Islam and the State in the Postcolonial Era
In this section, I first highlight aspects of the relationship between Islam and the postcolonial territorial state in the transition to independence, and then offer some reflections on the implications of this recent history for the future development of constitutionalism in Islamic African societies.
To begin with the overview, Shahin (1997) locates the contemporary role of Islam in Tunisia, Algeria, and Morocco in terms of its historical role. Islam not only had a dynamic part in shaping the popular culture of the people and the structure of these societies up to independence, but also continued to affect political values and responses in these countries, despite the changes in conditions and circumstances after colonialism The state controls the institutional practice and formal public teaching of Islam, in order to silence religious-based opposition and draw mass cohesion to affirm the legitimacy of “a Westernized political elite with little in common with the masses” (Shahin 1997: 19). More generally, Islam has been both unifying and divisive in the African political context. On the one hand, African countries with majority or significant Muslim populations have developed ties with Islamic Arab and Asian countries, thereby generating solidarity regarding the Middle East conflict and decolonization in Africa. On the other hand, Islam has caused tensions between African and Arab states in relation to certain armed conflicts, such as those during the 1980s in Chad and Eritrea.Since identities in general are constructed within sociopolitical processes, and in response to shifting needs and concerns, Islamic identities tend also to include claims of more “authentic” representation of Islam as a means of appropriating influence among Muslims and to exclude or marginalize their “competitors.” This happened between the Qadiriyya and Tijaniyya in Mali.
Despite the fear of Islamic institutions by the government of Mali and international development agencies, the Wahabis have actually become quite adept at creating social programs to help local communities. A tension grew into the politics of Mali as Moussa Traore increasingly identified himself and the country as both Muslim and secular during his period of leadership in 1968–1991. This became institutionalized in the government sponsored national Muslim organization, the Association Malienne pour l’Unite et le Progrès de l’Islam (AMUPI) which paralleled the single political party of Mali, the Union Democratique du Peuple Malien (UDPM). Thus, constructions of Muslim identity occur within multiple “social formations” as the public expression of economic and political conflict.The use of violence as a strategy of opposition by Islamist movements in the Middle East and North Africa during the last quarter of the twentieth century can better be understood through contextual analysis instead of as a question of doctrine. Islam neither forbids violence for religious causes, nor encourages it. The doctrinal view does not tell us when or why believers actually resort to violence in some situations and not in others, or whether or why such resort to violence is understood to be Islamic. Instead, Lisa Anderson emphasizes “political circumstances or institutional environment, that breeds political radicalism, extremism, or violence independent of the content of the doctrine... there are circumstances that foster radical political strategies and, conceivably, resort to violence, independent of the content of political beliefs, just as there may be conditions that encourage political movements to work within the system, however radical their ideologies” (Anderson 1997: 17, 18).
In the debate over whether Islamic parties should be included in the political process in Algeria and Tunisia, supporters of their inclusion cited the positive example of Marxist parties in France and Italy who are legitimate participants in the electoral democratic process, despite their ideological advocacy of class revolution and moral and financial ties to foreign Marxist powers.
Opponents of the inclusion of Islamic parties, in contrast, pointed to counter European experiences, like that of the Nazi party in Germany, which came to power through the electoral process only to turn around and change the rules to maintain exclusive totalitarian power. A particularly helpful point made by Anderson is to note the relationship between opposition and what it opposes:Opposition, however, has the unusual characteristic of being defined partly by what it opposes; it develops within and in opposition to an ideological and institutional framework and, as such, reveals a great deal not only about its own adherents but also about the individuals, policies, regimes, and states in authority. This is particularly true of illegal political opposition, since the decision to prohibit the expression of dissident voices is one that can be taken only by those in a position to determine legality; the authorities themselves. Any examination of the nature of illegal political opposition also illuminates the nature of regimes in power. (Anderson 1997: 18–19)
The preceding remarks regarding North Africa can usefully be extended to a wider view of these issues in the Middle East in general, especially in view of the strong influence of that region on Islamic developments in sub-Saharan Africa. Throughout the Middle East and North Africa, with some possible partial exceptions like Lebanon before the civil war, nondemocratic rule was the order of the day till the mid-1970s. A variety of internal and external factors from the beginning of the 1980s onward compelled political authorities to reconsider their relations with the generality of their citizens. As public acquiescence declined, regimes had to find new incentives for political stability and cooperation. “Starting in the mid-1970s in Egypt and continuing in the next decade and a half in Tunisia, Algeria, Jordan, Yemen, and, to a lesser extent, Morocco and Kuwait, press censorship was lifted, political prisoners released, political parties authorized, and contested elections held” (Anderson 1997: 20).
