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‘We don’t despair, since we know that Islam is the truth’
New Expressions of Religiosity in Young Adherents of the
Tabligh Jama‘at in The Gambia
Marloes Janson
Zentrum Moderner Orient (ZMO), Berlin
Paper to be presented at the conference Youth and the Global South: Religion, Politics and the
Making of Youth in Africa, Asia and the Middle East, Dakar, 13–15 October 2006
Introduction
When my neighbour – an elderly imam and marabout trained in the Sufi tradition1 – in the
Gambian town of Sukuta where I was conducting field research,2 learned that I was interested
in the expansion of the Tabligh Jama‘at, a transnational Islamic missionary movement
originating in South Asia, he summoned me to his compound. After showing me pictures of
his master, a Tijani sheikh from Senegal, 3 he warned me of the dangers of ‘asking children
(dindingos) questions about Islam’. Instead of interviewing them I should have come to him:
1
My neighbour presented himself as an outspoken Tijani, but many of the ‘mainstream’
Muslims whom I interviewed did not formally affiliate themselves with any Sufi order.
Nevertheless, I take them to be part of a Sufi tradition, since they involve themselves in
mystical practices and employ special litanies of prayer and techniques of invoking God’s
names as ways of approaching God (see Soares 2005: 37). Most of them have been trained in
traditional Quranic schools run by marabouts in which the emphasis is on the recitation of
Quranic verses. Knowledge is structured in this system in a hierarchical way and its
dissemination is restricted to a few specialists. Muslim saints are believed to be at the highest
point in the hierarchy before God. The reformist tradition, represented in the quotation below
by the young adherents of the Tabligh Jama‘at, calls much of the Sufi tradition into question
and seeks to change the way Islam is practised locally by modelling Islamic practice on the
Arab world. In this reformist tradition knowledge is theoretically available to everyone, and
the individual’s intellectual development is no longer associated with divine intervention
(Brenner 2000: 7–8; Soares 2005: 9–10).
2
This paper is based on ethnographic fieldwork undertaken between November 2003 and
April 2004, April and June 2005, and March and June 2006 in The Gambia (West Africa).
The research between 2003 and 2005 was funded by a grant from the International Institute
for the Study of Islam in the Modern World (ISIM), in Leiden (the Netherlands). The research
in 2006 was funded by a grant from Deutsche Forschungsgemeinschaft (DFG), and conducted
under the ZMO’s research project ‘Urban Youth Cultures in West Africa: Processes of
Translocal Appropriation’. I would like to thank Mamadou Diouf, with whom I discussed my
latest fieldwork data, for his valuable comments and suggestions.
3
The Tijani order was established in Fez, Morocco, in the last decade of the eighteenth
century. It was founded by the Algerian Ahmad al-Tijani. In the mid-nineteenth century Al
1
Sufis are willing to sacrifice in order to worship Allah, but Mashalas [see below]
don’t do that. They are lazy Muslims. There are too many Mashalas here, especially
among the youth. I don’t support them. They don’t act according to our ancestors’
ways. That is why I reject them. They don’t know anything about Islam. When we
accept their ways, misunderstanding will enter into Islam. That is why I send them
away when they come to the mosque in Sukuta (…). A child should obey an elder, a
son should obey his father, a wife should obey her husband, and the Muslim
congregation should obey its imam. But they don’t show any respect for the imam.
These small boys are now provoking the elders. That shows that they are not true
Muslims but hypocrites (...). If someone is more knowledgeable in Islam than you,
why do you reject him? The Mashalas are ignorant; they only want to mislead
people (…). Life in this world is very short. We should try to inquire into Islam
before we die. You are welcome any time you wish to discuss more about Islam.
My neighbour used the term ‘Mashalas’ as a pejorative nickname for the adherents of
the Tabligh Jama‘at, a reformist movement encouraging greater religious devotion and
observance that appeals especially to youngsters in The Gambia. 4 Mashala is derived from the
Arabic ma sha‘ Allah, ‘what God wishes’, an expression the adherents often exclaim. Since
they do not show respect for the established Sufi Muslim elders, my neighbour condemns the
Mashalas. In order to give vent to his contempt, he also called them dindingos, that is,
children. By referring to them in this way the imam-marabout depicted Mashalas as idle and
their knowledge of Islam as insignificant. Defining them as ‘small boys’, as people who are
not entitled to speak in public since local power relations are of old embedded in
gerontocracy, appeared to be a strategy to guarantee the Sufi elders’ hegemony. But although
my neighbour called them ignorant, he considered Mashalas a source of danger since they
introduce misunderstandings into Gambian society. This view was endorsed by the vicepresident of The Gambia Supreme Islamic Council, 5 who told me that he suspected that
Haji Umar Tal disseminated its doctrine in Senegal, from where it spread to other West
African countries.
4
Because of its negative connotation the Gambian adherents of the Jama‘at usually do not use
the term Mashala to describe themselves. Several adherents told me: ‘We call ourselves just
ordinary Muslims. All we do is follow the Prophet’s footsteps.’ But ‘ordinary’ may be
interpreted here as ‘extraordinary’. In an attempt to indicate semantically that they are the
only ones who correctly practise the Sunna, that is the Prophetic traditions, the adherents also
call themselves Sunnis or Ahl-al-Sunna (the people of the Sunna) (cf. Augis 2005: 311). They
cited a common Hadith (account of what the Prophet said or did) which claims there are 73
denominations in Islam, only one of which, in their opinion the Tabligh Jama‘at, is destined
for Paradise. Worldwide Mashalas are known as Tablighis, a term I will also use in this paper.
5
This is an umbrella Muslim organization established in 1992 with the aim of facilitating
communication between Islamic associations and the government on the one hand and the
outside Islamic world on the other.
2
Mashalas will ‘dominate The Gambia within a period of five to ten years and will eventually
destroy the country’.
