The Religion & Culture Web Forum
May 2004
Commentary Footnotes
Footnotes for
Undoing
the Mahdiyya: British Colonialism as Religious Reform in the Anglo-Egyptian
Sudan, 1898-1914"
by Noah Salomon
(University of Chicago Divinity School)
1 My sincere thanks to Prof. M.W Daly of Kettering University, Ms. Jane Hogan of the Sudan Archive Durham (UK), and the staff of the Public Records Office in London for their assistance with this project in the early stages of its formation. My gratitude also goes out to Courtney Handman and Alejandro Paz (and all of the members "The Interpretation of Boundaries: Text and the Construction of Local Religious Communities" panel at the Society for the Anthropology of Religion Conference April 2003), without whose encouragement this paper would never have been written. I would also like to thank Prof. Wendy Doniger and fellow students (particularly Scott Richard) from the "Problems in the History of Religions" seminar for their comments on an early draft of this paper. Next, I would like to thank my teacher and adviser Saba Mahmood for her careful reading of this essay and her comments which helped me to think about the material in new ways. Finally, my gratitude is extended to the members of my History of Religions Colloquium (Prof. Bruce Lincoln, and Profs. Doniger and Mahmood) for their insightful questions and comments about this essay.
2 Please note that, due to a problem with fonts, as well as a desire to render this paper more readable for non-specialists, throughout this essay Arabic terms are not correctly transliterated. Instead, I have reproduced their nearest equivalents using the basic characters of the English alphabet.
3 On the outbreak of the war, the British moved away from a direct attempt to reform Islam from above and toward the strategy of "favors-for-patronage," in which they seemed much less concerned with the religious content of the groups and leaders whom they supported, their only requirement now being loyalty to the Crown. The reasons for the shift are many, but mostly it is due to the fact that when the Ottomans joined the Central Powers in World War One, the Ottoman Sultan Mehmed V called for unity of all Muslims against the Allies. The British felt that they could not afford uprisings amongst Muslim populations in the colonies and thus made allies with anyone whom they thought might have influence or power over the general public (Holt and Daly 2000: 111).
4 On arriving in Khartoum, Kitchener raised both the British and Egyptian flags over the destroyed former palace of the Turco-Egyptian leadership. With that, he inaugurated a 58-year era of "joint rule," known as the "Condominium Period," where, at least in theory, the British and the Egyptians would share dominion over the Sudan. Yet, in practice, since the British also occupied and ruled Egypt, the British actually represented both parties in the joint leadership. As Egyptian nationalists would soon recognize, the only "privilege" that the Egyptians got out of the "Condominium Agreement" was that they had to subsidize the Sudanese economy out of their coffers. British officials made all the administrative decisions in the Sudan, and reaped all the political benefits (Daly 1986:1-39).
5 FO 633/25, “Speech Delivered at Khartoum, 28 January, 1903.”
6 Sunni eschatology states that near the end of time God will send a mahdi, or chosen one, to earth to lead the entire Muslim community in installing justice and destroying tyranny. Following this mahdi will come al-dajjal, or the anti-Christ, and then the second coming of the Muslim prophet Isa (or, Jesus). Many Sudanese saw the British as an embodiment of al-dajjal. Therefore, in the years following the occupation many Sudanese arose proclaiming to be the prophet Isa, thus fulfilling the eschatological plan. (Ibrahim 1979). Many purported mahdis have appeared throughout Islamic history, mostly in North Africa and Yemen.
7 I am certainly not the first person to recognize this phenomenon. Voll (1971) and Warburg (1971: 95-106) have also written about the British interest in encouraging the establishment of an Islamic scholarly class on an Egyptian model and the simultaneous attack on the Sufi orders which characterized the early years of the Anglo-Egyptian occupation. My paper is an attempt to return to some of the material that they discuss, while adding new data that I uncovered in my own search through the archives, in order to ask some broader questions about the implications of the British interest in religious reform on our understanding of the colonial project and its relationship to the secular principles it claims to champion.
8 See (Gleichen 1905) for a fascinating account from a member of the administration of the British program for the "modernization" of the Sudan in the fields of commerce, military, government and law.
9 See Holt's introduction to Wingate 1968 [1891] for details.
10 PRO 30/57/14. NB: I will leave letters, speeches, journals and other primary source materials in their original form, without noting or changing spelling or grammatical errors or alternate Arabic transliterations.
