without having made any public speech. The night before the mawlid, I had the opportunity to exchange a few words with him. I was, in fact, invited by Sumay৬, the son of SharƯf Khitami (the eldest son of Habib Saleh’s grandchildren) to dinner with the distinguished guests of the mawlid, of which Najib Balala was, of course, one.

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The US diplomatic services in Kenya were also beginning to show an interest in the Lamu mawlid. For example, during the mawlid of May 2005, the USA, through its diplomatic services in Kenya and for the fight against Islamist terrorism, had made a contribution to a group of Kenyan doctors who during the two-week mawlid period offered medical care free of charge, for the first time, to the inhabitants of Lamu. There were general practitioners, ophthalmologists, dentists, gynecologists. The group was made up of young Swahili doctors, Kenyan Indians, an Egyptian doctor who was working in Kenya, and two women, including a gynecologist, who were working for a Western NGO. They received patients in tents that they had erected around the Riyadha mosque. Another diplomatic service that contributed to the organization of the mawlid was that of Iran. Since 1980, the Iranian Embassy in Kenya had contributed to the Lamu mawlid organized by the family of Habib Saleh, an important SharƯf family (descendants of the Prophet Muতammad/ahl albayt) of the region. Apart from the fact that the ShƯ‫ޏ‬Ư worship the ahl albayt, the contribution of the Iranian embassy was part of Iran’s policy of spreading the Islamic revolution and the presence of this country in East Africa. It should be noted that the Iranian Embassy in Kenya also sometimes sent someone to represent it at the Lamu mawlid. Many other financial contributions to the organization of the Lamu mawlid came from the wealthy and less wealthy faithful, who received in return a divine reward, the baraka and the intercession of Habib Saleh.

Leadership Conflicts among Habib Saleh’s Heirs The financial contributions given individually by a few faithful or by institutions such as the two diplomatic representations mentioned above go into the hands of Habib Saleh’s family, or more exactly those of his four grandchildren, namely: 1. SharƯf KhitƗmƯ, the oldest and the most responsible member of the family. Until his death in 2005, SharƯf KhitƗmƯ lived in Mombasa and occasionally came to Lamu, notably, of course, during the mawlid. 2. Mwenye Baba, who lives in Mambrui, where he leads a madrasa. Mwenye Baba seems to be the most learned in Islamic sciences among the four grandchildren of Habib Saleh. From time to time, he produces small Arabic books sold especially during the period of the mawlid.

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3. Ahmad Husayn BadawƯ, who lives and leads a madrasa in Lushoto (Tanzania). He is, of all the members of Habib Saleh’s family and all the ‫ޏ‬ulamƗ ର educated at the Riyadha’s mosque and madrasa, the one who has traveled most extensively to teach Islam. He had a madrasa in the suburbs of Nairobi in the 1980s, then emigrated to Uganda and then to eastern Zaire (Congo). He started a madrasa in each of these countries. In 1989, he moved to Loshoto (Tanzania), where he also began a madrasa, named Madrasa al-irshƗd alislƗmiyya. In March 2004, I visited this madrasa in Lushoto, which was located on a 5-hectare estate and had 116 pupils. On the estate there was also the house of Shaykh Ahmad Husayn BadawƯ, two houses of the seven teachers of the madrasa, a kindergarten, a mosque and a carpentry workshop. All pupils, before they came to the madrasa, were first enrolled in public elementary school and had at least seven years of compulsory schooling in accordance with Tanzanian law. One of the teachers was also a carpenter by profession and taught the skills of this trade to the pupils. He and the pupils also carried out work for the inhabitants of Loshoto, who payed them accordingly. The money earned from this work was one of the sources of income of the madrasa. The madrasa also had a grain-grinding machine. Some peasants and certain families of the city went there to grind their grains, paying in return a few Tanzanian shillings for the madrasa. It also had a truck that was rented from time to time to the inhabitants of the city. Ahmad Husayn BadawƯ was, of all the people trained in the mosque and madrasa of Riyadha, the most competent in samƗ‫ ޏ‬music. He wrote and composed many poems sung in Arabic (and some in Kiswahili). He could sing beautifully and his students were known as the best in SamƗ‫ޏ‬. Every period of the mawlid, he came to Lamu with his pupils. On the 26th of RabƯ ‫ޏ‬al-Awwal in Riyadha mosque, he organized with his pupils a samƗ‫ ޏ‬ceremony for the participants in the mawlid. Having participated in all the events of the mawlid, I thought that the samƗ‫ ޏ‬ceremony organized by Ahmad Husayn BadawƯ was the most beautiful of all. 4. The fourth person, whose name I did not learn, was in charge of the ৡafƗ mosque, not far from the Riyadha mosque. He was a cousin of the other three. He and his mosque were well known on the island for their very pronounced Twelve ShƯ‫ޏ‬a (IthnƗ ‫ޏ‬asharƯ) orientation. The man seemed very extravagant to me, with his big black turban. He had at his side a young ‫ޏ‬Ɨlim (also wearing a black turban) who had studied in Iran. The head of the ৡafƗ mosque did not miss any

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opportunity to show the public, with small gestures, his disagreement with the other three members of the Habib Saleh family. Material and leadership conflicts divided him from them. Even if there were minor conflicts between the other three, they were united in defending and maintaining the family tradition of the mawlid. After SharƯf KhitƗmƯ died, his son Sumay৬, a biology lecturer and researcher at the Mascat University (Oman), a very dynamic person, was well placed to take over. He was already the one who had built the most networks for Lamu’s mawlid, especially since he had studied Islamic studies and was already preaching in East Africa during religious manifestations. His academic training also gave him the opportunity to give lectures and to write articles in English and Arabic on the history of Islam in the region. While Sumay৬ was primarily animated by the maintenance of a family tradition, he was also motivated by the desire to stand up against the Salafiyya-WahhƗbiyya of the region who constantly denigrated the Islamic teaching provided by the madrasa of Riyadha, a teaching based on the SnjfƯ tradition. However, both in the Riyadha madrasa and in Salafiyya-WahhƗbiyya circles, Islamic teaching was provided not through the medium of the Swahili language but rather in Arabic. It was also in this language, not in local languages such as Kiswahili, that the faithful fulfilled their religious practices such as the ৢalƗt, in which Islamic tradition considers the use of the Arabic language as obligatory, such as the ৢalƗt (ritual prayers). Moreover, even for popular religious practices in which the Islamic tradition does not consider the use of Arabic compulsory, the faithful performed them, nevertheless, in this language. This was the case, as we have seen, for the qasƗ ରid sung in the samƗ‫ ޏ‬music sessions and also the poems recited and sung in the dhikr of the SnjfƯ ৬uruq, and even in large part the texts recited during the mawlid. The only moments in which the SnjfƯ-inspired ‫ޏ‬ulamƗ ର as well as the Salafiyya-WahhƗbiyya ‫ޏ‬ulamƗ ର used the medium of local languages were when preaching during religious manifestations, which were usually recorded on audio- and videotapes and then sold on the local market. The spread of Islamic literature printed in the Kiswahili language initiated by people like al-AmƯn bin ‫ޏ‬AlƯ al-MazruwƯ, his disciple ‫ޏ‬Abdallah ৡƗliত al-Farisi (d. 1982) and the disciple of this latter Shaykh Said Musa of Sibo-Kilimanjaro (b. 1944), instead of progressing, stagnated as SalafiyyaWahhƗbiyya Islam progressed in the region.

CHAPTER SIX THE RESURGENCE OF CLAIMS OF THE AUTONOMY AND ISLAMIC IDENTITY OF MWAMBAO, THE COASTAL AREA OF KENYA

All the data on which this book relies were collected in the years after 9/11. We have already encountered in the preceding pages a range of topics which these data relate to. I would like to return to the topic of conversion from Sunni Islam to ShƯ‫ޏ‬a IthnƗ ‫ޏ‬asharƯ, and more exactly the conversion of Shaykh Abdillahi Nassir of Mombasa. I will relate this topic in light of my presence as a researcher in the region, especially in Mombasa, during the time of the “war on terror.” When I arrived in Mombasa, I immediately sought to meet Shaykh Abdillahi Nassir. I went to his office. After receiving me, he informed me that he was going to travel the next day to Tanzania and he would, therefore, not have enough time for me. He advised me, however, to meet his son, Stambuli Abdillahi Nassir, who could give me information pertaining to my research. I went on to meet Stambuli Abdillahi Nassir several times in Dilbahar Restaurant, where family members and relatives of Abdillahi Nassir would meet in the morning to drink tea together and exchange news, before separating to go about their daily business. The first time I met Stambuli, I asked him if he knew the house of an aunt of mine who died in the early 2000. Although she was a native of the Comoros, she was married to someone from Mombasa and had lived in the city since at least the 1950s. I was surprised to learn that not only did he know the family of my aunt, but the husband of the latter was the cousin of his father, Shaykh Abdillahi Nassir. So, he led me to my aunt’s house, where the daughter of this latter lived with her father and her husband. I already knew the daughter and her husband, whom I had met in the Comoros in 2001 during a research trip. They spent the holidays there during that period. Having learned that there were links between the family of my aunt and that of Shaykh Abdillahi Nassir, my relationship

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with Stambuli and Ahmed Nassir, Abdillahi Nassir’s brother, was consolidated. Throughout my stay in Mombasa, therefore, I would meet the two each morning at Dilbahar Restaurant.

Abdillahi Nassir: A Biographical Note Shaykh Abdillahi Nassir was, from the 1960s on, without a doubt, one of the best known ‫ޏ‬ulamƗ ର in Kenya, albeit more controversial than his colleagues in Kenya or even in all of East Africa. Many in Kenya considered him for a long time to be a reformist ‫ޏ‬Ɨlim. He was indeed a reformist ‫ޏ‬Ɨlim, compared with other ‫ޏ‬ulamƗ ର of the country. But the reformism of Shaykh Abdillahi when he was Sunni, as well as after he became ShƯ‫ޏ‬Ư, was that of political Islam, the common trait of which had been to regard Islam not as a religion only but as religion and politics together, an inseparable whole which governs the affairs of this world and those of the Hereafter (DƯn wa Dunya/religion and the world). One can easily understand his worldview simply by reading his speeches mentioned below and his other sermons. Shaykh Abdillahi was born in 1932 in Mombasa to a Swahili family respected as healers and pious Muslims. He did his schooling in the public primary school which he left when he reached Standard Six (six years of primary school). At the same time that he was in public school, he attended religious lessons that ‫ޏ‬ulamƗ ର of Mombasa dispensed in mosques in the evenings. He also learned religion in public schools, since these latter, alongside secular disciplines, dispensed notions of Islam and the Arabic language. This was in some ways the precursor to the system of the Integrated School, an education system today popular with and appreciated by the Muslims of the region. Of all the ‫ޏ‬ulamƗ ର with whom Abdillahi had learned Islam, there were two who particularly influenced him and whom he considered his teachers. The first was Shaykh Muhammad Abdallah Muhammad Ghazzali in Mombasa and the second was the Comorian-origin Sayyid ‫ޏ‬Umar ‫ޏ‬Abdallah in Zanzibar. In 1950, Abdillahi went to Zanzibar to attend teacher training in the Zanzibari Teachers’ College. At the same time, he took Islamic lessons from Sayyid ‫ޏ‬Umar ‫ޏ‬Abdallah. This latter was, at the time, the director of the Muslim Academy in Zanzibar. Sayyid ‫ޏ‬Umar ‫ޏ‬Abdalla had dual training: religious and secular. He finished his studies in philosophy at Oxford University. This dual training had opened to him a wide range of knowledge different to that which other ‫ޏ‬ulamƗ ର of the