This picture of Mashalas corresponds to the image in social science literature on African
youth cultures, in which there is a tendency to define youth as a ‘problem’ and to depict them
as a ‘lost generation’ (e.g. Cruise O’Brien 1996; Seekings 1996; De Boeck and Honwana
2005). Youth is frequently associated with social marginality, and, since it has little to lose, it
is often stigmatized as radical and violent (e.g. Wulff 1995; Cruise O’Brien 1996; Diouf
2003). However, the Gambian adherents of the Tabligh Jama‘at with whom I worked do not
correspond to the stereotyped image of marginalized youth. This paper endeavours to study
these youngsters as agents rather than as victims of societal change or objects of adult
activity. It will do so by exploring how they appropriate the ideology of the Jama‘at in their
daily lives, and adapt it to the local, mostly urban, context in which they operate. Instead of
talking about young people, my paper will focus on how Gambian youngsters themselves
imagine ‘youth’ and how they produce a youth culture centred upon Islam.
Although most Gambian Tablighis are of young age, ‘youth’ is not a fixed social
category and indicates a wider meaning than age (e.g. Wulff 1995: 6–8; Durham 2000: 115–
116; De Boeck 2005: 204–205; De Boeck and Honwana 2005: 4). Instead of providing a
definition, Durham (2000: 116) thinks of youth less as a specific age group, but as a ‘social
shifter’ – a term borrowed from linguistics. A shifter is, according to Durham (ibid.), a special
kind of indexical term, a term that works not through absolute referentiality to a fixed context,
but one that relates the speaker to a relational, or indexical, context. The concept of youth
should therefore be studied relationally, situated in the field of generation, authority and
knowledge claims. It will appear that ‘youth’ in the context of the Tabligh Jama‘at should first
and foremost be interpreted as having an awareness of what are considered the ‘real
principles’ of Islam, as described in the Quran and Hadith, and a willingness to live
accordingly, as expressed in the Tablighis’ codes of conduct and dress. The Tablighis equate
being ‘old’ with being rigid and holding on to sinful customary practices.
During my field research it emerged that intergenerational competing notions of Islam
are expressed particularly through life-cycle rituals. By using a wedding as a case study I will
illustrate that Tablighi religiosity is a kind of protest against the ritual festivities of the more
traditional Sufi Muslims – that is, the older generation – and their conspicuous consumption
during such festivities. Religiosity may be defined here as a concern to conform with God’s
commandments, live according to the dictates of the Quran and Sunna (the Prophetic
3
traditions), typically by following in the footsteps of the Prophet and his Companions. 6 In the
celebration of Tablighi rituals, established social and religious values, such as a hierarchy
based on seniority and expressed through gift relationships, are redefined. The principles of
seniority and gerontocracy have become the ground for a generational conflict, which is
expressed in terms of a ritual transformation of Gambian society. 7 Before recording the case
study and analysing it, I will begin with a brief history of the Tabligh Jama‘at, its
establishment in The Gambia and its central features.
Historical outline of the Tabligh Jama‘at and its establishment in The Gambia
The emergence of the Tabligh Jama‘at as a movement for the revival of Islam can be seen as a
continuation of a broader trend of Islamic resurgence in northern India in the wake of the
collapse of Muslim power and consolidation of British rule in the mid-nineteenth century.
One manifestation of this trend was the rapid growth of madrasas (Islamic schools). The
Jama‘at evolved out of the teachings and practices of the founders of the orthodox Dar-ul
‘Ulum madrasa in Deoband, a town near the Indian capital Delhi. The ulema (Arabic ‘ulama:
scholars learned in Islamic sciences) affiliated with this school saw themselves as crusaders
against popular expressions of Islam, as well as Hindu and Christian conversion movements,
and they aspired to bring to life again the days of the Prophet Muhammad’s Companions (cf.
Masud 2000: 3–5; Metcalf 2002: 4, 8–9; Sikand 2002: 16–17, 66).
Mawlana Ilyas was a disciple of the leading Deobandi ulema, who, after his graduation,
taught Muslims about correct Islamic beliefs and practices at mosque-based schools.
However, he soon became disillusioned with this approach, realizing that Islamic schools
were producing ‘religious functionaries’ but not zealous preachers who were willing to go
from door to door to remind people of the key values and practices of Islam. He then decided
6
Following Whitehouse (2000), a distinction can be drawn between an imagistic and a
doctrinal mode of religiosity. In the case of the Tabligh Jama‘at, the imagistic mode includes
icons and material signs such as an Islamic dress code (see below), a beard, a mishwak – a
twig used to clean the teeth before prayer, a backpack (to transport one’s bedding and cooking
utensils during missionary tours), and in the case of Tablighi women a face veil. The doctrinal
mode is transmitted through Islamic texts, such as the Quran, Hadith and the Faza’il-e-a‘maal
(‘The Merits of Practice’) – the standard corpus of Tablighi texts, composed of a selection of
Hadith, which offers guidance for everyday life – but also tape-recorded sermons. In the light
of Whitehouse’s argument (2000: 175) that language is the dominant medium of the doctrinal
mode of religiosity, it is significant that most Gambian Tablighis are not literate in Arabic
(see below).
7
According to Roy (2004: 145), generational conflict is at the heart of the contemporary
Islamic revival.
4
to quit his teaching position to begin missionary work through itinerant preaching (Ahmad
1995: 166). Ilyas strove for a purification of Islam as practised by individual Muslims through
following more closely the rules laid down in the Sunna. In order to make Muslims ‘true
believers’, he insisted that it was the religious duty of not just a few learned scholars but of all
Muslims to carry out tabligh, that is, missionary work aimed at the moral transformation of
Muslims. Missionary tours by lay preachers became the hallmark of the Jama‘at,8 established
officially in 1927 in Delhi.
