Religion

This is a guest post by Jacob Zenn, an analyst of African Affairs for the Washington D.C.-based think tank, The Jamestown Foundation, and a contributor for the West Point CTC Sentinel. Ansaru is not a grassroots organization like Boko Haram, the more prominent Islamist militant group in Nigeria. Nonetheless, Ansaru has been more of a threat to Western interests than Boko Haram. Recent evidence also shows that the two groups may be merging. Boko Haram members are mostly Nigerians from Borno state, or Cameroonians, Nigeriens, and Chadians from the border region. They include many from the almajiri schools, or madrassas, of northern Nigeria. Ansaru members appear to be mostly foreign-trained Nigerian militants. They include founders Khalid al-Barnawi and Abu Muhammed, who operated and trained in Algeria with al-Qaeda in the Islamic Maghreb (AQIM). Nigerian militants have roots in Algeria dating back to at least 2007, and in Mauritania as far back as 2003. Al-Barnawi fought with AQIM kidnapping mastermind Mokhtar Belmokhtar in Mauritania in 2005. Other AQIM members reportedly trained Nigerians who later became Ansaru militants. Ansaru imported AQIM’s kidnapping operations to Nigeria, taking foreigners hostage in Kebbi, Kano (which was claimed by AQIM), Katsina, and Bauchi. They may also have coordinated the kidnapping of a French family of seven in northern Cameroon in February 2013, although it was claimed by Boko Haram. As Ansaru is not a grassroots group, it would not be surprising if many Nigerians did not know about them. However, according to Navanti, a strategic communications group in Washington, DC, a survey showed that a fairly large number of people in Kano, Kaduna, and Maiduguri–more than 80 percent–have heard of Ansaru (although some may have mistook the group for Ansar Dine of Mali). Articles about Ansaru operations also recently appeared in mainstream Nigerian newspapers, so Nigerians may have read about the group. Certainly, the United Kingdom took notice of Ansaru when, in November 2012, it proscribed Ansaru as a terrorist organization that is “anti-Nigerian government, anti-Western, and broadly aligned with al-Qaeda.” Nigerian President Goodluck Jonathan also so proscribed Ansaru and Boko Haram in June 2013. The U.S. government has designated al-Barnawi a “global terrorist” along with Abubakar Adam Kambar, who trained under al-Barnawi at an AQIM camp in Algeria. Ansaru’s amorphous nature is likely related to its lack of a geographical base beyond the "Lands of Black Africa." Some even question its existence. But if Ansaru does not exist, who can explain the spate of kidnappings of foreigners in Nigeria; Ansaru’s claims via jihadist forums (which have administrators to filter out fake messages); the British and Nigerian terrorist designations of Ansaru; and the Ansaru propaganda found at Mokhtar Belmokhtar’s base in Gao after he fled the city in February 2013? If the above analysis is correct, Ansaru took root in the Sahel a decade ago when few people in Nigeria were focused on events in that region, and AQIM’s ability to establish a presence as far south as Nigeria appeared remote. It highlights the importance of monitoring transnational linkages and regional events that seem relatively benign now, but years later can come home to roost. In addition, one reason for the difficulty in understanding Ansaru may be that it is unlike any group in Nigeria in the past because of its distinctly foreign element, which Maitatsine, MEND, and even Boko Haram never demonstrated to the same extent.

