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Islam, Democracy, and Governance: Sudan and Morocco in a Comparative Perspective

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PAGE 1

ISLAM, DEMOCRACY, AND GOVERNANCE: SUDAN AND MOROCCO IN A COMPARATIVE PERSPECTIVE By WALEED MOUSA A DISSERTATION PRESENTED TO THE GRADUATE SCHOOL OF THE UNIVERSITY OF FLOR IDA IN PARTIAL FULFILLMENT OF THE REQUIREMENTS FOR THE DEGREE OF DOCTOR OF PHILOSOPHY UNIVERSITY OF FLORIDA 2005

PAGE 2

Copyright 2005 by Waleed Mousa

PAGE 3

There is not a single night in which I do put my head over the pillow without thinking of the poor in my nation and in the world in large. It is to th ose impoverished people, to my parents who helped me reach this level of conscientiousness, to my wife whose love helped me overcome the agony, and to my children whose heavenly spirit helped sustain my soul that I dedicate this dissertation. Waleed Madibbo

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iv TABLE OF CONTENTS page LIST OF FIGURES...........................................................................................................vi ABSTRACT......................................................................................................................v ii CHAPTER 1 AN OVERVIEW..........................................................................................................1 2 ISLAM AND DEMOCRACY....................................................................................12 Political Authority in Is lam Prior to Modernity.........................................................14 Modernization and Colonialism: The Creation of the Other..................................23 Islamic Revivalism: Adaptation or Retreat.................................................................34 Modernity and modernization: di fferent notions and definitions...............................39 3 ISLAM AND THE POLITICS OF STATE FORMATION: SUDAN AND MOROCCO IN HISTORICAL PERSPECTIVE.......................................................46 Centripetal and Centrifugal Tende ncies in Pre-colonial Days...................................47 Institutional Basis of Obedience.............................................................................48 Proximity of the Magreb to Islamic Religious Authority...........................................48 Tripartite of Power in Morocco..................................................................................54 Sudans Limited Experience with Central Authority.................................................57 4 SPECTRUM OF INTERPRETA TIONS AND SOCIO-POLITICAL PHILOSOPHY...........................................................................................................73 Traditional Leaders in Modern Clothes......................................................................90 Can Modern Rationality Shape New Religiosity?......................................................99 Conclusions...............................................................................................................113 5 GOVERNANCE CHALLENGES IN ISLAMIC COUNTRIES: THE CASE OF SUDAN.....................................................................................................................117 Sudans Travel Along the Fu ll Ideological Spectrum..............................................119 Secular Governance 1956-1972................................................................................120 Sultanistic Governance 1973-1985...........................................................................127

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v Religious Governance 1989-Present.........................................................................143 Conclusions...............................................................................................................155 6 GOVERNANCE CHAPTER IN ISLAMIC COUNTRIES: THE CASE OF MOROCCO..............................................................................................................159 Nationalist Governance (1961-1974).......................................................................161 Sultanistic Governance(1975-99).............................................................................167 Democratic Governance (1999-present)...................................................................180 Conclusions...............................................................................................................187 7 TOWARDS AN EMBEDDED DEMOCRACY MODEL.......................................189 What Difference Does Peripheral Loca tion in the Islamic World Make?................190 What Difference Does Political Stability Make to the Respect of Political Rights and Civil Liberties?...............................................................................................192 What Lessons, If Any, May Be Drawn from the Cases of Morocco and Sudan for the Rest of the Muslim world?..............................................................................194 What Might Be the Ways and Means of Achieving a More Embedded Form of Democracy in the Islamic World, Based on the Experiences of the Two Countries Studied Here?.......................................................................................196 APPENDIX A GLOSSARY.............................................................................................................198 B INDEPTH INTERVIEWS WITH ELI TES, SCHOLARS, AND ACTIVISTS: MOROCCO..............................................................................................................200 C INDEPTH INTERVIEWS WITH ELI TES, SCHOLARS, AND ACTIVISTS: SUDAN.....................................................................................................................202 D ABBREVIATIONS..................................................................................................204 BIBLIOGRAPHY............................................................................................................205 LIST OF REFERENCES: ARABIC................................................................................215 BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH...........................................................................................218

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vi LIST OF FIGURES Figure page 2-1 Basic Parameters Determining Islam's Relation to Democracy..............................41 5-1 Sudan Ideological Spectrum (L-R)........................................................................120 6-1 Moroccan Ideological Spectrum (L-R)..................................................................161

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vii Abstract of Dissertation Pres ented to the Graduate School of the University of Florida in Partial Fulfillment of the Requirements for the Degree of Doctor of Philosophy ISLAM, DEMOCRACY, AND GOVERNANCE: SUDAN AND MOROCCO IN A COMPARATIVE PERSPECTIVE By Waleed Mousa August 2005 Chair: Goran Hyden Major Department: Political Science Throughout its history, Islam has been mark ed by two trends. The first trend is a literalist tradition, which considers the Sharia laws as e xpounded in the medieval manuals as the eternally valid and immutable standard s of conduct. The second trend is a liberalist interpretation of Sharia which views that classical theory as only one stage in the evolution of the Sharia. This interpretation c ontinues to interpret the Qur’an in light of the mundane forces that activate society. My dissertation argues that the absen ce of a well-balanced socio-political philosophy exacerbates the tension between th ese two tendencies: between Islamization, which as a result of the colonial and post-co lonial legacies has become tantamount with the literalist traditi on, and Liberalization, which lies in consonance with intellectual school of thoughts that had evolved in the West This tension becomes internalized in a culturally homogeneous society such as the Moroccan society; it becomes externalized in a culturally heterogeneous society such as the Sudanese societ y. Increasing acts of

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viii violence display some of the tension that the Moroccan society is experiencing; jihad declared citizens of the south explains some of the Sudanese tension. An Islamic epistemological revolution, to borrow M ohamed Arkoun’s terminology, may be the way towards invigorating genuine interacti on between Islam with its emphasis on a communitarian bond, and the sociological and historical roots of modernity with its emphasis on individuality, hence creating a morally bounded public sphere, yet one that is liberating.

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1 CHAPTER 1 AN OVERVIEW Democratization, with its ensuing pressu res for parallel liberal economic and political reforms, poses a special challenge to Islamic countries. Relatively little work has been done on this subject (Tibi 2002; Ahmed 1992; Sivan 1990; Eick elman and Piscatori 1996; Lewis 1988; Nasr 2001). This dissertation is an attempt to fill the existing gap in our knowledge. It focuses on two African c ountries, Sudan and Morocco, which have been struggling for quite some time to reconcile an Islamic heritage with a more liberal political order. In addition, both countries ha ve been wrestling with how to incorporate geographically peripheral parts into the political mainstream : in Sudan, the South; in Morocco, Western Sahara. These tensions have intensified in recent years as the end of the Cold War has unleashed an ideological te nsion within th e Muslim world that exposed the weaknesses of existing political institutions. Politics in plural Islamic countries, such as Morocco and Sudan fails to produce stability and a plural reconciliation because the pragmatic middle ground on the ideological spectrum (IS), occupied by tr aditional parties with a Sufi background, is being conquered by stronger forces. These modern ist forces are mainly on the left and the right side of the ideological sp ectrum (Modernists forces are forces that use the state as their vehicle of reform, they can either be se culars from the left or Islamists from the right), and they use more effective political means to rule. The political authority in Morocco succeeded in the post-colonial era in overcoming extremist tendencies either to the left or to the right. This allowed the politic al authorities to follow a moderate path that

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2 facilitated building a political and economic infrastructure that linked the coastal and inner cities (and the king to the masses in a rather superficial manner). But Sudan’s sporadic movements from the left to th e right denied the st ate monopoly over (non) physical resources. This thwarted Sudan’s ab ility to overcome centrifugal tendencies and threatened its very existence as a central authority. The lack of cooperation between the two middle-of-the-spectrum parties has made traditional parties susceptible to seduction from either extreme. The left (seculars) ac cused the Umma and the Democratic Unionist Party (DUP) of succumbing to sectarian motives as they engaged in using religion as a mobilizational tool within the domain of the sect. But the right (Islamists) accused these traditional parties of giving in to secular de mands. As a result, the middle-of-the-ground parties had very brief moments (compare si x years of democracy to 36 from the time Sudan took its independence) that it could us e to bolster their capacity to politically incorporate the periphery. In my comparison I shall examine the tens ion between ideological polarization and incorporation and how it affect s political stability. The degree of ideological tension is higher in Morocco than in Sudan due to thei r different colonial experiences (Morocco was colonized by the French, Sudan by the Brit ish), proximity of Morocco from Europe and political dialectic that the Maghreb historically had with the Mashreq The ideological middle ground is dominated mos tly by Sufis in both countries, the Sufis nonetheless remain largely unincorporated in the political center. While the Moroccan center is dominated by the king, the Sudanese center is divided be tween two parties -DUP and Umma. These parties are largely dominated by two religious families, the Marghanis and the Mahdis, re spectively, by virtue of bei ng the supreme authority, in

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3 contrast, religious leaders in Sudan had at times during conflict recounted political authority that they devolved to elites to lead the traditional parties. Within these middleof-the-ground parties a con tinuous tension existed between traditional leaders who controlled the majority of religious followers and leaders who had secular modern appeal but lacked spiritual credentials Consequently, it was easier fo r other political actors to ignore the center in Sudan than in Morocco. Political instabi lity affected the ability of both countries to design a liberal political or der that recognizes the rights of each group to compete on equal terms, and grants minorities their political rights and civil liberties. Although Morocco did not experience as dramatic consequences as Sudan (2 million people died in the civil war in Sudan, so far), because Morocco had relatively an ethnically and religiously ho mogeneous body, the issue of Western Sahara has proved costly both in terms of physical and human costs. The argument pursued here is that in soci eties where the literal tradition continues to be very much alive, political stability is foremost influenced by the tensions caused by the political mobilization that this literal tradition permits, on the one hand, and the liberal and secular efforts to modernize and develop society, on the other. Within the Islamic literal tradition, howev er, there is also a marked polarity between centralization and dispersion of political authority, with “h igh” Islam pursuing the former and Sufists the latter. This latter division within Islam also has another dimension: “high” Islam being predominantly an urban, Sufism pr edominantly a rural phenomenon. The main argument here is that it is this “double di sadvantage” of relying on dispersed authority and being largely rural that contributes to displacing the pragmatic forces from the

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4 political center and leav ing room for more radical secular or Islamic forces to seize political power. The migration of elites to the left and the right of the ideological spectrum then has deprived the middle-of-the-spectrum of an important asset it could have used to intellectually (not only pragmatically) balance the rich --though dormant Islamic heritagewith the important tenets that mode rn political systems are based upon, namely, political rights and civil liberties. In order to fully understand the governance challenges in Islamic countries it is helpful to pursue the analysis along two ax es: one horizontal, the other vertical. The former refers to the ideo logical spectrum already mentioned, the latter to the way power is organized in a centrali zed or dispersed fash ion. Islamic countries tend to differ politically in terms of wher e they are located in the matrix below: Power Centralized | | Seculars | Islamists | Ideology Left_______________|________________ Right | | ? (NGOs) | Sufis | | Dispersed The ideological tension between the lite ralists and the liberalists has some resemblance to the continuum of Islamic socio-political philosophy that existed a thousand years ago and which extended from the taqlid to the ijtihad The literalist considers Islamic jurisprudence/Sharia laws expounded in the medieval manuals as the eternally valid and immutable standards of c onduct. The liberalists vi ew classical theory

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5 as only one stage in the evoluti on of the Sharia and they cont inue to interpret the Qur’an in light of the mundane forces that activate society. However, a little bit of investigation in Islamic history reveals a lack of historical continuity between the old itjihad-taqlid distinction and the more contemporary lib eral-literalist distinction. Thus, the ijtihad school of thought, with its plur alist and empowering ideals was repeatedly suppressed by political authorities. These authorities sought refuge in taqlid to monopolize understanding of Islam. The taqlid therefore controlled the masses religiously and thwarted their potential to challenge to the status quo. Islamic regimes drew on the taqlid tradition to legitimate their political author ity. For instance, while the Moroccan regime limited its understanding of Islam to media c overage of Friday prayers, the Sudanese regime tried to ideologically impose its unde rstanding of Islam over the society as a whole by indoctrinating students at all levels, infusing Islamic agenda in media programs, and so forth. Where there was no religious authority to monopolize the political center, such as Sudan, totalitarian regimes hailed Islam as a panacea for all problems to justify their move against seculars, namely, socialists or communists, who by the end of the Cold War lost their ideological appeal. During the Cold War the question was whether to include Islam in the equation of governance and unde r what forms (secular vs. theocratic). Toward the end of Islamic revivalism in S udan the question has become how to include Islam and with what implication for political rights and civil liberties. The stumbling attempts of Islamists since becoming dominant to solve any of the endemic economic and social problems have called into question their monopoly over the “t ruth.” This more recent development has created more fluidity on the ideological spectrum with actors

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6 modifying their previous positions. Thus, for instance, seculars who in the past didn’t attempt to legitimate their claims religiously, are now trying to decompose the “Islamic heritage” to grant it the intellectual dynamism it needs to fulfill the persistently changing demands of modern life. Rath er than breaking out of the tradition, liberals are now reflecting inwards to liberate themselves from a literate tradition th at had long justified discrimination against women and non-Muslim minorities. The dichotomous relationship between th e left and the right can be explained by the dysfunctional political syst ems that Sudan and Morocco i nherited from the colonials. Nonetheless, much remains to be explained by an old-fashioned educational system that fails to benefit from the epistemological revolutions that overwhelmed the social sciences. Although it is difficult to be cri tical of peoples’ heritage under times of repression and political backwa rdness, Muslim scholars of Western education, such as Mohamed Arkoun and Mohamed Abid al-jabri argue that without revisiting and critically reexamining the tradition it would be diffi cult if not impossible to reconceptualize Islamic theology. Insofar as it takes for grante d the authenticity of the original sources, the taqlid-ijtihad dichotomy remains rudimentary and in many ways insufficient. What was originally taqlid became synonymous with literalism ( it is not necessarily literal, but uses an old epistemology), ijtihad became for sometime synonymous with liberalism/secularism (it has recently started converging towards the tradition, i.e., it is using Islam to legitimate its claims). Though it is important to design means of political accommodation of religiously diverse groups, overcoming the theological divide through intellectual and conceptual means remains vital over the long run.

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7 Similarly, what allows Islamists an opport unity to label Sufism as heterodoxy and to some extent succeed in such propaganda is a colonial legacy that gave modernist groups institutional power --that of the modern ist state-to politica lly marginalize Sufi groups. In countries like Morocco where Sufi s enjoy a sizable presence, the king boosts his authority by portraying hims elf, again aided by extremel y influential modern media technology, as a mega Sufi, a religious schol ar, and a descendent of the prophet.By playing both seculars and “hi gh” Islamic forces against the Sufis, he has been able to neutralize their influence and occupy the political center-stage himself. While the Suftsts had played a major part in the foundation of the Istqlal party in the 1960s, they have now been marginalized and unable to play their role in the political middle. The political stage has for a long time been orchestrated by the king who in addition to having benefited from regional a nd international circum stances in bolstering his political authority, capita lized on an antique heritage or centralized religious authority. However, increased challenges from the right have exposed the efforts that the Moroccan regime have made to reconcile the Islamic heritage and liberal political values. The dismay of the public with secularism and their discontent with Islamic ideology that brought disasters to neighboring countries, such as Algeria, explain the p ublic’s weak participation in national (party ) politics. A case in point is the 2003 election in which less than 40 percent of the population participat ed in voting. They are equally dissatisfied with the the king and his attempts to reconc ile the ideological tension between the left and the right. Hasssan II responded to political challenges by shifting ideological labels and not necessarily changing or adjusting governance strategies. He used his intellectual mastery of Western philosophy when accused by seculars of backwardness (Cold War

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8 era), and he resorts to hi s religious appeal when confronting Islamists (Islamic revivalism). To the extent that this duality helped the king stabilize the Moroccan regime, it endowed Hassan II with maneuverability he could use to thwart political opposition without changing actual political stands The king managed to make himself indispensable by activating political rivalries be tween actors at either end of the extreme, that is, seculars and Islamists. For exampl e, during the Cold War radical forces were crushed for the cause of protecting Islamic identity from the evil of socialism. The change in the regional and international circumstances encouraged opposition leaders to demand political freedom that was overshadowed by the king’s demand for national unity in the face of secessionist forces in th e Western Sahara. The king rejuvenated the baia,’ under the strictness of modern protocols and th e notoriousness of modern media, to claim religious right over a political ly disputed land, the Western Sahara. He considered the right of a Muslim king to extend his authority over an “annexed Muslim land.” What was surprisingly an oath of obedience that Muslim ulama had traditionally given to the king was extended to include modern politicians --even seculars and communists-who after 40 years of defiance accepted the idea of a constitutional monarch to absorb the tidal wave of Islamic revivalism. They inflated th e image of the king as a religious figure to thwart the ability of Islamists to use Islam for mobilizational purposes While the issue of the Western Sahara was for a long time used to divert attention from violation of civil rights in the rest of Moro cco, absence of freedom made it difficult for Moroccan politicians to address the atrocities committed against the Saharawis, inhabitants of the Western Sahara. The governance tale of Morocco clearly demonstrates that in a context

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9 where power is effectively centralized --a nd occupied by an aut horitative figure like Makzan -Sufism can occupy the political middle ground but with the important qualification that the masses are not part of it. The governance story of Sudan is different. It inherited a less strenuous relationship between the left and the right as a result of the British colonial policy that did not have a position against religion. Nor did the salafi doctrine play an importa nt part in political life in Sudan until recently. Despite its relative geographic proximity, Sudan remained quite peripheral in the cont ext of the big religi ous debates of the Mashreq (the core Arab countries in what is now called the Middle Ea st). The main difference, however, is that political authority was never effectively centraliz ed or held by an authoritative figure like the King of Morocco. It became much more easily liable to ideological agitation from either the left or the right, thus frustr ating the democratic process and inviting an intrusive army into the political arena. This was exacerbated by the fact that the traditional parties appealed to a Sufi majority that resided in the rural areas, leaving the cities --and the political center-to modernist forces. The latter --whether Islamists or communists-tended to rely on authoritarian means to ach ieve their ends, while the traditional parties tried to promote a parliamentary form of democracy. The more the pendulum moved to the left, as, for instance during the rise of the s ecular forces to power in 1969, the more it alienate d the Muslim majority by advocating extreme secular measures and refusing to allow Sharia a role in the design of public policy proceedings. The more the pendulum moved to the extreme right, as during the rise of Hassan Turabi to power in the late 1980s, the more it al ienated the non-Muslim minority in southern Sudan. In short, while Morocco has remained relatively stable and occupied one and the

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10 same position in our matrix above, Sudan has continued to be unstable and shift position in the matrix more than once. In conclusion, this dissertation argues that the locus of power is “off-centered” in both Sudan and Morocco, but they are so in different ways. Morocco is off center because of the dominant position occupied by th e King and his ability to play different forces against each other and thus block progress towards a harmonization of the literal and liberal traditions and the achievement of a sustainable political stability. Sudan, on the other hand, is off center in the sense that the political vacuum at the center invites radical swings from right to left or vice ve rsa, leaving the country without the necessary political stability to promote national development. Three main blocks contribute to the build ing of this argument. The first section, which contains Chapter 1, expl ains the difficulty that Mu slim countries in general encountered in coordinating cult ural and political activities at the time of independence, the Cold War, and Islamic revivalism. The s econd section consists of Chapters 3 and 4. Chapter 3 examines the historical circumst ances that allowed the state to impose its authority over the society, but with more degrees of succe ss in Morocco than in Sudan. Chapter 4 traces the evolution of Islamic theo logy to identify the major benchmarks that have historically influenced the developmen t of the ideological spectrum, as we know it today. Section three, which contains Chap ters 5 and 6 traces the movements on the ideological pendulum to explain how they have affected effo rts at establishing democratic governance. Chapter 7 discusse s the ontological question: based on the experience of Morocco and Sudan, what lessons can be learnt for the Muslim world? In

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11 this last chapter I make recommendations for what I think may contribute to the stabilization of regimes in Muslim countries.

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12 CHAPTER 2 ISLAM AND DEMOCRACY The relationship between Islam and demo cracy is both historically and in a contemporary perspective a tortured relations hip. Mainstream notions of democracy are the product of a historical tr ajectory dominated by Wester n Civilization. Muslims have been approaching such principal features of contemporary democracy as individual freedom, human rights, and competitive elections from the outside to the inside. They are being asked to adjust to this type of po litical system without necessarily having the economic or cultural conditions that have given rise to it in the first place. But looking at these issues in a historical perspective, individual freedom was more advanced in the Golden Era of Islam in the 10th to 12th Centuries than it was during that time within other religious traditions. Thus, it is to easy to argue that within Islam the development trajectory has been from indi vidualism to communitarianism, and in Christianity and Judaism, it has been just the opposite. The evolution of communita rianism in the Islamic world has both internal and external causes. The different religious inte rpretations and the relatively decentralized system of authority, which characterized Islam in the past and still exists, were not easily compatible with the ambitions of individual rulers wishing to create states of their own. Retaining some degree of control and coherenc e required the establishment of systems in which obedience in a religious sense and subm ission in political terms were necessary. The literal tradition lent itself to this kind of evolution with the ulama serving the needs of the rulers. The relative flexibility and fr eedom that individuals had enjoyed in the

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13 Golden Era were gradually constrained. The ummah, which had at one time been interpreted in a “bottom-up” fashion, was gra dually defined in dis tinct top-down fashion by the elite. Although the religi ous diversity within the broader Islam continued, each sect tended to “freeze” a certain interpreta tion of the Qur’an a nd the Sunnah, thereby giving such interpretation not only a sacr osanct status but al so providing a rigid behavioral code for each follower. This tensi on within what might be called a “high” and a “low” Islam --between rulers and followers -produced its own tensions between those inclined to follow a mysticist interpretation ( sufism ) and those ready to follow a more literal interpretation of the prin cipal sources of inspiration ( salafis ). In both cases, however, individuals were expected to confor m or comply with norms and beliefs set for them by authoritative sources within the re ligious system. Influenced by external and internal pressures, both groups had over the years moved onto the lite ralist side of the spectrum, with the only differen ce that the traditi onalists/Sufis adopts a society-oriented strategy of reform, the Islamic modernists a state-oriented. Th ere are virtually no convincing cases until very recently, for example, the opposition in Lebanon where societal action inspired by the liberal tradition has taken place. The point is that a secular civil society has yet to deve lop in Islamic countries. In trying to relate Islam to democracy in more constructive fashion, ther efore, the virtual ab sence of a liberally inspired civil society is thec “Achilles Heal.” Islam has always been interacting with othe r religions and civilizations. It would be wrong to suggest, therefore, that external infl uences are only recent. Islam was influenced by military combat with the Persians, Romans, and Europeans in Spain that nevertheless bred intellectual corre spondence. However, the colonial invasion of the Muslim lands in

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14 the 19th century registered a psychological def eat that made Islam more defensive and inclined to react to outside influences rather than shaping the trends of development. Its communitarian value system was held up as a preferable alternative to the increasingly liberal tradition within Christianity, especially after the principle of separation of church and state had been adopted. Within this in creasingly secular trad ition, individualism took hold. Community was seen as standing in the way of emancipating th e individual. What I refer to as the “liberal tradition” in this dissertation eventually came to pose the opposite to the literal tradition that conti nued to be dominant within Islam. These dichotomies between high and low Islam --or state and society-dominated rule-and a literal and a liberal tradition have been the dominant factors shaping the evolution of Islam and its relations with notions of democracy. These distinctions constitute the basic organizing principles of understanding th is relation, and the organization and discussion in this chapter re flect this. More speci fically, it begins by tracing the evolution of Islamic thought and its political implications in the years prior to Western colonization in the 19th century. The second part d eals with the effects of Western colonialism on Islam, especially it s attempt to modernize Islam by weakening the grip by community of its individual me mbers. The final section of this chapter identifies cases that illustrate a matrix built around the two dichotomies listed above. Political Authority in Islam Prior to Modernity The central issue in Islam’s political history has been authority: who “rightfully” holds the authority of interpre ting the text and by what criter ia is authority established (that is, differently among va rious groups)? Indeed, the orig inal differences in Islamic history do lay the groundwork for what we see in contemporary Sudan and Morocco, for example, whether their author ity devices from Sharia sc holarship, prophetic descent,

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15 mystical experiences, or a combination of all. While Sufis encourage a flexible interpretation of the Qur’an based on the allegorical interpretation ( tawil ) of the saint ( walee ), Salafis, true heirs to the earl y theocratic state, emphasize plain investigation/literal meaning ( tafsir ) of the scholar ( alym ).1 Hodgson in his classic, The Venture of Islam asks the compelling question: “How can the inward-minded Sufis and the Shariah-minded Hadith folk be made to co mplement each other in an Islamic spiritual life” (Hodgson 1977: 402)?2 Should Muslims decide to give up their adornment with society as an indivisible po lity, can the modern state --with its emphasis on functional differentiation-provide each entity its dom ain while granting a schema of operation? Does democracy, with its indelible demand of popular sovereignty, extend Muslims an opportunity to pay tribute to their heritage or does it forfeit them such right in the name of “liberalism” and/or “secularism”?3 1 In Chapter Three, I explain that Islamists have trie d to obtain both the authority of the scholar and the sanctity of the saint, thus defying their modernist appeal and making it difficult for the observer to distinguish them for any traditional groups. 2 “The spiritual temptation of the Sufis was complementary to that of those of the Hadith folk who resisted going along the Sufi path. For the Hadith folk, the danger came from the attempt to capture the unformulable in a formula, to hold on to God Himself within the words of the Qur’an. In such an attempt, they risked forgoing the spontan eous responsiveness wh ich never ceases seekin g beyond what it has already found, in favor of a disciplined responsibility to truth already known: responsibility such as had caused people to receive and live by the Qur’anic challenge when it was first delivered. Such responsibility was always necessary to preserve the continuity of commitment in the tradition of any group. But, held to too narrow an exclusivity, such responsibility could impose a conformity which would preclude any new understanding, smother the creative dialogue which was equally necessary for any cultural tradition, and devitalize the very tradition it was meant to serve” (Hodgson 1977: 402). 3 Said Qutb --the intellectual factor of modern activism-contends that the economic institutions of the West are fully governed by material rationality, a belief that defies the ontology of any religion. Secularism rules political institutes as a sovereign mistress, thus denying social norms and values a role in designing public policy procedures. The Enlightenment's vilifi cation of religion has, at minimum, caused moral relativism, and, at maximum, culminated in the moral impoverishment of Western societies. Albeit, he did not live long enough to see Islamism with its admiration with the processes associated with modernization, for example, rationalization as well as technical capacity of the modern state, sold its version of modernity --a set of socially encoded values emphasizing sympat hy for traditional values over economic efficiency, power, and profit-that bankrupted Muslim societies, both morally and intellectually (Euben 2000: 30).

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16 The Qur’an and the Sunna are the material sources of divine revelation in Islam. The Qur’an was revealed in 23 years and wa s completed shortly before the death of Prophet Mohammed. The Sunna represents the recorded words and deeds of the Prophet; it was recorded almost a century after the death of the Prophet. In his lifetime, the Prophet discouraged his companions from r ecording the Sunna. He wanted the broad precepts and ethical norms of the Qur’an to provide guidance for the newly forming community. Nonetheless, scholars, who followe d the literate tradition, found in the Sunna (conceptual) tools they could use to confine the Qur’an to the spatial and the temporal particularities of the time (see Chapter 4), wh ile still claiming that “Islam is timeless and unchanging.” Modern scholars like Abd al-M ajeed Al-Sharafi (2001), Tariq Ramdan, (2004); Mohamed Arkoun (1999), and Nasr Hami d Abu-Zaid (1996) contend, in addition to agency-related issues, there are structural factors. These factors the extended period between the time of the Prophet and the re cording of the Sunna. This may have influenced the imagination of individuals w ho reported the sayings of the Prophet not to forget the pressure that religious scholars experienced to stabilize a society undergoing rapid transformation. Historically decons tructing that time period to expose the relationship between truth and --power and thus to make a distinction between what the Prophet intended and what the scholars decreed-resembles one of the thorniest issues for Muslims today. First, given their lack of intellectual training in social sciences, today’s ulama are ill equipped to unde rtake such a task (see Ch apter 4). Second, activists who are often referred to as “Isl amists” want to preserve the picture of a pure and pristine Islam in the face of continued encroachment of the West over Muslim territories. This is a defensive strategy as well as a strategic one.

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17 While Ali b. abi-Talib (the fourth Cali phate after the Prophet Mohamed, his cousin, and son-in-law) demanded piety as a way of subverting parochialism that was deeply engrained in the Arabic culture, his cousin Moawya b. abi-Sufyan, also a political competitor, thought the latter f eature could be used to stabilize the political system and thereby spread Islam. But what kind of an Is lam is this? How different is it from the religion of Quaraish (the pr estigious Arab tribe that ha d the honor of protecting Mecca and serving the pilgrims at the times of the Pr ophet) --one that justified submissiveness in the midst of injustice? The dispute was cons idered political, at most quasi-religious, because no one then had a monopoly over “truth.” Imam Ali was asked, in lieu of a military confrontation that consumed the lives of approximately 70,000 of the companions of the Prophet, what he thought of his cousin. Unlik e the attitude of “modern” Muslim leaders who accuse their pol itical opponents of apostasy, he confirmed they were Muslims who transgressed agains t their brothers. However pious the public perceived them, none of the fi rst four caliphates dared to exploit religion for political reasons or use politics to dictate a reli gious doctrine (Mernissi 1992). The “secular” exercise of politics4 made Islam adaptive to different socio-cultural contexts, and gained the system political efficacy at a time when Islam spread to geographical territories beyond the caliphate’s capa bility to administer.5 Future kings, only three decades after the death of the Prophet Mohamed, viewed such characteristics as making religion 4 That is to say, politics was practiced within the zo ne of (partial) overlap be tween the temporal and the spiritual domains. And none of the caliphates in the first three decades of Islam attempted to use religion to dominate any of the two domains or completely separate them. 5 “It is human intelligence that formulates the universal and elaborate methodologies, which vary according to the object of study to which they are applied (e.g., religious practice, social affa irs, sciences), by working on the Quran and the Sunna. In othe r words, the Sharia, insofar as it is the expression of ‘the way of faithfulness,’ deduced and constructed a posteriori, is the work of human intellect” (Ramadan 2004: 34).

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18 elusively malleable and its ‘kingdom” politic ally vulnerable. However, it would take centuries of collaboration between Islamic rulers ( Amirs ) and religious scholars ( ulama ) to completely silence the moral consciousness of the individual Muslim as the only guard against theocracy. During the first three centuries of Islam, four different Sunni schools of law were established and received rec ognition as "equally authoritative expressions of Sharia law." These are the Malikis, the Hanbilis, the Hana fis, and the Shafis. According to Coulson, "The genesis of Islamic religious law lay in a complex process of historical growth intimately connected with curr ent social conditions." For in stance, while a woman could contract a marriage only through her guardian in the traditionally tribal and patriarchal society of Medina, she had full freedom in c ontracting her marriage in Kufa, which was a cosmopolitan town in a predominantly Persia n milieu (Coulson 1965: 76). By providing a socio-historical understanding of sharia, scho lars helped the indi vidual Muslim remain loyal to his moral consciousne ss --thereby contributing to the social balance and ensuring a peaceful coexistence between the inner a nd the outer self (they nonetheless risked losing their job in a modern setup). This he lps us understand --contra ry to the conviction of modern theists and activists-that it is God’s law; the sharia is a natural law. Ramadan asserts, “The corpus of the Sharia is a human construction, and some aspects of it may evolve just as human thought evolves and ju st as some aspects of the Quran and the Sunna were revealed over time” (Ramadan 2004 :37). Second, “The entire Islamic fiqh has developed through a process in which th e community and its representatives have participated in open process” (Khurshid 2000:15 ). Sharia grew out of the need to put limitation on the sovereign, that is, the i ndividual was perceived as the source of

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19 authority, at least in theory. His intention was considered more valuable than their deed, and their perception of the “truth” depended on their inte llectual capacity, not their material or cultural endowment. However, it is worth noting --although there were political attempts by the Umayyad to interfer e with the proceedings of the Sharia-that they were mostly unsuccessful. The dignity of the individual Muslim, something that the first four caliphates cherished, endured through the first five to six centuries of Islam. Although Islamic rulers had always succeeded in co-opting ( ulama ), it was not until the advent of the modern state that they co mpletely succeeded in subordinating religious scholars. By virtue of being informal, educati on in the past was largely an activity of the society, not the state. Muslim encounters with the high civilization of the Sasanids and the Byzantines, which were then the borders of Near Eastern Civilization, and later the intell ectual barter with the peoples of Greece and Spain, made an impact on the inte llectual history of Islam. As each of the Sunni schools of law wa s influenced by the social and political circumstances in which each school evolved, th e fear of permutation has caused some Sunni jurists to increasingly discourage Sunni jurists from engaging in the activity of ijtihad (independent interpretation) outside the sc ope of any of the existing schools of jurisprudence. The acceptance of belief on th e authority of others, a doctrine known as taqlid was refused by the proponents of the "rati onalist" school who vi ewed the classical theory as only one stage in the evolut ion of the Sharia (Coulson 1965: 91). They perceived benefit from reflecting upon the know ledge of past genera tions but refused to be limited by it. The advocates of this trad ition, of whom the mu'tazilite was the most prominent group, perceived rationality, not tr adition, as the only guard against the

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20 recession of Islamic jurisprudence. Toward the end of the 10th century, two schools of thought became prevalent: the traditionalist school, which adopted the doctrine of taqlid and the rationalist school, which maintained the scholarly tradition of ijtihad The orientation of the Silk Road that extended from China to ancient Rome energized the pre-capitalized economy, which gave rise to a group of merchants who favored the rationalist school. Rationality was the Abbasid tool to subvert the Umayyad dynasty, which for a long time promoted fatali sm. It was Allah’s will to have them as rulers of the Muslim ummah Ironically, the Mu’tazilite we re persecuted by the same dynasty that they helped bring to power. They nevertheless influenced and helped create an intellectual dynamics unprecedented in the history of Islam, often referred to the Golden Age of Islam (10th to 11th centuries). In the absence of a well-defined procedure that could mediate extremes, such rich intelle ctual dynamics were made vulnerable to the whims of a ruler who thwarted diversity in fa vor of unity. At the cost of having a stable political system, the Islamic authority --the n the Abbasid dynasty-had done away with individual freedom and instead appropriated the Persian heritage of “obedience” to establish the first theocratic state in Islam in the 10th century.6 “This did not, of course, mean the rule of the clergy, which in the sacer dotal sense, did not exist. . .but there is another interpretation of the word “theocracy ,” based on its original and literal meaning, that is, ‘the rule of God’” (Lewis 1988: 30). In his classic, The Arab Moral Mind Al-jabri asserts that the choice of “obedience” was strategically a political move, as well as a historic coincidence. To stabilize his regime, the Abbasid Amir needed a specific ty pe of obedience, not the obedience of the 6 Inherent in this system was an authoritative logic that put indigenous populations, be it Persians, later Africans, and so forth, at the service of the “Arab Caesar.”

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21 nomad to his chieftain, or that of the discip le to the pastor, but both. He wanted political obedience that was relig iously stipulated. Such tradition was for centuries woven in the Persian culture, which saw the Caesar as both a religious figure and a political leader (Aljabri 2001). To prevail through massive internal and external pressures, the political institution advocated an already exis ting religious doctrine, that of the Salafis (referring to the salaf : the companions of the Prophet). The th eocratic logic, first introduced by the Umayyad and later institutionalized by the A bbasids, made it difficult for political dissidents to oppose the Amir (ruler) without facing th e accusation of apostasy.7 Any uprising against the status quo, Al-Jabri assert s, needed to be subs tantiated religiously (and probably ethnically); it had to be a revolt from within the circle of religion. What was supposed to save Muslims --the plight of trial and error w ith their newly born political system opened-the door for infi nite turmoil. Repeated failures of the indigenous populations to destabilize the Ar ab-dominated regimes, be it Abbasid or Umayyad, enticed the new converts, mainly Pe rsians, who became strangers in their own land, to seek a different strategy. They sh ifted from active resistance to passive resistance. By resorting to asceticism --again a quality inherent in the Persian heritage-mystics evacuated the public sphere, thus diffusing the authority of the Amir without giving him an excuse to use force. This crea ted a precarious situati on as it deprived the political authority of human and material res ources it needed to carry further expeditions, that is, direct resources for outside invasion ra ther than wait for it to be directed against them. In the modern context, this will mean an indirect involvement in politics, which 7 Religious theology developed under political constraints. What was propagated as religious decree was mostly an offshoot of some political quarrel (Abu-Zaid 1996).

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22 departs western understanding of party system s, given its separation between ends and means of achieving po litical objectives.8 Muslims of Persian origin masterfully us ed the weapon of “obedience” against the Arab Caesar. They transformed obedience from that of the ruled to the ruler, Al-jabri asserts, to it being obedi ence of the disciple ( mureed ) to the master ( sheik ). Pioneers of Islamic mysticism, such as Ibrahim b. Adham, Abd al-Allah b. al-mubarak, Shageeb alBalki, and many others, were wealthy peopl e; some of them came from privileged families. They were non-Arabs who used group asceticism as a weapon against the “invader” who deprived them of social and political status. Mys tics discouraged their followers from pursuing political power and ma terial wealth, and instead enticed them to concentrate on purifying the self and displayi ng moral discipline. The less tolerant the central authority became with deviations of the public from its outlined doctrine, the more tolerance the Sufi sheiks displayed to their disciples or mureeds As a result, Sufism spread to the “periphery” in a very lim ited time, and its followers grew beyond the wildest imagination of the then Islamic Leviat han. Not surprisingly, countries that are in the periphery of today’s Islamic world, such as Morocco and Sudan, are predominately Sufis. It is through modern education that these nations’ elites got exposed to doctrinal Islam as found in Egypt or Saudi Arabia (see Chapter 4). This political tension between centripetal and centrifugal forces persisted over the years and gave rise to theological tendencie s that prevail strongly today. To the extent 8 In Sudan, Cudsi asserts, “The vacuum created by the reluctance of tariqa l eaders to assume a direct political role was inevitably filled by secular liberal nationalists, who used the sectarian movements primarily to win away popular support from their riva ls. On the contrary, this indirect political influence enabled Sufi orders to accommodate themselves more smoothly to, and play a more effective role in, subsequent non-democratic systems” (Cudsi 1983: 37).

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23 that the petal/fugal tendency endowed Islami c theology with a kind of fluidity that hindered the formation of an ecclesiastical inst itutional, it thwarted the construction of a common public sphere. People es cape the rigidity of the center to immerse themselves in the (spiritual and temporal) flexibility of the periphery. For example, elites or masses that feel stifled with dogmatic policies of modern Islamic nations choose to escape the doctrinal/distinctive Islam of formal Islamic schools ( madrassa) These schools are supervised by the state scholars to join the doctrinaire/diffusive Islam of the maseed, one that is entertained by saints ( auleya ). By fleeing to the peripher y, it is prudent to ask, has the individual Muslim better enjoyed his indi viduality or has he substituted one master with another, to borrow Al-Jabri phrase? Have the disciples ( mureed ) voluntarily joined a type of incarceration different from that of the pupil ( talib )? How does the spiritual training of the former differ from th e pedagogical training of the latter? What role can modern politics play in governing --not exploiting-the relationship between the two? Will colonials and post-col onial state builders try to ameliorate or exploit the already existing cleavag es and with what objectives? Modernization and Colonialism: The Creation of “the Other” The encounter of the Muslims with the cap italist West is qualitatively a different situation from their encounter with the pre-capitalist West. Colonialism was the Muslims' first full encounter with the West in econom ic, social, and political terms. This was a hegemonic encounter that not only influenced the form of life, but also changed its substance (Taylor 1992: 66). Driven by materi alism and armed with advanced military technology, colonialism set itself the task of filling metropolita n treasures with the wealth of colonized nations. An alien autocratic bureaucracy, erected for the fulfillment of this objective, continued to exercise tutelage and subjugate societies to its own whims in the

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24 period of decolonization (Young 1994). As th e cage was opened, colonized peoples found themselves in dire poverty and had to borrow money to cover the huge gaps in health and educational services. They fell pr ey to international financial institutions. These institutions preached impartiality but pr eserved the right of indoctrination. It used liberalism as a strong ideologica l arsenal against ancient civili zations --Islamic, Christian, and Chinese-that were already beginning to lose their grips on the minds of people due to the forces of secularism: scientific rationality, economic interdependence, and communication technology (Anderson 1973: 65). This caused a transformation unprecedented in the history of mankind. Not only has man set a mission to conquer nature, but also to shake the convictions that had held human ity for thousands of years. Though secularism, as explained by Badie and Binbaum (1983), was peculiar to the European history, it was propagated in the Muslim world as the natural evolution of political development. Nonetheless, this is no t a type of secularism that granted religion autonomy from state or the st ate autonomy from religion; it is a hybrid strategy that targeted sufi Islam --that of the peripher y. The colonial authority introduced legal changes that aimed at thwarting the potential of popular Islam and gradually diffusing its authority, as it vigorously fueled the resistan ce to the presence of imperialism in Muslim lands.9 Both factors had a matrix dividing eff ect on Muslim societies. The position of political authority vis--vis the sharia intr oduced for the first time in Muslim history a secular/theocratic dichotomy: Secular regi mes substitute the Sharia with legal codes imported from France, Britain, or Switzerland. Not only did the state in Turkey (1920s) 9 In contrast to radical forces, that is, fundamentalis ts, who in the modern would confront the enemy while being oblivious to the human cost, Sufis adopt passive resistance as a strategy th at they mastered through the ages and which granted them success in front of an enemy that is disproportionately more powerful.

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25 abandon the process of political socializa tion by borrowing a constitutional order from the West, but it also disregarded the needs a nd aspirations of soci ety as the exclusive determinants of law in the secular sense.10 Quasi-secular regimes are secular at the core and use Islam for legitimation purposes. For exam ple, Saudi Arabia limits the role of the Sharia to family matters and by no means does it allow Islamic values to influence the policy of the state. Theocracy, for example, Afghanistan at the time of the Taliban, considers the Sharia laws as expounded in th e medieval manuals as the eternally valid and immutable standards of conduct. Not only is religion the decisive source of moral authority, but it is also is the sole determinan t of politics. Quasi-theocratic regimes, such as the Sudanese regime (1989-present), are th eocratic at th e core but use pluralism for legitimation purposes. They use Islam as an idiom to mobilize resources, nonetheless these regimes face challenges from fragmented Islamic parties as to what Islam really means (Eickelman and Piscatori 1992). In addition to the already existing cultura l difference between high and low Islam, educational policies had the eff ect of separating the economic in terest of elites from that of the masses, that is, create a socio-ec onomic barrier between the rural and urban populations. Whereas socialis t/communist groups chose economic development as a means to overcoming the distance, Islamists --be they conservative or radicals (the difference between authoritative versus totalitarian approach to governance remains to be explored in Chapter 4)-preferred mani pulation of cultural symbols. Regional and international pressures --that coincided with sketchy temporal zones such as colonialism/independence, Cold War (zenith/ebb), Islamism/War on Terror-influenced 10 This can be oppressive to the population because th e law is neither imposed up on society from above nor is it growing out of it. “Nonrecognition can be a form of oppression, imprisoning someone in a false, distorted, and reduced mode of being” (Taylor 1992:25).

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26 the move of regimes from one quadrant to other, simultaneously altering the reference points.11 The economic mode moved from colonial exploitation of the natives (precapitalist/primitive), to imperial expropriation of the periphery (socialist/capitalist), to (dis)integration of global economy (state versus society-oriented reform). Simultaneously, the cultural code shifted fr om questioning the validity of traditionalism (traditionalism/modernity), to critiquing the political and social utility of religion (secular/theocratic), to finally confronting th e challenging task of making it an integral part of governance (lib eralist/literalis t). Proper contextualiza tion of liberalism may hopefully advance the cultural code toward ente rtaining a rights/duties spectrum, one that goes beyond the confinement of religiosity. For as long as Islamists were politically and economically weak, they managed to stay under the umbrella of traditionalism in their confrontation with modern elites during the period of independence and slightly after. The modern appeal of Islamists made them representatives of Islam -both popular and ideological-given its combat against socialists/communists during the Cold War. The rise of Islamic revivalism enticed Islamists to dissolve their co alition with conser vative parties that were the primary representatives of the peri phery, and pursue economic and political policies that only 11 With the fall of Russian communism, a new era with the East has arisen --this time one against those very forces formed in prior melees. The “War on Terror” is, in essence, a militaristic manifestation of the animosity felt by the West against the extremism it helped to create. Nominally against --those who embrace wholeheartedly totalitarianism in the name of religion-it inst ead has hindered even those who would seek to reconcile political differences by creatin g an even more divergent political environment. It was not long before President Bush announced his crusade (against the Muslim world) that he recanted and said Islam is a beautiful religion that was hijacked by terrorists. Embedded in this decorative statement is a political logic, which refuses to accept Islam as a po litical discourse that among many others rejects the hegemony of the West (Moris 2000). Translating Islamism into fundamentalism and equating the latter with extremism objectifies subduing it militarily and/or politically. The United States has tactically invaded countries with the least popularity; these are the secular and theocratic extremes, Iraq and Afghanistan, respectively. These are the regimes that mostly lack ed legitimacy, and thereby had weak links to the society.

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27 succeeded at the expense of unseating their traditional allies. Though the traditional middle ground is ill equipped intellectually to co nfront the Islamists, it will be aided with the Left that adjusted its strategy and the Right that is coerced internationally to play by the rules of the democratic game. Without making the reader overly optimistic, this paragraph assumes a move in the right dir ection for two reasons. First and foremost, by overcoming a dichotomous relationship and instead assuming a continuum along extremes, both culture and economics have amen ded their relationship with reality. As I mentioned in Chapter 1, rather than domi nate economics that inevitably creates an identity problem (see Chapter 6), the state can enhance the ability of the public sector to provide services to the privat e sector by providing education and health services to the poor, hence diffusing ethnic tension by way of integrating national economy. Also, an enlightened form of secularism can secu re a deliberation medium between various ideological views. Second, politicians --with their distrust of ideology and disenchantment with their performance-have realized the coordination of culture and economics as an important component of governance. With emphasis first on legal/institutiona l changes, followed by explication of economic/structural factors, this section attempts to systematically go through the national and international events that set this dynamic on the move Prior to and after independence there was a tension between trad itionalists and modernists. During the Cold War, there was a conflict between Islamists an d secularists. Toward the end of the Cold War and immediately after the rise of Islami c revivalism, the debate got heated between ideological Islam --that of center (sometimes referred in the literature as “high Islam”) and sufi Islam-that of the periphery (also re ferred to as “low Islam”). The liberal group,

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28 for reasons we will later discuss, suffers most the absence of society-oriented activists, that is, individuals who are wi lling to legitimate their liberal concerns Islamically. The report, Civil Democratic Islam: Part ners, Resources, and Strategies recently published by the National Security Research Division (Benard 2003), encourages its partners and strategic allies, who until now are uniden tifiable, to join in the “recognition of fundamentalism as a shared enemy” against the United States and Sufism.12 The report seeks to facilitate “cooperation between modernis ts and the traditiona lists who are closer to the modernist end of the spectrum.” There are many built-in defaults to this argument. First, the report uses rudi mentary definitions and anachr onistic categories that place Muslims along an ideological spectrum w ith a colossal gap between modernism and traditionalism. Second, the report overlooks the fact that modern-day Sufis and Salafis belong to the scripturalist end of the spectru m, with the only difference being that the Salafis choose the state as its vehi cle and the Sufis choose the society.13 Third, by translating scripturalism into fundamentalism and equating the latter with extremism, the United States risks repeating the mistakes of the Cold War, mainly advocating war as a way to resolving cultural and political conflicts.14 12 The view that Sufis are traditional allies of colonia lism/imperialism is an Islamist view that mistakes passive resistance for submissiveness. 13 The authority of political Islam cannot be diffused authoritatively, that is, through annihilation, imprisonment, or psychological torture, but by engaging it in a persistent and systematic debate that penetrates deep enough to influence change and gra dually cause a transformati on that makes accessible the liberal end of the ideological spectrum. Otherwise, what incentives do th ese “modernists” and/or “traditionalists” have for cooperation, with what objectives, and through what political mechanism? 14 The modern-day incarnation of the eternal strife between the East and the West, concerning as it did the two World Powers, was a battle over competing theories of ideology and economics. Lenin-Marxism, the political system of the Eastern Bloc, was designed to be completely devoid of religious tendencies. It was, as a result of this ideal, that when the Eastern Bloc began to expand its sphere of influence, it embraced those more secular nations of the Islamic world, and the United States began to seek out the more conservative, orthodox states. Th e United States supported the Sarekat-I-Islam against Sukarno in Indonesia, the Jamaat-I-Islami against Zulfigar Ali Butto in Pakistan, and the Society of Muslim Brothers

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29 To give itself a chance of educating public morality, Asad contends that colonialism dismissed traditional values as “irrational” and irrelevant, consequently making a “strategic separation between law and morality” that justified its use of force against the indigenous Mus lim population. For example, In Egypt the codes introduced at the turn of the century were largely European and secular while morality was largely rooted in Islamic tradition. This fact leads to the question of how interpretiv e tendencies and assumptions of ‘secular’ law engage with sensibilities and predispositions articulating ‘religious’ morality. If traditionally embodied conceptions of justice and unconsciously assimilated experience are no longer relevant to the ma intenance of law’s authority, then that authority will depend entirely on the force of the state e xpressed through its codes. (Asad 2003: 240) By so doing, colonialism registered its st rongest blow against Islam. Not only had colonialism severed the links between the ra tionality/scientific endeavors (which in the old days were exercised in the domain fiqh but not limited to it), morality, and political circles that Islamic Leviathans ill coordinate d, as I show in the previous section, but it also divided each upon itself thus causing a schizophrenia from which Muslims still suffer. Making a distinction between procedur al and substantive rationality (Weber 1982) deprives a community of its heritage, t hus denying it existence (Taylor 1992). Asad correctly notes, tradition is not based on rationality founde d belief but on commitment to a shared way of life divinely mandated. The techni ques of the body (kinesthetic as well as sensory) employed in rituals of worship are taught and le arnt within the tradition, helping to form the abilities to discrimina te and judge correctly, for these abilities against Nasser in Egypt.14 The expectation was that political Islam would provide a local buffer against secular nationalism (Mamdani 2004:121). Therefore, through the course of several decades, competing nations exacerbated the ideological polarization in Muslim states. A gulf was widened between the moderate and radical factions of Islamic society, and the trend con tinues to this day. In his book, Good Muslim Bad Muslim Mahmoud Mamdani asserts, “Moderate m ovements organize and agitate for social reform within the existing political context. Radical movements organize to win power, having concluded the existing political situation is the main obstacle to political reform” (Mamdani 2004:38). The nationalist appeal was replaced with internationalist zeal.

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30 are the precondition not only of Islamic ethics in genera l but also-and this is the point I want to stress – of the la w’s moral authority. (Asad 2003: 249) The separation between law and ethics cau ses an enigma because it challenges the conception that sharia is “the process wh ereby individuals are educated and educate themselves as moral subjects in a scheme that connects the obligation to act morally with the obligation to act legally in complicated ways” (Asad 2003: 241). This demarcation between private and public morality has adverse effects, as it opens the door for patrimonialism (For example, individuals do not feel shame embezz ling public funds to fulfill private responsibilities, nonetheless th ey may consider themselves religiously devout). It deprives the state of a spiritual endowment it could utilize to do development, thereby overcoming its distance from the so ciety. Badie and Birnba um (1983) contend that the political development espoused by the colonials has split "third world societies in two: one segment of society derives its legi timacy from the desire for modernization, while the other strives to preserve national tr aditions without any effort of adaptation or reform" (Badie and Birnbaum 1983: 99). Not su rprisingly, colonialis m succeeded in its original plan: portraying modernity and tr aditionalism as running at cross-purposes. To be modern was to be free from ties of community and tradition and live instead with forms of regulation that were formal specified, and impersonal, whereas to be moral was to live with common cultural va lues and strongly inscribed traditions that effectively denied democracy, indivi dual self-development, and equality. In short, one could have eith er individual rights without binding moral codes or binding moral codes without indivi dual rights. (W olfe 1989: 191-192) Nevertheless, says Schulze, “traditional Islamic culture” did not disappear. “The bastion of that tradition remained mystic ism. The movements of rebellion against colonialism were based on this traditiona l culture, and the hostility between it and colonialism was extended to relations with the official Islam that colonialism had created” (Asad 2003: 21). This form of “conservative Islam” will continue its

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31 collaboration with state elites even after its independence. The failure of the post-colonial state will deprive the state appointed scholars ( ulama ) of leadership position their counterparts had at the beginning of the 20th century. The vacuum will be filled by modernist elites.15 Unlike their predecessors, the cons ervatives, who accepted their role as an instrument of the state, the Islamists us e the state to achieve their religious objective of wanting to establish an Islamic state. The characteristics of this state will be examined carefully in the coming sections. However, it behooves the reader to recognize that the project of civilizing the Muslim popul ation, one that justifie d the use of force, is one that modernists forces, be it Islami sts or communists, shar e with the colonial masters. Marnia Lazreg contends, The Islamists aim is not to re-Islamize people as is often said. Rather, it recolonizes private and public spaces by in fusing them with new meanings and norms derived from ideational and behavioral sources that sound familiar to individuals because they are expressed in the Arabic language and refer to a monolithic Islam.(Lazreg in Ahmida 2000: 149) Though their treatment of Sufism as irrational is objectionable from a philosophical standpoint (something that complicated their conceptualization of education and caused them to mystify rather than analyze history, see Chapter 4), it alienated the center which was spiritually connected and already had m eager economic ties with the periphery. The advocacy of modernist forces --both secularists (who during the course of the Cold War existed either as Socialists Naserist forces or Communists Leninist forces) and Islamists (who existed either as conservative traditiona lists or radical mode rnists)-a monolithic approach to truth, that is, ideological appr oach to power, denied them malleability they 15 They are modern in the sense that they use the institu tions of the modern state to achieve their objectives and not necessarily adhere to the philosophical and sociological roots of modernity, that is, they do not promise liberalism, they present old ideas in modern cloth.

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32 could have used to swiftly move between ir ony and ideology. For example, Jamal Abd alNaser mobilized ethnicity as the “natural” source of political and social cohesion (Eickelman and Piscatori 1992). However, as ho nest an effort to contain ethnicity under the umbrella of an Arab supero rdinate identity, it failed to sta nd the test of “authenticity.” First, it was challenged locally by Islamist s who questioned its intellectual/spiritual validity to combat an enemy, Israel, that wa s only growing stronger. Second, its political utility proved useless when it go t proposed as a model of de velopment to countries with culturally heterogeneous societie s, such as Sudan or Morocco Tibi contends, “The core of ethnicity resides in the socially produced and ever-cha nging quartet of common myths, memories, values and symbols. Thus, ethnicity cannot be properly defined in terms of static cultural elements, such as Arabness, or shared essential relig ious beliefs, such as Sunni Islam” (Tibi 2002: 127, 136). The more political challenge Naser --or his disciples of the Arab world-faced the more they resorted to the masculine feature of the legal state, force, and they relinquished its feminist component, symbolism. Not surpri singly, force created its antithesis. Muslim Brothers who aided President Naser in hi s ascension to power challenged him using Islamic ideology that gained salience, especia lly after the Israeli defeat of Egypt in the 1967 War. They presented a “modernized form ulation of the idea that Islam is the archetype of the world,” to borrow Abdou F ilali-Ansary’s expression, which suited the emotions of already stressed populations (Ansary 2003: 5). Themselves suffering the disruption and dislocation of modernity (Tibi 2002), Muslim Brothers presented a model that insisted on divine author ity as arbiter of not only relig ious but also political and social life, a concept Qutb calls hakemeya --God’s Sovereignty (Eubenne 1999: 22).

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33 Qutb considers the implementation of the sharia the responsibility of the state. The mixing of nonsacral politics w ith a sacral understanding of religion is problematic in many ways (Soroush 2000: 60). First, this mi xing overlooks functional differentiation as a basic feature that separates the modern state.16 Hourani contends, “The inexorable development of law, of administration and of economic life was bringing about a de facto separation of the religious and secular sphere s” (Hourani 1981: 185). This eased a burden that religion endured for centuries --estab lishing communitarian bond necessary for the existence of humans as a socio-political entity (Galyoun 1991). It was only in the last two centuries that the concept of citizenship evol ved, which gave humans a chance to identify through administrative/political rather than primordial ties. This necessitated a transformation of the classic concept of supreme sovereignt y to elective and contractual sovereignty, as a prelude to legitimation based on popular support and not personalized authority (Lewis 1988). Modernity has shaken the fundamentalist claim "that certain truths about the nature and purpose of community life are absolute and self-evident" (Eubenne 1999:13). This of itself is a signi ficant achievement because only now, unlike any other time in the history of Muslims, can the fulfillment of the Islamic aspirations become part and parcel of the de mocratic process (Khurshid 2000). Introspectively speaking, the ideology of the Muslim Brothers was not less authoritarian than Naserism. It revitalized el ements of the despotic model of the Abbasid Amir, which suited the heritage of the co lonial state and which Muslims until today confuse with the model of Prophet Mohamed (PBUH)and the Four Righteous Caliphates, thus giving it sentimental if not historical credibility. Naseri sm inevitably gave way to the 16 Vatikiotis asserts, “The wedding of Islam to a modern state is not a straightorward preposition (Vatikiotis in Cudsi and Dessouki” 1981: 193).

