CHAPTER II. Pan-Islamism

PAN-ISLAMISM

Like all great movements, the Mohammedan Revival is highly complex. Starting with the simple, puritan protest of Wahabism, it has developed many phases, widely diverse and sometimes almost antithetical. In the previous chapter we examined the phase looking toward an evolutionary reformation of Islam and a genuine assimilation of the progressive spirit as well as the external forms of Western civilization. At the same time we saw that these liberal reformers are as yet only a minority, an elite; while the Moslem masses, still plunged in ignorance and imperfectly awakened from their age-long torpor, are influenced by other leaders of a very different character--men inclined to militant rather than pacific courses, and hostile rather than receptive to the West. These militant forces are, in their turn, complex. They may be grouped roughly under the general concepts known as "Pan-Islamism" and "Nationalism." It is to a consideration of the first of these two concepts, to Pan-Islamism, that this chapter is devoted.

Pan-Islamism, which in its broadest sense is the feeling of solidarity between all "True Believers," is as old as the Prophet, when Mohammed and his few followers were bound together by the tie of faith against their pagan compatriots who sought their destruction. To Mohammed the principle of fraternal solidarity among Moslems was of transcendent importance, and he succeeded in implanting this so deeply in Moslem hearts that thirteen centuries have not sensibly weakened it. The bond between Moslem and Moslem is to-day much stronger than that between Christian and Christian. Of course Moslems fight bitterly among themselves, but these conflicts never quite lose the aspect of family quarrels and tend to be adjourned in presence of infidel aggression. Islam's profound sense of solidarity probably explains in large part its extraordinary hold upon its followers. No other religion has such a grip on its votaries. Islam has won vast territories from Christianity and Brahmanism, and has driven Magism from the face of the earth; yet there has been no single instance where a people, once become Moslem, has ever abandoned the faith. Extirpated they may have been, like the Moors of Spain, but extirpation is not apostasy.

Islam's solidarity is powerfully buttressed by two of its fundamental institutions: the "Hajj," or pilgrimage to Mecca, and the caliphate. Contrary to the general opinion in the West, it is the Hajj rather than the caliphate which has exerted the more consistently unifying influence. Mohammed ordained the Hajj as a supreme act of faith, and every year fully 100,000 pilgrims arrive, drawn from every quarter of the Moslem world. There, before the sacred Kaaba of Mecca, men of all races, tongues, and cultures meet and mingle in an ecstasy of common devotion, returning to their homes bearing the proud title of "Hajjis," or Pilgrims--a title which insures them the reverent homage of their fellow Moslems for all the rest of their days. The political implications of the Hajj are obvious. It is in reality a perennial Pan-Islamic congress, where all the interests of the faith are discussed by delegates from every part of the Mohammedan world, and where plans are elaborated for Islam's defence and propagation. Here nearly all the militant leaders of the Mohammedan Revival (Abd-el-Wahab, Mahommed ben Sennussi, Djemal-ed-Din el-Afghani, and many more) felt the imperious summons to their task.

As for the caliphate, it has played a great historic role, especially in its early days, and we have already studied its varying fortunes. Reduced to a mere shadow after the Mongol destruction of Bagdad, it was revived by the Turkish sultans, who assumed the title and were recognized as caliphs by the orthodox Moslem world. However, these sultan-caliphs of Stambul never succeeded in winning the religious homage accorded their predecessors of Mecca and Bagdad. In Arab eyes, especially, the spectacle of Turkish caliphs was an anachronism to which they could never be truly reconciled. Sultan Abdul Hamid, to be sure, made an ambitious attempt to revive the caliphate's pristine greatness, but such success as he attained was due more to the general tide of Pan-Islamic feeling than to the inherent potency of the caliphal name. The real leaders of modern Pan-Islamism either gave Abdul Hamid a merely qualified allegiance or were, like El Sennussi, definitely hostile. This was not realized in Europe, which came to fear Abdul Hamid as a sort of Mohammedan pope. Even to-day most Western observers seem to think that Pan-Islamism centres in the caliphate, and we see European publicists hopefully discussing whether the caliphate's retention by the discredited Turkish sultans, its transference to the Shereef of Mecca, or its total suppression, will best clip Pan-Islam's wings. This, however, is a distinctly short-sighted view. The caliphal institution is still undoubtedly venerated in Islam. But the shrewd leaders of the modern Pan-Islamic movement have long been working on a much broader basis. They realize that Pan-Islamism's real driving-power to-day lies not in the caliphate but in institutions like the Hajj and the great Pan-Islamic fraternities such as the Sennussiya, of which I shall presently speak.