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region were familiar with. ‫ޏ‬Umar ‫ޏ‬Abdallah was more appreciated by his students, among them Abdillahi Nassir, because of this. Shaykh Ghazzali too was open to modern knowledge. Indeed, in his madrasa, Shaykh Ghazzali transmitted to his students the ideas of the reformists Muতammad ‫ޏ‬Abdu, JamƗl al-DƯn al-AfghƗnƯ and RashƯd RiঌƗ. But what most influenced Abdillahi Nassir was the critique that his shaykh made of the social strife in Mombasa, particularly the racial cleavages in the city. After training in Zanzibar Abdillahi Nassir returned to Mombasa, where he became a teacher in the public schools while continuing to preach and teach in mosques. Beginning in the late 1950s, he launched himself into politics. He first joined the new party led by Jomo Kenyatta, the KANU (Kenya African National Union), which he left some time later to join the CPP (The Coast People’s Party, which demanded autonomy for Mwambao, the coastal region of Kenya). After independence and the failure of the struggle of the CPP, Shaykh Abdillahi abandoned active politics. He worked for a while as a teacher in the Mombasa Institute of Muslim Education (MIOME) before becoming the Kiswahili editor Oxford University Press in Nairobi. Meanwhile, Shaykh Abdillahi was in the vanguard of all the battles defending the rights of Muslims, such as the claims of 1970 for the maintenance of personal status of Muslims (marriage, divorce, inheritance). His sermons and religious lessons at the Grand Mosque (Jamia Mosque) in Nairobi attracted many faithful. In 1977 he resigned from his post at Oxford University Press to found his own publishing house, called Shungaya Publishers. But this latter soon declared bankruptcy in 1985. From that date, Shaykh Abdillahi devoted himself more and more to his ‫ޏ‬Ɨlim-preacher activities in the Jamia Mosque, a mosque which at the time was supported largely by Saudi WahhƗbƯ institutions such as WAMY with headquarters in Jeddah (Saudi Arabia). He even became a representative of WAMY in East Africa. But, in the late 1980s, Shaykh Abdillahi informed the faithful of Nairobi that he had become ShƯ‫ޏ‬Ư. After this announcement, he was denied access to the Jamia Mosque. He was subsequently so harassed by the Sunni Muslims of Nairobi that to save his life, he left the city to return to Mombasa, his hometown. In Mombasa, even though he still faced the hostility of the Sunnis, he felt safer than in Nairobi, being from a wellknown local Sunni family who strongly supported him while rejecting his conversion to Shi‫ޏ‬ism. Moreover, in Mombasa he was close to Arusha and

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Dar es Salaam, the location of the central infrastructure of the Indian ShƯ‫ޏ‬Ư community in the region, for which he became the main imƗm. It was through these infrastructures that his writings and conferences would be disseminated to the region in videos and audio cassettes. In light of his speeches and his biography, we can say that Shaykh Abdillahi was not only smart but was also a virtuoso of survival. He knew well when and how to gain and to save his life. After Kenya’s independence, he gave up active politics because he must have felt that Jomo Kenyatta would not be kind to his opponents. Indeed, some of these opponents paid with their lives. After the bankruptcy of his publishing house, Shaykh Abdillahi approached the Saudis through the Jamia Mosque. After his conversion to Shi‫ޏ‬ism and after subsequently having problems with the Saudi WahhƗbƯ, he approached not only the rich Indian ShƯ‫ޏ‬Ư of the region, but also the embassies of Iran.

Mwambao: History of the East African Coast What follows is a history of Kenya in general and of Mwambao in particular, according to Shaykh Abdillahi Nassir (in a speech in Kiswahili, translated by me into English). “For an awakening of the spirit [muamko wakuelewa] and not of enthusiasm only [muamko wa hamasa], which is scum of piss [Muamko wa hamasa ni povu la mkojo]” My dear brothers, al-Salam ‫ޏ‬alaykum. God says in His Holy Book: “O you who believe, why when we ask you to go to do jihad, do you remain fixed to the ground? Do you prefer the life of this world to the Hereafter? The enjoyment of the life of this world is nothing compared to that of the Hereafter. If you avoid jihad, God will punish you terribly and put another people in your place. Nothing of that will be difficult for Him. He is omnipotent” [9, al-Tawba, 38–39]. I’ve been invited here to talk with you, dear brothers. But before starting to talk about the topic I want to discuss here, I would like that first of all we agree the way I will proceed. In most cases, when we [preachers] talk to the public, we have two ways of talking: (1) a way which consists of enthusing others [kuhamasishana]; (2) and another one consisting of learning from each other [kuelimishana]. Some prefer to speak with enthusiasm while teaching you something. Enthusiasm can bring good results. But in some cases it is simply to excite you only. In this case, enthusiasm is like scum of piss [povu la mkojo].

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For my part, I decide to use here the method consisting of learning from each other, which requires talking calmly about things in order to assist each other on the issues we will discuss. Our country, Kenya, has now arrived at a crossroads [Njia panda]. It must decide to follow one of two paths, namely the interest of the entire country or upheaval [vurugu]. Here I would like, according to the time I have, to talk about four issues: 1. 2. 3. 4.

How did we Kenyans come to the crossroads? And, in this situation, what is the state of Muslims in this country? Are Muslims satisfied with their current state? If Muslims in this country are not satisfied with their situation (and I’m sure none of us is), what then should Muslims do?

However, to understand this, we must look at the past and understand our history. To understand how we got to where we are today, and where we want to go. History, therefore, tells us that in the past, our country had two parts [sehemu]. One was called the Colony of Kenya; the second was named the British East African Protectorate. The Protectorate [Himaya] was the area of the coast best known by the name of Mwambao. The Colony was the up-country [Sehemu ya Juu], known as Bara. So this was Kenya until 1963, when it gained its independence. The Protectorate part, i.e. Mwambao, was constituted as a country in its own right before the colony part was constituted. The reason was that the population of the coast took place before that of the up-country. The coast has been inhabited for about 1,300 years. Muslims have long lived in this region. They had their different countries that they directed themselves according to their interests. They had their own leaders [viongozi] and ran their affairs completely autonomously. At a time when the up-country had not yet begun to move, Mwambao was already moving. When Europeans [Wazungu] were looking for a route to India, the Portuguese were the first to discover these coastal communities. And as we know, the Europeans always want to stay in other countries. Not as strangers and guests, but they want to dominate their indigenous hosts and rule over them. In such a situation, wars erupted from time to time. This is also the reason why Mombasa was called Mvita [vita/war], because it was always in war. People fought against the Europeans. Sometimes they won the battles and other times they lost them. At the time, all the inhabitants of the coast were Muslims. When these people were weakened by these constant wars, Europeans arrived in far greater numbers than before. People went to request the assistance of a Muslim, namely the King [Mfalme] of Oman, Sayyid Sa‫ޏ‬Ưd Bin Sultan. The Sultan of Oman therefore signed agreements [Mikataba] with the populations of Mwambao. Under these agreements,

Autonomy and Islamic Identity of Mwombao the two parties were to have mutual assistance, but none should interfere in the internal affairs of the other. In addition, it had been agreed that what the Omani would take, such as the port charges [pesa za Forodhani] would be shared with the people of Mwambao. And things actually went in this way. To the point that some people a little bit older than us remember the time when the representatives of both parties actually shared the coins that they cashed as taxes in port. Colonial policies of the world were launched and England [Muingereza] became stronger. When Europeans realized that new business opportunities had emerged, that new machines such as those used in manufactured fabrics and other machines had been created, that they had become the owners of industries, they decided to abolish slavery [utumwa], since now slavery was no longer economically viable. The Europeans therefore did not abolish slavery because they loved humanity [binadamu] so much, but rather out of economic interests [maslaha ya kiuchumi]. Subsequently, the British came here and forced [kumlazimisha] the Sultan to abolish slavery and to request English protection [Himaya], in the same way as when the people of Mwambao had requested the protection of the Sultan. So the Sultan asked for the English Protectorate. In fact, England wanted to have a territory in the region as the Germans had their own in Tanganyika, the Portuguese in Mozambique. England had already decided to conquer the lands of the interior [Bara], but it wanted an exit to the sea; and that was the port of Mombasa. It reached agreement with the Sultan that this latter would keep [atashika] Unguja and Pemba and give Mwambao to England under Protectorate status. This is what was known as the Agreement [mkataba] of 1895. So the Sultan had signed an agreement with the people of Mwambao and in 1895 he signed an agreement with England. But when he signed the agreement with England, the Sultan did not consult the people of Mwambao on the issue. But according to the circumstances of the time, with the strength of England, this latter was able to impose its will. It therefore followed that England would reign [ametawala] Kenya as its colony and at the same time it had been given [amepewa Amana] Mwambao as a Protectorate. But the way to reign [utawala] in a colony was not the same as in a Protectorate. In Mwambao, Muslims were a significant force. There had been here before the Protectorate, a Kadhy system [QƗঌƯ] and an autochthon administrative system. England did not cancel them. Later, demands for independence policies [Uhuru] and the ideas of patriotism [uzalendo] and nationalism appear in Africa. The African now wants to govern [tawala] his own country. In the countries of East Africa [Kenya, Uganda, Zanzibar, Tanganyika] political parties were formed. In Tanganyika, for example, there was TANU [the Tanganyika African National Union]. As usual, in the struggle between political parties, we used harsh words.

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Chapter Six Hatred had been expressed against those who were considered nonAfricans. “Foreigners must leave!” These were the kind of catchwords that could be heard at the time, addressed to those who were considered nonAfricans, even if they had been in Africa for years. These hatreds created at that time have harmed Muslims. Muslims were divided and confronted each other. It was in this atmosphere that people from Mwambao stood up to say that Mwambao was a country apart, and if Kenyans gained their independence then Mwambao people would not be with them. Indeed the people of Mwambao wanted independence, but of Mwambao alone. Political parties of other neighboring countries coalesced with the Kenyan political parties against the people of Mwambao. So, these latter looked to Zanzibar, hoping to receive support. For there were the Sultan and political parties led by people similar to those of Mwambao. But in Zanzibar people were busy with their own conflicts. There were several political parties, such as Hizbu, Afro-Shirazi. This latter was, as its members were saying, the party of Africans, while Hizbu was considered the party of the Arabs. Yet Hizbu was not different from other parties. It had the same position and the same claim as the others, namely “The English must go; we want to govern ourselves.” But because of racist hatred [unsuriya] and because they were Muslims, ideas were spread that Hizbu was the party of Arabs. Thus, the political parties of the up-country considered Afro-Shirazi their friends. But actually, the claims and the position of Hizbu were the same as those of the parties of the up-country. The only difference was that Hizbu was run by people who had a different skin color to the people of the AfroShirazi party. But since in Hizbu there were a lot of well-trained people compared with other parties, it was difficult, in meetings of the whole of Africa abroad, to ignore that party. Apart from East Africa, all other African countries found that the position of Hizbu was the most appropriate for the struggle for independence. Thus, it was difficult to dismiss Hizbu in meetings throughout Africa. In the period in which the independence of Mwambao was increasingly claimed, Hizbu was in a difficult situation because the propaganda at that time was against Arabs and slavery. In such a situation, Hizbu thought that if it was rallying with Mwambao its position in Zanzibar would be much weaker, in the sense that their opponents would seize the opportunity to say “look at them!” This is because the idea of the secession of Mwambao was opposed by many African political parties. The situation was comparable to that of Congo between Kasavumbu and Tshombe. That is why Hizbu could not openly declare its support for Mwambao. In such a situation, we opposed each other at that time, with harsh words. If you read the newspapers of those days or go to the Museum, you will see that the words with which we used to address to each other, at that time, were very severe.

Autonomy and Islamic Identity of Mwombao When England had realized the gravity of the situation, it decided to send an envoy to investigate whether Mwambao’s populations really wanted to secede from the up-country or not. The envoy Mr. James Robertson was sent. But his mission was not undertaken in a fair manner, for England, because of the position of Hizbu in Zanzibar, already favored a specific group. The position of Hizbu was indeed this following: “the colonizer came to colonize East Africa via Zanzibar, therefore it is also through Zanzibar that it should leave the region. Zanzibar will also be the springboard from which Islam will jump to the African continent.” The expression “springboard” used by Hizbu had alarmed England, because it knew that if Hizbu became strong in Zanzibar, the risk was great that Islam would spread rapidly in Africa. The reason was that Zanzibar was the only African country which, after its independence, would not have needed the support of Europeans. This is because Zanzibar was selfsufficient in all areas already. The island already had doctors, engineers, judges, etc. This was because Zanzibaris had already begun to be trained in modern science long before. Thus, having gained their independence, Zanzibaris would have been able to tell Europeans: go home, we do not need you, we can manage our country by ourselves. They had enough people capable of governing their country and supporting the neighboring countries with experts. Because of this, England had was apprehensive vis-à-vis Hizbu. So England began secretly to act against Zanzibar. This would come to light at the time of the revolutionary coup d’etat [Mapinduzi] on the island. During the event, the prime minister of Zanzibar at that time requested military assistance from England to counter the coup and restore the legitimate democratically elected government. But England refused on the grounds that it was an internal military conflict between Zanzibaris. The same year of 1964, armed insurgencies [machafuko ya Jeshi] wanted to overthrow the governments in Dar es Salaam, Nairobi and Kampala, and Britain dispatched troops there to crush the insurgents and restore governments to power. Now this was the same nature of internal conflict: national armies who wanted to overthrow national governments. Why England did act in this way? Well, because England did not want Zanzibar to become a springboard for the propagation of Islam in continental Africa. So, it chose not to support the government in order to make Zanzibar weaker. Now, the English envoy Robertson came to Mwambao for his investigations. But those whose opinion he wanted to ask about the secession were no longer the population of Mwambao, that is to say those

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who were under the Protectorate, but were the population of entire Coast Province instead. For the British government, the goal was to include people who normally were not part of the Protectorate, but who, once included among Mwambao’s population, would vote against the autonomy (or secession) of Mwambao. We fought against this decision but the government did not listen to us. Therefore, consultation was to be for the entire population of the entire Coast Province. Instead of “the 10 miles” that was normally the Protectorate, it became 90 miles. This means that England added 80 more miles. In such a situation, the vote would show that the majority of the population did not want autonomy. And indeed, that was what happened. For it added people who normally would not take part in such a consultation – people who it was known would vote against the autonomy of Mwambao. This was not enough, but even among ourselves here in Mwambao we were divided. Some of our brothers here were left confused by our brothers in the up-country, who were telling them that the issue was not actually the claim of the autonomy of Mwambao, but rather the intention of Arabs to re-establish slavery [utumwa]. This kind of propaganda had been so much spread that people forgot the interests of Muslims. Muslims themselves were divided on the future of Mwambao. There were the CPP, the Coastal League, and the Shungwaya Freedom Party. [There was a fourth party that the author does not mention: the KPPNP, Kenya Protectorate People’s National Party.] x x x

The Coastal League wanted Mwambao to get its autonomy and then to be incorporated into the State of Zanzibar. The CCP wanted Mwambao to get its autonomy and govern itself alone. The Shungwaya Freedom Party, the party of our brothers waBajuni, did not want autonomy but agreed with KADU [the Kenya African Democratic Union].

