Intergovernmental Authority on Development (IGAD) is a regional organization with institutional experience in active conflict mediation, accumulated over many years. The emerging conflict in Ethiopia's northern region of Tigray – and specifically the fact that the conflict involved Ethiopia, considered to be one of the most significant powers in East Africa and a prominent member of IGAD – posed new challenges to the organization's mediation efforts. As such, it is important to ask what the role of regional mediation is, or how effective can such mediation be when a significant regional power is involved in an intrastate conflict with major potential regional implications. This article addresses this question considering the conflict that has engulfed Ethiopia's northern region of Tigray since November 2020 and argues that IGAD's late response and hesitant stand on its role as mediator in this conflict, which was related to Ethiopia's status in the organization and the region, was a lesson that IGAD should learn regarding its involvement in current and future conflicts. Furthermore, the specific timing of the Ethiopia-Tigray crisis, which coincided with an acute climate crisis in the region, underscores the fact that IGAD must move beyond a mediation role and propose more viable ways of coping with the devastating interwoven consequences of human-made conflicts and climate hazards, especially in view of IGAD member states' common vulnerabilities based on its experience in conflict mediation, both in relation to the Ethiopia-Tigray conflict and in other conflicts.

In reading Noah Salomon's book For the Love of the Prophet: An Ethnography of Sudan's Islamic State, two quotes come to mind. The first, from Ernest Gellner's Muslim Society, in reference to postcolonial transitions toward nation states, reads: “The scripturalist style of faith is modernisable; the tribal and saintly one is not. The scripturalist version can be presented as a national ideology; defining all Moslems in a given territory as one nation. It is also possessed of an international ideological dignity: petty hereditary saints and their market-place profane festivals lack it.”1The second quote, from Achille Mbembe's book On the Postcolony, claims that: “the Postcolony is made up not of one ‘public space’ but of several, each having its own logic yet liable to been tangled with other logics when operating in certain contexts; hence, the postcolonial subject has to learn to bargain in this conceptual marketplace.”2 I would like to address Salomon's book through the lens of these quotes, with a focus on the relations between Sufis and Islamists.Salomon's book examines the ethnography of religious and political life under the regime of the Islamist Party National Islamic Party (NIF, which later became the National Congress Party, NCP), which has ruled Sudan since the revolution of 1989.The book offers us a rare glimpse of everyday life in an Islamic state. For example, “It was on those bus rides across town that I began to hear them more clearly: bus radios constantly blasting popified madïḥ [Islamic praise poetry], which my fellow passengers informed me were enjoining a renaissance under the current regime that supported their resurgence through radio projects and state television” (3). Solomon's book supports Gellner's claim that the “scripturalist version” of Islam is more compatible with modernization than the “tribal and saintly one.” Notably, the public sphere that is portrayed in detail throughout the book is not detached from the state. Salomon's book contradicts the conventional dichotomy between the state and the public sphere, showing that the public sphere is manifestly located within the state's structures of authority. He argues that “by rejecting the impenetrability of the boundary between the state and civil society, official realms and the public sphere, this book also challenges pre-suppositions of the public sphere as necessarily a place where only free deliberation occurs, where traditional authority is challenged, where discourse is takes place solely in the medium of talk” (12). By defining the public sphere as “a space of discipline,” where various forms of authority and communication exist and interact, this book provides a very important insight into the durability of the Islamist regime in Sudan, as well as in other places where religion has become an inseparable component of the state as well as the public sphere. One example of this interaction, introduced in chapter 4, is the story of Al-Kawthar radio, which since 2005 broadcasts mainly madïḥ, serving a national agenda to make “Sudan the Country That