by Steve Howard
Material like this, quotes from Ustadh Mahmoud—the sound bites of an earlier era—were an important part of the Republican identity. Brothers and sisters committed them to memory and published them in books and pamphlets to be sold on Sudan’s streets as well as turned into posters to decorate their homes. But clearly the message did not reach very far into the wider Sudan society, drowned out by rumor, innuendo. and suspicion of unconventional “holy men.” I am struck by what we have missed in overlooking small-scale, peaceful social movements and also struck by the circuitous ways in which such phenomena grab our attention once again.
The obstacle for the multitudes who may have overlooked what Ustadh Mahmoud and his followers were saying was the difficulty in penetrating the deep Republican message. It is also true that peace-loving, women-centric, and progressive movements don’t attract much financial backing anywhere in the world. The response to John Voll above was perhaps meant as an invitation to possibility, expressed in English, rather than a summary of a complex theology. This is why the small-scale study group approach of the brotherhood—the intense learning exercises and opportunities they set up for themselves—yielded great solidarity, but you had to know the method.
I know that I have neglected my own obligations in spreading the good news of this movement. My excuse is clearly that I have never been completely confident that I understood it myself or understood enough to communicate its depth to others. I did understand that the Republicans wanted to spread their message not because they felt it superior, but rather, because their message promoted the oneness, a universal coming together across humankind. The irony is that thirty years earlier Omer El Garrai, known for his public speaking on behalf of the movement and later my Ohio PhD student, had given me a lot to think about when he jabbed me with a comment at a Republican farewell event for me. While the group was engaged in a Republican hymn, Omer leaned over to me and said in a low voice, “You just joined us in order to study us.”
While at that moment I had found his comment painful in that I had felt that I had been participating sincerely and with more and more enthusiasm over the previous months, I have often wondered if I really would have understood Ustadh Mahmoud’s work better if I had been studying it in an academic manner. What I do understand now is that my intention in membership with the Republican Brotherhood—a spiritual quest in solidarity with an African people—is the source of my inability today to gaze at Africans as the exotic “other.” I work hard to get this stance across to my own students, particularly when teaching research methodologies. And this is my stance in my work to promote the study of Africa, its peoples, and languages from what is really an “Afro-centric” perspective, as means to learn about African ways to organize society that may be useful in the West. I always look at myself as a learner, not that I am the master of all knowledge of this enormous continent. My ability to understand Africa from this perspective I feel is—as much as anything—a tribute to the Republican brothers and sisters welcoming me into their community as nothing more than a fellow human being who wanted to join their quest.
The empty lot next to Ustadh Mahmoud’s house in Omdurman, where the group held their evening meetings, was an apt metaphor for the Republicans’ openness. They did not perceive any boundaries to the expansive ideology that they discussed in that empty lot and studied so carefully. Passersby were most welcome to stop and listen, or inquire.
As a teacher, the methodology proposed in Republican practice was attractive to me, an early lure to my joining the movement. The methodology has provided a significant context for me in which to think about what has happened to Sudan and this community since my life with them in the early 1980s, as well as a means to teach about Africa and the possibilities of social change. The methodology is the path to freedom, and it takes hard work. That hard work promotes remarkable solidarity.
On a 2006 visit to Sudan I spent a few days in Rufa’a with my friend and teacher, Khalid El Haj. He had invited a group of about eight people to his house for breakfast, commemorating the publication of his book, Peace in Islam. Most of the people sitting around Khalid’s saloon had assisted in the publication process in some way. I remember the conversation that ensued as one of the most intensely intellectual experiences of my life because of the quality and equality of participation that fueled the discussion.
As a social scientist who has worked across Africa, I learned that what we can know best in a community is the agenda that people have for their own progress, and the questions that they have about how to make that progress. Ideally, this agenda presents itself naturally without probing or prodding; it emerges in conversation and listening. I was in the odd space of being dedicated to the Republican methodology and its practices while also trying to learn more about it—in effect, a researcher. It was my background, my history with these people that gave me the privilege of participating in Khalid’s breakfast meeting and witnessing an emergent process.
Khalid El Haj was a leader of the movement who had also authored several of its important books. He joined the Republicans as a student in the 1960s. Because Rufa’a was Ustadh Mahmoud’s hometown, Khalid had grown up with Republican thinking in his neighborhood and in close proximity to neighbors and family members who belonged to an array of Sufi sects. Khalid had been a patient teacher with me from the beginning of our friendship, helping me understand both big picture and nuance in Ustadh Mahmoud’s perspective. The simple room in which this meeting was held contained three beds that functioned as sofas during the day, a wooden table, and a couple of wardrobes for books and clothing. There was a large photograph of Ustadh Mahmoud on the wall. Over the course of three hours, Khalid presented an informal lecture—guided by questions from his audience. His focus as he talked was on the intellectual process of a Republican brother, influenced, as he said, by Mahmoud Mohamed Taha, but not directed by him. But he also said, “Academic research is boring.”