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34 rise of Pan-Islamism. After all, Mu slims blamed Turkis h nationalism --though incorrectly-for the demise of the Otto man Empire as the bastion against the advancement of Imperialism in Muslim lands. Islamists accuse Arab nationalism of conspiring to help erect the Zi onist state in exchange for gua rantees by the British and the French to secure their monarchies. Collabo ration between conservative regimes in the region and Western powers became evident the more the enemy assumed control of Muslim lands (Abu-Zaid 2000). Israel was to grow stronger at the expense of weakening the Arab world. Democratization of Muslim c ountries was either resisted or completely thwarted. Pushed to its logical conclusion, democracy could elect forces that would resist American exploitation of the region, and therefor e threaten its economic interest. It is an act of fate that Pale stine should become the point of c onfrontation between Islam and the West, between a civilization motivated by faith and an empire prope lled by materialism (Ahmad 1992). It is under these circumstances that extremists became representatives of both camps. Radical Islamists push forward a cu ltural argument that pays no attention to global economic interdependence as a de f acto reality, leaving no room for illusion of demarcation between the Muslim and the “infidel” (referred to in conventional nomenclature as dar al-hard and dar al-Islam ). Christian fundamentalists sell their biblical fallacies to consumerist so cieties in a capitalis t cloth (Ali 2002). Islamic Revivalism: Adaptation or Retreat To better understand how regional/interna tional circumstances influenced regime change in the Muslim world, we need to complement cultural/ideological displacement that Muslims had undergone with economic tr ansformation that colonial developmental policies introduced to the re gion, (refer to Figure 1). “Reinhard Schulze once asked a question most historians have taken for gr anted: Why did nineteenth-century Islamic

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35 reformers take so eagerly to the European interpretation of Islami c history as one of ‘civilizational decadence?’ The interesting an swer he gives refers to political and economic changes, as well as to the cultural c onsequences of print. European capitalism, he points out, transformed the 18th century mode of surplus ex traction through rent into a system of unequal exchange between me tropolis and colony. Because the traditional forms of political legitimation were now no l onger appropriate to th e colonial situation, he argues, a new ideological creed emerged out of the soci al-economic disintegration of the old society and of the effects of print on its culture. European historical reason (including the notion of an Islamic Golden Age followed by a secular decline under the Ottomans) was adopted by the new elites, he suggests, via books from and about Europe, as well as the Islamic “classics” selected for printing by European orientalists and by Westernized Egyptians. That civilizational discourse could now be used, concludes Schulze, to legitimize the claim to equali ty and independence” (Assad 2003: 218). These claims were articulated by elites who by vi rtue of reasonable e xposure to Western or Eastern ideas, respectively, or iginating from Europe (France, Britain) and the Islamic centers (Egypt, Saudi Arabia, and so forth), entrusted by traditional leaders to carry the nation building process. For reasons we will discuss later (see Chapter 4), elites privileged with Western education were better equipped in tellectually to take over from colonials and thereby lead their countries to Independence. Although th e colonials favored the “nobility” with educational opportunities, it was the economically disadvantaged that played an antagonist role, not necessarily an instrumental one. Co llaboration betw een these two groups was instrumental to reducing the human cost of resisting col onialism. It was not

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36 long before the economic interest of morally co nservative forces collided head to head with morally liberal elitist groups that were de termined to use the st ate to politically and economically challenge the status quo. Marxis m was destined to fail in the Arab/Muslim world because it relinquished the very tool --spirituality-that the center used to traditionally maintain its link with the peri phery. There were no class interests in the underdeveloped world that stood independent of Islam. It could have articulated to overcome the distance between the center and the periphery. The Baat hist regime of Iraq was among the last survivals of socialism. In addition to exogenous va riables, it survived longer due to its flexibility and willin gness to engage, though manipulatively and exploitatively, some cultural components, be it ethnicity (such as Arabs versus Kurds in Iraq) and/or religion (Almohads /Shiite versus Sunnis in Syria or Iraq). Cultural symbols did not prove malleable --at least not in th e hands of modernists’ forces-because by virtue of being statist, they ignored societ y efforts for reform. Conservative amalgams, who were then the representatives of the masse s (as authoritarian as that may be ruled by libertarian standards, they inherited the allegi ance of the masses), became very distrustful of elite agenda, which it considered radi cal, and consequently mobilized cultural resources to combat socialist/communist forces. Sharia was instrumental in this regard. It influenced the advance of politics for quite a long time along a cultural dimension. It was not until recently, that is, precisely with the rise of Isla mists to power, such as in Sudan, did this Uni-dimensionality start disappeari ng. That is to say, the economic dimension become visible. The end of the Cold War, which for a l ong time provided impunity for allies of both camps, had the effect of forcing regime s to face political real ities that extended

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37 along economic and cultural domains. In the Islamic Leviathan, Nasr argues that “islamization must be underst ood in terms of both its defens ive function --a response to political and ideological challenges to ruling re gimes at times of cris is-and its proactive function, to get better terms in negotiations with social forces for power and capacity.” What appeared to some as a pseudo-cultural response to modernity was actually a “conscious strategic choice,” on behalf of e lites who wanted to ideologically overcome the distance between the center and the peri phery. He continues, “Islamism doesn’t purport to be some form of liberalism”--as it does not engage the problematic of the dominant of the state . nor al ter the scaffolding that sustains its edifice as in the case of Iran. It merely repackages the postcolonial stat e as Islamic, that is, gives it a cultural reorientation (Nasr 2001: 17, 106). The choice of high Islam was strategic to modernist groups, this time Islamists, who favored the center over the periphery. Th ey denounced as obsolete the attempt of the state to direct national economy and instead us ed the market as their vehicle to personal wealth. The more they ignored the economic and political demands of the periphery the more the racial hierarchy that facilitated su ch exploitation became visible. Religion is related to ethnicity inasmuch as political groups are chie fly ethnoreligious in their ideological composition. Tibi correctly asse rts, “this new phenomenon can be observed throughout the world of Islam, but perhaps most clearly in Afghanistan, where three major ethnic groups --the Pashtun, Tadjik, and Uzbek-struggle for power, in the name of religion. In the multiethnic Afghan society, we see clearly that religion does not unite, but rather is mingled with, et hnicity as a divisive force. In Afghanistan and in Sudan, ethnic fragmentation undermines the capabilities of the Isla mic fundamentalists, and in

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38 Sudan the fundamentalists are in power.”17 It took Muslims of western Sudan decades to realize that this notion of an “Islamic State” --one that ju stified declaring jihad against southern Christians-was nothing more than an ideology northerners used to continue their hegemony over the rest of the country. In contrast to ideological Islam that spared no effort to exploit these cleavages, the Darf ur conflict is a case in point. Sufi Islam through the centuries diffused ethnic tensi on between Arabs and Africans in western Sudan. Not only so but also ameliorated the frictions between pagans, Christians, and Muslims all over the African and Asian continen ts. Filali-Ansary assert s, “The realization that Islam, properly understood, is not a system of social and political regulation frees up space for cultures and nations --in the m odern sense of those words-to lay the foundations of collective id entity” (Filali-Ansary 2003: 9). As a reaction to the political/ideological imposition of Islam, so me scholars have made the case for popular Islam as only a system of ethics. Inasmuch as Sufism remains the link of the center with the periphery, it needs to be enticed to part icipate directly in the political process. Relegating Sufism to the spiritual realm is equivalent to giving it a carte blanche to access the political corridor through the back door, that is, practice politics under the auspices of tyrants (Cudsi 1983). Aside from adopting wrong developmental st rategies, which in most cases were exogenously influenced, these forces made no effort to change the aforementioned characteristics that identified colonial rule. They contrasted distinctive high Islam that of the center --with diffusive low Islam-that of the periphery, and they decreed the low Islam as irrational. In so doing, they separa ted religious prudence, which was expressed 17 Islam became associated with remote provincial communities, whose earlier religious association gradually became ethnici zed (Tibi 2002: 131).

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39 in total and uncompromising terms from ethics of the public that historically evolved outside the corridor of political power. This incursion justifie d the use of force and spared Islam “the Sufi love of Ibn Arabi, the reason-based orientation of Ibn Rushd, the historicizing thought of Ibn Khaldun, and al-F arabi’s secular concept of order” (Tibi 2002). I would add the humanism of Rumi, the c ourage of Halag, the intellectual integrity of Ahmad b. Hanbal, and so forth.18 These are the needed seeds for an Islamic enlightenment that can liberate the Muslim mind and soul from the domain of medieval theology. Between the Muslim and accessing hi s rich heritage are thick layers of interpretation that can only be accessed epistemologically, not ideologically or dogmatically (Arkoun 1999; Abu-Zaid 1996; Al-Sha rafi 2001; Harb 2000; Al-jabri 2001; Filali-Ansary 2003). Modernity and Modernization: Diffe rent Notions and definitions Democracy as meaning governmental stru ctures that ensure alternation in governance, transparency in governance, a nd accountability to the governed (Diamond 2003) is a necessary not sufficient condition.19 It needs to be substa ntiated with education as a tool that can expose Muslims to the mode rn-day achievements, as well as give them 18 Bellah asserts, “The Hanbalis, ass we have noted, were the only school that allowed a wife to claim dissolution of her marriage if her husband married a second wife in breach of a prior agreement not to do so. By today’s standards, Ahmad b. Hanbal was a liberal. Even though Saudi Arabia adopts his school thought, its family laws reflect cultural impositions than sharia precepts. Also, Asian Muslims, mainly Pakistani and Indians, rigidly adhere to the Hanafi school of thought, but they fail to realize that their mazhab “represent eclectic amalgams of the doctrines of the four schools” (Coulson 1965: 85). 19 In his article The Elusive Reformation El-Affendi asserts, “The question of whether liberal democracy can be given a ‘truly’ Islamic basis is unanswerab le, since there cannot conceivably be any Islamic democratic movement which is untouched by the influe nces and challenges of Western liberal-democratic thought and practice. Meanwhile, any modern Islamic reform movement trumpeting its liberal-democratic potential begs the question of whether religious-cum-cultural reform is a precondition for democratization, since to cite favorably the presumed liberal-democratic potential of a particular interpretation of Islam is to assume that there is already a broad Muslim constituen cy for liberalism and democracy as things desirable in and of themselves. Not all those classified as ‘Muslim liberals’ base their liberalism on theological assumptions; in fact the majority do not” (El-Affendi 2003: 1).

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40 an opportunity to revitalize elements in their he ritage that can help with the promotion of principles of pluralism, tolerance, and inclus ivity-values that are embedded in current international efforts to foster de mocracy around the world. Although Masmoudi considers liberal Islam “the nascent voice of the Muslim world’s silenced majority” (Masmoudi 2003: 4,1), this section asserts th at the term “liberal ” does not precisely capture the pervasive ideologi cal orientation. The majority of Muslims are not liberal, they are moderates. The Muslim lives valu es of individual liber ty, human dignity, and human rights in his moral consciousness not in th eir social or political reality. Influential events happened along the history of Islam, as I have explicated in previous sections that made the individual submissive to the fam ily, the society subservi ent to the state, and the state ( ummah ) incapable of translating prophetic pr escriptions into a universal vision (Filali-Ansary 2003: 7), rather than expect the opposite.20 20 “On the surface it is more than a clash of cultures, mo re than a confrontation of races: it is a straight fight between two approaches to the world, two opposed philosophies. And under the great complexity of the structures involved --the layers of history, the mosaic of cultures-we can simplify in order to discover the major positions. One is based in secular materialism, the other in faith; one has rejected belief altogether, the other has placed it at the center of its world-view It is, therefore, not simply between Islam and the West --although many Muslims and non-Muslims who are brought up to believe in this simplistic formula will be surprised at this conclusion. On the threshol d of the twenty-first centur y the confrontation between Islam and the West poses terrible internal dilemmas fo r both. The test for Muslims is how to preserve the essence of the Quranic message, of adl and ahsan ilm and sabr without it being reduced to an ancient and empty chant in our times; how to participate in the global civilization without their identity being obliterated. It is an apocalyptic test; the most severe examination” (Ahmed 1992: 264).

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41 Society-oriented Reform Figure 2-1: Basic Parameters Determ ining Islam's Relation to D emocracy. Muslims accept democracy as a means that can moderate polit ics peacefully. But Muslims may not necessarily be receptive to a reconceptua lization of religious doctrine that grants women, Muslim minorities (Shiites living in a predominantly Sunni majority, or vice versa), and non-Muslims their economic political, and social rights. Concepts such as dar-al-harb/dar-al-Islam (land of Muslims versus infidels), dheme (Christian or Jew), and hareem (isolation of women in private pl aces) still permeate Muslim culture, both politically and socially. This is not to say anything negative about Islam but to remind the reader of the extent that Islam has often been described as an egalitarian religion and, in a profound sense, this is true the world into which Islam came at the time of its advent in the seventh century was very far from egalitarianism. Lewis offers three

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42 inequalities in particular were established and regulate d by law and developed through centuries of usage: the unequal status of ma ster and slave, of man and woman, of Muslim and non-Muslim. These are, of course, three di fferent kinds of classifications, which may overlap or intersect, and th e practical effects of belongi ng to one or other of these categories varied greatly from time to time and from place to place (Lewis 1988: 65,66). The rising popularity of Islamist trends Abdalwahab El-Affendi argues, “has created a fear among liberals that democr atic forms may hand power to illiberal Islamists.” (El-Affendi 2003: 3). For them, “The introduction of electoral democracy without the existence of constitutional liber ties will mean electoral victories for illiberal Islamists who would (ab)buse their new ins titutionally-recognized political power to destroy the most basic civil liberties, even eliminating elections themselves” (Zakaria 2004:108). Surprisingly, despots have used thes e genuine scholarly concerns to sabotage the democratic process. They adopted t ools that further embedded the Islamist “salvationist” appeal. Nasr correctly assert s, “In many cases, the secularization drive pushed religion out of the public sphere where it could no longer be effectively regulated or controlled by the state. As a result, religion --made more politically conscious-festered in the private arena as a potential source of support for opposition to the state and its ideology. In Pahlavi Ira n, the Islamic Revolution of 1979 resulted from exactly this process. As a result, Islam remained important to politics in Muslim states, and ultimately ruling regimes admitted to this as they turned to the repertoire of Islamic symbols and cultural tools to shore up their authority. The outward secular image of the state therefore was in contradiction to its own use of Islami c cultural manifestations” (Nasr 2001: 21). It is not as much the manipulation of cultural symbols that these regimes exercised but the

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43 oligopoly that they used to reign over pow er without attempti ng to rationalize the structure and working of state institutions that contributed to their bankruptcy. Williamson differentiates between culture, ins titutional environment, and governmental structure. He asserts that each has a life cy cle of its own; culture being at the deepest level (L1) assumes a life of 1,000 years,21 institutional environment at the second deepest level (L2) persists for 100 y ears, and governmental structures (L3) not as deeply rooted 10 years (Williamson 2000). This theory elegantly resolves the dile mma that scholars have over which level comes first: cultural features or institutional norms. They have to be compatible in design and orientation. Manipulation of cultural sym bols provides the consensus needed to steer development in the right direction without resorting to violence. Without hegemony governance becomes an impossibility, too much of it kills dissent and eventually causes apathy.22 Evans contends, “Re-examining the developmental state means rethinking embedded autonomy. In developmental states, connectedness has meant ties with industrial elites. Can embedded autonomy al so be built around ties to other groups?” (Evans 1995: 228) In the absence of material links, state elites ca nnot extract resources without influencing or even manipulating “thinkability.”23 To make the latter operationable, development has to go beyond that what is material; it has to revitalize 21 The theocratic model of the Abbasid dynasty, which Al-jabri claims have influenced the beginning of authoritarianism in Islam, had been established exactly 10 centuries ago, that is, 1,000 years (Al-jabri 2001). 22 Liberalism remains an illusion in the Western world, that is, individuals live within a cage in which they do not detect its presence; authoritarianism is the antinomian in the Muslim world where all that the individual sees is the bars of the cage. 23 That is to say make a distinction between those who think politics like conservative groups (sufis in the periphery) and those who think politically like modernist forces (Islamists in the center) in the Muslim world.

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44 education and reconfigure spaces for politic al socialization. This is precisely the predicament of political change in the deve loping Muslim world: it is dependent on historical immaterialism and not historical materialism.24 Whereas individualism (that is, economic liberty) was the tool by which a European gained his individua lity, i.e., political freedom remains the Muslims’ only means to changing conditions of subjugation. It is along the economic dimension that revolution occurred in Europe.25 In the Muslim/African world, there is not enough socioeconomic stratification that can cause a poli tical revolution; it is along the cultural dimension that revolution occurs in this part of the world. This paper asserts that education, a major realm in which the state ex ists and builds its pow er relations culture (Mitchell 1988: 76), has been used by most Muslim states to reproduce rather than overcome the pathologies of politics.26 Ehteshami contends, The process from liberalization/pluralizat ion to democratization in the Muslim world is riddled with contradictions. The inherent tensions, which mark the boundaries between the civil and religi ous power, offer another unique but important barrier which is yet to be ov ercome if Islam and democracy are to 24 In full-fledged capitalist societies, the state has developed over the course of the centuries enough material links that it can use to influence the way they think about themselves. This collective identity is maintained, refined, or redefined through a redistribu tion of resources to which the state plays a central role. 25 “In Europe the contribution of religion to state formation was rooted less in economic considerations, and more in ethics” (Nasr 2001: 19). 26 Despite commitment to secularism, the monarchies in Morocco and Saudi Arabia associate themselves with Islam in different forms: Sharifian principle --genealogization of charisma to the Prophet, and religious leadership of the ummah (whole nation), respectively. While the king claims to be a descendent of Prophet Mohamed, the king of Saudi Arabia strives to be the leader of the Muslim ummah Though Saudi Arabia and Morocco attempt to keep the state pure from societal penetration, religion is not granted autonomy from the state. These two countries allocate a sizable budget to domesticate Islam in accordance with the needs of the state. Regimes of this type combine the worst of both modernity and traditionalism. They use the “tutelary power” of the state to erect hierarchies of power, prestige and privilege (Tocqueville 2004:52), that effectively deny democracy, individual self-development, and equality (Wolf 1989:191). Needless to say, the religious demand of political conformity of this kind can produce schizophrenics at best and hypocrites at worst, but not believers.

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45 emerge as complementary forces in modern Muslim societies. So in this context, the pursuit of the agenda of constituti onalism and good governance, which largely avoid some of the ideological underpinni ngs of the western ‘democratic model’ might still bear fruit, particularly if systematically pursued in Muslim polities with pluralizing tendencies and embedded horizon tal features of democracy. (Ehteshami 2004:107) Can “steering,” which is the layman’s e xpression for governance, be done without causing cultural fatigue or deeming institutio ns ineffective? Does democratic rule necessarily imply a cultural reorientation that links the individual with his inner self, the society with its various organs, and the stat e with its variegate components? What role can international factors play in expanding the scope of governance beyond lib/lit duality to a rights/duties spectrum?

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46 CHAPTER 3 ISLAM AND THE POLITICS OF STATE FORMATION: SUDAN AND MOROCCO IN HISTORICAL PERSPECTIVE Prior to colonialism, politics in Islamic countries was conducted almost exclusively within the literal trad ition. Politics was about immaterial values, a phenomenon that gave particular weight to those who were best suited to interpret the religious text and/or use those immaterial values to mobilize popular support: official scholars ( ulama ), nonofficial scholars relying on mysticism ( sufis ), and/or blood lineage to the Prophet Mohammed ( sharifs ). Because of the competition betw een these groups and the scope for different interpretations of the religious texts, this kind of politics tended to be unstable. It veered between efforts to centralize control and escape from it. The history of Islam in Sudan and Morocco --as elsewhere-is charac terized by this struggl e between centripetal and centrifugal forces: the ulama trying to centralize and the sufis to disaggregate and decentralize power. Although the religious and po litical configurations in Morocco and Sudan bore a definite resemblance because of their incor poration into the Islamic world, there were also differences that stem from thei r relation to Islamic authority in the Mashreg (East), notably Saudi Arabia and what is now Iraq, as well as the geographic conditions of the two countries. Thus, centralization of author ity to a monarch proved easier in Morocco because of the religio-poliltical dialectic between the Maghreb (Islamic Spain/ AlAndalusia) and the Mashreq Also, the possibility of establ ishing central control thanks to a system of irrigated agricultu re. The prevalence of rain-fed agriculture in the Sudan and

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47 its peripheral position in relation to religious authority made Sufism and disaggregation of authority more dominant. Such were the differences that existed at the time of European colonization of Africa. The French became the masters of Mo rocco; the British, following the weak reign of Ottoman rulers, took cont rol of Sudan, albeit only af ter having quelled a major rebellion. With exposure to what was gradua lly emerging as the liberal tradition within these countries, politics ch anged in colonial days by becoming more stable and influenced by a wider range of variables. Th e social and political tensions were no longer confined merely to those within the litera l tradition. Conflicts be tween the literal and liberal traditions took on in creasing significance and became the basis for the formation of new political parties, spanning the full spect rum from theocratic literalism to secular communism, an issue to be fu rther explored in Chapter 4. The purpose of this chapter is to present the gradual evolution of politics within the Islamic tradition in Morocco and Sudan, demonstrating the similarities and differences. It follows a historical trajectory by first discussing the political dynamics in these countries prior to colonialism, and second by focusi ng on changes during the colonial period. It ends at the time of independence in the mid-20th century. Centripetal and Centrifugal Tende ncies in Pre-colonial Days Historians and scholars of contemporary Islam have made the tension between centripetalism and centrifugalism a major theme in describing the essence of politics in Islamic societies (Hourani 1981; Al-Jabri 2001; Hodgson 1977; and Lewis 1988). It goes as far back as the time when Islam first cros sed the desert of Arabia to northern Africa. The dynamics of sufis pulling toward the peripher y (centrifugal force) and mahdis (messianic leaders) pulling toward the center (centripetal force) influence the interplay of

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48 religion and politics in both Morocco a nd Sudan (Stiansen and Kevane 1998; Duran 1985; Degorge 2000; Warburg 1995). Since both countries are at the “periphery” of the Islamic world, this tension remained more politic al than religious. The ability of rulers to overcome such tendency depended much on the geography of their countries, topography, socio-cultural contex t, and, more importantly, po litical developments that preceded and/or followed the ar rival of colonialism to the African continent (al-Geibli 1987; Hammoudi 1997). Institutional Basis of “Obedience” The political dominance of particular families, mainly the sharifs, scholars (ulama or fugaha), and/or Sufis ,explains the prevalence of “obedience” in Morocco and Sudan. This value spread in the form of baraka --blessing-and permeated the two cultures with different intensity and extensity. As it requires dedication and special pedagogical training, it was more common am ong settlers than pastoralis ts. In addition to occupation, the topography of the two countries influenced their socio-political differences. Morocco succeeded in centralizing power through its monopoly over physical resources --mainly cultivatable land that was limited and mountai nous-and forceful mobilization of human and physical resources that was legitimate in the face of immine nt danger from the Crusaders, and, at a later stage, Portuguese and Spanish invaders. On the contrary, Sudan faced limited external threat and had vast amounts of flat accessible land, which thwarted the state’s ability to create an economic hier archy or feudal aristocracy by which it could steer the process of political development in the direction required by the Caliphate. Proximity of the Magreb to Islamic Religious Authority In his book, State, Sainthood, and Space at the Middle Magreb Al-Geible cites four states in the history of Morocco that fit the definition of a centrist state that had

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49 successful monopoly over spiritual and material resources (al-Geible 1987). These states include: the Almuravids (the Almuravids 1100 A.D.); Almohads (the Almohads -1200 AD), mareeniyeen (1450 A.D.); and sa’daeen (1600 A.D.). Without exception, each of these dynasties accused its predecessors of collaborating with the invaders. The Moroccan/Islamic territory was continuously threatened by the Crusaders after the demise of the Umayyad Caliphate in Al-A ndalusia (today’s Spain), and each dynasty relinquished its duty of guarding the public morality. To have exclusive monopoly over politics, or at least not feel obliged to consult the indigenous populations, rulers throughout the history of the Maghreb sought to align themselves with an external source of power. Also, due to the complexity of the society and the undul ating circumstances, none of the rulers could maintain as their priority “enjoining g ood and forbidding evil.” Each of these four dynasties imposed its vision of morality through the adaptation of a sectarian religious doctrine: 1) adaris a introduced Shiite Zaideya/Isma’eliya; 2) Almuravids adopted the Malik i Sunni school of thought; 3) Almohads had links to a Shiite Mutazelaite; 4) and Asa’rhaite doctrines (specifically Mohamed Al-Wattassi was a Shiite who made Shiism the dominant mazhab or religious doctrine of the state), was later inherited by the mareeniyeen. These doc trines did not nece ssarily reflect the aspiration of the local population as much as the surrounding dynamics. The state in the Magreb (northeast Africa) enjoyed relati ve independence. Oftentimes it aligned religiously with the state in Mashreg --Abbasids in Baghdad -to gain political support whenever it could afford to es tablish its own religious author ity. That often gave the local authority impunity that justified discri mination, persecution, and torture against tribal/societal forces that were not aligned with the ruling regime.

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50 The polemical environment that existed in the Mashreg (east of Arabia), as a result of the Kharjite revolt (724 A.D.) against th e religiously established authority, caused the migration of some of the sharifs --des cendents of the Prophet Mohamed. The most prominent among them was Mulaye Idris to ward the Maghreb. The Abbasid Caliphate (1234 A.D.). Haroon Arrasheed, feared th e mobilization of his opponents for the emotionally charged environment and conseque ntly persecuted all the sharifs. Mulaye Idris fled the Mashreg with his servant, was received by the Berber tribes who embraced Islam and later made him a king. His assassin ation by an agent of the Caliphate took a psychological hold of the masses so much so that some insisted on opening his grave sometime after his death. They found fresh blood coming out of his body, thus confirming his welaya, sainthood. Mulaye Idris did not live long. Nonetheless, his legacy will for centuries define the tripartite of power: sharifism, scholarship, and sufism (of which mahdism or millenarianism is but one manifestation). For example, Ibni Tomart, who was the founder of the Almohads dynasty, was a Mahdi (see glossary for definition), an Imam (equivalent of a fagih), and a descende nt of Idris II, who is a descendent of Idris I. Also, Alaouite, the ruling dynasties of today’s Morocco, are descendents of Mulaye Idris. Those who lacked any of these credentials had to make up or form a coalition with someone who had it. For example, mareeniyeen considered themselv es direct heirs of Almohads. Sa’daeen redefined sharf (honor that one receives through his blood lineage to the Prophet Mohamed) to religious purity. A bd al-Rahman contends that sharifism is a strategy that attempts to rejuvenate political asceticism that manifested itself in al-Hassan b. Ali and/or courage in faci ng religious authoritarianism that rested greatly with his

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51 younger brother al-Hussein b. Ali, both being the descendents of the Prophet from his daughter Fatima and his cousin-in-law Ali b. abi-Talib (Abd al-Rahman 1997). The great historian, b. kuldoun, is the first to have pointed out this phenomenon. He commented, “anytime you have a religious fervor and a tribal bond ( asabeya ), you will have a state in the Arab world” (Rosenthal 1981). The sultan engaged his forces in jihad, and when danger was eminent at home, he accused his opposition of apostasy or rida This was zealous, according to Al-Geibli, th at manifested itself locally. Since there was literally no room for politics, tribal people resorted to Sufism/Welaya as a form of passive resistance that could he lp diffuse the power of the cen ter. Later, they collected their forces to face a decaying regime in th e form of Mahdism/Sharifism. Power resides in the form of fagih, leaves the center in the form of welaya (sainthood), and returns to it in the form of mahdaweya (millenarianism). People seek refuge in Sufism from the rigidity of theology, accept Sharif ism (the origin of the word Sharaf means “honor”) to regain religious purity, and submit to Islamic jurisprudence (fiqh) to maintain political stability. Through their control of travel routes, Al -Geibi argues, the Almuravids succeeded in monopolizing, if not completely homogenizi ng, the socio-political space (Al-Geibli 1989:76,77). Bin-Tashfeen, the leader of the Al muravids state (who was called Amir AlMuslemeen, translated Prince of Muslims), is the first to have attempted to manage the diffusiveness of power and to reduce the petalfugal tension in favor for the latter. To do this they made alignments with people of their own ethnic background and others whom they could entrust with guarding the road in ex change for rewards in the form of prestige or material gain. Looting, killing, and kidna pping were the norm rather than the anomaly.

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52 It did not escape the attention of natives to ascribe some mystical/super qualities to a person who traveled alone and arrived safely to his destination. Some historians contend that traveling at this time was so dangerous that religious scholars had to issue a decree making “voluntary” the obligatory religious duty of the pilgrimage. Moroccans, who did not feel a need to pay allegiance to the central authority, cont inued performing the pilgrimage by paying dues to these shifta (individuals engaged in the act of armed robbery).1 However, the central auth ority did not limit its focus to controlling transport routes. It spread its influen ce through various and oftentimes cruel means, which included displacement of rural inhabitants, for ceful acquisition of their belongings, and appropriations of land. Through its agents in the rural areas, the state forced the peasants into bringing their crops to the center. The st ate later distributed these crops to whomever it pleased, thereby obtaining the loyalty of tribal/religious patrons. The erection of a social hierarchy, along with the manipulation of religious symbols, spared the central authority excessive use of force. Accordi ng to al-Geibli, the term “Makzan” (which literally means the “storage house”) was representative of such a function --at least in formal writingstowards the beginning of the 13th century (al-Geibli 1987). The Makzan remains the institution that coordinates the activities of the pal ace today. Although it is no longer dependent on extraction of resources from the periphery, the Makzan remains a central player in politics by promoting its role as reconc iler among power seekers. The Makzan has no power of its own. It gains it s influence by depicting the weaknesses of others, but, more importantly, playing them against each other. Further developments along the history of Morocco made the periphery more manageable. 1 This persistence reflects in the devoutness of Mo roccans today to their relig ious duties, especially performing a pilgrimage. I have seen people, for example, who cry when denied visas to the sacred lands.

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53 Al-Karsani, Chairman of the Political Sc ience Department at the University of Khartoum/Sudan, asserts that the Alaouite dynasty in Morocco used hydro-politics to successfully integrate the ru ral areas (PR. AAK. Spring of 2003). The center controlled the agrarian population through its strict management of irrigation dams for agriculture. It made allegiance to the king a condition to obtaining access to water resources. Sustenance was passed to the stomach of natives in the form of ‘obedience.’ By accepting the ordinance of the king, who is also the L eader of the Faithful, Believers are not being submissive; they are being good servants of Al lah. In contrast, Al-Karsani contends the rural population in Sudan could not have b een as well integrated because it simply depended on rain, in addition to the availability of land. He asserts that rain-fed areas in large part remain apolitical. The followers of sufi sheiks, such as wad-Hassouna, Abumurain, Wad al-Arbab, by far exceed the num ber of followers who belong to the two large sects --Khatmeyya and Ansar-but they are not organized. The history of Sudan therefore remains greater than to be reached by ideological Islam, and its geography is wider than to be limited to the sectaria n domain defined by the British. These are peasants who had been beyond the reach of th e state to organize and beyond the capacity of any party to organized. They had for a long time been out of the gravitational attraction of any central power be it spiritual or economic. “Capturing” these peasants remains an arduous task, and moreover a costly exercise because they own their means of production, to use Marxist terminology. More im portantly, they move in the spiritual orbit of sufi sheiks, who may not necessarily be apolitical but are cau tious in dealing with politics as it could very well diminish their au thority (because they are already marginal). Islamists amicably understood that spiritua lity (immateriality) is the access to the

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54 periphery in Sudan. However, instead of trying to reorient/synchronize the move of these many spiritual orbits, they have tried eliminati ng them in the favor of “one central orbit.” History, geography, and topogra phy may have favored Morocco in this regard, but definitely not Sudan. Tripartite of Power in Morocco The Moroccan Kingdom has developed materi al and spiritual skills by which it has overcome the periphery, but it has not completely thwarted the potenti al of its historic rivals: sheriffs, sufis, and ulama --religious scholars. In spite of its embeddedness in socio-cultural history, religious authority remains temporal in nature. That is to say, it can be influenced materially through changing poli tical, economic, and social circumstances. By adopting baraka (blessing) as the paramount criterion of power, Berber tribes span the balance of power in favor of sharifs who saw themselves as kings with an undisputed authority. The erec tion of a hierarchical auth ority of this kind defies egalitarianism as a basic logi c of any tribal institute. Bu t by elevating himself above the citizenry, the king sets himself the task of positioning his subjects against each other. For example, a preferential treatment of th e chieftain is strongly emphasized in the sociological sense but disappears completely in the political se nse. There is a protocol in saluting him, not in expressing a concern or complaining about injustice. Unlike a king, a chieftain cannot impose his vision on his subjects. He has to lis ten to be able to maintain the balance within the tribal institute, which may exist in ac tuality or metaphorically in the prevalence of conciliatory or compromi se culture. Even th ough it was legitimate to use just enough external pre ssure to maintain balance, Moroccan kings had sought the assistance of outside sources to suppress dissen t, albeit with various degrees. Indigenous

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55 populations were helpless in as far as subverting the logic of Sharifism.2 But these people used the zawya --sufi worship place-to coordinate th eir rebellion that was legitimated by the ulama The ulama considered giving allegiance to anyone other than a Muslim ruler an abrogation of religious creed. Embedded in this religious language is a political logic that sees collaboration with outsiders as marginalizing th e periphery in favor of the center. It could be a spatia l periphery meaning rural areas, or spiritual periphery indicating those sufis, sharifs, and scholars who are not co-opted by the su ltan. Inability of the sultan to serf through the wave of su fis, sharifs, and scholars can result in the authority of the former being challenged b ecause he obtains his power from them in a dialectical manner. For instance, Mulahi3 Abd al-Hafiz claimed to have sought the help of the French Protectorate to administratively modernize government institutions. He was removed by the ulama for having brought th e French into the Moroccan land, and his brother, Mulayi Yousif, who is the great-gra ndfather of the current king, was chosen in his place (Attuzi 1999). Colonialism was by then a de facto reality that Moroccans had to confront. The effort to remove the French created social and political dynamics that helped consolidate the authority of the king. Inadvertently, the French helped the ki ng get rid of three strong historical opponents, mainly sharifs, who spiritually re presented the tribal interests, sufis who provided the ethics needed to establish bonds beyond one’s primordial ties, and the ulama who were their spokesmen. By crushing tribal resistance, the French emasculated the 2 I use Sharif with a capital ‘S’ to mean the central authority that claims lineag e to the Prophet Mohamed. and similarly for Sufism and scholarly religious authority; small letters to indicate those who exercise their authority in the periphery. 3 A religious title of respect that people of northeast Africa use.

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56 ability of sharifs to launch a millenarianist campaign from the periphery. Also, they put under strict surveillance sufi sheiks they c ould not neutralize, absorb, or completely eliminate. The French Protectorate change d the institutional basis of Al-Qaraween University (most prestigious Islamic University in North Africa) to diffuse the authority of religious scholars as representatives of so cial integrity. Once th e king’s political power was completely thwarted, the French revive d his spiritual authority to maintain the internal balance of power. A lthough the sultan had no power and literally served as a consultant for General Leyouti, he was portr ayed to the public as the cornerstone of Moroccan politics. This myth --that the king is the source of salvation of the umma or nation-had its origin in the consciousness of the individual Muslim. Nonetheless, it was well woven --this time using the colonial authority. In his prize-winning book, Azzawya wal-Hazib (translates Sufi Religious Center and the Party), Azzahi asserts that elites were the local agents who helped the French Protectorate –General Loyoutiachieve his objective of wa nting to make the king the central spiritual authority who replaced a ll other authorities (Azzahi 2003). It is inconceivable that a foreign power could have succeeded in doing al l this without help from some influential national figures. So me of the early elites like Al-Fasi and Balhassan Al-wazani, found it convenient to acce ss politics from a religious door simply because they had theological credentials; more importantly, they origin ated from families and cities of special spirit ual weight. Although there were structural/historical and sociological factors that influenced their decision, they made a “rational choice” of accessing politics from a non-political door. Natio nal elites set themselves the task of pulling all strings of power a nd putting it in the king’s hands. They inflated the sanctity

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57 of the king as a sharif capabl e of overshadowing all other shar ifs. They spared no effort to become spokesmen for the King in religious circles, albeit not wit hout resistance from elderly and renowned scholars of Al-Qaraween University, such as Boushoa’ib Addakali or Balarabi Al-A’laoui. Finally, elites had to overcome sufi figures if they were to have access to a Moroccan popular basis that wa s predominantly religious, and if they eventually were to become the king’s spiritual proxies as a requisite to sharing political power with the French Protectorate. The elit es justified their sincere collaboration with the Protectorate as a political enterprise aimed at pr otecting the national interest of the country. Surprisingly, they considered the dealing of sufi figures with the colonial an act of treason. Elites used the words “protector ate” and colonialism interchangeably; they used “colonialism” when speaking about the sufis and emphasized “protectorate” in reference to themselves. Sudan’s Limited Experience with Central Authority Compared to Morocco, the politics in Suda n is off-centered both along the temporal (development) and spiritual domains (identity). Already established kingdoms in the periphery occasionally --and vol untary-gravitated to the ce nter that itself was not politically unstable. Beswick contends, The written history of present-day Northern Sudan goes back to biblical times. The Egyptians called the land Kush, and added it to their empire. For about a century, however, the princes of Kush seized Egypt itself and ruled it as the twenty-fifth dynasty. When Egypt fell under foreign ru le, the central S udanese Kingdom of Meroe (c.300 B.C.E. to 300 A.D.) preserve d the ancient tradi tion for most of a millennium. During the Middle Ages the Nubians established several new Kingdoms and adopted Christ ianity (c.300-1300 A.D.). At the dawn of the modern age in the early sixteenth century a new realm, Sinnar, was founded by a Muslim African dynasty, the Funj. (Beswick 2004:13) It is in this period (1504-1820) that Suda nese Islam gained so me of its lasting features. At the center of this Islam stood the Sufi shaykhs as archetypal figures

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58 who provided the community with its sp iritual sustenance. Besides, these shaykhs were at the center of a complex socio-ec onomic and political context and as such they owned property and exercised a degree of political influence. The shaykhs built their independent center of pow er vis--vis the state and other shaykhs This bestowed a great deal of pres tige on the Sufi institution; so much so that when the Sudanese eventually wanted to r ealize their salvation, it was only a shaykh produced by this institution who could unite them and lead them into a revolution that promised global salvation. (Mahmoud 1997:169) That shaykh was Muhammad Ahmad b. Abd A llah (1844-1884). He had some resemblance to the Wahhabist action-bound re form movement (refers to Muhammad b. Abd al-Wahhab, 1792) of Hijaz, today’s Saudi Arabia, and jihad movements of West Africa, mainly that of Usman Dan Fodio in Nigeria, in the sense he had to declare jihad against unjust rulers, who are nevertheless “Mus lims.” Also, to substantiate his claim, he had to declare them “infidels.”4 Since the British ruled S udan in cooperation with the Egyptian authority that paid allegiance to the Turkish Sultan, they operated under a religious umbrella, that of the Gr eat Muslim Caliphate in Istanbul. The Turko-Egyptian government was not in terested in colonizing Sudan, but it manipulated Sudanese politics just enough to secure access to the slave trade and ivory that passed from the southern part of the country through the north to Egypt (Holt and Daly 1988; Stephanie Beswick 2004 ). Junior officers were sta tioned in major cities that served the purpose of checkpoints more than actual military presence. Since Sudan was seen as the backyard of Egypt, it was not allocated an independent budget. Therefore administrators had to depend on their ability to extract resources from the masses. In their 4 This will prove to be a especially precarious move ment because that same tactic will be used against political dissidents by the Caliphate Abdullahi. To the extent that this tactic of religious mobilization proves successful in starting revol ution, it has some deleterious ef fects in the build ing of a polity afterwards. Surprisingly, this is the same tactic used by Islamists in eliminating their political enemies, even in modern times. The NIF regime in the early 19 90s declared opposition leaders as infidels and went to the extent of confiscating their personal belongings. This is considered legitimate against non-Muslims in the medieval theology, which echoes heavily in today’s Muslim heritage.

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59 collection of taxes, officers resorted to harsh and unjustifiable measures. For example, they demanded high taxes on agricultural crops but did not provide safety measures for peasants or delivery services. The coloni al administration had to depend on local authorities, that is, tribal chieftains/leaders and occasionally religious authorities, to collect taxes. The latter acted strategically enough so as not to subjugate their clan members and shrewdly diverted anger to ward the invaders. The introduction of disciplinary measurements through the adop tion of Sharia Laws did not protect authorities in face of the public anger that reached upheaval limits with prevailing economic depravity. Al-Mahdi traveled Sudan extensively to check its pulse and accordingly announce his revolt. Typical of all millenarian, moveme nts were popular in those days, particularly in that part of the world. He justified his m ovement as a revolt against injustice. So it was a religious revolt against an unfair political system. M ohamed Ahmed b. abd-Allah was brilliant enough to have recognized the e nvironment of depression that clouded the feelings of the Sudanese people. Since Muslims worldwide believed in a mahdi (or messiah) as the only (metaphysical or super) fo rce who could relieve th em of injustice, he called himself the “mahdi.” He may not have perfectly fitted the descriptions of the Mahdi, according to the Sunni tradition (or even believed it himself),5 but this claim helped him mobilize the spiritual and material resources needed for the revolution. It also helped overcome the authority of the periphery that was dominated by sufi sheiks. While mureeds in large part answered the neda (call), their sheiks justified their lackadaisical 5 Sayyid Sir Abd al-Rahman, posthumous son of the Great al-Mahdi, is quoted to have said that they are the descendents of Jaafar b abi-Talib, who is the cousin of the Prophet, thus he secretly discredited the claim that they are the direct descendents of the Prophet Mohamed (PBUH) (PI. AMA. Summer of 1983).

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60 response by questioning the au thenticity of mahdism. Shaykh s such as al-Amin al-Darir, Shakir al-Ghazzi, the mufti (supreme judge) of the Sudanese Appeals Council, Ahmed alAzhari, and others, resisted mahdism from a purely religious perspective (Mahmoud 1997:175). They resisted the call of millena rianism for fear of diffusing their own authority. (What was essentially a political tactic became a religious strategy, that is, spiritual salvation became an aim in and of itself rather than a tactic to diffusing the authority of the center and overcoming it at th e time of weakness.) N onetheless, the quick success of the movement --something it owes to the marvelous timing of the leader-added to their embarrassment. After all, the new leadership promised to alleviate hardship and injustice long endured by their own people. These ulama were easily discredited as an ally of the “infidel” Turko-Egyptian government. Degorge remarkably notes, The revolt that had been waged by the Mahdi was a two-fold reaction: a revolt of the fakis who were concerned with th e increased secularization and adaptability in Sufism; and a revolt against the m odernization and Westerniza tion brought on by the TurkoEgyptian administration. These two forces co mbined, although the initial fervor did not last, proved to be quite a binding force since it took military strength to overthrow them. (Degorge 2000:201) The political success of the revolution overshadowed the myth of millenarianism; nonetheless, it left the Mahdi with the burde n of authenticating his rule religiously. Although the Mahdi used mahdism or millenarian ism as a political tactic, he could not escape its religious implications. As a shaykh however exalted and influential he might be, he would after all be one among many and part of a vast and intricate web of rivalries and animosities. It was the appropriation of the position of the Mahdi (who by definition is a scholar, a sufi, and sharif) that would at one stroke place him above the en tire religious establishment and bestow upon him the required authority to exercise his role. (Mahmoud 1997:172)6 6 Hamad al-Turabi, the great-grandfather of Dr. Hassan Turabi, is said to have announced Mahdism that did not go beyond the realm of his disciples (Mahmoud 1997:173). By trying to consolidate power religiously, his grandson, Hassan al-Turabi, would commit the same mistake of announcing a grand scheme at an untimely fashion.

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61 Along with overcoming his sufi compet itors, al-Mahdi had to introduce tareeqa (spiritual discipline) to his disciples, mainly the past oralists of western S udan (the part of the country that is least dominated by Sufism). Th e pastoralists probably had more interest in war than spiritual salvation. The term faki --colloquial for faqih jurisconsult-is still used in a derogatory fashion among the Baggara (l iterally means people who herd cows, but refers in large part to the S udanese Arabs who settled in we stern Darfur, others who herd camels and who settled in northern Darfur; are called Jammala or Abbala ). The baggara not because they abhor religion but because they see religiosity more the function of urban life. On the contrary, we notice the faki is highly revered (and plays the role that a tribal chieftain plays in wester n Sudan) among settlers in the north and central part of the country. To legitimate his rule regionall y, Al-Mahdi announced himself the Muslim reformer of the century, and accordingly wr ote messages to leaders from all over the Muslim world.7 To legitimate himself nationally al-Mahdi attempted to formulate a tareeqa (spiritual order) large e nough to encompass all other tareeqas in Sudan. This tareeqa suited only the people of western Sudan and others who lacked sufi tradition: Muslims from northern and eastern Sudan went back to their own religious traditions. The keenness of sufi shaykhs to carve spiritually and physic ally independent domains for the exercise of their author ity resembles one of the ma jor plights of governance in Muslim countries. The attempt, as we shall s ee in subsequent chapters, to overcome this tendency theocratically by superimposing a gr and scheme, as in the case of Mahdism or neo-Mahdism (that is, Turabism), lead s only to further al ienation. Political 7 According to the Sunni tradition, there is a reformer, whether a scholar or politician or both, who rejuvenates the teachings of Islam at the beginning of every century Mohamed ibni abdel-wahab, the founder of the Wahabi movement, is considered by his followers in Saudi Arabia as a reformer.

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62 accommodation is possible through the proper institutional arrangement, both material and immaterial. Al-Mahdi did not live long enough to see his vision of a religiously and politically united Sudan occur. He died only six months after the liberation of Khartoum, and was succeeded by Caliphate Abd al-Allah b. Muha mmad. Al-Mahdi’s successor, Caliphate Abd al-Allah b. Muhammad, was no less charismatic than his predecessor. As a matter of fact, he is believed to have provided the milita ry tactic (by virtue of being a Baggari, of the nomadic/Arab tribes of western Sudan, he was by nature a fighter) that humiliated the British army and granted the Mahdi swift vict ory with very limited resources. He was also a prudent administrator who managed to ru le Sudan in spite of internal turbulence and external threats for almost 13 years ( 1885-1899). Nevertheless, the Caliphate lacked all three criteria that constitute the triangle of power in an Islamic context: scholarship, sufi background, and sharifi he ritage (lineage to the Prophet) The Caliphate depended on a tribal logic which weakened him further as it opened the door for fierce opposition from leaders from western Sudan -his own cons tituency to use today’s terminology. These leaders by virtue of being sultans, saw themselv es as better representatives of the nobility class, such as Ali Dinar (Su ltan of Darfur), Musa Madibbo (l eader of the Reizighat tribe, the most influential among the Baggara of we stern Sudan), Seneen al-Radi (leader of the Taaysha tribe),8 and others. In short, the Caliphate l acked the “religious” credentials that only with time and proper pol itical tactic could have uni ted major sufi movements. Regardless of what could be said about the Ca liphate’s period, he remained faithful to the 8 Although some scholars argue the term “tribe” pr omotes a myth of primiti ve African timelessness, obscuring history and change, I adopt this term to mean the outer boundaries of an extended kin-group with the aim of preserving socio-economic and political dynamics.

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63 program outlaid by the Mahdi: using a reli gious strategy in overcoming opposition. The Caliphate inherited the burden of Ansaria as the “ big tareeqa ” that he had to enforce as his only means of consolidating political pow er. He had to overcome an ethnic divide between al-Graba (derogatry term jalaba/aulad al-Bahr use in reference to people of western Sudan) and aulad al-bahr (people of northern Sudan, which includes east and north) that he had to suppress militarily to ensure continuity of his regime. For instance, Amir Yunis wad adikaim --a c ousin of the Caliphate, did not hesitate to whip anybody who passed by his left side, as serting it is the path of Satan that is preserved only for “infidels.” He is the comm ander who directed the forces of jihadia or battalion of the state against the Jaa’lyeen, a northern tribe that pr eferred to face death than allow their children and families to be humiliated or relocated for “strategic military reasons.” To justify such a cruel act, the Caliphate cabinet accused Abdallah wad saad, the leader of the Jaa’lyeen and one of the early supporters of Al-Mahdi, of collaboration with the enemy. This was the beginning of zeal ousness in the history of Sudan (Slati, Carl, Freihervon 1969). In their attempt to build a “Turabist space” that delegitimized what existed outside it, Islamists will co me the closest to resembling the Mahdist theocratic heritage. The Caliphate army, which was predominat ely occupied by forces from western Sudan, spared no effort in elimin ating a northern tribe in the 19th century. But we notice the current regime directed by northern offi cers had no reservations in carpet bombing villages in Darfur/western Sudan. Though unjustifiable, one can understand the Manichean logic the religious gurus used in declaring jihad against the pagans and Christians of southern Sudan. The attempt to forcefully build a community of believers

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64 had grievous results in the past and present of Sudan. It allowed only political cleavages to be resolved militarily, thus jeopardizing the unity of the nation by accentuating further ethnic/religious divides. It was this sectarian dictatoria l logic that old and modern theocrats used that mostly made Sudan vulnerable to invasions from outside. The failures of the Mahdist regime and its eventual removal at the hands of the Anglo-Egyptian Condominium forces in 1899 did not, however, put an end to the aura and influence of Muhammad Ahma d’s Mahdism. The legacy of that revolution still remains and plays an active role in present-day Sudan in the form of the Ansar, a religio-political organiza tion of significant presence and weight. (Mahmoud 1997:178) Al-Mahdi justified his choi ce of his successor religiously ; sometimes testifying that Caliphate Abd al-Allah was the one who came most frequently to the prayer or calling him the one most devoted to the message of the leader. But it was basically a tactical move to secure the support of the group with the major political and military weight, that of western Sudan.9 Not surprisingly this choice ex ploited the orthodox/sufi divide between the state administrators who favored a unitarian approach to the interpretation of the text and sufis who adopted a more syncretic appro ach. It deepened the ethno-religious divide between the west and the north (effect s of that struggle ar e evident in today’s Darfur conflict), thus making the political si tuation more polemic. Unlike the sufi leaders of northern Sudan who resisted the Mahdi to maintain their own influence, chieftains from the western part saw it as an opportuni ty to overcome their own tribal differences. 9 Mahmoud asserts, “Abd Allah B. Mumammad belonged to the Taaysha branch of the Baqqara of western Sudan. According to al-Zubayr Rahama (d. 1913), Abd Allah’s great-grandfath er came as a pilgrim from West Africa and then settled among the Taaysha and marri ed into them. Having been spared by al-Zubayr after falling captive in his hands, Abd Allah wrote to him telling him about a vision in which he had seen that al-Zubayr was al-Mahdi al-muntazar (the Expected Mahdi). Al-Zubayr rebuffed Abd Allah’s suggestion but this did not apparently drive the latter into despair. When Abd Allah later met Muhammad Ahmad, he immediately declared at their first meeting that he had seen in him the signs of the Expected Mahdi” (Mahmoud 1997:173).

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65 In their effort to square against one anot her, they identified opposition to the Mahdi meant as direct opposition to Islam, which justified persecution. The choice of the Caliphate subverted social aristocracy as the ve ry logic that sustaine d these chieftains. It was less the fault of the Caliphate than it was the tribal logic, and “obedience” could only be given to either sharifs, sufis, and/or sc holars. Apparently, the Caliphate did not have any of these credentials. Other leaders from the northern part of the country, such as the Great Abu-Sin (the chieftain of the Shukreya tr ibe), also refused to submit to the central government and consequently faced torture and humiliation. These grievances were compounded to such a high level to justify the cooperation among religious --and tribal-lead ers with the British forces that invaded Sudan in 1916. Ali Al-Mirghani, who is the leader of the Kh atmeyya sufi sect (that will later form the basis for the Democratic Union Party, DUP) served as an officer in the army of Kitchener. That army literally annihilated 70,000 Sudanese soldiers from the army of the Caliphate in less than an hour Although many Sudanese percei ved it as an act of treason, to a great extent, Sayyid Ali symbolized the animosity that the majority of the Sudanese, especially those of northern Sudan, had against the Taaysha tribe. This animosity was wrongfully translated to ha tred against the people of western Sudan. But more importantly, Sayyid Ali represented the grieva nces that sufis had against the “central authority.” The Caliphate’s attempt was the first in th e history of Sudan to centralize or at least attempt to overcome sufism as the centrifugal force of Islam. To the extent that dealing with the “infidel” or fo reign invaders may have been considered a violation of the creed of Islam -wala and bra, it established a historical pr ecedence that allows DUP to deal secularly or rationally w ith southerners. They are definitely more secular/rational

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66 than the heirs of the Mahdi or “Islamists,” who are rightfully th e heirs of Caliphate Abdullahi in as far as dogma is concerned. Degorge contends, Al-Mirghani’s son, Hasan (1819-1869), conti nued the work his father started. He instituted close ties with Turko-Egyp tian rule (1821-1885). This marked a move into the political arena of a major Sufi order. The tariqa (sufi order) acted as a mediator between its followers and the governmental structures in place. It collected taxes, announced decrees, and ma ny of the followers served in the armed forces. When Egypt invaded Sudan, the Khatmeyya cemented ties with the Egyptian administration, which additionall y marked the path that they would follow in the political arena: one of adapta bility and reconcilia tion. To exercise its political influence, the Khatmeyya did not advocate revolt, but worked from within the administration to accomplish what it desi red. It was adaptioni st in its political activities, and did not depart from th e intellectual foundatio ns of its founder. (Degorge 2000:200) The petal/fugal tendency materialized in the case of Sudan to some sort of sensitivity in the relationship between the Khatmeyya and the Ansar. It is worth noting that both have their basis in the periphe ry. However, the Ansar favors a spiritually centralized/ideologically distinctive approach to governance rather than a spiritually decentralized/ideologically diffusive one. Co mpared to the Khatmeyya whom Warberg describe as a more docile sufi order, the Ansa r is an Islamic revivalist movement seeking to convert Muslims through the adoption of an Islamic state (Warburg 1995: 221). “They both remained extremely powerful in the ye ars during the Condominium administration (1898-1956). Each one had their moments wher e the administration would favor them. The outcome of this jockeying was that the two orders were established as political forces with opposing viewpoints” (Degorge 2000:201). By allocating the leader of the Khatmiyya, Sayyid Ali, a huge endowment of material and political privileges, the British thought of overcoming the authority of the periphery (Mahmoud 1997). The Khatmeyya gradually became large enough to embrace and politically (not religiously) dominate other tareeqas, such as Qaderya and

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67 Sammaniyya (Degorge 2000), t hus avoiding the mistake the Mahdia made of attempting to dilute the influence of reli gious leaders. Whenever they felt their religious authority threatened, charismatic leaders, such as Asshareef Al-Hindi (who is also a sharif and, moreover, a walee ), oftentimes rose to challenge th e political authority of Khatmeyya leader. Through their command of large tareeqas, for example, the Sammaniyya who gave breed to the Mahdi, the colonial au thority thought of drying up the potential of zealous (which would translate to “terrorism” in today’s terms). Due to their highly organized and centralized makeup, the Sudanese tareeqs were the structures that enabled the Sudanese to articulate and aggregate thei r interest. The imperial experience, Degorge asserts, “Gave way to a duality or comp etition between both tareeqs --Khatmiyya and Ansar-that furnished the setting for the l oyalties of Sudanese Muslims” (Degorge 2000:204). Nonetheless, they balanced the pow er of their loyal ally, Sayyid Ali, by empowering Sayyid Abd al-Rahman (the only remaining son the Mahdi). The latter consumed the energy of his “zealous” followers cultivating huge am ounts of land that he was allocated on the island of Aba. The British gave him interest loans to build the “masjid” of wad-Noubawee, in the city of Om durman, that would la ter serve the purpose of collecting scattered Mahdia forces. Sa yyid Abd al-Rahman was grateful for the bounties that the British bestowed upon him, and accordingly adopted a principle of passive resistance. Sayyid Abd al-Rahman indulged in worldly pleasures, such as wearing fancy clothes, building palaces, a nd importing thoroughbred horses from Britain, so much so that the British thought he depart ed the ascetic ideal of his father, the Great Al-Mahdi (SBN. Personal Interview. Summer 2002). Eventually, they entrusted him with building the Umma Party of S udan (SUP) that would become a traditional front in the

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68 face of a growing protest that emerged fr om Nady al-Khiregeen (Gordon College Old Boys Club). Sayyid Abd al-Rahman tried to attract or even co-opt some elites who could give his message a modern appeal. But he nevert heless could not gather enough numbers to match those of the DUP. He had a limited pool to recruit from, because education was a privilege that the colonials extended to north ern settlers. Most of early elites were by default Khatmeyya who belonged to the sect by virtue of their socio-cultural background. People who joined Umma Party, such Al-Mahjoub, Prime Minister of Sudan (19561958), felt their weight due to the scarcity of elites in the Umma Part y. Others in the DUP were strong enough to manipulate politics, so metimes threatening to divide the party. They almost did in the case of Presiden t Ishmael al-Azhari (President of Sudan 19561958). Toward independence time (1956), th e spectrum of Sudanese politics could resemble a two-hump with Ali al-Mirghani patronizing the nati onal unionist parties and Abd al-Rahman patronizing the Umma (Nation) Party. By c ontrast, the other Sufi orders withdrew on the whole to the background and confined themselves to their religious role. What may, however, be noted about this period is that thoug h the two religious leaders were prime players on the political scene, the dominant political discourse was essentially secular. (Mahmoud 1997:179) Political pragmatism has influenced A bd al-Rahman’s decision to at least temporarily give up some of his father’s theo cratic claims that were strongly accented by the Caliphate. Abd al-Rahman was prudent e nough to have understood the impossibility of molding a society religious ly, but he worked dedicate dly toward infusing Islamic ethics. While his progeny denied the Caliphate political credit he de served, they inherited his theocratic ambitions (Slati, Carl, Freihe rvon 1969). It was during th e heat of the Cold War that Imam al-Hadi al-Mahdi found hi mself sabotaged by the Muslim Brother’s

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69 demand for an “Islamic Constitution.” In the ri se of Islamism, al-Sadig al-Mahdi found no alternative to competing with the National Islamic Front, NIF, in its pursuit of an Islamic state. It was not until he was personall y insulted and his political constituency at the expense of eliminating the Umma presen ce in Sudan. Islamists specifically targeted areas of heavy Umma presence because they felt they capitalized on a shared millenarian heritage. As we shall see in subsequent ch apters, anytime a modern ist/statist group --be it leftist or Islamists-tries to dissolve the infl uence of traditional conservative parties in the army or civil service, it risks causing an ethic/ religious rupture and/or rural/urban divide. In spite of weak politic al (and economic) links w ith the periphery, the two traditional parties, the DUP and SUP, have in the past successfully mediated ethnic differences between the Arabs ( Baggara ) and Blacks ( Zurga ) of Darfur/western Sudan. The Fuor and Masaleet now under fierce attack from the Janjaweed (Arabs who were traditionally and historically affiliated with the Mahdi movement), do not have spiritual ties with the Khatmeyya, only political links w ith the DUP that has a secular appeal and does not resist spiritual indepe ndence from the center. These indigenous African tribes of Darfur did not participate in the Mahdi movement, and they did not have strong affiliation with sufi tareeqs except maybe with the Tejhaneyya which was political dormant, at least in western Sudan. Noneth eless, during democracy periods, they gravitated politically toward the center. It has been observed that during coalition periods between the DUP and Umma, the central gove rnment tends to peacefully mitigate -though not at all times-the problems between pa storalists Arabs and peasant Africans of Darfur. It is not clear whether the two ma jor parties, DUP and SUP, at the time of independence, realized that they represent a minority of the periphery, and that it was

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70 only a historical coincidence that gave th em leadership of the political platform. However, they used political mobilization at the national level and spared religious mobilization within the domain of thei r sects (PI, AZA, Spring of 2003). Unless compelled, they refrained from an ideologica l use of Islam for the aforementioned reason and for fear of alienating the non-Muslim minority. This creates a need to push for a revitalization of a liberal Muslim heritage that respects human dignity and gives all groups their God-deserved rights. Depe nding on the circumstances, the petal/fugal tendency --discussed extensively in this chapte r-can cause an ideological tension (see Chapter 4). That is to say, rather than a c ontinuum of thoughts, a c ountry can experience a rigidity/flexibility duality in the interpre tation of the text (see Chapter 5). Without careful management, this can cause stagnation, as in the case of Morocc o, or agitation, as in the case of Sudan. This gives rise to a hi erarchy/rebellion procli vity (see Chapter 6), which has become evident in th e two countries’ long civil wars. In conclusion, the two colonial powers (the British and the French) appropriated the concept of sharifism differently. While the British maintained balance by introducing sectarianism in Sudan, the French Protectorat e had no alternative to presenting the King of Morocco as a unified central authority, t hus fusing sharifism, su fism, and scholarship in the figure of the sultan. The religious gr oups mainly incorporated in the Sudanese political system, the Khatmeyya and the Ansar --which are led by Sharif s-gave rise to the two major political parties. The Umma Party of Sudan (SUP ) consisted of pastoralists located at the western and centr al part of the country who drifted toward the political center at the time of the Mahdia (1885-1899). The DUP represented sedentary peasants who lived at the northern and eastern parts of the country, and who escaped control in

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71 those days by pulling their feet toward the pe riphery. Whereas traditi onal leaders resorted to sectarian platforms in the name of demo cracy, modernist leaders sought refuge in the military in the name of revolution. The discon tinuity created by the move from dictatorial regimes to democratic systems and back interrupted the ability of patrimonial leaders to fix the social hierarchy needed to overcom e the power of the periphery. By trying to bypass traditional leaders, such as tribal chieft ains/leaders, religious or sectarian leaders eluded the very logic that sustained them. As a result, the religio-pol itical power in Sudan became more diffuse. Islamists tried, though unsuccessfully, to overcome this difficulty by promising to rebuild the Sudanese social fabric using their reli gious appeal and an unlimited access to monetary funds. Although they succeeded in weakening sectarian basis materially, they could not overcome th e long heritage of “obedience” that was deeply ingrained in the Muslim psyche. Piety that manifested itself materially could not replace “antiquity,” no ma tter how hard it tried. While the British used sectarianism as a st rategy to rule the Sudan, the French used sultanism to facilitate administering the Mo roccan society. The latt er capitalized on a 12 century heritage to create a central author ity that it can manipulate from behind the curtain. The French Protectorate helped the king get rid of three strong historical opponents: sharifs who spiritually represented th e tribal interest; Sufis, who provided the ethics needed to establish bonds beyond one’s pr imordial ties; and scholars (ulama), who were their spokesmen. By crushi ng tribal resistance, the French emasculated the ability of sharifs to launch a millenarian ist campaign from the peripher y. Also, they put under strict surveillance sufi sheiks they could not neutra lize, absorb, or completely eliminate. Once the king’s political power was completely thwarted, the French revived his spiritual

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72 authority to maintain the internal balan ce of power. Although the sultan had no power and literally served as a consultant for Gene ral Leyouti, he was portrayed to the public as the cornerstone of Moroccan politics. National el ites had to overcome sufi figures -if they were to have access to Moroccan popular basi sthat were predominantly religious and eventually become the King’s spiritual proxie s as a requisite to sharing political power with the Protectorate. They justified their sincere collaboration with the Protectorate as a political enterprise aimed at protecting the na tional interest of the country and ruled the dealing of sufi figures --one that was limite d to protecting followers or securing their needs-with the colonial as an act of treason. By defaming sufism elites weakened their own basis of popularity and thus set themselv es for the political unseen. Surprisingly or not, they woke up to find themselves du mmies in the king “blessed hands.” After independence, Mohamed IV came out as th e first Moroccan king with undisputed temporal and spiritual authority, thus allo wing for future challenges to be contained religiously.

