Between Social Skills and Marketable Skills Islam in Africa

Brill’s Islam in Africa is designed to present the results of scholarly research into the many aspects of the history and present-day features of Islam in Sub-Saharan Africa. The series will take up issues of religious and intellectual traditions, social signiﬁcance and organization, and other aspects of the Islamic presence in Africa. It includes monographs, collaborative volumes and reference works by researchers from all relevant disciplines.

Editors John Hunwick Rüdiger Seesemann Knut Vikør

VOLUME 10 Between Social Skills and Marketable Skills

The Politics of Islamic Education in 20th century Zanzibar

By Roman Loimeier

LEIDEN • BOSTON 2009 This book is printed on acid-free paper.

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Loimeier, Roman. Between social skills and marketable skills : the politics of Islamic education in 20th century Zanzibar / by Roman Loimeier. p. cm. — (Islam in Africa ; v. 10) Includes index. ISBN 978-90-04-17542-6 (hardback : alk. paper) 1. Islamic education—Zanzibar—History—20th century. 2. Education and state— Zanzibar—History—20th century. I. Title. II. Series.

LC911.Z36L65 2009 371.077—dc22 2009011583

ISSN 1570-3754 ISBN 978 90 04 17542 6

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, translated, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without prior written permission from the publisher.

Authorization to photocopy items for internal or personal use is granted by Koninklijke Brill NV provided that the appropriate fees are paid directly to The Copyright Clearance Center, 222 Rosewood Drive, Suite 910, Danvers, MA 01923, USA. Fees are subject to change. printed in the netherlands contents v

CONTENTS

List of illustrations ...... ix A note on transliteration ...... xi A note on my partners in conversation ...... xi A note on the research context ...... xi Abbreviations ...... xiii Glossary ...... xv Maps ...... xix

Foreword: Falling in love with Zanzibar ...... xxv

1. Introduction: The negotiation of Islam in Africa ...... 1

2. Zanzibar: The historical setting ...... 11 2.1. The Sultanate of Zanzibar ...... 11 2.2. Colonial times ...... 15 2.3. Questions of race ...... 22 2.4. Zama za siasa—The time of politics ...... 34 2.5. The revolution in Zanzibar in 1964 and beyond: mapinduzi daima? ...... 45

3. Traditions of reform, reforms of tradition ...... 61 3.1. The negotiation of Islamic reform in East Africa ...... 61 3.2. The Qādiriyya ...... 74 3.3. The Alawiyya ...... 92 3.4. The Salafiyya ...... 100 3.5. ‘Medina graduates’ and ‘watu wa bidaa’ ...... 116

4. Islamic education in Zanzibar: the development of the canon ...... 149 4.1. The negotiation of Islamic education ...... 149 4.2. Qur ānic schools, madāris and alab al-ilm: from ubao to blackboard ...... 163 4.3. The canon ofalab al-ilm studies: the early 20th century 173 4.4. The canon ofalab al-ilm studies: the early 21st century 201 vi contents

5. The politics of education in the colonial period I: schools 215 5.1. Introduction: the pillars of colonial education ...... 215 5.2. Mission schools ...... 217 5.3. ‘The torch-bearers of education’: the Indian schools . . . . . 222 5.4. The ‘Koran’ schools: only ‘parrot talk’? ...... 244 5.5. Government schools: the wonders of colonial numerology ...... 269

6. The politics of education in the colonial period II: syllabuses and languages ...... 289 6.1. The establishment ofKizungu education ...... 289 6.2. Rivers-Smith and the quest for a position (1905-1921) . . . 292 6.3. Hendry and the quest for a syllabus (1921-1939) ...... 300 6.4. From Foster to Hann: diāna accomplished (1939-1963) . . 323

7. The politics of education in the colonial period III: teachers ...... 339 7.1. Development of staff, recruitment and training ...... 339 7.2. Colonial teachers I: between snubbery and snobbery . . . . 346 7.3. Colonial teachers II: Abdallāh āli al-Farsy ...... 375 7.4. Colonial teachers III: Sayyid Umar Abdallāh ...... 400

8. The Muslim Academy ...... 411 8.1. Zanzibar’s firstmahad ...... 411 8.2. 1952-1964: the era of Sayyid Umar Abdallāh ...... 422 8.3. TheChuo Cha Kiislamu (CCK) 1972-2007 ...... 440

9. The politics of Islamic education in revolutionary Zanzibar ...... 461 9.1. The legacy of the revolution I: Islam in revolutionary Zanzibar...... 461 9.2. The legacy of the revolution II: school development . . . . . 468 9.3. The legacy of the revolution III: the Qur ānic schools . . . . 488 9.4. The legacy of the revolution IV: syllabus development . . . 499 9.5. Shule, madrasa and Montessori à la zanzibarienne ...... 508

10. Conclusion: The legacy of Islamic education in Zanzibar 529 contents vii

Appendix ...... 539 I. Zanzibar’s census data...... 539 II. Governments and administrations of Zanzibar ...... 541 III. Zanzibar’s elections in 1961, 1963, 1995 and 2000 ...... 545 IV. School development statistics ...... 546 V. Zanzibar’s primary and secondary school curricula in 1960 ...... 558

Biographical Dictionary ...... 561 1. Prominent Zanzibaris ...... 561 2. Employees in the Department of Education ...... 593 3. Local teachers ...... 600

Sources ...... 601 a. List of interlocutors and locations of conversations . . . . . 601 b. Material used in the Zanzibar National Archive (Nyaraka za Taifa, ZNA) ...... 602 c. Material used in the Public Record Office (PRO). London ...... 611 d. Secondary literature ...... 613 e. General reference ...... 632 f. Periodicals ...... 632

Index ...... 633 viii contents list of illustrations ix

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

1. Shaykh Abd al- Azīz b. Abd al-Ghanī al-Amawī ...... 136 2. Shaykh āhir b. Abī Bakr al-Amawī ...... 136 3. Shaykh Burhān b. Abd al- Azīz b. Abd al-Ghanī al-Amawī ...... 137 4. Sayyid Umar Qullatayn ...... 137 5. Sayyid Amad b. Sumay ...... 138 6. Sayyid Amad b. Alī al-usaynī, ‘Sayyid Manab’ ...... 138 7. Sayyid amīd b. Amad (Manab) al-usaynī ...... 139 8. Shaykh Muammad b. Umar al-Khaīb ...... 139 9. Shaykh Amad b. Muammad Mlomry ...... 140 10. Shaykh Abd al-Raīm b. Mamūd al-Wāshilī ...... 140 11. Sayyid Umar b. Amad b. Sumay ...... 141 12. Some imāms of Gofu mosque, from top left to bottom right: Mwalimu Juma, a brother of amīd Manab (n.n.), Mu allim Bā Kathīr, unknown, Mzee Dahoma, Zagar al-Farsy (head torn out), Mwalimu imīd, Sayyid Amad amīd Manab ...... 141 13. The teachers at Barza, from left: Muyī al-Dīn b. Abd al-Ramān, Abdallāh Mu adhdhin, Mwalimu imīd . . . 142 14. Zanzibar’s first government school teacher from Egypt: Shaykh Abd al-Bāri b. Abd al-Bāri al- Ajīzī, sitting in the centre with tarbush ...... 142 15. Shaykh Muammad Muammad al-Dahhān ...... 143 16. Sayyid Umar Abdallāh ...... 143 17. Shaykh Abdallah āli al-Farsy ...... 144 18. Shaykh Mamūd b. Kombo ...... 144 19. Shaykh Muammad b. Abd al-Ramān al-Makhzūmī . . 145 20. Shaykh Abūbakar b. Abdallah Bā Kathīr ...... 145 21. Some members of the Amīr family, from top left to bottom right: Madaura Kinoo, Abdalbari b. Hafidh Ameir, Haji b. Ameir, Hafidh Ameir, Hamid b. Hafidh Ameir, Salih b. Hija, Ramadhan b. Abbas, asan b. Amīr, Hafidh b. Ameir and Maalim Mbaraka Mzee . . . . 146 22. Shaykh asan b. Amīr ...... 146 x list of illustrations