Outside observers have largely been dependent on Nigerian military statements for news about the operation of the state of emergency and Abuja’s struggle with the Islamist insurgencies lumped under the moniker of “Boko Haram.” There is little media presence in Borno, Yobe, or Adamawa, and cell phone service was largely suspended. Predictably the military is saying that its campaign is successful and that civilian casualties are few or non-existent. However, with respect to security service abuses, a different story is starting to leak out. On June 1, al-Jazeera posted a video of an interview with a Nigerian soldier who said he had seen 3,000 corpses, many of whom were women and children. Adam Nossiter published on June 6, a follow-up to his earlier New York Times piece on civilian casualties. On June 1, the Washington Post ran a long article under the headline “At frontline of Nigeria’s extremist fight, foes disappear while region’s challenges remain,” on the struggle in northern Nigeria that made reference to civilian casualties. Meanwhile, Secretary of State John Kerry issued a statement denouncing Boko Haram but calling on the security forces to show restraint and avoid civilian casualties. Up to now, military spokesmen have strenuously denied all reports that they have inflicted extensive civilian casualties. The Islamist fighters and the general population in northern Nigeria appear to be thoroughly co-mingled. “Boko Haram” operatives kill soldiers and police whenever they have the opportunity, which is hardly conducive to security service restraint. So, the struggle poses difficult challenges for the Abuja government. There is nothing new about security service brutality in Nigeria. Soldiers and police are poorly paid, under-trained, and under-equipped. In addition, official policy has always been to station military and police away from areas dominated by their particular ethnic group, region, and often, religion. In practice this means there is often little or no bond between those in the security services and those they are supposed to protect. As ethnic and religious differences harden and violence increases, security service personnel may show contempt for populations whom they do not know or understand. Nigeria’s security services clearly need reform, more easily said than done during a major insurrection. Further, for most of Nigeria’s post-independence history the central government has been a military one. Though there has been significant progress, a “culture” of security service subordination to civilian political leaders is still establishing itself. Security service abuses are almost certainly fueling popular support in the North for the Islamists. The dilemma is that security service reform takes time; and time seems to be running out.

This is a guest post by Tiffany Lynch, a senior policy analyst at the U.S. Commission on International Religious Freedom. The views expressed are her own and may or may not reflect the views of the Commission.  While speaking with reporters in Addis Ababa during the 50th Anniversary of the African Union, Secretary of State John Kerry said this about the ongoing conflict in Sudan’s Southern Kordofan and Blue Nile states: “In South Kordofan and Blue Nile you have people who for a long time have felt that they want their secular governance and their identity respected.” This is true, but not limited to just the south. Debates over secular or Islamic government have troubled the entire country of Sudan since its independence in 1956. For almost thirty years thereafter, a diverse coalition of movements resisted efforts to turn Sudan into an Islamic state, including South Sudanese, secular political parties, and other Muslims. These groups fought for democracy and equality of all citizens, regardless of religion. In September 1983, in an effort to remain in power, then-dictator Jafar al Numeri strengthened his ties with the growing Islamic movement and officially implemented sharia. Within months, sharia courts and judges were installed; hudood punishments were implemented for murder, thefts, and adultery, and for violating behavioral norms related to dress and alcohol; and apostasy became a capital offense. While Islamists welcomed the introduction of sharia, it helped fuel Sudan’s twenty-year north-south civil war when southern Christians and animists, as well other Sudanese nationwide, rebelled against the Islamization and Arabization of the country. The U.S. Commission on International Religious Freedom where I work documented these abuses and has continued to monitor the decline in rights in Sudan. The debate over secular or Islamic government continues to divide the country, even after the secession of the south. In anticipation of South Sudan’s 2011 secession (and a dramatic decline in the number of Christians living in Sudan), the ruling National Congress Party (NCP) thought this debate would be finished. In December 2010, President al-Bashir stated that Sudan’s new constitution would be based on sharia law and will not include specific provisions recognizing Sudan’s religious, ethnic, and linguistic diversity. This and subsequent similar statements by al-Bashir and other NCP officials continuously draw robust criticism from Sudanese opposition parties and women’s and other human rights groups who want a constitution with strong religious freedom protections. In January, more than thirty Sudanese political parties and civil society groups signed the “New Dawn” charter, which calls for separation of religion and state and full equality of all citizens regardless of religion. While some of the Islamic parties who signed the charter have since distanced themselves due to NCP pressure, the charter demonstrates how central the debate between Islamic versus secular governance is to Sudan’s future. And this debate will continue to dominate Sudanese politics as a new constitution is drafted. Who drafts that constitution and by what process will determine the role of sharia in Sudanese governance and the future of religious freedom.