Over the years the Tabligh Jama‘at has expanded from its international headquarters in
India to numerous other countries throughout the world. It has grown into what is probably
the largest Islamic movement of contemporary times. It has come to establish a presence in
about 150 countries throughout the world, and its annual conferences in Pakistan and
Bangladesh have grown into the second largest religious congregation of the Muslim world
after the pilgrimage to Mecca (cf. Ahmad 1995: 165; Sikand 2002: xi). Despite its worldwide
influence on the lives of millions of Muslims, scholars have paid almost no attention to its
spreading in sub-Saharan Africa. 9 An explanation for this indifference is that this region is
frequently, but unjustly, seen as the ‘periphery’ of the Muslim world. In this paper I focus on
The Gambia, which, despite its small size, during the last decade has become a booming
centre of Tablighi activities in West Africa (Janson 2005).10
South Asian missionaries reached West Africa in the early 1960s (Gaborieau 2000: 129–
131), but their ideas did not find a fertile breeding-ground in The Gambia until the 1990s. A
factor that has facilitated the spread of Tablighi ideology in this country is its colonial
heritage. The ideology has been disseminated mainly by Pakistanis who preached in English,
which had become the national language in colonial times. The Jama‘at’s growth can thus be
seen as riding partly on the hegemony of the English language, which after all is the language
8
In this respect the Tabligh Jama‘at differs largely from many other African reformist
movements which usually strive for the ‘true’ implementation of Islam through modernizing
religious schooling (see Loimeier 2003: 237, 240–241). The Jama‘at, on the contrary, sees
preaching as the sole means to ‘invite people to Allah’s path’.
9
Diop (1994: 153) claims that the Jama‘at is active from Senegal to Zambia, but, apart from a
small number of studies focusing on South Africa (Moosa 2000; Vahed 2003; McDonald
2004) and Uganda (Kayunga 1993; Chande 2000: 355–358), almost nothing is known about
the movement elsewhere in sub-Saharan Africa.
10
During the late nineties, Malian Tablighis who intended to go on a 40-day missionary tour
were sent to The Gambia for training (communication with Baz Lecocq, June 2004). During
my field research I met Tablighis from India, Pakistan, South Africa, Mauritania and France
who had come to The Gambia in order to disseminate Tablighi ideology and to learn from
Gambian missionaries. Furthermore, the Tablighis proudly mentioned that The Gambia was
the second country in West Africa where women are actively involved in missionary tours.
5
of globalization. 11 In Senegal, the neighbouring francophone country, the movement is indeed
much less popular. This has, probably, not only to do with language but also with the fact that
Sufi orders are more prominent in Senegal than in The Gambia. In Senegal the marabouts
leading these orders to a large extent control Islam, whereas in The Gambia there seems to be
more room for reformist inclinations.12 As a result of recent Islamic resurgence – a process
that coincided with the assumption of power in 1994 by Yahya Jammeh, who appealed to
Islam to enhance his legitimacy and to establish closer relations with the Islamic powers in the
Gulf States (Darboe 2004; Janson forthcoming a) – a growing number of Gambians seemed to
be receptive to a new interpretation of their faith, a need that the Tablighi preachers took
advantage of.
Several Tablighis gave a third explanation for the expansion of the Tabligh Jama‘at in
The Gambia. In their opinion it does not only have to do with the country’s political and
religious background but also with its cultural disposition. A Tablighi told me: ‘Gambians are
nice and hospitable people. We are used to give and take. That is something natural in us. We
therefore easily welcomed the wandering Pakistani preachers and were influenced by their
ideas.’ A Quranic teacher who had studied for several years in Libya, was more sceptical of
this character trait: ‘Gambians easily believe what people coming from outside tell them.
Even when they are given a Bible translated in Arabic, they will take it serious since they
have trust in everything coming from the Arab world.’
The history of the Tabligh Jama‘at in The Gambia began with Karamoko Dukureh, who
went on pilgrimage to Mecca and afterwards studied in Saudi Arabia for about 20 years. After
his studies, in the early 1980s Dukureh returned to his native village, Gambisara, a Serahuli
village in eastern Gambia, 13 and set out to make the villagers more aware of their religion by
denouncing their traditional ways of worship and popular forms of piety. One of his students
told me that Dukureh condemned especially maraboutage, arguing that instead of paying a
marabout to make a charm, one should pray to God directly. In his opinion marabouts were
charlatans who exploit their clients. Furthermore, he preached against activities that took
place during life-cycle rituals, where men and women mingle, sing, make music, dance, spend
11
It is striking that, in the processes of Islamic resurgence and (re)‘authentification’ of Islam
in The Gambia, the colonial language is used as a medium for transmission.
12
The continuing importance of the Sufi orders in Senegal relates to differences in the
colonial experience, particularly French colonial policies towards Muslims, as well as postcolonial state policies (Soares 2005: 272n.30).
13
The Serahuli were propagators of Islam, spreading the religion during their trade missions
in West Africa.
6
a lot of money and neglect prayer. Other than a few progressive men, the villagers, who
feared that Dukureh wanted to introduce a ‘new religion’, and even called him a lunatic, did
not agree with his reformist ideas.