Let us now trace the fortunes of modern Pan-Islamism. Its first stage was of course the Wahabi movement. The Wahabi state founded by Abd-el-Wahab in the Nejd was modelled on the theocratic democracy of the Meccan caliphs, and when Abd-el-Wahab's princely disciple, Saud, loosed his fanatic hosts upon the holy cities, he dreamed that this was but the first step in a puritan conquest and consolidation of the whole Moslem world. Foiled in this grandiose design, Wahabism, nevertheless, soon produced profound political disturbances in distant regions like northern India and Afghanistan, as I have already narrated. They were, however, all integral parts of the Wahabi phase, being essentially protests against the political decadence of Moslem states and the moral decadence of Moslem rulers. These outbreaks were not inspired by any special fear or hatred of the West, since Europe was not yet seriously assailing Islam except in outlying regions like European Turkey or the Indies, and the impending peril was consequently not appreciated.

By the middle of the nineteenth century, however, the situation had radically altered. The French conquest of Algeria, the Russian acquisition of Transcaucasia, and the English mastery of virtually all India, convinced thoughtful Moslems everywhere that Islam was in deadly peril of falling under Western domination. It was at this time that Pan-Islamism assumed that essentially anti-Western character which it has ever since retained. At first resistance to Western encroachment was sporadic and unco-ordinated. Here and there heroic figures like Abd-el-Kader in Algeria and Shamyl in the Caucasus fought brilliantly against the European invaders. But though these paladins of the faith were accorded widespread sympathy from Moslems, they received no tangible assistance and, unaided, fell.

Fear and hatred of the West, however, steadily grew in intensity, and the seventies saw the Moslem world swept from end to end by a wave of militant fanaticism. In Algeria there was the Kabyle insurrection of 1871, while all over North Africa arose fanatical "Holy Men" preaching holy wars, the greatest of these being the Mahdist insurrection in the Egyptian Sudan, which maintained itself against England's best efforts down to Kitchener's capture of Khartum at the very end of the century. In Afghanistan there was an intense exacerbation of fanaticism awakening sympathetic echoes among the Indian Moslems, both of which gave the British much trouble. In Central Asia there was a similar access of fanaticism, centring in the powerful Nakechabendiya fraternity, spreading eastward into Chinese territory and culminating in the great revolts of the Chinese Mohammedans both in Chinese Turkestan and Yunnan. In the Dutch East Indies there was a whole series of revolts, the most serious of these being the Atchin War, which dragged on interminably, not being quite stamped out even to-day.

The salient characteristic of this period of militant unrest is its lack of co-ordination. These risings were all spontaneous outbursts of local populations; animated, to be sure, by the same spirit of fear and hatred, and inflamed by the same fanatical hopes, but with no evidence of a central authority laying settled plans and moving in accordance with a definite programme. The risings were inspired largely by the mystical doctrine known as "Mahdism." Mahdism was unknown to primitive Islam, no trace of it occurring in the Koran. But in the "traditions," or reputed sayings of Mohammed, there occurs the statement that the Prophet predicted the coming of one bearing the title of "El Mahdi" who would fill the earth with equity and justice. From this arose the widespread mystical hope in the appearance of a divinely inspired personage who would effect the universal triumph of Islam, purge the world of infidels, and assure the lasting happiness of all Moslems. This doctrine has profoundly influenced Moslem history. At various times fanatic leaders have arisen claiming to be El Mahdi, "The Master of the Hour," and have won the frenzied devotion of the Moslem masses; just as certain "Messiahs" have similarly excited the Jews. It was thus natural that, in their growing apprehension and impotent rage at Western aggression, the Moslem masses should turn to the messianic hope of Mahdism. Yet Mahdism, by its very nature, could effect nothing constructive or permanent. It was a mere straw fire; flaring up fiercely here and there, then dying down, leaving the disillusioned masses more discouraged and apathetic than before.