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73 CHAPTER 4 SPECTRUM OF INTERPRETATIONS AND SOCIO-POLITICAL PHILOSOPHY Because the Islamic tradition is so heavily dependent on what was being written in the Qur’an and the Hadiths, it is no surprise th at education has been a vital issue in these societies. Those controlling th e curriculum could also assure themselves of a stronger grasp of the determinants of regime legitimac y. In modern times, such as the times since colonialism, the educational issue has centered on how to combine the literal and the liberal traditions. How far have Islamic leader s been willing to be pragmatic and adjust their own thinking to suit the changing circum stances that British and French colonialism brought to Sudan and Morocco, respectively. This chapter briefly traces the early struggles over curriculum in the pre-colonial days before proceeding to examine the way education and political socializ ation has been handled in col onial and post-colonial days. It concludes with a discussion of what my own research sugges ts are the current issues of greatest significance in these c ountries and how these issues compare to trends elsewhere in the Islamic world. The colonial experience, its benefits notwithstanding, has made Islamic theology more dogmatic by causing a dichotomy between what is spiritual and what is temporal, between reason and revelation, and hence betw een “god’s city” and the imagination of humans who are entrusted with overseeing the various processes of execution. The outcome has been an ontological gap that caused only minor cracks --that was later patched by post-colonial state builders-in the city walls that for centuries fortified religious fantasies and political fanatici sm. Not surprisingly, Islamic fundamentalism

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74 finds comfortable accommodation in regimes that are secular at heart and use religion for legitimation purposes, what I call “quasi-secular regimes” such as Morocco and Saudi Arabia, or “quasi-theocratic re gimes” that are theocratic at heart and only use pluralism for legitimation purpose such as Sudan and Ira n. The complete lack of effort to do away with religious dogma --on the contrary infusing it-or depart the route of theology (with all its deadlocks) has become evident in the psychological rift betw een the individual and his innerself,1 and between the society’s aspiration and state’s directions --understandably the low esteemness of the society denies th e state leverage in bargaining with the international community. This chapter addresses the structural (economic/cultural)2 factors that influenced the development of Islamic orthodoxy in the 11th century and helped with its promotion until the advent of colonialism in the 19th century. At that time, it was given the status of law codified by the state for the purpose of i nducing political stabilit y. What appeared for centuries as the cultural preference of the Caliphate was now given the authority of an “authentic” Islam, which was e xploited politically by Islamist s, which invited a reaction from seculars. The political polarization --b etween the left and the right, between the seculars and the theocrats, between the liberalis t and the literalist-is only ideological. It is a dispute about shar ed characteristics and not different characteristics. Also, considering themselves “advanced” and di smissing Sufis as “sectarian” and “backwarded” is more a propaganda ploy that se rved no purpose other than superficially assisting elites to elevate themselves above social reality. 1 This is a result of the society’s pressure for co nformity and the individual longing for abstractness. 2 The political factors are addressed extensively in Chapter Three.

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75 The cultural and sociological factors that influenced the practi ce of politics in the Moroccan (and Sudanese) society were woven into a collective memory that did not recognize a separation between re ligion and politics. In the midst of this ideological quarrel, modernists --elites from the left or right side of the ideol ogical spectrum-failed to engage the local heritage by way of edu cating it. They were more interested in expressing their views than harkening to the wi sdom of the masses. This attitude thwarted their ability to communicate eff ectively with the masses. Unde r the pressure to influence change, elites embraced techniques that were correctly perceived by the masses as an attempt to unseat their traditional leaders. Such opportunism made the society resilient and its culture more stagnant. (Elites in th e African/Muslim world, as we shall see in subsequent sections, were more a liability than an asset.) Elite preferences were reflected in their ch oice of educational policies that confused education with indoctrination. While occasionally introducing some adjustments, they made no effort to do away with dogma. As it stands today, religion and secular sciences stand side by side with no correspondence that can help the elites or the masses perceive as beneficial a mutual relationship between th e two. The first part of this chapter traces the development of a religious tradition th at until today has a strong hold on Muslim minds. The second part explains how modernity has challenged the grip of such tradition but has not provided Muslims with conceptual tools that can help them adjust to such huge transition --one that requires that one cr eates the world in one’s own image and not just accept it as is. Thus m odernization has denied Muslims the liberties it delivered to European populations.3 The third part reveals the tendencies that developed among 3 Modernization in the 19th century, and still more in the 20th century, far from reducing autocracy, substantially increased it. Lewis asserts, “On the one hand, modern technology, communications, and

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76 contemporary Muslim thinkers, as a result of hi storical and political tensions that for the first time signal an indigenous attempt to reconcile modern epistemological views with a classical cultural religious tr adition (Filali -Ansary 2003:6). In Chapter 2, I alluded to the political ci rcumstances that made favorable the choice of the traditionalist sc hool over the rationa list school in the 11th century. The former innovated a dichotomy between Sharia know ledge, which it strategically called beneficial knowledge ( alm nafah ), and sciences, which it referred to as worldly knowledge ( alm dunyawi ). Embedded in this distinction was an attempt to psychologically rebuff external influence and politically suppre ss internal dissent. Understandably, the more Muslims got exposed, the more empowered they became in challenging the truth, as was propagated by the political authority. The meager the realm of irony/imagination, the easier it was for one group to promote its understanding of religion as religion. The reader may find it difficult to understand how one approach to knowledge would prevail uninterru pted through almost 10 centuri es, in spite of political, economic, and social turbulences, but not if we understand the peda gogical approach that got introduced at this turn in history. This approach emphasized obedience of the pupil to the master and gave pride in memoriza tion of knowledge as was passed by ones honorable masters.4 The master of your master becomes your grandfather in weaponry greatly reinforced the rulers powers of surv eillance, indoctrination, and repression. On the other hand, social and economic modernization enfeebled or abrogated the religious constraints and intermediate powers that had in various ways limited earlier autocr acies. No Arab Caliph or Turkish Sultan of the past could ever have achieved the arbitrary and pervasive power wielded by even the pettiest of present-day dictators (Lewis 1993:96). 4 Huff contends, It should be noted that instruction in the madrasas was a totally personalistic experience. The student came to the master and learned what he taught. The master in turn certified the student by

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77 knowledge, something that is considered more valuable than blood kinship. To the extent that this pedagogical approach --individual exchange between mast er and student-has preserved the authenticity of the text, some scholars like Nursi Said of Turkey, think it has inhibited the permutati on of Islamic knowledge as the only means through which ideas can transcend their historic context (Eickleman 1999: 2). The authority of the master and th e tradition was affirmed through the establishment of Islamic colleges – madrasas -in the 11th century. These institutions were religious trusts that strictly taught Qur’an, th e traditions of the Prophet, Arabic grammar, Arab genealogy, poetry, and some arithmetic for the purpose of dividing inheritances. Although they were protected from political intrusions, the madrasas were not legally autonomous entities. “Rather, as strictly reli gious charities, they were perpetually bound to the strictures and limitations speci fied in the founding document creating the educational trust ( waqf ). No alterations in the purpose of the trust, or the subjects of study was permissible. In a legal sense, they cr eated a true ‘dead hand’” (Huff 1997: 31). There was no faculty to assess the curriculu m and make adjustments according to the need of the time, only a group of indivi duals, each entrusted with issuing an ijaza (permission to transmit) in his own field. This is not to question th e credentials of the masters who in most cases were renowned schol ars, or the pupils who tolerated a strict training method --almost to the point of bei ng authoritarian. It was emphasize the Muslim educational system as the master institution in the perpetuation of Islamic tradition and the creation of Islamic society as we know it today (Geertz 1965: 95). giving him an ijaza, a ‘permission to transmit’ the texts and material s that the student had committed to memory” (Huff 1997: 31).

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78 For as long as the Silk Road existed, wh ich to a great extended manipulated world trade for centuries (Ferguson 2000), Muslims pa id their pious endowments in the form of educational trust ( madrasas ), which “could not encompass the teaching of anything inimical to the spirit of Islam” (Huff 1997: 31). This proved the most difficult hurdle, as the world was about to witness one of the great est intellectual revolutions ever made. It is at the 15th century that Europeans found the transa tlantic as an alternative trade route with which they could access the Americas. They increased their gold endowment by 800 hundred percent in less than a century, wh ich propelled the industrial revolution, endowed the Europeans with weaponry and en ticed their appetite for wealth (Ferguson 2000). Hence, the rise of capitalism/im perialism that necessitated functional differentiation as a way to establishing an efficiently managed operation guarded by a legal rational system (Weber 1983). “For it was those legal developments that created the possibility of a public sphere and paved the way for the institu tional breakthrough to early modern science.” Although religious author ities of the medieval Church could have contributed to the emergence of an “ins titutionally autonomous domain of discourse” (Huff 1997: 32), it is inconceivable that “legal autonomy embedded in the law of corporations” could have been possible prior to the rise of capitalism. Huff nevertheless explains the failure of Muslims to benefit from their intellectual rich endowment by their inability to curb an educational ins titution as a “legally autonomous entity.” 5 Huff asserts, “The success of scientific developmen t leading to what we call ‘modern science’ occurred uniquely in the West despite the fact that Arabic science was the most advanced 5 Unlike the Islamic madrasas that kept the natural sciences out, and the Chinese bureaucracy that rejected the study of anything that could be called scientific, Huff contends, “The European universities put the study of nature first in an institutional structure th at was in effect legally autonomous” (Huff 1997: 33).

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79 science in the world from roughly the 8th to the 13th century, while China’s technological base was superior to that of the West up until the 15th or 16th century, and its science was second to that of the Arabs” (Huff 1997: 26). As distinguishe d a historian as he is, Huff overlooks the chronology of events. He also pursues a cultural argument while ignoring economic, political, and administrative developm ents that led to the rise of Western civilization. No one disputes that individuality --a quality celebrated in the Greek heritage and one that later resembled the founding pi llar in western democracy-which was as cherished in any place in the world as in the West. Nonetheless, scholars entertain multiple perspectives in the understanding of th is de facto reality. For instance, why is it that Muslims who translated the Greek herita ge failed to benefit from it? Why did they instead embrace the Persian heritage that stab ilized the political syst em at the cost of aborting individuality, the very qua lity that for centuries rested dear to the hearts of the community members (Al-jabri 2001)? In case of Islam, it was less a problem of one authority imposing itself over others than the existence of the scientific, moral/re ligious, and political domains independent of one another (see Chapter 2) that denied Mus lims the transition “from the closed world to the infinite universe,” to borrow Koyre’s ph rase (Huff 1997). Rather than adjust their strategy to meet the demands of an ever-changing reality, jurists adopted a “jurisprudential definition of religion” that shunned sharia from the developments in other fields. They have wasted an opportunity to coordinate --t hat is, if they ever had an option6-the relationship between the aforemen tioned authorities (who will become historical rivals). They have also failed to allow for the discoveries in one field to 6 The agency, in this case the jurists, were bound by huge structural factors that I allude to in chapter 2.

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80 enhance the understanding in the other, ther eby thwarting the ability of the Muslim community to evolve beyond the confinement of religiosity and hove r into the realm of spirituality. Sharia eventually recessed in to being God’s law, instead of a legal mechanism. With such essentialism in mind, Muslims felt compelled to define themselves in opposition to “the other” rather than mobilize the cons tituents of their own heritage to venture into wider realms. This was contrary to the et hos of the founders of the faith who pursued a universalistic vision, no netheless in face of prevalent injustice, they occasionally felt compelled to bear on particularities (Fila li-Ansary 2003). Hodgson, the great British historian, asserts, “It was pr ecisely what was univers al in the vision of Islam, its hope of equal justice and of a human responsibility under transcendent norms that issued in the exclusivity of Islam. The very response to the vision which allowed that vision to be embodied in a living tradition, a nd the responsible commitment which then carried it forward in actual society, were what closed Islam off from rival values and rival traditions” (Hodgson 1977: 369). This explains the obsession of some Muslims with concepts that have almost become obsolet e. Nonetheless, they may not have been completely siphoned off the Muslim frame of re ference, such as the distinction medieval jurists make between the land of Mu slims and that of “infidels” ( dar-al-Harb and dar-alIslam ), or the term dhimi (used in reference to Christians or Jews living among a predominantly Muslim majority). Rashid Ghouni shi considers this a ju rist term that has lost its political implication in associati ons where people no longer live as a “community of believers” but “citizens of a nation state” (Ghounishi 198 1). It is difficult but not impossible to overcome these concepts, especially in a society that voluntarily chooses to abide by the Sharia. Because, as Hodgson correct ly asserts, “The exclusivity latent in the

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81 Qur’an was early complemented by an exclus ivity grounded in the historical Muslim community. In the reaction that followed the third fitnah and the “Abbasi triumph, this communal orientation of this Shari spirit was explicitly emphasized: that is loyalty to the community of Muslim allegiance, even at the expense of any other value” (Hodgson 1977: 370).7 It is pointless to speak about Human Rights without paying attention to these issues that are deeply embedded in the Musl im heritage. For almost five decades, the Arab world watched the slaughter of non-Musl im natives in southern Sudan without any remorse as if it was a religious conquest. It was not until the Sunni Muslims of Darfur got attacked by the autocratic regime in Khart oum in 2001 that they started perceiving as legitimate the grievances of th e rural populations that were manipulated by the center in Khartoum. In spite of the firm teleological grip, Muslims continued to perch on the forward edge of one of the highest intellectual end eavors, only to be inherited by Europeans who would take to it unprecedented limits that changed for good and forever the conditions of human correspondence, at the economic, political and social levels. Most significant was the opening up of the public sphere whose activ ities were for a long time enjoyed by the privileged. “Jurgen Habermas defined the publ ic sphere as a social space in which socalled ‘private’ individuals come together for the purpose of using thei r critical faculties 7 Hodgson asserts, “Among Christian or Buddhist people s, religion has indeed been very central also. But it has informed the culture of Christian Occidentals an d of Christian Abyssinian s, for instance, almost entirely in isolation from each other, so that there is no single ci vilization associated with Buddhism. But – despite the vaster areas covered development any culture of their own at all, never lost contact with each other: their cultural dialogues were always intermeshe d. The bonds of Islamic fa ith, indeed especially the irrepressible transcendent ideals implied in the root meaning of Islam, with their insistent demand for a godly transformation of all life, have been so telling in certain crucial aspects of the high culture of almost all Muslim peoples that we find ourselves grouping these peoples together across all their different regions, even apart from considering other facets of high cu lture. Islam offered creative impulses that ramified widely throughout the culture as a whole, even where it was least regions” (Hodgson 1977: 94).

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82 in the service of so-called ‘public’ intere sts” (Huff 1997: 27). Does Habermas condition the engagement in the public sphere on i ndividualism and secularism? Should he treat individualism and secularism as “epiphenomal products of bourgeois self-interest”? Does Habermas ignore the role religion plays in the emergence of a public sphere in a different cultural context? Since both are important criteria for our evaluation of institutional design and educational policies in the Muslim world, I will first discuss the issue of individualism as a direct breed of capita lism. I will later address concerns about secularism. Capitalism could have only been possible due to the bifurcation of scripturalism and materialism in the late 15th century. The unlimited accumulation of wealth in Europe could not have been perceived with guilt wi thout departing the ascetic ideals of the Protestant Ethic, as explained by Weber (1983) That, coupled with sc ientific rationality defined in opposition to the doctrinal unders tanding of society, paved the way for the philosophical rooting of seculari sm and liberalism in the late 16th century. After the French Revolution in 1789, the bourgeoisi e undermined the political and social institutions on which feudalism was based. Si nce the Church allied with the losing partner, the feudal lords, it inevitably lost any role it could have pl ayed to influence the course of public life. Thus, the separation of religion and politics was circumstantial, albeit acute in the case of France. The Br itish had a different experience with religion. The separation between religion and politic s was consonant with Christian theology, which philosophized that while Crown and Ch urch are distinct in function, they are inseparable in substance (Badie and Bi nbaum 1983). The cultural influence of Protestantism helped build a political system that was organically li nked to religion with

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83 the monarch being the most senior authorit y in the British political system, at least figuratively, as well as the head of the Evangelical Church. Among the more prominent causes of this hi storical trend is the interference of various European powers, of which France and Great Britain are good examples, in the Islamic cultural spheres, by wa y of colonialism, in the New Imperialist era of the late 19th Century. There were philosophical as well as practical reasons th at influenced the distinct ways by which both the French and the Britis h administered their colonies. Given the relatively limited size of its empire the French afforded conversion as an efficient mean of exploitation; the British depended on do mination, which was facilitated through the loyalty of indigenous leaders. Since the French were naturally distrustful of Islamic piety in the public sphere, they allocated religion no space --needless to say authority-in their design of public education. For example, the French Protectorate shut down any suggestion by national cooperatives to include the teachings of Arabic or the Qur’an in the educational curriculum in Morocco (Pers onal Interview. OJ. Fall of 2003). In addition to the philosophical posi tion that was antithetical to re ligion, the French had a political objective. By denying theists/th eologians access to power, w ealth, and secular education, the colonial administration hoped to diffuse the authority of the periphery that traditionally and historically fueled resistance to the intrusive authority of the invaders (Kedourie 1966: 38). This cont radicts the conventional wisdom of modernist forces -either Islamists or seculars-who for instrume ntal reasons accused Sufi sheiks of being collaborators with the colonials. Aside from a minority that was co-opted, Sufis represented a bulwark in the face of colonia lism until they were gradually and completely disenfranchised. As theistic scholars became le ss equipped to deal with the perplexity of

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84 modernity, they were replaced by a new breed of elites who in their own right wanted to impose the views they inherited fr om Europe (France or Britain).8 In the wake of independence, most conser vative forces sided with the King of Morocco in the face of totalita rian and fanatic secularism that was coming from the Left. For instrumental logic that we shall see in subsequent sections, m odernist groups of the center right particularly avoided salafism of the Maghreb, and they instead adopted the values of the Mashreg ( Egypt, Iraq, or Saudi Arabi). The salafi movement in the Maghreb capitalized on an amalgamation of varieg ate Sufi orders which were themselves an adaptation of local cultura l heritage. In that sense, it was different from the salafi doctrine in the Mashreq, which claims to have maintained Islam pure of cultural infiltration or innovation. Even when some scholars found the will to include Sufism as an important cultural constituent from a purel y academic position, they could not find the way. A renowned Moroccan scholar and an Islamic activist admits he could not incorporate any Sufi teachings not even from a critical standpoint in the curriculum that he helped design for the first Islamic depa rtment at the University of Mohamed IV at Rabat. He says the establishment of the department was so much resisted by the administrators --who were mostly leftistthat he sought finance from the Saudi government, which stipulated the exclusion of any Sufi teachings (Personal Interview. MB. Summer 2003). Therefore, we notice the educational policy advocated by the modernists were not less alienating for the Moroccan (or the Sudanese) than the colonial policies. 8 Hourani asserts, “The development of Arabic soci al and political thought in modern times offered a special interest but presented special difficulties. It involved tracing two lines of influence: one which ran from medieval Islamic thought to the modern age, and the other which came from outside the Arab and Muslim world, from western Europe and in particular from England and France” (Hourani 1981: xiv).

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85 Rather than aim at completely thwarting the authority of the periphery, the British created a hierarchy that facil itated the flow of ad ministrative directives, as well as giving them enough discretion to manipul ate the political platform (s ee Chapter 3). In Sudan, the British also felt threatened by Sufi Islam, which provided the yeast to most of the millenarian movements, such as Sudan, Egypt, and India. They nonetheless felt compelled to include just enough Islam to li nk the public to the indigenous leaders and link the latter to state author ity. Accordingly, students were allowed to spend the first three years of their primary education in Qur’anic schools ( katateeb ), which provided them with solid education in Qur’an and Hadith. These schools gave them moral upbringing through their one-onone interaction with the sheik, who in most cases belonged to one of the Sufi tareegs (Personal Interview. DH. Spring of 2004). Therefore, an important merit of the British system is that it provided a link between the student’s traditional habitat and his soon-to-be modern environment, between Sufi Islam of the periphery and orthodox Islam of the city. This link was lost with the standardization of formal education that required the enrollment of students to the school from grade one, as happened after independence. The decision by Sudanese national leaders (Arab nationalists in the late 1960s, and socialists/communist s in the 1970s) to eliminate Qu r’anic schools --from being an integral part of the educa tional system-marks a significan t disjuncture between popular and high cultures. A prominent educator, who was once a Minister of Education and at one time belonged to Islamists groups, asserts th at the education at the time of the British was generally better because it produced highly cultured a nd well-rounded individuals (Personal Interview. DH. Spring of 2003). Furthe rmore, from an Islamic perspective, it

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86 was more profound than the scholastic Isla m introduced by the current regime (19892005) because the former taught general Isla mic principles rather than impose one particular ideological orientation (Per sonal Interview. DH. Spring of 2003). Most of the early national leaders of Suda n, regardless of their secular approach to governance, were literate in Islamic studies mainly the Qur’an and Arabic language. More importantly, they had a sensitive look to th e Sudanese culture, at least as it pertains to northern Sudan. This may explain their conservative approach to governance. For instance, President Mohamed A. Mahjoub, who led a coalition of trad itional parties (of mainly Sufi background) in the 1960s, esta blished Omdurman Islamic University. He made no attempt to influence the curriculum, recruiting criteria, or even claim it as a political achievement. Ironically, it eventu ally developed into one of the breeding grounds of Islamists who adamantly resist the inclusion of local he ritage regardless of how profound that may be. A renowned Sufi sheik and a distinguished Sudanese professor, who was once the President of Om durman Islamic University, contends that staff members do not tolerate even the mention of Sufism --“they would rather listen to the barking of a dog than to the praise ( madh ) of the Prophet” (Personal Interview. AG. Summer 2003). Typically Islamists blamed Sufism for th e intellectual and political decadence that Muslims reached at the time of colonialism, and accused Sufis sheiks as being collaborators with th e invaders and dictators. It is important to understand the circumstances which led to such accusati ons. In most cases, they found collaboration with the authorities as the only available tool to deflect harm from reaching their followers. Sufism was not a bulwark in th e face of development as it was one among

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87 many organs in a body inflicted with despotism. But it was definitely a strong fortress against the hegemonic forces of coloni alism. Azzahi asserts that a Salafi fagih (scholar) may dismiss a Sufi dance as innovation in the deen (religion), but a sociologist cannot. It is by listening, danci ng, and, most importantl y, invocating the name of Allah that sufi sheiks unite the body and the soul and entrench its equi valence in the intellectual unconscious (Azzahi 2003:138-139). This ritual makes a person’s cultural, social, and religious existence become real in a non-confrontational manne r. It attempts to address the zoug –taste-as well as the mind.9 Most contemporary Islamists (scholars who study Islam, be it Muslims or nonMuslims) contend that sufi Islam is th e mode most qualified in resisting the encroachment of imperialism --as it had done with colonialism. A renowned Moroccan scholar and an Islamic activist f ound it fair to admit that he resisted Sufism for 30 years, only to recently come to recognition of its vita lity in resisting the institutional forces both local and international that are trying to erode the richness of the Muslim heritage. He now recommends listening to madeeh (praise poems of the Prophet introduced with instrumental music), and watching and participat ing in sufi festivals (Personal Interview. MB. Summer 2003). Salafi groups in Sudan spen t almost four decades trying to convince the masses that instrumental music is prohibi ted in Islam. Sheik Abd al-Raheem Al-Burai introduced Islamic teachings in the very symphony that Sudanese enjoyed. His madeeh -songs including praise of the Prophet and enhancing morality-dominated the public 9 The President of Malaysia is believed to have s uggested that Muslim countries reduce their military budget to only one percent, and instead direct it to educational services. He wants to give the world hyper power no excuse to force. Mernissi correctly asserts, “The supremacy of the West is not so much due to its military hardware as to the fact that its military base s are laboratories and its tr oops are brains, armies of researchers and engineers . power comes from the cu ltivation of the scientific spirit and participatory democracy” (Mernissi 1992: 43, 44).

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88 arena from the beginning of the 1980s until now. With limited resources, this genius succeeded in what the state failed to achieve with omnipotent presence. While ideological Islam fit the modernist ideology that attempts to increase visibility of the society --thereby making its members more manageable-Sufi Islam encourages diffusiveness in t hought and practice. Hence, it al lows the individual room to reshape the moral boundary w ithout having to transgress against the community or compromise his own individuality. By capit alizing on the good qualities that every disciple possesses one way or the other, the Sufi sheik allows the mureed to voluntary get rid of the negative aspects.10 A prominent sufi sheik, AG, asserts that Sufism puts the individual through spiritual training to ultim ately liberate him/her from anything but the love of Allah (Personal Interview. AG. Fall of 2003). This concept of freedom is different from positive freedom, as defined by Western phi losophers, or, for this matter, negative freedom as ill-conceived by Islamists. Western philosphers put emphasis on rights, Islamists bear more attention to duties.11 The sufi regard to the moral code is a way of fulfilling the covenant with Allah and not watching out for the morality, as defined by society and/or enforced by the police.12 To take an example, the word ayeb (morally 10 “We have communal actions and rituals, but not comm unal faiths. Expressions of faith are public but the essence of faith is mysterious and private . True faith is contingent upon individuality and liberty. Their decline is tantamount to the decline of faith, just as their rise amounts to the rise of faith” (Soroush 2000: 140,141). 11 The adamancy of the current Sudanese state to push morals politically has caused a moral decline unprecedented in the hi story of the nation. A report of international humanitari an agency --that was not made public-include a 400 percent increase in the number of children born out of wedlock (Personal Interview. SM. Spring of 2003). Outraged by this social tragedy, a businessman who I interviewed said that “at the time of the British when Sudan had open bars and licensed prostitutes, the public had a better public (and private) morality than today” (Per sonal Interview. SA. Spring of 2003). 12 A distinguished member of the Istiglal Party (mid of spectrum Moro ccan politics) says unlike Islamists (Justice and Development Party, right of spectrum) they do not judge the individual, that is, party member, by his personal conduct, only by his creed. She thinks a person can become morally upright at anytime provided he has the right c onviction (Personal Inte rview. NK. Fall of 2 003). She said this in reaction to an accusation of a member in the Justice and Developmen t Party that they do not care anymore about the

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89 scornful in Arabic) has a d eeper psychological effect than haram (prohibited) in making the individual morally cons cientious of his moral res ponsibility to the “other.”13 It is a divine rule interceded by the society’s c onception of morality that is deliberative, adaptive, and which follows an evolutionary learning path. Such philosophy characterizes the sufi approach to moral upbringing ( tarbeya ) and reveals the secret of its success. Unlike Islamists who use (scientific) rationality to distinguish themselves and thus gain a superior status, Sufis are more egalitarian and use communicative rationality to allow room for cohesiveness. In their debate with the Sufis, Islamists are very “rational”; in their contestation with the seculars (sociali st/communists), they ar e very “moral.” The more gimmicks they attempt, the more obvi ous their political in tricacies become. I may not have adequately answered the questions about individualism and secularism within the capitalis t tradition, nonetheless this sec tion is aimed at highlighting the distinction between “structural” a nd “subjective” secularization. Structural secularism, applies to the institutional arrangements of society and subjective secularism to the subjective experience of seculari zing forces by individuals (Robinson 2003). Structural secularism, defined as the “inst itutional separation of c hurch and state,” may have been the midwife who he lped with the birth of subjective secularism. But it is definitely capitalism, functional different iation, and more recently mass communication that helped with the conception of such ch ild in the European continent. (Forcing the personal conduct of their members. Most Islamists pa rties started with such a conviction, soon as they reached the populist level, that is, their parties in number, they could not afford to follo w with the moral upbringing of their party membership. 13 Personal Interview with a prominent sufi sheik, wh o was also the President of Omdurman University for Islamic studies (Personal Interview. AG. Spring of 2003).

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90 birth of such child in the Muslim world ha s caused the death of both the mother and the child. It is a child born out of wedl ock at best and abortion at worst.) Traditional Leaders in Modern Clothes In spite of persistent attemp ts to block sufi heritage, Sufism continues to shape the cultural, social, and intellectual unconscious of most of these Muslim societies. By omitting Sufism from formal educational curricula in North Africa, modernist groups have not benefited from its richness, and they are not exempt from the ills that such resentment created. Elites were unconscious ly maneuvering in a socio-cultural sphere that treated the “leader” as a sheik whose basera (vision) provides guidance in gloomy circumstances. His ideology is the tareega (spiritual discipline) that maintains harmony and discipline among part members. The party is the zawya (platform) from which the sheik dissipates his blessed teachings (Azzahi 2003:233). In his prize-winning book, Az-zawia Wal-Hazib ,14 Azzahi, a Moroccan sociologist, asserts that A’lal Al-Fasi of Morocco (the national leader of Mo rocco in the 1950s) was revered by the masses as a religious leader. Hi s vision inspired the nation to stand by the king thereby connecting to its history, more so its spiritual her itage (Azzahi 2003). A’lal Al-Fasi announced from Cairo the beginning of a military revolt led by the masses as soon as King Mohamed IV was sent into exile by the colonial au thority in 1952, thereby wasting an opportunity for the French Protec torate to drive a we dge between elites and the Makzn. He made a political gamble by s upporting the king at a time when the king was mostly weakened, which Mohamed IV wo n because rather than following the wish of the Protectorate, the king decided to sta nd by his people. Al-Fasi displayed a “mystical 14 Zawya is the Sufi religious center; Hazib is the party.

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91 quality” of being able to pred ict political events. He thus was both a sound sheik and a loyal disciple. Whereas he coul d have used his popularity to replace the king, A’lal knew that the king capitalized on a heritage that went beyond his te mporal existence, one that extended 1, 200 years into the history of the nation (see Chapter 3 for details). Al-Fasi used his political skills and religious credentials to establish himself as the undisputed leader of the Is tiglal Party, which monopolized Moroccan politics long before it was challenged by the Soci alist Union. He overcame th e challenge Bal-Hassan Alwazani once presented for the chairmanshi p. Even though the latt er was assigned the vice-chairmanship, Al-wazani chose to leave an d establish his own party. These were not simply two-party members competing for an administrative position. They were two religio-political figures competing for the sheikdom of a worship place ( zawya ) called Istiglal Party (Hizb Al-Istiglal). They did not stand for themselves, but also represented two renowned Fasi families, and they shined as beacons for their societal groups. Similar to the Moroccan saying, ‘Two snakes cannot reign in one den,” the defeat of one meant the departure of the other.15 It was only logical to do so because it is by a strict following of the instructions of the leader ( Aza’eim ) that the party remains intact. Any dispute of his orders violates the social logi c that governs the political dyna mics in the party and in the nation as a whole. The lively presence of the characteristics of the zawya in a national party makes it difficult for a leader to be challenged, or be excused from his position in their lifetime. This patrimonialism applies to religious as well as non-relig ious parties. Looking at the 15 Abdel-Salaam Yasin, who for a long time was a member of the botsheshya tareega, is said to have left it when the followers refused to make him the sheik, and instead chose the sheik’s son after his father’s death. He now has his own party and accepts no di spute of any of the party members.

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92 political landscape in Sudan, you cannot point to a party that succeeded democratically in removing its leader, not even the Communist Part y. It is a problem if a leader is alive; it is a curse if he is dead. The death of a lead er resembles a tragedy for some parties. For example, 20 years after the death of its le ader, Sharief Hussein Al-Hindi, the DUP in Sudan looks like an orphanage whose inhabitant s still suffer from the death of a fatherly figure. Al-Hindi is by far the noblest sh arief who has walked over the Sudanese landscape. He had the political asceticism of Al-Hassan and the warrior courage of AlHousein --the two sons of Imam Ali. However, it is not the magnanimity of his character: generosity, tolerance, sincerity, political strategies, intellectual shrewdness. 16 None of those characteristics were qualities that the lineage to the Prophet ( Sharifism ) immaterially manifested. But they were s upernatural qualities th at he genetically inherited from his father and ancestors w ho supposedly kept the party united and its manifesto appealing to the public. More than one follower, most of them educated individuals, reiterated th at Al-Housein was magically convincing and capable of foretelling. Some say that he physically met with Great Grandfather, the Prophet Mohamed, before his death (Personal Intervie w. SA. Fall of 2003). The followers insisted ascribing these qualities to him, even though he consistently rejected some of them. Unlike Al-Hindi, Assadig Al-Ma hdi (the leader of the Um ma party in Sudan) tried to capitalize on his genealogy while failing to manifest noble qualities. He publicly said (while being President of Sudan in 1985) that his birth date coincide d with that of Jesus (the son of Mary) and that Said Yahya, his cousin who was only four, announced many times among family members that a muhajr (someone who travels in the path of Allah) 16 I can finish this dissertation before I will be ab le to enumerate that great man’s good qualities.

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93 will soon be born. It was presumably understood this muhajr would be a savior for the Sudan and the Umma party. Anytime Al-Mahdi enters a public place, he is followed by an entourage of people who ch eer “long live As-sadig for the Sudan.” Nonetheless, this slogan has become so embarrassing, due to hi s repeated failures to govern the country, that sometimes he pretends to wave to his fo llowers to silence them. We have to realize, as Azzahi says, that a leader exists in th e African/Muslim world even before his birth time. As-sadig was suckled this illusion by his mother, who is the daughter of a great chieftain, Abdallah wad-Jadallah. Notice, Sharifis do not just get married; they give birth to future leaders. By the time Assadig becomes a president of the Umma Party, the party members would have no way escaping this octopus-lik e psychological hold. While giving a leader ample political maneuverability, in the secular sense, these myths are supposed to serve the purpose of a strong religious shield in th e face of criticism from political or party opponents. However, too much dependence on these superstitions has caused Said Sadig17 to relinquish an important political quality that distinguished his great grandfather Imam Mahdi, from among all other Sudanese le aders: choosing the right time to strike an offensive against an enemy or pulling the army back as an appropriate defense strategy. Assadig could not confine himself to becoming a religious leader like his uncle, Al-Hadi Al-Mahdi, and he could not consistently follo w secular logic, that is, accessing politics from a political rather than a religious door Consequently, Assadig fell in between the 17 Said is a reverence title used for the descendents of the Prophet Mohamed. Ironically Said AbdelRahman, the paternal grandfather of Sadig Al-Mahdi, asserted that they were descendents of Ja’far ibniTalib, the Prophet’s cousin.

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94 two cliffs; he could not impress academicians in spite of concerted efforts to show scholarship,18 and he could not be perceived by religious clerics as a pious man. In spite of the political acroba tics to diffuse the power of alboytat (big families who were once in exclusive control of traditional or national parties, either from a tribal or religious background), the self-proclaimed Islamic movement was subconsciously looking for a leader whose credentials coul d fit the definition of a sheik. They found Hassan Atturabi. In addition to being a Sorbonne graduate, he is married to the daughter of Assiddig --Imam of the Ansar (who in turn has coached him into becoming an aristocrat-that is not to deny his proclivity for becoming one). The Ansar largest sect in Sudan and one of those boytat that they have long defied. Hi s father is a judge of the third degree, and his great-grandf ather claimed to be a Mahdi some 400 years ago (Mahmoud 1997). They boosted some of his credentials an d even invented others. No wonder Turabi became a deity. He now has a huwar a term used for a disciple or religious follower (with the only difference the disciples – huwareenof the sheik are not peasants, they are graduate students, military officers), lives in a thraya -a huge monumental building according to Sudanese standards. Accordi ng to Turabi, in the 1960s, it was a clear example of extravagance. He now says pray ers for the dead, consummates marriages, and engages in judeya --reconciliation in dis putes. This is something that a chieftain or a 18 Awad Abdel-Mageed, who was the Minister of Economics and Finance in 1984, told a senior Umma Party officer that As-Sadig once re quested a scientific paper from him about an economic matter. He provided As-Sadig the paper only to find out that the latter published it in his name a few months later (Personal Interview. AM. Spring of 2003). I am pointi ng this out to show that while traditional at heart, these leaders spare no effort to appear in the most mode rn cloth. They want to be religious clerics, as well as academic shrewds. In the process, they miss what is expected of them: administrative skills, especially when they come to power. This applies to Turabi of the NIF, and many others, since they are only interested in the glamour of “modernity,” not its content.

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95 religious leader ( faki ) would do in a rural area,19 with the slight difference that Turabi gets paid for doing it (he is paid by his party for his occupation as a professional politician, a privilege that few political lead ers enjoy in Sudan). Short of distributing forgiveness plates, he promises people w ho die in Jihad a place in the Heavens. Abdellah Hammoudi, a Princeton anthr opologist, remarkably explains the anthropological dynamics that go into the zawyia between the master and the disciple (Hammoudi 1997). He asserts that in Sufi heritage two sheiks cannot reside in the same maseed or religious circle if the disciple reach es the degree which is to be determined by the sheik. This is what causes the rivalry because the disciple is always under the impression that he reached the status of a wali that is, righteous man, and that the sheik is just envious of him. When in most times it becomes evident that the mureed has become a man, that is, he shows a karama (mystical quality), th e sheik has to accept it for fear of losing others, especially if the karama mi racle is shown in front of the sheik. The karama of Ali Osman is that he became a vice president. In the absence of moral upbringing ( tarbeya ) that a sufi sheik infuses in his followe r’s heart through the em phasis on spiritual discipline ( tareega ), the mureed Ali Osman --Vice President of Sudan-could not help but to expel his sheik from power and put him in jail (Personal Interview. SK. Spring of 2003). One does not know whom to blame: the sheik who chose his mureed on the criterion of “obedience” or the mureed who endured humiliation until he could become a sheik. The superb credentials that Turabi co ntributes to himself made him expel strong rivalries, people such as Jafaar Sheik Idris or Arrasheed Attahir, and despise or at least 19 Turabi received 6, 500, 000 Sudanese pounds for taki ng part in the judeya am ong the sons of Al-Sheik Mustafa Al-Ameen (AM: summer of 2003),. This is something that sheik Abdel-Raheem Al-burai does on a daily basis without taking a penny.

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96 distance himself from the closest aides. A handpicked assistant, Ali Osman, was waiting for the moment to see the man in hims elf, what Abdellah Hammoudi, a Princeton anthropology professor, calls the delivery moment: one at which the female awaits the birth of the male (Hammoudi 1997). Under the influence of urgency, Turabi a nd his group adopted the techniques of his political and religious rivalrie s. They adopted the modernis t approach of the Communist Party while wearing the gown of a sheik. Consequently, they relinquished the spiritual ethics that traditionally link a Sufi to his sh eik and were not exempt from the competitive tendency of modern politics. In the absen ce of rules that can mediate conflict, the relationship between the leader and party members took the worst form of a sheikdisciple relationship, and it re flected negatively on the perfor mance of the polity. Instead of facing the cultural and social stagnati on, ideological partie s tried to bypass it; consequently, they fell victims to it. They ha ve escaped the authoritarianism of traditional leaders, mainly sectarian leaders of Umma and DUP, only to find that sociological intrigues do not dissolve merely by giving a party a modern name or importing an ideology. As much resilience as these cultural traits may have exemplified, they were only made stronger through the adamant attempt of Is lamists to mix a sacral understanding of politics with a sacral under standing of religion, which ha s become inoperationable by modern standards. As much as legislation is no longer the responsibility of religious leaders, religion has ceased to become the exclusive domain of the theologians (Galyoun

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97 1991). Modernity has not as much announced the death of God as it has influenced a demarcation between cosmology and history.20 Soroush contends, The notion that the new world gradually rids itself of religion is only half true. It is true in so far as the modern world co ndemns ignorant and vulgar religiosity to extinction. However, it also allows a diffe rent kind of religiosity, a learned and examined religion, to prosper on a higher leve l. Scientific treatme nt of political and economic affairs does in no sense preclude a well-defined role for God and religion in political, social, and natural affairs. Determining the limits of that role and the exact form of that relationship remain s to be worked out by scholars. (Soroush 2000: 61) Western civilization, evolved out of a pos ition against religion to establishing a truce with it and now it is facing the challenge of incorporating it as an important and an essential part of its value system. The debate in the public sphere cannot help but show a fervor for religion; for instance, in the United States people, are following the debate about moral issues on a daily basis. Although they have reached a point of maturity where they can rationally handle religious issues, Americans cannot overcome the historical predicament of western nations with religiosity. Eastern nations face exactly the opposite scenario. Muslims are so intrigue d by the changes that modernity, mainly technological advancement, has introduced in to their lives that they would want to preserve religion unexamined and its stat us unquestioned (Vatikiotis 1981). The reluctance of Muslims to entertain values ot her than religious ones has impoverished the polity, as well as deprived religion of a cons tructive role it could have played in public life. While the state is trying to force its vision on the public sphere using Islamic slogans, individuals experience secularism in a subjective manner. For example, a regime 20 “Modern humanity aims to create th e world in its own image rather th an accepting it as it is . . Our acute anxieties are born out of this conflict” (Soroush 2000: 56).

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98 design like that of Morocco, which is secula r at the core and is just using Islam for legitimation purposes, could have existed unc hallenged before the rise of Islamic activism and its demands for equity and social justice. Even then, the efforts of the society and the state were not mutually excl usive because individuals were experiencing Islam subjectively through their societal inte raction and experiencing secularism in the modern formal institutions. A regime design like that of Sudan after 1989, which is theocratic at the core and is just using liberalism for legitimation purposes, could have remained unchallenged had it not been for the transformation that oc curred in the public sphere.21 Eickelman asserts that no one group or l eader in contemporary Muslim societies possesses a monopoly on the management of the sacred (Eickelman 1999). The proliferation of the media and the mean s of communication have contributed to dissolving prior barriers of space and dist ance and opening new grounds for interaction and mutual recognition.22 If “modernity” is defined as the emergence of new kinds of public space, then developments in Turkey, Iran, and Indonesia, and elsewhere in the Muslim world suggest that we are living th rough an era of profound social transformation for the Muslim majority world. Buzzwords such as “fundamentalism,” and catchy phrases such as Lerner’s “Mecca or mechanizati on” are of little use in understanding this transformation. It nonetheless signals the dilemma Muslims are experiencing as a result 21 Though the state can compel people to act in uni son, Soroush contends that it cannot make them understand Islam uniformly (Soroush 2000:143). 22 The media has transformed the "sociology of Islamic knowledge" in an unprecedented ways (Soares 1998: 401). First, it ended the scholarly manipulation of the canonical doctrine, thus giving Muslims a chance to directly approach the Islamic text. Second, it created cultural communication among communities; thus overcoming urban/rural boundaries. Hakan contends, "The fragmentation of the Islamic movement is the outcome of democratization, expanding market forces, the introduction of alternative worldviews and increased education" (Hakan 2000:1). Th at all of this is tied to the epoch of modernity is not a coincidence.

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99 of their inability to come to terms with the realit y of modernization or globalization. The question often asked: With the use of educati on as one specific indi cator, what role has modernity played in helping the Muslim indi vidual escape the hold of medieval theologythat “amalgam of Sharia legalism and ta riqa mysticism that Ghazzali had legitimized” and promoted as authen tic? (Geertz 1965:104) Can Modern Rationality Shape New Religiosity? Depending on the political orientation of stat e elites, five educational policies exist in the Islamic World. Secular elites ban religion from being taught in public schools thinking that its influence will fade away with development, thus capitulating to modernity. Theocratic regimes ignore secula r education, undermining the significant role that science can play in direc ting the course of society and politics. Quasi-secular regimes build secular schools with a place reserved for religion, giving precedence to reason in faith matters. Quasi-theocratic regimes build religious schools with a place reserved for secular education subordin ating secular knowledge to religious knowledge. Embedded democracy equally values religious knowle dge and secular knowle dge. For the purpose of this comparative study, I shall limit my focus to the more problematic cases, mainly comparing educational systems in Morocco and Sudan, before I move to the middle point where secular norms and principles of rationalit y are perceived as app licable to religious jurisprudence (Soroush 2000: 149).

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100 Table 4.1: Typology of Political Incorporation of Islam Regime Typology Secular Quasi-Secular Embedded Democracy QuasiTheocratic Theocratic Political Culture Oppressive Turkey Schizophrenic Morocco Syncretic Indonesia Ideological Sudan Dogmatic Afghanistan Educational Policy Only science Science/Rel Sci-Rel Religion/Sci Only religion Position from Modernity Capitulating to it Seduced by it Neither capitulate nor reject Envious of it Rejecting it A century ago, Turkey perceived the madrasa as a strong and active parochial school system that promotes the idea ls of a militant and totalistic Islam.23 Accordingly, he abolished it and advocated a separation of secular education from religious influences. He was merely content with the teachings of the Enlighten ment, which the founder of the republic envisioned as the only means by which he could influence his society to venture into modernity. Hakan contends, “The Turk ish project of modernization has been characterized more by concern for its Western appearance than by the actual social and philosophical roots of modernity” (Hakan 2000:3). The state disregards the needs and aspirations of society --as the exclusive de terminants of law in the secular sense-by borrowing a constitutional orde r from the West, that is Sw iss code. It also abandons political socialization as a necessary process that links the citizen’s imagination of the 23 Political authorities treated religious culture as a “parasitic teaching matter: its time allocation is small; its prestige low because it is not judged by schools to be a criterion of scholarly aptitude; the caliber of teachers is low; the curriculum is du ll, designed to have students memorize a few sacred texts and learn some acts of devotion rather than incu lcate values” (Emmanuel Sivan 1990:8).

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101 religious communal with the national self.24 An educational curriculum that undermines the role of religion as an important basis of morality disconnects an individual's moral consciousness from his civic duty. Another cu rriculum that encourages submission and reliance on rigid interpretati on of the scripture can produc e zealots and despots whose narrow vision of faith may justify disc rimination, intolerance, and oppression. More paradoxically yet, it is not a rigid separation of education from religious influence that will make it possible to render unto Caesar th e things that are Caesar’s in an Islamic society but the fu rther integration of secular and religious learning in modern schools. It is th rough such schools that Islam, on the sociological level and in consequence on the intellectual level as well --for ideas cannot develop in a social vacuum, will be able to enter the modern world. To cut the umma off from this critical regenerating institution in its midst by a strict adherence to a state-sponsored and –dir ected secular school system and by vague hostility to “Quranic” schools as “backward,” “feudal,” or “fanatic al” is to ensure the rigidification of Islamic institutions ge nerally and, in consequence, of Islamic thought. (Geertz 1965: 107) The official attempt to reform educat ion in both Morocco and Sudan has been politically dogmatic and intellectually unimaginative.25 It has treated education in isolation of activities in the wider political sphere thus preempting the opportunity for these governments to develop an educational pol icy. This policy could gradually adjust to the change in circumstances and to revita lize the public culture by way of bridging the gap between reason and revelation. King Hassan II tried modernizing Al-Qar’aween --the traditional Islamic School of Fez-but he was faced with resistance from the (religious scholars) ulama. There are various reasons for their adamant refusal to adopt changes of 24 “Nations are neither primordial nor perennial, but entities that have crystallized from ethnic origins in modern times. . Structurally generated processes of integration and cultural assimilation, supported by the new modes of communication made available by th e novel technology, made it possible and necessary to imagine communities. . The crisis of the nation-state in the World of Islam has been due to its inability to generate this complex of integration-assimilation-communication functions which could have contributed to the formation of a national identity” (Tibi 2002: 127). 25 “Traditional values systems growing out of long-standing religious commitments represent a much more important problem in the modernization process than had been anticipated by most of these modernizers” (Geertz 1965: 106).

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102 any kind. First, they probably felt they would lose their st atus as “guardians of the scripture.” Second, some felt that modernizati on would corrupt the co ntext of the Islamic text, especially since the type of modernization pursued by Hassan II was synonymous with westernization. There were no indicators --institutiona l or behavioral-that could expel the fear of those religious scholars (o r anyone else who may be committed to Islam morally or intellectually), and make them feel that the political establishment is keen about introducing changes that could rationa lize the understanding of Islam. What they could notice is a systematic retreat from Islamic principles by way of illusion and political camouflage. Hassan II has given up on the scholars of Al-Qara’ween and established his own Islamic sc hool (Dar Al-Hadith Al-Hassani a) in Rabat. Surprisingly, there was no difference in the curriculum of the old school in the city of Fez and the new/modern school in Rabat. The only noticeable difference is that the students at Fez sit on the floor and the students of Rabat sit on benches. Only the administrative setup was changed, not the educational philosophy. The chairman of the Rabat school (Dar AlHadith Al-Hassania) reveals th at his struggle to include soci al sciences was resisted by the religious estab lishment. Unless some innovative measures are introduced, the chairman of Dar Al-Hadith Al -Hassania asserts the religious theology, as it exists today, will be completely impotent in providing so lutions to endemic social and political problems (Personal Interview. AT. Fall of 2003). When they were asked to provide a plan to implement the Zakat, for example, religi ous scholars copied what was in the old antique books and presented it to Hassan II. He got discouraged because it was evident to him that these scholars were not in touch with modern real ity (Personal Interview. AJ. Fall of 2003).

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103 Along the same lines, as previously di scussed, Sudanese traditional parties established Omdurman Islamic University, but they made no attempt to influence the curriculum, recruit criteria, or even d ecide upon general policies. The DUP and the Umma Party knew that they wanted an Islamic University. But they were not clear as to the purpose that such a school could serve in the wider context of democratic politics, apart from them answering the demands of a religious public The school made no attempt to revive the pluralist, liberalist, and tolerant Islam that prevailed 10 centuries ago and which was buried (alive) for political reasons that I discuss in Chapter 3. It taught scholastic Islam, which, according to Arkoun, Aljabri, and others, is dogmatic, fundamentalist, and encourages a monotheist vision of the world.26 (The rationalist school of Islam was compromised 10 centuries ag o for reasons that ar e still prevalent in the Muslim world.) As Ernest Gellner correctly argues, wh at reshaped the cycle was modern mass education, which in widening access to th e written cultural traditions, ended up strengthening the hand of fundamentalis m. For the policies upon which this education was implemented were such that instead of opening minds to critical inquiry and rational approaches, they fa vored a return to premodern views and attitudes. (Filali-Ansary 2003: 3)27 Unsurprisingly, we have graduates who bear the responsibility of protecting Islamic theology but are ill prepared to adopt it to today’s terms. 26 In his examination of the educational systems in Syrian and Egyptian education, Emmanuel Sivan notices, “Concerning school curricula, the radicals voice the all-too-expected complaint that the teaching of science, though not openly critical of religion, is subverting Islam quite efficiently, precisely by being oblivious to it. Science offers an alternative explanat ory model, supposedly value-fee and objective; it does not even deign to try to reconcile this model with Is lam. The implication is, of course, that by transfer through training, the same approach will be applied to other spheres. In like vein, the radicals attack the teaching of philos ophy for giving too much place to Western th inkers and above all for having Islamic philosophy such as the Mu’tazila school, Avicenna and Averroes, branded as deviationists in their own times” (Sivan 1990: 6). 27 “In this neo-Khaldunian view, the ch ances of liberal, secularized Islam ar e, therefore, very limited. And, indeed, taking Ibn Khaldun’s theory as a starting point is a path to reestablishing classical essentialism; it is another way of asserting that Islam always leads to similar patterns of behavior, as it did in the past, and as it must do in the present” (Filali-Ansary 2003: 3).

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104 In their attempt to reconceptualize th e educational curriculum, the Sudanese government introduced Islamic studies in all di sciplines and at all university levels, but with no attempt to imaginatively and courag eously bridge the ga p between secular and religious sciences. Students do not see the rele vance between their fi eld of specialization and “Islamic subjects.” The government made no attempt --needless to say, creative attempt-to see which part of the sharia can aid the medical student in his understanding of biology, or how can the student of astr onomy help advance his understanding of some aspects of the Qur’an. They picked some s ubjects and threw them into the curriculum hoping that the students can make sense out of them somehow one day (Personal Interview. HJ. Spring of 2003).28 Ironically, the government resisted attempts to incorporate social sciences into any of the so-called Islamic disciplines. Even worse, to counterbalance the intellectua l weight of “secularism,” the Islamist government in Khartoum compromised the scientific integrit y of schools under its control, such as the University of Qur’anic Sciences (UQS), by gi ving doctorates to unqua lified students. He said the amounts of doctorates that the UQS gave the last five years (1995-2000) is equivalent to the number the University of Kh artoum gave in the last 50 years (Personal Interview. AK. Spring of 2003). Those religiously educated may more recently have been accredited in the eyes of the public, however, their capability to pr ovide solutions for worldly problems has recently come under scrutiny. The public may not perceive individuals such Al-Jabri 28 When students dared to explore the limits of critical thinking, they were discouraged by the “guardians of faith.” I spoke to one of the professors at Omdurm an Islamic University, wh o was furious because the faculty of the Department of Arabic rejected the propos al of one of his students; they justified their refusal saying that in an Islamic university, a student should not be studying the literature of a secular ba’theist Iraqi poet, such as Al-Bayati (Perso nal Interview. MM. Spring of 2003).

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105 (socialist) in Morocco or Kamal al-Juzouli (communist ) in Sudan, as “Islamically authentic,” but can relate to the scientific rati onality and political feasib ility of their logic. Thus, these countries are now faced with a cl assic problem of religi ously educated elites who are alienated from the reality of politic s, and secularly educated elites who are alienated from the masses. Inasmuch as it bifurcates legitimacy and effectiveness, the religion/science dichotomy expl ains the plight of governan ce in the Muslim world, which will be discussed further in Chapter 5. “Islam faces today the worst ordeal in its existence --its complete absence from all realms of hu man existence-menaced to be reduced to insignificance and relegated to the dustbin of history” (Emmanuel Si van 1990: 2). Is there a philosophically balanced educational polic y that can help the Muslim population come to terms with the modern world without reject ing or capitulating to it, but becoming part of it? Do we detect an avenue in cont emporary debate, and with what objectives? There are three tendencies that have primary historical precedence: 1) apologetic which aims at reforming popular religiosity without reexamining orthodox religious beliefs; 2) radical, which, in the process of asserting Islam’s authority in the political sphere, combines “premodern epistemological views with modern ideological attitudes,” and 3) enlightened which abandons ahistorical essent ialism and accepts the methods and suppositions of modern schol arship (Filali-Ansary 2003:6).29 Imam Mohammed Abduh (1849-1905) is the fi rst among the traditionalists to have genuinely attempted to grapple with the i ssue of bridging the ga p between “reason” and 29 While religious beliefs cast a light upon human life from the outside, man acts as a receptor of this divine truth. Being the fallible being he is, man's perception of the truth will follow an elusive labyrinthine path, a theory Soroush calls the "Expansion and Contraction of Knowledge" (Soroush 2000:133). This is consistent with Geertz's suggestion that, as opposed to other sort s of beliefs, ideological, philosophical, scientific, or commonsensical, religious beliefs are not inductive, they are paradigmatic; the world does not provide evidence of truth but an illustration of it (Geertz 1965: 98).

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106 “revelation.” Abduh refused to abide by taqlid (the traditional interpretation of the Qur’an) and exhorts those believers with th e requisite knowledge a nd intellectual equity to interpret the Qur’an in light of the m odern current of thoughts. Though he limits ijithad (independent interpretation) to ibadat (matters of worship), he argues that any statement in the Qur’an has to conform to the canons of reason in mu’amalat (matters of life dealings). In case of conf lict between the two, Abduh give s precedence to reason over the literal meaning of the Sharia (Adams 1965: 127). Nonetheless, he applies this methodology to family issues, such as divorce polygamy, law of testate and intestate succession, that are explicitly mentioned in th e Sharia, and conflict w ith the dictates of natural law. According to Euben, “Abduh reinterprets Is lamic concepts in terms of Western ideals and vice versa, linking, for example, maslaha --reform in the interest of the community-to utilitarianism, shura --the principle of consul tation-to parliamentary democracy, ijam’ (consensus) to public opinion” (Euben 1991:17). This epistemological eclecticism explains some of Abduh’s apparent inconsistencies. Though he views science as an autonomous mode of thought from religion, Abduh treats governance as an extension and specification of the religious perspective. Th is position invites a critique from the right side of the ideological spectrum. Unlike Abduh, whose training as a scholar wa s limited to religious education, Qutb received his intellectual training in the United States in the 1960s. Not long after his return from his studies, he was persecuted by Jamal Abd al-Naser, President of Egypt. Said Qutb, the intellectual father of modern Islamic activism, considers the scientific rationality of the Enlightenment and its objectifying attitude toward the world as

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107 permeating Western social and political thought. This rationality, Qutb asserts, is defined in opposition to faith. It rejects the f oundations of knowledge --epistemology-that transcends human existence and power. Qutb ar gues that reinterpretation of the Qur’an to accord with the dictates of reason of this kind will destroy both the substance and authority of revealed truth (Euben 1997: 23). Qutb sees the West living in a state of “ jahiliya ” (complete ignorance) for the following reasons. The economic institutions of the West are fully governed by material rationality, a belief that defies the ontology of any religion. Secularism rules political institutes as a sovereign mistress, thus de nying social norms and especially religious values a role in designing public policy pr oceedings. The Enlightenment’s vilification of religion, according to Qutb, has at a mi nimum caused moral relativism, and at a maximum culminated in the moral impoverishme nt of Western societ ies. In his own way, each scholar rejects the separation of faith and reason. While Abduh portrays science as an expression of Islam, Qutb tries to count er the cultural hegemony of the West with an Islamic ideology that subordina tes science to Islamic creed. Qutb admires the processes associated with modernization, for example, rationalization as well as technical capacity of the modern state. But he sells his versi on of modernity --a set of socially encoded values emphasizing sympathy for traditional values over economic efficiency, power, and profit (Euben 1992: 30). Soroush, a contemporary Iranian scholar, differentiates religious knowledge from religion and makes the former an inte gral component of human knowledge. By envisioning religious knowle dge as evolving with other branches of human knowledge, he welcomes the application of secular norms and principles of rationality to religious

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108 jurisprudence (Soroush 2000: 149). Thus he escapes the reluctance of Abduh to apply secular knowledge to sharia matters and Qutb ’s unweary effort to s ubordinate sharia to modern political proceedings. That is to sa y, should people decide to abide by sharia, whose understanding of it should prevail. How is that an elite few (scholars or Islamic activists) or the members of parliament should decide on behalf of the people?30 With his "expansion and contraction of knowledge" theory, Soroush escapes the epistemological eclecticism of Mohammed Abdu h and the epistemological relativism of Said Qutb. Is Soroush then establishing an epistemological pluralis m? By differentiating religious knowledge from religion and maki ng it an integral component of human knowledge, Soroush attempts to articulate a relationship between re ligion and politics. This articulation avoids extremes, secularizat ion of religion, or the ideologiziation of politics. Is such an ideal f easible? Can religion set the cu ltural accord within which the political discord takes place w ithout interfering in politics (Tocqueville 2000: 73)? In his words, this genius asserts, Once the status of reason, particularly th e dynamic collective reason, is established; once the theoretical, practical, and historic al advances of humanity are applied to the understanding and acceptance of religion; once extra religious factors find an echo within the religious domain; and fina lly, once religion is rationalized, then the way to epistemological pluralism --the centerpiece of democratic action-will be paved. (Soroush 2000) To the extent that the transition --from an epistemological revolution to political democracy-substantially transforms rights and duties, it is morally contentious. The transition can help the society members syst ematically and consis tently go through the “thick layers of interpretati on,” rather than make frog loops that achieve nothing other 30 Soroush asserts, “It is the religio us understanding that will have to adjust itself to democracy not the other way around; justice, as a value, cannot be religio us. . .Justice, then, is a metrareligious category, and the right and acceptable religion should, inev itably, be just” (Soroush 2000: 131-132).

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109 than agitate the political environment and make it more tumultuous than it already is. For example, “Whereas in the West the women’s issue is largely seen in the framework of social justice and equity, in the Magreb countries the women’s issue is part of the a different discourse involving Westernization, modernization, and secularism” (Banuazizi et.al 1994:28).31 It is the personal status laws, es pecially those elements relating to marriage, divorce and inheritan ce, which are the most oppressive and which are the most intractable in the current period because of the prevailing literalist interpretations of the Qur’an (Lacey and Coury 2000). Filali-Ansary c ontents, it is “not so literalist as it is simply premodern in an epistemological sense” (Filali-Ansary 2003:3). Reformists and activists of the 19th and 20th centuries never questioned the historical authenticity of the established orthodoxy. This remains to be tackled by prominent scholars of the 21st century who make a distinction between th e eternal message of the Qur’an and its contingent reality (Abu-Zaid 2000). These scholar s investigate the stru ctural factors that influenced the imagination of the scholars w ho authenticated the Sunna almost a century after the death of the Prophet (Arkoun 2000). Th ey also expose the variegate approaches to the interpretation of sh aria that got harmonized under politically malignant circumstances (Attunsi 2002). They also examin e the characteristics of the “model” that Islamic modernists present to the masses as Islamically authentic (Al-Jabri 2001). By depicting the views of these schol ars, this sections aims to penetrate the various strata -31 Muslim women in particular seem to be squeezed between Islamic fundamentalism and modernity, and between modernity and postmodernity (Ahmed and Donnan 1993: 14). Civic society organizations, at least in Morocco, have started authenticating their demands Islamically, they quote the Quran and the Sunna. As much they resist being demoralized as “secular,” they strongly believe they can demand their rights using Islamic precepts. Ramadan asserts, “A movement is af oot that clearly expresses the renewal of the place of women in Islamic societies and an affirmation of a liberation vindicated by complete fidelity to the principles of Islam” (Ramadan 2000: 141).