11 See (Lata Mani 1998: 96) where she makes a similar point about British missionaries reacting to the Hindu practice of Sati.
12 Quoted in (Steele 1998:23).
13 This becomes quite obvious when parliamentary political parties are formed in Sudan and the powerful ones that emerge are led by heads of Sufi tariqas, a state of affairs which has dominated the Sudanese political scene until the present day (Warburg 1978).
14 See below for an outline of the Turco-Egyptian reforms of Islam and the way in which the British mimicked many of them.
15 See (Warburg 1978: 22-79) for an interesting discussion about the formation of political parties and representative bodies in the Sudan.
16 (SAD 283/1/30&35). It is interesting to note that Wingate also advised that the students be trained in anthropology. This, he remarked, was important for those administrators who would be dealing with the south, which at this point was not pacified and was difficult to govern without a clear knowledge of the culture and leadership structures of the tribes. It is also interesting to note that in this same document, Wingate argues for the utility of anthropology to the colonial project. He writes of the African South of the Sudan “You see, it is all more or less unknown, and a great deal of light can be thrown on these questions by the study of anthropology, so I was very anxious to get that subject taken up [in the universities]” (283/1/34). He writes of the anthropologist of Sudan, C.G Seligman, “For the next years we have secured the services of Professor Seligman, who is a very well known anthropologist. He is coming out and means to do all he can to help us…I expect that the knowledge he obtains will all be put into syllabus form, and will form a sort of text book for the instruction of our selected young administrators at Oxford and Cambridge” (SAD 283/1/34-5). Thus the pursuit of anthropological knowledge in the Sudan had a direct administrative function.
17 It should be noted that the British notion of a split between the Sufi orders and legal and scriptural Islam was somewhat of a fiction. Though certain practices of Sufism were deemed reprehensible by Salafi reformers and traditionalists alike, most of these scholars, including the great reformer Muhammad ‘Abdu himself, were active in Sufi movements (De Jong 1999: 310). This was especially true in Sudan where, as Trimingham noted, practically all Muslims belonged to a Sufi order of some sort (Trimngham 1965: 205). Further, there is no contradiction between Sufism and a Shari’a-based Islam, as for all Sufis Shari’a is the “starting point of the Sufi path” (Trimingham 207).
As Alexander Knysh notes in his article about medieval Islam, it has always been possible for one to be very much “orthodox” in his opinions on law, but also belong to a tariqa (Knysh 1993:52-3). Knysh uses the figures of Ibn ‘Arabi and al-Shahrastani to show that when one looks at the Islamic tradition in its own terms, it is very difficult to uphold this distinction between orthodoxy and heresy. He writes, “Eurocentric interpretive categories, when uncritically superimposed on Islamic realities, may produce serious distortions. Thus such distinctly Christian concepts as ‘orthodoxy’ and ‘heresy’ foster a tendency to disregard the intrinsic pluralism and complexity characteristic of the religious life of the Muslim community, leaving aside significant and sometimes critical ‘nuances’” (Knysh 1999: 62). Yet the British found this distinction productive. The British hoped that by marginalizing Sufi Islam and establishing new religious institutions they could create a central orthodoxy in a pluralistic religious scene where there was none.
18 Despite Trimingham’s missionary bias he remains the only comprehensive source for the study of Islam under the Condominium. His book is extremely learned and reveals a deep knowledge of not only of the Islamic practices he observed, but also the Arabic contemporary literatures and historical sources concerning Islam in Sudan. While, like any text, I will subject his work to a critical reading, I join the group of scholars from John Voll to Janice Boddy who rely on his observations to paint a picture of Islam in this period.
20 It is interesting to note that the Muhammad ‘Ali tried to establish such a unified Sufi umbrella organization to regulate the practices of the orders in 1812, under a Shaykh al-Mashayikh (Grand Sheikh) (Skovgaard-Peterson: 43). De Jong notes that this office was used by the late 19th century Egyptian reformers to make great modifications in the permissibility of various Sufi practices which they saw as abhorrent (de Jong 1999: 310). On conquering Sudan Muhammad ‘Ali extended the rule of this Grand Shiekh to the Sudan, but Trimingham notes that his rule in Sudan was formal only and that in reality he had little power (Trimingham: 200-1).