Now all this was recognized by the wiser supporters of the Pan-Islamic idea. The impotence of the wildest outbursts of local fanaticism against the methodical might of Europe convinced thinking Moslems that long preparation and complete co-ordination of effort were necessary if Islam was to have any chance of throwing off the European yoke. Such men also realized that they must study Western methods and adopt much of the Western technique of power. Above all, they felt that the political liberation of Islam from Western domination must be preceded by a profound spiritual regeneration, thereby engendering the moral forces necessary both for the war of liberation and for the fruitful reconstruction which should follow thereafter. At this point the ideals of Pan-Islamists and liberals approach each other. Both recognize Islam's present decadence; both desire its spiritual regeneration. It is on the nature of that regeneration that the two parties are opposed. The liberals believe that Islam should really assimilate Western ideas. The Pan-Islamists, on the other hand, believe that primitive Islam contains all that is necessary for regeneration, and contend that only Western methods and material achievements should be adopted by the Moslem world.

The beginnings of self-conscious, systematic Pan-Islamism date from about the middle of the nineteenth century. The movement crystallizes about two foci: the new-type religious fraternities like the Sennussiya, and the propaganda of the group of thinkers headed by Djemal-ed-Din. Let us first consider the fraternities.

Religious fraternities have existed in Islam for centuries. They all possess the same general type of organization, being divided into lodges ("Zawias") headed by Masters known as "Mokaddem," who exercise a more or less extensive authority over the "Khouan" or Brethren. Until the foundation of the new-type organizations like the Sennussi, however, the fraternities exerted little practical influence upon mundane affairs. Their interests were almost wholly religious, of a mystical, devotional nature, often characterized by great austerities or by fanatical excesses like those practised by the whirling and howling dervishes. Such political influence as they did exert was casual and local. Anything like joint action was impossible, owing to their mutual rivalries and jealousies. These old-type fraternities still exist in great numbers, but they are without political importance except as they have been leavened by the new-type fraternities.

The new-type organizations date from about the middle of the nineteenth century, the most important in every way being the Sennussiya. Its founder, Seyid Mahommed ben Sennussi, was born near Mostaganem, Algeria, about the year 1800. As his title "Seyid" indicates, he was a descendant of the Prophet, and was thus born to a position of honour and importance. He early displayed a strong bent for learning and piety, studying theology at the Moorish University of Fez and afterwards travelling widely over North Africa preaching a reform of the prevailing religious abuses. He then made the pilgrimage to Mecca, and there his reformist zeal was still further quickened by the Wahabi teachers. It was at that time that he appears to have definitely formulated his plan of a great puritan order, and in 1843 he returned to North Africa, settling in Tripoli, where he built his first Zawia, known as the "Zawia Baida," or White Monastery, in the mountains near Derna. So impressive was his personality and so great his organizing ability that converts flocked to him from all over North Africa. Indeed, his power soon alarmed the Turkish authorities in Tripoli, and relations became so strained that Seyid Mahommed presently moved his headquarters to the oasis of Jarabub, far to the south in the Lybian desert. When he died in 1859, his organization had spread over the greater part of North Africa.