We started first our meetings here in Nairobi before heading to London. But once we had arrived in London, letters of all kinds had been sent from Kenya whose content was: if I and Bassadique [both representatives of the CCP] took positions other than those of our party, this latter would disavow us. In the end, a letter was sent to the State House, to inform them that Abdillahi and Bassadique were not representing the CCP. During the same conference, the governor received a phone call from Mombasa saying that we were not representing the party.

Autonomy and Islamic Identity of Mwombao Despite this, we tried to do our best. However, at Lancaster House we were squarely beaten, because technically the 1895 agreements were between the Sultan of Zanzibar and England. Therefore, arbitration would have to take place between them. We, as subjects of the Sultan, had to discuss matters with our Sultan. Since our Sultan had already decided on the issue between him and England, we as subjects had only to accept this fact. But our friends of Zanzibar [Unguja], given the situation they were in, did not dare to support Mwambao’s autonomy from Kenya. Therefore we had to support the interpretation that the Sultan had agreed that Mwambao would stay within Kenya. We, that is to say I and Bassadique, upset by this fait accompli, decided not to put our signature [tukataa kutia saini] to the agreement. If you read the minutes of the meeting, you will see that Abdillahi Nasser and Omar [Salim] Bassadique refused to sign the final agreement of the Lancaster House conference. In this agreement, certain conditions had been put forward such as e.g. the number of Kadhy should be increased and they should work not only in the region of Mwambao but rather throughout Kenya. It was also written that now the situation of Muslims [hali za waislamu itatizamwa] would be given more attention than before. That said, what was most important was the future of the people of Mwambao regarding their culture [utamaduni], religion [dini] and homes [makazi]. On these questions, there had been correspondence between Shamte, prime minister of Zanzibar at the time, and Jomo Kenyatta, Kenyan premier at the time. In one of these letters, Shamte reminded Kenyatta that they had agreed that Zanzibar would renounce the question of Mwambao. In return, Kenya must give to Muslim inhabitants of Mwambao, who were subjects of Zanzibar, the power to govern the affairs of Mwambao as part of the Kenyan state. In other words, Mwambao would belong to the Kenyan government, but the management of housing policy [makazi], education and training [masomo] and other important things in life would be the responsibility of the people of Mwambao. Those were the points on which Shamte and Jomo had agreed in their correspondence, which had started from London. In other words, this was like an agreement between the government [sirikali] of Zanzibar and that of Kenya, according to which Kenya’s governement should fulfill what it promised to do. But unfortunately it is not yet implemented. But as you see, our government has always been against these agreements. This is a summary of what was the situation regarding the issue of Mwambao. I think it gives a sufficient picture helping to understand what had happened.

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Chapter Six Now, after the accession of Kenya to its independence, our government reorganized the state into different provinces [majimbo]. There were also two major political parties who opposed each other; namely KANU and KADU. KANU was led by Kenyatta and KADU by Ngala. KANU had the majority of Kenyans for the simple reason that the major ethnic groups [makabila] of Kenya were in KANU, while the ethnic groups who were within KADU were the smallest of the country. In fact, KANU’s plan was to wait till England left Kenya and after that it would swallow [wataimeza] KADU. And that was indeed what happened: KANU swallowed KADU and the latter was completely dead afterwards. KANU has remained since then the only existing party. After independence, Mzee Jomo Kenyatta said: “Let us forgive but let us not forget” [Tusamehe lakini tusisahau]. Jomo Kenyatta did not say this for nothing. People realized later on that he was a very wise man [mtu Mwinyi busara] who did not like hatred. But when he said that, at that time, people did not understand. They understood it only a long time later. That is because in the struggle for independence during the Mau Mau rebellion, when people were hiding in the forest, Mzee Kenyatta was not supported by his own people, the people of Kiambu. Those who went into the forest with him were other Kikuyu like those of Central Province, Nyeri, Muranga and others. After independence, usually those in power favor first those who fought for independence; and neglect those who fought against it. This was apparently the opposite of what happened in Kenya. In fact, at the time of the rebellion, those who did not enter the forest of the Mau Mau were those who were well educated and trained by England. Those who were in the forest could not be formed. During this period, when England was preparing in secret its low blows that would be revealed after independence, it remembered the waJaluo. So, it pushed them forward by knowledge [ilimu]. This also because they constituted, after the Kikuyu, the second largest ethnic group. It was therefore necessary after independence that the state should be governed by these two ethnic groups who had knowledge. Therefore, when Kenyatta said: “Let us forgive but let us not forget,” he meant that he had really forgiven, because he had indeed taken those who were fighting against him and given them positions of responsibility, and those who were with him in the forest found themselves in poverty. This is why we see the hatred that until now has remained in Central Province. People said, “How? We were in the forest to fight the English and you have stayed with them to fight against us and after independence you took all positions of responsibility!” The second question we should raise here is that when we fought for independence, our leaders said that we were fighting for independence to manage our affairs ourselves. We should not deceive people [siyo mambo

Autonomy and Islamic Identity of Mwombao ya kunyanyanswa]! Indeed, since independence, the situation has remained the same until today, or even worse than before. We all lived in our country after independence. The situation is similar to the story of Aron [Karun]. According to the Qur ରƗn, God says that He had granted Aron much wealth. Aron boasted much. He said he had gained his wealth by his cleverness only and God or anything else did not help him in this. When he, as always, went out in his pomp, people who saw him, envied him and said, we wish we had riches like him! I told this Qur aର nic story during a conference held in London on the theme of “second liberation.” The Archbishop of Central Africa there was also invited to speak of Christian thought on the same theme of second liberation. After telling the story of Aron, I told the audience that when we fought for independence during the “first liberation,” our commitment was to govern ourselves. But as we fight today for the second liberation, it turns out that the first liberation was not a real one. For those who were struggling at that time were like the people who envied the riches of Aron. They were therefore not fighting in order that Africans could govern themselves, but rather to obtain for themselves what Europeans [Wazungu] had. Moreover, after independence, they lived in greater wealth than that in which European colonists had lived before independence. For the privileges that the Europeans had enjoyed were somewhat justified. The Europeans got compensation for the dog, a salary for the gardener [Shamba boy], a salary for the launderer [dobi]. But they actually had dogs, gardeners, launderers. But the African elites who governed their countries after independence got these same privileges without having dogs, gardeners, launderers. Therefore, today we have got to a point where we are forced to fight a battle to free ourselves again. To get free from whom, since the colonizer is gone? Well, we have to free ourselves from our African brothers! That is why we are now entering into a second liberation! In this situation, our history teaches us that Mzee Jomo Kenyata, after taking the leadership of KANU, became chief of the state. First, KADU was eliminated. Only one party existed, namely KANU. Laws had been passed to establish KANU as the only party allowed to exist and a system of government which would implement only the “diktat” [imla] of this party. The only word that prevailed and that was worthy was that of the president. To the point that when people who fought together with him for independence, such as Odinga Odinga, reminded him that they did not fight for that, we know what happened to them [yaliwapata yalowapata]. These are things that you all know. What was the ethnic group that held the senior positions? It was only his ethnic group. To the point that, if we walk in Salim Road or Digo Road in Mombasa, we will see that the great buildings, great restaurants and hotels found there belong to the Kikuyu. This is also the case of the large lots we find at the coast. When he [Kenyatta] died, it was found that according to the constitution [katiba] the one who had to succeed him should be his assistant of that time and his vice-president. So a campaign [kampeni] was

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Chapter Six launched to try to change the constitution and prevent Moi from becoming the president, but in vain. They managed to do the same with Tom Mboya, playing on his age. Finally after the death of Kenyatta, Moi took power. He quickly noticed the intrigues which were fomenting against him and he dismissed Njonjo. Throughout this period [kipindi], nothing had been done for Muslims, except perhaps that the government chose their leaders, in their place. Muslim ambassadors were appointed; those Muslims who were Liwali became DC [district commissioner] since the Liwali system had been abolished. We had a deputy governer of the Central Bank and other officials. But this was all political strategies. This was done to deceive Muslims. So, Muslims should understand. When fighting for their rights, they should not be deceived. They should not accept that their leaders, who are supposed to go to represent them in government, should be chosen by someone other than themselves. Because accepting that someone else chooses your leaders for you is like someone who works as a driver [dereva] for a rich person. When he is sick, for example, he does not get in the car, he is given instead a few pennies to take a matatu [shared taxi]. But if he happens to see on the road the car of his boss conducted by this latter or by someone else, he will exclaim: “this is my car!” This is the situation of people for whom two or three leaders are choosen and who think that in so doing the whole community [Umma] got something. Yes, there are Muslim leaders in government. But what have the Muslims of this country received from that? They are sick but they do not have doctors, they are not well trained, they do not have land, etc. Each of these leaders is concerned about his life and his personal interests. Who among them has ever thought once that Muslims need land for particular activities, and has therefore commited to get the land for the community first, instead of taking the land for himself ? That is how the situation of Muslims in this country has evolved. The commitments made on the issue of Mwambao, according to which we Muslims would be in positions of responsibility at home in Mwambao, were not respected. Even the political principle of the present government that stipulates that the leaders of the state companies found in each region must be people who come from the region in question is not applied with regard to Muslims. We are not at Kilindini [Mombasa port]! However, according to the same political principle and according to Kenyan law, in Kilindini we are the majority. The state companies that are in the country of the wajaluo

Autonomy and Islamic Identity of Mwombao [Ujaluoni] and in Central Province are directed respectively by a Mjaluo and Mkikuyu because they are in both cases the majority community. So, these are important things that concern us but we have neglected them. And this is our situation until today. This is unacceptable! What should we do now? The first thing to do is that we must recognize that we are full citizens of this country like any other citizen [mwenyeji]. Regarding citizenship [uwenyeji], you should not ask someone to recognize your citizenship. No, you should recognize yourself that you are a citizen and tell yourself that you have the same rights as other citizens. You should not underestimate yourself and say for example: “their government,” while the government is also yours! And if my mistake is that my name is Abdillahi, or Muhammad, or Rukiya or Hadija, well, then Margaret, John and Peter must also be wrong to call themselves by these names! Why should Peter be accepted and not me? If I’m not African because I am mixed blood [nimechanganya damu] so also the son of Njonjo would not be African, because he is a mixed blood; there is not a mkikuyu of that color! Why should we be automatically foreign when the skin color is a little different?! In this situation, if we want to be recognized and respected [kutambuliwa] in this country, we have to distinguish ourselves in one of two powers: (1) economic power [Nguvu ya Uchumi];or (2) political power. Look, for example at Agha Khan when he comes here to visit. How is he received? There is no minister who does not go to airport to welcome him. Does Agha Khan have a state? Is he a head of state? Why all these honors? Well, thanks to his economic power. Look how immense is the propaganda made about the day of the commemoration of Diwali of the Baniyani and compare it to the almost nonexistent propaganda made for the day of Muslims, ‫ޏ‬Ʈd. Think about that and ask yourself how many Baniyani and how many Muslims we have? Why does the Baniyani Diwali festival enjoy far greater publicity than the Muslims’ ‫ޏ‬Ʈd? Well, thanks to the economic power of the Baniyani. Look how the traffic is when their Raja comes here to visit. The Baniyani occupy the streets, car traffic is blocked! Now compare that to when you are organizing a mawlid! Now if you do not have economic power, you should not fail to have political power! However it is not easy to acquire it. You will not get it only by slogans. TakbƯr only does not give strength! Because the one to whom you throw the cry of takbƯr knows that you do not have strength. You are agitating yourself in the mosque only. The man who is in his home, in his baraza, is not on your side. Whatever the cries of delusions you launch here, he knows that you cannot do anything against him. Otherwise, if you were really a threat to him, you would have seen his son getting ready to retaliate, whether in Central Province or in Nyanza