23. Teachers of the Government Secondary School in the late 1930s: the sixth from left sitting is Lawrence W. Hollingsworth, on his right Georgina Rose Johnson, on his left Amed Sayf al-Kharūī...... 147 a note on transliteration xi

A NOTE ON TRANSLITERATION

The transliteration of Arabic names and terms is following the Encyclopaedia of Islam with some exceptions such as q for and j for dj. Arabic and Kiswahili terms are put into italics, except those are not () ﻁ and () ﺹ .(.ī, Muftī etc frequently used (shaykh, Qā transliterated, in cases of orthographic self-representation, as ‘sw’ and ‘tw’ as is common in Kiswahili, but with the respective diacritics. In order to express the radical break in Zanzibar’s cultural orientation after the revolution of 1964, the names of scholars and persons who are firmly associated with post-revolutionary times arenot reproduced, however, with diacritics any more (i.e. Muhammad instead of Muammad, Ali instead of Alī), but according to the conventions of post-revolutionary orthographic self-representation. Dates are given according to the Gregorian calendar and correspond to the Franco-Germanic day-month-year calculation: 12.8.2007 = 12 August 2007, not the British-US-American month-day-year system: August 12th, 2007 or 8-12-2007, except in quotations. All italics in the text, in particular, within quotations, are my own emphasis.

A NOTE ON MY PARTNERS IN CONVERSATION

Due to the fact that numerous issues discussed in the present work are regarded as sensitive in Zanzibar all data on conversations have been translated into a random code. The list of interlocutors (IC) as presented in the sources does not translate thus into the code numbers of conversations (and dates) in the text.

A NOTE ON THE RESEARCH CONTEXT

This book has been written in the context of a research project at the University of Bayreuth titled ‘Islamic education in East Africa between local and global influences’ as part of the Collaborative xii a note on the research context

Research Project 560 ‘Local Agency in Africa in the context of global influences’ as financed by the German Research Foundation (Deutsche Forschungsgemeinschaft, DFG). I would like to thank the DFG for support in this project of research. Equally, I would like to express my gratitude to my colleagues at Bayreuth, the President and the chancellor of Bayreuth University as well as the administration and colleagues of the University of Bamberg, in particular, Prof. Dr. Rotraud Wielandt. Equally, I would like to thank Prof. Dr. Tilman Nagel of the Institute of Arabic Studies at the University of Göttingen and Prof. Dr. Ulrike Freitag at the Zentrum Moderner Orient in Berlin for support in times of crisis: Shukran jazīlan! contents xiii

ABBREVIATIONS

AA Arab Association AfA African Association AKF Aga Khan Foundation ASA Afro-Shirazi Association ASP Afro Shirazi Party ASPYL ASP Youth League ASU Afro Shirazi Union CCK Chuo Cha Kiislamu CCM Chama Cha Mapinduzi (Party of the Revolution) CGA Clove Growers’ Association CUF Civic United Front (A)DoE (Assistant) Director of Education DeptoE Department of Education FIM Friends’ Industrial Mission GCS Government Central School GPS Government Primary School GSS Government Secondary School HGM Holy Ghost Mission INA Indian National Association IRI Islamic Religious Instruction (‘Diāna’) LegCo Legislative Council MRC Madrasa Resource Centre PRO Public Record Office RMS Rural Middle School (Dole) SESM Sir Euan Smith Madrasa TTC, TTS Teacher Training College, Teacher Training School UMCA Universities’ Mission to Central Africa ZNA Zanzibar National Archive ZNP, ZNU Zanzibar National Party, Zanzibar National Union ZPPP Zanzibar and Pemba People’s Party xiv contents glossary xv

GLOSSARY

āda customary law, (uūl al-)fiqh Islamic legal theory tradition (German: fitna chaos, disorder, ‘Brauch’) disunity adab, pl. ādāb good manners, furū , sg. far branch, section, refinement; literature subdivision (of law) adhān adīth, pl. (mu adhdhin) call to prayer aādīth the (discipline of) (Muezzin) Prophetic traditions akhlāq ( ilm al-) morals, ethics ajj (ājj) pilgrimage (pilgrim) ālim, pl. ulamā religious scholar alqa, pl. alaqāt circle (of students aqīda confession (of the around their faith); catechetic teacher); class, theology lecture arū prosody, metrics araka speed (of recitation) ar afternoon prayer āshiya, pl. ( ilm al-)balāgha rhetoric, good style awāshin super-commentary baraka blessing power awl annual commemora- ( ilm al-)bayān rhetoric tive prayers/rituals bid a, pl. bida (un-Islamic) of a person´s death innovation ijāb amulet; protection darsa class isāb calculation, da wa call; propaganda arithmetic (dā iya, ‘missionary’) izb, azāb group; part (60th of dhikr Sufi meditation the Qur ān) exercises, ceremony, ibādāt (pl.) acts of devotion; ritual (Swahili: religious obligations zikri) īd, pl. a yād festival day (such as diāna Islamic Religious īd al-kabīr/al-a ā Instruction and īd al-fir, the (‘Islamics’) feast of immolation du ā supplication, and the feast of supererogatory breaking the prayer Ramadan fahm understanding, ijāza authorization (to comprehension represent and/or to fajr (ub) morning (prayers) teach a text) ( ilm al-)falak (knowledge of the) ilm, pl. ulūm discipline (of stars, astrology, learning), science astronomy īmām leader (of prayers) falsafa philosophy īmān faith fatwā, pl. fatāwā formal (yet, not imlā dictation binding) legal inshā composition opinion irshād right, correct, proper fiqh Islamic law, guidance (German: jurisprudence ‘Rechtleitung’) xvi glossary

ishā night prayer maaf, muaf book, text; the holy ilā reform text of the Qur ān iilā usage, term; (seen as a ‘book’) terminus technicus masjid, pl. juz , pl. ajzā part, portion (30th masājid mosque (Swahili: part of the Qur ān) mskiti) kalām theological matn, pl. mutūn (basic) text disputation mawlid (al-nabī) (the celebration of khalīfa successor; deputy the) Prophet’s khaīb preacher (of the birthday (Swahili: Friday sermon: maulidi) khuba) mīrāth (pl. khatma recital of the entire mawārīth) inheritance (laws of Qur ān (Swahili: division of hitimu) inheritance) kha (hand)writing, script mu āmalāt obligations regarding kuttāb, pl. katātīb qur ānic school human mutual (Swahili: chuo, pl. relations (Islamic vyuo) law) law slate (Swahili: ubao) mukhtaarāt (pl.) comprehensive lugha language (discipline presentations, of learning) concise versions (of ( ilm al-)ma ānī rhetoric larger texts) mabādi basics, foundations, muftī legal expert; official introductory (texts, expounder of Islamic of, for instance, law) law mad (al-nabī) praise (poem for the mu īn (-ūn) assistant, helper Prophet) muqarrar syllabus, curriculum madhhab, pl. muqri reciter (of the madhāhib school of Islamic Qur ān) jurisdiction and legal musā id assistant, helper thinking (al-)mutāla a (-āt) reading, studying madrasa, pl. muwā ada meeting; rendez- madāris school vous; arrangement maghrib here: evening naw grammar (prayer) qā ī, pl. qu āh judge ma had, pl. qaīda, pl. qaā id poem ma āhid institute qawā id, sg. manqūlāt the revealed qā ida foundations, base, disciplines of Islamic principle, rule learning qirā a reading; recitation; manab the holder of an punctuation and office or appoint- vocalization of the ment, a position or Qur ān rank rātib litany of prayers, maniq logic (discipline), prayers in honour of phonetics e.g. a well-known ma qūlāt the ‘rational’ scholar disciplines of Islamic riyā a, riyā āt exercises learning riyā iyyāt mathematics ma rifa knowledge, insight alāt prayer glossary xvii