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110 often referred to in this dissertation as “t hick layers of interpretation”-in the chronological order of their formation. Oftentimes when Muslims say the Qur’an -Islam’s revealed book-is valid for all times and applicable to all geographical locations, they nonetheless approach it with methodological and conceptual tools that inadvertently i ndicate it is above time and space. For a long time, Muslims have stopped reading the Qur’an and instead were satisfied reciting it. Reciting the Qur’an provi des the readers with tranquility; the reading it enhances their understanding of reality. Ther e are conceptual as well as psychological reasons for this kind of intransigence. Fi rst, Muslims are stilling reading the Quran through the interpretation of others --mainly generations that existed 10 centuries ago-without making any effort to decompose or re formulate it in a way that benefits from modern methodological and epistemologica l breakthroughs. While Europeans have moved from the Kantian, to the Hegelia n, Marxian, structural and ontological expositions of the mind, Muslim theologians are still caught in th e rationality of the middle ages, that is, there is an absolute truth that doesn’t undergo transformation (knowingly Allah is ever-changing) and th e approach to it is monolithic (Arkoun 2000:37). They find it difficult to make a distinc tion between the theolo gical status of the Qur’an and the linguistic condition of the mi nd that produces huma n expressions (Arkoun 1993:96). Second, Muslims cannot approach the text with the liberty of the founding fathers of faith (Kubba 2003:3). As sacred as the Quran is, Muslims find it difficult to believe that the revelation captured the pict ure of a society --the Arabs-that was undergoing transformation. Nasr Hamid Abu-Zaid contends that analyzing the text requires the understanding of the culture to which it belongs, and, more importantly,

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111 tracing its progression to help the text speak to modern reality (Abu-Zaid 1996). This historical contingency, he asserts, does not nullify the divinity of its origin. As a containment for human experiences Qur’anic language can be transparent, but is definitely not neutral (Al-Sharafi 2000:24, 36). Since the Sunna was authenticated a centu ry after the death of the Prophet, Arkoun strongly suggests exposing the contingent f actors, both philosophical and imaginative, that influenced the compiling of the word s, deeds, and sayings of the Prophet. Philological studies explain that, in its appeal to r eason, logic undergoes primary adjustments when societies shift from expres sive and oratory narra tives to written and metaphorical connotations (Arkoun 1993: 85). N eedless to say, the move from innate spirituality to rationalized religiosity (A l-Sharafi 2000:183) occurred under politically turbulent circumstances, as was explained in chapters 2 and 3. Although the protectors of orthodoxy want to promote their unders tanding of sharia as puritan, scholars agree that it was only historical coinci dence --economic/s tructural as well as political/institutional factors-that saved the ort hodox synthesis of medieval theology from facing the destiny of other schoo ls of thought that was forcefully pushed to the background. The “amalgam of Sharia legalism and tariqa mysticism” (Geertz 1965:104) that Ghazzali legitimized and promoted as authentic was formulated under circumstances that were anyt hing but egalitarian. The patria rchal nature of the society permeated the scholars’ perception of the rights of disenfranchised groups, such as women, slaves, and others (Arkoun 2000:54s), accordingly we find issues of marriage, divorce, and inheritance among the most oppres sive in today’s sharia. Rather than perceive religion as a “historically situated expression of spiritual visions and ethical

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112 ideals” (Filali-Ansary 2003:10) solutions that the scholars found as suitable for their times were made as the archetype passed fr om the Prophet and his righteous companions (Al-Sharafi 2000:128). Abu-Zaid argues that the quintessential mistake of the salafi (orthodox) groups is their percep tion of history as regressi ng toward the worse in all aspects. He asserts that this is an ideo logical position that su pports backwardness and resists development (Abu-Zaid 1996:223). No thing betrays the moral ideals of the salaf more than this theological rigidly that forb id Muslims the right to administer their life because earlier generations were spiritually better enlightened. It was at the time of Abbasid,32 as I explained in Chapte r 3, that this historical contingency about Islam was raised to the st atus of an authoritatively normative model (Filali-Ansary 2003:2). Any opposition against th e ruler was seen as an abrogation of religion. Consequently, all aspects of Mus lim governance became personalized and the implementation of sharia became synonymous with despotism. Al-jabri has done an excellent task decomposing that period, as well explaining its characteristics (Al-Jabri 2001).33 Should Muslims decide to be the makers of history and not its victims, a revision of such heritage may prove inevitable. If th e external threat is an illusion, then the internal danger is im minent (Harb 2000). 32 Secularity of early Muslims made them resist the Calip hate of Ali or for this sake Al-Abbas because they did not want to combine a spiritual authority blood linea ge to the Prophet with temporal authority, which is a place of debate (AlSharafi 2000:103). 33 Mainly the notion of a Leviathan who should be entrusted with implementing the sharia --which by this time has ceased to be a mechanism and has become God’s law in the very theocratic sense. It has become a political tool by which Islamists demoralize their opponents, not only so but incarcerate them in the domain of God’s city.

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113 Conclusions To study how education affected political stability, this chap ter has traced the development of religious theology, identifying histor ical benchmarks that characteristically witnessed a tension betw een the liberal and th e literal traditions. Depending on the socio-political and historic al conditions, there were moments of ebb and flow that favored one tradition over the other. The attempt of the ruling elite to establish theocracy at the beginning of the 10th century, that is, find religious justification for political decisions, has led to the bifur cation of rationality and politics. This gave scientific endeavors a break from the intense heat of politics. It allowed Muslim scientists to excel in all fields, especially during th e exceptional period of tim e referred to as the “Golden Age of Islam” which coincided with the rule of the A bbasids. It did not, however, entice the fagihs to theorize about political institutions. Those who did were executed. Social values such as equality a nd justice, which were frequently emphasized in the Qur’an and highly emphasized by the Prophet's companions ( salaf ), were ignored by Muslim rulers. The rulers preferred to fo cus on the moral values associated with the religion. Consequently, we notice great empha sis on duties and little or no emphasis on rights, thereby causing a disjuncture also between morality and po litics. Although this deemed authoritarian politics ineffective, it brought about an enormous outburst of human qualities: breadth of spirit, tolerance, and deep appreciation of the human condition (Brown 2004; Tibi 2002). The conseq uence, however, was to leave the moral consciousness of the Muslim to grow in a di rection opposite to that of the state. Ever since those early days, rationality and morality in Muslim religion and law have remained two separate tracks. They have failed to in teract in a dynamic manner. Neither colonial nor post-colonial state elites, in their effort to stabilize politics, made an attempt to

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114 ameliorate this problem. On the contrary, th ey consciously or unconsciously reinforced it further. The educational policies espoused by both the French and the British gave rise to a generation of elites who, in spite of their ideo logical differences, were not appreciative to the Sufi heritage. This caused an ideological polarization that negatively affected political stability. On the left of the Moroccan spectrum were groups influenced by French communism and socialism; on the right were groups that took their lead from the Salafism of the Mashreq Although in its dialectic with the Mashreq the Maghreb developed its own version of salafism The first breed of Moroccan intellectuals embraced the salafism of the Mashreq for instrumental reasons, as discussed in this chapter. The effect of this orientation, however, was to reinforce the ideological polarization in the country, leav ing the elite at odds with the indigenous populations. The Sudanese spectrum was not as ideologically polarized because the British --unlike the French-were pragmatically concerned with producing clerks, not philosophers. The first breed of Sudanese “intellectua ls,” by virtue of their limite d exposure, was not critical of the status quo. Consequently, th ey did not feel a threat from the right who at that time lacked political clout. Sudanese politics in co lonial and early post-c olonial days was not as intensively polarized as in Morocco. The absence of a strong central authority that could manage the political process effectivel y, together with a wi de gap between elites and masses, left the country in political turm oil and deprived the political elite --mainly modernists, who preferred the state as a vehi cle of change-of an opportunity to promote a sustainable national development.

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115 "Ideologization" in the form of secular authoritarianism or religious autocracy inhibits the ability of the state to move from rhetoric to politics and from politics to policymaking Hence, the state misses the opportun ity to influence the allocation of values in a community, reshape its identit y, and deepen the normative boundaries of its moral acceptability. Denying Islam access to the public realm, as in the case of Morocco or infusing it forcefully, as in the case of Sudan, has compli cated political socialization processes. More importantly, it has wasted the most genuine of efforts to reform education. So far, regimes have taken the re ckless route of banning or imposing it. There are few or no attempts to incorporate religion with reasoned sets of proportions. It still remains unclear how this objective can be ach ieved without a major reconceptualization of the role of Sharia in Muslim societies. Islamists treat Sharia as “eternally valid and immutable standards of conduct” (Anderson 1973:24), thus using it as a tool to rationalize tyranny and assume political authority over disenfranchised Muslim populations in the periphery. It is fair to say there is a dire ct link between pre-modern and modern Islam, in the sense that contemporary ve rsions of Salafi and Sufi Islam are really reproductions of the high and low Islam of centuries ago (Filali-Ansary 2003:4). The all-encompassing nature of Islam was us ed by Islamists as a political tool that can defeat secular opposition, as well entice the periphery (sufis) to gravitate toward the center. (This is an old gimmick tried by the Mahdis It proved especially useless in a modern context where there are demands that the state not only provide spiritual but also material salvation.) Those seek ing a revival of tr adition and an authentic Islamic state have become inflexible in their interpreta tion of the Qur’an, leaving them ill equipped to handle matters which have a basis outside the Qur’an and Sunna. Scholars in the early

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116 20th century limited their understanding of ijtihad (independent thinking) to reviving Islam’s liberal thought. Modern scholars regard an epistemological revolution as necessary, according to which Muslims would benefit from modern European thoughts in penetrating the “thick layers of interpretations ” that for a long tim e have stood between the Muslims and their religious text. This is a huge task that cannot be confined within the domains of the academy. It requires an in stitutional reform that would provide the link between the theolo gy studied by the scholars, the law investigated by genuinely elected legislators, and legal provisions en acted by administrators who are accountable to the public, not a religious guru or secular despot. Ijtihad makes possible the erection of an immutable and fair system that will ba lance itself by maintaining the levels of jurisdiction of the people, reli gion, and government. If the people want a strict state, they will choose a strict leadership that will vote on a strict interpretation of the laws. If this does not fit their liking, then the next term they can choose a more lenient government that will vote for a more flexible interpretation of the sharia. It no longe r is the role of an ecclesiastical class to draw the moral boundary, but the society’s moral and religious consciousness that is a direct outcome of a philosophically well-b alanced educational policy. It is yet to be seen if such an a rrangement, when adopted, will produce a sociohistorical understanding of shar ia that is facilitated by a ra tional approach of governance.

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117 CHAPTER 5 GOVERNANCE CHALLENGES IN ISLAMIC COUNTRIES: THE CASE OF SUDAN While chapter 4 dealt with the institutional basis of obedience that gave rise to different regime types in Morocco and Sudan. Chapters 5 and 6 will examine governance indicators associated with stabilizing these c ountries. As indicated in previous chapters, critical issues of political so cialization in countries torn between a literal and liberal tradition have created a gap between elites a nd the masses. This was thereby instilled a deductive logic that subtracted effectiveness claimed by modernists forces from representativeness owed to traditional pa rties. There is a tens ion among and in between parties. These two tendencies manifest th emselves differently when both countries attempted to overcome governance challenges immediately after independence, during the Cold War, and with the rise of Islamic revivalism. Both countri es have had to deal with a region that has combated the authority of the government --Western Sahara in Morocco and the southern region within Sudan-yet in one case this rebellious region is itself Islamic; in the other, it is dom inated by animist and Christian faiths. As they were deeply torn between the lite ral and liberal legacies, the elites in both Morocco and Sudan had contrasting visions about the design of a constitution/law that will secure political order, that is, help the geographic periphery gravitate towards the center, as well grant citizens their civil and religious rights. The tension was mediated differently depending on historical and geogr aphical idiosyncrasies. While the British may have used the already existing racial hi erarchy (Arabs/Africans, and so forth), and later introduced a religious divide (Christians/Muslims) to facilitate exploitation of the

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118 Sudanese colony, the French used cultural dom ination as a vehicle to creating cleavages that were not clear or simply non-existent in Morocco (see Chapter 6). Since there was no ethnic demarcation between the Berbers a nd the Arabs, only linguistic, the French attempted inventing a religious divi de --though unsuccessfully-by preaching Christianity to the Berbers. The French felt the Berbers would be less devout because they were non-Arabic speakers. To the extent the colonials succeeded in their strategy of divide-to-rule, though with various degrees of success, they disoriented the nationalist plans by creating a gap between the elites and the Sufi majority. The principal issue in Morocco has been how to create political space under the umbrella of a divine monarch. The main i ssue in Sudan, on the other hand, has been how to establish a strong enough central author ity while retaining space for religious and ideological diversity in the political arena. How have they fared in balancing influences from secular and religious sources since i ndependence? Which are the key factors that explain success or failure? These are the more specific questions that this chapter tries to answer. In doing so, some governance issues manife st themselves more explicitly than others. I shall therefor e look at the extent to which th e countries have been able to maintain political stability, as influenced by their position along the ideological spectrum that extends from left to right, and measur ed in negative terms by the number of coups and political assassinations that have occurr ed. There is a direct correlation, as will become evident in the course of this chapter, between respect for political rights measured in terms of rights of ethnic and religious minorities and civil liberties measured in terms of rights associa tion, and expression. The more a country is pressured to

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119 guarantee civil groups their right s in the center, the more it uses an insurgency in the periphery as a subterfuge to avoid democrati zation. The reverse is al so true. Each country has had its own governance dynamics, and it is n ecessary to address in some detail what has happened in each place before conducti ng a comparison toward the end of the chapter. Thus it begins by looking at Suda n (see Chapter 5) and then Morocco (see Chapter 6) using the focus identified. Sudan’s Travel Along the Full Ideological Spectrum The striking point about politics in Suda n is its shift along the full ideological spectrum from secularism to religious fundamentalism. The country began after independence with a quasi-secular constitution and ended up some 40 years later with a constitution that prescribes a form of Islami c totalitarianism. For the purpose of this chapter, Sudan's political development since independence can be divided into three periods: 1) secular governance (1956-72), 2) sultanistic governan ce (1973-89), and 3) religious governance (1989-pres ent). Each has its own characteristics and dynamics. What happens in one period is a cause of wh at happens in the ne xt point. Therefore, despite all the twists and turns, there is a path de pendency stemming from the peculiarities of Sudanese society and its position in the global system: its division between an Arab North and a non-Islamic Sout h, its peripheral relati on to the center of Islam in the Mashreg its colonial legacy, and so on. The rest of this chapter will trace Sudan's full travel along the ideological spectrum. It will be devoted to an acc ount and analysis of each of th e three periods with a focus on what happened to political stabil ity, political rights, and civil liberties. An attempt will be made to explain why and how these periods were affected by the political dynamics in their respective times.

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120 Elites Masses Lib Lit A B C D E Communists SPLA DUP Umma NIF Ansar-Assuna Figure 5-1: Sudan Ideological Spectrum (L-R) Secular Governance 1956-1972 Lord Kitchener the British army general, who defeated the Sudanese forces in in the late 1880s, is quoted to have said, “When God created Sudan he laughed.” He means that God created Sudan, but could not make sens e of its existence as a single entity. The British had their instrumental logic in pr omoting such a myth. They exploited the cleavages between the north and the south -ones that traced its roots to the days of slavery (and which was coordinated by the Arabs and Europeans 500 years ago). While it tried to centralize political authority under the leadership of the Umma and the DUP (see Chapter 2), the British Colonial authorities ma de no effort to integrate these two regions either politically or economically. Although the British proposed secession as a solution for an existent problem, the overwhelming majority among traditional forc es (both from the south and the north) chose to postpone the issue until after i ndependence. The vote of southerners was conditioned upon giving the issue of the sout h special consideration. Among the many options, southern elites thought of regional au tonomy as an option that would feasibly diffuse unnecessary tension between the two regions. However, the political rivalries after independence between the two major parties, the DUP and Umma, made them overlook their immediate respons ibility of designing a const itutional order that would

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121 grant southerners their rights. Moreover, th e growing tension betw een modernists and traditional elites who shared the same party platform reflected negatively on the overall performance of the polity. The modernists de pended on the traditionalists to obtain a mandate with which it could rule effec tively (Holt and Daly 1988; Kasfir 1977). The public perceived traditional parties as incapable of constructively channeling their ideological differences (which spanne d a reasonable range and were inflated by personality conflicts). The pub lic was especially critical of the democratic government after an insurgency broke in the south in 1955 (Beshi r 1974). The insurgents killed “traditional leaders” from their own natives for they accused them of being collaborators with the north. This juxtaposition was necessa ry if soldiers and junior officers among southerners were to find a pol itical position in an otherw ise traditional society that revered its leaders. As we shall see, the more aggression committed by the central authority against its s outhern citizens, the more authority these “modern” elites would gain. This left traditional au thority no option but to succumb to a political agenda that may be antagonistic to its vision of political order. I make this point early on lest the reader assumes that the traditionalism/modern ity dichotomy that characterized Sudanese politics for a limited time before and after independence is limited to the north. It includes the south and permeates its politics until today. Nonetheless, it is downplayed in the face of a greater danger --an enemy w ith a primordial vision that threatens the existence of the southern people as a whole.1 As minimal as it was, the insurgency gave the already frustrated political leadership an excuse to wink to the aristo cratic leadership of the army to take over power. Without 1 I do not intend to say that traditional forces are apt to be more literate than liberal, however, in the face of extremely coercive measures, they may find it difficult to adjust to a new reality.

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122 understanding the sectarian logic that dominat ed the Umma party and Sudanese politics in general, it becomes inconceivable for an observer to understand how an incumbent president would prefer passing power to the army than to allow the continuity of democracy. This was less a moment of pers onal frustration than it was the wisdom of Abdallah Khalil, the General Secretary of th e Umma Party. Khalil thought that without some coercive measures that can draw disse nt within a reasonable range, the government will not be able to confront the growing insurgency in the south. Consequently, he handed over power to General Aboud in 1958. This was a smooth transition of power from a civilian president, who is an ex-offi cer, to a military leader who maintained the hierarchical formation of the army, as well its integrity and non-partisanship. Along with other high-ranking officers, Aboud created a mission of discipline. Force was the only solution they could offer to the problem in the south. They expelled all the foreign Christian missionaries and star ted the process of Arab ization in the south (Personal Interview, BS, Spring of 2003). Th is process of Arabization/Islamization, which reached its apex with the arrival of Islamists to power in 1989, would serve no purpose other than boost Christianity in the south. It reached a point where southerners fully identified themselves with Christian ity to counteract the imposition of Islam (Deng 2001:15). Except for Communists, who are on the liberal side of the ideological spectrum, most northern elites saw homogeni zation of cultural identity as a solution to the problem. While General Aboud used force in the sout h, he used other means of coercion in the north. He attempted and succeeded to a ce rtain extent in bypassing sectarian leaders to their traditional constituency. These sectaria n leaders to some exte nt were unsatisfied

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123 with party politics, and moreover they perceive d the gradually rising modernists elites as threatening to the socio-political order. Thus, it is fair to say that General Aboud made no attempt – at least figuratively – to represen t influential figures or co-opt new emerging elites. Unlike Nimeiri and others who followe d him in later years, Aboud didn’t build a “machine of persuasion.” He offered an alternative to politics, but did not offer an alternative to partisan politics. As sincere and good intentioned as he was, the general put the elites/masses between two stri ct options: a civilian or army rule. Northern elites could be seen to sympathize with the south. Even Hassan Turabi, who was then a law professor at Khartoum University, publicly said that the problem was less a problem of the south than it was the adamant refusal of military dictators to negotiate a constitutional order that will bring peace to the count ry as a whole. It wasn’t clear then whether he thought the problem of the south required special consid eration or if he like, as with many other ambitious young leaders of the October revolution, wanted to use the problem of the south as a pressure card against the military aristocracy that was ruling Sudan at the time.2 Regardless of the motives, modernist forces that dominated labor and professional unions mobilized the masses with the blessing of sectarian leaders and arranged a civil strike that negotiated the removal of the benign dictator and th e patriotic Sudanese, General Aboud, in 1964.3 2 A southern leader who worked with Turabi in constitutional committees says that Turabi was more concerned with his ideological Islam than with giving southerners their rights. He further says, “Turabi didn’t pay attention to our existence in those co mmittees” (Personal Interview. AL. Spring of 2003). 3 In the process of suppressing dissent, one university student was shot dead, which caused the immediate resignation of General Aboud in 1964, who felt he did not need to kill people he was assigned to protect. Ironically, the same modernists forces will later bifurcat e into the left that ruled Sudan in between 1969 and 1971, and the right who are ruling Sudan now, would consume thousands of lives without thinking about apologizing, needless to say resign. A case in point is Darfur. The Islamists regime consumed so far the lives of 300,000, and is not even prepared to submit th e criminals to justice, be it national or international (Personal Interview. AM. Spring of 2005).

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124 The new government with the leadership of Sir al-katim al-Kalifa, Interim President (1964-1965), was delegated the respon sibility of arranging a conference that would discuss the southern que stion, as well as lay ground fo r a constitution draft that would be approved by an elected parliame nt. Although it was clearly decided in the Round Table Conference (March 1965) that the south is to be granted some form of federalism that would help it preserve its historical distinction and cultural heritage, northern politicians tried finding ways of escaping their politi cal and moral obligation. In addition to the administrative difficulties that this kind of an arrangement raises, there was a conceptual problem. Somehow they felt that autonomy is a prelude to secession not national integration through voluntary and peacef ul means. Muslims would not adjust to the new reality that demanded they relinqu ish their abstraction of a “community of believers” to expand their imagination/conceptual frame as wide as a “nation of citizens.” While the leaders of the traditional parties in the north --of whom toady’s Islamists were a subordinate group-were consumed w ith the idea of an Islamic state, Sudan’s Communist Party opposed it for intellectual and ideological reasons (Warburg in Voll 1991). Abdel-khalig Mahjoub, the leader of the party, was among the first Sudanese intellectuals to have explaine d that without careful articulat ion, the idea of an Islamic state can be detrimental to the unity of a country like Sudan that is culturally heterogeneous. Second, he could see that gi ven the dependence of national parties on sects, religion can be a liability that precludes policymaking (Nugud 2002). Traditional parties were completely oblivious to such objectivity, as communism in the 1960s was tantamount to blasphemy or atheism. They allowed themselves to be played in the hands of Islamists, who were then living under the umbrella of traditional parties and resorted to

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125 the emotions of the masses to counter the argument of the communists. By fabricating a story of a communist who alle gedly slandered Ai’sha, the wi fe of the Prophet in a public debate, the Islamists succeeded in rallyi ng a critical mass which removed elected members of the Communist Pa rty from the Parliament. The Supreme Court ruled such decision as unconstitutional and ordered th e immediate return of the members of parliament (MPs). Political leaders of trad itional parties, who were then the nation administrators, ignored such rule. At this moment in history, the country was experiencing a point of high tension between the political and the religious leadersh ips of the Ansar, between the President of the Umma Party and the Imam of the Ansar. By virtue of being the Imam, Al-Hadi alMahdi had full control of the party. Sadig Al-Mahdi, a recent graduate of Oxford University who wanted quick access to poli tics, demanded complete separation between religious and political responsibilities. This made him appeal to the Sudanese elites who perceived this as a necessary step to maintaining a balanced relationship between religion and politics.4 Al-Hadi, a man of limited intellect ual capability, refused this from an instrumental point of view. He argued th at the one who controls the party would ultimately control the sect (the reverse is also true). Later he conceded to having a political leader report to him. This step annoyed politicians like Al-Mahjoub who felt, by virtue of Al-Hadi siding with his cousin that they would inevitably loose their political advantage. Some people even accuse Al-Mahj oub who was then the Sudanese President 4 In the absence of functional differentiation (not separation), secular and religious leaders encroach on each other’s domain, causing a political turmoil and spiritual disarray.

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126 (1967-69) of having signaled to the Free Offi cers -some of them his relatives, mainly Hashmabto take over in 1969. Whether this conspiracy theory holds water or not, the empirical evidence points to the following facts. First, the heavy handedne ss of sectarian leaders was more felt in the Umma party than the DUP, which explains the frustration of party leaders with parochialism, moreover the disappointment of democratically electe d presidents with civilian rule in general. It is worth noting that Sudan followed a parliamentarian system which made the Prime Minister dependent on members of parliament in obtaining a mandate to stay in office. The complete absence of democratic proceedings within the party system in general made political/administrative leaders easily succumb to pressures that existed between the parties. Until rece ntly, MPs have been inclined to follow the directive of the Imam. Second, the Umma was less tolerant of liberal views. Therefore, it was not receptive to the views of the communist re gime that seemed radical and somehow antagonistic to sectarianism, if not religi on. In addition to the nationalist component, there was the regional fervor of Naserism (and the agitation of the Cold War) that supported --though inadvert ently-the rise of ra dicals against conservative forces all over the Arab world. It even supported Nimeiri’s regime by sending him a fleet of combatant aeroplanes that annihilated an estimate of 12,000 of the Ansar in their presumed rebellion against the regime in Aba in 1970. This is a point of high tension in the histor y of Sudanese politics. Given its political instability, the regime resorted to force in suppressing dissent. Ther efore it violated the civil liberties of citizens in the north and left the south skeptical about the feasibility of

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127 obtaining its political rights in such turmoil. The state’s ability to govern in the Muslim world is very much dependent on its willingness to cultivate Islamic heritage. However, it was not clear how such objective can be achie ved while being tolerant of “divergent” views. The lack of tolerance of the right of liberal views --emanating mainly from the Communist Party-created a vi olent response from the left. This not only thwarted democratic proceedings, but was also intolera nt of literal views embraced by the majority of the population. The communists adopted a version of seculari sm (totalitarianism) that dismissed all traditional parties and assumed control of the public sphere. They infused a revolutionary fervor that treated as incompatible the concep tion of modern reality and the adherence to traditional views. Arab nationalism was emphasized, in the media and educational curricula, at the expense of religious/trad itional values. In addition to thwarting the dialectic between the society and the state, this ideological imposition of political views stressed the relationship betw een the center and the periphery. This was evident in the great welcome that Nimeiri received in all regi ons of Sudan as soon as he dared to get rid of the communists’ cadre in his regime (Personal Interview. AS. Spring of 2003). Sultanistic Governance 1973-1985 The communists ideologically supported Ni meiri’s coup d’etat, but they could see he was not swiftly adopting their policy initi atives. Nimeiri felt the Communist Party’s program was too radical. He could envision the danger of following a Leninist approach in a conservative society such as the Sudane se society --one in which politics was more of a consensual exercise that followed a bottom-up pattern than a top-down trickle approach. The failed attempt of 1971 by the co mmunists cadre to topple Nimeiri’s regime has given him popularity in a society that had distaste for radicalism (Personal Interview,

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128 AM, Spring of 2003), regardless of its ideol ogical twist. This earned him the support of the regional and international community. It is to this kind of mandate that Nimeir i responded, especially after he lost the ideological support of the Comm unist Party in 1971, that made him move to the middle of the ideological spectrum. In the city of Abu-Nea’ma, he promised to put forward the issue of the “implementation of Sharia” for a plebiscite, and made his position clear from Islam (Personal Interv iew, AS, Spring of 2003). By star ting the Islamization process, albeit in a non-ideological fashion, Nimeir i appealed to the bul k of the Sudanese population that supported the idea of an “Isl amic constitution” (D uran 1985). It is important to note that for histor ical reasons --that I address in Chapter 3-the majority of the Sudanese periphery, mainly Sufis who we re not politically in corporated in the traditional party system, chose to indirectly pa rticipate in politics. They provided Nimeiri with some of the most honorable cadre he hi red through his entire ca reer as a president (1969-1985), such as Ali Shomu, Aoun As-sha rif, As-sharif Al-Khatimi, Arrasheed Attahir. All these elites will aid Nimeiri with the gradual in troduction of Islamic values. The process of Islamization included cha nging civil laws (the penal code was introduced at later stages) and dismissing so cialist jargons (not necessarily abandoning socialist programs, but withdrawing support of some radical reform strategies). These civil laws were infused during the time of the communists --Nimeiri’s early partners. Family laws, such as marriage, divorce, a doption, and inheritance arrangements, were Islamic since the time of the British (1916). This applied to Sudan as well as all the colonies, including India in which Muslim s were a minority. Nimeiri established a ministry ( deewan ) for the Zakat (a portion of money that Mu slims give to the poor from

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129 their annual income). Th e distribution of the Zakat was for long time left to the society. He exempted all masjids of water and electricity bills. Nimeiri encouraged and financially supported the study of the Qur’an, the building of masjids and assisted governmental officials with performing Haj, a basic pillar of Islam. His process of political socialization included revitalizing the educational curriculum to meet Islamic objectives, which were only “progressive” to the extent it eliminated Marxist material (see Chapter 6). Nimeiri wanted to advance the Sharia while paying careful atte ntion to the issue of national unity. His continuity in power (and others to come) depended greatly on stopping the civil war in the sout h (Kasfir 1977). He tried entici ng southern elites to join in ministerial positions (similar to the trick attempted by traditional political leaders). But these southern elites refused to join without a clear position of Nimeiri’s regime from the problem of the south. Nimeiri was quick to adopt the terms that were reached for by political leaders --at the time of democracy be fore he attempted his coup d’etat-in the Round Table Conference. He signed the Addis Ababa Agreement on June 9, 1973, under the auspices of Emperor Haile Selassie and some Christian missionaries from the Vatican. “Though it was an agreement between him and Joseph Lago, in those days it sufficed to bring peace because problems were not as complicated” (Personal Interview. AL. Spring of 2003). It gave the south an opport unity to manage its own affairs --cultural, religious, and economic-under the auspices of a secular constitution. Consequently, the country witnessed an uninterrupted peace for almost a decade.5 5 “The Addis Ababa agreement is impressive testimony to the willingness of Sudanese leaders to achieve peace despite growing hostilities, but no one could have reasonably expected th e agreement to do more than transfer entrenched suspicions from the viol ence of war to the maneuvers of politics. Unforeseen controversies have provided new challenges. Th ose creating the greatest obstacles to effective

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130 According to a cabinet minister, Nimeiri’ s regime resembled a moment of harmony (if not the only one) in the relationship between the north and the south (Personal Interview. AS. Spring of 2003). The diffused tens ion has facilitated cu ltural integration in an unprecedented manner in the history of the nation. An eyewitness says that the first time he attended the commencement at the Univ ersity of Juba, it was opened by a reading from the Bible; a year later, this same informant saw in addition a southern youth -wearing the traditional dress of Al-Azahar6 religious scholars-reciting some verses from the Qur’an. To his surprise, in the evening AS saw the same ladies who only last year wore suksuk7 in the trim-trim (traditional dance) enjoying the breeze of the occasion with Sudanese saris. AS emphatically explains “what more of an acculturation do these Islamists want?” As a vice president, Abil Lair (south ern politician) attended Ramadan dinners wearing the turban and Muslim garment ( Jalabia ) out of respect for the feelings of northern officers at officers cl ub in Khartoum. Southerners in those days attended the social occasions of the northerners. Nowadays due to the grievances that southerners have, one can barely see a sout hern elite in a predominately northern gathering (Personal Interview. AL. Spring of 2003). What made S udanese politicians relinquish a process of political socialization that could have gradua lly integrated the count ry, thereby providing stability and giving it a sense of integrated development? institutionalization of the Addis Ababa Agreement concern the extraordinarily delicate task of unifying former enemies into a single mil itary force, creating acceptable admini strative relationships between region and center, and financing sustained economic development in the Southern Region” (Kasfir 1977:148). 6 Islamic University at Cairo. 7 Traditional southern dress that covered only the belly area of a woman’s body.

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131 According to an education scholar, prim ary students, for example, in the south were taught up to the third gr ade certain subjects in thei r own mother’s dialect, along with Arabic (Personal Inte rview, JO, Spring of 2003). This was stopped in 1983 when Nimeiri announced the September ( Sharia ) laws and started the process of homogenization that advocated Arabic as th e only mean of communi cation in classrooms. What pushed Nimeiri along an ideological r oute, which made him renege on the Addis Ababa Agreement? This agreement was his pa ramount political achievement --one that for sometime stood out as an African success story. It gave Sudan an undisturbed peace for a full 10 years (1972-1982)? What made Nimeiri insert a barabani (steel rod), to borrow his own expression, in the play field of Sudanese politics (Per sonal Interview, SB, Spring of 2003)? (Why did not anyone dare to pull the barbandi out and level the field of politics?) Why did Nimeiri need to push the issue of Sharia so much that it upset the balance of his power? A layman can say that Nimeiri went nuts, a political scientist cannot. To explain this we need to fi rst study the behavior of the agent from an anthropological perspective. S econd, we need to scrutinize the structural factors that supported the regime and which came into cont radiction the more Nimeiri advanced to the right of the ideological path. Nimeiri became a devout disciple ( mureed ) of the renowned Sheik As-Sharif Mohamed Al-Ameen Al-Khatemi, and visited the sheik ’s city, Karkoug, in major religious ceremonies. For as l ong as As-Sharif Al-Khatemi was alive, he ensured that the moral recovery of the president from alcohol ism and the brutal killing of his communists

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132 colleagues in 1971 would not become a plight for the nation.8 He tried to redeem himself by expediting the process of Isla mization. After the death of his sheik Sharif Mohamed Alameen, Nimeiri moved into religious dogma. By this time, he was a political orphan who needed adoption. A clique of urban sheiks, dogmatic clerics, and loyal legal advisors provided him exactly this opportunity (Duran 1985).9 This was a precarious move that brought the whole system to a halt. Nimeiri was especially devastated when traditional leaders --mainly from Umma, DUP, and Muslim brotherhoods-attempted a coup d’etat with the financial and logistic help of Colonel Kadaffi in 1976. Nimeiri decr ied this as an invasion and incursion on national sovereignty since the machinery was transported to Khartoum through the Libyan-Sudanese boundary, that is of western Sudan. The thr eat this time did not come from the army; it came from traditional and modern parties that enjoyed religious legitimacy.10 It emanated from leaders who accused Nimeiri of giving in too much to the demands of the south by granting it federalism.11 Ironically, he did nothing more than to adopt the proposal that these leaders outlined before coming to the May Revolution (1969). So the opposition challenged the religio us legitimacy of Nimeiri. The opposition asked: Whom does Nimeiri represent? The oppo sition leader did not just want to know 8 After all, Nimeiri had neither intellectual nor pedagogi cal training in Islam, and to a large extent needed the guidance of a guru (Personal Interview, AA, Spring of 2003). 9 “Although a number of explanations have been given for the sudden introduction of Sharia law in 1983, it seems that Nimeiri’s intention was to outmaneuver the Muslim Brotherhood because this remained its demand” (Salih 1990:212). It was his last political bulle t; he played roulette and shot himself in the head. 10 “Power rests, as ever, in the hands of a few fa milies in Khartoum. They come from three small ethnic groups in northern Sudan, and are connected to certain religious sects, which, in modern times, have become political parties. Politics is a game of musical chairs between and within these families as they jostle for alliances – or to betray one another” (Economist; 08/19/2000). 11 Nelson Kasfir asserts, “Opposition to the agreement in the North seems to have been more a device to attack Nimeiri than a genuine concern with Southern affairs” ( Kasfir 1977:145).

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133 what steps have taken to implement in Sharia or advance Islamic cause.12 They also challenged the secular foundation of his regime: his ability to maintain the national unity of Sudan. Federalism of the south was seen by traditional leaders as a prelude to disintegration. (This only show s their lack of vision. National party leaders were not providing leadership; they were only reacting to events.) By this time, Nimeiri was politically exhausted and therefore he accepted an initiative for reconciliation. However, the opposition leaders were not in agreement as to the least acceptable and agreeable terms. Sharif Hussein, without any hesitation, refused any ag reement with the regime. He saw Nimeiri as incompetent and incredible. Th e latter was discouraged because, after all, sharif Husseain is the man who presented the st rongest the threat to the regime. This was a blow to Nimeir’s attempt to diffuse th e power of the opposition, but he nonetheless proceeded to make an attempt for national r econciliation. What mattered most to Nimeiri at that moment is overcoming passive resistance of the DUP. As a descendent of a prominent Sufi Sheik Sharif Hussein had an appeal in the periphery, mainly Sufi orders that resided within the locu s of Sudanese po litics (which, as I said many times, was a bit off-centered due to the colonial legacy that favored some and excluded others), and merchants who until th en had economic power in the center (Cudsi 1983). Nimeiri did not get political support at the time when it was most needed. He did not get it from Sufis to whom he distributed spoils or from the United States that he remained faithful to. Toward the end of the Cold War, Nimeiri was considered --but not vitally seen-as a strategic ally. He faced pressure from the International Monetary Fund (IMF) and the World Bank to remove amenities and start the program of privatization 12 By 1978, ninety percent of the criminal laws were Islamic, it only needed to be extended to a legal banking system.

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134 (Salih 1990:211). Striking of labor unions a nd demonstrations by university students only added to the plight of the decaying regime. The regime resorted to its last card of pushing a full gear on the process of Islamization. Bu t what could Nimeiri do that he had not done do already? His answer was propaganda. He decided to borrow the Saudi style of governance: implement Sharia mercilessly enough to frighten political opponents, if not completely eliminate them.13 (Even Saudis saw Nimeiri’s appr oach as a bit precarious.) This is a critical juncture in the history of Sudan. I mark it as a datum that signaled the advent of religious zealotry in the country’s modern poli tics. In 1983, Nimeiri announced martial laws that in cluded a curfew and charged special courts (mainly judges who were not under the authority of the attorney general) with implementing Sharia laws. There was simply no judicial review. The callousness with which the punishment was carried had fallen, not surprisingly, on the shoul ders of the poor, the majority of whom were from southern (and western) Sudan. S outhern elites and concerned Muslims became critical of the inju stice that their nativ es endured. Immediately after the highly contentious version of Shar ia law was promulgated in September 1983 (Salih 1990:206), rebellion started in the south, which saw the Sharia reducing them to second-class citizens. Therefore the economi c/political dispute --that starte d with Nimeiri’s decision to divide the south into three regions,14 and build refineries in th e north to process crude oil explored in the south-was infused with se rious cultural tension. This tension recalls memories of slavery, humiliation, and so forth.15 13 Mohammed Ayoob contends, “To be fair to the Saudi rulers, they had envisioned Wahabism as a socially conservative and politically quietist form of Islam” (Ayoob 2004: 4). 14 Thus breaching the Addis Ababa Ag reement, which stipulates that the south should remain united. 15 “The total abolition of all Islamic laws was among the Sudan Peoples’ Liberation Army (SPLA) most important preconditions for any political settlement to the civil war in the South” (Salih 1990:212).

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135 Rebels made their case clear to the inte rnational community th at started becoming alert of the phenomenon of Islamic revivalism.16 They attacked oil refineries in the south. After incurring human and material loses, Chevron --the Amer ican oil company-reconsidered its investment in Sudan.17 The issue of Sharia was especially embarrassing to Sudan’s Arab neighbors, Egypt and Libya, who saw it as fueling Islamism (which was not then equated with terrorism). In a ll fairness, Nimeiri wanted enough Islam to consolidate his power, and, if possible fulf ill his personal aspira tion of becoming an Imam, or a disciple who can rule in the image of his deceased sheik It was at this moment that Turabi and his group could proclaim themselves as partners. Previously, they were advisors at best and parasites at worst who wanted to feed from the spoils of the black market. They, along with bureaucrat ic leaders and remnants of the Communist Party, gave Nimeiri the oath of religious allegiance ( baia’ ) and made him the Imam or Leader of the Faithful. What can be mo re telling? The military officer who was welcomed in office (1969) as a savior from sectarianism himself became a Mullah in 1983. What do we need to understand about the re lationship between religion and politics that makes us recognize that an imbalance can be detrimental to both? Nimeiri’s regime endured all sorts of contradictions that we re fully exploited at the trial of Mahmoud Mohamed Taha. Taha questioned the credib ility of the Imam and challenged the 16 Immediately after the announcement of Sharia and few months before the demise of his regime, Nimeiri was paid a visit by President Bush, who was then the di rector of the CIA. This visit was not scheduled and did not carry a specific agenda apart from the importance of the security of the horn of Africa. Though he was not denounced publicly by the “leaders of the fr ee world,” Nimeiri was seen as an imbalanced ally (Personal Interview. BS. Spring of 2003). 17 It was later cashed out by the Islamists regime, which under the banner of “nationalization” sold it to one of its tycoons, Jar al-Nabe Ahmed. The latter, a native of western Sudan, failed to liquidate his assets and finally lost his privileges to the northern clique currently ruling Sudan in the name of Islam.

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136 authenticity of his “Islamic doctrine.”18 The execution of Taha exposed the moral and political bankruptcy of the regime (Persona l Interview, AS, Spring of 2003). Nimeiri was eager to use force, but the S udanese people gave him no furthe r cause to do that (Personal Interview. KZ. Spring of 2003). He was ousted 72 later. The fervor of religion, however, was not going to wane. The April Intefada (1985) interrupted the e fforts of Turabi and his group to have a full and unchallenged grip of the state, as th ey had started infiltrating Nimeiri’s regime since the time of the Nationa l Reconciliation in 1977 (Holt and Daly 1988; Warburg in Voll 1991). While all other Sudanese parties we re financially and politically exhausted, the National Islamic Front (NIF) utilized resources it accumulated over the years to influence the direction of events from this point onwards (Personal Interview, KZ, Spring of 2003). The leader of the SPLA, John Garank, was one of the few intellectuals who saw the interim period (1985-1987) as a continuity of Nimeiri’s regime. To say the least the leaders of the interim period, 1985-1986, had ne ither the will nor the vision to resolve any of Sudan’s epidemic problems. They did not succeed in establishing rapport with Garank, and they were unable to defeat him militarily. By articulating a nationalist 18 Ustaz Mahmoud Mohamed Taha was the leader of the Republicans, a modern religious organization that composed of university teachers, st udents, and clerks. He had liberal views and called for rejuvenation of Islamic teachings. Taha was an astute supporter until Nimeiri brought Turabi and his group in power. Also, he was hated (but not confronted) by Sufis who saw his teachings as clear innovation in the religion. Taha was critical of the excessive measures that Nimeiri used to ensure implementation of Sharia mainly beating people for violation of the private moral code, jumping into their houses to fetch for alcohol, amputating their hands for theft at a time of economic hardship (Duran 1985). Turabi had his own vision of an Islamic state, but he did not see a justification to Nimeiri’s relinquishing of the process of political socialization. Taha could see that the Muslim Brothers, his political rivalries (and religious, because he treated their ideology as outdated) as taking advantage of Nimeiri, or playing to his naivety, if not his ills. He felt that it was hypocritical of them to give Ni meiri, somebody who was until recently alcoholic and only started praying a few months before he was announ ced Leader of the Faithful, a chance to become an Imam. I do not present the Republican s in the ideological spectrum becau se at this moment they have neither the intellectual nor the political weight.

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137 agenda he could capture the at tention of the northern audience19 and pacify Egyptians --at least temporarily-who feared that the secession of the south would jeopardize its strategic interest in the waters of the White Nile.20 In the limited time they had, the army officers, along with the civilians, who were ruling the country made a careless move of providing pastoralist groups, mainly Arabs of western Sudan, with light weapons to count er the insurgency. This was a precarious move that undermined the local tribal auth ority, opened the door for looting and killing, and destroyed the ecological interdependence between the Baggara of western Sudan (of whom Darfur is a major part) and the south.21 The government understood it was its responsibility was to counter the insurgency. Nevertheless, the government went ahead and distributed arms to civilians because it wa s militarily weak and needed to exploit the ethnic/religious cleavages between the south and the north, as superficial as they were, to “restore order.” The decision of the government to side with one group of citizens against another marks a turning point in the approach by the central authorities to the rebellion in the south. What started as an insurgency in the 1950s escalated to a civil war into the 1970s, and finally developed into a war between two nations with equally capable armies. Previous administrations were careful not to exploit the cleavages because they well understood that its inflammatory nature co uld bring the nation to ruins and ashes. At 19 By refining their objectives to mean a just distri bution of political and economic resources, southern elites thought they would get support from disenfranchised groups in western and eastern Sudan. 20 Unlike the leaders of Angaga I and Angaga II, who voiced their rebellion in the 1950s against Arab invaders ( mandakuru ), the Sudan People's Liberation Movement (SPLM), the political wing of SPLA, was joined by a high caliber of southern intellectuals (a nd later northern elites who escaped the brutality of Turabi’s regime), who could help it better articulate its demands. 21 I do not want to speculate about the motives but I have to say officers such as Burma Naser, a military officer and a member of the revolutionary council ( 1986-1987), who until this moment does not deny it, sided with their Mesarya clans.

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138 the time of his hallucination (with Islam), Ni meiri referred to the conflict as nothing but “insurgency.” He understood the tensions underl ying the conflict and particularly avoided agitating them. In this sense, Nimeiri was a good ruler. It was only afte r the demise of his regime that the Sudan started facing a governance problem. Some people argue that problems started in his time, but only exploded after he was ousted. This may also be true. It is important, however, to point out a major difference between the authoritarian regime of Nimeiri and the succeeding totalit arian regime of Omar Al-Basheer (the Islamist officer who came to power thr ough a coup d’etat in 1989). Unlike President Basheer, Nimeiri did not have an ideology. He wanted just enough Islam to consolidate his grip on power, but was reluctant to im pose his vision on the na tion as a whole, only on the north. He elevated himself above the subjects and by so doing maintained the integrity of the army for some time as an hone st arbitrator in Afri can/Sudanese politics. In the course of 16 years Nimeiri fire d 300 officers, only those expected of conspiring against the regime. Basheer fired 3,000 officers and repla ced them with an Islamist cadre (Personal Interview. YAY. Sp ring of 2003). Most of these officers were not affiliated with any party. Their only cr ime was that they probably belonged to a region, such as the Baghara of western Sudan. This region is traditionally and historically affiliated with the Umma Party, or suspected of primordial belonging to an army like eastern Sudan that is dominated by the DUP. The army has gradually changed from an institution that protected the national interest of the Sudanese people into a militia that represented the political-i deological views of one particul ar group, that is, the Islamists. The loss of the national character of the army caused northerners for the first time ever in the history of Sudan to carry arms and st and side by side on the battleground with

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139 southerners against northerners colonizing the center. Previously, nor therners gave only diplomatic and political support to the rebels. This time they felt compelled to physically join the conflict.22 Muslims in the northern part of the country have for a long time seen the agenda of the SPLA justifiable, yet they couldn’t rationalize their joining in the fight from a religious Islamic perspective. They were trapped in the dilemma of “lawful and prohibited,” as a result of being oblivious to issues of economic injustice, political marginalization, and degradation that afflicted the southern human soul. A prominent member of the southern elite said, “his insecurity is increased by the silence of his neighbors, meaning the peopl e of west Sudan.” He further argued, My best guarantee to peace, development, unity, and security is to see all regions demanding their rights. For justice to prevai l, things must be done on the basis of citizenship. Today we notice so mebody is wise enough --less th an being a god-to decide on our behalf. This is not acceptable. (P ersonal Interview. AL. Spring of 2003) It was not until the plague of subjugation a nd economic injustice reached them that the people of western (and eastern) Sudan decided to carry the guns. (Even though the petrol is drilled in their backyard they do not get a drop of it.) Even then, the Arabs of western Sudan were slower in responding than the popul ation of Negroid origin, mainly Zagawa, Masaleet, and Foor. In spite of the injustice, the former group (understandably) did not see itself at the bottom of the racial pyra mid. Those who were co-opted by the regime 22 I asked President Saddig Al-Mahdi (1987-1989) of his ju stification to join an army (SPLA) that targeted the soldier that only recently saluted him as a commande r in chief. Of the criteria, Al-Mahdi explains, that defined a national army, the Sudanese army, the Islamists, only preserved the uniform (Personal Interview. SM. Spring of 2003). (Often times this uniform, as in the case of the Janjaweed, was distributed to groups for camouflage purposes.) He continues, “Basheer made the Sudanese soldier a target of public dismay by publicly challenging the Sudanese people and saying whoever wants power he should rather come and get it as we took it by force.”

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140 saw an opportunity to square against the gr oups that for a long time (since the 1980s) were involved in looting a nd killing peaceful citizens.23 As soon as the interim period (1985-1986) was over and democratic leaders were elected, the SPLA reinstated its terms of negotiations with nort hern leaders in a clear and inconspicuous manner. The stipulations were as follows: 1) removal of September laws (it is not actually the Sharia laws as much as the grievances that followed it); 2) cancellation of military pacts with Libya and Egypt to avoid regionalization or internationalization of the conflict, especia lly since northern leaders are accusing Garank of having clandestine deals with Israel; and 3) holding a na tional conference to discuss urgent issues (Personal Inte rview. JO. Spring of 2003). Neither the Umma nor the DUP succeeded in confronting the masses with the importance of reconsidering these laws to at least questioning their validity from an Islamic perspective. Partie s that depended on Islam for a popular mandate could not approach the issue of Septembe r laws with political or even intellectual objectivity for it was their source of mobiliza tion at three levels: the s ect, the nation, and the Umma. Influenced by Islamic Revivalism, which was then prevailing throughout the Muslim world, all national parties --e xcept for Southern Parties and obviously the Communist Partyadvocated an Islamic agenda for the national election of 1987: “Islamic Enlightenment” ( sahwa ) was the platform of the Umma Party, and “Democratic Islam” that of the DUP. Salih asserts, 23 Police in Darfur followed the traces of ninety percent of the incidents of aggression to villages that were populated by the Zagawa. I am still doubtful that such reports would incriminate the Zagawa as a race; it nonetheless says something about their character as a group that can resort to violence as a mean of achieving its political (or economic) objective. To express his disgust with the ruling junta, one businessman in Khartoum told me, ‘we all welcome what the Zagwa are doing to these fagots, i.e., killing of government officials in western Sudan, we just don’t have the courage the follow them’ (Personal Interview. SM. Spring of 2003).

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141 The majority of the Umma, some DUP elemen ts, the NIF, and a few other minor northern parties, wanted to maintain the supremacy of the northern Sudanese Muslims and to retain Islamic law in one form or another. They were opposed by the southern and other regional parties, together with the ‘left’ and secular organizations, a nd increasingly by the liberal wing of the DUP, and this camp genera lly believed that an equitable end to the war had to be followed by the return to a united secular and heterogeneous Sudan, in which the non-Muslim regions would have a large measure of autonomy. (Salih 1990:214) Said Mohamed Osman, in his capacity as a party leader and under pressure from his party members (who were more on the libe ral side of the spectrum), made a daring move and approved the meeting of his people wi th the leader of the SPLA. He started bilateral negotiations with Garank and in the co urse of six months, mo re precisely, June 16, 1988, they agreed that all issues are to be c onfronted in a national conference that could decide about the constitution and legally related issues including the September laws.24 (The conference was supposed to take place on August 16, 1989, and the NIF attempted its coup d’etat July 30, 1989.) Failure of Sadig Al-Mahdi as the prime minister to give the treaty the required mandate, out of sheer pe rsonal jealousy or personal weakness, gave the NIF the opportunity to decr y it in the eyes of the public (Personal Interview. YAY. Spring of 2003). Although Nimeiri took political measures to ward the end of tenure that disturbed the balance of power, his regime was imbued with political stability (it is considered less stable than Aboud’s and more stable than Bash ir’s). He violated th e civil liberties of people in the north, but did not attempt to completely thwart the opposition. Nimeiri maintained his ties with southerners, who nonetheless doubted his ab ility to grant them 24 When the treaty was prepared, a political aide of Osman recalls that Osman called and said he would not the sign the document if southern ers insisted on erasing the word “Sharia” from the document. After consultation among themselves, southerners agreed to leave that to the conference (Personal Interview. YAY. Spring of 2003).

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142 their political rights now that his legitimacy became questionable in the south. Southerners always had to make a tradeoff between legitimacy and effectiveness. They can either strike a deal with a military offi cer, who has the will to enact an agreement but lacks the legitimacy, or reach for agreement with civilians who have the legitimacy but cannot sustain their will in the face of lo cal turmoil or agitation from neighboring countries. Toward the end of Nimeiri’s regime, th e Sudanese polity was disoriented. The parties had especially lost touch with reality (unlike Aboud’s regime which only continued for only six years, Nimeiri’s regime lasted 16 years). Neither the state nor the political parties had enough resources, need less to say intellectual stimuli, to design strong institutions that c ould mediate between society and the state. Although the democratic government tried being accommoda tive, it did not provide a liberal enough a vision that could accommodate the south, nor was it capable of channeling emotionalism that was increasing with the rise of Islamic revivalism. In the absence of an appropriate institutional arrangement, both at th e national level and the party level,25 the proliferation of democratic values proved detrimental to the issue of political stability in Sudan. While traditional leaders opted to obta in military support from the Arab world,26 Garank was gaining ground in neighboring countries.27 The escalation of the war in the 25 As I indicated in previous chapters, the Sudanese democratic system was born handicapped. First, parliamentary politics was not repr esentative of the wider Sudanese spectrum --both politically and demographically-as it gave sectarian leaders comple te monopoly over power. Second, the party system was divided along ethnic, religious, or regional lines. A northerner could not join southern parties, and whoever joined the DUP, Umma, or NIF from among southerners was looked upon by his group as being assimilated. 26 President Saddig Al-Mahdi (1987-1989) made his first trips to Iran and Libya. Said Mohamed Osman, President of the DUP, gained popularity as a politic ian by importing weapons from Iraq that helped the Sudanese army regain Kurmuk and Geisan (two major cities in the southeast).

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143 south weakened the ability of the state to exert coercion that w ould contain dissension within a reasonable range. The more polarized the political environment became the more difficult it was to keep the internal conflic ts from going beyond the constraints of the national boundaries. Consequently, the sout hern agenda was articulated by the International Authority for Drought and De velopment (IGAD), the northern agenda manipulated by the Egyptian-Libyan authorities The NIF portrayed such a stretch as a compromise of national sovereignty. It vowed publicly to take necessary measures to secure the safety of peasants who were increasingly intimidated by Chadian forces crossing the boundaries of Darfur/western Sudan to register one fina l victory against the rebels of southern Sudan.28 The NIF wanted to restore the dignity of the Sudanese people by pronouncing in unambiguous terms the Islamic components of its identity. Religious Governance 1989-Present The fogginess of the political environment caused by these fumes, that is, radical proximity between Islamists and Mahdists, en couraged the SPLA --by way of testing the political will of an unstable regime led by a poor administrator and an unaccredited Mullah, Sadig Al-Mahdi-to attack the c ity of Naser (in a remote boundary area). Islamists created a fuss about this incident as soon as they were removed from power. They claimed the morale of the army was consumed by the government’s acceptance of secular views that aimed at cancellation of the Sharia and inclusion of an “Imperialist 27 The United States and Israel were passing weapons to the SPLA through their proxies in the region, such as Kenya and Uganda. Surprisingly, Garank appealed to the communist regime in Ethiopia (Salih 1990). He could manage to straddle well between the East and the West, so long as the Cold War was over. 28 The war had catastrophic results on the population of southern Sudan. More than 2 million people were displaced in this same period, and reached a record of 4 million by the year 2000. Surprisingly enough, southerners moved towards the north, and in the direction of the presumed enemy, the Arab invaders.

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144 agent.”29 It was only under pressure from the army that President Al-Mahdi excluded the Islamists and hurried to form a coalit ion with southern parties and the DUP.30 By then it too was late because the NIF attempted its coup d’etat only a few months after the formation of the new government (whose main objective, as mentioned earlier was to pave the way to a national conference). Th e National Islamic Front, in collaboration with an Islamist cadre in the army, aborted the de mocratic experience in the evening of July 30th 1989. It vowed to suppress the rebellion in southern Sudan on less than year. It has so far been fifteen years and the SPLA has gr own stronger. (In comparison, when the first rebellion broke out in 1955 in Toreed, Hea dquarters of Sudan Military Defense, it was suppressed in less than a month). Before th e Addis Ababa Agreement in 1972, the forces of the Anyanya (rebel forces) had no footing except in neighboring countries. They did not control a single land spot ( markaz ) on which to raise their flag ( berag ). After the announcement of the September Laws in 1983, the rebellion started from Bor, a major city, but the rebels left fleeing on their faces In 1988, the city of Naser fell into their hands. Naser was only a station in a remote geographical region but the rebels never had 29 In reference to John Garank. 30 The highest authority in the Sudanese Army submitted an ultimatum ( muzakira ) to President Sadig AlMahdi that explained to him that the army is too weak to pursue the course of war as a strategy, and that progress needed to be done at the negotiating table with the SPLA. Although this was perceived by the Islamists as an attempt to remove the NIF from power we now know that it was done to save the third democratic experience from falling victim to the whims of some adventurous officers. (The NIF attempted its coup d’etat with 4 officers and 200 soldiers; this indicates the recklessness, if not conspiracy, of so called democratic leaders. For instan ce, the Minister of Interior Affairs, Mubarak Al-Mahdil, was not only notified of the coup d’etat, but was also transported outside the country by his brother-in-law, Gazi Attabani, a senior Islamist. Both remain safe until today in spite of the miseries that afflicted the Sudanese population. I simply intend to say there is a comple te lack of commitment to democracy on part the of ‘democrats.) I asked a senior DUP official whether or not we should view the involvement of the army as an abrogation of democratic proceedings. He replied, “it was a needed step” (Personal Interview. TMS. Personal Interview. Spring of 2003). This leads us to an important point: the role of the army in stabilizing African democracies. Since it is one of the few, if not the only, institutions that has maintained some level of discipline in spite of the anarchy in the overall environment, the army may as well be included in the government. Similar to that of the Turkish political system, in government.

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145 control over it. In 1989, they won at Akako (Personal Interview. YAY. Spring of 2003). As a result of the regime’s intransigent polic ies and its intoxication with phrases such as “Oh America, leave us, our army will protect us” ( ya america kalina jishna bihamina ), Garang gained important sources of finance that boasted his military and political capabilities. After 2003, the SPLA moved to occupy Yaye, Maridi, Yambyo, Nimoli, Toreed, Kaboyta, Rombaik. In June 2004, Ga rank received the French Secretary of Defense in Kurmok. Remember that Islamists created a fuss about the occupation of this city in the 1980s (P ersonal Interview. YA Y. Spring of 2003). The decade and a half to follow highlights th e major distinctions in their approach to Islam between the parties in the center a nd those to the right side of the ideological spectrum. Rather than adjusting their vision to fit the Sudanese reality, Islamists tried adjusting Sudan to a doctrinal vision that did not extend be yond an elite few, mainly a council of 40 members. In 1989, the Islamist regime substantially changed educational curricula, media program, and the rules of interaction in the public sphere.31 The Sudanese government suppressed view s that may have been critical -not even dissenting (Personal Interview. GA. Fall of 2003). It censored TV programs to remove Western debauchery. It prohibited dances of some Sudanese tribes that may seem erotic, and made mandatory the wearing of hijab (Islamic dress for women). The government also prohibited the intermingling of men and wome n, and determined a curfew time for night parties. The government increased its visibili ty in the public sphe re that nonetheless spurred a moral decline unprecedented in the history of the nation. Contrary to the assertion that an “Islamically conscious ci tizenry would readily submit to an Islamic 31 On more than one occasion, the vice president, Ali Os man, declared that they needed to reconceptualize the Sudanese fabric (Personal Interview. ABN. Spring of 1994).

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146 state” (Naser 2001:141). The opposition became mo re critical of elites whose actions defied every principle of Islamic ethics. Needle ss to say the public had utter disgust with opportunist economic policies that favored only the NIF members (Haj-Hamad 1998).32 Unlike the time of Nimeiri when Tu rabi had to share power with the Sufis communists, and bureaucratic figures, at this point he ruled as he pleased. He brought an “Islamic cadre” to all public institution and fired those w hom he perceived as opponents or being neutral. Ideological commitment of governmental agents became of paramount importance. Army personnel (and police) were re placed with loyalists for fear of future military coup d’etats.33 To allow for programs to be carried out effectively, the bureaucracy was infiltrated with party members who spared no effort to eliminate all rules of transparency or accountability, whic h could hinder the attainment of personal wealth or secure privileges that party me mbers could pay back without the need of promissory notes (Personal Interview. MK. Spring of 2003). The capitalist or precapitalist class, which is said to have receiv ed preferential treatment over the peasants at the time of Nimeiri was now completely eliminated. (Nimeiri was steadfast in maintaining his grip on his power, however, according to the opinion of his opponents among those he detained and persecuted --he did not favor any group over another.) Even 32 In his evaluation of the Islamiza tion process in Pakistan, Seyyed Nasr says, “Islamization served the interests of weak post-colonial states at a critical juncture (in the 1980s). It allowed those states to survive serious challenges to their authority, and provided them with ideological tools that allowed them to expand their power and reach and to create greater harmony in state-society re lations at a time when the society was turning to Islam . . On the downside, Islamization allowed states to avoid fundamental reforms in their economies, political structures, and policy maki ng as it facilitated expansion of state power through successful manipulation of ideology rather than ra tionalization of the structure and working of state institutions” (Nasr 2001:168). 33 The government will admit at some point that it made the mistake of firing a great number of qualified officers and substituted them with loyalists who ofte ntimes were amateurs (Personal Interview. YAY. Spring of 2003).