I wasn’t wounded to the quick by that statement; I understood that he meant there was no room for anything called “objectivity” in this complicated world we were trying to understand. Everything had an unshakable point of view. You study the situation carefully and apprentice yourself to those whose vision you trust, who seemed to have the vision of human perfection in sight. I marveled at how this represented the seamlessness of oneness, that if the goal was to achieve this universal peace, then of course we all had to get on the same page. In the case of this breakfast session, all of us were already on that page, just looking for guidance in pronunciation or grammar, to extend the metaphor. The participants—host and guests—were all entirely engaged in the process of learning from one another.
The pilgrimage to oneness, what Ustadh Mahmoud called “this orbit of self-realization,” could not be accomplished alone—at least initially. A supportive crowd was needed to keep you headed in the right direction and to serve as a buffer from the many dangers scattered along the path. The unifying experience is like prayer, which is also considered to be the best way to get ready for and to practice the focus needed to attain oneness. This is why Ustadh Khalid’s small audience was energized and utterly focused that morning in Rufa’a. The concerns and aspirations of the audience were in complete alignment with those of the presenter; no outsider was mining a community for data. Khalid El Haj provided examples from the life and work of Ustadh Mahmoud and from his own encounter with that life. We all as participants could relate to the striving for mezan, a balance between this modern world and the tools of faith that equipped us for it, which Khalid’s stories illustrated.
Since 1982 I have been a struggling student in an open classroom of lovers of freedom. My teachers have been my brothers and sisters, all of them always ready to push me to the next level. The unity of purpose among the Republicans has suffered blows throughout the movement’s history, blows which may have dampened the spirits of some. But in no way does that diminish our need to pay attention to open and democratic initiatives in today’s Muslim world. Go
and look for them in peace.
Appendix
“Either This or the Flood”
This leaflet, printed in Arabic and English, was distributed in the Khartoum area in December 1984 and resulted in the arrests of five of the Republican Brothers, including Mahmoud Mohamed Taha.
Notes
Chapter 1: Unity
1. Mahmoud Mohamed Taha, Religion and Social Development (Omdurman: Republican Brotherhood, 1976).
2. Tim Niblock, Class and Power in Sudan (Albany: State University of New York Press, 1987), 126.
3. Abdullahi An-Na’im, “Resume of the Life of Mahmoud Mohamed Taha” (1983). This and other details of Mahmoud Mohamed Taha’s early life are from a typescript prepared by An-Na’im while in prison. The document was meant for circulation to human rights groups during the detention of Republican brothers and sisters, including Mahmoud Mohamed Taha.
4. Khalid El Haj, “The Republican Party” (1996), typescript in Arabic, translation by Asma AbdelHalim.
5. Mahmoud Mohamed Taha, Questions and Answers, 2nd ed. (Omdurman, 1971), 10.
6. Khalid El Haj, “Republican Party.”
7. Abdullahi Ahmed An-Na’im, Translator’s Introduction to Mahmoud Mohamed Taha, The Second Message of Islam (Syracuse, NY: Syracuse University Press, 1987), 3.
8. SAD 525/11/12 8 October, 1946, by Hancock, #102, Sudan Archive, Durham University.
9. Mohamed Mahmoud, “Mahmud Mohamed Taha and the Rise and Demise of the Jumhouri Movement,” New Political Science 23, no. 1 (2001): 72.
10. Mahmoud Mohamed Taha, The Second Message of Islam, trans. Abdullahi Ahmed An-Na’im (Syracuse, NY: Syracuse University Press, 1987), dedication page.
11. Awad al-Sid al-Karsani, “Beyond Sufism: the Case of Millennial Islam in the Sudan,” in Muslim Identity and Social Change in Sub-Saharan Africa, ed. Louis Brenner (Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1993), 135.
12. Richard Werbner, “Smoke from the Barrel of a Gun: Postwars of the Dead, Memory and Reinscription in Zimbabwe,” in his Memory and the Postcolony: African Anthropology and the Critique of Power (London: Zed Books, 1998), 71–102.
13. Abdullahi An-Na’im, “Mahmoud Mohamed Taha and the Crisis in Islamic Constitutional Law Reform” (typescript, 1986), 30.
Chapter 2: The Path of the Prophet
1. Mahmoud Mohamed Taha, The Second Message of Islam, trans. Abdullahi Ahmed An-Na’im (Syracuse, NY: Syracuse University Press, 1987), 39.
2. Ibid., 61.
3. Daniel Martin Varisco, Islam Obscured (New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2005), 152.
4. Taha, Second Message of Islam, 126.
5. Ibid., 138.
6. Ibid., 134.
7. Ibid., 137.
8. Ibid., 63.
Chapter 4: A Women’s Movement
1. Interview with Mahmoud Mohamed Taha, 1970s, unpublished in Arabic.
2. Mahmoud Mohamed Taha, The Second Message of Islam, trans. Abdullahi Ahmed An-Na’im (Syracuse, NY: Syracuse University Press, 1987), 56.
3. Ibid., 140.
4. Taha, Reform and Development of the Islamic Personal Law Shari’a, trans. Einar Berg (Oslo, 1971), 82–83.
5. Ibid., 107.
6. Sudan’s first female political prisoners were Sudan Communist Party members Fatima Ahmed and Niemat Malik among others, personal communication, Asma AbdelHalim, 2003.
