Religion

Shinto priests walk in a line to attend a ritual to usher in the upcoming New Year at the Meiji Shrine in Tokyo, Japan on December 31, 2016 (REUTERS/Kim Kyung-Hoon).  

Last week, India’s ruling Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP) received a landslide victory in the state assembly elections of Uttar Pradesh (UP), India’s most populous state, and arguably one of the country’s most politically important arenas. The day after the election results, Prime Minister Narendra Modi delivered a celebratory speech at the party headquarters in New Delhi, and heralded the dawn of a “New India.” As I wrote last week, his New India remarks, along with a campaign unfurled to encourage citizen involvement, pointed to a focus on jobs, development, anti-corruption, “Clean India,” protecting nature, peace, unity, and goodwill, among other priorities. Modi has expended enormous political capital in domestic and foreign policy highlighting the urgency of India’s development, and during his nearly three years in government has initiated countless initiatives geared toward providing better sanitation and infrastructure for the whole country, encouraging more foreign direct investment, enticing manufacturers to set up in India, calling for “women-led development,” plumping for greater innovation, and positioning India as a new “leading power” on the world stage. These emphases can be summed up in his party’s national campaign slogan, sab ka saath, sab ka vikaas—everyone together, development for all. The BJP conducted their campaign in UP without naming a chief minister candidate for the state. Over the weekend, the chief minister was selected, and let’s just say his claim to fame to date has not been development. Instead, Yogi Adityanath, the new chief minister of UP, is a popular, five-time member of parliament who leads a Hindu religious order in Gorakhpur, in the eastern part of the state. Adityanath has attained fame in India due to his oratory, nearly always described as “fiery,” with him frequently described as a “firebrand” leader of Hindutva, or Hindu nationalism. I will refrain from enumerating some of the many speeches he has given over the years that illustrate his antipathy for Muslims. You can learn more about his public remarks here, and about the pending criminal charges against him here. The point is that he will now be responsible for overseeing the development of this critically important state, one with enormous problems and enormous needs, and one in which Hindu-Muslim tensions continue to be a concern. Indian parties do not choose their politicians with a view to what the world might conclude, but there is no denying the signal this pick sends: with a huge mandate, the BJP has decided to lead with the face of religious nationalism—not the forward-looking, twenty-first century face of the New India—in their most important state. Some Indian commentators have used the phrase “the mask has come off” or “bait and switch” to describe this abrupt shift from a development-focused platform. I hope this does not signal that UP will become enmeshed in religious conflict, unable to advance its development agenda. Adityanath supporters will say he deserves a chance to prove himself. He does, but his past inflammatory remarks—the reason for his national notoriety—are surely cause for concern. He has earned high marks for asking questions in parliament, and for his strong anti-corruption stance. As a member of parliament, his legislative focus has been on matters such as cow protection, renaming India as “Bharat,” calling for a uniform civil code, banning religious conversion, and adding a court bench in his city. After his swearing-in as UP’s new chief minister, he said he would work to eliminate goondaraaj, or thug rule, from the state, which has serious law and order problems, and that he would focus on development for all, as Modi has repeatedly emphasized. His first acts as chief minister have been to seek a declaration of assets from state government ministers, and to end the use of red lights on official government vehicles, a step toward ending what many describe as the “VVIP culture” of special privileges for those in office. The Modi government has two years left in office, and despite having initiated many development programs, has a long way to go to see them fulfilled. Let’s hope the new leader of India’s largest state adjusts his perspective and his public rhetoric to befit the new office he holds, one charged with the welfare of more than 200 million people, of which some nineteen percent are Muslim. All citizens of UP, no matter their religion, deserve a chief minister who will seek development for all, regardless of their background. Follow me on Twitter: @AyresAlyssa. Or like me on Facebook (fb.me/ayresalyssa) or Instagram (instagr.am/ayresalyssa).

Reading selections for the weekend of March 3, 2017.