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Chapter Six Province. He would have already hurt you. But because you do not represent any threat to them, they will invite you to talk about whatever you want. Then they will answer and that’s it! Now, if you really want to do something, you should find out how to realize the claims of Muslims in this country and how it will benefit the entire Muslim community of this country. So if you say something here on behalf of the community, the members of the Muslim community in Lamu will listen to you and will take the same position as yours without let himself being disturbed by anyone. Otherwise, you will cry in vain all your life! Now, why is the West alarmed by the revival of Islam in the Maghreb countries? Furthermore, I have just come back, a few days ago, from a trip to United States of America. There, the political authorities are concerned to know why there are very few Muslims among recidivist prisoners. What makes it the case that only very few among released Muslim prisoners return to prison again after being lectured by their spiritual authorities [mashehi], while among Christian released prisoners, 80% are recidivists, returning, therefore, to prison? We also need to understand one thing: that in the problems that the Muslim countries of the East have been going through, the West [Wazungu] has to protect their interests there. Here also in Africa, they have their interests that they are afraid of losing. In the same way that they have studied the activities of Muslims elsewhere, they are currently studying the activities of Muslims here. If you are now starting with your takbƯr, takbƯr, to do what the others elsewhere are doing, wanting to copy what you see in Lebanon, Iran, Egypt, etc., the West will be frightened and think that you are like the other Muslims in the East. But here, we are not like the others there. How many political parties like the Algerian FIS do we have here? If we were like in Algeria, we would have been exterminated long ago. With our takbƯr, takbir, we are like someone who has a toy gun and wants to go and fight with someone armed with a real gun. We must first have real guns. I do not mean the gun literally, no! I mean we must first arrive at a level of an awakening of the spirit [muamko wakuelewa] that is different from an awakening of enthusiasm only [muamko wa hamasa]. The latter is in effect similar to the foam of piss [Muamko wa hamasa ni povu la mkojo]. The awakening of the spirit is, for example, when you start to explain to someone why he accepts being bought with 500 shillings to vote for this or that person in an election. So we need to organize seminars [maseminar] to form young people who will go on afterwards to explain things well to people. We will explain to Muslims why other poor people like us can reject 500 shillings in elections, while we Muslims here, we are not able to do so while we hold the power of the Qur ରƗn and the তadƯths of the Prophet. With such arguments, you will find that people will not take the 500 shillings.

Autonomy and Islamic Identity of Mwombao Moreover, Muslims must understand that their main tool is not a political organization or party, but here, the mosque and the minbar. Muslims have 54 opportunities each year during which they can talk about their problems. For example, if Muslims should start a project, whether here or elsewhere in Majengo, they have first to ensure that each mosque has its territory, its perimeter [eneo], within which it has authority. Often Muslims say: “we are 8 million Muslims here.” Where is the proof? There is no concrete evidence of that. This is only an extrapolation. If the Catholic Church says that Catholics are 10 million, it will give concrete evidence of that, it has registers. What hinders Muslims from granting each mosque a territory over which it would have authority? In Islam, one can be an imƗm and administrator at the same time. Why can we not agree to decide, for example, that the territory of the Sakina Mosque will be from such a road to such other road? All who live in this territory will be under the authority of Sakina Mosque, regardless of whether all of those people come to pray or not. What will be important will be that the mosque has the duty to know how many people there are under its authority, how many women, men, their ages, those in school, those who are not in school, those who work, those who do not work, those who know this or that profession, etc. These are all things that the mosque should know, like the church that has these kinds of information about its flock. Only by doing so, can we know, in the end, the number of Muslims in Mombasa. We will be able, later, to say that we are such a number of Muslims in Mombasa and we have the proof. Normally, the muezzin of the mosque would simply appeal at 10a.m. if we have something to inform the community, exactly like as the Prophet used to do. If the Prophet had something to communicate to Muslims, a Qur ରanic revelation or something else, the muezzin called the Muslims at 10a.m. and everyone came to hear the news. Why not do the same today? Who will prohibit that? Who will prohibit Muslims from coming to the mosque and learning the news of the day? For example, to inform them what kind of instructions they will be given on the day of Friday prayer. There are indeed responsibilities that the state should have taken, but it did not. Now, regarding the Umma, the Prophet said that “All Muslims are like brothers to each other” [innama al-mu ରminuna ikhwa]. He always took steps to ensure that this brotherhood became real in everyday life. He said that it is not permissible for a Muslim to eat to satiety and sleep when another Muslim neighbor is hungry. How many today among Muslims know their neighbors? How many people pray together in the same mosque for years and do not know where each of them lives?! Yet these are the kinds of things on which the Prophet placed great importance. Today if, in a mosque, people do not see one of their number at collective

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Chapter Six prayer (JamƗ‫ޏ‬a), during the dawn prayer (al-Fajiri) or at the noon prayer (Adhuhuri), who thinks for a moment to go and inquire after him? Now, it is in such a situation that a fraternity [undugu] is built up. That is why, when God speaks in the Qur ରƗn of people who lie about religion he says, “Have you seen the one who lies about the religion? That is the one who mistreats the fatherless” [ara ରayta ladhƯ yukadhdhibu bi alDƯn. FadhƗlika al-ladhƯ yadu‫ޏޏ‬u al-yatƯm]. God did not say that he who lies about religion is the one who does not pray or who does not fast during Ramadan; no! He said it is the one who abuses the orphan. Today, how many orphans do we find among Muslims? The orphan you and the whole community [Umma] neglect is someone who has lost his parents. Do you think he will have a good feeling for you? You neglect him, the Christians collect him and take care of him, and you keep repeating “All Muslims are brothers …” [innamƗ al-mu ରminnjna ikhwa …]. What do you mean?! Your brother who prayed every day with you died and you do not care about his children? So the mosque should be considered as a center [markaz]. It should find out how many orphans do exist in the territory over which it has authority. Do they have enough to eat? Do they have a home? Are they going to school, etc.? So Muslims are one community, they devote themselves to assisting each other and so the union and friendship between them becomes stronger. If you want us to be together and united but you do not want to give a little of what you earn to other Muslims who are in need, how could this work? “Have you seen the one who lies about the religion? He is the one who mistreats the orphan and does not encourage people to give food to the poor. Woe to those who forget their prayers, those who are hypocrites and refuse to provide assistance to those in need.” [Araa aର yta al-ladhƯ yukadhdhibu bi al-DƯn. fadhƗlika al-ladhƯ yadu‫ޏޏ‬u alyatƯm. wa la yaতuঌঌu ‫ޏ‬alƗ ৬a‫ޏ‬Ɨmi al-miskƯn. Fa waylu li al-muৢallƯn alladhƯna hum ‫ޏ‬an ৢalƗtihim sƗhnjn al-ladhƯna hum yurƗ‫ޏ‬njna wa yamna‫ޏ‬njna al-mƗ‫ޏ‬njn]. So, these are the rules established by God to build a fraternity [kujenga undugu]. Fraternity is not built solely of verbiage. It is like the way that we always mention Qur ରanic verses when we are talking about difficult social problems in terms like: “Be careful these days, the flour [drug] is widespread in our society”! Talking about the problem in this way changes nothing, and this leads to nothing! Rather, we should think together about how we can stop the drugs from spreading. We should, for example, ask about the reason for its spread and not just shout: “the drug is illicit [haramu]”! Because everyone knows that drugs are illicit [তarƗm]. Everyone also knows that the bangi [Indian hemp, marijuana] is illicit. He who begins to consume these things lives in circumstances that led him to do so. Seek, first, to know what are those circumstances and explain then to the public so that it can understand. Sometimes someone is in great

Autonomy and Islamic Identity of Mwombao difficulty, and think that if he drinks two or three bottles of beer [bia] he will forget his problems. Of course he is mistaken in thinking and doing that. For he will say, I will drink two or three bottles to forget every time, and after that he will become a drunkard [mlevi]. Helping him to abandon this problem is the responsibility of the community [Umma] and the whole society [mujtamaa]. So if we are well organized, our voice will be well heard in this country. The mosque will be able to capture the individual in the community who has made a mistake and take care to correct and rehabilitate him. There is not another way for the Islamic community to be strong [kuwa na Power] as a good organization [kwa organization]. In his book Nahju al-balƗgha, Sayyidna ‫ޏ‬AlƯ wrote: “I recommend you to fear God and to properly organize your affairs” [njৢƯkum bi taqwƗ Allah wa nazzimnj umnjrakum]. The first thing the Prophet did was to build a mosque, and all his affairs were settled in the mosque. The mosque should not only be a place of prayer [ma‫ޏ‬bad], it must also be the place where we settle our affairs. We should not wait for the municipality to go and pick up our rubbish. We should do it ourselves. Islam encourages cleanliness. People who are paid by the district will do it for the benefit of all of us, starting with the fact that it will protect us from diseases. In addition, people who clean the district will complete a recommendation of the Prophet. If things have been realized in this way, well, tomorrow if we ask people not to pay money to the municipality because we the community will take care to clean our city ourselves, they will listen. But if we tell them that today in our current situation, they will not listen. So what should be done now? In my opinion, we should organize ourselves [kujiorganise]. Outbreaks of enthusiasm will only eliminate the one who provokes it. The community must understand and realize that it should have the power of the economy or that of politics. Until now, it has neither the one nor the other. Dear brothers, I think the time I have taken has been enough for what I have just told you. I have explained to you the beginnings of our history, how we have been led to where we are today and how we are still treated today as we were in the past, and what are the steps we need to take in order to be really worthy people [ili tuweze kukaya watu]. And do not fool yourself, dear brothers, we are not worthy people [sisi si watu]! No one is afraid of us! Because everyone knows that we cannot do anything against anyone! That said, to teach people and to explain things to them, there is no better place than here, on the minbar. And yet, we do not use the minbar enough. Those who are preachers should ask those with modern knowledge to teach them this knowledge. So when they preach, they will do it knowingly. Because there are things, for example, regarding the policy and the modern state that the preacher trained in the traditional system cannot know. He must ask someone else to teach him. Then, when he speaks in his preaching about this modern knowledge, he will add Qur ରanic verses and তadƯths in order that people understand him better.

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Finally, I still remind you that the organization [NizƗm] is very important. And Muslims should consider how they should properly use mosques and minbars. [End]

Some Comments By its well-structured form and well-supported argument, the above discourse is more like a conference speech than a preaching, although it was held in a mosque. It is a masterful lecture on the history of Mwambao. This speech is, in my opinion, of great importance for several reasons, but the most important reason consists of the preacher, or more exactly the lecturer, Shaykh Abdillahi Nassir. He actively took a part in all struggles that coastal people (watu wapwani, waswahili) of Kenya in particular and Muslims of the country in general have conducted in the last 50 years. The lecturer wants to be very educational. This didactic aspect, or even schoolteacher manner, is especially noticeable in how he has built his speech. To be convince, it suffices to note the three separate parts of the speech: introduction, development and conclusion. At the end of his speech, he summarizes his words in broad outlines. Before entering into the matter, he recalled that Muslim preachers usually have two styles of preaching: they aim to enthuse people (kuhamasisha), or to teach them something (kuelimisha). The first way, which he associates with the cries of “Allah Akbar” launched sometimes in the audience, is, for him, without interest, although it is the most used. He compares this first method of preaching, in a derogatory manner, to the “scum of piss” (povu la mkojo).1 This way of preaching can certainly impress in the moment. But it has little lasting effect, he argues. The second method of preaching, which is to teach something to the audience, is the one that Shaykh Abdillahi claims to practice.2 While this second approach aims to induce a spirit of awakening (muamuko wa kuelewa), the first can only produce an awakening of a pure excitement only (muamuko wa hamasa). Here, Shaykh Abdillahi seems also to criticize the supporters of al-Saতwa al-islƗmiyya (Awakening of Islam). 1

In Mombasa, many Muslims did not like the contemptuous expression “povu la mkojo” used here by Shaykh Abdillahi. 2 I noticed that in Mombasa the people who appreciated him called him simply “Shaykh Abdillahi.”