When Dukureh’s sermons became increasingly opposed to the village elders’ traditions
he was prevented from preaching in the mosque. Finally he was exiled, but continued
spreading his ideology in the urban setting of Serrekunda, in the Jama‘at’s mosque that came
to be known as Markaz (‘centre’), where he was appointed imam. He also established a small
madrasa, where he instructed his students in Arabic, Islamic studies and some secular
subjects. When the number of students increased in the mid-1990s the school was transferred
to another neighbourhood in Serrekunda, where it still exists. This transfer was not only to do
with lack of space, but also with a difference in perception between the madrasa teachers and
the Tablighis in Markaz. While the first put more emphasis on Islamic education, arguing that
before one sets out on a missionary tour one needs a profound religious training, the latter
claimed, referring to a Hadith, that even when one knows only one word from the Quran it is
one’s religious duty to convey it.14
When Dukureh died in 2000 Markaz no longer had a regular imam. Gambian preachers
who have long since been involved in the Jama‘at now led the Thursday night and Friday
prayers. A small council of ‘elders’ (shura) is in charge of Markaz. ‘Elder’ does not refer here
to only age and generation, but rather to long-standing experience with missionary work. A
shura member explained to me: ‘An elder can be young in age but old in experience with
tabligh.’ The amir, the head of the shura, is a young man in his mid-30s, but his long beard
indicates that he has been involved in missionary work for a long time.15
A group of Dukureh’s followers, calling themselves Sunni Jama‘at, remained in the
village of Gambisara after their teacher’s exile. Like Dukureh, they insisted on praying with
their arms folded on the chest rather than, in the Maliki style of praying, with the arms besides
the body, which is most common in West Africa. Since they were beaten by the villagers
when they prayed with folded arms in the central mosque, in the early 1990s they decided to
14
Against this background we have to interpret Roy’s argument (2004: 169) that ‘young bornagain Muslims do not want to undertake years of study; they want the truth immediately’. As
a result, Gambian Tablighis are often criticized for being ‘illiterate and immature preachers’,
as was alluded to by the imam-marabout in the Introduction. A Gambian joke I came across
said that just as their trousers are incomplete – following the Prophet, Tablighis wear trousers
above the ankles, as will be elucidated below – they themselves are not full preachers.
15
The beard is part of the Tablighis’ religious ‘uniform’. A Tablighi who had joined the
movement a couple of years ago asked me to bring a lotion from Europe that would stimulate
hair growth.
7
build their own mosque with donor money from a Senegalese reformist movement and a
Kuwaiti sheikh. Most of the villagers believed it was improper to have two mosques in the
same community and sought for state intervention. Consequently, President Jammeh
demolished the mosque and arrested four of Dukureh’s most prominent followers. Following
their detention, the Supreme Islamic Council determined that people could pray any way they
wanted, be it with folded arms, straight arms, or even with the arms on the back or head; but,
still, Dukureh’s followers were reluctant to pray in the central mosque. Instead, they prayed in
their homes and on Fridays in the mosques of neighbouring villages whose imams were more
open to what they call ‘Sunni Islam’. This situation continues to this very day.
The Tabligh Jama‘at as an urban youth movement
The striking features of the Tabligh Jama‘at in The Gambia are its popularity with the local
population and youth in particular. In South and East Africa the Jama‘at has appeal primarily
among Muslims of Indian ancestry (see Moosa 2000). In The Gambia this target group is very
small. After training by Pakistani preachers, the missionary effort has been adopted largely by
Serahuli (see above) and Mandinka, who form the largest ethnic group in The Gambia.
Nevertheless, these local Muslims are often considered outsiders by non-Tablighis on account
of their ideas, practices and dress code. This applies particularly to female Tablighis; because
their faces and skin are usually completely covered, many Gambians assume that Saudi
Arabian women are hidden behind the black body-covering veils. 16
A survey conducted in South Africa indicates that the Tabligh Jama‘at holds greater
attraction for middle-aged persons, many of whom have for most of their lives not been
devout in terms of observing the five pillars of Islam (Moosa 2000: 212). An explanation for
the greater appeal of the movement among the elderly is that they have more time, and
probably also more money, to invest in missionary work.17 In The Gambia, on the other hand,
the movement holds special attraction for middle-class Gambians between the ages of roughly
15 and 35.18 While Ahmad (1995: 169) claims that in South Asia the Jama‘at has minimal
16
Tablighi women are often put on a par with Wahhabi women, the adherents of the Saudian
reformist movement of Mohammad Ibn ‘Abd al-Wahhab, who developed a doctrine that
emphasized the oneness of God and condemned all popular forms of piety. Despite the
similarities in ideology and practice, Tablighis consider themselves a separate group.
17
Since it is believed that the Prophet advocated self-help, Tablighis are expected to pay for
their missionary tours out of their own pocket.
18
Boys below the age of 16 are not allowed to go on missionary tours without a companion,
or to spend the night in Markaz. A Tablighi explained to me: ‘Sometimes Allah blesses those
going on missionary tours with nur (‘light’). It will change their life. If one is very young, one
8
influence on college and university campuses,19 in The Gambia the majority of Tablighis had
a modern, secular education.20 They are referred to as ‘English students’ in local idiom, 21 and
are to be found particularly at Gambia College, the University of The Gambia, and also –
somewhat paradoxically – at Nusrat High school, the school run by the Ahmadiyya Mission. 22
A young Tablighi explained the Jama‘at’s appeal among Gambian youth as follows:
Young people especially are involved in the movement, because the Prophet
summoned youth to spread Islam. They are in the position to sacrifice their life for
the sake of Allah. In order to disseminate Islam all over the world, the Prophet called
upon young people. Most of the sahabas (the Prophet’s Companions) were young.
Young people are more energetic and therefore it is easier for them to set out on
missionary tours. Allah loves the youth who are willing to spend their life in His
path more than the elders.
A leading figure in the Jama‘at added:
Allah becomes happier when youth worship Him rather than the elders, since they
are strong, handsome and have the power to influence others. A Hadith claims that
when the world comes to an end, the sun will come close to our heads. It will
become extremely hot. Among all human beings only seven people will be provided
with special shade. These seven persons are young people, who spent their entire life
worshipping Allah and spreading His words.
All the Tablighis whom I interviewed agreed that young people are more open to new ideas
than the elderly, for whom the Jama‘at is ‘beyond their understanding’.
cannot handle it and may go mad.’ The nur with which they were blessed explains, according
to some informants, why their skin colour became lighter when they engaged in missionary
work.