Beginning in February 2009, a number of self-immolation incidents have occurred in the greater Tibetan region in China. Since then, at least 116 Tibetan monks and farmers have chosen to set themselves on fire. These acts are reminiscent of similar incidents that happened in South Vietnam 50 years ago. On June 11, 1963, Thich Quang Duc, a Vietnamese Buddhist monk burned himself to death in Saigon in protest of the government led by Ngo Dinh Diem.  Photos of this dramatic event were circulated across the world, becoming one of the most powerful images of the twentieth century that quickly undermined Diem’s legitimacy and eventually led to his assassination in November. However, the ongoing self-immolations in Tibet are quite different from those that occurred in Vietnam. In Tibet, most of the self-immolation cases appeared to be spontaneous and each act seemed to be separate from the others.  Perhaps as a result, these ultimate sacrifices have failed to convey any consistent or clear message to the outside world. Based on the data compiled by a well-known Tibetan writer and dissident, a Chinese dissident writer and scholar Wang Lixiong identified seven motives from the wills of 26 self-immolators; and the three top motives are “to serve as an act,” to offer their bodies to Dalai Lama, and to express courage and defend dignity.  These motives are themselves abstract and ambiguous, but they clearly suggest that self-immolation in Tibet was not always out of desperation or driven by the need to seek political independence or international attention.  Sun Yan, a professor at City University of New York, recently quoted two Tibetan scholars and argued that self-immolation was a local phenomenon subject to special regional and religious influences.  It was observed by one Tibetan scholar that those who burned themselves were only from four of the 3,600 temples in the greater Tibet region.  The other Tibetan scholar noted that most of the self-immolation acts and protests in recent years were associated with the Gulden Temple in Ngawa Autonomous Prefecture of western Sichuan Province. Unlike what had transpired in South Vietnam, the growing number of self-immolations in Tibet has, thus far, failed to generate significant international attention or cause a major shift in China’s Tibet policy.  The United States, while calling on China to permit Tibetans to “express grievances freely, publicly, peacefully and without fear of attribution,” urged Tibetans to “end the(ir) voluntary sacrifice.”  At the same time, the Chinese government has accused Dalai Lama of orchestrating the self-immolations, a charge he strongly rejects.  Instead of leading to China’s reexamination of its policy toward Tibetans, the protests might have given the hard-liners within the Party full ammunition to resist the reopening of the dialogue with Dalai Lama, and, in context of the rising nationalism, also silenced the domestic intellectuals and the general public for any rational and constructive discussion of the problem. If the self-immolations have failed to galvanize international support, why hasn’t Dalai Lama used his moral authority to issue a public statement asking for Tibetans to stop the practice? It is widely believed that self-immolation cases would drop significantly if he makes such a move.  But Dalai Lama is facing a major dilemma over this issue. As a voice of peace and reason, he privately does not support self-immolation. Indeed, from the outset, he was said to be skeptical of how effective this approach would be.  But he has refrained from calling for an end of self-immolation. While he is still the unrivaled spiritual leader among Tibetans, his Middle Way Approach to resolve the Tibetan issue—which does not accept the status quo or political independence—through nonviolent means is increasingly challenged by the young generation, as represented by the Tibetan Youth Congress, the largest NGO in the exile community.  They are increasingly frustrated and many have been radicalized by the lack of breakthrough in the negotiation between Dalai Lama’s representative and the Chinese central government that began in 2002.  Against this backdrop, self-immolation has been viewed by some as an extreme form of collective frustration and anger among the Tibetans.  Unless Dalai Lama is able to offer a viable alternative, his call for ending the practice would likely alienate his supporters, even draw backlash from the radical wing of his own constituency.  It’s because of this that he has expressed respect for the courage and motives of the self-immolators, despite his general disapproval of their behavior.  But allowing self-immolation to continue is in neither China’s nor Dalai Lama’s interest.  For Dalai Lama, it would undermine his moral authority and become a political liability in pursuing his Middle Way Approach.  For Beijing, failure to take the issue seriously might cultivate a sense of desperation among Tibetans, which in turn could lead to the escalation of violence against the Chinese rule (as has been found in the northwestern Xinjiang Uighur Autonomous Region).  It’s therefore in both sides’ interest to break the impasse by reopening the dialogue that was stalled in 2010.