Prays upon the Prophet the Most” (131), and at the same time increasing its popularity among urban youth, which has made it a vital part of the soundtrack of the modern city in Sudan.Solomon has not glamorized the reality of almost three decades of Islamist rule, claiming in a realistic manner that “the Islamic solutions put forward by the regime did not result in the prosperity or autonomy that the regime promised (at least not for more Sudanese), but led instead to continuing poverty, the proliferation of civil wars, and the loss of the southern third of the country” (201). As such, grievances of some Sudanese citizens, and particularly among young people who feel that the Islamist framework has not provided good governance, have led them to seek out more radical options (or more purified to their perceptions), in order to express their religious identity. This trend manifested itself in the case of the nine students from the University of Medical Sciences and Technology in Khartoum, who decided to join the Islamic State in 2015, to the great horror of Sudanese officials.Salomon's approach to Sufi identities in Sudan is particularly interesting. Recalling Mbembe's observation that several public spaces can exist in a postcolony, Salomon's descriptions of the relations between different currents of Islamic identities are fascinating, particularly in the way they fluctuate between conflict and completion. In contrast to the conventional perceptions of Islamism and Sufism as oppositional, and often clashing, expressions of Islam, he rightfully claims that Sudanese Islamism is not synonymous with Salafi attitudes toward Sufism. Salomon carefully examines the relations between Sufis and the Sudanese Islamist state and public sphere, looking for modes of integration and conflict. He looks at the ways the National Council for Mindfulness of God and Those Who Are Mindful (NCMG), which was founded in an attempt to “reform religious organizations so as to direct their energies toward the political goals that the regime had identified,” claimed that “Sufism energy should not be wasted but rather directed down new avenues.” Salomon strengthened this claim by quoting NCMG's publication titles, such as “The Sufi Movement and Sudanese Independence” and “Shaykh Wad Badr and Political Sufism” (74–75).The author shows that some aspects of Sufism were embraced by the Islamist regime, such as the obedience of the disciple to his Shaykh, which the ruling party considered an important tool for political mobilization. Other aspects, such as “Sufi epistemology that relies on the notion of restricted knowledge (the secret, or sirr) and spiritual elite (the awaliyā) that has exclusive access to it” (110), were considered less desirable, and even subversive, by the Islamist regime. The Sufi tariqa is an essential part of the history and public sphere in Sudan, and so the Islamist regime framed the enemy as the West and secularization rather than the Sufis. At the same time, the regime tried to “civilize” Sufism in order to make it adapt to the regime's Islamist ideology. Salomon shows that the interactions between Sufis and Islamists in the Sudanese state and public sphere challenge Gellner's argument that “tribal and saintly” forms of Islam are not compatible with modernization. Sufism has endured in the Sudanese public and state spheres, even when the dominant state ideology and modernizing power was a scripturalist version of Islam.In summary, Noah Salomon's book For the Love of the Prophet is an excellent and original piece of scholarship, presenting a vivid picture of everyday life in an Islamist state combined with in-depth and challenging discussions on scholarly topics such as the relations between state and society, the changing relations between different currents of religion, and their often-changing dynamic in the religious sphere. Salomon's book makes a landmark contribution to the growing scholarship on Sudan, and the role of religion in its history, from a refreshing and unique angle. In the epilogue, Salomon deals with the attitudes of the Sudanese Islamists both to the rise of more extremist currents of Islamism (such as the Islamic State) and the secular agenda of South Sudan, which split from Sudan during the period covered by the book (even though the book shows new spheres of religiosity being created in South Sudan as well). The book raises crucial questions about the relationship between the modern sovereign nation-state and religion, a relationship that should be explored in the study of other states and societies throughout the contemporary world (and not necessarily just in Muslim ones).