19
However, a change has set in during recent years (personal communication with Dietrich
Reetz and Farish Noor, November 2005).
20
For the attraction of reformist Islam for youth trained in a secular tradition, see also
LeBlanc (2005).
21
In this way they are distinguished from the ‘Arabic students’: the pupils from daara or
majlis (traditional Quranic schools) or madrasa. Unlike the Tablighis, the latter are usually
fluent in Arabic.
22
Both the Tabligh Jama‘at and Ahmadiyya originated in India and both are missionary
movements, but nonetheless they have very different concepts of Islam. On the basis of
Ahmadiyya’s belief that the Prophet Muhammad is not the last prophet on earth, the Jama‘at
rejects the Ahmadiyya Mission. Elsewhere (Janson forthcoming b) I have formulated the
hypothesis that the Tabligh Jama‘at might be interpreted as a countermovement that
proliferated because of Ahmadiyya’s long-standing influence in The Gambia (see Fisher
1963: 126–129).
9
The Tabligh Jama‘at is largely an urban phenomenon in The Gambia. In this context
Levtzion’s argument (1987: 16–18) that modern reform efforts are usually urban efforts that
criticize and seek to eradicate Sufi-oriented Islam, which is generally associated with rural
societies, can be taken as starting-point.23 During my field research it emerged that a youth’s
conversion to the Tablighi ideology often leads to a migration to the Gambian city of
Serrekunda, where Markaz is located, or its surroundings. This migration usually involves an
alienation from the family, which stays behind and which often holds more to Sufi
conceptions of Islam. Deprived of their traditional social networks, these youngsters find that
Islam has become more meaningful as a form of identification and a medium of selfexpression (see also Masquelier 1999; LeBlanc 2000, 2005).
In Markaz the Tablighis have created novel forms of sociability. As such, a Tablighi
compared it to a ‘petrol station’, where he meets his ‘boys’ and is ‘fuelled with new ideas and
energy’. Every Thursday Tablighi men gather in Markaz to perform their prayers, immerse
themselves in constant remembrance of God, listen to sermons, recite the Quran and other
religious texts, talk about the faith, even spending the night there. Markaz is not open to
women, but they have their own meeting places in and around Serrekunda. They come
together every Sunday morning in the house of one of the Tablighi women to listen to a
sermon that instructs them in the Islamic principles delivered from behind a curtain by a male
preacher. The Jama‘at imposes principles for every conceivable action, from worshipping to
dressing, sleeping, eating, drinking, and, according to two Tablighis, even such a trivial act as
‘removing a fly from one’s food’. These principles reinforce the movement’s cohesiveness to
such an extent that it is somewhat comparable to a surrogate family. Interestingly, in this
context, the Tablighis address each other as ‘brother’ and ‘sister’.24 A Tablighi who joined the
Jama’at a few years ago noted: ‘Tabligh brings real love. The brothers in Markaz love each
other, care for each other and help each other. We treat each other as relatives, while our
blood relatives sometimes even refuse to participate in our ceremonies.’ The cohesiveness of
23
One of the very few studies that address Islamic reformism in a rural context in West Africa
is Niezen (1990).
24
By using kinship terms they draw sharp boundaries between their own group and other
Muslims, who are considered to be ‘ignorant’ of Islam, a term also used by the imammarabout quoted in the Introduction in order to discredit the Tablighis’ Islamic knowledge.
10
the movement is an important explanation for its successful appeal in The Gambia, a country
that is characterized by socio-economic and, increasingly, political instability. 25
Biaya (2005: 222) claims that the African city, bent under the weight of the postcolony,
nonetheless offers young people perspectives for escaping the disastrous socio-economic
conditions in which they grow up and affirming their identity. One of these perspectives is
what he calls the ‘syntonic identity’, whereby the youth’s behaviour is determined by
religious frameworks and social regulations. These frameworks and regulations intervene in
order to temper the revolt of youth against their inhuman condition and convey an ideology of
forgiveness and submission (ibid.). Somewhat similarly, a growing number of Gambian youth
invest in Islamic missionary work as a way of standing up to the malaise in which they find
themselves. 26 Although they do not benefit with any material reward, they are assured, they
believe, of a spiritual reward. A young Tablighi said: ‘We don’t despair, since we know that
Islam is the truth.’
In order to explain the link between the socio-economic crisis and the expansion of the
Tabligh Jama‘at, a young man who at one time in his life had wanted to join the movement
told me:
Many Gambian young people do not have an easy life. They want to work but there
are no jobs, or they want to travel to Babylon [i.e., Europe]27 but they don’t have
papers. It is not easy for them to get what they want. Some start smoking marihuana
and go mad, while others start praying more regularly. The preachers tell them that
they will be rewarded for their prayers. These youth fall in love with the new
religion. All they do is follow Allah’s commandments and say ‘Ma sha‘ Allah’. My
old friend is a good example. He worked as a manager for a bank, but lost his job.
He got a loan, but, because he could not pay the money back, he was arrested. In
order to overcome his problems he became a Mashala, a hard-liner.
25
President Yayha Jammeh came to power after a military coup in 1994, since when he has
been accused several times of violating human rights. In March 2006 an alleged coup attempt
was nipped in the bud.
26
The National Youth Policy Document 1999–2008 shows that the level of youth
unemployment is increasing at an alarming rate in The Gambia and estimates that over 35,000
youths (out of a total population of about 1,4 million) are now searching for jobs to improve
their declining standard of living (The Independent [Banjul], 10 January 2005). Despite the
lack of formal employment, I have the impression that Tablighis, more than other Gambian
youth, are involved in creating jobs. A growing number of informants were involved in small
businesses, such as selling perfume on a non-alcoholic basis, religious books, Muslim apparel
and other Islamic goods. Besides, they interpret tabligh as work. Nevertheless, many Sufi
elders whom I interviewed, including the imam-marabout we met in the Introduction,
considered Tablighis to be idle, spending their days in the mosque.