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This new ideology often consists only of slogans and shouts of “Allah Akbar!” (takbƯr) only. After this introduction, the shaykh begins to treat his subject. The general idea of his speech is to say that from the period of the struggles that led the country to independence until today, the situation of Muslims in the country has gone from bad to worse. And if Muslims are not satisfied with their situation (and they are certainly not satisfied, he adds), what should they then do? Shaykh Abdillahi recalls that while it is true that what happened to Muslims was the result of a plot by British and Kenyan politicians of Christian denomination mainly from the two major ethnic groups, Kikuyu and Luo, some Muslim politicians also had responsibility in this situation. Indeed, these Muslim politicians, by supporting this plot, for personal reasons, contributed to dividing Muslims. This division of Muslims was the primary cause of the failure of their claim for the autonomy of their region, Mwambao, during the period of the struggle for independence. Shaykh Abdillahi, who, in the Kenyan delegation that negotiated independence with the English government, defended the autonomy of Mwambao, relates the course of the history of this struggle. This speech deals with various issues that reveal the origins of the malaise of Kenyan Muslims. One of them is that of the citizenship (uwenyeji/Uraia) of Kenyan Muslims in general, and especially those of the coast. Shaykh Abdillahi recalls how, at the time of the struggles for independence, the theme of slavery (utumwa) was used to stigmatize Islam and Muslims in order to divide them into the so-called “African Muslims” on one side, and the “non-African” Muslims on the other. These latter were Arabs, that is to say Afro-Arabs (in the majority) and Indians. People recalled that Muslim Arabs were slave traders and that Islam is a religion which encourages slave trade. They said also that if the Muslims of the coast (Mwambao) gained autonomy they would be under the influence of Arabs who would restore slavery. So the so-called “African Muslims” were raised against Afro-Arabs and Indians Muslims, as if, said Shaykh Abdillahi, these latter were not Africans. He adds, “If I am not African because I am a mixed blood, in this case, the son of Njonjo3 is not African 3

Njonjo was a Kikuyu who was attorney general in the government of Jomo Kenyatta (a mkikuyu too) and held other ministerial positions in the government of Arap Moi. Njonjo had married a European woman with whom he had children of mixed heritage.

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either.” “Why would we be strangers when the skin color is a little different?” insists Shaykh Abdillahi.4 This scarecrow of the slave trade and the slavery of Muslim Arabs in East Africa was also discussed by the Tanzanian Shaykh Hashim Mbongo in one of his sermonss. The issue of the stigmatization of Muslims in the region using the specter of slavery is still relevant in the debate today. Even when the term is not used, the effect is present in the marginalization of Muslims. It is in this context that one can understand the call of Shaykh Abdillahi to Kenyan Muslims to start first to consider themselves full citizens along with other non-Muslim Kenyans, and especially those of up-country. In Tanzania, we can say that the reintegration of Muslims into the sociopolitical arena and into citizenship is about to succeed. In Kenya, it is being done through the formation of Muslim communities in the up-country following the new conversions to Islam. We therefore find ‫ޏ‬ulamƗ ର and Muslim activists of the up-country such as Shaykh Khamis Khalfan and Abdurrahman Wandati in the public sphere of the country. This preaching of Shaykh Abdillahi allows us also to understand an important social issue which has concerned Muslims in Mombasa since the late 1990s. This is the use of hard drugs that had spread among the youth. I personally saw the extent of this problem when I visited the rehabilitation house for drug-addicted people run by MEWA (Muslim Education and Welfare Association). All the young drug addicts who were there were Muslims. In Mombasa, the drug was called by the euphemism “unga” (flour). Shaykh Abdillahi recalls that it is not enough to say that unga is illicite (haram) as did most people in Mombasa, because everyone knows that. Rather, he adds, we should begin to understand why some young people take drugs. We should begin to understand the hard problems of their lives that led them to the consumption of drugs, and then trying to bring solutions for them. This way of observing and analyzing the drugs problem without demonization was new among ‫ޏ‬ulamƗ ର. But Shaykh Abdillahi was unique; a unique case that will probably be emulated. The other criticism that deserves mention here is the one that Shaykh Abdillahi makes against African elites in the postcolonial state. He criticizes 4

Racial and ethnic divisions in Zanzibar were much stronger at the same time or even before. See, on the case of Zanzibar, Jonathan Glassman, “Sorting Out the Tribes: The Creation of Racial Identities in Colonial Zanzibar’s Newspaper Wars,” Journal of African History, vol. 41, no. 3, 2005, pp. 395–428.

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them, rightly, for having ruined what he calls the first liberation, that is to say the formal independence from the European colonizer. These elites have spoiled the first liberation by their corruption, their dictatorship system and, in general, their poor governance. The worst thing, he says – and this is in my opinion where “Africa had got a bad start” – was that the new elites had failed or had not been able to create a new state adapted to the needs of Africans and run according endogenous means. They had, on the contrary, wanted to copy the colonial state in everything. The elite wanted to have the same (or more) benefits and privileges that the European colonizers had. Thus, for example, Shaykh Abdillahi reminds us, they received, like the former colonizers, financial compensation for boys, gardeners, launderers, when in fact they did not have those workers in their homes. Shaykh Abdillahi concludes his sermon by saying that Kenyan Muslims must take care of their problems themselves. If they do not have political power, they can individually invest in business for economic power. He advises Muslims to follow, in this matter, the example of Kenya’s Indian communities such as Agha Khan and the Ismailis of the Bohra and Banyani. So far, one can not contradict him. Socially, he recommends Muslims to organize themselves, particularly around mosques and to use the minbar as the venue par excellence where they can spread their information. This solution that he advocates is, in my oipnion, very reactionary and conservative. It is completely the opposite of the very clever way he paints the evolution of Kenya’s political situation in general and that of Kenyan Muslims in particular. In fact, the importance which Shaykh Abdillahi gives to the mosque and the minbar comes, obviously, from the Islamic Republic of Iran, where the minbar has became the place where the leaders of the state communicate their decisions to the people during each Friday prayer. What is surprising is the fact that Shaykh Abdillahi does not mention the strong political commitment of Kenyan Muslims that I had seen during my field research, while he discusses this political commitment aplenty and with persuasive details when it concerns the past. It is as if he advises Muslims to lose interest in politics. Does this mean that Shaykh Abdillahi had forgotten the former claims to autonomy of Mwambao, even while the question still arises occasionally in the news? Or is it that, for him, the economic power of Muslims and their good social organization should proceed first, and only then can they start to talk about the autonomy of Mwambao?

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In truth, Shaykh Abdillahi no longer believes in an improvement in the political situation of Muslims in Kenya. He would prefer that they dedicate themselves to business and to support themselves in all aspects of their lives, just as do the various Indian communities in the country. Would this be a good solution?

“Taqiyya: Kwa nini Kulaumiwa Shia?” (Dissimulation of One’s True Beliefs in Adverse Circumstances: Why Have the ShƯ‫ޏ‬a Been Criticized for It?) What follows is a another preaching of Shaykh Abdillahi Nassir, again translated from the Kiswahili by me. “Mungwana lake nimoyoni” (The truth of a free person is in his heart; Swahili proverb) God says in the Qur ରƗn: “Believers should not make disbelievers their friends rather than other believers. He who does such thing will isolate himself from God, unless those people would otherwise constitute a danger to you. God warns you to beware of Him; the final return will be to God” [3: Ɩl-‫ޏ‬ImrƗn, 28]. This part of the verse – “unless those people would constitute a danger to you” – is, according to the commentators on the Qur‫ގ‬Ɨn, a permission to use taqiyya. This means that if a Muslim finds that saying or doing what he thinks is right according to his religion will put him in danger, Islam allows him to say or do the opposite. But if his faith is so strong that he prefers to say or do what he believes is right according to Islam, even at the expense of his life, Islam does not prohibit him from doing that. Some companions of the Prophet practiced taqiyya, such as ‫ޏ‬AmmƗr b. YƗsir. Even ImƗm Ibn ণanbal also used taqiyya. So, we see here that companions of the Prophet and great ‫ޏ‬ulamƗ ର also used taqiyya. In the use of taqiyya, one also uses language in different ways. For example, someone was asked to say who was, for him, the best of all Muslims after the Prophet. We know that there have been discussions among Muslims on the question of who was the best Muslim after Muতammad, Abnjbakr or ‫ޏ‬AlƯ. To answer the question, the person used the so-called “thawriyya.” Indeed, he replied that the best is the one whose wife is below him in merit [tini yake].

Autonomy and Islamic Identity of Mwombao This means that the woman in question could be FƗ৬ima, who is below ‫ޏ‬AlƯ in merit, but it could also be Abnjbakr. So it was an answer that could save him from the aggressiveness of those who had asked the question. Also here among us, we have expressions that demonstrate the need for the use of taqiyya. For example, we say “Mungwana lake nimoyoni” [The truth of a free person is in his heart]. In this vein, even lying is sometimes highly recommended. ImƗm GhazzƗlƯ wrote somewhere in his book IhyƗ ࡖ ҵulnjm al-dƯn [Revival of the Religious Sciences] that, “According Maymnjn b. Mahran: lying is, in certain circumstances, an obligation” [al-kadhbu fƯ ba‫ޏ‬ঌ al-mawƗqif wƗjib]. GhazzƗlƯ continues, saying: “Suppose a person is prosecuted by someone armed with a sword wanting to kill him. The person has taken refuge in your home, and the other person who wanted to kill him also subsequently enters your home and asks if you saw the person he wanted to kill. Will you say that you saw him and he has already taken refuge in your home? Of course not: you will not say that. There, you would have lied. But in this case, lying is required.” In some situations it would even be highly recommended to lie. For example, for someone like an ‫ޏ‬Ɨlim dƗ‫ޏ‬Ư who, if he loses his life, would be a great loss to Islam. In such a situation, not to practice taqiyya would not be an act of courage. If, then, the companions of the Prophets and the ‫ޏ‬ulamƗ ର all practiced taqiyya, if other Sunni Muslims still practice it, why do we consider taqiyya as exclusively ShƯ‫ޏ‬a? To answer this question, we should return to the history. In the history of Islam, we find that the ShƯ‫ޏ‬a were severely persecuted [wana teswa sana]. Today, we read and hear a lot about the persecution that the German Nazis and others have perpetrated on the Jewish people in history. But the persecutions of which the ShƯ‫ޏ‬a were subject in history are far more severe than those suffered by the Jews. These persecutions were of two kinds, economic and physical. Brief Introduction on the Importance of History I often tell my brothers that it is unfortunate that we do not learn our history very well. Because otherwise we would better understand what is happening today in our country and we would be much better able to confront it. For if we look closely, we realize that history repeats itself [tarehe ya jirudiya yenyewe/al-TƗrƯkh yu‫ޏ‬Ưdu nafsahu/history repeats itself]. For my part, I can tell you that people like Matiba, Moi, Njonjo, Muhite, etc. will not teach me history! Unfortunately, I repeat again, everything was set up in order that we ignore our past. And this is where the danger lies. For if a person does not know where he comes from and where he is, it will be difficult for him to know where he should go. For example, an important part of the history of the city of Mombasa is lost today. There are streets that have names which are different than those they had in the

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Chapter Six past; but we do not seek to learn why the name of a particular street has been changed. We should not learn the history to arouse hatred [chuki], because hatred has no use anywhere, but simply to know how things went. So we would, for example, know that things went wrong for our predecessors because they committed this or that mistake. So we would try, at least, not to repeat the same mistake. But if a person revives the hatred of the past, he will destroy his future and that of his people. Now let’s look at some important sequences in the history of Islam The History of the Emergence of the Practice of Taqiyya After the death of the Prophet, Muslims fought, for long time, against each other and the victors seized power. One day, one of those who had seized power sent to his provincial governors a circular containing the following recommendation: “Look carefully among the officials of your administration. If you find someone who loves ‫ޏ‬AlƯ and his family [ahl baytihi], sack him and cut off his means of living” [un਌urnj ilƗ man qƗmat ‫ޏ‬alayhi al-bayyinat annahu yuতibbu ‫ޏ‬AlƯ wa ahla baytihi fa anfnjhu mina aldiwƗn wa ahbitnj ‫ޏ‬a৬Ɨ aର hu wa rizqahu]. These processes still exist today. We are still creating difficulties among ourselves. Someone brings to those in power false reports about his Muslim brother, and this latter is fired from his job. When he looks for another job somewhere else, he does not find it. If he wants to open a business, those in power do not grant him the license. In fact, no one would clearly tell him that they do not want to give him the license; no! He would seek it, many times, from the competent administration, to no avail, until he would get discouraged and give up the case. They would persecute him until he submits [mpaka aje wenye mstari; lit. until he gets to the line]. In a situation like this where the person risks seeing the means of his living being cut off, he will say, therefore, that he does not like ‫ޏ‬AlƯ. The circular continues: “Whoever you suspect of supporting these people [‫ޏ‬AlƯ and his family], expel him from the country and destroy his house” [man ittahamtumnjhum bi muwƗlƗti hƗ ର ulƗ ର al-qawm fa naqilnj bihi wa hdimnj dƗrahu]. Regarding physical persecution, for lack of time I have chosen a few examples. Take the example of Thamra b. Ghullu. He was appointed governor of Baৢra by ZiyƗd. He was killing people in their masses. One day he went to Knjfa and killed 8,000 people. ZiyƗd asked him: “Are you not afraid of killing an innocent among all these people?” He answered: “Even if I had killed 8,000 more I would not have been afraid.” All these 8,000 people he killed were ShƯ‫ޏ‬a!