21 Warburg also discusses the writings of Browne (1971: 99).
24 Warburg also discusses the writings of Butler (1971: 99).
25 Butler spent most of his time in military intelligence in Khartoum but spent part of his early years as a military officer in the Camel Corps in Kordofan (Warburg 1971: 198).
27 It is interesting to compare these accounts with how Browne characterizes the Islamic leaders appointed by the state. In his journal from October 12, 1911, he describes the representative of orthodox Islam in a very different light: “I’ve been in the intelligence department now about a month and have met quite an interesting lot of people. 1) The grand Mufti, by name [sic] Sheikh al Tayyib Hashimi—a most pleasant man—middle age, well [illegible word] + I believe broad minded Arab. He is [illegible word] quite loyal to the government + of assistance to us. He is the brother of 2) Sheikh Abdul Qasim, cadi of Wad Medani—a great friend of mine…a broad minded pleasant man” (SAD 400/10/3).
28 “Faki” is a Sudanese colloquial term derived (in meaning and spelling) from the standard Arabic word faqih (“jurist,” in Islamic law). The term refers to a man of religion who may play the role of teacher in an Islamic school, a Sufi official, or a religious healer (Warburg 1978: 217). NB: For the purposes of this paper I will use the English plural, an unitalicized “s,” instead of the Arabic plural for ease of English reading. Thus, for example, the plural of faki, fuqara, becomes fakis and the plural of tariqa, turuq, becomes tariqas.
29 Hanafi law was the law of the Ottoman Empire which they brought to many of their colonies. Maliki law is the Islamic law shared by most Islamic countries in Sub-Saharan Africa (Fluehr-Lobban 1987:29-31).
32 See (Van der Veer 2001: 14) and (Mcleod 2000: 3) for a explanation and critique of this thesis.
33 In his insightful article “Reconfigurations of Law and Ethics in Colonial Egypt,” Talal Asad tries to account for the changes in the concept of law, religious authority, and ethics in colonial Egypt that opened up a space for Egyptians to conceptualize the idea of secularism. He argues that a certain type of transmogrification of religion was necessary in order to “clear a space within the state for modern ethics” (Asad 2003: 255). British reforms of religion in Sudan were equally to allow for the emergence of a new secular ethic.
35 There were perhaps other reasons why the British imported Egyptians to be their underlings. After listing all of the deficiencies in the Egyptian character (among them a lack of curiosity and initiative, a lack of rational facility, fatalism and submissiveness), Cromer comments on the advantages of these deficiencies for the British. Cromer argues that while the radical difference in character between the “Oriental” and the European leads to a lack of ability of the two races to understand one another, “Nevertheless there is one saving clause, which serves in some respect as a bond of union between the two races. Once explain to an Egyptian what he is to do, and he will assimilate the idea rapidly. He is a good imitator, and will make a faithful, even sometimes a too servile copy of the work of his European teacher. His civilization may be a veneer, yet he will readily adopt the letter, the catchwords and jargon, if not the spirit of the European administrative systems. His movements will, it is true, be not unfrequently, those of an automaton , but a skillfully constructed automaton may do a great deal of useful work….No necessity will, therefore, arise for employing any large number of English subordinates. On the other hand, inasmuch as the Egyptian has but little power of initiation, and often does not thoroughly grasp the reasons why his teachers have impelled him in certain directions, a relapse will ensue if English supervision is to be withdrawn” (1916: 155, v.2).