27
‘Babylon’ as a term referring to the West derives from reggae music.
11
This suggests that Gambian youngsters have found in the Jama‘at a controlling framework
that allows them to cope with socio-economic wrongs (see also Khedimellah 2002). The
movement’s ban on conspicuous consumption and its emphasis on an austere lifestyle fit in
with their economic position (see also Masquelier 1999: 231).
Although Tablighis are proliferating in The Gambia, especially among the young
population, they still form a relatively small group. I estimate they constitute about 1 per cent
of the Gambian population of about 1.4 million, but in the absence of membership records it
is hard to calculate exactly. Just to give an indication of the Jama‘at’s size, the Tablighis
estimated the average number of believers attending the Thursday night programme in
Markaz at about 1,000, and I was told that during the annual conference last July 5,000
people, both from within and outside The Gambia, participated. According to the Tablighis,
however, it is not quantity but quality that matters. The Jama‘at has been quite successful in
bringing about a religious transformation in Gambian society, especially in the performance
of the life-cycle rituals associated with Islam, as will become clear in the case study that
follows.
Case study of a Tablighi wedding
After a ta‘lim (a female learning session), Fatima, the young woman in whose house the
session took place, and her friend Aicha accompanied me to the main road from where I had
to take a taxi to my host’s compound. 28 Fatima was dressed from head to foot in black, which
also veiled her face, while Aicha wore only a hijab. According to Fatima the difference in
their way of dressing could be explained by their marital status. She confided in me that she
married when she was 17 in order to escape from her family, who did not accept her Islamic
ideology or her style of dressing; in fact her older sister used to beat her. Since her marriage
she covered her face, she explained, while Aicha, who was around 20 years old, was still
unmarried and therefore should not veil herself completely so that her bridegroom-to-be could
notice her beauty and healthy body. Aicha told me that she was not yet ready for a marriage
since she first wanted to finish her education, but when I saw her about one month later, she
was preparing for her wedding ceremony. In the meantime she had received a proposal from a
young Tablighi, and, although they did not know each other well, God had informed her by
means of a dream that he was the right husband.
28
In order to protect the privacy of my informants, I am using pseudonyms.
12
On the day of the wedding I did not meet Aicha in her parents’ compound. It emerged
that there was a conflict between Aicha and her mother, who had wanted to celebrate her
daughter’s wedding in an ostentatious way, since Aicha was her only daughter. But Aicha and
her husband, Lamin, wanted to celebrate the ceremony in a low-profile way. Because of this
conflict, Aicha had moved to the compound of one of her female relatives, while Lamin spent
the day with his Tablighi friends in Fatima’s husband’s house, listening to bayans, lectures
reciting Islamic principles and examples from the Quran and the Hadith, and tape-recorded
sermons.
When I arrived in the compound where Aicha had retired to, the atmosphere was tense.
In one corner of the room a mentally handicapped boy was watching a children’s DVD with
cartoons. Every scene was accompanied by a burst of laughter. The Tablighi women, for
whom watching television is sinful and acting loudly is a sign of arrogance, felt visibly
awkward. They tried to make the wedding into a religious occasion by discussing the
importance of proper Muslim dress for women. They were all dressed from head to foot in
black and had removed their face veils, irrespective of the boy’s presence. In another corner
of the room some of Aicha’s female relatives were seated, wearing their best dresses and the
latest hairstyles. The oldest Tablighi woman, who was lovingly addressed as ‘aunty’ by the
other Tablighi women, was practising da‘wa (calling people to Islam) among the young
women in their party dresses. By quoting Quranic verses and Hadith, she tried to convince
them of the importance of covering themselves properly. She explained that this was their
religious duty and not just a custom from the Arab world, as many Gambian women believe.
She also advised them to remove their artificial hair, since the ablution before prayer is
worthless when the water used to purify oneself cannot touch the scalp. The girls did not pay
much attention to the elderly woman and seemed to be more interested in consuming the
wedding cake. Nevertheless, the latter explained to me that it is highly important to practise
da‘wa during life-cycle rituals: ‘Through da‘wa people can change their attitude and celebrate
their ceremonies in a correct manner. Other people will copy their behaviour, and this is how
pure Islam spreads.’
At the end of the afternoon Aicha changed her simple black dress and hijab for a white
embroidered dress and matching veil. Unlike most of her unveiled relatives, she wore a Tshirt with sleeves under her dress in order not to show her skin. While Aicha was dressed
simply, her mother changed dresses several times that day made, each time wearing colourful
13
cloth and, instead of a veil, a head-tie.29 The difference in style of dressing between Aicha’s
husband and her male relatives was also striking. While the former was dressed in a plain,
short caftan and three-quarter length trousers, the latter wore long gowns. It is generally
believed by Tablighis that when a man wears trousers below the ankles, his outfit will become
dirty so that his prayers will not be answered, and his feet will burn in hell. 30
The Tablighi women explained to me that at night the ‘traditional’ part of the wedding
would start, during which the bride would be ritually washed and transferred to Lamin’s
compound, and marabouts would give advice to the couple. But before she was transferred to
her husband’s compound, we accompanied Aicha to her mother’s compound. Next to the
bride walked a griotte, a female singer who sang traditional songs in praise of the girl and her
family while playing an iron percussion rod. In the compound a few drummers and many
guests, both women and men, had gathered. The Tablighi men, however, did not appear since
they wanted to celebrate the programme in a ‘Sunna way’, which involved strict gender
segregation. Women danced, and canned drinks were distributed. A Tablighi woman
complained that the dancers were imitating people in hell ‘who jump because of the burning
charcoal under their feet’. Since it was time to pray, the Tablighi women had a good excuse to
leave the ‘sinful’ place and go home, since it is better for women, unlike men, to pray
individually at home rather than in a congregation.