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147 if peasants in the past did not receive the prof it they deserved, they at least got enough to survive. To have a fair assessment of the misery that befell the population of Darfur, for example, we have to reali ze that these peasan ts are dependent on subsistence economy and subsidies to pay for their living expe nses. Although the NIF was critical of the structural adjustment programs, it hailed them as a panacea for Sudan’s economic problems as soon as the party came to office in 1989. But even if it preached liberalism, the NIF practiced protectionism for the ru ling junta. Rather than enhancing the productivity of the society, th e state created a consumerist society that benefited the parasitic class in the cen ter. In the period 1998 to 2000 Sudan imported artificial fertilizers for less than $2million, toxic mate rials for killing germs for less than $7million --about the same amount that was spent on im porting cake, biscuits, and candies-and tractors for less than $10million. On the consumption side, Sudan imported daily products for $40million, cooking oil for $30millio n, fizzy drinks for $17million, tobacco for $40million, radio and TV sets for $149million, importing car for $90million --twice as much as spent on importing sacks (Kabag 2003: 2/19). Money spent to bring oil from Malaysia, Saudi Arabia, and so on, was more than that spent on toxic materials, 1.25 times more than on tractors, and three times as much as paid for fertilizers (Center of Sudan Studies, February/1994). In addition to the extreme w eather conditions, the lack of attempts by the Sudanese authorities to provide the peas ants with resources that can improve their crop productivity has made the population of western Sudan comp letely destitute. To save the region of western Sudan (which comprises Darfur and Ko rdofan) from the pli ght of an expected

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148 famine, the NIF government increased the agri cultural area designated for zora (sorghum) in the Gezira Scheme from 200,000 to 800,000 feda ns (four fedans are equivalent to one dunam). Knowingly, the cost of transporting these products could ha ve revolutionarized agriculture in western Sudan, a deprived regi on, which, in spite of its use of medieval tools, non-existent infrastructure, plumme ting health and educational services, and absence of security, exceeds ot her regions of central Sudan that use advanced machinery in production terms. For example, the producti on of zora in western Darfur in 1999/2000 exceeded that of Al-Kadarif (central Suda n) by 160 kilos/fedan: In the following year, Darfur exceeded the production of the same area by 75 kilos/fedan. On page 292 of the report from the Center of Strategic Studies at Khartoum, which is a government think tank to which many e xperts are invited, the report explains that the authorities have abandoned the pricing of agricultu ral products for the market mechanism. As a result the peasan ts fell victims of the mercy of middle agents who in turn found their way of deva luing the products in spite of the decline in supply not an inherently market characteristic. (Kabag 2003:4). Due to astronomical inflation rates coupled with privatization of ed ucation and health services, people in the rural areas have found it increasingly difficult to make ends meet. The reluctance of the state elites to provide service to the poor has definitely added to the plight of the whole nation.34 What is especially distur bing is the distribution of economic benefits, which has revealed racist preferences on the part of the decisionmakers. Kabag’s examination of the distribut ion of health facili ties per 100,000 citizens in 2000 reveals that although Darf ur’s contribution to the nati onal income is 6 percent, it is assigned one-fifth the numb er of doctors assigned to northern Sudan and River Nile region that contribute only 2.5 percent. Al so, Darfur hospitals are allocated 74 beds, compared to 402 in northern Sudan (Kaba g, 6:33). Knowingly, Darfur resembles 18 34 The state can only improve productivity if it develops its citizens and aims at improving their skills (Personal Interview. IK. Spring of 2003).

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149 percent of Sudan’s population, the northern region 3.75 percent. The disparities in educational services are equally marked: of the 15 percent of the population that resides in Khartoum, 32 percent obtained a passing record in the Sudan General High School Certificate, compared to 15 percent in Da rfur of which only 5.9 percent passed. Of the 1,350,000 students between the ages of 6 and13 who were eligible for education in year 2000, only 400,000 were included, that is, less th an 29 percent. Which means almost 70 percent will go to the street as did their parents in agriculture or pastoralism (Kabag 2003: 6/31). If the trend continues, Darfur w ill not have a scientist in the next 20 years (Kabag 2003: Article 6, page 31). Even if demo cracy is restored, it will be awhile before an institutional balance occurs that restores th e confidence of the peopl e in the state as an important central authority. By dominating politics and the economy, th e NIF has eliminated student, labor, and professional unions, and bureaucr atic figures and economic elites as the backbone of the civil society. Thus, it has relinquished the link that the Sudanese (autocratic) state traditionally maintained with society (Pers onal Interview. AB. Spring of 2003). The NIF has marginalized traditional parties that su stained a spiritual li nk with the periphery.35 It has left the northern parties -even some southern groups-with no alternative but to fall in the arms of Garank. Consequently, all opposition leaders met in Asmara in 1994 and decided to escalate the war until the failure of the ideological regime would fall. Not only does Garank now control the south, but he al so has a strong influe nce on the politics in 35 Abdullahi Gallab contends, “it might look paradoxical that the regime’s absolute claim to Islam and its attempt to marginalize and suppress other religious, Is lamic and non-Islamic, expressions has led to the most serious rival claims that embedded themselves in Islam. Based on its presumption that it can credibly fuse the religious and the secular, the regime believe d that its program of Islamization would wipe out its political and religious enemies and rivals and would lead to the creation of an “Islamist conformity”” (Gallab 2001:13).

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150 the north. He is the uncontested champion of Su dan’s politics today. Nothing could be more tragic than the reign of a “Leninist czar,” to borrow Ali Mazrui’s term, on the throne of the Sudanese nation. 36 Not only has the regime been defeated militarily, but it has also given regional/international power s political preponderance. The regime has ignored the long-standing demand of parties for a national conference that would reach for a comprehensive solution for Sudan’s problems. Instead, it has done piecemeal approach that discusses issues in seclusion of their causes, moreover prolongs the life of an already decaying regime. For example, the current presidential administration of George W. Bush recently moved from the positi on that it had in the past as an observer to being a partner, which gives this administ ration increased influence in monitoring and overseeing the bilateral treaty between the NIF and Garank. The treaty of 2003 calls for an immediate end of the fighting and allows the SPLA to share power with the current regime. Furt hermore, it gives southerners the right to choose self-determination af ter a period of six years.37 The treaty has come in a timely manner because both parties are exhausted (the war has consumed the lives of at least 2 million), the regional powers want to stabilize the Horn of Africa to avoid turbulence in their own backyard, and the West wants to have access to the oil rese rves in southern and 36 Khalid Duran contends, “Garank’s ideological commitm ent became the subject of much speculation. It is not difficult to guess what promoted so many observers to aver that he was not the Marxist he professed to be, that Marxist rhetoric was but a means to endear himself to the Ethiopian --and thereby the Soviets-in order, to obtain weapons and logistic support” (Duran 1985:593). 37 Although six years are not enough to build roads and highways, nor bridge the psychological gap between the south and the north, the shortcomings of the incumbent regime will be weighed against its limitations, which are immense. The central authority will be looked upon by the south through the spectacles of 47 not 6 years. It is the inner feelings about the interim period that matter: Will the state elite try to buy time or will it look for ways and means to fulfill its obligations?” Given the political recklessness of this regime, and the absence of the IMF, the government may look for a way to win the election rather than follow a specific national agenda. The government may look over its immediate responsibilities, thus scatter the opportunity to bail Sudan out of the qua gmire it was brought into (Personal Interview. AL. Spring of 2003).

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151 western Sudan. The Bush administration has attempted to bypass regional and international parties that have for a long tim e been concerned with the Sudanese issue, such as Norway, Kenya, Libya, and Egypt. Th is has only caused these groups to take measures that would indirectly disrupt the peace process. The Chinese are taking a handsoff approach but have secretly provided the Sudanese regime with arms in its unsuccessful battle with the re bels. Libya is clandestinely su pporting the revolt in western Sudan. Germany and France are voicing their contempt of the “genocide” committed against the “black” population of western Suda n. Each of these countries has found moral and political motives for the involvemen t in the internal affairs of Sudan. To guarantee political immunity for themselves, the ruling junta risked the country’s national interest to the same groups that they long denounced as imperialists, expansionists, and dubious entities long contamin ated with the incura ble vice of greed. In the course of 16 years, this group has oppr essed Sudanese society, has attempted the assassination of neighboring l eaders, and has harbored group s in terrorist camps. These activities, however, came to an end after the dramatic events in New York City on September 11, 2001.38 Though the move is understandably ta ctical, it is unclear how they justified it religiously. How have they declar ed a treaty engineered by the United States in 2003 as Islamically legitimate while denounci ng all previous agreements, in particular the Mirghani-Garank treaty of 1989?39 What makes one treaty Islamic and the other non38After September 11, 2001, the government dropped the flag ( bairg ) to prove its innocence though in a cowardly manner (Personal Interview. JO. Spring of 2003). 39 To refresh the memory of the reader, the Mirgha ni-Garank treaty called for a national conference, freeze of September laws, and cancellation of military pacts with Libya and Egypt (especially that northerners are complaining about Garang’s dealings with Israel). While Garang requested that the Americans in the eighties stop oil explorations until an agreement was reached, the Islamists brought Chinese and Malaysians as investors and more recently brought back the Americans as idea brok ers (Personal Interview. JO. Spring of 2003). China imports fifty percent of Sudan oil.

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152 Islamic? Why was the Mirghani-Garank ag reement seen as an abrogation of the deen (religion) while the current agreement a reverence of the Ten Commandments?40 Not surprisingly, this lack of consis tency left its mark on politics. As the head of the legislative branch, Hassan Al-Turabi suggested some changes that could take Sudan out of this deadlo ck (Personal In terview. IS. Spring of 2003),41 such as devolution of authority as the only way of bringing the locus of power close to the center of Sudanese politics. He was the first among Islamists to have realized that Sudan could not be governed by a minority gr oup lacking any demo cratic standing, but he also obviously did not want the old traditional brotherhoods to come into power again. He therefore decided to create an organiza tion called the Nationa l Congress (NC) in which many political groups were admitted on the ‘sole’ condition that they would not oppose the creation of a modern Is lamic society (Bashir 2000:4). President Omar Al-Basheer resisted loosen ing his grip of power and took the step to put Turabi in jail.42 He announced his nati on relieved of the c onstraints of dogma.43 40 What caused a group of ideologically committed scholars to go and meet with John Garang in the name of ‘Group of Muslim Ulama’ is the theocratic logi c that allowed the Caesar absolute authority of his subjects, moreover gives him monopoly over the truth. Noticeably, these scholars have already compromised their integrity in two ways: firstly, no on e elected them Ulama’, secondly, no one agrees to consult these Ulama’ outside the domain of their expertise (Personal Interview. MN. Summer 2004). 41 “Turabi’s movement has always been driven by a strong, sophisticated and pure philosophical ideology which makes compromise difficult…Within the military-Islamist regime, Turabi represented the moderate faction. More extremist, anti-demo cratic and pro-army factions were led by Ali Osman Mohammed Taha and Osman Hassan Ahmed, who could more plausibly be labeled Islamic “fundamentalists” and whose support for Bashir was total” (Stephano 1999:5). 42 Turabi was so astonished to be put in jail, he told an elderly Islamist “what kind of Islam is this? How can they deny a human being his basic rights and put him in jail?” (Personal Interview. IS. Spring of 2003). IS says that Turabi objected to torture and persecution that was committed in the name of Islam, even when he was in power; he could relate to the harshness of all of that when he was ousted. A prominent southern elite told me all people are democrats when they ar e out of power (Personal Interview. AL. Spring of 2003). 43 “Many Arab and Muslim countries feel threatened by the Islamic alternative --embodied by Turabi as leader of the PIC (Pan-Islamic Conference)-which is considered to be more destabilizing than the pan-

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153 To make up for the void of the political a nd religious guru, the regime appealed to groups, for instance Muslim Brotherhoods a nd Ansar Assuna, that for a long time had resisted being part of the amal gamate of ideas (secular, and non-secular) that Turabi used to give his rule a modern/liberal appeal.44 In an attempt to maintain its power, the defunct group --Turabi and his gang-supported the “blacks” of Darf ur, whom they had always considered a potential ally against the “Arabs,” who were the predominan t part of the Umma Party. This led to a brutal response from the incumbent regime which, in addition to equipping Janjaweed militias, used the weaponry of the state --ma inly aerial bombs-to combat guerrillas it could not identify from afar. Consequentl y, these aerial bombs killed 300,000 Sudanese Muslims. Sadly enough, the Islamists chose Darf ur as a backyard, in which they could square against one another. The NIF had high aims of obtaining parliament ary seats in Darfur at the time of the third democracy (1987-1989). It assumed that gi ven its religious flair, it could appeal to constituencies that shared the Mahdia heritage. In the process of attempting this, however, the NIF alienated itself from the Ar abs and instead aligned itself to indigenous African groups like the Zaghawa, who were determined to overcome their historical heritage --a group that until the 1950s was ke pt in a buffer zone by the British-to advance their political/econo mic agenda (Personal Interview. AM. Spring of 2005). Arab option . . Therefore, Bash eer’s pro-Arab position has allowed him to obtain direct support from Egypt, Libya, Qatar and Bahrain, all countries that fear real democracy” (Stephano 1999: 7). 44 According to the opinion of one prominent politician, ‘to the extent they tried, President Al-Basheer and his Vice President Ali Osman couldn’t follow Turabi’s zigzag line’ (Personal In terview. KZ. Spring of 2003). Their thinking is as dogmatic as it was on the evening of July 30, 1989. They are only giving in to pressure --sometimes beyond the limit permissible by Islam and patriotism-to stay in office (Personal Interview. SA. Spring of 2003).

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154 However, it was not until the NIF dismissed de mocratic politics in 1989 that it succeeded in having a free hand in Darfur. The NIF supported Arab pastoralists, who herd on predominately African land, for exam ple, giving Reizighat authority ( emirates ) among the Foor or Masaleet peasants. Alternativel y, they choose to support blacks, such as Zaghawa, who under the pressure of desertificat ion, have moved to th e eastern part of the Darfur region specifically Dar-Reizigat. The faction that occurred in 1999 between Turabi and Basheer exposed the ethnic tension they long managed to conceal behind the veal of ideology. It separated Islamists along primordial lines with Turabi and his group siding with the “blacks” and Vice Presiden t Ali Osman siding with the “Arabs.” This fight contributed to de bilitate the social and po litical bond among populations. Who by virtue of their economic interdependenc e, intermarriage, religion, and so forth, these populations had lived in p eaceful coexistence for more th an four centuries. Darfur can be described as the pancreas of the Suda nese nation in the sens e that it provides the cultural elements needed to overcome the differences between animist, Christians, and Muslims, given its geographical position betwee n the north and the south. Nevertheless, under the effect of ideological Is lam, it has failed to fuse its identity components, thereby putting Sudan face to face with its actual or iginal dilemma: overcoming the dichotomy between Arabism and Africanism.45 This section shows that with the coming of the NIF to power, Sudan reached its peak of indoctrination. By declaring jihad in the south, the regime sought to culturally 45 The pancreas is a small organ, approximately si x inches long, located in the upper abdomen, and connected to the small intestine. It is posterior in the body, against the spine, and it is this deep location that at times makes diagnosis of the disease difficult. The pancreas is essential to the digestive process in two ways: first, it produces enzymes that help digest protei n, fat and carbohydrates befo re they can be absorbed through the intestine; second, it gets absorbed through the intestine; third, it makes islands of endocrine cells that produce insulin which regulate the use and st orage of the body's main energy source, glucose, or sugar.

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155 assimilate southerners. By accusing its polit ical enemies in the south of apostasy, the totalitarian regime was determined to comp letely thwart opposition in the south. These moves, however, have created their own b acklash. Many Sudanese have become openly opposed to the totalitarian tendencies. Although the country still lack s an organized civil society and a multi-party system, the politics under Turabi and al-Basheer has ended up in a blind alley. The chance for Sudan to begi n a new chapter is there although the social and political forces have still to come toge ther in such a project. This determination continues to occasionally be weakened by the regime’s political maneuvers, mainly taking a piecemeal approach rather than aimi ng to reach a comprehensive solution to the resolution of Sudan’s epidemic problems. S udan’s oil reserves have given the regime plentiful resources it can use to emasculate the military opposition.46 The involvement of regional/international po wers that take advantage of the regime’s lack of legitimacy has added to the political turmoil. The Darfur tragedy has definitely caused its international partners embarrassment. In short, it looks as if Sudan has reached another milestone in its history as an independent nati on. The question is, this time will it be able to bring about a more stable political evolution towa rd democratic forms of governance. Conclusions What are the conclusions one can be dr awn about governance in post-independent Sudan? In trying to answer that question it is important to comment on the extent to which its fate is best explained by a misfired human agency or structur al constraints. This chapter has shown that attemp ts to upholding political stability, let alone respect for 46 At one time, it spent $6 out of every $24 earned from petrol in secret service (Kabag 2003: Article 3, page 19).

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156 political rights and civil liberties, have met with little success. It would be easy to blame it on the pragmatic nature of Aboud, the unpredictable charac ter of Nimeiri, or the uncompromising stand taken by Turabi and al-B asheer. No doubt, they have all played their part in bringing Sudan to the rather unfortunate situation in which it finds itself today. In fact, one can easily argue that each successive regime has triggered an acceleration toward political d ecline in the sense of growi ng instability and less respect for the rights and liberties of Sudanese citizen s. The different shades of political opinion that used to be present in S udanese politics have been effect ively silenced in the past two decades. The glimmer of hope for democratic governance that existed in the transitional years 1985-1989 was quite brutally extinguished once Turabi and his group took over. As previously suggested, the Islami st policies have run their fu ll course and no longer serve the purposes of legitimizing the regime. These policies, however, have brought disaster to the country in the form of the Darfur crisis The crisis led to many innocent people being killed. It has also allowed external actors to exercise greater infl uence on the course of events in the country, a factor that the regi me in Khartoum dislikes. In addition, Garank's successful political maneuvers have acquired new influence over the country's politics. Politics, however, is not independen t of underlying structural conditions. Not everything can therefore be blamed on the politi cal leaders. Much must be explained with reference to these structural factors. As with other countri es that are characterized by multiple ethnicities and religions, Sudan rema ins difficult to govern. The legacy of a party system that is dependent on sectarian groups, which are heavily influenced by the literal Islamic tradition, has b een one such structural factor that has not been easy to accommodate with more modern liberal/secula r influences. Another factor, which has a

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157 cross-cutting matrix effect (see Chapters 1 and 2), has been the di sproportionate force that the modern state has in sabotaging soci etal will for reform. The instability and the sharp changes that have taken place in Sudane se politics since independence can be fully understood only against this backgr ound. It has allowed state elit es to indulge in religious maneuvers as a way of gaining political suppor t, a move that is quite feasible in the conditions of poverty and despair that most S udanese people experience. This instability makes feeble the liberal will for reform and thwarts the potential of societal actors. In short, it is easier to get aw ay with such demagoguery under the structural conditions that prevail in the country. The discovery of oil and its expanding ro le in the economy might be seen as a counterfactor, but oil is as much a curse as a blessing. Much of the fighting between the north and the south has been ove r control of areas supposedly containing oil reserves. It has exacerbated political in stability, and despite the recent agreement between Garank and the government in Khartoum, it is not clear how easily a move toward greater political stability --and possible democra tic governance-will be. Oil is likely to internationalize Sudanese politic s in new ways. This could be either a positive or negative factor. As long as the main political actors view external actors as merely impinging on their sovereignty, political st ability will be in jeopardy. But if they are able to accommodate their views to those that other ke y actors have who are interested in the country, the possibility exists for these external actors to ha ve a stabilizing influence. The bottom line of Sudanese governance, however, trag ically remains that political rights and civil liberties continue to be violated at will by political ac tors who find their own interest overriding the principles contained in the Qu r’an, as well as the international human

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158 rights regime. Unlike other countries of a sim ilar multi-cultural background, Sudan is still in search of a formula that would pave th e way for greater resp ect of the rights and liberties of its citizens.

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159 CHAPTER 6 GOVERNANCE CHAPTER IN ISLAMIC COUNTRIES: THE CASE OF MOROCCO Chapter 5, I showed that Sudan did not have a central authority. It is by trial and error that Sudan overcame ideological polarization, which hindered economic and political development for almost five decades But this polarization also enhanced the nation’s maturity as an important political a sset. Sudanese politicia ns have learned the hard way that rationality not religiosity is the proper access to polit ics. Although there are no signals that can assure us that politicians will arrange different forms of legitimacy in a way that will not affect crosscut in the future. In contrast, religious authority was gradually entrenched in the Moroccan society to the point where it besieged the political domain, thus allowing for progression of diffe rent types of legitimacies --national, religious, and “democratic.” The pr actice of politics, as discussed in this chapter, within a spiritual boundary may have helped Morocco ta ckle major challenges, such as the shift from colony to independent nation and the Cold War that started with Arab nationalism and ended with Islamic revivalism. Such pol itical practices may also have thwarted efforts to introduce genuine democratic reform. This chapter explains that the Moroccan political system went through three main development stages. In the first phase, radi cal forces were crushed in the name of protecting Islamic identity from the evils of socialism (1972).1 In the second phase, change in the regional and international circumstances en couraged national players to 1 They were radical in the sense that they did not recognize the Monarch as the sole proprietor of political authority.

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160 demand political freedom that was overcome through the articulation of the baia’ as a religious oath. This oath made to the Leader of the faithful (1975), who is also the king, to claim an “annexed Muslim land” --Western Sahara. In the third phase, political dynamics almost died out before being oxygena ted with some liberties (1989) to absorb the tidal wave of Islamic revivalism a nd obtain enough mandate to introduce liberal economic policies. (Genuine democratic refo rm that was long promised is currently resisted for fear of Islamic fundament alism.) However, the introduction of the Mudawana in 1999 exposed the contradictions of the system. If the Makzn continues its “politics of compromise”, it may risk destabilizing the ve ry robust system it he lped create over the years. A French scholar is reputed to have said everything – and therefore nothing – changes in Morocco. The presence of a centr alized religious authority has thwarted political dynamics in Morocco, sometimes at the risk of putting the country in complete political stagnation. This notion of what is going on in Morocco, however, is too simplistic. Politics in Morocco is full of dynamics. The interplay between religion and politics well explains the os cillation on a governance spectr um between “suppression and dissent.” The king gains hi s strength by making active the rivalries among various groups. Before situations get out of control, he plays the mediator role and urges parties to watch for the national intere st of the country (Personal Interview. FA. Fall of 2003). I identify three phases in Mo rocco’s political development, although some phrases overlap: 1) nationalist gove rnance (1966-1974), 2) sultanis tic governance (1975-1999), and 3) democratic governance (1999-present). An account of each of the three periods will be made with a focus on what happened to political stability, political rights, and

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161 civil liberties. Despite the seemingly small shifts in ideology, the state navigated a tumultuous global and regional environment, id eological differences, and most recently a linguist/ethnic division betw een Berbers and Arabs. Monarch Moroccan Politics Sec Theo A B C D E Development Socialist Istiglal Party Justice & Dev Just& Bene & Socialist Union Figure 6.1: Moroccan Ideological Spectrum (L-R) Nationalist Governance (1961-1974) Hassan II assumed authority in 1961. Unlike his father, who was content by being a fatherly figure for a political life manage d by the Istiglal (Indepe ndence) Party, Hassan II was determined to rule. To achieve such an objective, Hassan II ha d to subordinate the army that until then was the backbone of the monarchial system. Hassan II then had to confront the left --in contrast to any other country in the Mu slim world-that had not only an intellectual base but also a popular pres ence. While the Istigla l party accepted the monarchy and made efforts to in stitutionalize it, the Socialis t Union (to avoid confusion I am using the contemporary name) was influen ced by the French Revolution. The Istiqlal Party thus dismissed the traditional system as backward and spared no effort to displace it. In the process of claiming political auth ority, Hassan II not only confronted the left, but he also marginalized the right that wa s represented by the Istiglal party. The party was center-right in those days and occupied th e ideological center the more the Islamists gained political power in th e late 1980s to the early 1990s). To bypass the political

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162 center, the young ambitious king restored the traditional spiritual and economic ties that his ancestors had with the Sufi sects. The political leaders, as astute as they were, were not oblivious to what the young king was doing. They realized that his sc heme would have a profound impact on the design of the political landscap e. They nonetheless could not perceive of a move that would stop him from marginalizing them w ithout disrupting the so cial order, which Istiglal Party very much resisted. The left, as we shall see, confronted the king militarily. When that attempt failed it mobilized its in tellectual and popular fo rces to resist the king’s incursion in the public domain. A trust ee of King Hassan II, a loyalist of France, Mohamed Aoofghair, attempted a coup d’etat against Hassan II in 1972. The failed coup which gave the king the mandate he needed to present himself as a protector of the “Muslim identity.” This attempted coup consol idated his coalition with the popular --not political-right that had become distrustful of the effort by the left to forcefully want to impose its vision over a conservative societ y. Most importantly, international forces perceived Hassan II as a bulwark against the march to the left in Africa. Aside from internal conflicts, the hardliners against Israel during the Cold War aligned themselves with the Soviet Union, the sympathizer s with the United States. Though he was announced the Chairman of the Quds (Jerusalem) Committee in 1979 --the committee in charge of the legal status of Jerusalem-king Hassan II had long played a role in the peace process in the Middle East. Through his undeclared support of the Jewish State (Israel), the king earned the respect of Moroccan Jews, who in turn played an influential role in granting him political, economic, a nd logistic support of the United States

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163 (Vermeren 2002). He established official communication channels with Israel in September 1994. Whereas the king managed to promote himsel f as a secular and a rational leader in the international arena, he cleverly used th e media machinery to present himself as the savior of the Umma (nation) at the national level, that is, as a traditional leader. After all, he managed, at least temporar ily, to rebut the left. In addi tion to his personal charisma, Hassan II capitalized on a long tradition of spiritu al central authority to affirm such an image. To the extent that the king is believed to be a sharif and a scholar (he had undergone traditional pedagogi cal training), his close associates contend that baraka (blessing) was transmitted to him by Sheik Hamza who was a master of the boutsheshya sufi order. Before passing his last breath, the sufi sheik told his mureeds (students of a spiritual leader) that the king will be save d from an air strike --the work of the communists-aimed at ending his life. The sheik entrusted them with a masbaha (a set of beetles that Catholics and Sufi Muslims use for invocation of the name of the Lord or Allah) that they should deliv er to King Hassan II. Metaphor ically speaking, the gift indicates that Al-Hassan II is a continuity of the sheik's spiritual duty, or so it was be perceived. The compound institutional heritage put its prints on the personality of Hassan II, that is, the all-encompassing influence of religion, which gave him little choice but to embrace a traditional role while being secu lar at heart. Though the king was aligned politically with the ri ght, he was intellectually closer to the left, give n his upbringing and academic training. It was only a matter of time before he completely thwarted the authority of the right (Tuzi 1999), and harshl y oppressed the left (so long as it did not

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164 recognize him as a central constitutional figure). Hassan II was unable, however, to overcome the political opposition altogether. Consequently, he faced a severe opposition from the left that had intellectual weight among university students and professors, professional and labor unions, and so forth. Un like the left in any other part of the Muslim world, the Moroccan left had popular support. It enjoyed considerable presence in all cultural domains: art, music, literature, and scholarly circles. Much of this presence can be explained by the colonial legacy alr eady discussed in Chapter 4. The intellectual activity one notices in Rabat or Casablan ca can be attributed by the geographical proximity to Europe --only 12 miles. Its Islamic heritage (the antique Qaraween University in the city of Fez at one time, however, attracted dis tinguished scholars from different parts of the Muslim world). Thr ough the encouragement of King Hassan II as an intellectual, much of this dynamics can be attributed the French emphasis on cultural domination. The French government conti nued its cultural pr esence even after independence. More recentl y, France spent 40 percent of the budget it, which it+ allocates for cultural exchange with Fr ancophone countries on Morocco (Personal Interview. AJ. Fall of 2003). Historically speaking, the Fr ench had tried to draw an ethnic demarcation between the Berbers and the Arabs. When, the French failed they settled for an erection of a linguistic divide. They preached Christianity to the Berbers, whom they felt would be less devout to Islam --for no clear reason other than they were non-Arabic speakers. This was a bold but largely unsuccessful move that impacted the Moro ccan psyche and disoriented the nationalist educational plans for years to come. Nationalist leaders reacted by boycotting the colonial educational system. Is tiglal Party elites, who basically received

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165 religious education at Qaraween Univ ersity or other universities in the Mashreg (mainly Syria, Egypt, Iraq, or Saudi Arabia), adopted their own schools. These schools taught the Arabic language and Islamic studies, and put emphasis on Moroccan heritage --with the exclusion of the sufi heritage (and western heritage). The Salafi definition of rationality was too strict to accommodate the inhabitants’ intrinsic motives, and their horizon was too low to entertain an indigenous vision of development. Through its emphasis on a monolithic understanding of Islam, the nationalist movement thus suppressed subcultures and hindered their pot ential for growth. Nationali st leaders followed the modernist model in their approach to nation building; therefore they used Arabization/Islamization as a tool to homogenize the cultural identity in Morocco. In this sense, King Hassan II was not less ideological than A’lal Al-Fasi (Istiglal Party leader and one of the most prominent leaders during independence era, see Chapter 3). The battle over cultural rights continued after indepe ndence by the left which thought that it could resist th e oppressive attitude of the political authority. While the political right supported the king in defeati ng the left, it also compromised its own political rights. Apart from organized elites, most groups preferred indirect involvement in politics, occasionally not paying attention to the violation that this passive attitude may cause against their own identity rights. Al-Housaein and Aza (2001:114) mention the story of a Moroccan lady who came to visit her son who was held in custody for some political activity. The guard instructed her to speak in Arabic, knowing that she spoke no language other than Berber. Such humilia tion made many Moroccans react not only to the authoritarian approach of the state but al so to the Arabic language in general. The solidarity that the Berbers exemplified in their resistance to the process of

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166 homogenization, which was attempted by the Fr ench, was mistaken by Arab nationalists as an acceptance of cultural dominance or fo rgetfulness of language rights (Al-Housaein and Aza 2001:59). It was not a resistance to the Arabic language as much as it was a refusal of the ideological approach that pr omoted it at the expense of suppressing other cultures. Berber elites kept fighting for their right for almost five decades. It was not until the modernist model of development became obsolete that the Berbers succeeded in getting the authorities to listen. Again, as with most of the issues th at I discuss in this chapter, it was sealed behind an ideological curtain. When released, it got caught up in the tension between Islamism --a term th at for some reason became equivalent to Arabism-and secularism which thought of e xpressing itself in a ny language other than that of the Qur’an. Hassan's successor as monarch, Mohamed VI, assigned a committee to decide upon the mechanism of incorporating the Amazigh/Berber heritage. This committee was an amalgamate of activists, poli ticians, and scholars who are specialists in this field (Personal Interview. AJ. Fall of 2003). The decision to teach the Amazigh language in Roman-like letter ( tafinag ), a language that is su pposed to be non-partisan, paid more attention to the political quarrel over this issue than to true policy objectives. According to one prominent educator, by choosing the Roman alphabet, the Amazigh language has lost its connection to more than 26 Arab countries that could have bolstered its ability to revive itself (Personal Interview. AJ. Fa ll of 2003). Even the Arabic language, he pursues, is likely to become mo re a means of communication than a medium of scientific authenticati on. Therefore, economic necessity, along with the cultural

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167 diversity, has challenged the ideological c onstraints of the Arabization/Islamization scheme. The period of nationalist governance in Morocco was one of great political volatility. The country was politically polari zed between a strong right and an equally strong left, inspired by the French concep tion of modernity and secular thought. There were attempts to overthrow the king. But ir onically it was precisely the polarized nature of Moroccan politics that gave the monarch, especially Hass an II, an opportunity to enhance his own political authority by playing one party against the other. This tactic paid off in terms of a stabilization of politic s, but it took place at the expense of respect for political rights and civil li berties. The rights of the lef tist opposition were violated as were their liberties. Torture and other means of extracting confessions from political prisoners were used regularly, much as th e French had done in neighboring Algeria. Sultanistic Governance(1975-99) The fact that the king came to enjoy both a religious and a polit ical legitimacy was not trouble-free. It raised the concern of many as to the nature of the constitution: Is it secular, religious, or both? The many politic ians I interviewed gave me a different answer. Even those who belong to the same party differed in their assessment of the constitution. As expected, politicians on the le ft side of the spectrum highlight the secular nature of the constitution. Those on the middl e --mainly Independence Party-try to bring out the religious/spiritual component of it, a lthough from a historical perspective; those on the right, finally, approach it from a pur ely religious/theocra tic point of view.2 The 2 The Just and Benevolence Party demands that the monarch follow the example of Omar ibni Abdel-Aziz, who was the Umayyad Caliphate some 1,400 years ago. The party wants the king to bring back money his family embezzled and hold accountable others in his entourage (Personal Interview. AF. Fall of 2003). To

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168 Development and Socialist Pa rty --Communist Party on the left end of the spectrum-puts more emphasis on the unwritten aspect of the constitution (see Ch art 6.1), that is, the authority of the king to work out the tens ion between religious and secular demands, rather than on the provisions of the documen t. The Socialist Union sees the constitution Islamic only in terms of allegiance ( baia’ ) but not in a legal sense. Independence Party considers Islam as one of the main sources of legislation. The Ju stice and Development Party, which is the Islamist part y on the right side of the spect rum, attempts to rejuvenate the Islamic nature of the constitution. Th e Just and Benevolence Group considers Islam the only source of legislati on (Personal Intervie w. KN, MA, NK, MR, and FA. Fall of 2003). It seems the constitution is purposely left ambiguous to allow the king room for maneuver: He can choose to activate the religious aspect when needed, and also downplay it whenever necessary. When the demand for political freedom increased in the 1970s, King Hassan II restored the tradition of the baia ’ (oath of allegiance), which in the past was limited to religious scholars and chieft ains. He expanded it to include army generals, politicians, and bureaucrats. This revived an old Islami c tradition, which assumes that the believers are obligated to obey the Leader of the Faith ful at all times. This is one of the many incidents in which there is more emphasis on duties than rights, applicable especially in circumstances such as when the sovereignty of a Muslim land comes under attack or becomes disputed. In the absence of an auth entic claim, the Moroccan king articulated the baia’ to indicate that the Muslim population of the We stern Sahara once paid allegiance to the Moroccan kings (Personal In terview. MT. Fall of 2003). This claim to the extent that this seems rudimentary, it embarr asses the monarch because it questions his religious legitimacy.

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169 sovereignty by the indigenous population ( Sahrawis ) in Western Sahara set in motion a process of violation of politic al rights and civil liberties across the whole entire country. From the mid-1970s until the mid-1980s, the country witnessed its worst record of violation of human rights --detention in the Sahara or underground prison cells, persecution, kidnapping, rape, and killing. Western Sahara has been a very sensitive matter among the Moroccan elite, which I experienced in trying to discuss the issue. Ap art from one scholar, none of the informants I interviewed in 2003 dared to discuss the hi storicity of the matte r. They took it for granted that the Moroccan king had to right to send hundred 120,000 soldiers to forcefully extend his political authority over the Western Sahara. The king seems to have inculcated an ideology that regarded as unpa triotic any discussion of the political and economic feasibility of continuing such an imperialist presence in that area. Spain colonized the Western Sahara in 1884, and drew its boundaries with France, which in 1912 was then occupying Algeria and Maurit ania. When Morocco got its independence in 1965, Spain refused to give up its coloniza tion of the Western Sahara. The Istiglal Party insisted on regaining the region and used th is issue as a leverage in its dealings with the king. Given its vision of a large Maghreb and its concerns with the importance of Muslim unity against the colonialists, Mo roccan authorities waited for Algeria and Mauritania to gain their independence before raising their claims for control of the Western Sahara. The leaders of all three in dependent states Algeria, Morocco, and Mauritania agreed to meet in July 1973 to decide about the destiny of 80,000 Sahrawis who were transient citizens. The political opposition then be came very critical of the king, who in response refused the idea of a plebiscite, moreover called for a Green March

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170 that attracted some 300,000 Moroccans who car ried out a peaceful "invasion" of the region (Vermeren 2002: 198-200). Under the terms of the Ma drid accords of November 1975, Spain ceded Western Sahara to Mauritania and Morocco, and it was the latter’s occupation of the territory over which it claimed historic sovereignty that resulted in strained relations with Algeria. Since Hassan II considered the Sahrawis were Moroccan secessionists being sponsored by Algeria, he declined to view Western Sahara as a decolonization issue, and refused to agree to direct talks with the Polisario (the nationalist) representa tives. (Zoubir 1990:226) However under pressure from the United States that clandestinely provided the logistics of the war, the king felt obliged to open ta lks with Polisario. He conducted these talks privately and never involved any of his Cabine t members. This indicat es that not only has the king considered the issue his own affair, but he wanted to use it for political ends (Zoubir 1990:237). While pacifying his in ternational/regional partners with unsubstantiated talks, that is, deals that lacked genuine will, the king used the issue of the Western Sahara to further consolidate his power. He extended the opportunity of “repentance” for Polisario members whom he considered as disobedient believers who breached their contract with Allah, the Almighty. Central to the thinking of Hassan II was his attempt to manage the public realm as a sanctuary. He did not allow any religious ac tivity to escape his attention. He did not interfere with activities of a secular nature that may have directly violated the Islamic creed. For instance, according to one informan t, as the Society of Moroccan Astronomers was scheduled to meet in one of the univers ity yards to discuss the sighting of the moon, as it relates to the month of Ramadan, the gr oup was denied the right of assembly. On the day of the meeting, the minister of Religious Affairs, Abd al-Kabeer al-Madgari, asserted that the topic was the sole responsibility of the Leader of the Faithful (Personal Interview. MB. Fall of 2003). It is not clear as to how the contribution of some academic scholars

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171 would interfere with the aut hority of the king, who is also the Head of the Council of Islamic jurisprudence ( mufti ). The general assumption would be that such advice can only inform his decisions better. Some argue that Al-Madgari may have acted on his own, but his behavior falls in line with the attitude of the state toward civil society and its attempt to nationalize religion. Thus, it is not likely to be a coincidence. To the extent that such an approach ho mogenizes the public opi nion (especially as it relates to issues of a religious nature) and eliminates dissent, it deprives religion of its ability to enrich intellectual debate or e nhance public morality. It is not clear whether Hassan II established Islamic scholarly circles ( Al-Majalis Al-elmya ) to initiate and encourage deliberation among people or different groups or if he has done so merely to create the illusion of debate. Abbas Al-J arari, a distinguished Moroccan educator, contends that the attitude of members in various scholarly circles presents a golden opportunity for dialogue between secularly educated elites and religious scholars, between the Imams and the public. The absence of such a dialogue exposes the country to misunderstanding and the potential danger of ex tremism (Personal Inte rview. AJ. Fall of 2003). The attempts to herd people within the confinement of Islamic orthodoxy have failed. While showing conservatism, the governme nt does not wish to lose the income it indirectly receives from hasheesh (drugs) that gets transported to Europe,3 or tourism that gives rise to illegal pros titution. The government generates money from alcohol consumption,4 and nudity beaches (to use traditi onal Moroccan standards of modesty). 3 The cross-trafficking of hasheeh is considered an illegal industry that brings a revenue of almost $6.6 billion. 4 Islamists used economic feasibility to convince the Moroccan Parliament that the prohibition of alcohol may not necessarily harm the economy. I think economics cannot be the bridge to two groups with different cosmological visions. A belief in the blessing that a Muslim receives from obeying the laws of Allah cannot be perceived instrumentally; it is about faith. The government already has a law that prohibits

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172 Aside from carrying the debris of the satellite industry, such as debauchery, moral laxity, and so on, the local media ove rlook the cultural characterist ics of the nation (Personal Interview. NK. Fall of 2003). The minister of Cultural Affairs (2003), Mohamed Alashari, who is a socialist, says something to th e effect that he would personally object to recruiting a hijab -wearing lady (head cover) for public TV, as such an appearance sends an ideological message (Personal Interview. MA. Fall of 2003).5 The appearance of Moroccan hijab on television is limited to religious or folklore programs. Educational programs have long been an area of confront ation between traditionalists and socialists. In proximity to Europe, it is difficult to stop the influence of liberal norms, but the government takes few measures, if any, to enhan ce the Islamic identity or at least stop the erosion of Islamic values. The Moroccan identity is deeply anchored in history, family values, sufi prayers, and great Islamic traditions which helped to keep it relatively intact. The main point, however, is that Moroccans experience pressure to conform to the norms of the state (and the society) that ar e becoming increasingly Western, liberal, and dogmatically secular (Personal Interview. MB. Fall of 2003). To reconcile conflicting cultural (or moral) codes, people compartmenta lize life into temporal and spatial domains to suit different styles of life or simply adjust the moral code to thei r level of comfort. In the introductory chapter of his book, Monarchy and Political Islam in Morocco Tuzi speaks of an old lady who started praising Al lah the moment she felt her airplane was experiencing air turbulent, but as soon as the plane stabilized, she asked for a glass of selling alcohol to Moroccan Muslims. This law may seem suitable in a country like Sudan with nonMuslims representing one third of the population, but it obviously does not make sense in Morocco where the Muslims are 99 percent of the population. Knowingl y, the consumption of alcohol increased after it was prohibited in Sudan, some argue it may have increased among people who were already drinking. 5 He says he will not allow a woman, as such a dignif ied being, to be reduced to a piece of cloth. I wonder how can the modernization of women be limited to the removal of that piece of cloth?

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173 whiskey (Tuzi 1999). A Western man sitting next to her saw the cont radiction in such behavior by a Muslim believer, so he asked her for an explanation. She answered: God's Praise is good for my soul and the whisky is good for my health. This is a simple reflection of the way the societ y handles the issue of spiritual ity and the issue of religion. An observer cannot find any pe ople who are as religiously devout as Moroccans during the months of Ramadan or the time of Pilg rimage. However, as soon as the month is over, men and women leave their traditional dre ss to Western cloth and enjoy life as they please the rest of the year.6 This is less the problem of the Moroccan society than of a dysfunctional political system. The system unnecessarily ties indivi duals between two poles without providing them the means to educate their religiosity or change corrupt social norms to meet their convictions or moral standards. It is often said that King Hassan protected the Moroccan “Muslim Identity” at the time when the count ry faced difficult challenges (Personal Interview. DK. Fall of 2003). It can be argue d, however, that Moroccans preserved their Islamic identity in spite of Hassan II and not because of him. Hassan II depended on religiosity to carry the traditional crowd a nd intellectualism to convince the modern audience. To make himself indispensable, he purposely kept the two groups apart.7 This succeeded at the cost of completely deridi ng the energy of the public realm. With the tension of the Cold War diffusing, interna tional monetary agenci es began to exert pressure on Morocco to adopt liberal econom ic policies. The king needed a mandate 6 A Moroccan intellectual, who is also an Islamist, says he finds difficulty in stopping people from queuing for alcohol after the month of Ramadan (Personal Interview. BK. Fall of 2003). 7 This is what people mean when they say, “Hassa n II was firm in both modernity and traditionalism” (Personal Interview. IM. Fall of 2003). No one could afford to do so, except for a good actor like his excellence. It is difficult to speak different lang uages to different crowds and still be consistent.

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174 which he could not have received had he not loosened his authoritarian grip and allowed for some political freedoms, at least s uperficially. In his own words, Hassan II announced, “the impulse of the country is about to stop.” He signaled the need for political consultation --and not necessarily contestation-to help revive the economic health of the nation. We have to bear in mind that Morocco is a country in which the population has gotten used to depending on welf are, such as free education and health services for the public, s ubsidized food, transportation, and housing for students (Vermeren 2002). The king in short wanted to pass the blame of introducing drastic economic measures on to someone else because he was afraid that the new policies could turn the population over to the opposition. The changes were seen as more far-reaching than previous challenges to his authority. The king knew that it was time fo r a politically auth entic figure, somebody who is credible in the eye of the public so he called on the leader of the Socialist Union, Al-Yousifi, as the man to ca rry responsibility for the refo rms. Since he had opposed the regime for more than two decades denouncing the “triumph of capitalism,” who would be more credible than him? But why would so meone like Al-Yousif ta ke responsibility for introducing changes he ideologically had oppos ed for more than two decades? Demands to introduce genuine democratic changes had b een resisted by the king in the late 1980s. In the 1990s, however, there was a resurgence of Islam in neighbori ng Algeria that the socialists in Morocco saw as particularly threatening. That is why they were ready to compromise with the king not only over economic policies but also over the Constitution. The reforms that they approved allowed the Ki ng the right to dissolve the parliament and

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175 recruit the first minister of a “democratically elected”8 parliament (Per sonal Interview. MJ. Fall of 2003). Moreover, the palace ( Makzn ) did not agree to provisions to ensure transparency in governance and accountability to the governed. To counter the weight of th e left, the king gave Islamist s the permission to establish their own party under the superv ision of Abdel-Kabeer Al-kat eeb, a loyalist of the palace who had sympathy to the right. The king also allowed the establishment of an Islamic party --after adamantly refusing for 20 yearsto avoid having an opposition outside the system that is purely Islamic (Personal Inte rview. BK. Fall of 2003). This would have put conservative Islam, of which he is the repres entative, against political ideological Islam that the Justice and Development Party a nd Just and Benevolence Group represented. In addition to it heightening the tension, this juxtaposition would affirm the progressive image that the king had long been so keen to portray. As much as possible, the king wanted to reduce Islam to a religion (thus deny ing the presence of a political Islam) when it became necessary to accept its inclusion in politics. However, he did it in such a way that he divided the Islamists into moderate s and radicals. The Justice and Development Party was admitted into the system (see Chart 6.1). But the Just and Benevolence Group was denied the right to participate for no ot her reason than its re fusal to recognize the monarch as a legitimate en tity (Personal Interview. FA. Fall of 2003). The Makzn remains sensitive to the opposition of the Just and Benevolence Party. 8 Members of the Justice and Development Party I interviewed say they exercised restraint and only nominated members in two-thirds of the districts for fear of being overthrown by the army. In a way they received warnings that the Algerian scenario may be repeated if they won a ma jority that would qualify them to rule. Some say prior to elections, arrangements are made between the Makzn and senior islamist to avoid embarrassing the king (Personal Interview. AH. Fall of 2003).

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176 Far from being resolved, the ambiguities in the Constitution became clear in the draft of 1996. As it existed, the Constitution had an open-ended clause that indicated that Islam is the religion of the state. With the exception of the Independence Party and Islamists who were not in the Parliament, a ll parties wanted to exclude a close-ended clause that states, ‘No law should be issued that contra dicts the sharia.’ The king interfered to remove this clause. As ambi guous as it was on this issue, the Constitution was nonetheless signed (Personal Interview. MB. Fall of 2003). Thus, the Islamists in Morocco have remained divided, and the more radical wing in the Justice and Development Group is being kept outside of policy influence. The story of what happened to the Islamists in Morocco is diffe rent from what happened in other Maghreb countries, not the least in Algeri a.The Islamist movements of the Maghreb Layachi asserts, developed in different do mestic economic and political environment, followed different patters (than those of the Mashreg ), and received different responses from their respective states. In general, the de velopment and expression of the Islamist opposition in the Maghreb has stemmed from a clas h between popular movements desiring change and conservative regimes with declining legitimacy, rather than from the simple desire to establish an Is lamic state. (Layachi in Lacey and Courey 2000:24) The advent of Islamic revivalism has ma de it difficult for any leader to reduce Islam to a religion (or reli gion to dogma) and deny its so cial and political utility. Establishing an Islamic bank has for a long ti me been the aim of Islamic groups, but it was not until the time of the tawafug (a political compromise th at occurred in the late 1980s and early 1990s) that they could bring it to the attention of the king. Islamists almost convinced the king of the idea of the Wafa Islamic Bank, which was intended to provide small or mid-level invest ors with non-interest loans, but he backed off in the last moments for political and economic reasons. He may not have wanted to give credit to

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177 Islamists. Besides, there is always the diffi culty of having banking systems operate in the same country under two different laws, an i ssue that is currently being suggested in Sudan. In Sudan, for example, the government has gauged its success of Islamization of the economy with the introduction of an Is lamic Jurisdictional Committee inside the Central Bank of Sudan (Personal Interview. AZ. Spring of 2003). There are also other practical concerns. What arrangements do na tional banks make to ensure successful incorporation in a global economy that is predominantly interest-based? King Hassan II wanted to experiment with an issue that is technically less complex, politically not sensitive, and can help allevi ate economic hardship. At one of the Hassani lessons (sessions held during the month of Ramadan at the Masjid of the Tomb), he expressed the government’s interest in wanting to administer the Zakat. Zakat is the amount of money (2.5 percent of annual inco me) that the Qur’an stipulates the rich should give to the poor.9 If distributed reasonably, this m oney is believed to contribute to resolving part of the prob lem of the poor (Personal In terview. AJ. Fall of 2003). However, the mechanism of collecting --as well as distributing-it has become problematic in a modern context that requires rationalizing/institutionalizing governmental actions. A committee, for instance, was formed to investigate the relationship between Zakat and tax (Personal Interview. AT. Fall of 2003). A school professor, who for more than a quarter of a century spearheaded the efforts to institutionalize the Zakat says neither the first minister nor the minister of Religious 9 A report once revealed that the amount of money that circulates the Moroccan banks (without being invested for a period one year) has been in the range of billions of dirhams (Personal Interview. AJ. Fall of 2003).

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178 Affairs commented on their writ ten proposal or interviewed them to verbally elaborate on the subject (Personal Interview. MB. Fallof 2003).10 He became convinced that while the king may have been “genuine,” conservative s in the government wanted to have full monopoly over what Islam really means. This has become evident in the handling of other issues, which, as apolitical as they may seem, reflected the social and economic utility of Islam. The Makzn sought to become the facilitator and guara ntor of a principled outcome rather than assume a direct partic ipatory role, that is, if they had other alternatives, given the change in political circumstances. Consequently, the Makzn had done as way with hardliners. Not long afte r the death of his father, King Mohamed IV excused Abd al-kabeer al-Madgari from the mini sterial duties of the religious affairs that he controlled over three decades. Nonetheless, this would not suffice to eliminate the contradictory nature of the Moroccan political system (Tuzi 1999; Hammoudi 1997; Sabeela 2000; Layachi in Lacey and Coury 2000). Once the nationalist spirit ha d given rise to more immedi ate and practical concerns in the 1970s, the issues of governing Morocco became more complicated rather than less complicated. External forces such as the Cold War and later on calls for economic reform forced the king to become even more pe rsonally involved in running the country. He found it increasingly difficult to stay above pol itics. The balancing act between the right and the left was no longer possible to perform without falling off the scale. There were attempts on the king's life and other forms of violence directed against his government. This period was the height of political instab ility. It was, conseque ntly, also a period in which political rights and civi l liberties were abrogated, but with some caution because 10 As apolitical as it may seem, the issue of Zakat was resisted by the minister of Religious Affairs, AbdelKabeer Al-Madgari (Personal Interview. MB. Fall of 20 03), presumably the citade l of conservative Islam.

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179 the king also realized the co sts of becoming too authoritar ian. His style of governance, therefore, is best described as sultanistic. He tried to co-o pt various factions and thus keep them in check. His way of using the So cialist Union leader to carry out liberal economic reforms is a good case in point. Towa rd the end of this period, radical Islam was perceived as the main challenge. Events in neighboring Algeri a had made both the King and the secular left aware of the danger that something like that could also happen in Morocco. The need for successful co-opta tion, therefore, was especially imminent. Even though political rights and civil liberties in the early 1990s were not violated in the same naked fashion as in earlier years, it wa s clear that people held office or lived in peace thanks to the discretion of the king. In that sense, Morocco was far from being governed democratically. The main exception to what has just been said about conditions inside Morocco is what happened in the Western Sahara. The hum an rights of the Sahr awis were violated. Aggression against the citi zens of the Western Sahara included killing, rape, displacement, and political agitat ion. But in the political climat e that his sultanistic form of rule engendered, the elite had in the end little to se t against the will of the king, whether with regard to the We stern Sahara or any other majo r policy issue. At the same time, with the fall of the Berlin Wall in 1989 and calls for democratic governance in various other places around the world, even th e king had to listen. Hence, toward the end of the 1990s, governance began to change.

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180 Democratic Governance (1999-Present) Ironically, it was the Western Sahara th at became a harbinger for the political reforms. It is a region rich in phosphates11 and has oil and gas resources that the United States. Kerr-McGee and France Total have b een exploring under a contract with the Moroccan government. Although Morocco's sovereignty over the Western Sahara has never been confirmed, the international comm unity has not been able to prevent the Moroccan government for exploiting the resour ces of the region. Because of the volatility of the situation, however, Morocco has a voided engaging corporations from other Maghreb countries and has instead relied on European or American companies. Although Europeans had always admired the ki ng’s moderate policies, they have in recent years conditioned their economic partne rship on political freedoms. This means that slowly and incrementally, democratic procedures have been introduced. Such reforms have helped attract investments a nd paved the way toward economic integration in the global economy. Vermeren asserts that any incorporation in the global economy, at least for Morocco, needed to go through Eu rope. In 1998, Morocco achieved a record two-thirds of its foreign exchange in trade with Europe, and received 65% of its foreign investments from Europe, the rest coming from the Arab world. To this should be added the fact that as much as two thirds of Moroccan imports find their way back into the European Union tax-free (Vermeren 2002:220). Finally, an important source of income remains the hard currency that Moroccan expa triates pour into the Moroccan banks every year. Between the late 1980s and early 1990s, the amount of hard currency had almost 11 Knowingly, Morocco possesses three-quarters of the world’s resources of phosphates and it is the second export of such valuable energy resour ce after the United States. The export of phosphates, with at least $2 billion a year, is provided 29.5 percent of the worl d sales in 1998 (Vermeren 2002). Though a sizable portion of the phosphates a believed to be in the Western Sahara --the disputed area, other areas close to Casablanca and the Atlas Mountains rese mble the current productive margin.

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181 doubled, from one billion to two billion U.S. dollars, almost the equivalent of the income Morocco receives from tourism (Vermeren 2002:85). This kind of economic activity comes with its own cultural baggage. For instance, it brings with it a liberal att itude that challenges the litera list (moral/poli tical) boundaries imposed by the state. Hassan II managed to infu se his version of conservatism so long as he handled a state-oriented economy, that is, during the 1960s and 1970s. The advance of the liberal economy in subsequent decades has transformed the relationship between society and state. It has pr ovided individuals with some level of independence that enhances their capabilities to demand polit ical and cultural right s. Globalization has provided opportunities -in terms of co mmunication across nati onal boundaries-for individuals, civil society actors, and international organizations to exercise influence over policy. These opportunities have necessitated re vising the contract that long governed the relationship between children and their parent s, husbands and wives, women and men in the wider public realm, not to forget th e one between subjects and ruler. Before Mohamed V became King in 1999, the state --through the hegemonic influence of Hassan II-had been reluctant to revise its relations hip with the citizenry. Instead, as previously discussed, it was mainly concerned with ma naging the horizontal relations at the elite level. With the changing economic and social c onditions, it became evid ent, for instance, that the Mudawana which handles family laws from an Islamic perspective, needed to undergo basic revisions. As soon as the le ft could get into office, it took upon its shoulders the responsibility of making these revisions. Although they were sensitive to the cultural issues, the comm unists perceived the economic factors that determine the

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182 social relationships in the Mo roccan society as paramount. Th e right was not oblivious to the economic reality but preferred to operate along the cultural component to make what it thought would be quick political gains, wh ile gradually seeking autonomy from the Istiglal Party. As expected, the left proposed a dry progr am that concentrated on policy issues and as much as possible avoided value-related topi cs that it ruled out as emotional, but which were of importance to the public. Influenced by the experience of Islamic activists in other countries, Moroccan Islamist parties adopted secular names instead of titles that signaled religious affiliation, for example, th e National Islamic Front, but they do not to seem to have changed their agenda. The right mainly the Justice and Development Party --because the Just and Benevolence Group is pr evented from political participation, gave Islamic issues (such as public morality, a nd Islamic laws) paramount importance. But the right also gave policy matters a low profile. The Independenc e Party could not strike the balance between policy and cultural authenticity so it missed playing a role it was mostly qualified for, both from a historical and polit ical perspective. By concentrating more on political pragmatism, it ignored religious emotionalism, which, according to a prominent politician in the party, characterized leaders of the caliber of A’lal Al-Fasi (Personal Interview. KG. Fall of 2003). As a result, it shied away from criticizing the Makzn's “conservative” agenda, and could not articula te a program passionately enough to reverse the apathy of the Moroccan public. Saeed Assa’di, a communist who was the secretary of Women and Family Affairs in 1999, proposed a plan, which was radica l, according to the opinion of most conservative Moroccans, for the “inclusion of women” in inheritance. (Personal

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183 Interview. SO. Fall of 2003). It put forward th e issue of revising laws of inheritance, which give women half of what men receive fr om the will of the deceased parent (or at least that is what the plan chooses to high light). It proposed cha nging divorce laws that are oppressive. It suggested se tting an age limit for girls who may rush or be forced (by their parents) into marriage, hence denying th em an opportunity to get educated before they decide to endure such responsibility and bear its consequences. Discussing the details of these provisions is beyond the sc ope of my study. Suffice it to explain how the Mudawana came into the middle of the tension be tween the left and the right -as both were fighting for a position in the newl y emerging political configuration. A representative of the Justice and Development Party (on the right) has asserted that the Development and Socialist Party (on the left) wanted to take advantage --especially after the International Conference on Women in Be ijing-to locally demolish the “concept of sanctity,” thus liberate wome n along Western ideals (Personal Interview. SO. Fall of 2003). This attempt by a small section of the el ite, largely on the left to impose its taste on the public was strongly resisted. After fa iling to change the opinion of the communists in parliament, the Islamic right resorted to the street (Personal Interview. HA. Fall of 2003). According to preliminary estimates, Islamists mobilized 1.5 million Moroccans to stop the “Marxist proposal,” as they chose to call it. Many of the people who marched through the streets were not pa rticularly radical. For inst ance, quite a large group of people sympathetic to the cen ter-right Independence Party participated, although they would not necessarily have gone along with a nu mber of the issues that the Islamic right embraces.

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184 The electoral system is major reason why the Makzn can continue its guardianship over Moroccan politics and discouraging effective communi cation between the left and the right side of the political spectrum. Prior to the el ection of 2003, the Development and Justice Party has proposed a change from the plurality, first-past -the-post system to voting-list proportional representation system All parties accepte d this proposal under the assumption it would eliminate clientelism and allow voters a chance to focus more on policy proposals and not be di stracted by slogans. However, the parties failed to realize that such a system breeds a partitioned parlia ment with no chance for any party to obtain a majority. Not surprisingly, the king --with the symbolic approval of the elected parliament-chose a non-partisa n technocrat to the position of first minister. Second, in a country with more than a 60 per cent illiteracy rate (literacy is not required to vote), the public is likely to overlook policy initiativ es and focus more on the overarching themes that transmit from the debate among contenders. The voting list proportional representati on system suited members of the Justice and Development Party who do not have social connectedness --at least nothing comparable to that of Independence Party. But the party members can appeal to the masses with an agenda to stop the left from eroding the cultural identity of the nation and overcome the reluctance of the center to utiliz e its (religious) potenti al. The left preferred a partitioned parliament rather than see anot her party gain a parliamentary majority. After all, the left figured since it was the ruling party, it is likely to be penalized and a vote against it was likely to go to the Islamists. This arrangement would hurt the Independence

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185 Party most because being the center party; it was likely to lose votes to the Islamists.12 Under those circumstances, Islamists woul d have won an overwhelming majority had they not restricted themselves to nominations in only 60 percent of the districts (Personal Interview. HA. Fall of 2003). The Islamists ne vertheless realize that people who vote for them are not necessarily committed to thei r cultural/intellectual project, but may ideologically be passing through their political zone. Islamists face less difficulty entering parliaments than intruding on cu ltural and intellectual domains that for a long time were dominated by groups on the le ft side of the spectrum.13 They detached themselves from the traditional population by defying sufism a nd did not develop the intellectual impetus to comfortably relate to music, art, sciences, movie industry, scholarly circles, and so on. To avoid the political upheaval that the issue of the Mudwana might cause, the king preferred discussing the issue behind closed doors. He formed a committee of secularly educated elites and religious scholars. For r easons discussed in th e chapter 4, pressures that they experienced from out side, that is, beyond the bounda ries of their meeting room, the committee members spent months massagi ng the issues before they would announce a stalemate. The king assigned a different committee the duty of reconceptualizing the provisions of the Mudawana in a way that makes it relevant to today’s age. The king is keen on ensuring that the efforts of the adviso rs do not stumble a second time. Even if it does, under no circumstance will the Makzn take the Mudawana to parliament because it 12 A senior of the Independence Party told me on condition of anonymity that he resisted the idea of proportional representation, but the party would not listen to him. He asserts that commitment of his party to such a notion is an unforgivable blunder (Personal Interview. AG. Fall of 2003). 13 People threw themselves in cultural enclaves by way of protecting their Islamic identity, only to realize that is the surest way to eroding one’s identity. An identity cannot remain static; it gains immunity through interaction.