However, the aim of these measures was to consolidate the power of the elite, rather than promoting genuine democracy and allowing legitimate political competition. This was the political context within which Islamist movements emerged as an alternate space possessing a legitimacy that the governments themselves lacked. Since nationalism as an ideology could not, in and of itself, justify the actions of regimes nor provide a participatory space of any kind, the alternate ideological vision of the umma proved more compelling.The early conception of Hasan al-Banna and the Egyptian Muslim Brotherhood of the “comprehensiveness of Islam” lent itself both to a broad social project and a challenge of the social welfare ambitions of the secular postindependence states.... In providing free medicine, distributing school equipment, organizing garbage collection, offering legal and administrative advice, organizing scouting groups, the Islamists also played roles in social life that governments had once claimed but then abdicated. (Anderson 1997: 24)
This dialectical relationship between government and opposition is clearly illustrated by the rise of the Front Islamique du Salut (FIS) out of popular opposition to the policies of the singleparty Front de Liberation Nationale (FLN). The FIS provided social services in emergency situations such as earthquakes, and ensured law and order, which the government was unwilling or unable to do. While both sides framed the debate in ideological terms, FIS not only effectively discredited the FLN regime by becoming an alternative provider of public services, it also did better than all the secular political opposition. In contrast, the secular opposition to the FLN developed little or no grassroots following because it defined its mandate in narrowly political terms, such as contesting elections or publishing newspapers, and avoided social or economic activities (Anderson 1997: 24).
However, the ambiguity in the programs and agendas of Islamist groups was apparently a cause as well as a consequence of their support across social sectors.
Their vague and often emotional appeals to popular sentiment made it difficult to ascertain their real ideological positions. At the same time, this enabled them to attract popular support for broad unspecific claims that were unverifiable for the purposes of proper political accountability. Moreover, as a general rule, Islamist movements became more pragmatic when the prospects of sharing power became stronger, although it is impossible to categorically determine whether this is tactical or genuine political compromise. It may well be true that governmental repression begets such ambivalence in the opposition, failure to recognize genuine political opposition, the tendency to treating it as disloyalty to be suppressed, leads both the regime and its opponents to resort to violence (Anderson 1997: 25–29).Recalling earlier discussion of the postcolonial state in Africa, colonialism has radically transformed African politics by imposing the European model of the nation-state, with all its normative and institutional assumptions, extensive centralized powers to regulate economic and social activities. Colonialism also transformed international relations and trade by globalizing European models of nation state as the primary focus of political and economic relations among peoples of Africa and Asia. At the same time, however, colonial administrations had very little to do with local African communities who were politically controlled by local elites on behalf of the colonial administration, the so-called “indirect rule” or “native administration,” but otherwise left entirely on their own. Other colonial administrations superimposed European “nation” state models not only in the absence or inadequacy of the presumed preconditions, but also without bothering to promote or supplement those conditions over time. Far from encouraging national unity and cohesion that might have helped adapt those models, colonial administrations vigorously pursued divide and rule strategies to keep local populations politically divided through manipulations of ethnic and religious affiliations. That is why I prefer to use the term “territorial” instead of “nation” state in relation to postcolonial African states, as explained in chapter 1 earlier.
Also recalling earlier discussions in Chapter 2, colonialism also coopted a variety of elite leaders to implement its policies, and educated some of them for middle and lower level administrative positions. By the end of colonial regimes, those who were educated in European style schools took over the state and continued its operation along colonial models that sought to perpetuate the assumptions of constitutionalism and the rule of law as they operated in European countries. With minimal preparation for the educated elites, and far less for the general local population at large, African societies were supposed to adapt and operate the complex constitutional and legal orders applied by their respective former colonial powers. Thus, most African societies were suddenly supposed to replicate British or French constitutional and legal systems, compete in global markets, and engage in international relations as sovereign states, with little preparation for these functions of sovereignty.
Moreover, those elites who came to control of the state were not in touch with the realities of their own populations, and had little understanding of how to relate constitutional principles such as protection of human rights, independence of judiciaries, and separation of powers, to the popular culture of local populations. In the case of Islamic African societies in particular, ruling elites had very little understanding of how to negotiate the relationship between Islam and the post-colonial “secular” state, with its expansive powers and ability to control the daily lives of its population. This tension was minimal in the precolonial and colonial contexts precisely because the state was a distant authority that left local Islamic communities to administer their own affairs according to their respective customary practices, including elements of Shariʿa. It is only to be expected, then, that secular nationalist project failed to deliver on their promises of political liberation, economic development and social justice, especially in North African countries like Algeria, Egypt, and Tunisia. The consequent widespread disillusionment, especially among the newly educated young generations, created a most receptive environment for Islamist groups and parties in opposition to the regimes in power (Shahin 1997).
In their desperate search for a viable alternative, postcolonial Islamic societies turned to traditional understandings of Islam, which offered archaic notions of the state, law, and society that are totally unsuited for the realities of a pluralistic territorial state in its modern global context. In particular, using readily available models based on traditional principles outlined in chapter 1, Islamists appeal to legalistic, austere, puritanical perceptions of Islam, in the Wahaby doctrine sponsored by Saudi Arabia, or the discourse of the Muslim Brothers movement spreading south from North Africa. The proponents of this view deploy the discourse of a long tradition of scholarly and theological development of a more textual and legalistic understanding of Islam, presented as the vehicle of self-determination for Islamic African societies. They tend to see this view as the only viable alternative to what they perceive to be discredited colonial Western models of constitutionalism and their underlying ideology of the state. The proponents of this re-Islamization of African societies insisted on keeping the colonial notion of the territorial state and its expansive powers, but sought to transform the orientation of its policy and legal system to fit their ideas of Islam. In fact, what the Islamists of the 1980s and 1990s sponsored was a totalitarian project that seeks to transform people’s lives, attitudes, and manners of behavior through controlling the state and transforming its institutions in the service of Middle Eastern understandings of Islam.