7. Interview with Asma Mahmoud, Oxford, Ohio, 1996.
8. Letter from Mahmoud Mohamed Taha to Cultural Secretary, Khartoum University Student Union, September 17, 1979 (in Arabic).
9. Taha, Reform and Development of the Islamic Personal Law, 99.
10. Ibid., 99–100.
11. Taha, Second Message of Islam, 153.
12. Taha, Reform and Development of the Islamic Personal Law, 131.
13. Taha, Second Message of Islam, 140–41.
14. Ibid., 142.
Chapter 6: A Modern Muslim
1. Fiona Ross, Bearing Witness: Women and the Truth and Reconciliation Commission (London: Pluto, 2003), 3.
Glossary of Sudanese Arabic Terms
(N.B. The glossary reflects Sudan dialect of Arabic pronunciation: ‘dh’ is pronounced as ‘z’ in English; the a’ represents the Arabic letter “ein,” pronounced as a nasal a.)
abid slave
adhan call to prayer
adam good manners
al-akh brother
al-akhira the Hereafter
al-duniya this world
al-giwama protection of women by men; a Qur’an concept
al-jama the group
al-jelsa sabahiya early morning meeting
Allah aa’lim only God knows
al-mu’amalat social transactions or good acts
al-mudhaf divine document (a name for Qur’an)
al-mughrib sunset prayer
al-muh’minun the believers
al-towhid monotheism
am uncle
angareb traditional bed of wood and woven sisal mat
arage long shirt
aragi home-brewed gin
arkan pillars (of faith)
a-sadiq, al-muhubba, wa al-ikhlas truth, love, and charity
asida sorghum or millet porridge
asha supper
asaya sticks
asur late afternoon
awra the parts of a woman’s body that should remain hidden from view
azaba single men, bachelors
azraq dark blue
ba’ati a restless dead person
baraka blessing
batin hidden
berenda veranda
beyt-al-akhwan brothers’ house
beyt-al-ukhwat sisters’ house
beyt azaba bachelors’ quarters
bida innovation after the time of the Prophet
binaati mu’alafaati “my daughters (women followers) are my writings”
bismillah “in the name of God”
buhur incense
butana plain
darwish follower of a traditional Sufi master
dawa mission for proselytizing
dhikir remembrance/chanting the name of God
dhikir bidun fikr remembering without much reflection
din religion
fatwa legalistic opinion
fatur breakfast
fekki religious mystic
fikr ideology
fikr jumhuriya the Republican Brothers’ ideology
foul long-simmered fava beans
gada wooden bowl
ghafla inattention/leisure
ghar cave
gowm community or group
giyam a-leyl night prayer
hamla campaign
haraka-t-al-mar’a women’s movement
hijira migration
housh courtyard
housh juwa get inside the prayer
hudur intense concentration in prayer
ibada obligatory religious worship practice
ibreeks containers for ablutions
inshad hymns
inshad erfani spiritual poetry
ja’alia community living abroad
jalous mud construction material
jelsa meeting, lit., “sitting”
jehaz al-amn al gowmi national security police
jenaza shrouded remains
Jihad
jirjir watercress
kaffir unbeliever
karkedeh drink made from dried hibiscus petals
khabir ajanabi “foreign expert”
khalwa place of retreat/meditation
khawaja foreigner/Westerner
kisra bread
la ikrah f’il din “no compulsion in religion”
lateef gentle, nice, kind, friendly, graceful
mafi din bidun angeen “no religion without batter” (i.e., food)
mafi mushkila “no problem”
marara organ meat from a sheep
maulana religious teacher
maseed a Sufi school for Qur’an study
&nbs
p; maseera procession
mazoun religious official presiding over marriage
medeh traditional Sufi ode
merisa sorghum beer, mildly alcoholic
mezan balance
mislaya prayer rugs
miya-fi-miya 100 percent
mulah okra-based sauce
munshid (pl. munshidiin) one who has mastered singing of odes
mushtageen “You’ve been missed.”
mustajid newcomer
omda mayor
qaseeda (pl. qasaid) ode
qibla direction of prayer (i.e., facing Mecca)
qubba (pl. qubbab) domed tomb of holy man
raka’a (pl. rukkat) night prayer
rida capital offense of apostasy
rukuba lean-to porch
rukun (pl. arkaan) lit., “corner,” metaphor for public debate
sahur pre-dawn Ramadan meal
salaam peace
salat-a-subuh morning prayer
salat-a-jenaza funeral prayer over the deceased
saloon from “salon,” a parlor
samadi total fast from eating and drinking
shahada “witness,” the basic Islamic belief
sharia Islamic law
sheikh head of a Sufi group, lit., “chief”
shirik idolatry
sibha carved prayer beads
silsila the chain of religious history or knowledge
simaya infant naming ceremony
sirwaal baggy pants
subuh predawn prayer
sunna personal practice (of the Prophet)
talmith pupil (apprentice)
tawhid monotheism, unity
tajweed recitation
tariqa Sufi sect (lit., approach, method)