This is a guest post by Jacob Zenn, a research analyst at The Jamestown Foundation, and Atta Barkindo, a Ph.D. candidate, SOAS, University of London. Since launching an insurgency in northern Nigeria in September 2010, Boko Haram leader Abu Shekau and his spokesmen have issued more than thirty statements to the Nigerian press and recorded a number of videos to claim attacks. In Shekau’s and other Boko Haram leaders’ pre-2010 sermons, the languages they use are Hausa and Arabic, not English. Shekau goes so far as to claim that the English language in northern Nigeria destroyed the traditional Arabic language education system for the region’s Muslims. We have reviewed Boko Haram sermons from before 2010, and our conclusions below are directly based on our interpretation of them in their original languages. We believe a study of these sermons is an important source for understanding the evolving Islamic insurgency in northern Nigeria that has been mostly overlooked, in part because their languages make them inaccessible to most Western observers. Boko Haram’s target audience for its propaganda has often been northern Nigerians, especially those who live in the border towns between Nigeria and neighboring Niger, Cameroon, and Chad. In Boko Haram videos and statements, Shekau and his spokesmen have tried to explain away–and even justify–the deaths of innocent Muslims in Boko Haram attacks. That Christians, the Nigerian government and security forces, and the United States, including President Obama, have become Boko Haram’s main enemies is clear in Boko Haram’s messaging. However, what is less understood about Boko Haram is the ideology that its three main leaders espoused before 2010, including late founder Muhammad Yusuf, Shekau, and the Cameroonian Muhammad (Mamman) Nur; who according to the Nigerian media and State Security Service masterminded the August 2011 bombing of the UN Headquarters in Abuja after training in Somalia. Before 2010, they were all salafist imams preaching mostly in the Ibn Taymiyya Mosque of Boko Haram’s base state of Borno in far northeastern Nigeria. Listening to the recordings of their speeches in Hausa and Kanuri helps us understand Boko Haram ideology at a time when its leaders were speaking candidly and not issuing the type of propaganda that the group has issued since launching the insurgency in September 2010. Here are the key characteristics of Yusuf, Shekau, and Nur’s sermons from 2009, or earlier. Yusuf: There is no doubt Yusuf organized and transformed the ideological basis of the emerging Boko Haram before his execution in 2009. His sermons suggest that there is a need for the spiritual and moral renewal of Muslims in Nigeria and that the current Muslim leadership has failed them. His statements show that he was a salafist and sympathizer of Osama bin Laden and the Taliban. He rejected secularism and western civilization, and he was committed to jihad to cleanse the Nigerian state of corruption and impunity, while also seeking to establish an independent Islamic state within Nigeria. Nur: Muhammad Nur appears to be more radical, aggressive, and internationally oriented than Yusuf. He believes Nigerian Muslims must counter secularism in Nigeria in every way possible, including jihad, and he speaks out against what he believes is the domination of the Muslim world by the West. Nur symbolizes the crossroads of Boko Haram from local salafism into international jihadism, which is consistent with the attack he allegedly masterminded on the UN (all other Boko Haram attacks up to that point were on Nigerian targets). Shekau: Shekau comes across as a very persuasive speaker, excellent in classical Arabic and well versed in Islamic scholarship. He could be regarded as the key thinker and ideological weaver of the group, especially where his sermons show a synthesis of local salafist preaching with calls for international jihadism and breaking down the Western and U.S.-led world order. He venerates hard line salafists from Ibn Taymiyya to Osama Bin Laden, and his sermons suggest that he is a political instrumentalist who manipulates religious memory to advance jihad in the modern day against the Nigerian government.