This is a guest post by Alex Thurston. Alex is the author of  Salafism in Nigeria: Islam, Preaching, and Politics, and is an assistant professor at Georgetown University’s Walsh School of Foreign Service. Alex was an international affairs fellow at the Council on Foreign Relations from 2013-2014. Internationally, the jihadist sect Boko Haram has become the most famous manifestation of Salafism in Nigeria. Yet Boko Haram is merely a fringe offshoot of a much larger Salafi movement in the northern part of the country. Mainstream Nigerian Salafis often use strident and confrontational rhetoric toward other Muslims and toward Nigerian Christians, but they are not jihadists: mainstream Salafis do not generally engage in violence, they do not advocate the overthrow of the secular state, and they do not reject Western-style educational institutions. In my recent book, I argue that the mainstream Salafi movement has had a much larger impact on shaping how northern Nigerian Muslims think about Islam than Boko Haram has, or will have. Salafis are Sunni Muslims who describe Salafism as an “approach” – in their eyes, the only correct approach – to being Muslim. This approach involves a literalist creed and a conviction that every issue in contemporary human life can be resolved by consulting and applying the Qur’an, the Sunna (model or tradition) of the Prophet Muhammad, and the example of the first three generations of Muslims (the salaf). Salafis are hostile to the Shia, to Sufism (a mystical approach to Islam), and to various theological sects. For Salafis, Salafism represents the pristine Islam of the early community, but historians increasingly argue that what we call Salafism took its present shape in the twentieth century when Saudi Arabian Wahhabism intersected with various Islamic currents from Egypt, India, and elsewhere. Salafism is a global movement, but it is loosely organized. Saudi Arabia is a stronghold of Salafism, but Saudi Arabian leaders and scholars do not control everything that other Salafis do. Most Salafis around the world subscribe to what is sometimes called “purist,” “scholarly,” or – misleadingly – “quietist” Salafism. A minority, albeit a deadly and highly visible minority, of Salafis are “Salafi-jihadis,” who embrace jihadism and try to impose Salafism by force. Boko Haram, the self-proclaimed Islamic State, and al-Qaeda are Salafi-jihadis. Salafism in northern Nigeria emerged in the 1960s and 1970s with Abubakar Gumi (1924-1992), who served as the north’s top Islamic judge from 1962-1966 and afterwards became a prominent radio preacher. Influenced by his time in British colonial schools, where he came to view most local northern Nigerian scholars as backward, Gumi became an outspoken opponent of Sufism. In 1978, followers of Gumi formed the Society for the Removal of Heretical Innovation and the Establishment of the Sunna, better known as Izala (Arabic for “removing”). Izala became a powerful force for disseminating anti-Sufism. Yet there were tensions within Izala, particularly after Gumi died. In the 1990s, Izala split into two main factions, based respectively in Kaduna and Jos. Meanwhile, young Izala preachers who had studied at the Islamic University of Medina in Saudi Arabia were returning home. Some graduates of Medina were dissatisfied with Izala: they considered it parochial and insufficiently attuned to global Salafi scholarship. In the 1990s, some Medina graduates began to present themselves as independent – as ahl al-sunna wa-l-jama‘a, “the people of the Sunna and the community,” a synonym for Sunni Muslims. These Medina graduates wanted people to think of them not as mere Izala members but as the representatives of a pure kind of Sunni Islam. The most prominent such Medina graduate was Ja‘far Adam (1961/2-2007), who rose from poor origins to become the most famous Salafi preacher in northern Nigeria after Gumi. After returning from Medina in 1993, Adam promoted a style of Salafism that was both scholarly and political. Adam’s involvement in politics grew after northern Nigerian states began implementing “full sharia” in 1999. Adam served in government in Kano State, although he resigned in disgust in 2005, claiming that sharia was not being properly implemented. Adam was assassinated in 2007, and the crime remains unsolved. When Adam’s name is heard in the United States, it is often mentioned in connection to his mentorship of – and then estrangement from – Muhammad Yusuf (1970-2009), the founder of Boko Haram. Adam’s conflicts with Yusuf were a watershed moment for Salafism in northern Nigeria. Yusuf took advantage of the networks and preaching style that Adam had developed. Yusuf sought to bend those resources to his project of denouncing Western-style education and secular government. Adam fought back by attacking Yusuf’s scholarly credentials and personal integrity. Adam also made the case for why preaching was better than armed jihad, and why Western-style education could benefit the Muslim community. But the story of mainstream Salafism in northern Nigeria does not end with, or revolve around, the conflicts between Adam and Yusuf, or between mainstream Salafism and Boko Haram. Looking beyond Boko Haram, one finds that mainstream Salafis wield tremendous influence today. Unlike in Egypt, Tunisia, and elsewhere, Nigeria’s Salafis have not formed a political party of their own. But many of them are deeply involved in politics. They sometimes publicly support candidates for office (one can even find Salafis on opposite sides of elections in the same state). Some of them hold government positions. The most prominent such figure is Aminu Daurawa, who has been Commander General of the Hisbah, a kind of morality police, in Kano State since 2011. Under Daurawa, one signature Hisbah initiative has been mass weddings for widows and divorcees – a project that blends social conservatism (marrying off the unmarried) with a form of progressivism (caring for the vulnerable). As that example shows, Salafi politics are hard to put on a “left-to-right” spectrum. Other preachers remain outside of government and do not endorse candidates. Nevertheless, some preachers intervene in politics by offering “advice” to politicians. Such advice is not always heeded. For example, in 2015, Ahmad Gumi (Abubakar Gumi’s son) sought unsuccessfully to discourage current President Muhammadu Buhari from seeking the presidency. But Salafis can make headlines with their advice, whether or not is it followed. For its part, Izala remains a strong force. The organization’s Jos and Kaduna branches formally reunited in 2011 under the leadership of Sani Yahya Jingir, who is – with Abdullahi Bala Lau, the National Chairman – a major figure in northern Nigerian Salafism. Izala reaches mass audiences through events such as its annual “Wa’azin Kasa (National Preaching),” where Izala preachers give lectures in cities throughout Nigeria and neighboring countries. Izala now works closely with the graduates of Medina and many other independent Salafi preachers, projecting a considerable degree of unity in the face of challengers, including the challenge of Boko Haram. Salafis are also prominent in media. Some Salafi preachers have radio and television shows. The sermons and lectures of virtually every major Salafi leader circulate widely as cassettes and MP3 files, and followers can now listen to MP3 files on their phones. Salafis are increasingly savvy about using the internet to disseminate their messages – Facebook and YouTube are key media for them. Use of Twitter is growing as well. Salafi blogs have also appeared in recent years, featuring audio and video of Salafi preaching, original blog entries and fatwas, biographies of Salafi shaykhs, and .pdf files of books in Hausa, English, and Arabic. All of this Salafi activism in politics, preaching, and media adds up to a major vehicle for social and religious change. One of the biggest effects of Salafism, in northern Nigeria and around the world, is a change in how Muslims talk about authority and debate religious questions. The question “What is your evidence?” is heard more and more. Often, the only kind of evidence a questioner accepts is texts from the Qur’an and the collected statements and deeds of the Prophet Muhammed. This kind of question does not befuddle Sufis and other non-Salafis – Sufis in particular often have a deep tradition of immersion in scholarship and scripture, and can often answer the Salafis verse for verse, text for text – but it does mean that intra-Muslim debates occur more than before on Salafis’ terms. Other forms of authority, such as charisma, hereditary, scholarly pedigrees, and even university degrees, are increasingly open to challenge. Boko Haram will, one day, fade away. But the spread of Salafism is a longer-term phenomenon. Salafism is reshaping how many Muslims – Salafis and non-Salafis – think about Islam. And that represents an even deeper change for northern Nigeria than does Boko Haram’s violence.