Analysis of the case study
Traditionally, the life-cycle rituals associated with Islam, such as naming ceremonies,
circumcisions, weddings and funerals have been central occasions in the life of West
Africans, marking a transition from one state of being to another (e.g. Brand 2001; Janson
2002). Since new identities are forged in the process, such rituals are usually performed with
all due ceremony. Gambian Tablighis however react vehemently against this style of lifecycle ritual, which in Tablighi ideology is considered a sinful form of popular festival. 31
29
Covering the head with a head-tie is common for married women, but it does not
necessarily show they are Muslim.
30
A well-known Hadith reports that the Prophet was displeased with men wearing long
garments
(Sahih
Bukhari,
vol.
4,
book
56,
no.
692,
http://www.usc.edu/dept/MSA/reference/searchhadith.html).
31
The Tablighis’ emphasis on the proper celebration of life-cycle rituals is not unique to the
Tabligh Jama‘at, nor to The Gambia. According to Bowen’s study (1993: 3, 12) of the Gayo
highlands in Sumatra, the events that all Muslims see as part of a shared religious repertoire,
such as the performance of public ritual, are always matters of intense debate. In this the
14
Further, these are localized occasions, whereas they condemn practices associated with ethnocultural distinctiveness on the grounds of the universalism of the umma, the global Muslim
community.
The Tablighis with whom I worked interpreted their quest for ‘true Islam’ as the
celebration of life-course rituals according to the Sunna. Whereas most reformist Muslims
advocate the purification of Islam through Arabic literacy, claiming that knowledge of Arabic
and knowledge of Islam are inextricably bound up with each other (see Brenner 1993;
LeBlanc 2005), Gambian Tablighis are as a rule – being ‘English students’ – not literate in
Arabic. Instead of religious education in Arabic, they argue for purging Muslim society
through Islamic practice.
Celebrating the naming ceremony, the most common ceremony in Gambian society,
according to the Sunna implies that it is reduced to its essence: the baby’s hair is shaved, the
child is named and a ram is sacrificed. All the other activities that take place at the naming
ceremony are considered to be bid‘a, that is, deviations from the Prophet’s path. A Tablighi of
long standing said:
As we don’t know when we are going to die, we should prepare ourselves at all
times for the hereafter. Listening to music and dancing at naming ceremonies do not
help us to get ourselves prepared. Instead, they bring us closer to Satan.
His friend added that a naming ceremony should be celebrated early in the morning to prevent
griots, who accompanied Aicha to her parent’s compound and for whom those occasions are
their primary source of income, from attending them. Giving to these praise-singers is
regarded by the Jama‘at as excessive behaviour based on pride, while Tablighis believe it is
important for Muslims not to show off.
Circumcision, the other major turning-point in a young Gambian’s life, does not, in the
case of Tablighi boys, take place in the bush. This is not typical of Tablighis: many other
Muslims also send their sons to the hospital nowadays, where doctors are in charge of the
circumcision. But many of the boys who are circumcised in hospital later spend some time in
seclusion with their circumcised age-mates, and their coming out is accompanied with
drumming, dancing and gift-giving. The circumcision of Tablighi boys, on the other hand, is
Tabligh Jama‘at is somewhat similar to the ‘yan Izala, a Nigerien reformist movement
(Masquelier 1999: 232–233).
15
stripped of any ceremony. Unlike boys, girls are still circumcised in the bush or in a fenced
area at the outskirts of the village. However, Tablighi girls are often circumcised in hospital. 32
A third life-cycle ritual is the funeral. Normally, special ceremonies take place on the
third, seventh and fortieth day after death, during which people give alms to the deceased’s
relatives and sometimes even sacrifice a cow. According to the Tablighis, these ceremonies
have nothing to do with Islam and are just a waste of money; and they regard visiting the
graves in order to ask special favours from the deceased as a form of idolatry.
In line with the Tabligh Jama‘at’s stress on simplicity and austerity, the weddings of its
adherents are arranged at little cost (cf. Sikand 1999: 50). Two newly-weds argued that
overspending during a wedding is forbidden in Islam since ‘modesty is a virtue’. The
Tablighis, both men and women, claimed that the best bride-price for a Tablighi woman is a
Quran, a prayer mat, a kettle with which to perform ablutions and prayer beads. Such items
are, in general, not expensive. Because the value of the bride-price is of minor importance
compared to the marriage as an act that fulfils God’s commandments, Lamin could marry
without saving much money first. As such, Tablighis are able to marry young.33 The general
age of marriage of Mandinka men is about 30 years old, while many of the male Tablighis I
worked with married in their early 20s. Lamin was in his mid-20s, but he had been married,
and divorced, before. Marrying young was important for the Tablighis, who considered their
wedding a major turning-point in their search for piety. Similarly, the young reformist women
with whom Augis (2005: 310) worked in Dakar construed marriage as an action that furthered
their goals toward spiritual perfection. The Tablighis whom I interviewed indeed compared
marriage to a ‘spiritual journey’ that brings them closer to God and keeps them away from
unlawful, ‘dirty things’ (i.e., sex before marriage).
I had the impression that, in addition to marrying young, Tablighi men often marry only
one wife, while Islam allows them to marry up to four, provided that they can support them. A
newly married Tablighi explained to me: ‘Many Tablighis stick to one wife, like me, because
32
Under the influence of local and international NGOs, a debate is taking place in Gambian
society on whether female circumcision or FGM (Female Genital Manipulation) is enforced
by Islam or not. The majority of the Tablighis with whom I worked, both men and women,
believed that circumcision is Sunna. The issue at stake for them is not whether it should be
done, but how and where it is done.
33
In the social science literature on African youth cultures marriage, that is the opportunity to
establish one’s own household, is often seen as a transition from youth to adulthood (cf.