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ImƗm al-৫abarƯ reports in his book of history [TƗrƯkh al-ܑabarƯ] that this Thamra killed in one morning 47 people who all had memorized the Qur ରƗn. They were also ShƯ‫ޏ‬a. This Thamra had also captured a large number of women from HamadƗn [a ShƯ‫ޏ‬a city] and sold them as slaves in the market. Ibn al-AthƯr, author of the book al-KƗmil, wrote: “Everything that Thamra did was in order to serve perfectly Mu‫ޏ‬Ɨwiya’s power,” though he cursed Mau‫ޏ‬Ɨwiya when this latter left him in disgrace. The second example, who killed even more ShƯ‫ޏ‬a, was ZiyƗd b. Sumayya, also known by the name of ZiyƗd b. AbƯhi. According to history, and even Shaykh ‫ޏ‬Abdallah al-Farisi wrote it in one of his books, ZiyƗd was in reality a natural child without a father, hence the name of ZiyƗd b. AbƯhi [lit. ZiyƗd son of his father]. But when the war between Mu‫ޏ‬Ɨwiya had been launched, between SayyidnƗ ‫ޏ‬AlƯ and Mu‫ޏ‬Ɨwiya, this latter, by strategy, presented him as his brother from the same father, Abnj SufyƗn; hence, ZiyƗd won confidence for himself and people would trust him much more. This ZiyƗd used to gather people at the door of his palace and order them to curse ‫ޏ‬AlƯ. He killed anyone who refused to obey. Ibn al-AthƯr wrote that ZiyƗd cut off the hands of about 30 people from the city of Knjfa; all were ShƯ‫ޏ‬a. The third largest slaughterer of ShƯ‫ޏ‬a was committed by Abnj Ja‫ޏ‬far b. Manৢnjr, who also persecuted ‫ޏ‬ulamƗ ର who refused to say that the Qur ରƗn is created.5 He one day gathered all the children and grandchildren of SayyidnƗ al-ণasan b. ‫ޏ‬AlƯ and ordered chains to be put on their necks, hands and feet, then put them in a place underground without light where they could not distinguish day from night. They therefore could not know the times of the obligatory prayers [ৢalƗt]. They were doing what they needed to in the same place; their skin swelled and they died of disease and hunger. These were Muslims who were suffered from their Muslim brothers the worst, unimaginable persecution. The same Manৢnjr once ordered that Muতammad b. ‫ޏ‬AbdillƗh al-‫ޏ‬UthmƗnƯ [a half-brother of SayyidnƗ al-ণasan b. ‫ޏ‬AlƯ] should be brought before him. He ordered him to be stripped completely naked and then given 150 lashes, and at the end ordered him to be killed. Ibn al-AthƯr continues the story and writes that Manৢnjr also ordered that Muতammad b. IbrahƯm b. al-ণasan b. ‫ޏ‬AlƯ should be brought before him. He was a young man of great beauty. He said, “since you are so beautiful, I will kill you in an exceptional way never seen before.” He built a colonnade inside which he placed the young man alive. 5

This is an allusion to an 8th-century Islamic theological debate between those who argued that the Qur ରƗn was created by God, and those who argued that the Qur ରƗn is the word of God and therefore a part of Him rather than having been created by Him.

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Chapter Six As we see, all these events are reported by famous ‫ޏ‬ulamƗ ର such as Ibn alAthƯr and al-৫abarƯ. Thus, people who experienced such monstrosities were forced to practice taqiyya. Historians report that during those days, one preferred to be called atheist [zindiq] or infidel [kƗfir] rather than ShƯ‫ޏ‬a. No one even dared to pronounce the name of ‫ޏ‬AlƯ, even in religious matters. When anyone should absolutely mention his name, as in the case of a তadƯth reported by him, he said only Abnj Zaynab [lit. Zaynab’s father]. It was like a code name. When the ShƯ‫ޏ‬a heard “Abnj Zaynab,” they knew he was ‫ޏ‬AlƯ. According to imƗm Abnj ণanƯfa, the Umayyads did not decree fatwas by referring to ‫ޏ‬AlƯ. His name was not pronounced. When ‫ޏ‬ulamƗ ର should mention, for example, a tradition reported by him, they used the phrase “QƗla al-Shaykh/According to the shaykh.” It was also forbidden for the people to give their children the name ‫ޏ‬AlƯ. These are a few examples. But if you read the history books, you will find hundreds. Even today, in countries like Pakistan, Muslims kill other Muslims in mosques, simply because they are ShƯ‫ޏ‬a. If it is forbidden to kill an infidel who has taken refuge in a mosque during a war of jihad, how can it be allowed that a Muslim kills another Muslim who is praying in the mosque, even if he is ShƯ‫ޏ‬a? Things like this, we do not want them here at home. Because here, in our history, we are used to arguing, quarreling, to diverging on any particular matter; but we do not kill each other for it. Let us therefore be careful not to bring such monstrosities here, otherwise we will get into big problems. Take, for example, what happened to me because of Shi‫ޏ‬ism [kwa sibabu ya ushia]! I was fired from the position I held in the WAMY. A dozen ‫ޏ‬ulamƗ ର came one day to my office to argue with me, without having informed me beforehand. What mattered to them was to create hatred. Luckily, they came with a tape recorder to record the discussion. Thank God we still have the tapes of this discussion. But the discussion was in English, unfortunately for those who do not know English. I was also dismissed from the main mosque [Jamia Mosque] in Nairobi where I was preaching, though I never talked about anything that could offend non-ShƯ‫ޏ‬a. I only tried to attract Christians to come and listen to my sermons or encourage them to listen to them on audio and video cassettes. At the end these people were converted to Islam. Despite all that, I was fired from the mosque. The same people wanted to create problems for me in the mosque of Pumwani [in Nairobi], where I had organized religious lessons [darasa] since 1965. So I withdrew myself from this mosque. One of our scientists, an old friend who offered me his whole library as gift, does not talk to me now anymore. When he meets me in the street, he crosses the road because he does not want to see me. Yet he is a university professor. It should be

Autonomy and Islamic Identity of Mwombao expected that he understands the normality of difference of opinions in science. But no! Hatreds have taken over everything. In the mosques, they insulted me continuously. During one ‫ޏ‬Ʈd day, leaflets were distributed here in Mombasa inviting people not to talk to me, not to say hello, in short to cut all contact with me. Why? Because of Shi’ism [kwa ushia]. Things have worsened so much that some people were paid to disturb my preachings and my lectures in mosques and elsewhere where I was invited to speak. In Nairobi, a 14-year-old was killed only because he was ShƯ‫ޏ‬a. But after all, where is the problem? What is the difference between a ShƯ‫ޏ‬a and a Sunni? The ShƯ‫ޏ‬a professes the same creed as the Sunni, namely “There is no God but Allah and Muতammad is His Prophet/LƗ IlƗha illa AllƗh, Muতammad Rasnjlu AllƗh.” They perfom the five daily mandatory prayers [ৢalƗt], they fast for RamaঌƗn, undertake the obligatory charity [zakat] and the pilgrimage to Mecca. In other words, Sunnis and ShƯ‫ޏ‬a perform the same pillars of Islam [arkƗn al-islƗm]. It is a historical hatred [Chuki ya Historia] which is at the origin of this divergence. Hatred which has been maintained for a long time and which continues today. I met one day someone who had liked me a lot before I declared that I had become ShƯ‫ޏ‬a [kabla sija tangaza kwamba nime tashayya‫]ޏ‬. He said: “I heard you became ShƯ‫ޏ‬a !? So you have become non-Muslim [kƗfir]!” I said to him: “I would like to ask you the following question. Between me and you, who knows Islam better?” “You,” he said. So, I said to him, “Questions about Shi‫ޏ‬ism and Sunnism are matters of Islamic religious sciences. If you recognize that I know Islam better than you, why should I give up my knowledge of Islam to follow your ignorance on the subject? If it was to know who is the richest between us, it would be you, for you are rich and I am poor.” I then told him that imƗm Abnj ণanƯfa, whose madhhab he follows, was a student of imƗm Ja‫ޏ‬far al-ৡƗdiq, our imƗm, we ShƯ‫ޏ‬a. Abnj ণanƯfa even said, “If it were not my two years of study with imƗm Ja‫ޏ‬far, I would be lost” [LawlƗ al-sanatƗn lahalaka al-Nu‫ޏ‬mƗn]. Dear brothers, I have tried to explain what taqiyya is and how it has been used in history until today, to show you that it is not exclusively ShƯ‫ޏ‬a, but that Sunnis also used it in the past and still use it today. And if people want to assign it to ShƯ‫ޏ‬a only, this is because the history of the ShƯ‫ޏ‬a is full of persecution. What happened to me is an example of that. Leaflets were distributed in the city of Mombasa calling people to cut off all contact with me: they should not greet me, talk to me, come to visit my family in the case of funerals or wedding celebrations, etc. Some days ago when I was speaking somewhere, a group of disrupters was sent to heckle the discussion. You see, even today in 1999, persecutions against ShƯ‫ޏ‬a continue! So if someone is afraid of being killed, he must practice taqiyya. But here, fortunately, we have not arrived at this kind of situation. We have

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some freedom. In countries where those who govern are not Sunni Muslims, we have a certain freedom of expression. In Sunni Muslim countries, we are forced to practice taqiyya. Moreover, people should know that they have no right to hurt me because I am first a Kenyan citizen, and the fact that I am ShƯ‫ޏ‬a does not undermine my status as a Kenyan citizen. [Ends]

Some Comments In the previous speech on the current state of the life of Kenyan Muslims in general and the inhabitants of the coast in particular, Shaykh Abdillahi relies on a reminder of history, and more precisely of three important moments in it: the advent of the region being under the authority of the Omanis, then under that of the British, and finally the struggle that led Kenya to independence. He did all this in order to say, at the end, that the deplorable current state of Kenyan Muslims in general and the inhabitants of the coast in particular is the result of these three successive historical moments. In this preaching, Shaykh Abdillahi uses this belief in the primacy of history as the best instrument to explain the current situation of nations and confessions to explain the legitimacy of the use of taqiyya by the ShƯ‫ޏ‬a. The fascinated belief in the thaumaturgist power of history to explain current realities is such in Shaykh Abdillahi that he seems to believe that history repeats itself, as he puts it in all languages in one breath (“Tarehe ya jirudiya yenyewe: al-TarƯkh yu‫ޏ‬Ưdu nafsahu: It repeats itself”)! Taqiyyais one of the practices of the Twelver ShƯ‫ޏ‬a (and other versions of Shi‫ޏ‬ism) for which Sunnis condemn them constantly.6 All the scriptural arguments, logical and historical, mobilized here by Shaykh Abdillahi are intended to remind the Sunnis that taqiyya has been practiced both by the companions of the Prophet (ৢahƗba) and by major Sunni ‫ޏ‬ulamƗ ର such as imƗm Abnj ণanƯfa, the founder of the legal school (madhhab) that bears his name. 6

Another practice that Sunnis frequently accuse ShƯ‫ޏ‬a of is mut‫ޏ‬a (temporary marriage). Shaykh Abdillahi, precisely for this case too, wrote a book and produced conferences recorded on audio cassettes to explain the legitimacy of this practice among both the ShƯ‫ޏ‬a and the Sunni.