Chanfi Ahmed's book is an excellent piece of scholarship, and is well written to boot. The book investigates and evaluates the roles of the Muslim scholars who left West Africa and eventually settled in the Holy Cities of Mecca and Medina from the 1920s on. Those West African scholars supported King ʿAbd al-ʿAziz's (Ibn Saʿud) regime in its early days by teaching and spreading Salafi-Wahhabi Islam both inside and outside Saudi Arabia.Ahmed claims that “the project of Ibn-Saʿud was successful particularly because of the support provided by the ʿulamaʾ from outside the Arabian Peninsula. Ibn-Saʿud presented his Salafi-Wahhabi project as a revival of Islam, and thus as a project of all Muslims who follow the four schools (madhāib) and not only as the revival of the people of Najd, as is so often propagated” (2). This claim is indeed a challenge to the more conventional interpretation that considers the spread of the Salafi-Wahhabi doctrine as being the work of ʿulamaʾ from Najd (Central Arabia) only. Moreover, Ahmed's book contradicts the conventional dichotomy between center and periphery in the Islamic world and shows that their definitions are constantly changing. This was particularly the case during the colonial period in the Middle East, and even more specifically from the 1920s onward, when the Ibn Saʿud family was trying to build its legitimacy as the center of the Muslim world, and needed the support of the intellectual elite from various corners of the Muslim world.The book is comprised of seven chapters, three of which are structured chronologically around three generations of West African ʿulamaʾ who migrated to the Mecca and Medina. Ahmed introduces the “forerunners,” the first generation of West African ʿulamaʾ, in the second chapter, and explains their motives for emigrating from their West African homeland to the Holy Cities. In addition, he expounds on the ways that colonial conquest and ideas of Islamic revivalism shaped both their journeys and their decisions to settle in the Holy Cities. Ahmed analyzes the various components of their Islamic identity, such as their Sufi practices and beliefs. While considered bidʾa (unwanted innovation) by Salafi-Wahhabi doctrines, Ahmed shows that Sufi rituals and observance continued to play an important role in the lives of some of the first generation of West African ʿulamaʾ. The second generation, described as the “heirs of the hijra and teachers in the first Islamic institutes in Saudi Arabia” (32), were depicted as less tolerant toward non-Salafi-Wahhabi forms of beliefs as compared to the earlier generation. This was the case with the well-known scholar and one of the prominent figures of the book, ʿAbd al-Rahmân Yûsuf al-Ifrîqî, who refuted the beliefs of the powerful West African Tijāiniyya Sufi order (66–67). The second generation of West African ʿulamaʾ in Mecca and Medina were also well known for their scholarship and teaching, especially of the science of hadiths, and al-Ifrîqî even became the Head of the Dâr al-Hadîth. The third generation (Chapter 5) describes the institutionalizing of the Salafi-Wahhabi sciences during the 1950s, with the establishment of the first Islamic universities in Saudi Arabia, and the prominent role West African ʿulamaʾ, such as ʿUmar Fallâta, played in this process. Other chapters expand on the historical background, describing the history of the hijra and hajj from West Africa to Mecca and Medina (in Chapter 1), for example, while others deal with more methodological issues, such as the contribution of biographies (Tarjama) to the research of these West African ʿulamaʾ (Chapter 7).Taken together, this book constructs a picture of a vivid community of West African scholars who were playing an important part in shaping and defining Salafi-Wahhabi ideas and practices, and spreading them to other parts of the world during the colonial period (and a bit afterward). In this context, the book discusses the importance of the interactions between West African and Indian ʿulamaʾ, such as the story of Mahmûd al-Madanî's trip to India in 1934–35 to study with teachers of the Ahl al-Hadith school in Benares (28). These descriptions make an important contribution to those examining the colonial empires (mostly the British, but to some degree also the French). These episodes show the interaction between religious figures across continents shedding light on the spread of new (or renewed) religious ideas, doctrines, and learning. Also relevant, in this context, is the relatively thin discussion of the influence of these ʿulamaʾ “back home,” in West Africa. Ahmed only briefly mentions this issue (e.g., in the conclusion, 190–91), and yet the influence of these scholars in West Africa during the colonial period (e.g., in the conclusion, 190–91) could be further elaborated on in the appropriate chapters.This book is largely based on sources in Arabic, English, and French. At the same time, Ahmed made use of many primary sources such as personal interviews, newspapers, and various local documents. One example is an interview conducted in Jeddah in 2008 with Yūsuf Diallo, a family member of ʿAbd al-Rahmân Yûsuf al-Ifrîqî, who described the local environment in which the famous ʿalim was raised (47–48). The combination of solid research literature and extensive fieldwork, both in Saudi Arabia and West Africa, contributes to both the credibility and originality of the book.Chanfi Ahmed's book makes a landmark contribution to the various categories of regional histories. It is not just a welcome addition to the growing scholarship on the history of Muslims in West Africa, but also to the history of Islam during the colonial period and in the Arabian Peninsula. By emphasizing the West African ʿulamaʾ's contribution in shaping major Islamic doctrines and practices during one of the most challenging periods in the history of Islam, Ahmed redefines concepts of center and periphery in the Muslim world that often tend to portray West Africa solely as consumers of Islam, ignoring their contribution as shapers and producers of various streams of Islamic thought and practice.