arf morphology, ta rīkh history inflection arīqa, pl. uruq Sufi brotherhood shahāda confession of the taqārīr (pl.) summarizing faith accounts shar, pl. shurū commentary taawwuf Sufism sharī a (the principles of) tawassul plea, intercession Islamic law tawīd dogmatic theology shar, pl. shurū conditions, clauses ibb medicine shaykh, pl. tilāwa reading, recitation shuyūkh honorific title ummuhāt ‘mothers’: central sīra biography (of the life texts of a canon of the Prophet) urf customary law, ub (fajr) morning prayer tradition (Brauch) sūra, pl. suwar chapter, sūra of the ustādh, pl. Qur ān asātidha professor ta ālīq (pl.) glosses, glossaries, waqf, pl. awqāf charitable comments foundation tafsīr exegesis (translation (alāt al-)witr supererogatory and interpretation) prayer during of the Qur ān Ramadan tafī' memorisation (of the zāwiya, pl. Qur ān) zawāya Sufi convent, centre tajdīd reform, ziyāra, pl. ziyārāt local pilgrimage, re-juvenation shrine pilgrimage tajwīd the rules of recita- (German: tion (of the Qur ān) ‘Wallfahrt’) takrīr repetition 'uhr noon prayer alab al- ilm the quest for knowledge ālib, pl. ullāb student talqīn catechism (alāt al-)tarāwī supererogatory prayer during Ramadan, prayed after ishā tarbiya education, formation (German: ‘Geistes- und Herzensbildung’) xviii glossary xix

MAPS

1. The Zanzibar archipelago (Roman Loimeier) 2. Zanzibar Stone Town (adapted and modified from Siravo 1996: 102) 3. The ‘learned heart of Zanzibar’ (adapted, enlarged and modified from Siravo 1996: 102) 4. The schools of late colonial Zanzibar (adapted and modified from Siravo 1996: 102) xx xxi

1–Zanzibar Town 2–Nungwi 3–Mkokotoni 4–Mkwajuni 5–Chwaka 6–Chukwani 7–Unguja Ukuu 8–Kizimkazi 9–Makunduchi 10–Mkoani 11–Chake Chake 12–Wete

Map 1. The Zanzibar archipelago (Roman Loimeier) xxii

0–Bait al- Ajā ib 1–Jaws’ Corner (Soko Mohogo) 2–Baghani 3–Forodhani 4–Shangani 5–Vuga 6–Mkunazini 7–Ng’ambo areas 8–Darajani 9–Kokoni 10–Malindi 11–Kiponda 12–Hurumzi 13–Hamamni

Map 2. Zanzibar Stone Town (adapted and modified from Siravo 1996: 102) xxiii

Map 3. The ‘learned heart of Zanzibar’ (adapted, enlarged and modified from Siravo 1996: 102)

The major mosques/madāris in the Hamamni, Ukutani and Mkunazini quarters: Madrasat Bākathīr (1), Madrasat al-Nūr (2), Mskiti Barza (3), Madrasat al-Imān (4), Mskiti Jibrin (5), Mskiti Ruta (6), Mskiti Ali wa Dadi ‘Babu’ (7) Mskiti Gofu (8), Mskiti Binti Juma (9), Sunni Memon Madrasa (10), anafi mosque (11), Mskiti Barwani (12), Mskiti Shaksi (13), Nyumba Qullatayn (14), Mskiti Hamamni (15), Madrasat ujjatul Islām (16), Karimji Hall (17), Mskiti Maawil Lamki (18), Ma had Riyāmī (19), Mskiti Maamur (20), Mskiti Jumbe (21). xxiv

1– ‘Beit el-Ras’ (1956) Sayyid Khalifa/Sayyida Nunuu Colleges (4 km north of Zanzibar) 2– King George VI College (1958, Saateni) 3– Arab Town School (1905) 4– GCS (1908) Commercial (1925) GCS 1925 to Vuga Darajani PS 5– Arabic School (1956) Vikokotoni SS 6– SESM (–1950) Muslim Academy (1952-1965) 7– Bohora School 8– Comorian School (Kajificheni) 9– Sunni Memon Madrasa

10– St. Monica’s 11– Aga Khan Boys’s School (Taasisi) 12– SESM (from 1950) 13– GCS (from 1925)/ GSS (boys, 1933) Sayyida Matuka SS (girls, from 1958) 14– St. Joseph’s Convent Tumekuja SS

Map 4. The schools of late colonial Zanzibar (adapted and modified from Siravo 1996: 102) foreword xxv