This is a guest post by Tiffany Lynch, a senior policy analyst at the U.S. Commission on International Religious Freedom. The views expressed are her own and may or may not reflect the views of the Commission. For almost two years, stories about violence in Nigeria have focused almost exclusively on Boko Haram’s attacks on churches and Christians; police stations and other government buildings; schools and politicians; and Muslim critics. Forgotten is Nigeria’s longer and more deadly history of religiously-related violence. Too much analysis of Boko Haram fails to take into account how Nigeria’s history of Muslim-Christian violence directly contributes to the Boko Haram phenomenon. Since 1999, more than fourteen thousand Nigerians in the Middle Belt and north have been killed, hundreds of thousands displaced, and thousands of churches, mosques, and other property destroyed in Muslim and Christian communal violence. However, lack of political will and jurisdictional disputes to prosecute perpetrators of the violence means that almost universally, those responsible for the violence remain free. In more than a decade, fewer than two hundred individuals have been prosecuted for their involvement in sectarian violence, despite available video and photographic evidence. Rather than prosecute, federal and state officials have repeatedly formed commissions of inquiry to review the causes of the violence and make recommendations to prevent further violence. But these recommendations are rarely implemented. This failure to prosecute has created a climate of impunity with dangerous consequences. The U.S. Commission on International Religious Freedom (USCIRF), where I serve as senior policy analyst, has drawn attention to this in our recently released Annual Report on Nigeria. USCIRF found that a lack of consequences for violence gives a green light for future depredations. An incident sparking Muslim-Christian violence can trigger retaliatory ricochet riots in other areas. Pour the gasoline of Boko Haram attacks onto this already burning fire and the consequences of religiously-related violence become even more dangerous. Boko Haram is using this culture of impunity as a recruitment tool—young Muslim men, angered by the government’s failure to address violence, respond to the call of Boko Haram leader Abubakar Shekau to attack Christians in “retaliation.” They are joining Boko Haram to attack churches and individual Christians. In fact, many of Boko Haram’s most deadly and prominent church service attacks in 2012 occurred in cities with problematic Muslim-Christian relations and histories of sectarian violence: Bauchi, Jos, and Kaduna. Policy recommendations to tackle Boko Haram have focused on addressing political and economic marginalization in the north and ending abuses by security forces. Yet, the U.S. and Nigerian governments should focus on ending impunity and addressing Nigeria’s problem of Muslim-Christian violence. Boko Haram is feeding off of and fueling Nigeria’s history of religious related violence, adding momentum to an already vicious cycle. The United States needs to press its ally to do more, so this cycle is interrupted and perpetrators are brought to justice.

This is a guest post by Jacob Zenn, an analyst of African Affairs for the Washington D.C. based think tank, The Jamestown Foundation, and a contributor for the West Point CTC Sentinel. Traditional Muslim leaders, the sultan of Sokoto in particular, may have an important role to play in countering the extremist views that attract recruits to Boko Haram, Ansaru, and other radical Islamist groups. The sultan may still command the respect of a  majority of Muslims in Nigeria. Even though Boko Haram and Ansaru reject the sultan’s authority and have tried to assassinate a number of traditional Muslim leaders, the sultan’s moderate message may make the operational environment less conducive for groups such as Boko Haram and Ansaru. The sultan and other traditional leaders could serve as a bulwark against Boko Haram and other extremists by reducing the potential Boko Haram recruiting pool. But, they are less likely to influence Boko Haram directly. Every effort should be made to prevent vulnerable groups from crossing the fine line between grievances–such as those about corruption (which in my visit to Borno was just called "government stealing")–and participation in Boko Haram’s violence. I believe the sultan and traditional leaders can connect with some of these key vulnerable groups before they’re lost. As for “vulnerable groups” who already joined Boko Haram, the sultan believes that an amnesty would be one way to incentivize them to rejoin society and abandon terrorism. The sultan has been criticized for this by southerners, who point out that the Niger Delta insurgents who received an amnesty in 2009 never targeted civilians as Boko Haram has done. I would highlight that the sultan has a lot to lose if Boko Haram becomes more powerful, and that he has likely been the leading voice calling on Muslims to bring “peace and stability” to Nigeria—in contrast to other imams who have even blamed the United States for Boko Haram’s violence. Moreover, there have been factions that have broken away from Boko Haram for its killing of civilians, so the sultan may have those members in mind when he speaks of an amnesty. As indicated in this chart, originally from the Africa Center for Strategic Studies, there is a “contested space” between the sultan and his ideology, and radical imams and their ideologies. The more the sultan’s influence increases among mainstream Muslims, the smaller the pool of potential recruits for Boko Haram will be. It becomes less likely that “vulnerable groups” will cross the line between being sympathetic, or even in contact, with Boko Haram to actual membership and participation in attacks. From this perspective, the crucial question is the extent to which the sultan retains the loyalty of his traditional followers in the aftermath of his support of President Goodluck Jonathan in the elections of 2011.