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Shaykh Abdillahi repeatedly cites the Sunni imƗm al-GhazzƗlƯ, who according to him has authorized taqiyya in several places in his books, such as in the most famous of them, the I‫ۊ‬yƗ ࡖ ҵulnjmi al-dƯn (The Revival of the Religious Sciences). He has even written that a lie motivated by taqiyya is sometimes required. Shaykh Abdillahi gives an example where taqiyya would be mandatory. It would, for example, be mandatory in the case of a missionary ‫ޏ‬Ɨlim dƗ ‫ޏ‬Ư who, if he lost his life because he had told the truth, would be a great loss to Islam. Even the waswahili of Mombasa, according Shaykh Abdillahi, would not be against taqiyya. He cites as evidence the Swahili phrase “Mungwana lake nimoyoni” (The truth of a free person is in his heart). If this is so, why taqiyya is considered a ShƯ‫ޏ‬a practice only? According to Shaykh Abdillahi, the reason is to be found in the history of Islam. We see here again that Shaykh Abdillahi uses history to explain the destiny of nations and faith communities. The ShƯ‫ޏ‬a, according to Shaykh Abdillahi, are, of all national or religious groups, those who have been the most repressed, persecuted and mistreated in human history. Even the persecution of the Jews by the Nazis, according to Shaykh Abdillahi, was less painful than what the Umayyad regime and other Sunni regimes inflicted on the ShƯ‫ޏ‬a. Shaykh Abdillahi recalls, once again, the need for Muslims in general and Kenyans Muslims in particular to know their history: not to resurrect hatreds (chuki), because this does not solve problems but only increases them, but rather to know how things happened, what were the mistakes made by our predecessors, so as not to repeat them. Then Shaykh Abdillahi presents to his audience the important sequences of the history of Islam, of course from a ShƯ‫ޏ‬a perspective. This view shows the ShƯ‫ޏ‬a as the eternal victims of “crimes” inflicted on them by Sunnis since the death of the Prophet Muতammad until today. And the threats to his life, the ostracism to which he was subjected by the Sunnis of Kenya since he converted to Shi’ism, are there to prove this. Throughout his argument, he mentions evidences from the great historians of Islam, such as al-৫abarƯ, Ibn al-AthƯr, etc., to show how the Sunnis, from Mu‫ޏ‬Ɨwiyya’s time until today, have persecuted the ShƯ‫ޏ‬a. And Shaykh Abdillahi concludes saying that any sensible human being would understand someone who had to practice taqiyya to escape persecution. Between the end of March and the beginning of April 2005 – that is to say, a few days before I arrived in Mombasa – a rebellion was quickly nipped in the bud in the region of Kwale, near Mombasa. Young people of this town, inhabited by people of the Digo ethnic group (Wadigo) met in the forest to discuss the problem of their land that had been unfairly taken from them by successive governments of Kenya. It was rumored that the young people were planning to launch an armed rebellion to wrest control

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of Mwambao from the central government. These young people referred back to the status of the region before English colonization, when the coastal area was in the possession of the Sultan of Zanzibar. The young rebels stated that according Lancaster House agreements of 1963 that gave Kenya its independence, Mwambao would enjoy autonomous status. This statement and others of its kind were part of the argument of the rebel youth. The police intervened violently and stopped what it believed to be a rebellion in gestation. Many of the young people were wounded, some killed, and others imprisoned. Following this event, the name of Stambuli (the son of Shaykh Abdillahi Nassir) began to appear in the media. Indeed, Stambuli was interviewed on national television and radio, which wanted explanations of the historical references by which the young rebels supported their claims. Stambuli told me how the media came to him and what he told them. In fact, initially, the journalists of national television wanted to interview Shaykh Hyder Kindy, the uncle of Shaykh Abdillahi Nassir. But Shaykh Hyder told them to speak to Stambuli, who, according to him, knew the subject better. What Stambuli told them was not too different from what Shaykh Abdillahi Nassir had said earlier about the history of Mwambao in one of his preachings. The only difference was that Stambuli insisted on the land issue. For him, the claims of the people of Kwale were poorly formulated. They came from the frustration of their daily living. However, their main demand was more about the land than about the autonomy of Mwambao. After independence, the state had taken the land of the people in Kwale on the grounds that those who lived and worked there had no property titles. Then Kenyatta and his government sold this land to their relatives and supporters. The main problem, according Stambuli, was that since 1963 there have never been deputies in the coastal region who have really stood up for the rights of coastal people. Therefore, the Wadigo of Kwale should complain to their elected representatives, who had failed to claim the rights of their constituents. Then, Stambuli recalled the negative role (according to him) played by representatives of the Mijikenda during the Lancaster House negotiations in 1960, 1962 and 1963. These representatives were Ronald Ngala (Giriama) and Robert S. Matano (Mduruma). During the Lancaster House negotiations, the two representatives had repeatedly asserted that the Mijikenda were the real inhabitants of the coast and the only real “owners” of the land in this region. But historically, the Mijikenda had arrived on the coast in the 16th century. And when they arrived, they

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found Swahili people had already been there since long before them. Ronald Ngala and Robert S. Matano rose up against the autonomy of the Mwambao and declared, instead, their support for the integration of Mwambao into a future unified Kenya – unlike Abdillahi Nassir, who chose not to sign these agreements. So today, said Stambuli, it is very curious and lamentable that the Wadigo and all of the Mijikenda are calling for the autonomy of Mwambao. However, Stambuli continued to think that coastal people would never be satisfied with any constitution of Kenya which did not give them the autonomy to manage their affairs themselves, within the framework of a united Kenya, regardless of what name this autonomy system bore: decentralization, federalism, etc. While the people of Mwambao in general, and those of Mombasa in particular, attribute the origin of their problems to the agreements of Lancaster House in the early 1960s, they do not give up trying to solve them in the present. They try as much as they can to find solutions to their problems, through their organizations and associations.

MEWA (Muslim Education and Welfare Association) The best known of such organizations is the MEWA, founded in 1985 and officially registered on July 31, 1986. The head office of the association ia in MYTAC Hall, close to the MEWA Medical Center run by the association in the popular neighborhood of Majengo in Mombasa. The association, with 300 official members, has been legally registered as an NGO since 1995. The purpose of the association is “to promote, encourage and improve the level of education and well-being of Muslims.” However, non-Muslims also benefit from their services, including their medical center, which consists of a medical analysis laboratory, maternity and pediatric services and an operating room, general practitioners and rooms for patients. The center has also an office of da‫ޏ‬wa. In the 1990s the MEWA opened a rehabilitation center for young Muslims addicted to drugs. I visited this center, guided by two young people who were in its care. They explained that the first measure for a drug-addicted young person who comes for treatment at the center is a blood test to see whether or not they have already contracted the AIDS virus. Whatever the result, the young person will remain at the center for a period of six months, during which they will follow a detox training program. This consists of the treatment known in medical circles, combined with an “Islamic discipline.” This means that the addict is also subject to learning Islam, including the rigorous practice of the five collective daily prayers

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(ৢalƗt al-jamƗ‫ޏ‬a). The center has only 10 beds. It therefore cannot support more than 10 people, for a period of 6 months. After this period addicts leave the center, but it will continue to keep in touch with them and help them in their reintegration into society, particular by helping them to find jobs or training. According to center officials, rehabilitation is successful for about 30 to 40 percent of young people who have received treatment there.

Council of ImƗms and Preachers of Kenya (CIPK) The Researcher in Mombasa during the Period of the “War on Terror” Another institution that I visited in Mombasa was the CIPK. When I arrived at the headquarters of this institution, I found myself in front of a blind ‫ޏ‬Ɨlim named Shaykh Mohammad Khalifa, who welcomed me in a tone quite aggressive and brittle. When I told him about my research project, he became more reserved than before and with a firm tack and full of emotion, said bluntly: “No, we will not give you any information about our activities”! I remained speechless for a long time and then I spoke again to try to convince him, unsuccessfully. When I told him that I was from Comoros, he smiled, his face became less tense, but he remained in his position. He told me that he and his colleagues like Comoros. He added that the assistant of the imƗm of the Mbaruk’s Mosque (a mosque close to the CIPK office) was also of Comorian origin. I went to the Mbaruk’s Mosque to participate in the collective prayer, hoping to meet this person of Comorian origin. After the prayer, I approached the assistant of the imƗm in question and found out that he was a young man who was in elementary school with me in the Comoros. After almost 30 years I could not, of course, recognize him. However, I remembered him when he introduced himself by name: Mohammad Seif Nuhu. In fact, I remembered the nickname that we gave him as children, namely Kenyatta. This was because he was born in Kenya before coming to the Comoros as a child. Indeed, Muhammad Seif Nuhu was born in Kenya of a Kenyan mother and a Comorian father, who sent his son to Comoros in the 1970s to be educated there. Mohammad Seif Nuhu returned long after to Mombasa where he became assistant to the imƗm of the Mbaruk’s Mosque and at the same time conducted trading activities. He also tried to help Comorians in transit in Mombasa. Mohammad Seif tried to intervene so that the people of the CIPK would give me information on the activities of their institution, to no avail. I also spoke with the main imƗm of the Mbaruk’s

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Mosque, Shaykh Mohammad Dor, an Afro-Indian, but without success. A few days later I learned that Shaykh Mohammad Dor was the general secretary of the CIPK and Shaykh Mohammad Khalifa was the president of the IPK;,a party which was officially banned at that time. Despite the hostility the people of the CIPK had shown to me in the first meetings I had with them, I kept going to pray at the Mbaruk’s Mosque and to say hello to the people of the CIPK at their office. I decided not to let them impress me; otherwise they might think that their bad behavior toward me was justified. I felt that, over time, some confidence began to emerge between them and me. Unfortunately, Shaykh Mohammad Dor had to travel to India four days after my meeting him for the first time. As for Shaykh Mohammad Khalifa, even if he did not change his mind, with time he conceded to offer me, at least, one justification for his refusal to give me information on the CIPK. He explained to me that as imƗm and preacher at Sakina Mosque in Mombasa, he had several times been imprisoned and tortured because of his sermons in which he took a stand against the corruption of Kenyan governments and the campaign against Muslims in the name, he said, of the so-called war against Islamic terrorism. He had also been arrested and tortured several times during the period when the IPK was active, in the 1990s. All these, according to him, were injustices committed against him and fellow Muslims by the Kenyan police in collaboration with the intelligence services of the US and Israel. This was why he had become very suspicious, he said, of anyone who wanted to ask questions about Islam in Kenya. He told me then that the CIPK had been created in 1997 and essentially had three objectives: to defend Islam and the rights of Muslims; to promote better understanding between Muslims and followers of other religions; and to promote understanding between Muslims and state officials. The CIPK was in Mombasa because it was, according to Shaykh Mohammad Khalifa, the main city of Islam in Kenya. It was also in Mombasa that the office of the Chief Kadhi had been located, since the colonial period. The interconnection between different institutions of Kenyan Muslims and their organization into networks are two important factors to keep in mind when studying Islam in Kenya, and in East Africa in general. For example, the secretary general of the IPK, Abdurrahman Wandati, was at the same time the head of the Muslim Counsultative Council. He was also the number two in the Youth Muslim Association of Kenya. Shaykh Mohammad Khalifa was president (chairman) of the CIPK and, at the same time, since Balala had retired from politics because of his mental disorder, became the president of the IPK.