Seyid Mahommed's work was carried on uninterruptedly by his son, usually known as Sennussi-el-Mahdi. The manner in which this son gained his succession typifies the Sennussi spirit. Seyid Mahommed had two sons, El Mahdi being the younger. While they were still mere lads, their father determined to put them to a test, to discover which of them had the stronger faith. In presence of the entire Zawia he bade both sons climb a tall palm-tree, and then adjured them by Allah and his Prophet to leap to the ground. The younger lad leaped at once and reached the ground unharmed; the elder boy refused to spring. To El Mahdi, "who feared not to commit himself to the will of God," passed the right to rule. Throughout his long life Sennussi-el-Mahdi justified his father's choice, displaying wisdom and piety of a high order, and further extending the power of the fraternity. During the latter part of his reign he removed his headquarters to the oasis of Jowf, still farther into the Lybian desert, where he died in 1902, and was succeeded by his nephew, Ahmed-el-Sherif, the present head of the Order, who also appears to possess marked ability.

With nearly eighty years of successful activity behind it, the Sennussi Order is to-day one of the vital factors in Islam. It counts its adherents in every quarter of the Moslem world. In Arabia its followers are very numerous, and it profoundly influences the spiritual life of the holy cities, Mecca and Medina. North Africa, however, still remains the focus of Sennussism. The whole of northern Africa, from Morocco to Somaliland, is dotted with its Zawias, or lodges, all absolutely dependent upon the Grand Lodge, headed by The Master, El Sennussi. The Sennussi stronghold of Jowf lies in the very heart of the Lybian Sahara. Only one European eye has ever seen this mysterious spot. Surrounded by absolute desert, with wells many leagues apart, and the routes of approach known only to experienced Sennussi guides, every one of whom would suffer a thousand deaths rather than betray him, El Sennussi, The Master, sits serenely apart, sending his orders throughout North Africa.

The influence exerted by the Sennussiya is profound. The local Zawias are more than mere "lodges." Besides the Mokaddem, or Master, there is also a "Wekil," or civil governor, and these officers have discretionary authority not merely over the Zawia members but also over the community at large--at least, so great is the awe inspired by the Sennussiya throughout North Africa, that a word from Wekil or Mokaddem is always listened to and obeyed. Thus, besides the various European colonial authorities, British, French, or Italian, as the case may be, there exists an occult government with which the colonial authorities are careful not to come into conflict.

On their part, the Sennussi are equally careful to avoid a downright breach with the European Powers. Their long-headed, cautious policy is truly astonishing. For more than half a century the order has been a great force, yet it has never risked the supreme adventure. In many of the fanatic risings which have occurred in various parts of Africa, local Sennussi have undoubtedly taken part, and the same was true during the Italian campaign in Tripoli and in the late war, but the order itself has never officially entered the lists.

In fact, this attitude of mingled cautious reserve and haughty aloofness is maintained not only towards Christians but also towards the other powers that be in Islam. The Sennussiya has always kept its absolute freedom of action. Its relations with the Turks have never been cordial. Even the wily Abdul Hamid, at the height of his prestige as the champion of Pan-Islamism, could never get from El Sennussi more than coldly platonic expressions of approval, and one of Sennussi-el-Mahdi's favourite remarks was said to have been: "Turks and Christians: I will break both of them with one and the same stroke." Equally characteristic was his attitude toward Mahommed Ahmed, the leader of the "Mahdist" uprising in the Egyptian Sudan. Flushed with victory, Mahommed Ahmed sent emissaries to El Sennussi, asking his aid. El Sennussi refused, remarking haughtily: "What have I to do with this fakir from Dongola? Am I not myself Mahdi if I choose?"

These Fabian tactics do not mean that the Sennussi are idle. Far from it. On the contrary, they are ceaselessly at work with the spiritual arms of teaching, discipline, and conversion. The Sennussi programme is the welding, first, of Moslem Africa and, later, of the whole Moslem world into the revived "Imamat" of Islam's early days; into a great theocracy, embracing all True Believers--in other words, Pan-Islamism. But they believe that the political liberation of Islam from Christian domination must be preceded by a profound spiritual regeneration. Toward this end they strive ceaselessly to improve the manners and morals of the populations under their influence, while they also strive to improve material conditions by encouraging the better cultivation of oases, digging new wells, building rest-houses along the caravan routes, and promoting trade. The slaughter and rapine practised by the Sudanese Mahdists disgusted the Sennussi and drew from their chief words of scathing condemnation.