Nigerians like to say that they are the happiest people in the world and the most religious. Public events commonly open and close with prayer. Causation of events, big or small is routinely ascribed to the divine. The population appears to be more-or-less evenly divided between Christians and Muslims. Among Christians, estimates are more than half of its adherents are Anglicans and Roman Catholics. But, there are a large number of other denominations independent of any of the more common faith traditions. They are particularly associated with televangelism and mega churches. TB Joshua, born in 1963, is one of the most successful of the independent preachers. His place of worship, The Synagogue, Church of All nations, attracts thousands of worshippers each Sunday. His Emmanuel TV station, based in Lagos, may be Nigeria’s largest in terms of viewers. Forbes claims he is the “third richest” pastor in Nigeria, which he denies. (Estimates of his personal wealth are in the range of ten to fifteen million U.S. dollars.) He regularly claims to work healing miracles and to prophesize. He is also regularly denounced by other Christian leaders from across the denominational spectrum, including pentecostals whom he sometimes superficially resembles. Among his prophesies was that Hillary Clinton would win the 2016 U.S. presidential election, as did much of the Nigerian media. Posted prominently on his website, Joshua’s prophesy was withdrawn shortly after the elections but later it was reinstated. In response to mocking criticism, Joshua is now arguing that his prophesy was correct–that Hillary Clinton won the most votes and therefore “won” the election. Joshua and his seemingly failed Clinton prophesy has been a focus of Nigerian media attention, especially in the south. It is an illustration of the importance that religion, and religiosity, plays in public life. But, the episode should not be taken as a rejection of the legitimacy of Donald Trump’s presidency because it will be achieved by the vote of the electoral college. For some or many Nigerians, Trump’s presidency, like much else, reflects the will of God.