Looking at the insurgency now underway in Northern Nigeria, I think we have a terminology problem. The Nigerian government and the media tend to lump the insurgents together under the single moniker “Boko Haram.” Boko Haram certainly exists; it is made up of the followers of Mohammed Yusuf, who was murdered by the police in 2009. His movement is now led by Abubakar Shekau. It commits terrorist acts. But there are many other nodes of the insurrection that appear to be outside the influence or control of “Boko Haram;” lumping them together under a single moniker may obscure what is actually going on in northern Nigeria. Ansaru, for example, appears to be a particularly violent group that split off from Boko Haram. There are indications that it is based in Kano or Kaduna, rather than Maiduguri, which is the home territory of Mohammed Yusuf’s disciples. It may also have an ethnic Fulani character, rather than Boko Haram’s Kanuri origins. Other nodes are much more difficult to identify, and they may not be organized or function much beyond the village level. Some of the violence is clearly criminal and some may involve score settling or have a specific political dimension. Tip O’Neill famously said, “all politics is local.” And that includes insurrection and terrorism which, after all, are a form of politics or anti-politics. Perhaps we should use the term “Islamist” rather than “Boko Haram” to describe the insurrection in the North as a whole that uses an Islamic rhetoric, reserving “Boko Haram” for Yusuf’s followers.

British, Irish, and Australian bookmakers will place odds on anything. They are already looking at possible successors to Pope Benedict XVI.  The odds change by the minute, but the three favorites include two Africans: Cardinal Peter Kodwo Appiah Turkson of Ghana and Cardinal Francis Arinze of Nigeria. The bookies’ other favorite is Cardinal Marc Ouellet, of Canada. The British bookmaker William Hill gives Cardinal Arinze two-to-one odds. Coral, also British, gives Cardinal Arinze seven-to-four. An Australian and an Irish bookmaker (among others) makes Cardinal Ouellet the favorite for the moment. In the run-up to the papal conclave that selected Benedict XVI, Cardinal Arinze was frequently a bookmaker favorite. Now, at eighty years of age, he is ineligible to vote this time around–though his age does not preclude his election. Cardinal Turkson is sixty-four, Cardinal Ouellet is sixty-eight. Pope Benedict appointed over half of the College of Cardinals who will be voting on a successor. Already there is press commentary about the appropriateness of an African pope because of the explosive growth of Catholicism on the continent and its relative decline in Europe and North America. We can anticipate more such commentary in the run-up to the Papal Conclave convening. But, the majority of voting cardinals will be European.

The Roman Catholic Church has suspended its participation in meetings at the national level of the Christian Association of Nigeria (CAN). The Catholic bishops stated that “CAN is being dragged into partisan politics thereby compromising its ability to carry out its true role as conscience of the nation and the voice of the voiceless.” The current CAN president, Ayo Oritsejafor, has been an outspoken supporter of President Goodluck Jonathan and the governing Peoples Democratic Party. In reaction to the Catholic suspension of its participation, one CAN spokesman has said that they are “free to go.” He also accused them of “arrogance” and claimed they were angry because the presidency had moved to the Pentecostals. Radical Nigerian Islamic groups, labeled Boko Haram, have been attacking Christian churches in northern Nigeria for the past few years. CAN has been a national Christian voice in responding to those attacks. While some CAN rhetoric can be fierce, Christian reaction thus far has been largely free of reprisals against Muslims, especially in the predominately Christian parts of the country. The Catholic suspension is bound to weaken CAN; they were one of the founding pillars of the organization. The Roman Catholic Church is a powerhouse among Nigerian Christians. Its adherents number an estimated nineteen million, out of a population of perhaps 170 million. It is either the largest, or the second largest (after the Anglicans) Christian denomination in the country. There are three Nigerian cardinals, two of whom are under age eighty, and eligible to vote in the next papal election. Among other outspoken critics of the Nigerian political economy and human rights abuses have been John Onaiyekan, cardinal archbishop of Abuja and Matthew Kukah, the bishop of Sokoto. CAN has been the most important Christian umbrella organization in Nigeria. Founded in 1976, it originally included the mainline Protestant churches and the Roman Catholic Church. Subsequently, it grew to include Pentecostal and "African" churches. Until recently, its leadership has been dominated by the mainstream Protestants and the Catholics. However, its current president, Ayo Oritsejafor, senior pastor of the Word of Life Bible Church, comes from the Pentecostal tradition; the vice president, Archbishop Daniel Okoh, is president of the Organization of African Institutional Churches, the umbrella of “African churches.” CAN presidential elections are frequently contested. Oritsejafor defeated Archbishop Onaiyekan for the presidency in the last elections, in 2010. Onaiyekan in turn had defeated the Anglican primate in the election previous. Oritsejafor has been criticized for a lavish personal lifestyle, including the use of a private jet, a present from anonymous donors.