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186 deprives the king of his reconc iliatory role, reveals the cont radictions in the political system, and presumably upsets the balance of power. The Mudawana has become a thorn in Moroccan polit ics. It is at the height of the cultural divide that has long dominated the country. A member of the Socialist Union asserts that the Mudawana requires careful assessment because the society is too traditional to accept radical changes (Persona l Interview. HN. Fall of 2003). Why has the society remained traditional after 50 year s of a presumed attempt by Hassan II to modernize it? In spite of th e proliferation of mass communication and exposure to various cultural schemes, is society really “traditional” or is th e problem a political stagnation that is fixating societies in the swamp of traditionalism? A lack of commitment to democracy on both sides of the ideological spectrum is definitely a factor. Parties on both the right and the left are not embedded in society, hence the meagerness of their chance of reaching power th rough democratic channels. While parties in the middle tend to use th eir strong Islamic background to advance a national vision, parties on the right or left rema in to adjust to the national agenda set by others. This is a reason w hy their commitment to a more democratic system of governance continues to be more superficial. They don't have the patience to wait for their turn within the rules of the system because they cannot muster enough support to challenge the agenda set by the king and the middle of the po litical spectrum. The first five years of democratic gove rnance in Morocco has revealed a feature that is common in most Islamic countries faci ng the tension between a literal and liberal tradition: the need for a strong center to e nhance political stability. Morocco, more so than Sudan, has been caught in the whirlwinds caused by the political storm between

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187 leftist and rightist tendencies. The political system has become slowly more democratic. The newly adopted electoral system may he lp retain political stability. But because finding a stable majority is not guaranteed, there is always the risk of policy stalemates or deadlocks. The Mudawana issue is a case in point. It has been taken out of politics. because no agreement could be reached. Even the experts have found it hard to reach consensus. In the end, it might be the king who will have to make the final stand on the issue, one that would expose him more to the differences of opinion that exist among the population and possibly even damage his legi timacy as the Leader of the Faithful. Whatever happens with this and other controversial issues that no doubt will arise in a more democratic polity, th ere is still a good measure of po litical stability at the level of the system itself. What is more, political rights and civil liberties are no longer stepped upon as whimsically as in previous periods. That is not to say that Morocco is a model of respect for human rights. Some Moroccan Mus lims feel that their civil liberties are violated in the ‘passive’ sens e because of what they perceive as the watering down of their sense of morality. The most serious chal lenge to human rights in Morocco has come as a result of the bombing, attributed to terrorists associated with Al-Qaeda, in Casablanca in 2003. It is not cl ear whether or not it will se t off a much stricter police regime, but the government is obviously under pressure from the international community, not the least the Bush Administra tion in Washington, to be vigilant against extremists. Despite these incidents, Morocco's track record has improved. As seen in a historic perspective, pol itics in Morocco is less "off-balan ce" than as in the case in Sudan. Conclusions The real challenge that remains in Mo rocco is for politics to become a mass phenomenon. The political parties have remain ed elitists. Even t hough the parties in the

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188 middle may be more embedded in society, they have not managed to incorporate the Sufi periphery nor raise political c onsciousness to a point where or dinary citizens participate in a reasoned manner. The reason for this inad equacy is Morocco’s long history of being a country where politics has been dominate d by the king and his need to play one political group against another. Politics has been horizonta l without any real accountability rather than vertical with some form of public accountability. It is this latter governance dimension that remains undeveloped in Morocco. Issues such as the Cold War and the West ern Sahara that helped shape politics are no longer as important, but relati ons with the rest of the worl d have grown in significance and will have a more direct influence on what is happening, as the past five years have aptly illustrated. Trade and terrorism and their impact on national politics are issues that the government in Rabat can no longer ignore. These external relations will no doubt keep the tensions between the literal and liber al traditions alive. Given the distinctive versus diffusive understanding of Islam, that is, between “high” Islam and “low” Islam, moral issues will continue to be important f odder in Moroccan politic s for the foreseeable future. Whether or not the country will be able to sail through these difficult waters without capsizing is too early to say.

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189 CHAPTER 7 TOWARDS AN EMBEDDED DEMOCRACY MODEL This dissertation has argued that the pr incipal challenge to democratization in Islamic countries is to find a balance between the Islamic and Western legacies --what I call the literal and liberal traditions-that ch aracterize the contemporary Muslim world. It is the imbalance or lack of embeddedness in both these traditions that makes countries such as Morocco and Sudan “off-balance,” or enduring political inst ability and having a lack of respect for political rights and civil lib erties. In this situati on, there is always the risk of extremist responses by either secula r or fundamentalist religious actors, swinging the pendulum even further in one direction or the other. The state has provided these modernist forces with disproportionate power th ey could use to separa te their efforts from the geographic periphery, mainly dominated by Sufis. Thus, the political struggle in the Muslim world can no longer be seen by merely investigating an ideological continuum, it has to include political inco rporation of the periphery in a cross-cutting manner. My work has centred on two countries, Mo rocco and Sudan, which have dealt with the task that the state had undertaken, oftentim es at odds with the so ciety, to reconcile the literal and liberal traditions out of circumstances that are both similar and different. The French colonized Morocco, the British col onized Sudan. While the French spared no effort to turn the linguist difference between the Berbers and the Arab s into an ethnic one, the British succeeded in erecti ng a racial hierarchy that dr ove forever a wedge between Arabism and Africanism in Sudan. Morocco ha s the regional conflict of western Sahara that started in 1975, the first rebellion in southern Sudan starte d in 1955. The following

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190 observations will be made about these simila rities and differences, and also will place these two cases in a comparative Islamic cont ext. In doing so, I will address the following questions: What Difference Does Peripheral Loca tion in the Islamic World Make? The dialectic between the Mashreg and the Maghreb, that is, the competition between the Abbasid and the Umayyad, con tinued over 1,200 years, allowed Morocco an opportunity to centralize its polit ical authority, Sudan’s periph eral location in the Islamic world denied it the dynamics it needed to cons olidate its religious authority, needless to say, to make it central. (The only time Suda n received any recognition from a centralized religious authority is when th e Ottomans collaborated with the Egyptians to import slaves from southern Sudan at the end of 19th century.) Also, the military confrontation with Europeans --mainly Spanish and Portuguese-made the Moroccan king the bastion in the face of Crusaders invading the Is lamic territory from the Med iterranean Sea. This rivalry was gradually dissolved with the French coloniza tion that spared no effort to assimilate at least the Moroccan elite into European cultu re. Sudan may have been saved the “evil of Westernization,” subsequently Sudan inher ited a range of ideological polarization narrower or less strenuous than that experi enced by Morocco. The ideological spectrum in Sudan extends from Islamically liberal to Islamically literate, th at of Morocco extends from westernly liberal to Islami cally literate (see Chapter 4). Sudan went the full ideological course, thus allowing itself --at least theoretically-to overcome the secular/theocratic dichotomy and entertain a liberal/literalist continuum, a position Morocco is qualified for intell ectually, but besieged from politically (see Chapter 2), Morocco managed through the manipulative authority of the king to go center-right when the political circumstances both nationally and internationally favored

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191 the left. The country then did a shift center-left when region al dynamics favored the right. At the time of independence, Morocco had one party, Istiglal Part y, which occupied the middle ground. Though critical of an undemocratic practice of the Makzan, the Istiglal Party never disputed the author ity of the king as a Leader of the Faithful. Moroccans very strategically used this dualit y to maintain stability while facilitate political dynamics. Overcoming the left was not as easy in Moro cco because it had intellectual presence, as well political weight. However, w ith the fall of the Berlin wall in 1989, the left needed to adjust its watch. It sought a marriage of convenience with the king, who needed popular support in the face of increasing popularity of Islamists, who pulled their heads out of the Istiglal Party that had she ltered them for decades. Sudan’s middle ground was divided between the DUP and Umma, parties that were dominated by sharifs. They were the equivale nt of the monarch, but without a throne. For ideological reasons that I discussed in Chapte rs 5 and 6, the DUP was closer to the left end of the spectrum and the Umma to the ri ght end of the spectrum (see Figure 4.1). The lack of cooperation between the two mid-of-spectrum partie s made them susceptible to seduction from either extreme. Also, the di sjuncture between the elites and the masses within these traditional parties emasculated the ability of the leaders to influence change that would make this religious base better receptive of the rights of minority group that lives in geographically distinct region, sout hern Sudan. Inasmuch as the issue of an Islamic constitution was central to the political turmoil in Sudan, it explains the difficulty Muslims are having in adjusting to the transf ormation from a community of believers to citizens of a nation-state.

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192 What Difference Does Political Stability Make to the Respect of Political Rights and Civil Liberties? The ideological tension did not disrupt th e social fabric in Morocco because the society is culturally homogeneous (it nonethel ess affected its ability to handle the Western Sahara issue in a rational manner). As low as it appears, the ideological tension has put Sudan in total disarray because the soci ety is culturally heterogeneous. In addition to reasons I discussed earlier, I want to say that Morocco has succeeded in better utilizing its geographical position and its history due to its low degree of cultural heterogeneity, mainly linguist differences between Berbers and Arabs that the French spared no effort to exploit. Sudan has almost lost an opport unity to capitalize on its rich cultural constituency. As much as it is an asset, cult ural diversity has fed in the hands of ethnic and religious entrepreneurs who are as effective --from a clos e or a large distance-in disrupting the nation building process. The presence of a centralized religious authority allowed the Moroccan authority monopoly (over cultural symbols) that it coul d use to draw dissent within a reasonable range, hence build institutions robust enough to do development. To the extent that this centrality of power can be useful, it gives th e state manipulative aut hority over the polity and makes it dependent on extreme coercive me asures in dealing w ith the periphery, for example the Western Sahara. The absence of a strong central authority in Sudan opened the door for ideological polari zation that extended from the extreme left to the extreme right. Modernists forces, be it the left (secula rs) and the right (Islamists), have ideological appeal but lack the popular mandate. Therefore, they use the institutions of the modernist state to affirm their authority. Thwarting the various process of deliberation has deprived the Sudanese state of a machinery, civic so ciety, it could have used to synchronize

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193 variegate voices or space it could have rec onfigured to allow for a reasonable range of political socialization. The state destroyed the polity by not giving the political opposition a leeway to regroup and peacefully a ddress their legitimate grievances. The more the state elites insisted on dra gging the locus of power to coincide with the center of politics the more politics became dysfunctional. Only through armed revolt -this time from the barefooted peasants in Darf ur-did elites recognize that the history of Sudan remains greater than that reached by id eological Islam, and its geography is wider than what was limited by the sectarian domai n defined by the British. Despite the fact that traditional parties have difficulty incorpor ating the majority of the Sufi periphery, the brief moments of collaboration that they en joyed ameliorated the tension between the peasants of Darfur, who sympathized with th e center-left (DUP), and pastoralists who paid allegiance to the center-right (Umma Party). To grant themselves a foothold in Darfur, the Islamists exploited this vocationa l difference; consequently, it took the form of a primordial conflict, Africans versus Arab s, that renders as s econdary the religious differences between Christians and Muslims (see Chapter 5). The ability of northerners to rule --a lmost five decades undisputedly-depended on their ability to exploit the religious (and et hnic) cleavage between the west and the south. It wasn’t until they were blatantly discrimi nated against that the people of Darfur, e.g., realized that the idea of an “Islamic state” was nothing more than a subterfuge Islamists (from the northern part of the country) us ed to continue their hegemony over the periphery. By eliminating bureaucracy, state elit es (Islamists) have managed to use public institutions as a vehicle for private wealth. Not only so, but they also ceased to extend health and educational services to the poor. In contrast, the Moroccan bureaucracy still

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194 enjoys relative autonomy in the distributi on of resources; albeit it gives the nobility preferential treatment1 and erects an infrastructure th at aims at gradually liking the coastal cities to the i nner towns (Vermeren 2002). What Lessons, If Any,May Be Drawn from the Cases of Morocco and Sudan for the Rest of the Muslim World? It is fair to say that international acto rs during the Cold War had no commitment to democracy, only political stability could he lped superpowers secure their economic interest. After the heat of communism passe d (early 1970s), and before the breeze of Islamic Revivalism (mid to late 1980s), both Morocco and Sudan managed to stay in the middle part of the ideological spectrum. While taking coerci ve measures nationally, they facilitated development by attracting money from international agencies. Though it may be argued that their dependence on external s ources influenced their political carelessness nationally (that is, lack of concern for democra tic proceedings), the fact remains that it is in that period that Moroccan and Sudanese authorities attracted the most finances. Morocco was endowed with institu tional stability helped it ma ke sustainable investments, as well as solicit funds th at helped it fight the war in the Western Sahara.2 Sudan’s inability to draw dissent with in a reasonable range caused it to waste a huge potential for growth, while failing to deflect the human a nd material cost of civil war. Both the 1 Failure of king Hassan II to reform agricultural la nds distributional system reflects the state’s intent to sustain the feudal aristocratic system that gave rise to the monarchy in the first place. 2 Zoubir contends, “The Western Sahara conflict had never brought the superpower close to a confrontation. However, unlike Moscow’s genuinely ne utral attitude toward the conflict, Washington had pursued a rather contradictory policy despite its offi cial neutrality, because thou gh unwilling to recognize Morocco’s sovereignty over the Western Sahara, it had accepted its administration. More importantly, the United States has provided Morocco with considerable military and technical support since the beginning of the war” (Zoubir 1990:233).

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195 Moroccan and the Sudanese authorities used their regional conflic ts to dismiss as irrelevant the opposition’s demand for democracy. However, terms like democracy and dictatorship do not mean much unless we examine the dynamics at both national and pa rty politics (that is, go beyond the surface to investigate the relationship among and in-between parties). Nimeiri, the military dictator who ruled Sudan between the years 1969 a nd 1985 thwarted political dynamics at the national level through his adoption of the one-p arty system. Many Sudanese activists and scholars argue, at some stage, that the Socialist Union Party respected democratic proceedings --more than traditional parties th at limited their understanding of democracy to the procedural not the substantive aspect of democracy, that is, the voter’s right of participation ends by casting a ballot on the day of electi on. Also, by virtue of being liberal and secular, the Socialist Union Pa rty was more accommodating of the cultural diversity of the Sudanese nations than trad itional parties that were divided along ethnic and religious lines. For as long they managed to maintain a politically moderate political agenda, state elites benefited from the Sufi leaders who preferred indirect access to politics. King Hassan II of Morocco and Nimeiri of Sudan made themselves indispensable by exploiting ideological differences at the elite level. Elites, be it modernists on either the left or the right of ideological spectrum or even conservative, preferred an easy route to power, one that would save them the effort of having to communicate with the masses whic h they perceived as a “sack of potatoes,” to borrow Karl Marx’s expre ssion. (We must not forget the gap in education and power, an important factor which I allude to in Ch apter 4.) Depending on where they are in the ideological spectrum, elites allowed themselves to be played in the hands of despots, both

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196 military and civilian. Modernist elites accompan ied army officers in their occupation of the national palace in Sudan, and conserva tives entouraged sectarian leaders to ceremonial events. Apart from parasitic and opportunistic tendencies, the absence of a lowest common denominator, that is, agreem ent about basic issues such sovereignty, national unity, respect of human dignity, and so forth, frustrated the democratic process, which as ideologically moderate as it is was not sustainable because of the weak incorporation of the peri phery to the center. What Might be the Ways and Means of Achieving a More Embedded Form of Democracy in the Islamic World, Based on the Experiences of the Two Countries Studied Here? This dissertation has identif ied two tendencies that influenced political stability. These are petal/fugal tendency (ideology) and the hierarchy/rebellion proclivity (power), which were influenced by spectrum of interp retation and history (see Chapters 3 and 4), the interplay between these factors was explai ned in Chapter 2. The first can be overcome using a bicameral system, the second adopting a presidential system, at least in the case of Sudan (since it does not have a monarch). A bicameral system allows Sufis to voluntary gravitate toward the center. It redu ces ideological polarization and closes the gap between elites and the masses, thus fusing representativeness and efficiency A presidential system may have the effect of stabilizing a countr y like Sudan; more importantly allows it to integrate its polity in a non-discriminatory manner. For instance, a ticket with a president representative of western Sudan, and a vice from southern Sudan, carries seventy percent of the populous vote. The relationship between power and ideo logy is synonymous with the relationship between identity and development. Without re shaping identity it may be difficulty to reformulate the polity. The recently libera ted Amazigh culture and still incarcerated

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197 Nubian cultures can play a constructive ro le in helping Morocco and Sudan, respectively, regain their pre-Islamic and non-Islamic heritage while being loyal or possibly reinvigorating Islamic culture. In conclusion, governance in Muslim countries can prove elusive unless a cultural reorient ation occurs that democratica lly links the individual with his inner self, the society w ith its various organs, and th e state with its variegate components. A balanced socio-political phi losophy -as the linchpi n of my projectrevitalizes the fluidity between the liberalist and the literalist traditions through a gradual process of political socializ ation that widens the scope of governance beyond sec/theo dichotomy to entertain lib/lit duality. (T he wider the realm of governance the more embedded is democracy.) It is yet to be s een if the globalization political dynamics will facilitate a move to a humanist ideal that stresses individual right s as an incentive to fulfilling communal duties, thereby establishing footholds for an “embedded democracy” model as a necessary conditi on to doing sustainable development in the Muslim world. As progressive as we would want it to be, th is is a process of political maturity that follows an elusive labyrinthine path.

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198 APPENDIX A GLOSSARY ‘Alim (pl. ‘ulam’): a learned man, in pa rticular one learnd in Islamic legal and religious studies. ‘Aql: “reason,” “reasoning”; in Islamic law, systematic reasoning is not limited to qiys (q.v.). Amr (also emir): a general or other military commander; after classical ‘Abbs times many independent rulers held this title; sometimes assigned to members of the ruler’s family. Dhimmi (also zimmi): a “protected subject,” follower of a religion tolerated by Islam, within Muslim ruled territory, cf. ahl al -kitb. The protection is called “dhimmah.” Fiqh: jurisprudence; the disc ipline of elucidating the Shar ah (q.v.); also the resultant body of rules. A faqh is an exponent of fiqh. mn: religious faith; conviction, which a Muslim acknowledges both inwardly and outwardly through his actions. Jazb: a state of Divine ecstasy. Jihad: war in accordance with the Sharah (q.v.) against unbelievers. Mahdi: According to the belief of Muslims, he is a descendent of the Prophet from the lineage of Al-Hassan, who will join Jesus (the son of Mary) in his fight against the wrong Jewish Messiah. Many revol utionaries in the Muslim world returned to this messianic tradition in their fight against tyrants through the ages. Sharah: the entire body of rules guiding th e life of a Muslim. In law, ethics, and etiquette; sometimes called Sacred Law (or Canon Law), The provisions of the Shar ah are worked out through the discipline of fiqh (q.v.). Sharfs: Descendents of the Prophet through hi s daughter Ftima and his son-in-law Ali Silsila: spiritual chain. Sfi: an exponent of Sfism (Ar. Tasawwuf), the commonest term for that aspect of Islam which is based on the mystical life. Sufi Islam: “syncretic” Islam, one that coex isted with and was influenced by indigenous traditional beliefs.

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199 Sunnah: received custom, particularly that a ssociated with Muhammad; it is embodied in hadth (q.v.). Zawyia (or Khalwa): traditional school of religious sciences.

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200 APPENDIX B INDEPTH INTERVIEWS WITH ELITES SCHOLARS, AND ACTIVISTS: MOROCCO AA: Dean of King Hassan II Islamic School AA: Department of Tax administrator AA: Head of the liberal arts sc hool education section in Rabat AA: Representative of th e General Accountant Office AB: Justice and Development MP, Agriculture Committee AB: Justice and Development Party, MP AG: King Hassan’s Arabic teacher and consultant AG: Minister of Economics, 1980-1984 AM: Former minister of cultural affairs AM: Former Moroccan Ambassador to Sudan AR: Head of a religious group, Sharia professor AR: Head of the high school curricula committee FA: Justice and Benevolence Group spokesperson GM: Head master of Dicard French School HG: Movie Critic HH: Editor of al-Asr newspaper, Justice and Development Party HN: Head of Moroccan writers group KN: Member of Development and Socialist Party MA: Distinguished Professor, s pokesperson of Socialist Party

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201 MA: Minister of Cultural Affairs, Socialist Union MA: Political science professor MB: Dean of the Liberal Arts Department, Independence Party MB: Head of Media Department MG: King’s Economic Consultant MK: Former Human Rights Organization Pr esident, political science professor MR: Head of Justice and Development parliamentary group MY: General Manager of Economist (a magazine considered the flagship of liberalism) NK: Head of the Women Independence Group, MP NY: Justice and Benevolence Party OG: One of few people who signed Morocco’s independence document SO: Vice Chairman of the Justice and Development Party TA: Justice Department official TA: Philosophy professor, member of Sufi group

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202 APPENDIX C INDEPTH INTERVIEWS WITH ELITES SCHOLARS, AND ACTIVISTS: SUDAN AA: An activist among Ansar group AA: Architect of Addis Ababa Agreement, Head of Regional Council (southern Sudan) AA: Chairman of the political science department AB: Friedrick Foundation (German funded NGOs) AB: Political science professor AB: Teachers Union AH: Umma Party, Former Attorney General AJ: Retired Judge, legal consultant of Nimeiri AM: Minister of Defense, Vice chairman Umma Party AS: Former minister of heath DH: Retired judge, former minister of education FZ: Communist Party GO: Southern elite, educator, and prominent politician GS: Human Rights representative GS: National Islamic Front HA: Former President of Omdurman University, head of Sufi group HB: Supreme Court Judge IS: National Islamic Front

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203 KZ: Member of Communist Party MA: Deputy minister of education SM: Democratic Unionist Party SM: Former president of Sudan SM: Tribal Chieftain (Darfur) SS: Ministry of Education TZ: National Islamic Front YA: Retired army commander

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204 APPENDIX D ABBREVIATIONS DOP: Declaration of Principles DUP: Democratic Unionist Party ICF: Islamic Charter Front IGADD: Intergovernmental Author ity on Drought and Development NDA: National Democratic Alliance NIF: National Islamic Front NSR: National Salvation Revolution PDF: Popular Defense Forces SCP: Sudanese Communist Party SPLA/M: Sudan People’s Libe ration Army/Movement SSIM/A: South Sudan Independence Movement/Army SUP: Umma Party of Sudan

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215 LIST OF REFERENCES: ARABIC Abd al-Rahman, Taha. Al Amal Adeeni Watajdeed Al Aql Ad-dar al-Baida: Al Markz al-Shagafi al-Arabi, 1997. Abd al-Rahman, Taha. Sua’l al-Aklaq: Musaha ma fi al-Nagd al-Akl agi lil-Hadasa alGarbeya Ad-dar al-Baida: Al Mark z al-Shagafi al-Arabi, 2000. Abu-Zayd, Nasr H. Al-Khetab wa-al-Ta’wheel Ad-dar al-Baida: Al-M arkz al-Shagafi alArabi, 2000. Abu-Zayd, Nasr. Al itigah al-A gli fi Attafseer: Derasa fi Gadiyat al-Majaz fi al-Qur’an ind al-Mutazila Beirut: al-Markz al-S hagafi al-Arabi, 2003. Abu-Zayd, Nasr. Mafhoom Annas: Derasa fi alum al-Kur’an Beirut: al-Markz al-Shagafi al-Arabi, 1996. Al Hussein Wa Aza. Nasha’t Al Haraka Al Shagafia Al Amazigeya Bil Maghreb: 19911967 Rebat: Matba’t El M aarif Al Jadida, 2000. Al-Gebli, Mohamed. Addaula wal-Welaya walMajal fi Al-Maghreb al-Waseet: a’laig wa-Tafa’ul Ad-dar al-Baida: Dar Tubgal lil-Nashr, 1997. Al-Jabri, Mohamed. Al-aghl al-Aklagi al-A rabi: Derasa Tahlelya Nagdya lenuzm alGeyam fe-al-Shagafa al-Arabeya Addar al-Baida: Al-Markz al-Shagafi al-Arabi, 2001. Al-Jabri, Mohamed. Mushkelat Attaleem Bimaghreb Ad-dar al-Baida: Dar Annashr alMaghrebya, 1986. Al-Urwee Abdallah. Mugmal Tareekh al-Maghreb 3 vols. Addar al-Baida: Al-Markz alShagafi al-Arabi, 2000. Arkoun, Mohamed. Al Fikr Al-U suli Wa-Istahalt Attaseel: Nahu Tarik Akr Lilfikr AlIslami Trans. Hasim Salih. Beirut: Dar Al Saqi, 1999. Arkoun, Mohamed. Ma’rik Min Ajl al-A nsana fi Assiyaqat Al-Islameya Trans. Hasim Salih. Beirut: Dar Al Saqi, 2001. Arkoun, Mohamed. Min al-Ijtiha ila Nagd al-Agl al-Islami Trans. Hasim Salih. Beirut: Dar Al Saqi, 1993.

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216 Aseed, Ahmed. Al Mazigeya Fi Al Kitab Al Islam Al Siyasi Radmak: Matba’t Al Sabah Al Jadida, 2000. Assarafi, Abd al-Majeed. Al-Islam Bain Arresala wa-Tareek Beirut: Dar Attalea, 2001. Azzahi, Nur addeen. Azzauya wa al-Hazib : al-Islam wa-Siyasa fi al-Mugtamah alMaghrabi. Afregya Assharg: al-Maghreb, 2003. Dareef, Mohamed. Al-Ahzab Aseyaseya al-Maghrebya: Men Seyag al-Muwagha ela Seyag Attawafug (1999-1934) Addar al-Baida: Mans hourat al-Magala alMaghrebya lea’lm al-Igtmah’ Aseyasi, 2001. Galyohn, Burhan. Nagd Aseyasa: Addaula wa-adeen Al-mo’sasa al-Arabeya Lldrasat wa-Nashr: Beirut, 1991. Gonoushi, Rashid. Hugoug al-Muwatana: Hugou g ghayr al-Muslim fi al-Mujtama’ alIslami Vol. 9. Herndon: Silsilat Qa daya al fikr al Islami, 1993. Haj Hamad, Mohamed Abu al-Gasim. Nahu Wi faq Watani Sudani: Ruya’ Istrategia Khartoum: Markz Adirasat Al Istrategia,1998. Harb, Ali. Al istilab wa al-i rtida: al-Islam bain Rujah Ga roudi wa Nasr Hamid Abu-Zaid Ad-dar al-Baida: Al Markz al-Shagafi al-Arabi, 2000. Harb, Ali. Hadith Annehayat: Futuhat Alaulama wa-Ma’zig al-Haweya Ad-dar al-Baida: Al Markz al-Shagafi al-Arabi, 1997. Howaidi, Fahme. Muwatenoon la-dhmeyon Beirut: Dar al-Shoroog, 1999. Kabag, Ibrahim. Hasad Al Hasheem 2003. Mohamed, Sulayman M. Assudan: Huroob al-Mawarid wa-alhauya London: Dar Cambridge lilnashr, 2000. Nugud, Mohamed. Gadaya lil-demograteya fi al-Sudan: al-Mutagirat wa-attahdeyah Khartoum: Dar Aza lil-Nashr wa-Tauzi’, 2002. Salsabela, Mohamed. Lil-Seyasa bil-Siyasa: fi Attashreeh Asseyasi Ad-dar al-Baida: Afregya Assharg, 2000. Taha, Mahmoud M. Nahu Mashrou’h Mustagbali lilislam Beirut: Dar Girtas, 2002. Turabi, Hassan. Aseyasa wa-Hukm: Annuzum Assultaney bayn al-Ausool wa-Sunan alWagi’h Beirut: Dar Assagi, 2003. Tuzi, Mohamed. Al Malakiya Wal Islam Asiyasi Fi Al Maghreb Trans. Mohamed Hatemi, and Khalid Shukrawi. Addar Al Biyda: Radmac, 1999.

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217 Vermeren, Pierre. Maghreb al-Marahala al-Intigaliya Trans. Ali Ayat Ahmed. Addar alBaida: Manshurat Tariq, 2002.

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218 BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH I was born in Evanston, Illinois, in Ma y 1965. My family moved back to Sudan when I was 3 years old. I attended San Francis, a Catholic missionary school in the city of Khartoum. In addition to teaching scien tific subjects in E nglish, the school placed emphasis on discipline. I resisted the conform ity that the Catholic priests implied through their doctrinal appro ach to knowledge. By the time I reached high school, I had to decide between going either into medicine or engineering. Since my fath er was a professor of engineering, civil engineering was my obvious c hoice. I entered the engine ering department at the University of Khartoum; I pursued a master’s degree in structural engineering at the Illinois Institute of Technology. I then worked as a structural engineer with Carl Walker Engineers in Kalamazoo, Michigan. In Kalamazoo I met Omar Badaoud, a chemistry student, who occasionally volunteered to lead the prayers at the city mosque. His recitation of the Qur’an and uniqueness of style captured my attention. He had received his peda gogical training in Jeddah from a sheik who had the shortest link of recitation to the Prophet Mohamed (PBUH). I then became interested in studying with the sheik, but I needed; to completely memorize the Qur’an, that is to say; memo rize the 6,666 verses of Islam’s holy book to memory. It seemed like a big hurdle, but I fe lt I could achieve this memorization without

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219 much difficulty because I had a talent fo r memorizing long passage. I memorized the Qur’an in 100 days; setting a record for hum anity and Muslim generations to come. The Qur’an did not provide answers for the ontological questions I was asking, probably because I treated it as a manual of govern ance rather than a scri pturalist text that provided man with the balance needed to seek answers for his own problems --a correction in the right direction. However, until that point, it was not clear to me which discipline to further pursue I the social sciences. In 1997, I entered the depa rtment of economics at the University of Florida, only to find out that economists --i n their attempt to modulate human behavior-were emulating engineers. Michael Chege, the director for African st udies at that time, suggested that I major in polit ical science, and Leslie Anderson recommended me for the doctorate program in that field. I entered the program in 2001. In this field I could explore the dynamics that govern the rela tionship between man and his inner self, investigate the factors that had for a long time characteri zed the strenuous relationship between the individual and th e community, between religion and politics, as well as examine the fluidity between traditionalism and modernity. I was destined to bear the burden of tryi ng to reconcile the tension between the two from the day of my birth. My father is a de scendent of the great leader of the Baggara, Madibbo Ali. My mother is the daughter of the first governor of Khartoum after the British left, Ahmed Mekki. That definitely had its imprints in my character. Unlike some of my siblings who chosen one characteristic over the other, I was determined to make the best of both modernity and traditionalis m. Only time will tell if I will succeed.

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220 Apart from the difficulty that I encountered in overcoming the cultural embeddedness of the program, the intellectual training process was cumbersome. I believe intellectuality by nature is distur bing and unsettling, because it forces us to challenge our prejudices and e xpects of us nothing less than fu lfilling our humanist ideal. Now that I have reached the final stages of obtaining my doctorate, I can say that this was a jubilating and rewa rding experience. In addition to teaching, I plan to establis h a consultancy firm that specializes in issues that relate to democr atization, developmental admi nistration, policy evalution, and conflict mediation. I hope to es tablish the consultancy in Dubai because it has become a center of cultural interaction aspiring to be a point of intellectual correspondence. My ultimate goal is to establish a prestigious so cial science institute in Khartoum that contributes to the unity of the African contin ent through the political socialization of its future leaders. I just fear that politics will consume my energies before I fulfill my academic dreams. If it does, that is the will of Allah, the Merciful and the most Compassionate.


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ISLAM, DEMOCRACY, AND GOVERNANCE:
SUDAN AND MOROCCO IN A COMPARATIVE PERSPECTIVE

















By

WALEED MOUSA


A DISSERTATION PRESENTED TO THE GRADUATE SCHOOL
OF THE UNIVERSITY OF FLORIDA IN PARTIAL FULFILLMENT
OF THE REQUIREMENTS FOR THE DEGREE OF
DOCTOR OF PHILOSOPHY

UNIVERSITY OF FLORIDA


2005

































Copyright 2005

by

Waleed Mousa

































There is not a single night in which I do put my head over the pillow without thinking of
the poor in my nation and in the world in large. It is to those impoverished people, to my
parents who helped me reach this level of conscientiousness, to my wife whose love
helped me overcome the agony, and to my children whose heavenly spirit helped sustain
my soul that I dedicate this dissertation.





Waleed Madibbo
















TABLE OF CONTENTS

page

LIST O F FIG U RE S .... ........................... ............ vi

ABSTRACT ............... ..................... ......... .............. vii

CHAPTER

1 AN OVERVIEW .............. ................. ........... .................. ..... ....

2 ISLAM AND DEM OCRACY ......................................................... ............... 12

Political Authority in Islam Prior to M odernity ..................................... .... .....14
Modernization and Colonialism: The Creation of "the Other" .................................23
Islamic Revivalism : Adaptation or Retreat ............................ ...... ............... 34
Modernity and modernization: different notions and definitions.............................39

3 ISLAM AND THE POLITICS OF STATE FORMATION: SUDAN AND
MOROCCO IN HISTORICAL PERSPECTIVE.....................................................46

Centripetal and Centrifugal Tendencies in Pre-colonial Days .................................47
Institutional Basis of "Obedience" .... ............. ... .............. 48
Proximity of the Magreb to Islamic Religious Authority ........................... ........48
Tripartite of Power in M orocco ........................... ............................ ... 54
Sudan's Limited Experience with Central Authority ...........................................57

4 SPECTRUM OF INTERPRETATIONS AND SOCIO-POLITICAL
PH IL O SO PH Y ........................ .. ........................ .. .... ........ ........ 73

Traditional Leaders in Modern Clothes ........................................ ...............90
Can M odern Rationality Shape New Religiosity? ............ ... ...................................99
C o n clu sio n s.................................................... ................ 1 13

5 GOVERNANCE CHALLENGES IN ISLAMIC COUNTRIES: THE CASE OF
SU D A N ........................................................ ................. 117

Sudan's Travel Along the Full Ideological Spectrum .............................................119
Secular G overnance 1956-1972...................................................... .................. 120
Sultanistic Governance 1973-1985...................................................... ............... 127









Religious Governance 1989-Present............................................... .................. 143
C o n c lu sio n s......................................................................................................... 1 5 5

6 GOVERNANCE CHAPTER IN ISLAMIC COUNTRIES: THE CASE OF
M O R O C C O .....................................................................................................1 5 9

N nationalist Governance (1961-1974) .................................................................... 161
Sultanistic Governance(1975-99) ....... .................. ...... ...............167
Dem ocratic Governance (1999-present)........................................ ...... ............. 180
C o n c lu sio n s......................................................................................................... 1 8 7

7 TOWARDS AN EMBEDDED DEMOCRACY MODEL............. ................189

What Difference Does Peripheral Location in the Islamic World Make?................190
What Difference Does Political Stability Make to the Respect of Political Rights
and C ivil L iberties? .. ........ .... ... ......... ..... .... .............. ......................... 192
What Lessons, If Any, May Be Drawn from the Cases of Morocco and Sudan for
the R est of the M uslim w orld? ......................................................... .................. 194
What Might Be the Ways and Means of Achieving a More Embedded Form of
Democracy in the Islamic World, Based on the Experiences of the Two
C countries Studied H ere? .............................................. ............................. 196

APPENDIX

A G L O S SA R Y .................................................................................. .................... 19 8

B INDEPTH INTERVIEWS WITH ELITES, SCHOLARS, AND ACTIVISTS:
M O R O C C O ..............................................................................................................2 0 0

C INDEPTH INTERVIEWS WITH ELITES, SCHOLARS, AND ACTIVISTS:
SU D A N ........................................................ ................. 202

D A B B R E V IA T IO N S ......................................................................... ...................204

BIBLIOGRAPHY .......... ........................................................ 205

LIST OF REFEREN CES: ARABIC.......................................... .......................... 215

B IO G R A PH IC A L SK E T C H ........................................ ............................................218
















LIST OF FIGURES

Figure page

2-1 Basic Parameters Determining Islam's Relation to Democracy. ..........................41

5-1 Sudan Ideological Spectrum (L-R) ............................................. ............... 120

6-1 M oroccan Ideological Spectrum (L-R) ...................................... ............... 161















Abstract of Dissertation Presented to the Graduate School
of the University of Florida in Partial Fulfillment of the
Requirements for the Degree of Doctor of Philosophy

ISLAM, DEMOCRACY, AND GOVERNANCE:
SUDAN AND MOROCCO IN A COMPARATIVE PERSPECTIVE

By

Waleed Mousa

August 2005

Chair: Goran Hyden
Major Department: Political Science

Throughout its history, Islam has been marked by two trends. The first trend is a

literalist tradition, which considers the Sharia laws as expounded in the medieval manuals

as the eternally valid and immutable standards of conduct. The second trend is a liberalist

interpretation of Sharia, which views that classical theory as only one stage in the

evolution of the Sharia. This interpretation continues to interpret the Qur'an in light of

the mundane forces that activate society.

My dissertation argues that the absence of a well-balanced socio-political

philosophy exacerbates the tension between these two tendencies: between Islamization,

which as a result of the colonial and post-colonial legacies has become tantamount with

the literalist tradition, and Liberalization, which lies in consonance with intellectual

school of thoughts that had evolved in the West. This tension becomes internalized in a

culturally homogeneous society such as the Moroccan society; it becomes externalized in

a culturally heterogeneous society such as the Sudanese society. Increasing acts of









violence display some of the tension that the Moroccan society is experiencing; jihad

declared citizens of the south explains some of the Sudanese tension. An Islamic

epistemological revolution, to borrow Mohamed Arkoun's terminology, may be the way

towards invigorating genuine interaction between Islam with its emphasis on a

communitarian bond, and the sociological and historical roots of modernity with its

emphasis on individuality, hence creating a morally bounded public sphere, yet one that

is liberating.














CHAPTER 1
AN OVERVIEW

Democratization, with its ensuing pressures for parallel liberal economic and

political reforms, poses a special challenge to Islamic countries. Relatively little work has

been done on this subject (Tibi 2002; Ahmed 1992; Sivan 1990; Eickelman and Piscatori

1996; Lewis 1988; Nasr 2001). This dissertation is an attempt to fill the existing gap in

our knowledge. It focuses on two African countries, Sudan and Morocco, which have

been struggling for quite some time to reconcile an Islamic heritage with a more liberal

political order. In addition, both countries have been wrestling with how to incorporate

geographically peripheral parts into the political mainstream: in Sudan, the South; in

Morocco, Western Sahara. These tensions have intensified in recent years as the end of

the Cold War has unleashed an ideological tension within the Muslim world that exposed

the weaknesses of existing political institutions.

Politics in plural Islamic countries, such as Morocco and Sudan fails to produce

stability and a plural reconciliation because the pragmatic middle ground on the

ideological spectrum (IS), occupied by traditional parties with a Sufi background, is

being conquered by stronger forces. These modernist forces are mainly on the left and the

right side of the ideological spectrum (Modernists forces are forces that use the state as

their vehicle of reform, they can either be seculars from the left or Islamists from the

right), and they use more effective political means to rule. The political authority in

Morocco succeeded in the post-colonial era in overcoming extremist tendencies either to

the left or to the right. This allowed the political authorities to follow a moderate path that









facilitated building a political and economic infrastructure that linked the coastal and

inner cities (and the king to the masses in a rather superficial manner). But Sudan's

sporadic movements from the left to the right denied the state monopoly over (non)

physical resources. This thwarted Sudan's ability to overcome centrifugal tendencies and

threatened its very existence as a central authority. The lack of cooperation between the

two middle-of-the-spectrum parties has made traditional parties susceptible to seduction

from either extreme. The left (seculars) accused the Umma and the Democratic Unionist

Party (DUP) of succumbing to sectarian motives, as they engaged in using religion as a

mobilizational tool within the domain of the sect. But the right (Islamists) accused these

traditional parties of giving in to secular demands. As a result, the middle-of-the-ground

parties had very brief moments (compare six years of democracy to 36 from the time

Sudan took its independence) that it could use to bolster their capacity to politically

incorporate the periphery.

In my comparison I shall examine the tension between ideological polarization and

incorporation and how it affects political stability. The degree of ideological tension is

higher in Morocco than in Sudan due to their different colonial experiences (Morocco

was colonized by the French, Sudan by the British), proximity of Morocco from Europe

and political dialectic that the Maghreb historically had with the Mashreq. The

ideological middle ground is dominated mostly by Sufis in both countries, the Sufis

nonetheless remain largely unincorporated in the political center. While the Moroccan

center is dominated by the king, the Sudanese center is divided between two parties --

DUP and Umma. These parties are largely dominated by two religious families, the

Marghanis and the Mahdis, respectively, by virtue of being the supreme authority, in









contrast, religious leaders in Sudan had at times during conflict recounted political

authority that they devolved to elites to lead the traditional parties. Within these middle-

of-the-ground parties a continuous tension existed between traditional leaders who

controlled the majority of religious followers, and leaders who had secular modern appeal

but lacked spiritual credentials. Consequently, it was easier for other political actors to

ignore the center in Sudan than in Morocco. Political instability affected the ability of

both countries to design a liberal political order that recognizes the rights of each group

to compete on equal terms, and grants minorities their political rights and civil liberties.

Although Morocco did not experience as dramatic consequences as Sudan (2 million

people died in the civil war in Sudan, so far), because Morocco had relatively an

ethnically and religiously homogeneous body, the issue of Western Sahara has proved

costly both in terms of physical and human costs.

The argument pursued here is that in societies where the literal tradition continues

to be very much alive, political stability is foremost influenced by the tensions caused by

the political mobilization that this literal tradition permits, on the one hand, and the

liberal and secular efforts to modernize and develop society, on the other. Within the

Islamic literal tradition, however, there is also a marked polarity between centralization

and dispersion of political authority, with "high" Islam pursuing the former and Sufists

the latter. This latter division within Islam also has another dimension: "high" Islam

being predominantly an urban, Sufism predominantly a rural phenomenon. The main

argument here is that it is this "double disadvantage" of relying on dispersed authority

and being largely rural that contributes to displacing the pragmatic forces from the









political center and leaving room for more radical secular or Islamic forces to seize

political power.

The migration of elites to the left and the right of the ideological spectrum then has

deprived the middle-of-the-spectrum of an important asset it could have used to

intellectually (not only pragmatically) balance the rich --though dormant Islamic heritage-

- with the important tenets that modem political systems are based upon, namely,

political rights and civil liberties. In order to fully understand the governance challenges

in Islamic countries it is helpful to pursue the analysis along two axes: one horizontal, the

other vertical. The former refers to the ideological spectrum already mentioned, the latter

to the way power is organized in a centralized or dispersed fashion. Islamic countries

tend to differ politically in terms of where they are located in the matrix below:

Power
Centralized


Seculars Islamists

Ideology Left Right


? (NGOs) Sufis


Dispersed


The ideological tension between the literalists and the liberalists has some

resemblance to the continuum of Islamic socio-political philosophy that existed a

thousand years ago and which extended from the taqlid to the ijtihad. The literalist

considers Islamic jurisprudence/Sharia laws expounded in the medieval manuals as the

eternally valid and immutable standards of conduct. The liberalists view classical theory









as only one stage in the evolution of the Sharia and they continue to interpret the Qur'an

in light of the mundane forces that activate society. However, a little bit of investigation

in Islamic history reveals a lack of historical continuity between the old itjihad-taqlid

distinction and the more contemporary liberal-literalist distinction. Thus, the ijtihad

school of thought, with its pluralist and empowering ideals was repeatedly suppressed by

political authorities. These authorities sought refuge in taqlid to monopolize

understanding of Islam. The taqlid therefore controlled the masses religiously and

thwarted their potential to challenge to the status quo. Islamic regimes drew on the taqlid

tradition to legitimate their political authority. For instance, while the Moroccan regime

limited its understanding of Islam to media coverage of Friday prayers, the Sudanese

regime tried to ideologically impose its understanding of Islam over the society as a

whole by indoctrinating students at all levels, infusing Islamic agenda in media programs,

and so forth.

Where there was no religious authority to monopolize the political center, such as

Sudan, totalitarian regimes hailed Islam as a panacea for all problems to justify their

move against seculars, namely, socialists or communists, who by the end of the Cold War

lost their ideological appeal. During the Cold War the question was whether to include

Islam in the equation of governance and under what forms (secular vs. theocratic).

Toward the end of Islamic revivalism in Sudan the question has become how to include

Islam and with what implication for political rights and civil liberties. The stumbling

attempts of Islamists since becoming dominant to solve any of the endemic economic and

social problems have called into question their monopoly over the "truth." This more

recent development has created more fluidity on the ideological spectrum with actors









modifying their previous positions. Thus, for instance, seculars who in the past didn't

attempt to legitimate their claims religiously, are now trying to decompose the "Islamic

heritage" to grant it the intellectual dynamism it needs to fulfill the persistently changing

demands of modem life. Rather than breaking out of the tradition, liberals are now

reflecting inwards to liberate themselves from a literate tradition that had long justified

discrimination against women and non-Muslim minorities.

The dichotomous relationship between the left and the right can be explained by

the dysfunctional political systems that Sudan and Morocco inherited from the colonials.

Nonetheless, much remains to be explained by an old-fashioned educational system that

fails to benefit from the epistemological revolutions that overwhelmed the social

sciences. Although it is difficult to be critical of peoples' heritage under times of

repression and political backwardness, Muslim scholars of Western education, such as

Mohamed Arkoun and Mohamed Abid al-jabri argue that without revisiting and critically

reexamining the tradition it would be difficult if not impossible to reconceptualize

Islamic theology. Insofar as it takes for granted the authenticity of the original sources,

the taqlid-ijtihad dichotomy remains rudimentary and in many ways insufficient. What

was originally taqlid became synonymous with literalism (it is not necessarily literal, but

uses an old epistemology), ijtihadbecame for sometime synonymous with

liberalism/secularism (it has recently started converging towards the tradition, i.e., it is

using Islam to legitimate its claims). Though it is important to design means of political

accommodation of religiously diverse groups, overcoming the theological divide through

intellectual and conceptual means remains vital over the long run.









Similarly, what allows Islamists an opportunity to label Sufism as heterodoxy and

to some extent succeed in such propaganda is a colonial legacy that gave modernist

groups institutional power --that of the modernist state-- to politically marginalize Sufi

groups. In countries like Morocco where Sufis enjoy a sizable presence, the king boosts

his authority by portraying himself, again aided by extremely influential modern media

technology, as a mega Sufi, a religious scholar, and a descendent of the prophet.By

playing both seculars and "high" Islamic forces against the Sufis, he has been able to

neutralize their influence and occupy the political center-stage himself. While the Suftsts

had played a major part in the foundation of the Istqlal party in the 1960s, they have now

been marginalized and unable to play their role in the political middle.

The political stage has for a long time been orchestrated by the king who in

addition to having benefited from regional and international circumstances in bolstering

his political authority, capitalized on an antique heritage or centralized religious

authority. However, increased challenges from the right have exposed the efforts that the

Moroccan regime have made to reconcile the Islamic heritage and liberal political values.

The dismay of the public with secularism and their discontent with Islamic ideology that

brought disasters to neighboring countries, such as Algeria, explain the public's weak

participation in national (party) politics. A case in point is the 2003 election in which less

than 40 percent of the population participated in voting. They are equally dissatisfied

with the the king and his attempts to reconcile the ideological tension between the left

and the right. Hasssan II responded to political challenges by shifting ideological labels

and not necessarily changing or adjusting governance strategies. He used his intellectual

mastery of Western philosophy when accused by seculars of backwardness (Cold War









era), and he resorts to his religious appeal when confronting Islamists (Islamic

revivalism).

To the extent that this duality helped the king stabilize the Moroccan regime, it

endowed Hassan II with maneuverability he could use to thwart political opposition

without changing actual political stands. The king managed to make himself

indispensable by activating political rivalries between actors at either end of the extreme,

that is, seculars and Islamists. For example, during the Cold War radical forces were

crushed for the cause of protecting Islamic identity from the evil of socialism. The

change in the regional and international circumstances encouraged opposition leaders to

demand political freedom that was overshadowed by the king's demand for national unity

in the face of secessionist forces in the Western Sahara. The king rejuvenated the baia,'

under the strictness of modern protocols and the notoriousness of modem media, to claim

religious right over a politically disputed land, the Western Sahara. He considered the

right of a Muslim king to extend his authority over an "annexed Muslim land." What was

surprisingly an oath of obedience that Muslim ulama had traditionally given to the king

was extended to include modern politicians --even seculars and communists-- who after

40 years of defiance accepted the idea of a constitutional monarch to absorb the tidal

wave of Islamic revivalism. They inflated the image of the king as a religious figure to

thwart the ability of Islamists to use Islam for mobilizational purposes. While the issue of

the Western Sahara was for a long time used to divert attention from violation of civil

rights in the rest of Morocco, absence of freedom made it difficult for Moroccan

politicians to address the atrocities committed against the Saharawis, inhabitants of the

Western Sahara. The governance tale of Morocco clearly demonstrates that in a context









where power is effectively centralized --and occupied by an authoritative figure like

Makzan-- Sufism can occupy the political middle ground but with the important

qualification that the masses are not part of it.

The governance story of Sudan is different. It inherited a less strenuous relationship

between the left and the right as a result of the British colonial policy that did not have a

position against religion. Nor did the salafi doctrine play an important part in political life

in Sudan until recently. Despite its relative geographic proximity, Sudan remained quite

peripheral in the context of the big religious debates of the Mashreq (the core Arab

countries in what is now called the Middle East). The main difference, however, is that

political authority was never effectively centralized or held by an authoritative figure like

the King of Morocco. It became much more easily liable to ideological agitation from

either the left or the right, thus frustrating the democratic process and inviting an

intrusive army into the political arena. This was exacerbated by the fact that the

traditional parties appealed to a Sufi majority that resided in the rural areas, leaving the

cities --and the political center-- to modernist forces. The latter --whether Islamists or

communists-- tended to rely on authoritarian means to achieve their ends, while the

traditional parties tried to promote a parliamentary form of democracy. The more the

pendulum moved to the left, as, for instance during the rise of the secular forces to power

in 1969, the more it alienated the Muslim majority by advocating extreme secular

measures and refusing to allow Sharia a role in the design of public policy proceedings.

The more the pendulum moved to the extreme right, as during the rise of Hassan Turabi

to power in the late 1980s, the more it alienated the non-Muslim minority in southern

Sudan. In short, while Morocco has remained relatively stable and occupied one and the









same position in our matrix above, Sudan has continued to be unstable and shift position

in the matrix more than once.

In conclusion, this dissertation argues that the locus of power is "off-centered" in

both Sudan and Morocco, but they are so in different ways. Morocco is off center

because of the dominant position occupied by the King and his ability to play different

forces against each other and thus block progress towards a harmonization of the literal

and liberal traditions and the achievement of a sustainable political stability. Sudan, on

the other hand, is off center in the sense that the political vacuum at the center invites

radical swings from right to left or vice versa, leaving the country without the necessary

political stability to promote national development.

Three main blocks contribute to the building of this argument. The first section,

which contains Chapter 1, explains the difficulty that Muslim countries in general

encountered in coordinating cultural and political activities at the time of independence,

the Cold War, and Islamic revivalism. The second section consists of Chapters 3 and 4.

Chapter 3 examines the historical circumstances that allowed the state to impose its

authority over the society, but with more degrees of success in Morocco than in Sudan.

Chapter 4 traces the evolution of Islamic theology to identify the major benchmarks that

have historically influenced the development of the ideological spectrum, as we know it

today. Section three, which contains Chapters 5 and 6 traces the movements on the

ideological pendulum to explain how they have affected efforts at establishing

democratic governance. Chapter 7 discusses the ontological question: based on the

experience of Morocco and Sudan, what lessons can be learnt for the Muslim world? In






11


this last chapter I make recommendations for what I think may contribute to the

stabilization of regimes in Muslim countries.














CHAPTER 2
ISLAM AND DEMOCRACY

The relationship between Islam and democracy is both historically and in a

contemporary perspective a tortured relationship. Mainstream notions of democracy are

the product of a historical trajectory dominated by Western Civilization. Muslims have

been approaching such principal features of contemporary democracy as individual

freedom, human rights, and competitive elections from the outside to the inside. They are

being asked to adjust to this type of political system without necessarily having the

economic or cultural conditions that have given rise to it in the first place. But looking at

these issues in a historical perspective, individual freedom was more advanced in the

Golden Era of Islam in the 10th to 12th Centuries than it was during that time within other

religious traditions. Thus, it is to easy to argue that within Islam the development

trajectory has been from individualism to communitarianism, and in Christianity and

Judaism, it has been just the opposite.

The evolution of communitarianism in the Islamic world has both internal and

external causes. The different religious interpretations and the relatively decentralized

system of authority, which characterized Islam in the past and still exists, were not easily

compatible with the ambitions of individual rulers wishing to create states of their own.

Retaining some degree of control and coherence required the establishment of systems in

which obedience in a religious sense and submission in political terms were necessary.

The literal tradition lent itself to this kind of evolution with the ulama serving the needs

of the rulers. The relative flexibility and freedom that individuals had enjoyed in the









Golden Era were gradually constrained. The ummah, which had at one time been

interpreted in a "bottom-up" fashion, was gradually defined in distinct top-down fashion

by the elite. Although the religious diversity within the broader Islam continued, each

sect tended to "freeze" a certain interpretation of the Qur'an and the Sunnah, thereby

giving such interpretation not only a sacrosanct status but also providing a rigid

behavioral code for each follower. This tension within what might be called a "high" and

a "low" Islam --between rulers and followers-- produced its own tensions between those

inclined to follow a mysticist interpretation (sufism) and those ready to follow a more

literal interpretation of the principal sources of inspiration (salafis). In both cases,

however, individuals were expected to conform or comply with norms and beliefs set for

them by authoritative sources within the religious system. Influenced by external and

internal pressures, both groups had over the years moved onto the literalist side of the

spectrum, with the only difference that the traditionalists/Sufis adopts a society-oriented

strategy of reform, the Islamic modernists a state-oriented. There are virtually no

convincing cases until very recently, for example, the opposition in Lebanon where

societal action inspired by the liberal tradition has taken place. The point is that a secular

civil society has yet to develop in Islamic countries. In trying to relate Islam to

democracy in more constructive fashion, therefore, the virtual absence of a liberally

inspired civil society is thec "Achilles Heal."

Islam has always been interacting with other religions and civilizations. It would be

wrong to suggest, therefore, that external influences are only recent. Islam was influenced

by military combat with the Persians, Romans, and Europeans in Spain that nevertheless

bred intellectual correspondence. However, the colonial invasion of the Muslim lands in









the 19th century registered a psychological defeat that made Islam more defensive and

inclined to react to outside influences rather than shaping the trends of development. Its

communitarian value system was held up as a preferable alternative to the increasingly

liberal tradition within Christianity, especially after the principle of separation of church

and state had been adopted. Within this increasingly secular tradition, individualism took

hold. Community was seen as standing in the way of emancipating the individual. What I

refer to as the "liberal tradition" in this dissertation eventually came to pose the opposite

to the literal tradition that continued to be dominant within Islam.

These dichotomies between high and low Islam --or state and society-dominated

rule-- and a literal and a liberal tradition have been the dominant factors shaping the

evolution of Islam and its relations with notions of democracy. These distinctions

constitute the basic organizing principles of understanding this relation, and the

organization and discussion in this chapter reflect this. More specifically, it begins by

tracing the evolution of Islamic thought and its political implications in the years prior to

Western colonization in the 19th century. The second part deals with the effects of

Western colonialism on Islam, especially its attempt to modernize Islam by weakening

the grip by community of its individual members. The final section of this chapter

identifies cases that illustrate a matrix built around the two dichotomies listed above.

Political Authority in Islam Prior to Modernity

The central issue in Islam's political history has been authority: who "rightfully"

holds the authority of interpreting the text and by what criteria is authority established

(that is, differently among various groups)? Indeed, the original differences in Islamic

history do lay the groundwork for what we see in contemporary Sudan and Morocco, for

example, whether their authority devices from Sharia scholarship, prophetic descent,










mystical experiences, or a combination of all. While Sufis encourage a flexible

interpretation of the Qur'an based on the allegorical interpretation (tawil) of the saint

(walee), Salafis, true heirs to the early theocratic state, emphasize plain

investigation/literal meaning (tafsir) of the scholar (alym).1 Hodgson in his classic, The

Venture ofIslam, asks the compelling question: "How can the inward-minded Sufis and

the Shariah-minded Hadith folk be made to complement each other in an Islamic spiritual

life" (Hodgson 1977: 402)?2 Should Muslims decide to give up their adornment with

society as an indivisible polity, can the modern state --with its emphasis on functional

differentiation-- provide each entity its domain while granting a schema of operation?

Does democracy, with its indelible demand of popular sovereignty, extend Muslims an

opportunity to pay tribute to their heritage or does it forfeit them such right in the name

of "liberalism" and/or "secularism"?3




1 In Chapter Three, I explain that Islamists have tried to obtain both the authority of the scholar and the
sanctity of the saint, thus defying their modernist appeal and making it difficult for the observer to
distinguish them for any traditional groups.

2 "The spiritual temptation of the Sufis was complementary to that of those of the Hadith folk who resisted
going along the Sufi path. For the Hadith folk, the danger came from the attempt to capture the
unformulable in a formula, to hold on to God Himself within the words of the Qur'an. In such an attempt,
they risked forgoing the spontaneous responsiveness which never ceases seeking beyond what it has
already found, in favor of a disciplined responsibility to truth already known: responsibility such as had
caused people to receive and live by the Qur'anic challenge when it was first delivered. Such responsibility
was always necessary to preserve the continuity of commitment in the tradition of any group. But, held to
too narrow an exclusivity, such responsibility could impose a conformity which would preclude any new
understanding, smother the creative dialogue which was equally necessary for any cultural tradition, and
devitalize the very tradition it was meant to serve" (Hodgson 1977: 402).

3 Said Qutb --the intellectual factor of modem activism-- contends that the economic institutions of the
West are fully governed by material rationality, a belief that defies the ontology of any religion. Secularism
rules political institutes as a sovereign mistress, thus denying social norms and values a role in designing
public policy procedures. The Enlightenment's vilification of religion has, at minimum, caused moral
relativism, and, at maximum, culminated in the moral impoverishment of Western societies. Albeit, he did
not live long enough to see Islamism with its admiration with the processes associated with modernization,
for example, rationalization as well as technical capacity of the modem state, sold its version of modernity
--a set of socially encoded values emphasizing sympathy for traditional values over economic efficiency,
power, and profit-- that bankrupted Muslim societies, both morally and intellectually (Euben 2000: 30).









The Qur'an and the Sunna are the material sources of divine revelation in Islam.

The Qur'an was revealed in 23 years and was completed shortly before the death of

Prophet Mohammed. The Sunna represents the recorded words and deeds of the Prophet;

it was recorded almost a century after the death of the Prophet. In his lifetime, the

Prophet discouraged his companions from recording the Sunna. He wanted the broad

precepts and ethical norms of the Qur'an to provide guidance for the newly forming

community. Nonetheless, scholars, who followed the literate tradition, found in the Sunna

(conceptual) tools they could use to confine the Qur'an to the spatial and the temporal

particularities of the time (see Chapter 4), while still claiming that "Islam is timeless and

unchanging." Modern scholars like Abd al-Majeed Al-Sharafi (2001), Tariq Ramdan,

(2004); Mohamed Arkoun (1999), and Nasr Hamid Abu-Zaid (1996) contend, in addition

to agency-related issues, there are structural factors. These factors the extended period

between the time of the Prophet and the recording of the Sunna. This may have

influenced the imagination of individuals who reported the sayings of the Prophet not to

forget the pressure that religious scholars experienced to stabilize a society undergoing

rapid transformation. Historically deconstructing that time period to expose the

relationship between truth and --power and thus to make a distinction between what the

Prophet intended and what the scholars decreed-- resembles one of the thorniest issues

for Muslims today. First, given their lack of intellectual training in social sciences,

today's ulama are ill equipped to undertake such a task (see Chapter 4). Second, activists

who are often referred to as "Islamists" want to preserve the picture of a pure and pristine

Islam in the face of continued encroachment of the West over Muslim territories. This is

a defensive strategy as well as a strategic one.









While Ali b. abi-Talib (the fourth Caliphate after the Prophet Mohamed, his cousin,

and son-in-law) demanded piety as a way of subverting parochialism that was deeply

engrained in the Arabic culture, his cousin Moawya b. abi-Sufyan, also a political

competitor, thought the latter feature could be used to stabilize the political system and

thereby spread Islam. But what kind of an Islam is this? How different is it from the

religion of Quaraish (the prestigious Arab tribe that had the honor of protecting Mecca

and serving the pilgrims at the times of the Prophet) --one that justified submissiveness in

the midst of injustice? The dispute was considered political, at most quasi-religious,

because no one then had a monopoly over "truth." Imam Ali was asked, in lieu of a

military confrontation that consumed the lives of approximately 70,000 of the

companions of the Prophet, what he thought of his cousin. Unlike the attitude of

"modern" Muslim leaders who accuse their political opponents of apostasy, he confirmed

they were Muslims who transgressed against their brothers. However pious the public

perceived them, none of the first four caliphates dared to exploit religion for political

reasons or use politics to dictate a religious doctrine (Memissi 1992). The "secular"

exercise of politics4 made Islam adaptive to different socio-cultural contexts, and gained

the system political efficacy at a time when Islam spread to geographical territories

beyond the caliphate's capability to administer.5 Future kings, only three decades after

the death of the Prophet Mohamed, viewed such characteristics as making religion

4 That is to say, politics was practiced within the zone of (partial) overlap between the temporal and the
spiritual domains. And none of the caliphates in the first three decades of Islam attempted to use religion to
dominate any of the two domains or completely separate them.

5 "It is human intelligence that formulates the universal and elaborate methodologies, which vary according
to the object of study to which they are applied (e.g., religious practice, social affairs, sciences), by working
on the Quran and the Sunna. In other words, the Sharia, insofar as it is the expression of 'the way of
faithfulness,' deduced and constructed a posteriori, is the work of human intellect" (Ramadan 2004: 34).









elusively malleable and its 'kingdom" politically vulnerable. However, it would take

centuries of collaboration between Islamic rulers (Amirs) and religious scholars (ulama)

to completely silence the moral consciousness of the individual Muslim as the only guard

against theocracy.

During the first three centuries of Islam, four different Sunni schools of law were

established and received recognition as "equally authoritative expressions of Sharia law."