37 The name of General Charles George Gordon comes up often in histories of 19th century Sudan as well as popular literature on the period (for example in the famous book by A.E.W. Mason entitled The Four Feathers, which has been made into a film five times, most recently in 2002). Not surprisingly, the British named their first academic institution in Sudan after General Gordon, the “Gordon College” which I mention here. Due to the importance of Gordon in the history of Sudan as well as the British historical imaginary, I offer here a brief outline of the role he played in the backdrop to the situation I discuss in this paper. When Lord Kitchener conquered the Sudan in 1898, he claimed to have come to restore Egyptian control over the Sudan. Egyptian rule in the Sudan had a 60-year history. In the mid-19th century, British influence was very strong in Egypt and, with the British government’s encouragement, the ruler of Egypt (the Khedive Ismail) appointed a British man by the name of Charles George Gordon to be Governor-General of the Sudan. Gordon took his governor-generalship as much more than a mere bureaucratic position. Spurred on by the British Anti-Slavery Society, Gordon engaged in a vigorous campaign of repressing the extensive Sudanese slave trade. The slave trade in the Sudan was an ancient network run by northern Arab tribes who captured black Africans in the South of the Sudan and enslaved them in agricultural work in the North, as well as sending many of them to Arabia. The slave trade had become essential to the economic well being of these northern tribes and thus Gordon’s vocal opposition, though it didn’t entirely stamp the practice out, was seen as a major irritant. Gordon’s repression of the slave trade, which he often (and probably not wisely) justified under the banner of his Christianity, along with the declining economic fortunes of the Sudan in this period, led the indigenous northern leadership to argue that the Ottoman state was being run by Christians who did not have the best interests of the Sudan in mind. This declining situation came to a head in 1881, when a man by the name of Mohammad Ahmed declared himself the Mahdi, and led a successful revolt to overthrow the Turco-Egyptian rule over the Sudan. This revolt culminated in early 1885 with the fall of Khartoum. During this battle, General Gordon, who had left Sudan for roughly five years and returned as governor of Khartoum shortly before its fall, was killed. There was a great sense of guilt on the part of the British following Gordon’s death over the circumstances in which it occurred. Gordon had called for reinforcement from Great Britain, as he knew he would be no match for the Mahdi’s forces. After much debate in Parliament, the British government finally sent out a fleet of ships to the besieged Gordon, which arrived down the Nile only a few days too late, learning at port that Gordon was already dead. The horror of Gordon’s death would haunt the British for a long time to come, and many have speculated that the conquest of the Sudan in 1898 was undertaken to a great degree to avenge Gordon’s death. The last line of Wingate’s Mahdism and the Egyptian Sudan spells out the interesting justification for the conquering of Sudan, “That a new and better Sudan will be raised up over the ashes of Gordon, and all those brave officers and men who have perished in the loyal performance of their duty, is the fervent hope of every well wisher for the prosperity of Egypt” (491). (Note also here that Wingate sees the British conquer of Sudan as returning Sudan to its rightful owners: the Egyptians). (NB: The above biography of Gordon was gathered in piecemeal from all of the histories of Sudan I mention in my bibliography as well as from helpful email exchanges with Prof. MW Daly; for a more complete history of Gordon see: Gordon and the Sudan: Prologue to the Mahdiyya by Alice Moore-Harell (London: Frank Cass) 2001.
38 This establishment of Muslim religious training at Gordon College was not accepted by the Christian public back home. Charles Watson, the corresponding secretary of The Board of Foreign Missions of the United Presbyterian Church of North America, whose group was doing missionary work amongst the animists in the south of the Sudan, wrote Wingate on the 20th of May 1912, of “and extremely widespread and deep desire of the Christian public that the memorial to Gordon’s name should bear a closer relation to his religious practices and convictions” (SAD 181/2/191).
39 The curriculum of this college is deserving of further study, but all documents associated with it are in the National Archives in Khartoum, which I have not been able to access yet.
40 “Celebration on the Laying of the Foundation Stone of the Khartoum Mosque,” in The Sudan Gazette, #15, pgs. 1-2.
41 Quoted in, Hourani 1983: 152. My emphasis.
43 FO 633/25, “Terms of Viscount Cromer’s Speech to the Sheikhs and Notables of the Soudan, at Omdurman, on January 4th, 1899.”
44 Van der Veer 2001: 14. Van der Veer is using Jose Casanova’s definition as found in Public Religions in the Modern World (Chicago: University of Chicago Press) 1994.
45 Talal Asad makes a related point about the way in which secular states make religion public, by focusing on the creation of the idea of human rights: “the individual’s ability to believe what he or she chooses is translated onto a legal right to express one’s beliefs freely and to exercise one’s religion without hinderance—so ‘religion’ is brought back into the public domain” (2003: 205).
46 FO 78/5022, “Memorandum to Mudirs,” enclosure in “Lord Cromer to the Marquees of Salisbury, March 17, 1899.”
47 FO 633/25 “Speech delivered to the Sheikhs and Notables of the Soudan, at Khartoum, 24th December 1900.”
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