FOREWORD FALLING IN LOVE WITH ZANZIBAR

When I came to Zanzibar for the first time in my life in early 2001, my original intention was not to stay long but rather to use Zanzibar as a convenient stop-over for ‘real’ research in mainland Tanzania. After having done research on the development of Islamic education and the interaction of Islamic reformist movements with Sufi brotherhoods in Northern Nigeria in the 1980s and Senegal in the 1990s, my intention was to add another big country, namely Tanzania, to that list. In particular, I wanted to see whether it would be possible to discover significant differences as well as similarities in the development of modern Islamic education in those three countries and to then try to analyze the structures hidden beyond superficial similarities or disparities. Alas, from the very first minute of my stay, I fell in love with Zanzibar, although, this has to be mentioned as well, political circumstances, at that period of time, were rather dire, and have remained dire until the present day: in late 2000, the government of the Chama Cha Mapinduzi (CCM), which had been in power since the 1964 revolution, had forged the results of the Presidential elections, as it would do again in 2005, and resulting popular protests, in particular on the island of Pemba, had been brutally sup- pressed (see Bakari 2001 as well as Sheriff, Deutsch and Hirschler 2003). Still, never before in my life as a researcher had I had this experience of love for a place at first sight and, thus I decided to wait and see whether this impression would last. I introduced myself to a number of colleagues, contacted the Zanzibar National Archive (ZNA), said ‘hello’ here and there and told everybody who was interested what kind of research I intended to do on my next visit to Zanzibar, in summer 2002. Also, I started to improve my rather poor command of Kiswahili by practicing with a private teacher in order to be able to conduct proper conversations in Kiswahili during my next stay. After some days of rather relaxed non-research and meetings with different and always friendly people, I realized that I had mentally cancelled my original plans for research in mainland Tanzania and wanted to remain in Zanzibar. This decision was xxvi foreword encouraged by the warm reception I received at the ZNA where I was more or less forced to start reading on my chosen topic, although my original intention had been to heed the Swahili saying, haraka, haraka, haina baraka: ‘there is no blessing in speed’. It was, however, not only the atmosphere at the ZNA that more or less forced me to start work, but also a number of other incentives that caused me to change my original intention of just getting some orientation first. Thus, I was lucky to meet, in Stone Town as well as at the ZNA, a number of colleagues such as Farouk Topan and Georg Deutsch who, in the context of walks through Stone Town as well as during long evening discussions, provided me with a quick-start introduction to Zanzibar’s history as well as contemporary developments. Secondly, I was also lucky to meet, again through the National Archive, a number of eminent local scholars such as Professor Abdul Sheriff, Dr. Khamis S. Khamis and Dr. Issa Ziddy, who were extremely helpful and, in fact, forced me to do at least some research, to ask questions and to meet people; finally, my decision to practice my Kiswahili turned out to be a rather shaking experience with respect to my original intention of just doing a bit of language training, as my teacher, Mwalimu Ramadhani, forced me, with immense pedagogical and didactic expertise, to actually sit down and learn. Learning Kiswahili on the small roof terrace of the Spice Inn Guest House and, later in my flats in Baghani, Kajificheni and Malindi, was a very different experience of learning from learning Kiswahili in Bayreuth, the ‘metropolis of Bavarian Siberia’. As a consequence, I came to love the working sessions with my teacher. In my euphoria, I began to greet the people I met every day during my walks through Stone Town and to start conversations with them. And although in the beginning these efforts at conversation came to a quick end, as my vocabulary was still rather small, these conversations as well as my vocabulary developed surprisingly well in the course of time. My experience of intensive, yet relaxed, research and learning was repeated during my next visits to Zanzibar in July-September 2002, in February/March and July/August 2003, in July-September 2004 and in July-September 2007. In 2007, I also had the chance to visit the island of Pemba and in 2003, 2004 and 2007 I made several trips to Tanga, the Usambara Mountains, Bagamoyo and Dar es Salaam. During my stays in Zanzibar, I profited tremendously from talks with local scholars who provided me with multifaceted insights into the intricacies of Islamic education in Zanzibar. Of particular importance foreword xxvii were the meetings with Mwalimu Idris in his private archive in Shangani. Equally important was the support and the inspiration I got from Yunus A. Sameja. Masoud Ahmad Shani as well as Issa Ziddy were also extremely helpful and tried to guide me on the irā al-mustaqīm (the straight path) of knowledge and to give me irshād (correct guidance, Rechtleitung) with respect to the multitude of often confusing and conflicting stories that I came across in the context of my own alab al-ilm (search for knowledge). I was particularly overwhelmed by Yunus A. Sameja’s support, who sat down with me for hours to discuss texts and the intricacies of Islamic learning, although he had his own bookshop to manage. Another source of support was Mr. Karimji’s copy shop in Mkunazini which provided a very relaxed atmosphere for my task of copying important documents from the ZNA (with the permission of the ZNA), which have subsequently been deposited in the archival collection ‘Islam in Africa’ at the University of Bayreuth. In exchange, I was able to invite some of my interlocutors in Zanzibar to Germany as ‘visiting professors’, thanks to funds from the German Research Foundation, and to continue discussions with them in our archival collection in Bayreuth. An equally important pillar of cooperation was an international conference in Zanzibar in February 2003 on ‘The Global Worlds of the Swahili’, organized by my colleague Rüdiger Seesemann and myself with financial support from the ‘Prince Claus Fund’ (Netherlands). The edited volume titledThe Global Worlds of the Swahili that resulted from this conference is listed in the bibliography. Both Rüdiger and I made a point of using available funds to invite African colleagues, while asking European and North-American colleagues to provide for their own travel budgets. In this way, for a period of almost one week we were able to convene more than forty colleagues from Tanzania, Kenya, Uganda and a number of Northern countries, as well as a number of local scholars and thinkers from Zanzibar, including the local media, and to discuss the multiple worlds of the Swahili in both contemporary and historical perspectives in a very inspiring atmosphere. However, a paradise would be rather incomplete without a snake. The snake in Zanzibar’s paradise of academic research is the culture of mashindano (rivalry, competition, strife) between local scholars and colleagues. As Zanzibar’s scholars have only marginal access to funds, positions or avenues of promotion, they guard knowledge jealously and have developed intricate strategies of exclusion and xxviii foreword