CONCLUSION

The Islamic revivalism which East Africa was witnessing during the period of my research can be mainly observed in the intense activity of conversion to Islam, particularly to the fundamentalist version of it. As everywhere in the world, this revival was based on two major motivations: a political or politico-religious motivation and another that was purely religious. The political or politico-religious motivation was expressed differently in East Africa than in countries with Muslim majority, where the phenomenon is known as “Islamic nationalism” or “Islamo-fascism.” In East Africa, political Islam did not demand the implementation of Shar૖‫ޏ‬a, or the installation of any Islamic democracy, or the establishment of a society dominated by Islamic values. Proponents of political Islam in East Africa wanted the integration of Muslims into the political and economical decision-making circles of their countrie, because they believed that only then would the rights of Muslim citizens be better defended and would they cease to be treated as second-class citizens. These proponents demanded that policy-makers in their countries treat Muslims in a fair manner, in the same way they treated Christian citizens. Only in this way, they said, could the injustice to which Muslims had been subject since the colonial period be repaired. This injustice, which was constantly revealed in my presence by Muslims, stemmed, according to them, from the fact that the colonial state, the Christian missions and also the independent state had prevented Muslims from accessing the education and training dispensed by modern educational institutions. Theoretically, the Christian missionaries who had the monopoly on the education system before independence accepted all children in their schools. But only parents who were Christians, or those who were not but did not mind that their children would become Christians, sent their children to mission schools. Muslims who feared, rightly or wrongly, that their children would become Christians refused to send them to Christian mission schools. There were certainly some Muslim parents who sent their children to mission schools and who were able to ensure that their children received modern education without converting to Christianity. But Muslim

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parents of this kind, with strong self-confidence, were in the minority. Therefore, since there were no modern schools for Muslims, they lagged behind their fellow Christians in matters of modern education. After independence and the establishment of the secular state school system, Muslims expected that the level of modern education of Muslim children would improve. Unfortunately, for various reasons, it did not happen as they expected. Although the assertion that Muslims had always been marginalized and disadvantaged by the colonial and independent state should not be taken for granted, it denotes not a request on their part to secede from the nationstate but a desire for more integration into it. They did not ask for less belonging to the nation-state, but more; they did not demand a breach or autonomy, but more integration. In such a configuration, the realpolitik would be that the state strives to integrate Muslims as much as possible. Let me be clear: I do not justify the fact that Kenyan and Tanzanian Muslims claimed their rights as citizens by focusing on their religious affiliation or on proselytizing in all directions. I wish this did not happen. But it was so, and that is the reality I am trying to understand and explain. The other motivation behind the Islamic revivalism in the region was purely religious. It came from activist SalafƯ-WahhƗbƯ ‫ޏ‬ulamƗ‫ގ‬, in most cases, who sought to convert ordinary Muslims and non-Muslims to their puritanical and fundamentalist version of Islam. In any case, even without the missionary activities conducted by international Islamic NGOs with their headquarters in the Gulf countries, organizations of Muslim communities in East Africa would have nonetheless initiated an intense process of conversion to Islam – for the propagation of Islam as such, which is, in Islam, the most noble action, but also to voice their sociopolitical demands. However, in reality, the two kinds of motives mingled and gave all fanatics, from within the region and outside it, the opportunity to push forward their absurd claims and obscure programs. Regarding the discourse of Muslim missionary activists in the region, it was of two types, local and regional. The local type consisted of the preaching in mosques during Friday prayers, and of religious lessons (darasa) and other religious events. This is the kind of discourse that I studied in places where I visited. It was not recorded on video or audio cassettes but transmitted orally in the mosque, and then, outside the

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mosque, by word of mouth. Although this discourse sometimes addressed political issues, in most cases it was simply intended to encourage local Muslims to comply with the teachings of Islam. Rather than criticize the Christians who formed the majority of the population of the localities in question, it avoided confrontation with the latter, insisting on the priority of different faiths “living together.” The discourse praised the benefits of Islam, in the hope of converting the Christians of the locality. If it did happen that this local Islamic discourse of Muslim missionaries criticized other missionary groups, the latter would be other Islamic groups considered not to be true Muslims (Sh૖‫ޏ‬a or Snjf૖, for example). One might ask how this kind of discourse could convert Christians to Islam. When I asked this same question of preachers and other Muslim activists in upcountry localities, they told me that it was in the workplace, in markets and in the streets that they converted Christians to Islam. This was done not by structured discourse but rather by informal discussion on various topics, until sympathy or a friendship emerged. It was only from there that the process of conversion could begin. This kind of conversion I call “conversion by social interaction.” As for the regional type of discourse of Muslim missionaries, it was national in that it dealt with national political issues. It was regional because it wanted to reach all people in the region, Muslims and nonMuslims alike. It was also international, since it dealt with subjects discussed in the international Islamist discourse both in its unique features and in its more commonplace observations. A specific focus on the nationstate and the region was to be found, for example, in the discourse of Abdillahi Nassir. All of these types of discourse contained subversive elements, to various degrees and on both the religious and the political level. Aside from the criticisms of the West, modernism, globalization and media, the discourse was (and still is) essential as socio-religious criticism of Muslims. This is the kind of admonition that any Muslim preacher can make in the region or elswhere. However, intentionally or not, the kind of discourse which designates an enemy for public prosecution (whether the “bad Muslim,” the fellow Christian or the West) can have terrible consequences. In his discourse, S. Barahiyan focused on a one topic, namely the urgent need to train Muslims in Tanzania and the region in both Islamic religious knowledge and modern scientific knowledge. The aim of this is so that

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Muslims can, for example, have their own physicians (and other technicians), “and they will not always depend on the Christians.” This aspect of S. Barahiyan’s discourse showed some similarities with the discourse of Abdillahi Nassir, which was entirely political. However, in general, S. Barahiyan, in his discourse but also in his practice of da‫ޏ‬wa, tended to “forget” the state and to want to erect, from the infrastructures of his association in Tanga, a local Islamized space which would have relations with the outside without passing through the Tanzaian state. In his discourse, Abdillahi Nassir presented a reminder of the history of the Kenyan coastal region of Mwambao and its people, from the period when the region was under the supervision of the Omanis of Zanzibar to the period when it fell under the authority of the English colonizers and then to independent Kenya. He recounted all this to show that the state of second-class citizens and subordinate people in which the inhabitants of the Kenyan coast were living was the result of this history that he related so brilliantly. Abdillahi Nassir was not only an eyewitness but also one of the actors who, in vain, had fought in the beginnings of the 1960s for the autonomy of Mwambao. Therefore, referring to the history when he addressed the Mwambao people of the 2000s meant that the struggle was not over and must, in one way or another, continue. By recalling this history, he wanted to invite Mwambao’s Muslims not to claim the autonomy of their region as an objective in itself, but to organize themselves to demand that the Kenya’s authorities to improve their socioeconomic situation. However, like any speaker, he could not control how his discourse was received. It fed, whether he liked it or not, the desire for autonomy or even secession that appeared occasionally. In any case, any autonomy of Mwambao based on the Islamic identity of this region would be problematic, because the area (and even the city of Mombasa) is also inhabited by a large number of Christians, including those from the up-country. Add to that the fact that a large Islamic community had been formed in the up-country and gained more importance everyday, with ‫ޏ‬ulamƗ‫ ގ‬better trained than those of the coast. These were ‫ޏ‬ulamƗ‫ ގ‬close to the Christian elites who ran the country. They were all from the same ethnic groups and sometimes had kinship relations with them. However, the inclination toward autonomy or independence among the people of Mwambao or the “Coastal Strip” where Swahili Muslims live, and among the people of the North Eastern Province (with its Kenyan population of Somali origin) will remain for long time in debate, as will the status of Zanzibar’s union with mainland Tanzania.

186

Conclusion

In Tanzania, it seemed that the criticisms that Muslims formulated against the rulers by whom they were subject to marginalization were tending to decrease in intensity. The political and economic liberalization initiated by former President Ali Hassan Mwinyi (a Muslim) and the formation of political parties which followed, including the CUF (Civic United Front) were, I think, the first reason. The fact that the elected president in December 2005 (Jakaya Kikwete) was a Muslim, also helped, in a sense, to rally Tanzanians Muslims to the nation-state much more than before. In general, it seems that in Kenya and in Tanzania, both on the part of the state and on that of Muslim communities, the idea of promoting greater integration of Muslims into the nation-state by fostering the modern education and training of young Muslims was gaining ground. Signs were appearing such as the creation of the Muslim University in Tanzania (Morogoro) in 2004 and the Pwani University on the coast of Kenya in 2007, and the project of a Muslim University on the Kenya coast was still in discussion among Muslims. If the relationship between Muslim communities and the state’s power in East Africa were moving toward improvement, that does not mean that the work of conversion to Islam led by local missionaries and supported by local and translocal NGOs will stop – quite the contrary. The revival of old diaspora networks linking East Africa to Arabia on the one hand, and to South Asian Muslims on the other hand, tends to strengthen Islamic missionary activity. Islamic missionary activities were also reinforced by the intense coming and going of Africans to Dubai and other cities of the Gulf countries to work or to do business. The geographical proximity to the holy cities of Islam (Mecca and Medina) as an additional factor in this process should also not be underestimated. In the same vein, we should not overlook the proximity of Sudan, which had become, especially since the early 1990s, an important country where people from East Africa (as well as from West Africa) went to study Islamic studies. However, the risk is of tensions and forthcoming confrontation not so much between Muslims and the state as between the religious groups instigated by fanatical preachers from the SalafƯ-WahhƗbƯ circle or from the Muslim Bible Scholars movement. That is also likely to be the configuration of religious conflicts throughout Sub-Saharan Africa in the future. In this regard, one could, for example, imagine the future emergence of a movement opposed to the Muslim Bible Scholars which might call itself “Christian Qur‫ގ‬Ɨn Scholars.” What would be, in this case,

Preaching Islamic Revival in East Africa

187

the reaction of Muslims in general and the Muslim Bible Scholars in particular? Having attended several conferences of the Muslim Bible Scholars in both Tanzania and Kenya, I was particularly struck by the following two phenomena: (1) the fact that the method used to preach was a “deconstruction,” or rather a negative reading of the Bible in favor of Islam, that they called “comparative religion”; and (2) the fact that when the preacher was reciting a Qur‫ގ‬anic verse in his sermon, he did it in Kiswahili, the vernacular language. Usually, in East Africa (and probably elsewhere in Sub-Saharan Africa), the preacher first quotes the Qur‫ގ‬anic verse in Arabic and then translates it into the vernacular language. But because in most cases, as new converts to Islam, the preachers of Muslim Bible Scholars could not read the Qur‫ގ‬Ɨn in Arabic, they were obliged to quote Qur‫ގ‬anic verses directly in Kiswahili. Moreover, it was for them a very normal method which they were familiar with when they were Christians and would have quoted verses from the Bible in Kiswahili and other local languages. Remember that most of these preachers had been Catholic priests and Protestant pastors. For other Muslims, this method was an innovation. They accepted, or rather tolerated, it out of sympathy for these new converts, who should later, in their eyes, learn Islam correctly by first learning how to read the Qur‫ގ‬Ɨn in Arabic. And indeed, when a preacher of Muslim Bible Scholars had learned to read the Qur‫ގ‬Ɨn in Arabic, he would, in his preachings, first recite Qur‫ގ‬anic verses in Arabic and then translate them into Kiswahili, just as did the “normal” ‫ޏ‬Ɨlim at the mosque. The more the majority of the preachers of the Muslim Bible Scholars advanced in their learning of Islam, the more they adopted the SalafƯ-WahhƗbƯ version of it. But we would hope that the Muslim Bible Scholars remain as they were in their beginnings. Thus they would contribute, in an original way, to Islamic reform in Africa. The process is not over yet, and perhaps the Muslim Bible Scholars will not all evolve to follow WahhƗbƯ-SalafƯ Islam, but we have to note that the majority have done so. This phenomenon of Muslim Bible Scholars and the evolution in their preaching activity and their learning of Islam brought me to think, once again, about the debate about “African conversion” between Horton and Fisher.1 One might concede to Horton the idea that a cosmological shift to a macrocosmic conception had already emerged in African societies when Islam and Christianity had begun to enter the continent. But we can not 1

See the introduction to this book.

188

Conclusion

follow him when he argues that these two world religions (Weltreligion) have not changed the cosmology of African religions (Volksreligion). Similarly we can not agree with Fisher when he argues that the cosmologies of these two world religions have completely replaced the cosmologies of African religions. The truth is in between, as it often is in such cases. Where Fisher is not wrong is when he wrote: What is in some ways the most striking thing about the comparison between Islam and Christianity in black Africa today, however, is their dissimilarity, and that particularly at the reform stage … The reform tradition in Islam has pretty consistently looked to external models … On the other hand, the thrust of the most vigorous rethinking of Christian doctrine, both within black Africa and outside, is in our time towards a greater identification of the faith, a deeper rooting of it. Within its African context: we no longer speak of Christian “adaptation to” black Africa, but rather of “incarnation within” black Africa.2

This does not mean that Africans experienced these Islamic reform ideas passively, because those who were spreading them in Africa were ‫ޏ‬ulamƗ‫ގ‬ and activists from Africa; also, Africans had their share in the conception of these ideas at the international level. Nevertheless, they did not try to adapt their reformist ideas to the reality of African cultures, or to inject aspects of the belief of traditional African religions into Islam. While we hear about “African churches” and “African Christian theologies,” we do not hear similar things from the African Muslim reformers. But it was not so long ago that Islam was seen as more suited to African cultures and beliefs than Christianity. Today, we are experiencing the opposite trend. The reader should understand that I do not want here to defend a kind of “authentic African Islam” against a kind of “authentic Arabic Islam.” I do not want to defend a locality, on one side, against the translocality, on the other side. If I am here to defend anything, it is rather something very obvious, mentioned here and there but not really accepted: unity in faith and diversity in practice.

2

Fisher, “The Juggernaut’s Apologia,” p. 168–169.

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