These are the Malikis, the Hanbilis, the Hanafis, and the Shafis. According to Coulson,

"The genesis of Islamic religious law lay in a complex process of historical growth

intimately connected with current social conditions." For instance, while a woman could

contract a marriage only through her guardian in the traditionally tribal and patriarchal

society of Medina, she had full freedom in contracting her marriage in Kufa, which was a

cosmopolitan town in a predominantly Persian milieu (Coulson 1965: 76). By providing a

socio-historical understanding of sharia, scholars helped the individual Muslim remain

loyal to his moral consciousness --thereby contributing to the social balance and ensuring

a peaceful coexistence between the inner and the outer self (they nonetheless risked

losing their job in a modem setup). This helps us understand --contrary to the conviction

of modern theists and activists-- that it is God's law; the sharia is a natural law. Ramadan

asserts, "The corpus of the Sharia is a human construction, and some aspects of it may

evolve just as human thought evolves and just as some aspects of the Quran and the

Sunna were revealed over time" (Ramadan 2004:37). Second, "The entire Islamic fiqh

has developed through a process in which the community and its representatives have

participated in open process" (Khurshid 2000:15). Sharia grew out of the need to put

limitation on the sovereign, that is, the individual was perceived as the source of









authority, at least in theory. His intention was considered more valuable than their deed,

and their perception of the "truth" depended on their intellectual capacity, not their

material or cultural endowment. However, it is worth noting --although there were

political attempts by the Umayyad to interfere with the proceedings of the Sharia-- that

they were mostly unsuccessful. The dignity of the individual Muslim, something that the

first four caliphates cherished, endured through the first five to six centuries of Islam.

Although Islamic rulers had always succeeded in co-opting (ulama), it was not until the

advent of the modern state that they completely succeeded in subordinating religious

scholars. By virtue of being informal, education in the past was largely an activity of the

society, not the state.

Muslim encounters with the high civilization of the Sasanids and the Byzantines,

which were then the borders of Near Eastern Civilization, and later the intellectual barter

with the peoples of Greece and Spain, made an impact on the intellectual history of

Islam. As each of the Sunni schools of law was influenced by the social and political

circumstances in which each school evolved, the fear of permutation has caused some

Sunni jurists to increasingly discourage Sunni jurists from engaging in the activity of

ijtihad (independent interpretation) outside the scope of any of the existing schools of

jurisprudence. The acceptance of belief on the authority of others, a doctrine known as

taqlid, was refused by the proponents of the "rationalist" school who viewed the classical

theory as only one stage in the evolution of the Sharia (Coulson 1965: 91). They

perceived benefit from reflecting upon the knowledge of past generations but refused to

be limited by it. The advocates of this tradition, of whom the mu'tazilite was the most

prominent group, perceived rationality, not tradition, as the only guard against the









recession of Islamic jurisprudence. Toward the end of the 10th century, two schools of

thought became prevalent: the traditionalist school, which adopted the doctrine of taqlid,

and the rationalist school, which maintained the scholarly tradition of ijtihad.

The orientation of the Silk Road that extended from China to ancient Rome

energized the pre-capitalized economy, which gave rise to a group of merchants who

favored the rationalist school. Rationality was the Abbasid tool to subvert the Umayyad

dynasty, which for a long time promoted fatalism. It was Allah's will to have them as

rulers of the Muslim ummah. Ironically, the Mu'tazilite were persecuted by the same

dynasty that they helped bring to power. They nevertheless influenced and helped create

an intellectual dynamics unprecedented in the history of Islam, often referred to the

Golden Age of Islam (10th to 11th centuries). In the absence of a well-defined procedure

that could mediate extremes, such rich intellectual dynamics were made vulnerable to the

whims of a ruler who thwarted diversity in favor of unity. At the cost of having a stable

political system, the Islamic authority --then the Abbasid dynasty-- had done away with

individual freedom and instead appropriated the Persian heritage of "obedience" to

establish the first theocratic state in Islam in the 10th century.6 "This did not, of course,

mean the rule of the clergy, which in the sacerdotal sense, did not exist. .but there is

another interpretation of the word "theocracy," based on its original and literal meaning,

that is, 'the rule of God'" (Lewis 1988: 30).

In his classic, The Arab Moral Mind, Al-jabri asserts that the choice of "obedience"

was strategically a political move, as well as a historic coincidence. To stabilize his

regime, the Abbasid Amir needed a specific type of obedience, not the obedience of the

6 Inherent in this system was an authoritative logic that put indigenous populations, be it Persians, later
Africans, and so forth, at the service of the "Arab Caesar."









nomad to his chieftain, or that of the disciple to the pastor, but both. He wanted political

obedience that was religiously stipulated. Such tradition was for centuries woven in the

Persian culture, which saw the Caesar as both a religious figure and a political leader (Al-

jabri 2001). To prevail through massive internal and external pressures, the political

institution advocated an already existing religious doctrine, that of the Salafis (referring

to the salaf. the companions of the Prophet). The theocratic logic, first introduced by the

Umayyad and later institutionalized by the Abbasids, made it difficult for political

dissidents to oppose the Amir (ruler) without facing the accusation of apostasy.7 Any

uprising against the status quo, Al-Jabri asserts, needed to be substantiated religiously

(and probably ethnically); it had to be a revolt from within the circle of religion. What

was supposed to save Muslims --the plight of trial and error with their newly born

political system opened-- the door for infinite turmoil. Repeated failures of the

indigenous populations to destabilize the Arab-dominated regimes, be it Abbasid or

Umayyad, enticed the new converts, mainly Persians, who became strangers in their own

land, to seek a different strategy. They shifted from active resistance to passive

resistance. By resorting to asceticism --again a quality inherent in the Persian heritage--

mystics evacuated the public sphere, thus diffusing the authority of the Amir, without

giving him an excuse to use force. This created a precarious situation as it deprived the

political authority of human and material resources it needed to carry further expeditions,

that is, direct resources for outside invasion rather than wait for it to be directed against

them. In the modem context, this will mean an indirect involvement in politics, which



7 Religious theology developed under political constraints. What was propagated as religious decree was
mostly an offshoot of some political quarrel (Abu-Zaid 1996).









departs western understanding of party systems, given its separation between ends and

means of achieving political objectives.8

Muslims of Persian origin masterfully used the weapon of "obedience" against the

Arab Caesar. They transformed obedience from that of the ruled to the ruler, Al-jabri

asserts, to it being obedience of the disciple (mureed) to the master (sheik). Pioneers of

Islamic mysticism, such as Ibrahim b. Adham, Abd al-Allah b. al-mubarak, Shageeb al-

Balki, and many others, were wealthy people; some of them came from privileged

families. They were non-Arabs who used group asceticism as a weapon against the

"invader" who deprived them of social and political status. Mystics discouraged their

followers from pursuing political power and material wealth, and instead enticed them to

concentrate on purifying the self and displaying moral discipline. The less tolerant the

central authority became with deviations of the public from its outlined doctrine, the

more tolerance the Sufi sheiks displayed to their disciples or mureeds. As a result, Sufism

spread to the "periphery" in a very limited time, and its followers grew beyond the

wildest imagination of the then Islamic Leviathan. Not surprisingly, countries that are in

the periphery of today's Islamic world, such as Morocco and Sudan, are predominately

Sufis. It is through modem education that these nations' elites got exposed to doctrinal

Islam as found in Egypt or Saudi Arabia (see Chapter 4).

This political tension between centripetal and centrifugal forces persisted over the

years and gave rise to theological tendencies that prevail strongly today. To the extent



8 In Sudan, Cudsi asserts, "The vacuum created by the reluctance of tariqa leaders to assume a direct
political role was inevitably filled by secular liberal nationalists, who used the sectarian movements
primarily to win away popular support from their rivals. On the contrary, this indirect political influence
enabled Sufi orders to accommodate themselves more smoothly to, and play a more effective role in,
subsequent non-democratic systems" (Cudsi 1983: 37).









that the petal/fugal tendency endowed Islamic theology with a kind of fluidity that

hindered the formation of an ecclesiastical institutional, it thwarted the construction of a

common public sphere. People escape the rigidity of the center to immerse themselves in

the (spiritual and temporal) flexibility of the periphery. For example, elites or masses that

feel stifled with dogmatic policies of modern Islamic nations choose to escape the

doctrinal/distinctive Islam of formal Islamic schools (madrassa). These schools are

supervised by the state scholars to join the doctrinaire/diffusive Islam of the maseed, one

that is entertained by saints (auleya). By fleeing to the periphery, it is prudent to ask, has

the individual Muslim better enjoyed his individuality or has he substituted one master

with another, to borrow Al-Jabri phrase? Have the disciples (mureed) voluntarily joined a

type of incarceration different from that of the pupil (talib)? How does the spiritual

training of the former differ from the pedagogical training of the latter?

What role can modern politics play in governing --not exploiting-- the relationship

between the two? Will colonials and post-colonial state builders try to ameliorate or

exploit the already existing cleavages and with what objectives?

Modernization and Colonialism: The Creation of "the Other"

The encounter of the Muslims with the capitalist West is qualitatively a different

situation from their encounter with the pre-capitalist West. Colonialism was the Muslims'

first full encounter with the West in economic, social, and political terms. This was a

hegemonic encounter that not only influenced the form of life, but also changed its

substance (Taylor 1992: 66). Driven by materialism and armed with advanced military

technology, colonialism set itself the task of filling metropolitan treasures with the wealth

of colonized nations. An alien autocratic bureaucracy, erected for the fulfillment of this

objective, continued to exercise tutelage and subjugate societies to its own whims in the









period of decolonization (Young 1994). As the cage was opened, colonized peoples

found themselves in dire poverty and had to borrow money to cover the huge gaps in

health and educational services. They fell prey to international financial institutions.

These institutions preached impartiality but preserved the right of indoctrination. It used

liberalism as a strong ideological arsenal against ancient civilizations --Islamic, Christian,

and Chinese-- that were already beginning to lose their grips on the minds of people due

to the forces of secularism: scientific rationality, economic interdependence, and

communication technology (Anderson 1973: 65). This caused a transformation

unprecedented in the history of mankind. Not only has man set a mission to conquer

nature, but also to shake the convictions that had held humanity for thousands of years.

Though secularism, as explained by Badie and Binbaum (1983), was peculiar to the

European history, it was propagated in the Muslim world as the natural evolution of

political development. Nonetheless, this is not a type of secularism that granted religion

autonomy from state or the state autonomy from religion; it is a hybrid strategy that

targeted sufi Islam --that of the periphery. The colonial authority introduced legal

changes that aimed at thwarting the potential of popular Islam and gradually diffusing its

authority, as it vigorously fueled the resistance to the presence of imperialism in Muslim

lands.9 Both factors had a matrix dividing effect on Muslim societies. The position of

political authority vis-a-vis the sharia introduced for the first time in Muslim history a

secular/theocratic dichotomy: Secular regimes substitute the Sharia with legal codes

imported from France, Britain, or Switzerland. Not only did the state in Turkey (1920s)



9 In contrast to radical forces, that is, fundamentalists, who in the modem would confront the enemy while
being oblivious to the human cost, Sufis adopt passive resistance as a strategy that they mastered through
the ages and which granted them success in front of an enemy that is disproportionately more powerful.









abandon the process of political socialization by borrowing a constitutional order from

the West, but it also disregarded the needs and aspirations of society as the exclusive

determinants of law in the secular sense.10 Quasi-secular regimes are secular at the core

and use Islam for legitimation purposes. For example, Saudi Arabia limits the role of the

Sharia to family matters and by no means does it allow Islamic values to influence the

policy of the state. Theocracy, for example, Afghanistan at the time of the Taliban,

considers the Sharia laws as expounded in the medieval manuals as the eternally valid

and immutable standards of conduct. Not only is religion the decisive source of moral

authority, but it is also is the sole determinant of politics. Quasi-theocratic regimes, such

as the Sudanese regime (1989-present), are theocratic at the core but use pluralism for

legitimation purposes. They use Islam as an idiom to mobilize resources, nonetheless

these regimes face challenges from fragmented Islamic parties as to what Islam really

means (Eickelman and Piscatori 1992).

In addition to the already existing cultural difference between high and low Islam,

educational policies had the effect of separating the economic interest of elites from that

of the masses, that is, create a socio-economic barrier between the rural and urban

populations. Whereas socialist/communist groups chose economic development as a

means to overcoming the distance, Islamists --be they conservative or radicals (the

difference between authoritative versus totalitarian approach to governance remains to be

explored in Chapter 4)-- preferred manipulation of cultural symbols. Regional and

international pressures --that coincided with sketchy temporal zones such as

colonialism/independence, Cold War (zenith/ebb), Islamism/War on Terror-- influenced

10 This can be oppressive to the population because the law is neither imposed upon society from above nor
is it growing out of it. "Nonrecognition can be a form of oppression, imprisoning someone in a false,
distorted, and reduced mode of being" (Taylor 1992:25).










the move of regimes from one quadrant to other, simultaneously altering the reference

points.ll The economic mode moved from colonial exploitation of the natives (pre-

capitalist/primitive), to imperial expropriation of the periphery (socialist/capitalist), to

disintegrationn of global economy (state versus society-oriented reform).

Simultaneously, the cultural code shifted from questioning the validity of traditionalism

(traditionalism/modernity), to critiquing the political and social utility of religion

(secular/theocratic), to finally confronting the challenging task of making it an integral

part of governance (liberalist/literalist). Proper contextualization of liberalism may

hopefully advance the cultural code toward entertaining a rights/duties spectrum, one that

goes beyond the confinement of religiosity.

For as long as Islamists were politically and economically weak, they managed to

stay under the umbrella of traditionalism in their confrontation with modem elites during

the period of independence and slightly after. The modem appeal of Islamists made them

representatives of Islam --both popular and ideological-- given its combat against

socialists/communists during the Cold War. The rise of Islamic revivalism enticed

Islamists to dissolve their coalition with conservative parties that were the primary

representatives of the periphery, and pursue economic and political policies that only



1 With the fall of Russian communism, a new era with the East has arisen --this time one against those
very forces formed in prior melees. The "War on Terror" is, in essence, a militaristic manifestation of the
animosity felt by the West against the extremism it helped to create. Nominally against --those who
embrace wholeheartedly totalitarianism in the name of religion-- it instead has hindered even those who
would seek to reconcile political differences by creating an even more divergent political environment. It
was not long before President Bush announced his crusade (against the Muslim world) that he recanted and
said Islam is a beautiful religion that was hijacked by terrorists. Embedded in this decorative statement is a
political logic, which refuses to accept Islam as a political discourse that among many others rejects the
hegemony of the West (Moris 2000). Translating Islamism into fundamentalism and equating the latter
with extremism objectifies subduing it militarily and/or politically. The United States has tactically invaded
countries with the least popularity; these are the secular and theocratic extremes, Iraq and Afghanistan,
respectively. These are the regimes that mostly lacked legitimacy, and thereby had weak links to the
society.









succeeded at the expense of unseating their traditional allies. Though the traditional

middle ground is ill equipped intellectually to confront the Islamists, it will be aided with

the Left that adjusted its strategy and the Right that is coerced internationally to play by

the rules of the democratic game. Without making the reader overly optimistic, this

paragraph assumes a move in the right direction for two reasons. First and foremost, by

overcoming a dichotomous relationship and instead assuming a continuum along

extremes, both culture and economics have amended their relationship with reality. As I

mentioned in Chapter 1, rather than dominate economics that inevitably creates an

identity problem (see Chapter 6), the state can enhance the ability of the public sector to

provide services to the private sector by providing education and health services to the

poor, hence diffusing ethnic tension by way of integrating national economy. Also, an

enlightened form of secularism can secure a deliberation medium between various

ideological views. Second, politicians --with their distrust of ideology and

disenchantment with their performance-- have realized the coordination of culture and

economics as an important component of governance.

With emphasis first on legal/institutional changes, followed by explication of

economic/structural factors, this section attempts to systematically go through the

national and international events that set this dynamic on the move. Prior to and after

independence there was a tension between traditionalists and modernists. During the Cold

War, there was a conflict between Islamists and secularists. Toward the end of the Cold

War and immediately after the rise of Islamic revivalism, the debate got heated between

ideological Islam --that of center (sometimes referred in the literature as "high Islam")

and sufi Islam-- that of the periphery (also referred to as "low Islam"). The liberal group,










for reasons we will later discuss, suffers most the absence of society-oriented activists,

that is, individuals who are willing to legitimate their liberal concerns Islamically. The

report, Civil Democratic Islam: Partners, Resources, and Strategies, recently published

by the National Security Research Division (Benard 2003), encourages its partners and

strategic allies, who until now are unidentifiable, to join in the "recognition of

fundamentalism as a shared enemy" against the United States and Sufism.12 The report

seeks to facilitate "cooperation between modernists and the traditionalists who are closer

to the modernist end of the spectrum." There are many built-in defaults to this argument.

First, the report uses rudimentary definitions and anachronistic categories that place

Muslims along an ideological spectrum with a colossal gap between modernism and

traditionalism. Second, the report overlooks the fact that modern-day Sufis and Salafis

belong to the scripturalist end of the spectrum, with the only difference being that the

Salafis choose the state as its vehicle and the Sufis choose the society.13 Third, by

translating scripturalism into fundamentalism and equating the latter with extremism, the

United States risks repeating the mistakes of the Cold War, mainly advocating war as a

way to resolving cultural and political conflicts.14



12 The view that Sufis are traditional allies of colonialism/imperialism is an Islamist view that mistakes
passive resistance for submissiveness.

13 The authority of political Islam cannot be diffused authoritatively, that is, through annihilation,
imprisonment, or psychological torture, but by engaging it in a persistent and systematic debate that
penetrates deep enough to influence change and gradually cause a transformation that makes accessible the
liberal end of the ideological spectrum. Otherwise, what incentives do these "modernists" and/or
"traditionalists" have for cooperation, with what objectives, and through what political mechanism?

14 The moder-day incarnation of the eternal strife between the East and the West, concerning as it did the
two World Powers, was a battle over competing theories of ideology and economics. Lenin-Marxism, the
political system of the Eastern Bloc, was designed to be completely devoid of religious tendencies. It was,
as a result of this ideal, that when the Eastern Bloc began to expand its sphere of influence, it embraced
those more secular nations of the Islamic world, and the United States began to seek out the more
conservative, orthodox states. The United States supported the Sarekat-I-Islam against Sukarno in
Indonesia, the Jamaat-I-Islami against Zulfigar Ali Butto in Pakistan, and the Society of Muslim Brothers









To give itself a chance of educating public morality, Asad contends that

colonialism dismissed traditional values as "irrational" and irrelevant, consequently

making a "strategic separation between law and morality" that justified its use of force

against the indigenous Muslim population. For example,

In Egypt the codes introduced at the turn of the century were largely European and
secular while morality was largely rooted in Islamic tradition. This fact leads to the
question of how interpretive tendencies and assumptions of 'secular' law engage
with sensibilities and predispositions articulating 'religious' morality. If
traditionally embodied conceptions of justice and unconsciously assimilated
experience are no longer relevant to the maintenance of law's authority, then that
authority will depend entirely on the force of the state expressed through its codes.
(Asad 2003: 240)

By so doing, colonialism registered its strongest blow against Islam. Not only had

colonialism severed the links between the rationality/scientific endeavors (which in the

old days were exercised in the domainfiqh but not limited to it), morality, and political

circles that Islamic Leviathans ill coordinated, as I show in the previous section, but it

also divided each upon itself thus causing a schizophrenia from which Muslims still

suffer. Making a distinction between procedural and substantive rationality (Weber 1982)

deprives a community of its heritage, thus denying it existence (Taylor 1992). Asad

correctly notes,

tradition is not based on rationality founded belief but on commitment to a shared
way of life divinely mandated. The techniques of the body (kinesthetic as well as
sensory) employed in rituals of worship are taught and learnt within the tradition,
helping to form the abilities to discriminate and judge correctly, for these abilities



against Nasser in Egypt.14 The expectation was that political Islam would provide a local buffer against
secular nationalism (Mamdani 2004:121). Therefore, through the course of several decades, competing
nations exacerbated the ideological polarization in Muslim states. A gulf was widened between the
moderate and radical factions of Islamic society, and the trend continues to this day. In his book, Good
Muslim Bad Muslim, Mahmoud Mamdani asserts, "Moderate movements organize and agitate for social
reform within the existing political context. Radical movements organize to win power, having concluded
the existing political situation is the main obstacle to political reform" (Mamdani 2004:38). The nationalist
appeal was replaced with internationalist zeal.









are the precondition not only of Islamic ethics in general but also-and this is the
point I want to stress of the law's moral authority. (Asad 2003: 249)

The separation between law and ethics causes an enigma because it challenges the

conception that sharia is "the process whereby individuals are educated and educate

themselves as moral subjects in a scheme that connects the obligation to act morally with

the obligation to act legally in complicated ways" (Asad 2003: 241). This demarcation

between private and public morality has adverse effects, as it opens the door for

patrimonialism (For example, individuals do not feel shame embezzling public funds to

fulfill private responsibilities, nonetheless they may consider themselves religiously

devout). It deprives the state of a spiritual endowment it could utilize to do development,

thereby overcoming its distance from the society. Badie and Birnbaum (1983) contend

that the political development espoused by the colonials has split "third world societies in

two: one segment of society derives its legitimacy from the desire for modernization,

while the other strives to preserve national traditions without any effort of adaptation or

reform" (Badie and Birnbaum 1983: 99). Not surprisingly, colonialism succeeded in its

original plan: portraying modernity and traditionalism as running at cross-purposes.

To be modern was to be free from ties of community and tradition and live instead
with forms of regulation that were formal, specified, and impersonal, whereas to be
moral was to live with common cultural values and strongly inscribed traditions
that effectively denied democracy, individual self-development, and equality. In
short, one could have either individual rights without binding moral codes or
binding moral codes without individual rights. (Wolfe 1989: 191-192)

Nevertheless, says Schulze, "traditional Islamic culture" did not disappear. "The

bastion of that tradition remained mysticism. The movements of rebellion against

colonialism were based on this traditional culture, and the hostility between it and

colonialism was extended to relations with the official Islam that colonialism had

created" (Asad 2003: 21). This form of "conservative Islam" will continue its









collaboration with state elites even after its independence. The failure of the post-colonial

state will deprive the state appointed scholars (ulama) of leadership position their

counterparts had at the beginning of the 20th century. The vacuum will be filled by

modernist elites.15 Unlike their predecessors, the conservatives, who accepted their role

as an instrument of the state, the Islamists use the state to achieve their religious objective

of wanting to establish an "Islamic state." The characteristics of this state will be

examined carefully in the coming sections. However, it behooves the reader to recognize

that the project of "civilizing" the Muslim population, one that justified the use of force,

is one that modernists forces, be it Islamists or communists, share with the colonial

masters. Marnia Lazreg contends,

The Islamist's aim is not to 're-Islamize' people as is often said. Rather, it
recolonizes private and public spaces by infusing them with new meanings and
norms derived from ideational and behavioral sources that sound familiar to
individuals because they are expressed in the Arabic language and refer to a
monolithic Islam.(Lazreg in Ahmida 2000: 149)

Though their treatment of Sufism as irrational is objectionable from a philosophical

standpoint (something that complicated their conceptualization of education and caused

them to mystify rather than analyze history, see Chapter 4), it alienated the center which

was spiritually connected and already had meager economic ties with the periphery. The

advocacy of modernist forces --both secularists (who during the course of the Cold War

existed either as Socialists Naserist forces or Communists Leninist forces) and Islamists

(who existed either as conservative traditionalists or radical modernists)-- a "monolithic

approach to truth," that is, ideological approach to power, denied them malleability they



15 They are modem in the sense that they use the institutions of the modem state to achieve their objectives
and not necessarily adhere to the philosophical and sociological roots of modernity, that is, they do not
promise liberalism, they present old ideas in modem cloth.









could have used to swiftly move between irony and ideology. For example, Jamal Abd al-

Naser mobilized ethnicity as the "natural" source of political and social cohesion

(Eickelman and Piscatori 1992). However, as honest an effort to contain ethnicity under

the umbrella of an Arab superordinate identity, it failed to stand the test of "authenticity."

First, it was challenged locally by Islamists who questioned its intellectual/spiritual

validity to combat an enemy, Israel, that was only growing stronger. Second, its political

utility proved useless when it got proposed as a model of development to countries with

culturally heterogeneous societies, such as Sudan or Morocco. Tibi contends, "The core

of ethnicity resides in the socially produced and ever-changing quartet of common myths,

memories, values and symbols. Thus, ethnicity cannot be properly defined in terms of

static cultural elements, such as Arabness, or shared essential religious beliefs, such as

Sunni Islam" (Tibi 2002: 127, 136).

The more political challenge Naser --or his disciples of the Arab world-- faced the

more they resorted to the masculine feature of the legal state, force, and they relinquished

its feminist component, symbolism. Not surprisingly, force created its antithesis. Muslim

Brothers who aided President Naser in his ascension to power challenged him using

Islamic ideology that gained salience, especially after the Israeli defeat of Egypt in the

1967 War. They presented a "modernized formulation of the idea that Islam is the

archetype of the world," to borrow Abdou Filali-Ansary's expression, which suited the

emotions of already stressed populations (Ansary 2003: 5). Themselves suffering the

disruption and dislocation of modernity (Tibi 2002), Muslim Brothers presented a model

that insisted on divine authority as arbiter of not only religious but also political and

social life, a concept Qutb calls hakemeya --God's Sovereignty (Eubenne 1999: 22).









Qutb considers the implementation of the sharia the responsibility of the state. The

mixing of nonsacral politics with a sacral understanding of religion is problematic in

many ways (Soroush 2000: 60). First, this mixing overlooks functional differentiation as

a basic feature that separates the modern state.16 Hourani contends, "The inexorable

development of law, of administration and of economic life was bringing about a de facto

separation of the religious and secular spheres" (Hourani 1981: 185). This eased a burden

that religion endured for centuries --establishing communitarian bond necessary for the

existence of humans as a socio-political entity (Galyoun 1991). It was only in the last two

centuries that the concept of citizenship evolved, which gave humans a chance to identify

through administrative/political rather than primordial ties. This necessitated a

transformation of the classic concept of supreme sovereignty to elective and contractual

sovereignty, as a prelude to legitimation based on popular support and not personalized

authority (Lewis 1988). Modernity has shaken the fundamentalist claim "that certain

truths about the nature and purpose of community life are absolute and self-evident"

(Eubenne 1999:13). This of itself is a significant achievement because only now, unlike

any other time in the history of Muslims, can the fulfillment of the Islamic aspirations

become part and parcel of the democratic process (Khurshid 2000).

Introspectively speaking, the ideology of the Muslim Brothers was not less

authoritarian than Naserism. It revitalized elements of the despotic model of the Abbasid

Amir, which suited the heritage of the colonial state and which Muslims until today

confuse with the model of Prophet Mohamed (PBUH)and the Four Righteous Caliphates,

thus giving it sentimental if not historical credibility. Naserism inevitably gave way to the


16 Vatikiotis asserts, "The wedding of Islam to a modem state is not a straightforward preposition
(Vatikiotis in Cudsi and Dessouki" 1981: 193).









rise of Pan-Islamism. After all, Muslims blamed Turkish nationalism --though

incorrectly-- for the demise of the Ottoman Empire as the bastion against the

advancement of Imperialism in Muslim lands. Islamists accuse Arab nationalism of

conspiring to help erect the Zionist state in exchange for guarantees by the British and the

French to secure their monarchies. Collaboration between conservative regimes in the

region and Western powers became evident the more the enemy assumed control of

Muslim lands (Abu-Zaid 2000). Israel was to grow stronger at the expense of weakening

the Arab world. Democratization of Muslim countries was either resisted or completely

thwarted. Pushed to its logical conclusion, democracy could elect forces that would resist

American exploitation of the region, and therefore threaten its economic interest. It is an

act of fate that Palestine should become the point of confrontation between Islam and the

West, between a civilization motivated by faith and an empire propelled by materialism

(Ahmad 1992). It is under these circumstances that extremists became representatives of

both camps. Radical Islamists push forward a cultural argument that pays no attention to

global economic interdependence as a de facto reality, leaving no room for illusion of

demarcation between the Muslim and the "infidel" (referred to in conventional

nomenclature as dar al-hard and dar al-Islam). Christian fundamentalists sell their

biblical fallacies to consumerist societies in a capitalist cloth (Ali 2002).

Islamic Revivalism: Adaptation or Retreat

To better understand how regional/international circumstances influenced regime

change in the Muslim world, we need to complement cultural/ideological displacement

that Muslims had undergone with economic transformation that colonial developmental

policies introduced to the region, (refer to Figure 1). "Reinhard Schulze once asked a

question most historians have taken for granted: Why did nineteenth-century Islamic









reformers take so eagerly to the European interpretation of Islamic history as one of

civilizationall decadence?' The interesting answer he gives refers to political and

economic changes, as well as to the cultural consequences of print. European capitalism,

he points out, transformed the 18th century mode of surplus extraction through rent into a

system of unequal exchange between metropolis and colony. Because the traditional

forms of political legitimation were now no longer appropriate to the colonial situation,

he argues, a new ideological creed emerged out of the social-economic disintegration of

the old society and of the effects of print on its culture. European historical reason

(including the notion of an Islamic Golden Age followed by a secular decline under the

Ottomans) was adopted by the new elites, he suggests, via books from and about Europe,

as well as the Islamic "classics" selected for printing by European orientalists and by

Westernized Egyptians. That civilizational discourse could now be used, concludes

Schulze, to legitimize the claim to equality and independence" (Assad 2003: 218). These

claims were articulated by elites who by virtue of reasonable exposure to Western or

Eastern ideas, respectively, originating from Europe (France, Britain) and the Islamic

centers (Egypt, Saudi Arabia, and so forth), entrusted by traditional leaders to carry the

nation building process.

For reasons we will discuss later (see Chapter 4), elites privileged with Western

education were better equipped intellectually to take over from colonials and thereby lead

their countries to Independence. Although the colonials favored the "nobility" with

educational opportunities, it was the economically disadvantaged that played an

antagonist role, not necessarily an instrumental one. Collaboration between these two

groups was instrumental to reducing the human cost of resisting colonialism. It was not









long before the economic interest of morally conservative forces collided head to head

with morally liberal elitist groups that were determined to use the state to politically and

economically challenge the status quo. Marxism was destined to fail in the Arab/Muslim

world because it relinquished the very tool --spirituality-- that the center used to

traditionally maintain its link with the periphery. There were no class interests in the

underdeveloped world that stood independent of Islam. It could have articulated to

overcome the distance between the center and the periphery. The Baathist regime of Iraq

was among the last survivals of socialism. In addition to exogenous variables, it survived

longer due to its flexibility and willingness to engage, though manipulatively and

exploitatively, some cultural components, be it ethnicity (such as Arabs versus Kurds in

Iraq) and/or religion (Almohads /Shiite versus Sunnis in Syria or Iraq). Cultural symbols

did not prove malleable --at least not in the hands of modernists' forces-- because by

virtue of being statist, they ignored society efforts for reform. Conservative amalgams,

who were then the representatives of the masses (as authoritarian as that may be ruled by

libertarian standards, they inherited the allegiance of the masses), became very distrustful

of elite agenda, which it considered radical, and consequently mobilized cultural

resources to combat socialist/communist forces. Sharia was instrumental in this regard. It

influenced the advance of politics for quite a long time along a cultural dimension. It was

not until recently, that is, precisely with the rise of Islamists to power, such as in Sudan,

did this Uni-dimensionality start disappearing. That is to say, the economic dimension

become visible.

The end of the Cold War, which for a long time provided impunity for allies of

both camps, had the effect of forcing regimes to face political realities that extended









along economic and cultural domains. In the Islamic Leviathan, Nasr argues that

"islamization must be understood in terms of both its defensive function --a response to

political and ideological challenges to ruling regimes at times of crisis-- and its proactive

function, to get better terms in negotiations with social forces for power and capacity."

What appeared to some as a pseudo-cultural response to modernity was actually a

"conscious strategic choice," on behalf of elites who wanted to ideologically overcome

the distance between the center and the periphery. He continues, "Islamism doesn't

purport to be some form of liberalism"--as it does not engage the problematic of the

dominant of the state .. nor alter the scaffolding that sustains its edifice as in the case of

Iran. It merely repackages the postcolonial state as Islamic, that is, gives it a cultural

reorientation (Nasr 2001: 17, 106).

The choice of high Islam was strategic to modernist groups, this time Islamists,

who favored the center over the periphery. They denounced as obsolete the attempt of the

state to direct national economy and instead used the market as their vehicle to personal

wealth. The more they ignored the economic and political demands of the periphery the

more the racial hierarchy that facilitated such exploitation became visible. Religion is

related to ethnicity inasmuch as political groups are chiefly ethnoreligious in their

ideological composition. Tibi correctly asserts, "this new phenomenon can be observed

throughout the world of Islam, but perhaps most clearly in Afghanistan, where three

major ethnic groups --the Pashtun, Tadjik, and Uzbek-- struggle for power, in the name

of religion. In the multiethnic Afghan society, we see clearly that religion does not unite,

but rather is mingled with, ethnicity as a divisive force. In Afghanistan and in Sudan,

ethnic fragmentation undermines the capabilities of the Islamic fundamentalists, and in









Sudan the fundamentalists are in power."17 It took Muslims of western Sudan decades to

realize that this notion of an "Islamic State" --one that justified declaring jihad against

southern Christians-- was nothing more than an ideology northerners used to continue

their hegemony over the rest of the country. In contrast to ideological Islam that spared

no effort to exploit these cleavages, the Darfur conflict is a case in point. Sufi Islam

through the centuries diffused ethnic tension between Arabs and Africans in western

Sudan. Not only so but also ameliorated the frictions between pagans, Christians, and

Muslims all over the African and Asian continents. Filali-Ansary asserts, "The realization

that Islam, properly understood, is not a system of social and political regulation frees up

space for cultures and nations --in the modern sense of those words-- to lay the

foundations of collective identity" (Filali-Ansary 2003: 9). As a reaction to the

political/ideological imposition of Islam, some scholars have made the case for popular

Islam as only a system of ethics. Inasmuch as Sufism remains the link of the center with

the periphery, it needs to be enticed to participate directly in the political process.

Relegating Sufism to the spiritual realm is equivalent to giving it a carte blanche to

access the political corridor through the back door, that is, practice politics under the

auspices of tyrants (Cudsi 1983).

Aside from adopting wrong developmental strategies, which in most cases were

exogenously influenced, these forces made no effort to change the aforementioned

characteristics that identified colonial rule. They contrasted distinctive high Islam that of

the center --with diffusive low Islam-- that of the periphery, and they decreed the low

Islam as irrational. In so doing, they separated religious prudence, which was expressed


1 Islam became associated with remote provincial communities, whose earlier religious association
gradually became ethnicized (Tibi 2002: 131).










in total and uncompromising terms from ethics of the public that historically evolved

outside the corridor of political power. This incursion justified the use of force and spared

Islam "the Sufi love of Ibn Arabi, the reason-based orientation of Ibn Rushd, the

historicizing thought of Ibn Khaldun, and al-Farabi's secular concept of order" (Tibi

2002). I would add the humanism of Rumi, the courage of Halag, the intellectual integrity

of Ahmad b. Hanbal, and so forth.18 These are the needed seeds for an Islamic

enlightenment that can liberate the Muslim mind and soul from the domain of medieval

theology. Between the Muslim and accessing his rich heritage are thick layers of

interpretation that can only be accessed epistemologically, not ideologically or

dogmatically (Arkoun 1999; Abu-Zaid 1996; Al-Sharafi 2001; Harb 2000; Al-jabri 2001;

Filali-Ansary 2003).

Modernity and Modernization: Different Notions and definitions

Democracy as meaning governmental structures that ensure alternation in

governance, transparency in governance, and accountability to the governed (Diamond

2003) is a necessary not sufficient condition.19 It needs to be substantiated with education

as a tool that can expose Muslims to the modern-day achievements, as well as give them


8i Bellah asserts, "The Hanbalis, ass we have noted, were the only school that allowed a wife to claim
dissolution of her marriage if her husband married a second wife in breach of a prior agreement not to do
so. By today's standards, Ahmad b. Hanbal was a liberal. Even though Saudi Arabia adopts his school
thought, its family laws reflect cultural impositions than sharia precepts. Also, Asian Muslims, mainly
Pakistani and Indians, rigidly adhere to the Hanafi school of thought, but they fail to realize that their
mazhab "represent eclectic amalgams of the doctrines of the four schools" (Coulson 1965: 85).

19 In his article The Elusive Reformation, El-Affendi asserts, "The question of whether liberal democracy
can be given a 'truly' Islamic basis is unanswerable, since there cannot conceivably be any Islamic
democratic movement which is untouched by the influences and challenges of Western liberal-democratic
thought and practice. Meanwhile, any modern Islamic reform movement trumpeting its liberal-democratic
potential begs the question of whether religious-cum-cultural reform is a precondition for democratization,
since to cite favorably the presumed liberal-democratic potential of a particular interpretation of Islam is to
assume that there is already a broad Muslim constituency for liberalism and democracy as things desirable
in and of themselves. Not all those classified as 'Muslim liberals' base their liberalism on theological
assumptions; in fact the majority do not" (El-Affendi 2003: 1).










an opportunity to revitalize elements in their heritage that can help with the promotion of

principles of pluralism, tolerance, and inclusivity-- values that are embedded in current

international efforts to foster democracy around the world. Although Masmoudi

considers liberal Islam "the nascent voice of the Muslim world's silenced majority"

(Masmoudi 2003: 4,1), this section asserts that the term "liberal" does not precisely

capture the pervasive ideological orientation. The majority of Muslims are not liberal,

they are moderates. The Muslim lives values of individual liberty, human dignity, and

human rights in his moral consciousness not in their social or political reality. Influential

events happened along the history of Islam, as I have explicated in previous sections -

that made the individual submissive to the family, the society subservient to the state, and

the state (ummah) incapable of translating prophetic prescriptions into a universal vision

(Filali-Ansary 2003: 7), rather than expect the opposite.20
















20 "On the surface it is more than a clash of cultures, more than a confrontation of races: it is a straight fight
between two approaches to the world, two opposed philosophies. And under the great complexity of the
structures involved --the layers of history, the mosaic of cultures-- we can simplify in order to discover the
major positions. One is based in secular materialism, the other in faith; one has rejected belief altogether,
the other has placed it at the center of its world-view. It is, therefore, not simply between Islam and the
West --although many Muslims and non-Muslims who are brought up to believe in this simplistic formula
will be surprised at this conclusion. On the threshold of the twenty-first century the confrontation between
Islam and the West poses terrible internal dilemmas for both. The test for Muslims is how to preserve the
essence of the Quranic message, of adl and ahsan, ilm and sabr, without it being reduced to an ancient and
empty chant in our times; how to participate in the global civilization without their identity being
obliterated. It is an apocalyptic test; the most severe examination" (Ahmed 1992: 264).









State-oriented Reform




Turkey and Iran under the Mullahs
Baathists Iraq Sudan under Turabi



Lib Isl Lit Isl






SIran under the Pahlavi dynasty





Society-oriented Reform

Figure 2-1: Basic Parameters Determining Islam's Relation to Democracy.

Muslims accept democracy as a means that can moderate politics peacefully. But

Muslims may not necessarily be receptive to a reconceptualization of religious doctrine

that grants women, Muslim minorities (Shiites living in a predominantly Sunni majority,

or vice versa), and non-Muslims their economic, political, and social rights. Concepts

such as dar-al-harb/dar-al-Islam (land of Muslims versus infidels), dheme (Christian or

Jew), and hareem (isolation of women in private places) still permeate Muslim culture,

both politically and socially. This is not to say anything negative about Islam but to

remind the reader of the extent that "Islam has often been described as an egalitarian

religion and, in a profound sense, this is true, the world into which Islam came at the time

of its advent in the seventh century was very far from egalitarianism." Lewis offers three









inequalities in particular were established and regulated by law and developed through

centuries of usage: the unequal status of master and slave, of man and woman, of Muslim

and non-Muslim. These are, of course, three different kinds of classifications, which may

overlap or intersect, and the practical effects of belonging to one or other of these

categories varied greatly from time to time and from place to place (Lewis 1988: 65,66).

The rising popularity of Islamist trends, Abdalwahab El-Affendi argues, "has

created a fear among liberals that democratic forms may hand power to illiberal

Islamists." (El-Affendi 2003: 3). For them, "The introduction of electoral democracy

without the existence of constitutional liberties will mean electoral victories for illiberal

Islamists who would (ab)buse their new institutionally-recognized political power to

destroy the most basic civil liberties, even eliminating elections themselves" (Zakaria

2004:108). Surprisingly, despots have used these genuine scholarly concerns to sabotage

the democratic process. They adopted tools that further embedded the Islamist

"salvationist" appeal. Nasr correctly asserts, "In many cases, the secularization drive

pushed religion out of the public sphere where it could no longer be effectively regulated

or controlled by the state. As a result, religion --made more politically conscious--

festered in the private arena as a potential source of support for opposition to the state and

its ideology. In Pahlavi Iran, the Islamic Revolution of 1979 resulted from exactly this

process. As a result, Islam remained important to politics in Muslim states, and ultimately

ruling regimes admitted to this as they turned to the repertoire of Islamic symbols and

cultural tools to shore up their authority. The outward secular image of the state therefore

was in contradiction to its own use of Islamic cultural manifestations" (Nasr 2001: 21). It

is not as much the manipulation of cultural symbols that these regimes exercised but the









oligopoly that they used to reign over power without attempting to rationalize the

structure and working of state institutions that contributed to their bankruptcy.

Williamson differentiates between culture, institutional environment, and governmental

structure. He asserts that each has a life cycle of its own; culture being at the deepest

level (L1) assumes a life of 1,000 years,21 institutional environment at the second deepest

level (L2) persists for 100 years, and governmental structures (L3) not as deeply rooted

10 years (Williamson 2000).

This theory elegantly resolves the dilemma that scholars have over which level

comes first: cultural features or institutional norms. They have to be compatible in design

and orientation. Manipulation of cultural symbols provides the consensus needed to steer

development in the right direction without resorting to violence. Without hegemony

governance becomes an impossibility, too much of it kills dissent and eventually causes

apathy.22 Evans contends, "Re-examining the developmental state means rethinking

embedded autonomy. In developmental states, connectedness has meant ties with

industrial elites. Can embedded autonomy also be built around ties to other groups?"

(Evans 1995: 228) In the absence of material links, state elites cannot extract resources

without influencing or even manipulating "thinkability."23 To make the latter

operationable, development has to go beyond that what is material; it has to revitalize

21 The theocratic model of the Abbasid dynasty, which Al-jabri claims have influenced the beginning of
authoritarianism in Islam, had been established exactly 10 centuries ago, that is, 1,000 years (Al-jabri
2001).

22 Liberalism remains an illusion in the Western world, that is, individuals live within a cage in which they
do not detect its presence; authoritarianism is the antinomian in the Muslim world where all that the
individual sees is the bars of the cage.

23 That is to say make a distinction between those who think politics like conservative groups (sufis in the
periphery) and those who think politically like modernist forces (Islamists in the center) in the Muslim
world.










education and reconfigure spaces for political socialization. This is precisely the

predicament of political change in the developing Muslim world: it is dependent on

historical immaterialism and not historical materialism.24

Whereas individualism (that is, economic liberty) was the tool by which a

European gained his individuality, i.e., political freedom remains the Muslims' only

means to changing conditions of subjugation. It is along the economic dimension that

revolution occurred in Europe.25 In the Muslim/African world, there is not enough socio-

economic stratification that can cause a political revolution; it is along the cultural

dimension that revolution occurs in this part of the world. This paper asserts that

education, a major realm in which the state exists and builds its power relations culture

(Mitchell 1988: 76), has been used by most Muslim states to reproduce rather than

overcome the pathologies of politics.26 Ehteshami contends,

The process from liberalization/pluralization to democratization in the Muslim
world is riddled with contradictions. The inherent tensions, which mark the
boundaries between the civil and religious power, offer another unique but
important barrier which is yet to be overcome if Islam and democracy are to

24 In full-fledged capitalist societies, the state has developed over the course of the centuries enough
material links that it can use to influence the way they think about themselves. This collective identity is
maintained, refined, or redefined through a redistribution of resources to which the state plays a central
role.
25 "In Europe the contribution of religion to state formation was rooted less in economic considerations, and
more in ethics" (Nasr 2001: 19).

26 Despite commitment to secularism, the monarchies in Morocco and Saudi Arabia associate themselves
with Islam in different forms: Sharifian principle --genealogization of charisma to the Prophet, and
religious leadership of the ummah (whole nation), respectively. While the king claims to be a descendent of
Prophet Mohamed, the king of Saudi Arabia strives to be the leader of the Muslim ummah. Though Saudi
Arabia and Morocco attempt to keep the state pure from societal penetration, religion is not granted
autonomy from the state. These two countries allocate a sizable budget to domesticate Islam in accordance
with the needs of the state. Regimes of this type combine the worst of both modernity and traditionalism.
They use the tutelaryy power" of the state to erect hierarchies of power, prestige and privilege (Tocqueville
2004:52), that effectively deny democracy, individual self-development, and equality (Wolf 1989:191).
Needless to say, the religious demand of political conformity of this kind can produce schizophrenics at
best and hypocrites at worst, but not believers.









emerge as complementary forces in modern Muslim societies. So in this context,
the pursuit of the agenda of constitutionalism and good governance, which largely
avoid some of the ideological underpinnings of the western 'democratic model'
might still bear fruit, particularly if systematically pursued in Muslim polities with
pluralizing tendencies and embedded horizontal features of democracy. (Ehteshami
2004:107)

Can "steering," which is the layman's expression for governance, be done without

causing cultural fatigue or deeming institutions ineffective? Does democratic rule

necessarily imply a cultural reorientation that links the individual with his inner self, the

society with its various organs, and the state with its variegate components? What role

can international factors play in expanding the scope of governance beyond lib/lit duality

to a rights/duties spectrum?














CHAPTER 3
ISLAM AND THE POLITICS OF STATE FORMATION: SUDAN AND MOROCCO
IN HISTORICAL PERSPECTIVE

Prior to colonialism, politics in Islamic countries was conducted almost exclusively

within the literal tradition. Politics was about immaterial values, a phenomenon that gave

particular weight to those who were best suited to interpret the religious text and/or use

those immaterial values to mobilize popular support: official scholars (ulama), non-

official scholars relying on mysticism (sufis), and/or blood lineage to the Prophet

Mohammed (sharifs). Because of the competition between these groups and the scope for

different interpretations of the religious texts, this kind of politics tended to be unstable. It

veered between efforts to centralize control and escape from it. The history of Islam in

Sudan and Morocco --as elsewhere-- is characterized by this struggle between centripetal

and centrifugal forces: the ulama trying to centralize and the sufis to disaggregate and

decentralize power.

Although the religious and political configurations in Morocco and Sudan bore a

definite resemblance because of their incorporation into the Islamic world, there were

also differences that stem from their relation to Islamic authority in the Mashreg (East),

notably Saudi Arabia and what is now Iraq, as well as the geographic conditions of the

two countries. Thus, centralization of authority to a monarch proved easier in Morocco

because of the religio-poliltical dialectic between the Maghreb (Islamic Spain/ Al-

Andalusia) and the Mashreq. Also, the possibility of establishing central control thanks to

a system of irrigated agriculture. The prevalence of rain-fed agriculture in the Sudan and









its peripheral position in relation to religious authority made Sufism and disaggregation of

authority more dominant.

Such were the differences that existed at the time of European colonization of

Africa. The French became the masters of Morocco; the British, following the weak reign

of Ottoman rulers, took control of Sudan, albeit only after having quelled a major

rebellion. With exposure to what was gradually emerging as the liberal tradition within

these countries, politics changed in colonial days by becoming more stable and

influenced by a wider range of variables. The social and political tensions were no longer

confined merely to those within the literal tradition. Conflicts between the literal and

liberal traditions took on increasing significance and became the basis for the formation

of new political parties, spanning the full spectrum from theocratic literalism to secular

communism, an issue to be further explored in Chapter 4.

The purpose of this chapter is to present the gradual evolution of politics within the

Islamic tradition in Morocco and Sudan, demonstrating the similarities and differences. It

follows a historical trajectory by first discussing the political dynamics in these countries

prior to colonialism, and second by focusing on changes during the colonial period. It

ends at the time of independence in the mid-20th century.

Centripetal and Centrifugal Tendencies in Pre-colonial Days

Historians and scholars of contemporary Islam have made the tension between

centripetalism and centrifugalism a major theme in describing the essence of politics in

Islamic societies (Hourani 1981; Al-Jabri 2001; Hodgson 1977; and Lewis 1988). It goes

as far back as the time when Islam first crossed the desert of Arabia to northern Africa.

The dynamics of sufis pulling toward the periphery (centrifugal force) and mahdis

(messianic leaders) pulling toward the center (centripetal force) influence the interplay of









religion and politics in both Morocco and Sudan (Stiansen and Kevane 1998; Duran

1985; Degorge 2000; Warburg 1995). Since both countries are at the "periphery" of the

Islamic world, this tension remained more political than religious. The ability of rulers to

overcome such tendency depended much on the geography of their countries,

topography, socio-cultural context, and, more importantly, political developments that

preceded and/or followed the arrival of colonialism to the African continent (al-Geibli

1987; Hammoudi 1997).

Institutional Basis of "Obedience"

The political dominance of particular families, mainly the sharifs, scholars (ulama

orfugaha), and/or Sufis,explains the prevalence of"obedience" in Morocco and Sudan.

This value spread in the form of baraka --blessing-- and permeated the two cultures with

different intensity and extensity. As it requires dedication and special pedagogical

training, it was more common among settlers than pastoralists. In addition to occupation,

the topography of the two countries influenced their socio-political differences. Morocco

succeeded in centralizing power through its monopoly over physical resources --mainly

cultivatable land that was limited and mountainous-- and forceful mobilization of human

and physical resources that was legitimate in the face of imminent danger from the

Crusaders, and, at a later stage, Portuguese and Spanish invaders. On the contrary, Sudan

faced limited external threat and had vast amounts of flat accessible land, which thwarted

the state's ability to create an economic hierarchy or feudal aristocracy by which it could

steer the process of political development in the direction required by the Caliphate.

Proximity of the Magreb to Islamic Religious Authority

In his book, State, S.Nimiien,, and Space at the Middle Magreb, Al-Geible cites

four states in the history of Morocco that fit the definition of a centrist state that had









successful monopoly over spiritual and material resources (al-Geible 1987). These states

include: the Almuravids (the Almuravids 1100 A.D.); Almohads (the Almohads -1200

AD), mareeniyeen (1450 A.D.); and sa'daeen (1600 A.D.). Without exception, each of

these dynasties accused its predecessors of collaborating with the invaders. The

Moroccan/Islamic territory was continuously threatened by the Crusaders after the

demise of the Umayyad Caliphate in Al-Andalusia (today's Spain), and each dynasty

relinquished its duty of guarding the public morality. To have exclusive monopoly over

politics, or at least not feel obliged to consult the indigenous populations, rulers

throughout the history of the Maghreb sought to align themselves with an external source

of power. Also, due to the complexity of the society and the undulating circumstances,

none of the rulers could maintain as their priority "enjoining good and forbidding evil."

Each of these four dynasties imposed its vision of morality through the adaptation

of a sectarian religious doctrine: 1) adarisa introduced Shiite Zaideya/Isma'eliya; 2)

Almuravids adopted the Maliki Sunni school of thought; 3) Almohads had links to a

Shiite Mutazelaite; 4) and Asa'rhaite doctrines (specifically Mohamed Al-Wattassi was a

Shiite who made Shiism the dominant mazhab or religious doctrine of the state), was

later inherited by the mareeniyeen. These doctrines did not necessarily reflect the

aspiration of the local population as much as the surrounding dynamics. The state in the

Magreb (northeast Africa) enjoyed relative independence. Oftentimes it aligned

religiously with the state in Mashreg --Abbasids in Baghdad-- to gain political support

whenever it could afford to establish its own religious authority. That often gave the local

authority impunity that justified discrimination, persecution, and torture against

tribal/societal forces that were not aligned with the ruling regime.









The polemical environment that existed in the Mashreg (east of Arabia), as a result

of the Kharjite revolt (724 A.D.) against the religiously established authority, caused the

migration of some of the sharifs --descendents of the Prophet Mohamed. The most

prominent among them was Mulaye Idris toward the Maghreb. The Abbasid Caliphate

(1234 A.D.). Haroon Arrasheed, feared the mobilization of his opponents for the

emotionally charged environment and consequently persecuted all the sharifs. Mulaye

Idris fled the Mashreg with his servant, was received by the Berber tribes who embraced

Islam and later made him a king. His assassination by an agent of the Caliphate took a

psychological hold of the masses so much so that some insisted on opening his grave

sometime after his death. They found fresh blood coming out of his body, thus

confirming his welaya, sainthood. Mulaye Idris did not live long. Nonetheless, his legacy

will for centuries define the tripartite of power: sharifism, scholarship, and sufism (of

which mahdism or millenarianism is but one manifestation). For example, Ibni Tomart,

who was the founder of the Almohads dynasty, was a Mahdi (see glossary for definition),

an Imam (equivalent of a fagih), and a descendent of Idris II, who is a descendent of Idris

I. Also, Alaouite, the ruling dynasties of today's Morocco, are descendents of Mulaye

Idris. Those who lacked any of these credentials had to make up or form a coalition with

someone who had it. For example, mareeniyeen considered themselves direct heirs of

Almohads. Sa'daeen redefined sharf (honor that one receives through his blood lineage to

the Prophet Mohamed) to religious purity. Abd al-Rahman contends that sharifism is a

strategy that attempts to rejuvenate political asceticism that manifested itself in al-Hassan

b. Ali and/or courage in facing religious authoritarianism that rested greatly with his









younger brother al-Hussein b. Ali, both being the descendents of the Prophet from his

daughter Fatima and his cousin-in-law Ali b. abi-Talib (Abd al-Rahman 1997).

The great historian, b. kuldoun, is the first to have pointed out this phenomenon. He

commented, "anytime you have a religious fervor and a tribal bond (asabeya), you will

have a state in the Arab world" (Rosenthal 1981). The sultan engaged his forces in jihad,

and when danger was eminent at home, he accused his opposition of apostasy or rida.

This was zealous, according to Al-Geibli, that manifested itself locally. Since there was

literally no room for politics, tribal people resorted to Sufism/Welaya as a form of

passive resistance that could help diffuse the power of the center. Later, they collected

their forces to face a decaying regime in the form of Mahdism/Sharifism. Power resides

in the form of fagih, leaves the center in the form of welaya (sainthood), and returns to it

in the form of mahdaweya (millenarianism). People seek refuge in Sufism from the

rigidity of theology, accept Sharifism (the origin of the word .\,/l/,f means "honor") to

regain religious purity, and submit to Islamic jurisprudence (fiqh) to maintain political

stability.

Through their control of travel routes, Al-Geibi argues, the Almuravids succeeded

in monopolizing, if not completely homogenizing, the socio-political space (Al-Geibli

1989:76,77). Bin-Tashfeen, the leader of the Almuravids state (who was called Amir Al-

Muslemeen, translated Prince of Muslims), is the first to have attempted to manage the

diffusiveness of power and to reduce the petal-fugal tension in favor for the latter. To do

this they made alignments with people of their own ethnic background and others whom

they could entrust with guarding the road in exchange for rewards in the form of prestige

or material gain. Looting, killing, and kidnapping were the norm rather than the anomaly.









It did not escape the attention of natives to ascribe some mystical/super qualities to a

person who traveled alone and arrived safely to his destination. Some historians contend

that traveling at this time was so dangerous that religious scholars had to issue a decree

making "voluntary" the obligatory religious duty of the pilgrimage. Moroccans, who did

not feel a need to pay allegiance to the central authority, continued performing the

pilgrimage by paying dues to these shift (individuals engaged in the act of armed

robbery).1 However, the central authority did not limit its focus to controlling transport

routes. It spread its influence through various and oftentimes cruel means, which included

displacement of rural inhabitants, forceful acquisition of their belongings, and

appropriations of land. Through its agents in the rural areas, the state forced the peasants

into bringing their crops to the center. The state later distributed these crops to whomever

it pleased, thereby obtaining the loyalty of tribal/religious patrons. The erection of a

social hierarchy, along with the manipulation of religious symbols, spared the central

authority excessive use of force. According to al-Geibli, the term "Makzan" (which

literally means the "storage house") was representative of such a function --at least in

formal writings- towards the beginning of the 13th century (al-Geibli 1987). The Makzan

remains the institution that coordinates the activities of the palace today. Although it is no

longer dependent on extraction of resources from the periphery, the Makzan remains a

central player in politics by promoting its role as reconciler among power seekers. The

Makzan has no power of its own. It gains its influence by depicting the weaknesses of

others, but, more importantly, playing them against each other. Further developments

along the history of Morocco made the periphery more manageable.


1 This persistence reflects in the devoutness of Moroccans today to their religious duties, especially
performing a pilgrimage. I have seen people, for example, who cry when denied visas to the sacred lands.









Al-Karsani, Chairman of the Political Science Department at the University of

Khartoum/Sudan, asserts that the Alaouite dynasty in Morocco used hydro-politics to

successfully integrate the rural areas (PR. AAK. Spring of 2003). The center controlled

the agrarian population through its strict management of irrigation dams for agriculture. It

made allegiance to the king a condition to obtaining access to water resources.

Sustenance was passed to the stomach of natives in the form of 'obedience.' By accepting

the ordinance of the king, who is also the Leader of the Faithful, Believers are not being

submissive; they are being good servants of Allah. In contrast, Al-Karsani contends the

rural population in Sudan could not have been as well integrated because it simply

depended on rain, in addition to the availability of land. He asserts that rain-fed areas in

large part remain apolitical. The followers of sufi sheiks, such as wad-Hassouna, Abu-

murain, Wad al-Arbab, by far exceed the number of followers who belong to the two

large sects --Khatmeyya and Ansar-- but they are not organized. The history of Sudan

therefore remains greater than to be reached by ideological Islam, and its geography is

wider than to be limited to the sectarian domain defined by the British. These are

peasants who had been beyond the reach of the state to organize and beyond the capacity

of any party to organized. They had for a long time been out of the gravitational

attraction of any central power, be it spiritual or economic. "Capturing" these peasants

remains an arduous task, and moreover a costly exercise because they own their means of

production, to use Marxist terminology. More importantly, they move in the spiritual

orbit of sufi sheiks, who may not necessarily be apolitical but are cautious in dealing with

politics as it could very well diminish their authority (because they are already marginal).

Islamists amicably understood that spirituality immaterialityy) is the access to the









periphery in Sudan. However, instead of trying to reorient/synchronize the move of these

many spiritual orbits, they have tried eliminating them in the favor of "one central orbit."

History, geography, and topography may have favored Morocco in this regard, but

definitely not Sudan.

Tripartite of Power in Morocco

The Moroccan Kingdom has developed material and spiritual skills by which it has

overcome the periphery, but it has not completely thwarted the potential of its historic

rivals: sheriffs, sufis, and ulama --religious scholars. In spite of its embeddedness in

socio-cultural history, religious authority remains temporal in nature. That is to say, it can

be influenced materially through changing political, economic, and social circumstances.

By adopting baraka (blessing) as the paramount criterion of power, Berber tribes

span the balance of power in favor of sharifs, who saw themselves as kings with an

undisputed authority. The erection of a hierarchical authority of this kind defies

egalitarianism as a basic logic of any tribal institute. But by elevating himself above the

citizenry, the king sets himself the task of positioning his subjects against each other. For

example, a preferential treatment of the chieftain is strongly emphasized in the

sociological sense but disappears completely in the political sense. There is a protocol in

saluting him, not in expressing a concern or complaining about injustice. Unlike a king, a

chieftain cannot impose his vision on his subjects. He has to listen to be able to maintain

the balance within the tribal institute, which may exist in actuality or metaphorically in

the prevalence of conciliatory or compromise culture. Even though it was legitimate to

use just enough external pressure to maintain balance, Moroccan kings had sought the

assistance of outside sources to suppress dissent, albeit with various degrees. Indigenous









populations were helpless in as far as subverting the logic of Sharifism.2 But these people

used the zawya --sufi worship place-- to coordinate their rebellion that was legitimate by

the ulama. The ulama considered giving allegiance to anyone other than a Muslim ruler

an abrogation of religious creed. Embedded in this religious language is a political logic

that sees collaboration with outsiders as marginalizing the periphery in favor of the

center. It could be a spatial periphery meaning rural areas, or spiritual periphery

indicating those sufis, sharifs, and scholars who are not co-opted by the sultan. Inability

of the sultan to serf through the wave of sufis, sharifs, and scholars can result in the

authority of the former being challenged because he obtains his power from them in a

dialectical manner. For instance, Mulahi3 Abd al-Hafiz claimed to have sought the help

of the French Protectorate to administratively modernize government institutions. He was

removed by the ulama for having brought the French into the Moroccan land, and his

brother, Mulayi Yousif, who is the great-grandfather of the current king, was chosen in

his place (Attuzi 1999). Colonialism was by then a de facto reality that Moroccans had to

confront. The effort to remove the French created social and political dynamics that

helped consolidate the authority of the king.

Inadvertently, the French helped the king get rid of three strong historical

opponents, mainly sharifs, who spiritually represented the tribal interests, sufis who

provided the ethics needed to establish bonds beyond one's primordial ties, and the ulama

who were their spokesmen. By crushing tribal resistance, the French emasculated the



2 use Sharif with a capital 'S' to mean the central authority that claims lineage to the Prophet Mohamed.
and similarly for Sufism and scholarly religious authority; small letters to indicate those who exercise their
authority in the periphery.

