Jihad of the Pen. Rudolph Ware

and cultivated an agrarian-based learning community mostly outside the reach of European colonial power. This village quickly developed into a major Islamic regional center, called Touba or Tuba, meaning blessedness (from the root t-y-b). Tuba is mentioned once in the Qur’an (13:29), and in exegesis it is usually identified as a tree in Paradise with roots that extend up into the highest heavens and branches that reach down into each residence in the Garden. Bamba himself became known as Seriñ Touba, “the master (or teacher) of Touba.” His primary Sufi affiliation in his early life, like that of ‘Uthman bin Fudi, was with the Qadiriya scholars descending from Mukhtar Kunti—in this case, Shaykh Sidiya of Boutelimit, Mauritania. Also like Shehu ‘Uthman, Bamba received prayers directly from the Prophet and did not exclusively identify himself with the Qadiriya.¹⁸ Fearful of his growing influence, the French exiled him to Gabon in 1895; but the seven years that Bamba spent in exile in fact became the occasion for further spiritual attainment. He was reported to have prayed on top of the sea when the French would not let him pray in their boat.¹⁹ Exile confirmed his most cherished spiritual station, the “servant of God’s Messenger” (khadim al-rasul), a disposition already articulated in Bamba’s earlier poetry: “My time is henceforth exclusively devoted to Muhammad until the ultimate day.”²⁰

      This idea of service (khidma) to the Prophet, reflected in the disciple’s service to his master, had important social resonance in Senegal at a time when former slaves and cast out people made increasing demands for inclusion in Muslim scholarly communities. Bamba defined honor in terms of service to Islam, rather than saintly or scholarly lineage: “Whatever nobility one might claim for his ancestors, the truth is that these ancestors originated from water and clay.”²¹ Today the Mouride community commands some five million followers in Senegal and among the Senegalese diaspora in the United States and Europe,²² and the annual Maggal celebration in Touba, commemorating Bamba’s exile to Gabon, draws millions of devotees.²³

      Ibrahim bin ‘Abdallah Niasse (1900–1975)²⁴ laid claim to the “spiritual flood” (fayda) foretold by Ahmad al-Tijani as bringing people into Islam and the Tijaniyya “group upon group.” For Niasse, Muslim and Tijani religiosity was intimately connected to direct experiential knowledge of God, ma‘rifat Allah. He promised disciples the immediate acquisition of this most cherished Sufi aspiration. He wrote in verse in 1946, “Whoever seeks me with purpose attains the knowledge of God, the Eternal Sustainer; the elders the same as the youth, since the beloved [Prophet], the sanctuary has come close.”²⁵ The desire for direct knowledge of God had a wide appeal throughout West Africa and beyond. After World War II, Niasse traveled frequently to Nigeria, Ghana, Mali, Egypt, Sudan, and elsewhere initiating new aspirants and converting thousands to Islam. His “community of the flood” (jama‘at al-fayda) eventually claimed 60 million followers, perhaps constituting the largest twentieth-century Muslim revivalist movement anywhere in the world. In the Middle East, he became known as the leader (za‘im) of all West African Muslims and the region’s “Shaykh al-Islam.” Like the other saints in this volume, his followers reported numerous miracles of their shaykh, such as keeping an airplane flying despite its having its petrol tank maliciously emptied in a plot to kill him, or being in more than one place at a time.²⁶

      With his mission to revive and actualize the original teachings of Shaykh Ahmad al-Tijani, Shaykh Ibrahim considered himself the special “trustee” (wakil) of al-Tijani as the “Seal of the Saints.” Although he consciously avoided founding his own Sufi path or even distinctive branch of the Tijaniyya, his own claim of paradigmatic sainthood (qutbaniyya) is perhaps the most unambiguous in West African history, if not the history of Sufism more broadly. “The might of the servant is the might of [his] King,” Niasse wrote in verse, “So the universe has been subdued at the hand of a black servant.”²⁷ He declared further, “None of the saintly poles (aqtab) before me have obtained the like of this servant, from the flood of celestial ascension. I thank my Lord that my secret remains fertile, and the least of my followers will obtain annihilation [in God].”²⁸ Except in rare cases, he did not broadcast his visionary experience, although he did indicate that “he [the Prophet] is never absent from me, for all time whether on land or sea,”²⁹ further claiming, “Whoever would compete with me in love and yearning for the Prophet has aspired to that which is impossible and prohibited.”³⁰ These were certainly extraordinary expressions of paradigmatic sainthood. But there is no doubt that disciples of Ibn Fudi, Tal, and Bamba also saw themselves as part of a community of unrivaled saintly authority unbeholden to Arab or other external religious sanction.

      Common Themes and Connections

      These four saints represent four successive generations in which affiliation to a Sufi order became an integral component of most Muslim identities in West Africa. Certainly, each responded to different historical circumstances—particularly in relation to European colonial conquest. But their teachings collectively achieved a common goal: the further inscription and spread of Islamic learning despite the various historical challenges of enslavement, revolution, colonial occupation, and postcolonial balkanization. Each scholar considered here adapted his understanding of the Prophet Muhammad’s example to his own environment. Mervyn Hiskett’s description of ‘Uthman bin Fudi’s mission thus also speaks to that of Tal, Bamba, and Niasse:

      The Shehu, like other impassioned Muslim mystics, strove to conduct his life in imitation of the Prophet Muhammad. For his followers, this created a deeply significant parallel, in which the apparent repetition of the Prophetic pattern became the visible proof of divine intervention on their behalf; and of God’s will that they should succeed in their struggle to establish Islam in Hausaland.³¹

      The emulation of the Prophet’s example (Sunna) thus included some sort of withdrawal from the perceived corruption of the society at large, and the founding of a distinct community from which to better change that society.

      Following the Sunna also meant the internal cultivation of an intense love for the Prophet Muhammad, which marked these communities. Here, the words of al-Hajj ‘Umar speak to this sense of intimacy with the Prophet that became a common theme in West African Sufism:

      God, from His bounty, endowed me with the love for His Prophet. [From an early age] I was confounded with love for him, a love permeating my interior and exterior; something which I both hid and manifested in my soul, my flesh, my blood, my bones, my veins, my skin, my tongue, my hair, my limbs, and every single part making up my being. And I praise God on account of this.³²

      Love for the Prophet was thus a transformative experience. West African Sufi scholars were not only exemplars of the Prophet Muhammad’s external example; their followers also perceived them as embodying the Prophet’s actual spiritual presence. “If this beloved [Prophet] is hidden from you,” Ibrahim Niasse wrote, “verily he dwells in my heart.”³³A common literary theme in the communities under discussion was thus most obviously the love for the Prophet Muhammad. While this took many forms, praise poetry for the Prophet filled thousands of pages—particularly from the pens of Ahmadu Bamba and Ibrahim Niasse. Not all of this poetry was in Arabic. Musa Ka, the most famed poet of the Muridiyya, justified the use of Wolof to express praise for the Prophet as follows:

      Let me say this to those who say that writing in Wolof is not appropriate: rhyming in Wolof or in the noble Arabic language, or in any other, is the same. Any language you use to praise the Prophet of God will then reveal its innermost value.³⁴

      Love for the Prophet thus transformed languages as it transformed people. Muhammad was perceived as the enduring presence that eternally renders praise to God.

      He is a secret that pervades all being

      He is distinguished with might and glory

      He is the sun, except his light never sets

      He is the quenching rain that falls always.³⁵

      Niasse, like Bamba and others before him, thus insisted that his own spiritual attainment came only through love and praise of the Prophet:

      This