Cruise O’Brien 1996: 58–59). For the Gambian Tablighis marriage is no longer a
distinguishing feature of adulthood: what matters to them is expertise in missionary work.
16
they marry an educated girl, who is able to satisfy them.’ For many of the elderly Sufis
marrying more than one wife is a status symbol.
The case study illustrates that the Tablighis’ adaptation of the ritual domain brings about
conflict with their parents’ generation, which is often trained in the Sufi tradition. A dedicated
Tablighi told me that his wife’s family cried and was horrified when he decided to celebrate
his child’s naming ceremony modestly, as their opportunity to entertain on a lavish scale had
disappeared. It emerged that the Jama‘at’s tendency to withdraw from traditional ritual life
also involves a withdrawal from family life. As noted earlier, some youths go as far as to
break off relationships with their parents and rent a room in Serrekunda, close to Markaz.
Aicha and Lamin, for example, wanted to have their own place, where they could live in
peace; yet they were aware of belonging to a local community and, as such, at least Aicha,
could not escape from traditional praise-singing, drumming and some slices of wedding cake.
While the elders validate the ‘authenticity’ of their religious acts by tracing them back to
the ancestors’ ways, the Tablighis legitimize their beliefs and practices by contrasting them
with those of the older generation pertaining to the Sufi tradition (see also Masquelier 1999:
233). A leading figure in the Jama‘at said: ‘Allah is very much against the elders’ argument
“We are doing so and so because we observed our ancestors doing it”, since this is what the
unbelievers in Mecca said.’ By discarding the religion of the older generation as ‘cultural
Islam’, the young seek autonomy from their parents (see also LeBlanc 2005). The Tablighis
told me that when their parents reprimanded them for spending too much time in Markaz and
on missionary tours, they respond that they do not have to obey them since ‘they are neither
Allah nor the Prophet’. A young Tablighi argued: ‘We must profess Islam in a proper way,
because Allah is going to judge us on the Day of Judgement, not our fathers and mothers. I
care only about Allah and His Prophet.’
The older generation, in turn, finds it particularly hard to accept ‘children’ telling them
how they should profess their religion, as we have seen in the Introduction. The Tablighis’
attempts to perform the life-cycle rituals in a simple way are interpreted as signs of greediness
and anti-sociality. According to the elderly, Tablighis neglect their responsibilities towards
their families and the community at large (see also Metcalf 2000: 45). Aicha, Lamin and their
friends reacted to these attacks by saying that ‘true Islam’ does not allow flamboyant display
and extravagance. This indicates that life-course rituals have become fields for debates on
what a proper Muslim is and the attributes he/she should have.
17
Conclusion
Though still rather small and in a rudimentary state, the Tabligh Jama‘at in The Gambia
represents a new expression of religiosity in young Muslims, which can be seen as a form of
resistance against the traditional sources of religious authority, located in their parents’
generation and the marabouts. It is intriguing that a classic theme of social science literature
on youth culture – youth’s rebellion against the older generation – is couched here in religious
terms, through which Islam has become meaningful to youngsters as a form of identification
and an important medium of self-expression.
Unlike their peers, who spend most of their time drinking ataaya (a sickly sweet tea),
commenting on local, national and international news, or simply listening to hip-hop and
reggae music in so-called urban ‘ghettos’, the Tablighis have created for themselves an
Islamic youth culture in which they are no longer objects within the religious structures
ordained by Muslim elders but religious agents bringing about a ritual transformation in
Gambian society (see also Last 1992: 375). Just like the more secular youth cultures, this
religious youth culture is characterized by specific codes of conduct and dress. Tape-recorded
sermons, however, have replaced the function of music as a distinguishing feature of youth
culture. That the Tabligh Jama‘at offers Gambian youth a comprehensive lifestyle becomes
obvious when one observes, for example, the interior of their simply decorated rooms or
houses. By means of a variety of Islamic items, such as wall-hangings with Arabic
inscriptions, calendars from Mecca, and clocks in the form of the Kaaba, they inscribe a
religious identity on their physical space (see also D’Alisera 2001).
From the above-mentioned it can be concluded that Tablighi youth culture involves a
conscious assertion of a new set of Islamic values, as expressed in the redefinition of
established religious and social norms. Gambian Tablighis have ‘converted’ from the
culturally accepted forms of Islam toward new expressions of Islam that cultivate simplicity,
austerity, modesty, piety, a renewed moral order and a greater equality between the sexes and
age-groups (see also Loimeier 2005: 400–401).34 One way in which the youth’s new
expressions of Islam become visible is through their celebration of the life-cycle rituals
associated with Islam. Their performance of these rituals is diametrically opposed to that of
their parents’ generation. That the intergenerational conflict is expressed mainly through the
celebration of life-course rituals is obvious in the light of Launay’s claim (2004: 27, 105–106)
34
For an account of how Tablighi religiosity resulted in new gender roles, see Janson (2005:
467–475; forthcoming b).
18
that controversies about ritual are, in principle, about morality – that is, about how one should
act as a ‘true Muslim’.
Marabouts stand to lose the most, both economically and socially, from the Tablighis’
attempts at purifying Islam from local traditions. They may lose clients, both among those
who ask for their services as producers of charms but also those who invite them to preach at
life-cycle rituals. This fear explains the rather insulting tone of the elderly Sufi quoted in the
Introduction, who denied the Tablighis’ Islamic knowledge. Paradoxically, it is with their
knowledge of what they consider ‘true Islam’, based upon the Quran and Sunna, that
Tablighis enter upon a struggle against the elders trained in the Sufi tradition. Another
paradox is that by ‘returning’ to the ‘golden age’ of Islam, that is the time of the Prophet and
his Companions, the Tablighis seem to be the best equipped for a modern life characterized
by socio-economic hardship and political instability.
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21