manipulation of possible competitors. This culture of mashindano extends to colleagues from Europe, Japan and North America, as well as Arab countries. Any piece of information or knowledge passed on to somebody else is regarded as a loss of valuable (intellectual) property that a ‘rival’ scholar might use to his own advantage. Thus, an atmosphere of envy and suspicion pervades academic research in Zanzibar. Foreigners are sooner or later drawn into a maze of intrigues and networks of competition, as virtually every scholar or network of scholars tries to monopolize links with outside scholars: outsiders are particularly viewed as sources of revenue and as door- openers to the vast resources of the ‘North’. Most colleagues from European, Japanese and North American institutions of research have been quite willing, in the past, to provide support to local colleagues, as such support is usually regarded as an asset by their respective home universities. However, as soon as these European and North American colleagues opened up access to academic resources (funds, books, grants, travel allowances, technical hard- and software, etc.) to a larger range of Zanzibari counterparts, they encountered the protest or silent resistance of their Zanzibari colleagues who expected to be privileged receivers of these goods which were not to be shared among a range of possible competitors. The wide distribution of material goods is seen thus by many Zanzibaris as a form of treason to one’s owns privileged academic partnership. This form of treason was sometimes answered by Zanzibari scholars, both religious and academic, with exclusion, disinformation and even intrigue. Information was no longer provided, other scholars were discredited more or less openly as unreliable, homosexuals or spies; appointments suddenly failed to be kept, and problems cropped up that created more problems. Efforts to stay neutral in this maze of alliances and networks, which were in turn informed by diverse political, religious and regional orientations, were complicated as affiliation with a specific group was often interpreted in terms of inclusion and exclusion, to the extent that being friendly with a specific person or group precluded contact with other persons or groups. The atmosphere of suspicion and intrigue, the culture of mashindano among Zanzibari colleagues has also prevented cooperation among Zanzibari scholars and blocked the development of a culture of academic exchange in Zanzibar. As a consequence, Zanzibari scholarship will continue to lose ground in the international academic world and is in danger of becoming insignificant. Indeed, almost all major foreword xxix works of research have been written by outsiders and real change is not to be expected soon. The frustrating demise of Zanzibari scholarship became even more tangible in 2007, when I learned that the Zanzibar National Archive had fallen into a kind of stupor following the abrupt retirement of Professor Abdul Sheriff in 2005 and the move of several qualified staff to the mainland. The culture of mashindano extends to the interpretation of history. Conflicting interpretations (and reinterpretations), as well as outright inventions of history are a part of local discourses, not only with respect to persons still alive but also with respect to those who are dead: intrigue never sleeps and memories are evoked to interpret historical legacies. History (as well as the present) is thus like an onion: it has many skins, many layers of truth, and the researcher who enters this minefield of slander, intrigue, distortion, invention and interpretation has a hard time to get through the smokescreens of multiple narratives. At the same time, it has to be stressed that these constructions of history are fascinating and make research in Zanzibar a thrilling enterprise. The best way to come to terms with differing perceptions of reality is to see differing perceptions of history as a sort of play, or as a riddle that has to be solved. Taking part in this play may seem to be rather frustrating in the beginning, but this is just another skin of the onion. Equally, this text does not rule out other interpretations and in many places it is made clear that diverging interpretations are possible. The history of Islamic education in Zanzibar is thus open to further comment and will continue to be so, in particular when thinking about family archives (and memories), or the material in private custody that still awaits recording and analysis, with respect, for instance, to the history of single schools or mosques, or the biographies of specific scholars and their networks. There have been many instances in the course of my research when I realized that I would have liked to find out more about a specific family, a scholar, an event or a scandal, yet often it was impossible to collect more data, due to absence of material in the ZNA for instance, but also due to failing memories, the lapse of time or simply discretion. In these cases, I have refrained from speculation and ask the reader to be patient with the dry data presented here: they form part of a puzzle and do not constitute the complete picture of Islamic education in Zanzibar. In fact, research on Islamic education in Zanzibar to date has been rather one-sided. Thus, there are numerous studies on Zanzibar’s history, in particular the slave xxx foreword trade and economic history, and a considerable number of studies in the fields of anthropology and political science (see bibliography). Also, earlier traditions of learning have attracted interest and have been discussed thoroughly in Anne Bang’s work on Amad b. Sumay, Valerie Hoffman’s work on Abd al- Azīz b. Abd al-Ghanī al-Amawī or Jean-Claude Penrad’s work on the Madrasat al-Nūr. Alas, there has been only one study on social and religious developments in contemporary Zanzibar (Unguja) by Allyson Purpura, though more recent work with a focus on Pemba by Elizabeth McMahon and Corrie Decker was forthcoming in 2007. Apart from Issa Ziddy’s pioneering work (2001) on the Islamic curriculum in Zanzibar’s secondary school education, and Turki’s thesis (1987) on education in the colonial period (up to 1945) that had a strong emphasis on mission schools, there has not been done much on the development of Islamic education in colonial and post-colonial times. Thus Turki’s remark made in 1987 still applies today: Education has scarcely been treated in accounts of modern Zanzibar history. In fact, the development of government educational policy in respect of the various ethnic and religious groups, and the effects of education itself are subjects that have been surprisingly neglected by both historians and educationalists (Turki 1987: 12). In view of the scarcity of research on colonial and post-colonial Islamic education, I thus decided to stay in Zanzibar and to write my book on this very topic. Secondly, I decided to write this book in English. To colleagues in the Anglophone world who have always been writing in English, this may not sound very exciting, but for Germanophone scholars it is an important issue. Writing in English is not only still uncommon but it also triggers discussions about the increasing dominance of English as a global language. Alas, my intention was not to weaken the position of German and to strengthen the position of English, but to make research results accessible to my colleagues in Zanzibar and to give them the opportunity to discuss what I had found on the development of Islamic education. Finally, I would like to express my gratitude to all friends and colleagues in Zanzibar who not only enabled me to do research but who, in fact, forced me to sit down and work and who convinced me to do it in Zanzibar and not in mainland Tanzania. Of course, Professor Dr. Abdul Sheriff has to be mentioned first, but apart from him I would also like to thank (in alphabetical order) a number of foreword xxxi other colleagues and friends such as Abdulkadir Hashim, Mwalimu Idris, Mwalimu Ramadhani Kututwa, Yunus A. Sameja, Masoud Ahmad Shani, Farouk Topan and Issa Ziddy who have been tremendously supportive.1 Equally, I would like to express my deepest gratitude to a number of colleagues and friends who have taken pains to read and comment on a series of draft versions of the text, or parts of it, in particular (in alphabetical order again), Chanfi Ahmed, Anne Bang, Sauda Barwani, Katrin Bromber, Sören Gilsaa, Valerie Hoffman, Mwalimu Idris, Kai Kresse, Bi Saada Meffert, Hassan Mwakimako, Norbert Oberauer, Yunus Sameja, Ridder Samson, Abdul Sheriff, Farouk Topan and Issa Ziddy. Also, I would like to express my gratitude to Omar Sheha (Zanzibar National Archive) and my colleague at the Zentrum Moderner Orient in Berlin, Hassan Mwakimako for helping me to translate and to correct my translation of a plethora of Kiswahili texts, mostly archival material, pamphlets and newspapers, into proper English. Finally, I would like to thank Ruth Schubert, who did a great job as language editor. Any mistakes remaining in the text are due to my own shortcomings.

1 In total, I was able to conduct, between 2001 and 2008, more than 450 conversations with more than 100 interlocutors in Zanzibar and beyond (see the list of interlocutors in the bibliography). Most of these conversations were personal conversations, sometimes discussions over texts I had prepared, sometimes an exchange of letters or e-mail-communication. xxxii contents introduction: the negotiation of islam in africa 1

CHAPTER ONE

INTRODUCTION THE NEGOTIATION OF ISLAM IN AFRICA

Muslim societies in sub-Saharan Africa as elsewhere in the Muslim world have been characterized by their staggering diversity, not only with respect to different cultural expressions of ‘Islamicité’, but also vastly different historical experiences, their variegated integration into different regional geographic settings as well as the dynamics of interaction with Christian, Jewish and other religious traditions. The differences among Muslim communities in Africa and the Muslim world as such are not only to be explained, however, by historical, regional, geographical or cultural forces or their respective modes of interaction with other religious traditions. Their diversity is also connected with the fact that the acceptance of Islam as a religion is and has always been a selective process. In this process of selective and situative adoption and enculturation of Islam, some elements of the faith have been taken over completely in some regions, while being stressed less in other regions at the same time (or even in the same society at another time). Thus, the norms of Islamic law were accepted by the Berber tribes of the western Sahara under the influence of the Almoravid movement of reform in the 11th century, whereas they have found less or only marginal acceptance in other parts of Africa, where the established norms of customary law (urf or āda) have remained valid to this day, and were often not regarded as contradicting the prescriptions of the sharī a. Yet, even when the norms of the sharīa were adopted as legal foundations of a specific society, strange interpretations of the sharīa could occur. After a successful jihād against the ‘pagan’ Bambara state of Segu in sub-Saharan West Africa that resulted in the establishment of the Imāmate of Masina in 1818, the sharīa became the exclusive legal foundation of this ‘Islamic’ empire. Masina society was characterized, however, by the comparatively strong position of women. As a consequence, the Muslim scholars of Masina did not dare to fully implement sharīa, particularly with respect to the so-called add-punishments as fixed in the Qur ān. When a 2 chapter one woman had been found guilty of a crime punishable according to udūd laws, it was not the woman who was punished, but, according to the rules of legal procedure as practiced in Masina, an item in her possession. According to Amadou Hampaté Bā, the prescribed flogging was enforced ‘sur le toit de sa case ou sur un objet lui appartenant et la touchant de près. Ce simulacre public était aussi humiliant pour la coupable que si le châtiment lui avait été administré réellement’ (Bā 1955: 49). The process of Islamization thus has to be characterized as a process of gradual and selective enculturation and contextualization of the different aspects of the greater framework of ‘Islam’. This process was accompanied by crises and relapses and consequently never came to an end. A major element in the discourse of ‘Wahhābī’ scholars in Arabia in the 18th century, for instance, was that the Bedouins of the Arabian peninsula had allegedly fallen back, as far as their faith was concerned, into the times of pre-Islamic jāhiliyya (ignorance, heathendom), an argument which was taken up by Sayyid Qub, the 20th century Egyptian thinker of radical Islam in his analysis of contemporary Muslim society (see Qub 1981). Both Wahhābis and Qub accordingly advocated a movement of renewal of the faith. Despite their differences in regional, historical and cultural terms, Muslim communities and societies in Africa (as well as in Asia) are viewed as ‘Islamicate’ (see Hodgson 1974) communities, as Islam indeed constitutes a frame of reference common to all Muslims (Gaffney 1994: 30). In order to explain this paradoxical notion of unity within diversity, Islam should be visualized as a great pool or corpus of texts, of interpretations of texts, of prescriptions concerning the faith and/or everyday life, of shared rituals, norms and values, as well as teaching traditions that were again based on a number of basic texts such as the Qur ān, the sunna of the Prophet, and a large number of legal and theological texts (see Cooke/Lawrence 2005: 5ff). This corpus was continually interpreted and re-interpreted. Due to its immensity it was always adopted only partially and selectively, and even religious scholars were usually familiar with only parts of the corpus of Islamic teachings. They specialized in specific aspects such as Islamic law (fiqh) and granted ijāzāt (authorizations) of teaching to their students for a specific text or parts of such a text only. Beyond scholarly circles, knowledge of specific theological positions or aspects of the law, Islamic history or philosophy was even smaller. In addition, not all aspects or components of the corpus introduction: the negotiation of islam in africa 3 were equally stressed in Muslim societies at all times: in one scholarly tradition, for instance, Sufism taawwuf( ) could be stressed, while another tradition might focus on fiqh (jurisprudence). This could change in the course of time. In Zanzibar, the syllabus for Islamic education has moved from a stress on fiqh in the late 19th century to a stress on aqīda and adīth in the late 20th century (see chapter 4). The situative and selective realization of Islam does not imply that Islam was perceived and discussed, in a specific society and a specific period of time, in small, disconnected or even distorted bits and pieces. Each Muslim society should rather be seen, as Talal Asad has pointed out, as a distinctive and coherent set of ‘discursive traditions’, even if these discursive traditions were not the same in all Muslim societies (Asad 1986: 14). All of them referred, however, to a corpus of ‘Islamic general knowledge’, a pool of widely accepted and known ‘core’ places such as Mecca, Medina, al-Quds, or Siffin, the site of a famous battle in 656 between Alī and Mu wiya over the question of the Caliphate, ‘core’ icons and symbols such as the calligraphic representation of the name of the Prophet Muammad, iconic representation of saints such as Abd al-Qādir al-Jīlānī or amulets ( ijāb), as well as ‘core’ religious discourses such as, for instance, over the question as to which conditions, shurū, validate or suspend religious obligations such as fasting or the pilgrimage. This canon1 of ‘Islamic general knowledge’ was and is familiar to most Muslims up to this day and formed a frame of reference that we may call, with Robert Redfield, a ‘greater tradition’. In contrast to Redfield, I understand this great(er) tradition of Islam as not being confined to an elite of the ‘reflective (urban) few’ but as being shared by the ‘unreflective (rural) many’ as mediated by a multitude of brokers. These local little traditions are ‘scriptural’ in the sense that they accept the authority of texts, even if approaches to texts may differ: while Sufis stress the ‘esoteric’ dimension of texts, ‘Wahhābi’-oriented