This postcolonial cycle of contestation of the meaning and relevance of Islam in relation to constitutionalism is different from previous episodes of Islam in Africa and African Islam, discussed earlier, because of the dynamic nature of Islamism in the age of globalization. Recent technological developments have facilitated previously unthinkable degrees of economic and political interdependence and cross-cultural influence. As a result, ideas about Islam, its relationship to the state and politics, and the impact of political and social movements can have far-reaching consequences throughout Africa and beyond, over remarkably short periods of time. But these recent features do not necessarily dictate a particular outcome of the interaction of Islam and constitutionalism. In terms of the thesis of this book, these developments emphasize not only the contingency of that relationship, but also a larger scale and faster speed of one outcome or another, than was the case in the past. In other words, the present intensity of global and regional interaction of ideas about Islam and constitutionalism can facilitate either a positive or negative relationship between the two in ways that can affect more people, throughout the world, and in less time, than ever before.
However, as I hope to demonstrate by contrasting the cases of Sudan, Nigeria, and Senegal in the next chapter, the outcome of this discourse still depends on a variety of factors. In particular, the intensified contingency of this relationship is compounded by what might be described as a double crisis. On the one hand, the colonial and postcolonial territorial state has not really managed to strike roots and become legitimate among its own African Muslim population. On the other hand, relatively more inclusive, pluralistic, and adaptive local understandings of Islam are being challenged by militant legalistic and puritan notions of Islam that seek to transform local societies. That is, the principles and institutions of constitutionalism are undermined by the inability of the postcolonial state to apply them effectively, while being challenged by a re-Islamization campaign that seeks to introduce principles and institutions that are fundamentally inconsistent with constitutional governance.
To suggest mediating this complex contingency in favor of the incremental success of constitutionalism in the Islamic context of some African countries, I would invoke what might be called “the principle of cultural transformation,” as spontaneous, gradual, incremental internal process of cultural adaptation and change (An-Naʿim 2002b). To say that it is internal is not to suggest that it is not influenced by external forces and factors, because cultures adapt in response to both internal and external stimuli. As no human society lives in isolation from other societies, interaction with other societies is an integral part of how each culture adapts to its changing context. Indeed, as just noted, the present accelerated and intensified rate and scale of globalization generate a strong dynamic interaction between internal and external factors and forces in the processes of cultural transformation more than ever before. Moreover, to emphasize the internal transformation process is not to suggest that it is totally arbitrary or unpredictable, although the underlying notion of contingency implies that outcomes can vary depending on the role of various actors, factors, and context.
Determined and well-informed actors can make a difference to the outcome of the relationship between Islam and constitutionalism by deploying deliberate strategies to promote their own vision of the social good. In relation to the thesis of this book, the question is whether African Muslim policy makers, social scientists, and lawyers can promote an Islamic rationale of the principles and institutions of constitutionalism in ways that are persuasive to their Muslim constituencies. More specifically, I am suggesting that this process of promoting constitutionalism through the current dynamics of cultural transformation of Islamic African societies should be seen as a function of competing visions of African Islam and re-Islamization according to Middle Eastern perspectives. The appeal of the latter, which has antecedents in the West African jihad movements of the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, is supported by the desire among local communities to be part of a powerful international entity, the Islamic umma at large. This desire is probably motivated by the promise of the benefits of modernity while maintaining a strong sense of Islamic identity. Sustainable mediation must therefore address this underlying psychological and sociological need, and work out its constitutional implications—to balance appropriate recognition of and respect for the former with the requirements of the latter. After all, constitutionalism is about realizing the people’s right to self-determination, not repudiating it.
In conclusion of this section, I would emphasize that the outcome of internal debates about the political and legal role of Islam is far from settled by claims of either complete fusion or total separation. This ambivalence also runs deep. The North African Islamic historian Ibn Khaldun (d. 1406/7) maintained that if worldly affairs and religion were mixed both would suffer, yet he suggested that religion can be important only as basis of a political umma rather than as personal faith based on persuasion and choice (Sanneh 1997: 199). So far in this chapter I have sought to clarify the terms and context of this internal Islamic debate, while emphasizing that outcomes are contingent on identifiable conditions rather than predetermined by some doctrinal imperative. Part of this clarification is the need to distinguish between the necessity to secure the institutional separation of Islam and the state, while recognizing and regulating the interconnectedness of Islam and politics. In the next section, I elaborate on another perspective that might facilitate the regulation of the unavoidable political role of Islam in favor of constitutionalism in Islamic African societies.