For the past five years, Robert Mugabe’s government has, in effect, persecuted the Anglican Church in Zimbabwe.  As I blogged previously in 2011, the ex-bishop of Harare, Nolbert Kunonga, a long-time Mugabe supporter, sought to take his diocese out of the Anglican Communion, ostensibly because of Anglican Communion support for gay rights.  The church thereupon deposed him and chose a new bishop, Chad Gandiya. But, Mugabe continued to support Kunonga and a pro-Mugabe judge gave him “custody” of church property pending a high court ruling. Kunonga also ended up with a confiscated, previously white-owned, farm. Pro-government goons over the past five years have, in effect, overseen the transfer of the cathedral in Harare, Anglican schools, orphanages, and parish churches to Kunonga and his supporters. The archbishop of Canterbury protested directly to Mugabe last year. The attack on the Anglican Church appeared to fit Mugabe policy of “Africanizing colonial institutions.” Even though the church is overwhelmingly black African in its membership, it was initially established in Zimbabwe by the British who built the elaborate cathedral in Harare.  At least some of Mugabe’s supporters thought that Anglicans disproportionately supported the opposition Movement for Democracy Change.  They also bitterly resented the criticism of the Mugabe regime by Anglicans worldwide. Hence it is a surprise that the High Court judges–all Mugabe political appointees–ruled against Kunonga and in favor of the Anglican Church shortly before Christmas.  The Anglicans have reoccupied their cathedral in Harare and numerous other churches and schools from which they had been evicted. The process was often accompanied by “cleansing ceremonies” that attracted large crowds, according to the press. To me, it is unclear why Mugabe has apparently reversed himself on the Anglican Church in Zimbabwe, especially amidst the current political debate over a new constitution, and in anticipation of the subsequent elections.

In Nigeria, it is often said that the Arab racism inoculates the Sahel against al-Qaeda. Now, there is a credible report of black African defections from al-Qaeda linked groups in northern Mali. Hicham Bilal, who claims to have been the only black battalion leader within the Movement for Unity and Jihad in West Africa (MUJAO), defected in November and returned to his native Niger. In a press interview he accused jihadist groups in Mali of racism. The leadership is “white,” while blacks are "cannon fodder," he said. He also complained that MUJAO included drug traffickers. MUJAO controls the city of Gao. According to another journalist, race may also play a role in Ansar Dine-controlled Timbuktu. Its leadership is “white,” from Algeria and Mauritania. Racial tensions within the northern Malian radical jihadist groups could become a source of weakness, perhaps providing diplomatic opportunities once there is a credible government in Bamako. If, however, the UN Security Council votes on December 20, 2012, to approve the deployment of a force in northern Mali put together by the Economic Community of West African States (ECOWAS), the jihadist groups may pull together. The UN Security Council resolution, sponsored by France, is widely supported in West Africa, and the New York Times expects the vote in favor to be unanimous. The resolution includes provision for Western training and equipment for the Malian army. However, it may be a long time before intervention actually takes place. It is foreseen that the ECOWAS force would number some 3,300, but it is not clear where that number of troops will come from. In the past, Nigeria was the powerhouse of West Africa and would supply a large percentage of the troops for multinational forces. The Nigerian military, however, is currently stretched thin with the Boko Haram insurgency in northern Nigeria.

In this book, CFR Adjunct Senior Fellow Noah Feldman provides a sweeping history of the traditional Islamic constitution—its noble beginnings, its downfall, and the renewed promise it could hold for Muslims and Westerners alike. Teaching notes by the author.