1 A ‘canon’ is viewed here as the corpus of those texts (symbols, icons etc.) that are regarded as essential for the reproduction of a specific tradition of learning by a particular ‘Auslegungskultur’ (culture of interpretation) in a given period of time. As traditions of learning change, ‘canons’ are negotiated (see also chapters 4.3. and 4.4.). A ‘corpus’ (of texts) may both be larger than a ‘canon’ (of texts) or smaller. 4 chapter one scholars tend to reject the ‘esoteric episteme’ and stress a ‘literalist’ interpretation of texts (see Brenner 2001; see also chapter 3). Due to the fact that Muslims are still able to refer to and to quote from this canon, brokers, such as religious scholars, writers or politicians, are able to conduct meaningful discourses on questions of everyday life or politics and to sanctify and to legitimize these discourses by establishing references to religion. This basic corpus of symbols, icons and discourses may consequently be activated in political conflicts, when Muslim politicians or religious scholars point out, for instance, the trans-temporal importance of the battles of Badr (a small group of Muslims wins a surprising but decisive victory) or Uud (Muslims suffer a serious defeat but recover). Trans-temporal references to the canon of basic texts, ‘lieux de mémoire’ (places of memory), symbols or icons of Muslim history may thus be cultivated for the legitimization of claims of religious superiority of one tradition over another or for the legitimization of a jihād against both non-Muslims and Muslims. The basic instru- mentalizability (Instrumentalisierbarkeit) and interpretability of traditions and texts, of the canon of Islam and Islamic teaching, i.e. the ‘disponabilité’ of traditions, texts and the canon, also disproves essentialist reductions of ‘one static’ Islam and ‘timeless’ Muslim societies. This argument also applies to essentialist readings of the canon by radical and activist Muslim groups such as the Anār al-Sunna movement in contemporary Tanzania: their essentialist positions are informed by a specific context. As soon as the context changes, essentialist readings of texts have to be modified, loss of social influence may otherwise occur. The greater tradition of Islam does not exist thus as an autonomous and never changing social or religious entity. Rather, local actors, often religious scholars, who are familiar with the discursive traditions of Islam as well as locally established concepts of ritual and Islamic teaching, seize the initiative and refer to the greater tradition in order to call for changes in the local context. In the course of these scholarly discourses, established local practices are criticized or even condemned as un-Islamic innovations, bida, with reference to the reformers’ own and often peculiar interpretation of the greater tradition of Islam. Interaction between the greater tradition of Islam and local communities is thus only realized when ‘hard’ references to the canon of the greater tradition are established by local scholars. The greater tradition of Islam constitutes a residual category, activated, introduction: the negotiation of islam in africa 5 quoted and interpreted only selectively and with respect to a specific context at a specific point of time. Equally, the Qur ān and other relevant texts and parts of the canon are not self-explanatory or ‘inherently central’ (Eickelman/Piscatori 1990: 14) for any Muslim society or time, even if they are indispensable points of reference in theological disputes. If not activated or quoted, and translated into ever changing contexts, they would remain dormant. Specific aspects of the greater tradition, in particular, those that are less quotidian, than, for instance, daily prayers, acquire meaning and relevance for a specific society only through a process of negotiation as mediated by a multitude of brokers, scholars, students, traders and pilgrims, or, today, the virtual travellers of the www. In this process of negotiation, specific aspects and interpretations of the canon have to be linked with the respective realities of a Muslim society to acquire social, political and religious relevance (‘Wirkmächtigkeit’). As contexts and frame conditions change, however, interpretation of the texts also changes, and texts and their interpretation have to be situated anew: the ‘contested nature of interpretation is a constitutive part of any Islamic tradition’ (Asad 1986: 14). Muslim societies have to be seen thus as being situated in specific contexts, marked by unique local dynamics and their respective traditions of interaction with the ‘greater’ tradition of Islam, in which each Muslim society, each movement of reform develops its own dialogue with history. The trans-local and trans-temporal canon of ‘Islam’ and the numerous local interpretations and contextualizations of Islam were always interconnected by a number of institutions and groups that acted as brokers. The trans-local experiences of these brokers, scholars or their students, travellers, traders, pilgrims and so on, stimulated processes of reform, of dissidence or of local protest. Reformers often tried to discredit existing local structures by attacking them as being ‘un-Islamic innovations’ that had nothing to do with their own interpretation of Islam, which was perceived in their eyes as much more authentic than a given local interpretation of Islam. The local scholarly establishment rejected this kind of argumentation by accusing the reformers of trying to introduce innovations themselves and thus representing a less authentic interpretation of the faith. The ultimate success or failure of Islamic reform movements in Africa or Asia was consequently not connected so much with convincing theological argumentation on the part of religious scholars, although this argumentation was important with respect to the legitimization 6 chapter one of specific religious and political positions, as with the capability of the rebels (or the scholarly establishment) to respond to existing social, economic or political problems and to win acceptance for their program of reform as leaders of the marginalized, the poor and the oppressed (or, in the case of the establishment, with its ability to deprive such opposition of its social and religious basis). These processes of social, religious and political transformation, often connected with the question as to who would provide irshād (guidance), who would ‘speak’ for Muslims, continued in the 20th century. Especially in the colonial period, Islam again became in many local contexts (but not in all) an ideology of resistance against colonial, Christian, white, European (mostly French and British, sometimes German and Italian) rule. However, the Muslim populations of sub-Saharan Africa also experienced serious social crises in the colonial period, as the processes of modernization that started in colonial times had a strong secularizing character and were often represented by non-Muslim, often Christian elites which stressed their orientation towards Europe or America. In many sub- Saharan African colonies, and later independent states, formerly dominant Muslim populations and elites lost their privileged positions, as in Zanzibar, or were even reduced to marginalized minorities in new nation states dominated by mission educated Christians, as in Kenya. In the context of these processes of modernization, a new series of Islamic reform movements developed in many parts of sub-Saharan Africa, which tried to propagate new concepts of social and religious development for their respective societies. In the context of these endeavours they established references to the sources of inspiration of the time, in particular, the writings and teachings of the Salafiyya movement, i.e. Muammad Abduh and Muammad Rashīd Ri ā, the movement of the Ikhwān al-Muslimīn, the Wahhābī-movement of Arabia, or, more recently, the writings of Abū l-A lā Maudūdī and Sayyid Qub. In the context of these efforts of reform, Islam was interpreted anew and used to discredit existing explanatory paradigms, existing concepts of Islamic society or community, and existing claims to irshād. Equally, the development of traditions of Islamic learning and the presentation of Islamic education in Africa should not be reduced to a false dichotomy of ‘popular Islam’ on the part of those ‘who practice Islam’, and ‘orthodox Islam’ on the part of those ‘who interpret introduction: the negotiation of islam in africa 7