This article aims to review the East Africa regional organization Intergovernmental Authority on Development (IGAD) mediation efforts in Sudan and South Sudan and to contextualize them within the broader context of regionalization in post-Cold War Africa. The idea of using sub-regional organizations to solve interstate conflicts derived from the interwoven phenomena of increasing Western isolationism toward Africa and the growing number of conflicts in the post-Cold War continent. Against this backdrop, the intervention of IGAD in the conflict between northern and southern Sudan in the 1990s and 2000s illustrates how proactive intervention and mediation by a regional organization may contribute to the resolution of intrastate conflicts. IGAD’s mediation efforts were in demand again when it turned out that South Sudan’s historic achievement of independence was overshadowed by internal strife, which has, since 2013, escalated to a large-scale conflict. In this context, the article will try to explore whether IGAD’s accumulated institutional experience over many years of active mediation has marked a new direction of regional activism in East Africa.

Pilgrimage routes from West Africa provided channels for cultural and spiritual exchange between West African and Middle Eastern Muslims, and facilitated religious exchanges. Some of these exchanges were orthodox in nature; others, such as Sufi beliefs and practices, were more popular in their appeal. This article examines the ways that Tijāniyya tāriqa leaders and disciples spread their beliefs and practices along the hajj routes during the colonial period. Since this period saw the transformation of boundaries and borders, the hajj could be perceived more as a “state affair,” as its routes moved within the boundaries of the new empires or fluctuated between the new colonial empires. The article focuses on the Tijāniyya tāriqa, mainly because this tāriqa was relatively new (established around the beginning of the nineteenth century) and as such serves as a good case study for the spread of tāriqa affiliations through the hajj routes from West Africa during the colonial period. This article also examines the role of the hajj for Tijāni West African Muslims who settled in Jerusalem in the same period.

Conflicts and encounters between Sufis and Islamists have persisted throughout much of Islamic history in areas such as the Middle East, the North Caucasus, and the Indian sub-continent. In this context, two cases from West Africa are particularly interesting. In colonial Senegal, Wahhabi influences were common, and during the 1950s, they even seemed to pose an alternative to the hegemony of Sufism in the colony of Senegal. Yet in the creation and development of the post-colonial state, the centrality of Sufism has apparently confined the influence of the Wahhabists to the margins. In Nigeria, on the other hand, the influence of the Wahhabiyah was marginal in the colonial period and the Sufi tarCEqas maintained their status and appeal to the masses; from the 1960s onwards, Wahhabi influences gradually diminished the power of Sufism amongst Nigerian Muslims. This article explores and compares the dynamics that developed between Sufis and Wahhabists in Senegal and Nigeria, from the colony to the post-colony. Inasmuch as Senegal and Nigeria represent the Francophone and Anglophone colonies and postcolonies, analyzing the historical development of different colonial heritages will clarify the apparent similarities and differences in relations between Sufis and Wahhabists in these two spheres of influences.

في سبعينيات القرن العشرين وما بعدها ظهرت في شمال نيجيريا صراعات بين تياراتفكرية ومنظميه ترعرعت بتأثير الوهابية, وبين الطرق الصوفية. لقد كانت هذه الصراعاتحادة وعلنية وفي حالات أخرى كانت عنيفة, وأدت إلى تغيير واضح في هوية الإسلام في هذ االإقليم الذي يغلب علية الطابع الديني, فكثير من سكانه كانوا أتباعا للطرق الصوفية للقادريةوللتجانية يصف هذا المقال تطور العلاقة بين التيارات في الفترة ما بعد الكولونيالية ثم يقومبتحليل العوامل الخارجية والداخلية فيما يتعلق بنيجريا. تلك العوامل أدت إلى تطور الصراعاتبينهم منذ السبعينات وما بعدها. مع هذا, فان المقال يزعم أن البحث يميل أحيانا ليكون أكثرانشطاريا للتيارات في الإسلامي فانه, يتجه لينسب الصفة الراديكالية والسياسية لأولئك الحاملينلوجهة النظر الوهابية, في مقابل ذلك نسب صفة الاعتدال , وفي حالات معينة حتى الانهزام,للمنادين بوجهات نظر صوفية. يظهر لنا أن تحليل العلاقة بين التيارات الفكرية المختلفة فيالإسلام شمال- نيجيريا كعلاقات دينامكية متغيرة باستمرارية. وليس علاقات تتسم أساسا بتصادم بين هويات منفصلة, تتيح إجراء نقاش أكثر مرونة بهذه العلاقات, التي تتسم في العقدالأخير أيضا بمحاولات للتقرب وخلق الحوار.

Research Article| May 01 2004 Muslims and Christians in Nigeria: Attitudes Towards the United States from a Post-September 11th Perspective Irit Back Irit Back Search for other works by this author on: This Site Google Comparative Studies of South Asia, Africa and the Middle East (2004) 24 (1): 213–221. https://doi.org/10.1215/1089201X-24-1-213 Cite Icon Cite Share Icon Share Facebook Twitter LinkedIn MailTo Permissions Search Site Citation Irit Back; Muslims and Christians in Nigeria: Attitudes Towards the United States from a Post-September 11th Perspective. Comparative Studies of South Asia, Africa and the Middle East 1 May 2004; 24 (1): 213–221. doi: https://doi.org/10.1215/1089201X-24-1-213 Download citation file: Zotero Reference Manager EasyBib Bookends Mendeley Papers EndNote RefWorks BibTex toolbar search Search Dropdown Menu toolbar search search input Search input auto suggest filter your search Books & JournalsAll JournalsComparative Studies of South Asia, Africa and the Middle East Search Advanced Search The text of this article is only available as a PDF. Comparative Studies of South Asia, Africa and the Middle East2004 Article PDF first page preview Close Modal You do not currently have access to this content.