3 A religious title of respect that people of northeast Africa use.









ability of sharifs to launch a millenarianist campaign from the periphery. Also, they put

under strict surveillance sufi sheiks they could not neutralize, absorb, or completely

eliminate. The French Protectorate changed the institutional basis of Al-Qaraween

University (most prestigious Islamic University in North Africa) to diffuse the authority

of religious scholars as representatives of social integrity. Once the king's political power

was completely thwarted, the French revived his spiritual authority to maintain the

internal balance of power. Although the sultan had no power and literally served as a

consultant for General Leyouti, he was portrayed to the public as the cornerstone of

Moroccan politics. This myth --that the king is the source of salvation of the umma or

nation-- had its origin in the consciousness of the individual Muslim. Nonetheless, it was

well woven --this time using the colonial authority.

In his prize-winning book, Azzawya wal-Hazib (translates Sufi Religious Center

and the Party), Azzahi asserts that elites were the local agents who helped the French

Protectorate -General Loyouti- achieve his objective of wanting to make the king the

central spiritual authority who replaced all other authorities (Azzahi 2003). It is

inconceivable that a foreign power could have succeeded in doing all this without help

from some influential national figures. Some of the early elites like Al-Fasi and

Balhassan Al-wazani, found it convenient to access politics from a religious door simply

because they had theological credentials; more importantly, they originated from families

and cities of special spiritual weight. Although there were structural/historical and

sociological factors that influenced their decision, they made a "rational choice" of

accessing politics from a non-political door. National elites set themselves the task of

pulling all strings of power and putting it in the king's hands. They inflated the sanctity









of the king as a sharif capable of overshadowing all other sharifs. They spared no effort

to become spokesmen for the King in religious circles, albeit not without resistance from

elderly and renowned scholars of Al-Qaraween University, such as Boushoa'ib Addakali

or Balarabi Al-A'laoui. Finally, elites had to overcome sufi figures if they were to have

access to a Moroccan popular basis that was predominantly religious, and if they

eventually were to become the king's spiritual proxies as a requisite to sharing political

power with the French Protectorate. The elites justified their sincere collaboration with

the Protectorate as a political enterprise aimed at protecting the national interest of the

country. Surprisingly, they considered the dealing of sufi figures with the colonial an act

of treason. Elites used the words "protectorate" and colonialism interchangeably; they

used "colonialism" when speaking about the sufis and emphasized "protectorate" in

reference to themselves.

Sudan's Limited Experience with Central Authority

Compared to Morocco, the politics in Sudan is off-centered both along the temporal

(development) and spiritual domains (identity). Already established kingdoms in the

periphery occasionally --and voluntary-- gravitated to the center that itself was not

politically unstable. Beswick contends,

The written history of present-day Northern Sudan goes back to biblical times. The
Egyptians called the land Kush, and added it to their empire. For about a century,
however, the princes of Kush seized Egypt itself and ruled it as the twenty-fifth
dynasty. When Egypt fell under foreign rule, the central Sudanese Kingdom of
Meroe (c.300 B.C.E. to 300 A.D.) preserved the ancient tradition for most of a
millennium. During the Middle Ages the Nubians established several new
Kingdoms and adopted Christianity (c.300-1300 A.D.). At the dawn of the modem
age in the early sixteenth century a new realm, Sinnar, was founded by a Muslim
African dynasty, the Funj. (Beswick 2004:13)


It is in this period (1504-1820) that Sudanese Islam gained some of its lasting
features. At the center of this Islam stood the Sufi shaykhs as archetypal figures









who provided the community with its spiritual sustenance. Besides, these shaykhs
were at the center of a complex socio-economic and political context and as such
they owned property and exercised a degree of political influence. The shaykhs
built their independent center of power vis-a-vis the state and other shaykhs. This
bestowed a great deal of prestige on the Sufi institution; so much so that when the
Sudanese eventually wanted to realize their salvation, it was only a shaykh
produced by this institution who could unite them and lead them into a revolution
that promised global salvation. (Mahmoud 1997:169)


That shaykh was Muhammad Ahmad b. Abd Allah (1844-1884). He had some

resemblance to the Wahhabist action-bound reform movement (refers to Muhammad b.

Abd al-Wahhab, 1792) of Hijaz, today's Saudi Arabia, and jihad movements of West

Africa, mainly that of Usman Dan Fodio in Nigeria, in the sense he had to declare jihad

against unjust rulers, who are nevertheless "Muslims." Also, to substantiate his claim, he

had to declare them "infidels."4 Since the British ruled Sudan in cooperation with the

Egyptian authority that paid allegiance to the Turkish Sultan, they operated under a

religious umbrella, that of the Great Muslim Caliphate in Istanbul.

The Turko-Egyptian government was not interested in colonizing Sudan, but it

manipulated Sudanese politics just enough to secure access to the slave trade and ivory

that passed from the southern part of the country through the north to Egypt (Holt and

Daly 1988; Stephanie Beswick 2004). Junior officers were stationed in major cities that

served the purpose of checkpoints more than actual military presence. Since Sudan was

seen as the backyard of Egypt, it was not allocated an independent budget. Therefore

administrators had to depend on their ability to extract resources from the masses. In their

4 This will prove to be a especially precarious movement because that same tactic will be used against
political dissidents by the Caliphate Abdullahi. To the extent that this tactic of religious mobilization
proves successful in starting revolution, it has some deleterious effects in the building of a polity
afterwards. Surprisingly, this is the same tactic used by Islamists in eliminating their political enemies,
even in modem times. The NIF regime in the early 1990s declared opposition leaders as infidels and went
to the extent of confiscating their personal belongings. This is considered legitimate against non-Muslims
in the medieval theology, which echoes heavily in today's Muslim heritage.









collection of taxes, officers resorted to harsh and unjustifiable measures. For example,

they demanded high taxes on agricultural crops but did not provide safety measures for

peasants or delivery services. The colonial administration had to depend on local

authorities, that is, tribal chieftains/leaders and occasionally religious authorities, to

collect taxes. The latter acted strategically enough so as not to subjugate their clan

members and shrewdly diverted anger toward the invaders. The introduction of

disciplinary measurements through the adoption of Sharia Laws did not protect

authorities in face of the public anger that reached upheaval limits with prevailing

economic depravity.

Al-Mahdi traveled Sudan extensively to check its pulse and accordingly announce

his revolt. Typical of all millenarian, movements were popular in those days, particularly

in that part of the world. He justified his movement as a revolt against injustice. So it was

a religious revolt against an unfair political system. Mohamed Ahmed b. abd-Allah was

brilliant enough to have recognized the environment of depression that clouded the

feelings of the Sudanese people. Since Muslims worldwide believed in a mahdi (or

messiah) as the only (metaphysical or super) force who could relieve them of injustice, he

called himself the "mahdi." He may not have perfectly fitted the descriptions of the

Mahdi, according to the Sunni tradition (or even believed it himself),5 but this claim

helped him mobilize the spiritual and material resources needed for the revolution. It also

helped overcome the authority of the periphery that was dominated by sufi sheiks. While

mureeds in large part answered the neda (call), their sheiks justified their lackadaisical



5 Sayyid Sir Abd al-Rahman, posthumous son of the Great al-Mahdi, is quoted to have said that they are the
descendents of Jaafar b abi-Talib, who is the cousin of the Prophet, thus he secretly discredited the claim
that they are the direct descendents of the Prophet Mohamed (PBUH) (PI. AMA. Summer of 1983).









response by questioning the authenticity of mahdism. .\/imakhs such as al-Amin al-Darir,

Shakir al-Ghazzi, the mufti (supreme judge) of the Sudanese Appeals Council, Ahmed al-

Azhari, and others, resisted mahdism from a purely religious perspective (Mahmoud

1997:175). They resisted the call of millenarianism for fear of diffusing their own

authority. (What was essentially a political tactic became a religious strategy, that is,

spiritual salvation became an aim in and of itself rather than a tactic to diffusing the

authority of the center and overcoming it at the time of weakness.) Nonetheless, the quick

success of the movement --something it owes to the marvelous timing of the leader--

added to their embarrassment. After all, the new leadership promised to alleviate hardship

and injustice long endured by their own people. These ulama were easily discredited as

an ally of the "infidel" Turko-Egyptian government. Degorge remarkably notes,

The revolt that had been waged by the Mahdi was a two-fold reaction: a revolt of the
fakis who were concerned with the increased secularization and adaptability in Sufism;
and a revolt against the modernization and Westernization brought on by the Turko-
Egyptian administration. These two forces combined, although the initial fervor did not
last, proved to be quite a binding force since it took military strength to overthrow them.
(Degorge 2000:201)

The political success of the revolution overshadowed the myth of millenarianism;

nonetheless, it left the Mahdi with the burden of authenticating his rule religiously.

Although the Mahdi used mahdism or millenarianism as a political tactic, he could not

escape its religious implications.

As a shaykh, however exalted and influential he might be, he would after all be one
among many and part of a vast and intricate web of rivalries and animosities. It was the
appropriation of the position of the Mahdi (who by definition is a scholar, a sufi, and
sharif) that would at one stroke place him above the entire religious establishment and
bestow upon him the required authority to exercise his role. (Mahmoud 1997:172)6

6 Hamad al-Turabi, the great-grandfather of Dr. Hassan Turabi, is said to have announced Mahdism that did
not go beyond the realm of his disciples (Mahmoud 1997:173). By trying to consolidate power religiously,
his grandson, Hassan al-Turabi, would commit the same mistake of announcing a grand scheme at an
untimely fashion.










Along with overcoming his sufi competitors, al-Mahdi had to introduce tareeqa (spiritual

discipline) to his disciples, mainly the pastoralists of western Sudan (the part of the

country that is least dominated by Sufism). The pastoralists probably had more interest in

war than spiritual salvation. The termfaki --colloquial forfaqih, jurisconsult-- is still used

in a derogatory fashion among the Baggara (literally means people who herd cows, but

refers in large part to the Sudanese Arabs who settled in western Darfur, others who herd

camels and who settled in northern Darfur; are called Jammala or Abbala). The baggara

not because they abhor religion but because they see religiosity more the function of

urban life. On the contrary, we notice thefaki is highly revered (and plays the role that a

tribal chieftain plays in western Sudan) among settlers in the north and central part of the

country. To legitimate his rule regionally, Al-Mahdi announced himself the Muslim

reformer of the century, and accordingly wrote messages to leaders from all over the

Muslim world.7 To legitimate himself nationally al-Mahdi attempted to formulate a

tareeqa (spiritual order) large enough to encompass all other tareeqas in Sudan. This

tareeqa suited only the people of western Sudan and others who lacked sufi tradition:

Muslims from northern and eastern Sudan went back to their own religious traditions.

The keenness of sufi shaykhs to carve spiritually and physically independent domains for

the exercise of their authority resembles one of the major plights of governance in

Muslim countries. The attempt, as we shall see in subsequent chapters, to overcome this

tendency theocratically by superimposing a grand scheme, as in the case of Mahdism or

neo-Mahdism (that is, Turabism), leads only to further alienation. Political

7 According to the Sunni tradition, there is a reformer, whether a scholar or politician or both, who
rejuvenates the teachings of Islam at the beginning of every century. Mohamed ibni abdel-wahab, the
founder of the Wahabi movement, is considered by his followers in Saudi Arabia as a reformer.









accommodation is possible through the proper institutional arrangement, both material

and immaterial.

Al-Mahdi did not live long enough to see his vision of a religiously and politically

united Sudan occur. He died only six months after the liberation of Khartoum, and was

succeeded by Caliphate Abd al-Allah b. Muhammad. Al-Mahdi's successor, Caliphate

Abd al-Allah b. Muhammad, was no less charismatic than his predecessor. As a matter of

fact, he is believed to have provided the military tactic (by virtue of being a Baggari, of

the nomadic/Arab tribes of western Sudan, he was by nature a fighter) that humiliated the

British army and granted the Mahdi swift victory with very limited resources. He was

also a prudent administrator who managed to rule Sudan in spite of internal turbulence

and external threats for almost 13 years (1885-1899). Nevertheless, the Caliphate lacked

all three criteria that constitute the triangle of power in an Islamic context: scholarship,

sufi background, and sharifi heritage (lineage to the Prophet). The Caliphate depended on

a tribal logic which weakened him further as it opened the door for fierce opposition from

leaders from western Sudan -his own constituency to use today's terminology. These

leaders by virtue of being sultans, saw themselves as better representatives of the nobility

class, such as Ali Dinar (Sultan of Darfur), Musa Madibbo (leader of the Reizighat tribe,

the most influential among the Baggara of western Sudan), Seneen al-Radi (leader of the

Taaysha tribe),8 and others. In short, the Caliphate lacked the "religious" credentials that

only with time and proper political tactic could have united major sufi movements.

Regardless of what could be said about the Caliphate's period, he remained faithful to the



8 Although some scholars argue the term "tribe" promotes a myth of primitive African timelessness,
obscuring history and change, I adopt this term to mean the outer boundaries of an extended kin-group with
the aim of preserving socio-economic and political dynamics.









program outlaid by the Mahdi: using a religious strategy in overcoming opposition. The

Caliphate inherited the burden ofAnsaria as the "big tareeqa" that he had to enforce as

his only means of consolidating political power. He had to overcome an ethnic divide

between al-Graba (derogatry termjalaba auladal-Bahr use in reference to people of

western Sudan) and auladal-bahr (people of northern Sudan, which includes east and

north) that he had to suppress militarily to ensure continuity of his regime.

For instance, Amir Yunis wad adikaim --a cousin of the Caliphate, did not hesitate

to whip anybody who passed by his left side, asserting it is the path of Satan that is

preserved only for "infidels." He is the commander who directed the forces ofjihadia or

battalion of the state against the Jaa'lyeen, a northern tribe that preferred to face death

than allow their children and families to be humiliated or relocated for "strategic military

reasons." To justify such a cruel act, the Caliphate cabinet accused Abdallah wad saad,

the leader of the Jaa'lyeen and one of the early supporters of Al-Mahdi, of collaboration

with the enemy. This was the beginning of zealousness in the history of Sudan (Slati,

Carl, Freihervon 1969). In their attempt to build a "Turabist space" that delegitimized

what existed outside it, Islamists will come the closest to resembling the Mahdist

theocratic heritage.

The Caliphate army, which was predominately occupied by forces from western

Sudan, spared no effort in eliminating a northern tribe in the 19th century. But we notice

the current regime directed by northern officers had no reservations in carpet bombing

villages in Darfur/western Sudan. Though unjustifiable, one can understand the

Manichean logic the religious gurus used in declaring jihad against the pagans and

Christians of southern Sudan. The attempt to forcefully build a community of believers









had grievous results in the past and present of Sudan. It allowed only political cleavages

to be resolved militarily, thus jeopardizing the unity of the nation by accentuating further

ethnic/religious divides. It was this sectarian dictatorial logic that old and modem

theocrats used that mostly made Sudan vulnerable to invasions from outside.

The failures of the Mahdist regime and its eventual removal at the hands of the
Anglo-Egyptian Condominium forces in 1899 did not, however, put an end to the
aura and influence of Muhammad Ahmad's Mahdism. The legacy of that
revolution still remains and plays an active role in present-day Sudan in the form of
the Ansar, a religio-political organization of significant presence and weight.
(Mahmoud 1997:178)


Al-Mahdi justified his choice of his successor religiously; sometimes testifying that

Caliphate Abd al-Allah was the one who came most frequently to the prayer or calling

him the one most devoted to the message of the leader. But it was basically a tactical

move to secure the support of the group with the major political and military weight, that

of western Sudan.9 Not surprisingly this choice exploited the orthodox/sufi divide

between the state administrators who favored a unitarian approach to the interpretation of

the text and sufis who adopted a more syncretic approach. It deepened the ethno-religious

divide between the west and the north (effects of that struggle are evident in today's

Darfur conflict), thus making the political situation more polemic. Unlike the sufi leaders

of northern Sudan who resisted the Mahdi to maintain their own influence, chieftains

from the western part saw it as an opportunity to overcome their own tribal differences.



9 Mahmoud asserts, "Abd Allah B. Mumammad belonged to the Taaysha branch of the Baqqara of western
Sudan. According to al-Zubayr Rahama (d. 1913), Abd Allah's great-grandfather came as a pilgrim from
West Africa and then settled among the Taaysha and married into them. Having been spared by al-Zubayr
after falling captive in his hands, Abd Allah wrote to him telling him about a vision in which he had seen
that al-Zubayr was al-Mahdi al-muntazar (the Expected Mahdi). Al-Zubayr rebuffed Abd Allah's
suggestion but this did not apparently drive the latter into despair. When Abd Allah later met Muhammad
Ahmad, he immediately declared at their first meeting that he had seen in him the signs of the Expected
Mahdi" (Mahmoud 1997:173).









In their effort to square against one another, they identified opposition to the Mahdi

meant as direct opposition to Islam, which justified persecution. The choice of the

Caliphate subverted social aristocracy as the very logic that sustained these chieftains. It

was less the fault of the Caliphate than it was the tribal logic, and "obedience" could only

be given to either sharifs, sufis, and/or scholars. Apparently, the Caliphate did not have

any of these credentials. Other leaders from the northern part of the country, such as the

Great Abu-Sin (the chieftain of the Shukreya tribe), also refused to submit to the central

government and consequently faced torture and humiliation.

These grievances were compounded to such a high level to justify the cooperation

among religious --and tribal-- leaders with the British forces that invaded Sudan in 1916.

Ali Al-Mirghani, who is the leader of the Khatmeyya sufi sect (that will later form the

basis for the Democratic Union Party, DUP) served as an officer in the army of

Kitchener. That army literally annihilated 70,000 Sudanese soldiers from the army of the

Caliphate in less than an hour. Although many Sudanese perceived it as an act of treason,

to a great extent, Sayyid Ali symbolized the animosity that the majority of the Sudanese,

especially those of northern Sudan, had against the Taaysha tribe. This animosity was

wrongfully translated to hatred against the people of western Sudan. But more

importantly, Sayyid Ali represented the grievances that sufis had against the "central

authority." The Caliphate's attempt was the first in the history of Sudan to centralize or at

least attempt to overcome sufism as the centrifugal force of Islam. To the extent that

dealing with the "infidel" or foreign invaders may have been considered a violation of the

creed of Islam --wala and bra, it established a historical precedence that allows DUP to

deal secularly or rationally with southerners. They are definitely more secular/rational









than the heirs of the Mahdi or "Islamists," who are rightfully the heirs of Caliphate

Abdullahi in as far as dogma is concerned. Degorge contends,

Al-Mirghani's son, Hasan (1819-1869), continued the work his father started. He
instituted close ties with Turko-Egyptian rule (1821-1885). This marked a move
into the political arena of a major Sufi order. The tariqa (sufi order) acted as a
mediator between its followers and the governmental structures in place. It
collected taxes, announced decrees, and many of the followers served in the armed
forces. When Egypt invaded Sudan, the Khatmeyya cemented ties with the
Egyptian administration, which additionally marked the path that they would
follow in the political arena: one of adaptability and reconciliation. To exercise its
political influence, the Khatmeyya did not advocate revolt, but worked from within
the administration to accomplish what it desired. It was adaptionist in its political
activities, and did not depart from the intellectual foundations of its founder.
(Degorge 2000:200)


The petal/fugal tendency materialized in the case of Sudan to some sort of

sensitivity in the relationship between the Khatmeyya and the Ansar. It is worth noting

that both have their basis in the periphery. However, the Ansar favors a spiritually

centralized/ideologically distinctive approach to governance rather than a spiritually

decentralized/ideologically diffusive one. Compared to the Khatmeyya whom Warberg

describe as a more docile sufi order, the Ansar is an Islamic revivalist movement seeking

to convert Muslims through the adoption of an Islamic state (Warburg 1995: 221). "They

both remained extremely powerful in the years during the Condominium administration

(1898-1956). Each one had their moments where the administration would favor them.

The outcome of this jockeying was that the two orders were established as political forces

with opposing viewpoints" (Degorge 2000:201).

By allocating the leader of the Khatmiyya, Sayyid Ali, a huge endowment of

material and political privileges, the British thought of overcoming the authority of the

periphery (Mahmoud 1997). The Khatmeyya gradually became large enough to embrace

and politically (not religiously) dominate other tareeqas, such as Qaderya and









Sammaniyya (Degorge 2000), thus avoiding the mistake the Mahdia made of attempting

to dilute the influence of religious leaders. Whenever they felt their religious authority

threatened, charismatic leaders, such as Asshareef Al-Hindi (who is also a sharifand,

moreover, a walee), oftentimes rose to challenge the political authority of Khatmeyya

leader. Through their command of large tareeqas, for example, the Sammaniyya who

gave breed to the Mahdi, the colonial authority thought of drying up the potential of

zealous (which would translate to "terrorism" in today's terms). Due to their highly

organized and centralized makeup, the Sudanese tareeqs were the structures that enabled

the Sudanese to articulate and aggregate their interest. The imperial experience, Degorge

asserts, "Gave way to a duality or competition between both tareeqs --Khatmiyya and

Ansar-- that furnished the setting for the loyalties of Sudanese Muslims" (Degorge

2000:204). Nonetheless, they balanced the power of their loyal ally, Sayyid Ali, by

empowering Sayyid Abd al-Rahman (the only remaining son the Mahdi). The latter

consumed the energy of his "zealous" followers cultivating huge amounts of land that he

was allocated on the island of Aba. The British gave him interest loans to build the

"masjid" of wad-Noubawee, in the city of Omdurman, that would later serve the purpose

of collecting scattered Mahdia forces. Sayyid Abd al-Rahman was grateful for the

bounties that the British bestowed upon him, and accordingly adopted a principle of

passive resistance. Sayyid Abd al-Rahman indulged in worldly pleasures, such as

wearing fancy clothes, building palaces, and importing thoroughbred horses from Britain,

so much so that the British thought he departed the ascetic ideal of his father, the Great

Al-Mahdi (SBN. Personal Interview. Summer 2002). Eventually, they entrusted him with

building the Umma Party of Sudan (SUP) that would become a traditional front in the









face of a growing protest that emerged from Nady al-Khiregeen (Gordon College Old

Boys Club).

Sayyid Abd al-Rahman tried to attract or even co-opt some elites who could give

his message a modern appeal. But he nevertheless could not gather enough numbers to

match those of the DUP. He had a limited pool to recruit from, because education was a

privilege that the colonials extended to northern settlers. Most of early elites were by

default Khatmeyya who belonged to the sect by virtue of their socio-cultural background.

People who joined Umma Party, such Al-Mahjoub, Prime Minister of Sudan (1956-

1958), felt their weight due to the scarcity of elites in the Umma Party. Others in the DUP

were strong enough to manipulate politics, sometimes threatening to divide the party.

They almost did in the case of President Ishmael al-Azhari (President of Sudan 1956-

1958). Toward independence time (1956), the spectrum of Sudanese politics could

resemble a two-hump

with Ali al-Mirghani patronizing the national unionist parties and Abd al-Rahman
patronizing the Umma (Nation) Party. By contrast, the other Sufi orders withdrew
on the whole to the background and confined themselves to their religious role.
What may, however, be noted about this period is that though the two religious
leaders were prime players on the political scene, the dominant political discourse
was essentially secular. (Mahmoud 1997:179)

Political pragmatism has influenced Abd al-Rahman's decision to at least

temporarily give up some of his father's theocratic claims that were strongly accented by

the Caliphate. Abd al-Rahman was prudent enough to have understood the impossibility

of molding a society religiously, but he worked dedicatedly toward infusing Islamic

ethics. While his progeny denied the Caliphate political credit he deserved, they inherited

his theocratic ambitions (Slati, Carl, Freihervon 1969). It was during the heat of the Cold

War that Imam al-Hadi al-Mahdi found himself sabotaged by the Muslim Brother's









demand for an "Islamic Constitution." In the rise of Islamism, al-Sadig al-Mahdi found

no alternative to competing with the National Islamic Front, NIF, in its pursuit of an

Islamic state. It was not until he was personally insulted and his political constituency at

the expense of eliminating the Umma presence in Sudan. Islamists specifically targeted

areas of heavy Umma presence because they felt they capitalized on a shared millenarian

heritage. As we shall see in subsequent chapters, anytime a modernist/statist group --be it

leftist or Islamists- -tries to dissolve the influence of traditional conservative parties in the

army or civil service, it risks causing an ethic/religious rupture and/or rural/urban divide.

In spite of weak political (and economic) links with the periphery, the two

traditional parties, the DUP and SUP, have in the past successfully mediated ethnic

differences between the Arabs (Buggara) and Blacks (Zurga) of Darfur/western Sudan.

The Fuor and Masaleet, now under fierce attack from the Janjaweed (Arabs who were

traditionally and historically affiliated with the Mahdi movement), do not have spiritual

ties with the Khatmeyya, only political links with the DUP that has a secular appeal and

does not resist spiritual independence from the center. These indigenous African tribes of

Darfur did not participate in the Mahdi movement, and they did not have strong

affiliation with sufi tareeqs, except maybe with the Tejhaneyya which was political

dormant, at least in western Sudan. Nonetheless, during democracy periods, they

gravitated politically toward the center. It has been observed that during coalition periods

between the DUP and Umma, the central government tends to peacefully mitigate --

though not at all times-- the problems between pastoralists Arabs and peasant Africans of

Darfur. It is not clear whether the two major parties, DUP and SUP, at the time of

independence, realized that they represent a minority of the periphery, and that it was









only a historical coincidence that gave them leadership of the political platform.

However, they used political mobilization at the national level and spared religious

mobilization within the domain of their sects (PI, AZA, Spring of 2003). Unless

compelled, they refrained from an ideological use of Islam for the aforementioned reason

and for fear of alienating the non-Muslim minority. This creates a need to push for a

revitalization of a liberal Muslim heritage that respects human dignity and gives all

groups their God-deserved rights. Depending on the circumstances, the petal/fugal

tendency --discussed extensively in this chapter-- can cause an ideological tension (see

Chapter 4). That is to say, rather than a continuum of thoughts, a country can experience

a rigidity/flexibility duality in the interpretation of the text (see Chapter 5). Without

careful management, this can cause stagnation, as in the case of Morocco, or agitation, as

in the case of Sudan. This gives rise to a hierarchy/rebellion proclivity (see Chapter 6),

which has become evident in the two countries' long civil wars.

In conclusion, the two colonial powers (the British and the French) appropriated the

concept of sharifism differently. While the British maintained balance by introducing

sectarianism in Sudan, the French Protectorate had no alternative to presenting the King

of Morocco as a unified central authority, thus fusing sharifism, sufism, and scholarship

in the figure of the sultan. The religious groups mainly incorporated in the Sudanese

political system, the Khatmeyya and the Ansar --which are led by Sharifs-- gave rise to

the two major political parties. The Umma Party of Sudan (SUP) consisted of pastoralists

located at the western and central part of the country who drifted toward the political

center at the time of the Mahdia (1885-1899). The DUP represented sedentary peasants

who lived at the northern and eastern parts of the country, and who escaped control in









those days by pulling their feet toward the periphery. Whereas traditional leaders resorted

to sectarian platforms in the name of democracy, modernist leaders sought refuge in the

military in the name of revolution. The discontinuity created by the move from dictatorial

regimes to democratic systems and back interrupted the ability of patrimonial leaders to

fix the social hierarchy needed to overcome the power of the periphery. By trying to

bypass traditional leaders, such as tribal chieftains/leaders, religious or sectarian leaders

eluded the very logic that sustained them. As a result, the religio-political power in Sudan

became more diffuse. Islamists tried, though unsuccessfully, to overcome this difficulty

by promising to rebuild the Sudanese social fabric using their religious appeal and an

unlimited access to monetary funds. Although they succeeded in weakening sectarian

basis materially, they could not overcome the long heritage of "obedience" that was

deeply ingrained in the Muslim psyche. Piety that manifested itself materially could not

replace "antiquity," no matter how hard it tried.

While the British used sectarianism as a strategy to rule the Sudan, the French used

sultanism to facilitate administering the Moroccan society. The latter capitalized on a 12

century heritage to create a central authority that it can manipulate from behind the

curtain. The French Protectorate helped the king get rid of three strong historical

opponents: sharifs who spiritually represented the tribal interest; Sufis, who provided the

ethics needed to establish bonds beyond one's primordial ties; and scholars (ulama), who

were their spokesmen. By crushing tribal resistance, the French emasculated the ability of

sharifs to launch a millenarianist campaign from the periphery. Also, they put under strict

surveillance sufi sheiks they could not neutralize, absorb, or completely eliminate. Once

the king's political power was completely thwarted, the French revived his spiritual









authority to maintain the internal balance of power. Although the sultan had no power

and literally served as a consultant for General Leyouti, he was portrayed to the public as

the cornerstone of Moroccan politics. National elites had to overcome sufi figures -if they

were to have access to Moroccan popular basis- that were predominantly religious and

eventually become the King's spiritual proxies as a requisite to sharing political power

with the Protectorate. They justified their sincere collaboration with the Protectorate as a

political enterprise aimed at protecting the national interest of the country and ruled the

dealing of sufi figures --one that was limited to protecting followers or securing their

needs-- with the colonial as an act of treason. By defaming sufism elites weakened their

own basis of popularity and thus set themselves for the political unseen. Surprisingly or

not, they woke up to find themselves dummies in the king "blessed hands." After

independence, Mohamed IV came out as the first Moroccan king with undisputed

temporal and spiritual authority, thus allowing for future challenges to be contained

religiously.














CHAPTER 4
SPECTRUM OF INTERPRETATIONS AND SOCIO-POLITICAL PHILOSOPHY

Because the Islamic tradition is so heavily dependent on what was being written in

the Qur'an and the Hadiths, it is no surprise that education has been a vital issue in these

societies. Those controlling the curriculum could also assure themselves of a stronger

grasp of the determinants of regime legitimacy. In modem times, such as the times since

colonialism, the educational issue has centered on how to combine the literal and the

liberal traditions. How far have Islamic leaders been willing to be pragmatic and adjust

their own thinking to suit the changing circumstances that British and French colonialism

brought to Sudan and Morocco, respectively. This chapter briefly traces the early

struggles over curriculum in the pre-colonial days before proceeding to examine the way

education and political socialization has been handled in colonial and post-colonial days.

It concludes with a discussion of what my own research suggests are the current issues of

greatest significance in these countries and how these issues compare to trends elsewhere

in the Islamic world.

The colonial experience, its benefits notwithstanding, has made Islamic theology

more dogmatic by causing a dichotomy between what is spiritual and what is temporal,

between reason and revelation, and hence between "god's city" and the imagination of

humans who are entrusted with overseeing the various processes of execution. The

outcome has been an ontological gap that caused only minor cracks --that was later

patched by post-colonial state builders-- in the city walls that for centuries fortified

religious fantasies and political fanaticism. Not surprisingly, Islamic fundamentalism









finds comfortable accommodation in regimes that are secular at heart and use religion for

legitimation purposes, what I call "quasi-secular regimes" such as Morocco and Saudi

Arabia, or "quasi-theocratic regimes" that are theocratic at heart and only use pluralism

for legitimation purpose such as Sudan and Iran. The complete lack of effort to do away

with religious dogma --on the contrary infusing it-- or depart the route of theology (with

all its deadlocks) has become evident in the psychological rift between the individual and

his innerself,' and between the society's aspiration and state's directions --understandably

the low esteemness of the society denies the state leverage in bargaining with the

international community.

This chapter addresses the structural (economic/cultural)2 factors that influenced

the development of Islamic orthodoxy in the 11th century and helped with its promotion

until the advent of colonialism in the 19th century. At that time, it was given the status of

law codified by the state for the purpose of inducing political stability. What appeared for

centuries as the cultural preference of the Caliphate was now given the authority of an

"authentic" Islam, which was exploited politically by Islamists, which invited a reaction

from seculars. The political polarization --between the left and the right, between the

seculars and the theocrats, between the liberalist and the literalist-- is only ideological. It

is a dispute about shared characteristics and not different characteristics. Also,

considering themselves "advanced" and dismissing Sufis as "sectarian" and "back-

warded" is more a propaganda ploy that served no purpose other than superficially

assisting elites to elevate themselves above social reality.



1 This is a result of the society's pressure for conformity and the individual longing for abstractness.
2 The political factors are addressed extensively in Chapter Three.









The cultural and sociological factors that influenced the practice of politics in the

Moroccan (and Sudanese) society were woven into a collective memory that did not

recognize a separation between religion and politics. In the midst of this ideological

quarrel, modernists --elites from the left or right side of the ideological spectrum-- failed

to engage the local heritage by way of educating it. They were more interested in

expressing their views than harkening to the wisdom of the masses. This attitude thwarted

their ability to communicate effectively with the masses. Under the pressure to influence

change, elites embraced techniques that were correctly perceived by the masses as an

attempt to unseat their traditional leaders. Such opportunism made the society resilient

and its culture more stagnant. (Elites in the African/Muslim world, as we shall see in

subsequent sections, were more a liability than an asset.)

Elite preferences were reflected in their choice of educational policies that confused

education with indoctrination. While occasionally introducing some adjustments, they

made no effort to do away with dogma. As it stands today, religion and secular sciences

stand side by side with no correspondence that can help the elites or the masses perceive

as beneficial a mutual relationship between the two. The first part of this chapter traces

the development of a religious tradition that until today has a strong hold on Muslim

minds. The second part explains how modernity has challenged the grip of such tradition

but has not provided Muslims with conceptual tools that can help them adjust to such

huge transition --one that requires that one creates the world in one's own image and not

just accept it as is. Thus modernization has denied Muslims the liberties it delivered to

European populations.3 The third part reveals the tendencies that developed among


3 Modernization in the 19th century, and still more in the 20th century, far from reducing autocracy,
substantially increased it. Lewis asserts, "On the one hand, modem technology, communications, and









contemporary Muslim thinkers, as a result of historical and political tensions that for the

first time signal an indigenous attempt to reconcile modernr epistemological views with a

classical cultural religious tradition" (Filali-Ansary 2003:6).



In Chapter 2, I alluded to the political circumstances that made favorable the choice

of the traditionalist school over the rationalist school in the 11th century. The former

innovated a dichotomy between Sharia knowledge, which it strategically called

"beneficial knowledge" (alm nafah), and sciences, which it referred to as "worldly

knowledge" (alm dunyawi). Embedded in this distinction was an attempt to

psychologically rebuff external influence and politically suppress internal dissent.

Understandably, the more Muslims got exposed, the more empowered they became in

challenging the "truth," as was propagated by the political authority. The meager the

realm of irony/imagination, the easier it was for one group to promote its understanding

of religion as religion. The reader may find it difficult to understand how one approach to

knowledge would prevail uninterrupted through almost 10 centuries, in spite of political,

economic, and social turbulences, but not if we understand the pedagogical approach that

got introduced at this turn in history. This approach emphasized obedience of the pupil to

the master and gave pride in memorization of knowledge as was passed by one's

"honorable" masters.4 The master of your master becomes your grandfather in



weaponry greatly reinforced the rulers' powers of surveillance, indoctrination, and repression. On the other
hand, social and economic modernization enfeebled or abrogated the religious constraints and intermediate
powers that had in various ways limited earlier autocracies. No Arab Caliph or Turkish Sultan of the past
could ever have achieved the arbitrary and pervasive power wielded by even the pettiest of present-day
dictators" (Lewis 1993:96).

4 Huff contends, "It should be noted that instruction in the madrasas was a totally personalistic experience.
The student came to the master and learned what he taught. The master in turn certified the student by









knowledge, something that is considered more valuable than blood kinship. To the extent

that this pedagogical approach --individual exchange between master and student-- has

preserved the authenticity of the text, some scholars like Nursi Said of Turkey, think it

has inhibited the permutation of Islamic knowledge as the only means through which

ideas can transcend their historic context (Eickleman 1999: 2).

The authority of the master and the tradition was affirmed through the

establishment of Islamic colleges -madrasas-- in the 11 th century. These institutions were

religious trusts that strictly taught Qur'an, the traditions of the Prophet, Arabic grammar,

Arab genealogy, poetry, and some arithmetic for the purpose of dividing inheritances.

Although they were protected from political intrusions, the madrasas were not legally

autonomous entities. "Rather, as strictly religious charities, they were perpetually bound

to the strictures and limitations specified in the founding document creating the

educational trust (waqf). No alterations in the purpose of the trust, or the subjects of study

was permissible. In a legal sense, they created a true 'dead hand'" (Huff 1997: 31).

There was no faculty to assess the curriculum and make adjustments according to the

need of the time, only a group of individuals, each entrusted with issuing an ijaza

(permission to transmit) in his own field. This is not to question the credentials of the

masters who in most cases were renowned scholars, or the pupils who tolerated a strict

training method --almost to the point of being authoritarian. It was emphasize the Muslim

educational system as the master institution in the perpetuation of Islamic tradition and

the creation of Islamic society as we know it today (Geertz 1965: 95).



giving him an ijaza, a 'permission to transmit' the texts and materials that the student had committed to
memory" (Huff 1997: 31).









For as long as the Silk Road existed, which to a great extended manipulated world

trade for centuries (Ferguson 2000), Muslims paid their pious endowments in the form of

educational trust (madrasas), which "could not encompass the teaching of anything

inimical to the spirit of Islam" (Huff 1997: 31). This proved the most difficult hurdle, as

the world was about to witness one of the greatest intellectual revolutions ever made. It is

at the 15th century that Europeans found the transatlantic as an alternative trade route

with which they could access the Americas. They increased their gold endowment by 800

hundred percent in less than a century, which propelled the industrial revolution,

endowed the Europeans with weaponry and enticed their appetite for wealth (Ferguson

2000). Hence, the rise of capitalism/imperialism that necessitated functional

differentiation as a way to establishing an efficiently managed operation guarded by a

legal rational system (Weber 1983). "For it was those legal developments that created the

possibility of a public sphere and paved the way for the institutional breakthrough to

early modern science." Although religious authorities of the medieval Church could have

contributed to the emergence of an "institutionally autonomous domain of discourse"

(Huff 1997: 32), it is inconceivable that "legal autonomy embedded in the law of

corporations" could have been possible prior to the rise of capitalism. Huff nevertheless

explains the failure of Muslims to benefit from their intellectual rich endowment by their

inability to curb an educational institution as a "legally autonomous entity." 5 Huff

asserts, "The success of scientific development leading to what we call 'modern science'

occurred uniquely in the West despite the fact that Arabic science was the most advanced


5 Unlike the Islamic madrasas that kept the natural sciences out, and the Chinese bureaucracy that rejected
the study of anything that could be called scientific, Huff contends, "The European universities put the
study of nature first in an institutional structure that was in effect legally autonomous" (Huff 1997: 33).









science in the world from roughly the 8th to the 13th century, while China's technological

base was superior to that of the West up until the 15th or 16th century, and its science was

second to that of the Arabs" (Huff 1997: 26). As distinguished a historian as he is, Huff

overlooks the chronology of events. He also pursues a cultural argument while ignoring

economic, political, and administrative developments that led to the rise of Western

civilization. No one disputes that individuality --a quality celebrated in the Greek heritage

and one that later resembled the founding pillar in western democracy-- which was as

cherished in any place in the world as in the West. Nonetheless, scholars entertain

multiple perspectives in the understanding of this de facto reality. For instance, why is it

that Muslims who translated the Greek heritage failed to benefit from it? Why did they

instead embrace the Persian heritage that stabilized the political system at the cost of

aborting individuality, the very quality that for centuries rested dear to the hearts of the

community members (Al-jabri 2001)?

In case of Islam, it was less a problem of one authority imposing itself over others

than the existence of the scientific, moral/religious, and political domains independent of

one another (see Chapter 2) that denied Muslims the transition "from the closed world to

the infinite universe," to borrow Koyre's phrase (Huff 1997). Rather than adjust their

strategy to meet the demands of an ever-changing reality, jurists adopted a

jurisprudentiall definition of religion" that shunned sharia from the developments in

other fields. They have wasted an opportunity to coordinate --that is, if they ever had an

option6-- the relationship between the aforementioned authorities (who will become

historical rivals). They have also failed to allow for the discoveries in one field to


6 The agency, in this case the jurists, were bound by huge structural factors that I allude to in chapter 2.









enhance the understanding in the other, thereby thwarting the ability of the Muslim

community to evolve beyond the confinement of religiosity and hover into the realm of

spirituality. Sharia eventually recessed into being God's law, instead of a legal

mechanism. With such essentialism in mind, Muslims felt compelled to define

themselves in opposition to "the other" rather than mobilize the constituents of their own

heritage to venture into wider realms. This was contrary to the ethos of the founders of

the faith who pursued a universalistic vision, nonetheless in face of prevalent injustice,

they occasionally felt compelled to bear on particularities (Filali-Ansary 2003). Hodgson,

the great British historian, asserts, "It was precisely what was universal in the vision of

Islam, its hope of equal justice and of a human responsibility under transcendent norms

that issued in the exclusivity of Islam. The very response to the vision which allowed that

vision to be embodied in a living tradition, and the responsible commitment which then

carried it forward in actual society, were what closed Islam off from rival values and rival

traditions" (Hodgson 1977: 369). This explains the obsession of some Muslims with

concepts that have almost become obsolete. Nonetheless, they may not have been

completely siphoned off the Muslim frame of reference, such as the distinction medieval

jurists make between the land of Muslims and that of "infidels" (dar-al-Harb and dar-al-

Islam), or the term dhimi (used in reference to Christians or Jews living among a

predominantly Muslim majority). Rashid Ghounishi considers this a jurist term that has

lost its political implication in associations where people no longer live as a "community

of believers" but "citizens of a nation state" (Ghounishi 1981). It is difficult but not

impossible to overcome these concepts, especially in a society that voluntarily chooses to

abide by the Sharia. Because, as Hodgson correctly asserts, "The exclusivity latent in the









Qur'an was early complemented by an exclusivity grounded in the historical Muslim

community. In the reaction that followed the thirdfitnah and the "Abbasi triumph, this

communal orientation of this Shari spirit was explicitly emphasized: that is loyalty to the

community of Muslim allegiance, even at the expense of any other value" (Hodgson

1977: 370).7 It is pointless to speak about Human Rights without paying attention to these

issues that are deeply embedded in the Muslim heritage. For almost five decades, the

Arab world watched the slaughter of non-Muslim natives in southern Sudan without any

remorse as if it was a religious conquest. It was not until the Sunni Muslims of Darfur got

attacked by the autocratic regime in Khartoum in 2001 that they started perceiving as

legitimate the grievances of the rural populations that were manipulated by the center in

Khartoum.

In spite of the firm teleological grip, Muslims continued to perch on the forward

edge of one of the highest intellectual endeavors, only to be inherited by Europeans who

would take to it unprecedented limits that changed for good and forever the conditions of

human correspondence, at the economic, political, and social levels. Most significant was

the opening up of the public sphere whose activities were for a long time enjoyed by the

privileged. "Jurgen Habermas defined the public sphere as a social space in which so-

called 'private' individuals come together for the purpose of using their critical faculties



7 Hodgson asserts, "Among Christian or Buddhist peoples, religion has indeed been very central also. But it
has informed the culture of Christian Occidentals and of Christian Abyssinians, for instance, almost
entirely in isolation from each other, so that there is no single civilization associated with Buddhism. But -
despite the vaster areas covered development any culture of their own at all, never lost contact with each
other: their cultural dialogues were always intermeshed. The bonds of Islamic faith, indeed especially the
irrepressible transcendent ideals implied in the root meaning of Islam, with their insistent demand for a
godly transformation of all life, have been so telling in certain crucial aspects of the high culture of almost
all Muslim peoples that we find ourselves grouping these peoples together across all their different regions,
even apart from considering other facets of high culture. Islam offered creative impulses that ramified
widely throughout the culture as a whole, even where it was least regions" (Hodgson 1977: 94).









in the service of so-called 'public' interests" (Huff 1997: 27). Does Habermas condition

the engagement in the public sphere on individualism and secularism? Should he treat

individualism and secularism as "epiphenomal products of bourgeois self-interest"? Does

Habermas ignore the role religion plays in the emergence of a public sphere in a different

cultural context? Since both are important criteria for our evaluation of institutional

design and educational policies in the Muslim world, I will first discuss the issue of

individualism as a direct breed of capitalism. I will later address concerns about

secularism.

Capitalism could have only been possible due to the bifurcation of scripturalism

and materialism in the late 15th century. The unlimited accumulation of wealth in Europe

could not have been perceived with guilt without departing the ascetic ideals of the

Protestant Ethic, as explained by Weber (1983). That, coupled with scientific rationality

defined in opposition to the doctrinal understanding of society, paved the way for the

philosophical rooting of secularism and liberalism in the late 16th century. After the

French Revolution in 1789, the bourgeoisie undermined the political and social

institutions on which feudalism was based. Since the Church allied with the losing

partner, the feudal lords, it inevitably lost any role it could have played to influence the

course of public life. Thus, the separation of religion and politics was circumstantial,

albeit acute in the case of France. The British had a different experience with religion.

The separation between religion and politics was consonant with Christian theology,

which philosophized that while Crown and Church are distinct in function, they are

inseparable in substance (Badie and Binbaum 1983). The cultural influence of

Protestantism helped build a political system that was organically linked to religion with









the monarch being the most senior authority in the British political system, at least

figuratively, as well as the head of the Evangelical Church.

Among the more prominent causes of this historical trend is the interference of

various European powers, of which France and Great Britain are good examples, in the

Islamic cultural spheres, by way of colonialism, in the New Imperialist era of the late 19th

Century. There were philosophical as well as practical reasons that influenced the distinct

ways by which both the French and the British administered their colonies. Given the

relatively limited size of its empire the French afforded conversion as an efficient mean

of exploitation; the British depended on domination, which was facilitated through the

loyalty of indigenous leaders. Since the French were naturally distrustful of Islamic piety

in the public sphere, they allocated religion no space --needless to say authority-- in their

design of public education. For example, the French Protectorate shut down any

suggestion by national cooperatives to include the teachings of Arabic or the Qur'an in

the educational curriculum in Morocco (Personal Interview. OJ. Fall of 2003). In addition

to the philosophical position that was antithetical to religion, the French had a political

objective. By denying theists/theologians access to power, wealth, and secular education,

the colonial administration hoped to diffuse the authority of the periphery that

traditionally and historically fueled resistance to the intrusive authority of the invaders

(Kedourie 1966: 38). This contradicts the conventional wisdom of modernist forces --

either Islamists or seculars-- who for instrumental reasons accused Sufi sheiks of being

collaborators with the colonials. Aside from a minority that was co-opted, Sufis

represented a bulwark in the face of colonialism until they were gradually and completely

disenfranchised. As theistic scholars became less equipped to deal with the perplexity of









modernity, they were replaced by a new breed of elites who in their own right wanted to

impose the views they inherited from Europe (France or Britain).8

In the wake of independence, most conservative forces sided with the King of

Morocco in the face of totalitarian and fanatic secularism that was coming from the Left.

For instrumental logic that we shall see in subsequent sections, modernist groups of the

center right particularly avoided salafism of the Maghreb, and they instead adopted the

values of the Mashreg (Egypt, Iraq, or Saudi Arabi). The salafi movement in the

Maghreb capitalized on an amalgamation of variegate Sufi orders which were themselves

an adaptation of local cultural heritage. In that sense, it was different from the salafi

doctrine in the Mashreq, which claims to have maintained Islam pure of cultural

infiltration or innovation. Even when some scholars found the will to include Sufism as

an important cultural constituent from a purely academic position, they could not find the

way. A renowned Moroccan scholar and an Islamic activist admits he could not

incorporate any Sufi teachings not even from a critical standpoint in the curriculum

that he helped design for the first Islamic department at the University of Mohamed IV at

Rabat. He says the establishment of the department was so much resisted by the

administrators --who were mostly leftist-- that he sought finance from the Saudi

government, which stipulated the exclusion of any Sufi teachings (Personal Interview.

MB. Summer 2003). Therefore, we notice the educational policy advocated by the

modernists were not less alienating for the Moroccan (or the Sudanese) than the colonial

policies.


8 Hourani asserts, "The development of Arabic social and political thought in modem times offered a
special interest but presented special difficulties. It involved tracing two lines of influence: one which ran
from medieval Islamic thought to the modem age, and the other which came from outside the Arab and
Muslim world, from western Europe and in particular from England and France" (Hourani 1981: xiv).









Rather than aim at completely thwarting the authority of the periphery, the British

created a hierarchy that facilitated the flow of administrative directives, as well as giving

them enough discretion to manipulate the political platform (see Chapter 3). In Sudan, the

British also felt threatened by Sufi Islam, which provided the yeast to most of the

millenarian movements, such as Sudan, Egypt, and India. They nonetheless felt

compelled to include just enough Islam to link the public to the indigenous leaders and

link the latter to state authority. Accordingly, students were allowed to spend the first

three years of their primary education in Qur'anic schools (katateeb), which provided

them with solid education in Qur'an and Hadith. These schools gave them moral

upbringing through their one-on-one interaction with the sheik, who in most cases

belonged to one of the Sufi tareegs (Personal Interview. DH. Spring of 2004). Therefore,

an important merit of the British system is that it provided a link between the student's

traditional habitat and his soon-to-be modem environment, between Sufi Islam of the

periphery and orthodox Islam of the city. This link was lost with the standardization of

formal education that required the enrollment of students to the school from grade one, as

happened after independence.

The decision by Sudanese national leaders (Arab nationalists in the late 1960s, and

socialists/communists in the 1970s) to eliminate Qur'anic schools --from being an

integral part of the educational system-- marks a significant disjuncture between popular

and high cultures. A prominent educator, who was once a Minister of Education and at

one time belonged to Islamists groups, asserts that the education at the time of the British

was generally better because it produced highly cultured and well-rounded individuals

(Personal Interview. DH. Spring of 2003). Furthermore, from an Islamic perspective, it









was more profound than the scholastic Islam introduced by the current regime (1989-

2005) because the former taught general Islamic principles rather than impose one

particular ideological orientation (Personal Interview. DH. Spring of 2003).

Most of the early national leaders of Sudan, regardless of their secular approach to

governance, were literate in Islamic studies, mainly the Qur'an and Arabic language.

More importantly, they had a sensitive look to the Sudanese culture, at least as it pertains

to northern Sudan. This may explain their conservative approach to governance. For

instance, President Mohamed A. Mahjoub, who led a coalition of traditional parties (of

mainly Sufi background) in the 1960s, established Omdurman Islamic University. He

made no attempt to influence the curriculum, recruiting criteria, or even claim it as a

political achievement. Ironically, it eventually developed into one of the breeding

grounds of Islamists who adamantly resist the inclusion of local heritage regardless of

how profound that may be. A renowned Sufi sheik and a distinguished Sudanese

professor, who was once the President of Omdurman Islamic University, contends that

staff members do not tolerate even the mention of Sufism --"they would rather listen to

the barking of a dog than to the praise (madh) of the Prophet" (Personal Interview. AG.

Summer 2003).

Typically Islamists blamed Sufism for the intellectual and political decadence that

Muslims reached at the time of colonialism, and accused Sufis sheiks as being

collaborators with the invaders and dictators. It is important to understand the

circumstances which led to such accusations. In most cases, they found collaboration

with the authorities as the only available tool to deflect harm from reaching their

followers. Sufism was not a bulwark in the face of development as it was one among









many organs in a body inflicted with despotism. But it was definitely a strong fortress

against the hegemonic forces of colonialism. Azzahi asserts that a Salafifagih (scholar)

may dismiss a Sufi dance as innovation in the deen (religion), but a sociologist cannot. It

is by listening, dancing, and, most importantly, invocating the name of Allah that sufi

sheiks unite the body and the soul and entrench its equivalence in the intellectual

unconscious (Azzahi 2003:138-139). This ritual makes a person's cultural, social, and

religious existence become real in a non-confrontational manner. It attempts to address

the zoug -taste-- as well as the mind.9

Most contemporary Islamists (scholars who study Islam, be it Muslims or non-

Muslims) contend that sufi Islam is the mode most qualified in resisting the

encroachment of imperialism --as it had done with colonialism. A renowned Moroccan

scholar and an Islamic activist found it fair to admit that he resisted Sufism for 30 years,

only to recently come to recognition of its vitality in resisting the institutional forces -

both local and international that are trying to erode the richness of the Muslim heritage.

He now recommends listening to madeeh (praise poems of the Prophet introduced with

instrumental music), and watching and participating in sufi festivals (Personal Interview.

MB. Summer 2003). Salafi groups in Sudan spent almost four decades trying to convince

the masses that instrumental music is prohibited in Islam. Sheik Abd al-Raheem Al-Burai

introduced Islamic teachings in the very symphony that Sudanese enjoyed. His madeeh --

songs including praise of the Prophet and enhancing morality-- dominated the public



9 The President of Malaysia is believed to have suggested that Muslim countries reduce their military
budget to only one percent, and instead direct it to educational services. He wants to give the world hyper
power no excuse to force. Mernissi correctly asserts, "The supremacy of the West is not so much due to its
military hardware as to the fact that its military bases are laboratories and its troops are brains, armies of
researchers and engineers .. power comes from the cultivation of the scientific spirit and participatory
democracy" (Mernissi 1992: 43, 44).










arena from the beginning of the 1980s until now. With limited resources, this genius

succeeded in what the state failed to achieve with omnipotent presence.

While ideological Islam fit the modernist ideology that attempts to increase

visibility of the society --thereby making its members more manageable-- Sufi Islam

encourages diffusiveness in thought and practice. Hence, it allows the individual room to

reshape the moral boundary without having to transgress against the community or

compromise his own individuality. By capitalizing on the good qualities that every

disciple possesses one way or the other, the Sufi sheik allows the mureed to voluntary get

rid of the negative aspects.10 A prominent sufi sheik, AG, asserts that Sufism puts the

individual through spiritual training to ultimately liberate him/her from anything but the

love of Allah (Personal Interview. AG. Fall of 2003). This concept of freedom is different

from positive freedom, as defined by Western philosophers, or, for this matter, negative

freedom as ill-conceived by Islamists. Western philosphers put emphasis on rights,

Islamists bear more attention to duties.11 The sufi regard to the moral code is a way of

fulfilling the covenant with Allah and not watching out for the morality, as defined by

society and/or enforced by the police.12 To take an example, the word ayeb (morally


10 "We have communal actions and rituals, but not communal faiths. Expressions of faith are public but the
essence of faith is mysterious and private ... True faith is contingent upon individuality and liberty. Their
decline is tantamount to the decline of faith, just as their rise amounts to the rise of faith" (Soroush 2000:
140,141).
11 The adamancy of the current Sudanese state to push morals politically has caused a moral decline
unprecedented in the history of the nation. A report of international humanitarian agency --that was not
made public-- include a 400 percent increase in the number of children born out of wedlock (Personal
Interview. SM. Spring of 2003). Outraged by this social tragedy, a businessman who I interviewed said that
"at the time of the British when Sudan had open bars and licensed prostitutes, the public had a better public
(and private) morality than today" (Personal Interview. SA. Spring of 2003).
12 A distinguished member of the Istiglal Party (mid of spectrum Moroccan politics) says unlike Islamists
(Justice and Development Party, right of spectrum) they do not judge the individual, that is, party member,
by his personal conduct, only by his creed. She thinks a person can become morally upright at anytime
provided he has the right conviction (Personal Interview. NK. Fall of 2003). She said this in reaction to an
accusation of a member in the Justice and Development Party that they do not care anymore about the









scornful in Arabic) has a deeper psychological effect than haram (prohibited) in making

the individual morally conscientious of his moral responsibility to the "other."13 It is a

divine rule interceded by the society's conception of morality that is deliberative,

adaptive, and which follows an evolutionary learning path. Such philosophy characterizes

the sufi approach to moral upbringing (tarbeya) and reveals the secret of its success.

Unlike Islamists who use (scientific) rationality to distinguish themselves and thus gain a

superior status, Sufis are more egalitarian and use communicative rationality to allow

room for cohesiveness. In their debate with the Sufis, Islamists are very "rational"; in

their contestation with the seculars (socialist/communists), they are very "moral." The

more gimmicks they attempt, the more obvious their political intricacies become.

I may not have adequately answered the questions about individualism and

secularism within the capitalist tradition, nonetheless this section is aimed at highlighting

the distinction between "structural" and "subjective" secularization. Structural

secularism, applies to the institutional arrangements of society and subjective secularism

to the subjective experience of secularizing forces by individuals (Robinson 2003).

Structural secularism, defined as the "institutional separation of church and state," may

have been the midwife who helped with the birth of subjective secularism. But it is

definitely capitalism, functional differentiation, and more recently mass communication

that helped with the conception of such child in the European continent. (Forcing the




personal conduct of their members. Most Islamists parties started with such a conviction, soon as they
reached the populist level, that is, their parties in number, they could not afford to follow with the moral
upbringing of their party membership.

13 Personal Interview with a prominent sufi sheik, who was also the President of Omdurman University for
Islamic studies (Personal Interview. AG. Spring of 2003).









birth of such child in the Muslim world has caused the death of both the mother and the

child. It is a child born out of wedlock at best and abortion at worst.)

Traditional Leaders in Modern Clothes

In spite of persistent attempts to block sufi heritage, Sufism continues to shape the

cultural, social, and intellectual unconscious of most of these Muslim societies. By

omitting Sufism from formal educational curricula in North Africa, modernist groups

have not benefited from its richness, and they are not exempt from the ills that such

resentment created. Elites were unconsciously maneuvering in a socio-cultural sphere

that treated the "leader" as a sheik whose basera (vision) provides guidance in gloomy

circumstances. His ideology is the tareega (spiritual discipline) that maintains harmony

and discipline among part members. The party is the zawya (platform) from which the

sheik dissipates his blessed teachings (Azzahi 2003:233).

In his prize-winning book, Az-zawia Wal-Hazib,14 Azzahi, a Moroccan sociologist,

asserts that A'lal Al-Fasi of Morocco (the national leader of Morocco in the 1950s) was

revered by the masses as a religious leader. His vision inspired the nation to stand by the

king thereby connecting to its history, more so its spiritual heritage (Azzahi 2003). A'lal

Al-Fasi announced from Cairo the beginning of a military revolt led by the masses as

soon as King Mohamed IV was sent into exile by the colonial authority in 1952, thereby

wasting an opportunity for the French Protectorate to drive a wedge between elites and

the Makzn. He made a political gamble by supporting the king at a time when the king

was mostly weakened, which Mohamed IV won because rather than following the wish

of the Protectorate, the king decided to stand by his people. Al-Fasi displayed a "mystical


14 Zawya is the Sufi religious center; Hazib is the party.









quality" of being able to predict political events. He thus was both a sound sheik and a

loyal disciple. Whereas he could have used his popularity to replace the king, A'lal knew

that the king capitalized on a heritage that went beyond his temporal existence, one that

extended 1, 200 years into the history of the nation (see Chapter 3 for details).

Al-Fasi used his political skills and religious credentials to establish himself as the

undisputed leader of the Istiglal Party, which monopolized Moroccan politics long before

it was challenged by the Socialist Union. He overcame the challenge Bal-Hassan Al-

wazani once presented for the chairmanship. Even though the latter was assigned the

vice-chairmanship, Al-wazani chose to leave and establish his own party. These were not

simply two-party members competing for an administrative position. They were two

religio-political figures competing for the sheikdom of a worship place (zawya) called

Istiglal Party (Hizb Al-Istiglal). They did not stand for themselves, but also represented

two renowned Fasi families, and they shined as beacons for their societal groups. Similar

to the Moroccan saying, 'Two snakes cannot reign in one den," the defeat of one meant

the departure of the other.15 It was only logical to do so because it is by a strict following

of the instructions of the leader (Aza'eim) that the party remains intact. Any dispute of his

orders violates the social logic that governs the political dynamics in the party and in the

nation as a whole.

The lively presence of the characteristics of the zawya in a national party makes it

difficult for a leader to be challenged, or be excused from his position in their lifetime.

This patrimonialism applies to religious as well as non-religious parties. Looking at the


15 Abdel-Salaam Yasin, who for a long time was a member of the botsheshya tareega, is said to have left it
when the followers refused to make him the sheik, and instead chose the sheik's son after his father's death.
He now has his own party and accepts no dispute of any of the party members.









political landscape in Sudan, you cannot point to a party that succeeded democratically in

removing its leader, not even the Communist Party. It is a problem if a leader is alive; it

is a curse if he is dead. The death of a leader resembles a tragedy for some parties. For

example, 20 years after the death of its leader, Sharief Hussein Al-Hindi, the DUP in

Sudan looks like an orphanage whose inhabitants still suffer from the death of a fatherly

figure. Al-Hindi is by far the noblest shariefwho has walked over the Sudanese

landscape. He had the political asceticism of Al-Hassan and the warrior courage of Al-

Housein --the two sons of Imam Ali. However, it is not the magnanimity of his character:

generosity, tolerance, sincerity, political strategies, intellectual shrewdness. 16 None of

those characteristics were qualities that the lineage to the Prophet (.\'/ii ifism)

immaterially manifested. But they were supernatural qualities that he genetically

inherited from his father and ancestors who supposedly kept the party united and its

manifesto appealing to the public. More than one follower, most of them educated

individuals, reiterated that Al-Housein was magically convincing and capable of

foretelling. Some say that he physically met with Great Grandfather, the Prophet

Mohamed, before his death (Personal Interview. SA. Fall of 2003). The followers insisted

ascribing these qualities to him, even though he consistently rejected some of them.

Unlike Al-Hindi, Assadig Al-Mahdi (the leader of the Umma party in Sudan) tried

to capitalize on his genealogy while failing to manifest noble qualities. He publicly said

(while being President of Sudan in 1985) that his birth date coincided with that of Jesus

(the son of Mary) and that Said Yahya, his cousin who was only four, announced many

times among family members that a muhajr (someone who travels in the path of Allah)


16 1 can finish this dissertation before I will be able to enumerate that great man's good qualities.