Islam’, although this essentialist construction is still employed in some of the literature pertaining to the subject. Rather, Islamic education in sub-Saharan Africa should be viewed as representing a vast spectrum of different traditions of teaching, and even single traditions of learning were often not quite as homogeneous as represented in the writings of the religious scholars or those of the colonial and some post-colonial Western scholars. Rather, traditions of learning and the numerous local concepts of ‘the straight path’ (al-irā al-mustaqīm) were characterized by debates on the question as to what may be regarded as the correct and relevant interpretation of the faith in general, and social as well as communal development in particular. In addition, local disputes were characterized by multiple claims to irshād. Debates and disputes thus often focused on questions concerning the authenticity and correctness of a certain practice of the faith and issues of daily social and religious life. Yet, crises, conflicts and competition between different traditions of Islamic learning also stimulated processes of negotiation of existing traditions and concepts of community and society that often referred to the great tradition of Islam or to a specific element drawn from the canon, as activated in a specific geographical, political and temporal context. As a consequence, Islam in sub-Saharan Africa represents a bewildering spectrum of the most diverse interpretations and contextualization of the faith. These different conceptualizations of Islam coexist or compete with or fight against each other, but they all refer to the common frame of reference, Islam and the canon of authoritative texts. Social conflicts and disputes concerning the construction and interpretation of local concepts of community and religious life should not only be presented however, as disputes between different teaching traditions that are connected with specific political and economic developments. Social and religious disputes were also connected with the development of networks as well as generations of reformers who attack the teachings and, thus, the authority of elder generations of scholars. In the writings of these reformers, as well as their respective opponents, the topics and obsessions of a specific era and specific social, religious, political and economic backgrounds were manifested. Thus, the question arises not only as to which religious rituals and symbols are propagated or criticized by whom and on the basis of what kind of argumentation, but also in which social and temporal context a specific interpretation and 8 chapter one reinterpretation of these religious rituals and symbols is used for the negotiation of what kind of purpose. At the same time, established traditions of learning and teaching do not simply disappear under the onslaught of reformers. Often, they rise to the challenge of their critics and legitimize their own concepts of social and religious construction. The development of Islamic societies is thus not only characterized by a succession of different traditions of teaching which aspire hegemony of interpretation, but also by a continuous expansion and accumulation of the spectrum of Islamic concepts of society and religious teachings, that again and again, in this process of change, undergo new interpretations and reinterpretations. In the struggle for orientation among Muslims, education has been an important sphere for the negotiation of reform. It is therefore important to look at the way in which different teaching traditions and models of Islamic education have developed in East Africa since the late 19th century, and to look at how different traditions of learning have developed and sought a position in society. The field of education was characterized by numerous disputes among different traditions of teaching. These disputes were reflected on many different levels of social life, for instance, in the conflict between local and trans-local claims with respect to correct guidance, in different concepts of community of the religious scholars, in different models of Islamic education or in discussions concerning the correct Islamic ritual. Again, models of Islamic education were not uniform but re pre sented the dynamics of change from one generation of reformers to the next. A closer look at the presentation of Islamic education reveals that the public image of Islamic education has never had a positive reception in the West since colonial times. In both British and French colonies, learning in Qur ānic schools was often characterized as being ‘without pedagogic value’ or was simply referred to as ‘parrot talk’. However, Islamic education was depicted in a bad light not only by colonial officials, but also by African intellectuals, such as Lamin Sanneh who described the Qur ānic school as a place of punishment and meaningless learning. Yet, although Qur ānic school and madrasa education have repeatedly been characterized as having minimal pedagogical value, judgments such as these have to be regarded as severely biased. The outlook of both colonial officers as well as colonial academics was usually connected with colonial introduction: the negotiation of islam in africa 9 politics and often they were not interested in presenting the social role of the Qur ānic schools and madāris and their teaching methods objectively. Rather, the ‘moral conquest’ of the African colonies was foremost in their minds. In the eyes of the colonial functionaries, Qur ānic schools simply did not convey the skills that were appreciated by the colonial administration. This attitude with respect to Islamic education was adopted by the modernizing elites of many postcolonial African states, which also stressed the importance of marketable skills. Established forms of Islamic education continued to be seen and depicted as obsolete even after independence. As a consequence, postcolonial regimes actively supported the development of Islamic reform movements in the sphere of education. These Muslim movements of reform advocated modern forms of Islamic education which more often than not were simply copies of secular and/or Christian education systems and were often subsumed under the term ‘Islamic Religious Instruction’ (IRI) or diānāt (‘Islamics’, sg. diāna). Under these circumstances, it was not surprising that the representatives of established traditions of learning, the ulamā , were pushed into an increasingly marginal position. Under attack from several sides, the ulamā , especially those affiliated with a Sufi brotherhood, started to fight back, developed new forms of Islamic education and defended their conception of education. Thus, they strove to maintain their claim to social as well as religious ‘Deutungshoheit’, their claim to irshād, to define what was right and wrong. As this claim was never easily accepted by Muslim reformers, discussions with respect to the development of Islamic education reflected general disputes in a specific society. On the following pages some dimensions of these disputes concerning the construction and interpretation of society will be presented with respect to the development of Islamic education in Zanzibar in the 20th century. The development of Islamic education can be understood properly only, however, when seen in the larger political and social context, which will be presented in chapter 2. I will then look, in chapter 3, at the emergence of different orientations of Islamic reform in East Africa in general and Zanzibar in particular, and then show, in chapter 4, how concepts of Islamic education and the canon of texts have changed in this period of time. In chapters 5, 6 and 7 I will proceed to show how the colonial administration has not only tried to manipulate Islamic education in Zanzibar and 10 chapter one to establish a secular government system of education, but also how Muslim scholars have managed to divert these colonial policies and to assert their own positions within the colonial framework. In chapter 8, I will focus on the development of Zanzibar’s first modern institution of higher Islamic learning, namely, the Muslim Academy, as established in 1952, which was closed down by the revolutionary government of Zanzibar in 1965, then reopened as the Chuo Cha Kiislamu (CCK) in 1972, and finally dissolved in 2007. In the last chapter, I will present the course of Islamic education in the context of ‘revolutionary politics’ and show how Islamic scholarship has survived even under these austere circumstances. At the end of the text, the reader will find an appendix that not only contains statistical material and a comprehensive overview over the sources I used in the ZNA, but also a biographical overview of more than 200 personalities who have more or less decisively influenced the politics of Islamic education in Zanzibar in the 20th century. Zanzibar: the historical setting 11