All this explains the Order's unprecedented self-restraint. This is the reason why, year after year and decade after decade, the Sennussi advance slowly, calmly, coldly; gathering great latent power, but avoiding the temptation to expend it one instant before the proper time. Meanwhile they are covering North Africa with their lodges and schools, disciplining the people to the voice of their Mokaddems and Wekils; and, to the southward, converting millions of pagan negroes to the faith of Islam.

Nothing better shows modern Islam's quickened vitality than the revival of missionary fervour during the past hundred years. Of course Islam has always displayed strong proselytizing power. Its missionary successes in its early days were extraordinary, and even in its period of decline it never wholly lost its propagating vigour. Throughout the Middle Ages Islam continued to gain ground in India and China; the Turks planted it firmly in the Balkans; while between the fourteenth and sixteenth centuries Moslem missionaries won notable triumphs in such distant regions as West Africa, the Dutch Indies, and the Philippines. Nevertheless, taking the Moslem world as a whole, religious zeal undoubtedly declined, reaching low-water mark during the eighteenth century.

The first breath of the Mohammedan Revival, however, blew the smouldering embers of proselytism into a new flame, and everywhere except in Europe Islam began once more advancing portentously along all its far-flung frontiers. Every Moslem is, to some extent, a born missionary and instinctively propagates his faith among his non-Moslem neighbours, so the work was carried on not only by priestly specialists but also by multitudes of travellers, traders, and humble migratory workers. Of course numerous zealots consecrated their lives to the task. This was particularly true of the religious fraternities. The Sennussi have especially distinguished themselves by their apostolic fervour, and from those natural monasteries, the oases of the Sahara, thousands of "Marabouts" have gone forth with flashing eyes and swelling breasts to preach the marvels of Islam, devoured with a zeal like that of the Christian mendicant friars of the Middle Ages. Islam's missionary triumphs among the negroes of West and Central Africa during the past century have been extraordinary. Every candid European observer tells the same story. As an Englishman very justly remarked some twenty years ago: "Mohammedanism is making marvellous progress in the interior of Africa. It is crushing paganism out. Against it the Christian propaganda is a myth." And a French Protestant missionary remarks in similar vein: "We see Islam on its march, sometimes slowed down but never stopped, towards the heart of Africa. Despite all obstacles encountered, it tirelessly pursues its way. It fears nothing. Even Christianity, its most serious rival, Islam regards without hate, so sure is it of victory. While Christians dream of the conquest of Africa, the Mohammedans do it."

The way in which Islam is marching southward is dramatically shown by a recent incident. A few years ago the British authorities suddenly discovered that Mohammedanism was pervading Nyassaland. An investigation brought out the fact that it was the work of Zanzibar Arabs. They began their propaganda about 1900. Ten years later almost every village in southern Nyassaland had its Moslem teacher and its mosque hut. Although the movement was frankly anti-European, the British authorities did not dare to check it for fear of repercussions elsewhere. Many European observers fear that it is only a question of time when Islam will cross the Zambezi and enter South Africa.

And these gains are not made solely against paganism. They are being won at the expense of African Christianity as well. In West Africa the European missions lose many of their converts to Islam, while across the continent the ancient Abyssinian Church, so long an outpost against Islam, seems in danger of submersion by the rising Moslem tide. Not by warlike incursions, but by peaceful penetration, the Abyssinians are being Islamized. "Tribes which, fifty or sixty years ago, counted hardly a Mohammedan among them, to-day live partly or wholly according to the precepts of Islam."

Islam's triumphs in Africa are perhaps its most noteworthy missionary victories, but they by no means tell the whole story, as a few instances drawn from other quarters of the Moslem world will show. In the previous