CHAPTER TWO

ZANZIBAR: THE HISTORICAL SETTING

2.1. The Sultanate of Zanzibar

The history of the East African coast and Zanzibar in particular has been the topic of many authoritative texts. Zanzibar’s historical development will therefore be presented here only in as far as it has been important for the development of Islamic education in Zanzibar since the late 19th century. Indeed, Islamic education cannot be understood in isolation from its historical setting and the social, political and economic structures of a specific period of time. The historical context of Zanzibar’s development from the late 19th century to the early 21st century will thus form the focus of this chapter: after a short introduction to the history of Zanzibar under the Sultanate of Oman in the 19th century, a more extensive analysis of the colonial framework of Zanzibar’s political development under the British Protectorate (1890-1963) will be presented, to be followed by a discussion of the role played in the colonial period by the major ‘racial’ and communitarian groups and associations, namely ‘Arabs’, ‘Indians’ and ‘Africans’. These groups dominated late colonial politics in Zanzibar during the ‘time of politics’ (zama za siasa) in the 1950s, which is discussed in a next step, before concluding this chapter with an account of the history of Zanzibar after the revolution of 1964. Three periods of political development (sultanate, protectorate and revolution) thus informed the destinies of both Muslim scholars and religious institutions and were decisive for the development of Islamic education in this period of time. When looking at the East African coast in general, and Zanzibar in particular, established wisdom attributes major importance to the emergence as a regional power of the seaborne Sultanate of Muscat- Oman in the late 17th century. In an alliance with a number of East African coastal settlements, Oman was able to oust the Portuguese from most parts of the northern and central coast. Internal troubles in Oman, however, prevented effective Omani domination of the coast for the time being. As a consequence, in the 18th century, most 12 chapter two coastal settlements were able to maintain a fairly independent role, until Oman, led by the Bū Sa īdī family, was able to reassert her dominant position on the coast in the early 19th century. In the 1820s and 1830s, most coastal settlements came under effective Omani control. In his policy of expansion, Sultan Sa īd b. Sulān (r. 1806-1856) was supported by some local allies, such as Lamu, who managed to decisively defeat a coalition of Mombasa and Pate forces in 1812 (Fuglesang 1994: 47). In 1822, the Omani fleet also con- quered Brawa and Pate, in 1823 Pemba and in 1824 the rest of the Lamu archipelago. Finally, Mombasa, which had been ruled by the Mazrū ī family since 1730, was forced to accept Omani overrule in 1837. With her fleet of 70-80 warships, the Sultanate was not only able to effectively protect her trading connections in the Indian Ocean but also to exert effective control over the East African coast north of Mozambique. As a consequence, Oman was never forced to occupy the coastal strip and to maintain costly fortresses and bases there: the Sultanate was capable of cutting off the seaborne communication and trade of any coastal settlement at any time (Bennett 1978: 44). The armed (territorial) forces of the Sultanate re mained, by contrast, rather small: in the 1840s, they comprised about 400 soldiers, 200 of them based in Mombasa, often mercenaries recruited in Baluchistan or Hadramaut (Bennett 1978: 45). While Zanzibar’s development to become the paramount political and economical centre on the East African coast had started under Sultan Sa īd b. Sulān, and was reinforced by the shift of Oman’s seat of government from Muscat to Zanzibar in 1840,1 the emergence of Zanzibar as an African trading empire took place only after the division of the Bū Sa īdī empire into two halves: before he died in 1856, Sultan Sa īd b. Sulān split his realm among his sons Mājid and Thwaynī, who now effectively ruled two separate states, the Sultanates of Muscat and Zanzibar. Zanzibar thus became an ‘African’ empire ruled by Omani elites (Bennett 1978: 63). Sultan Mājid (r. 1856-1870), the first ruler of the Sultanate of Zanzibar, continued the policy of modernization started by his father, although he had to overcome a number of problems, such as a rebellion by his brother Barghash, as well as Thwaynī’s attempt to invade Zanzibar in 1859. With British

1 Sultan Sa īd had visited Zanzibar in 1829 for the first time, and stayed first at Mtoni, north of the ‘Old Town’, later, from 1832, at the Bait al-Sāil in the ‘Old Town’ (Hoffman 2006: 251; Ziddy 2006: 6). Zanzibar: the historical setting 13 support, he was able to master these difficulties and to start a program of modernization inspired by Egypt, which came to be seen as a model for Zanzibar’s development (Pouwels 1987: 127). Among Mājid’s specific achievements was the consolidation of Zanzibar’s rule over the mainland, a development that was underlined by his decision to construct a new harbour, Dar es Salaam, south of Bagamoyo that was supposed to become the Sultan’s new capital city (Bennett 1978: 78). Mājid’s successor, Barghash (r. 1870-1888), who had been educated in India, continued his predecessor’s policy of modernization. In 1875, Barghash visited Syria, Jerusalem and Egypt, and brought back from Syria Zanzibar’s first printing press which was put into action in 1879 (Bang 2008: 351). In Egypt, he met Khedive Ismā īl and acquainted himself with the processes of reform and modernization that had been implemented in Egypt since the 1860s (see Bennett 1978: 99 and Pouwels 1987: 127). In 1872, Barghash’s policy of modernization led to the establishment of a regular postal service between Zanzibar and Aden, and in 1879, a telegraph cable was installed between Zanzibar and Aden. Zanzibar was thus connected directly with the world’s telegraph network (Beachey 1996: 63). Omani rule in the 19th century in Zanzibar was linked with a remarkable economic boom, based on the slave and ivory trade as well as the clove, palm tree and sugar cane plantations on the two major islands, Unguja and Pemba. As a result of the economic boom, the sedentary population of Wahadimu2 and Watumbatu farmers of Unguja, who cultivated fruit, cassava and rice for both market and subsistence, was gradually displaced from the fertile agricultural lands in western Unguja to make place for an increasing number of clove, and later palm tree, plantations that depended on slave labour (and later squatter and migrant labour), and was forced to resettle on the poorer soils of eastern and southern Unguja, the so-called ‘Hadimu fringe’. From the 1860s, Unguja even had to import food (Sheriff 1987: 54 and Pouwels 1987: 115).

2 The term ‘Hadimu’ is an umbrella term for a number of different Swahili speaking populations of Southern and Eastern Unguja that do not necessarily accept this term, as it denotes an inferior social status, being derived from the Arabic term khādim (servant). In analogy to the people from Pemba (‘Wapemba’) or Tumbatu (‘Watumbatu’), people from Southern Unguja would, for instance, see themselves as citizens of Kizimkazi or Makunduchi (‘Kae’). 14 chapter two

Mājid’s and Barghash’s policies of modernization, as well as the economic boom from the 1830s onward, also turned Zanzibar into a centre of cultural orientation on the East African coast. Whereas numerous travel accounts from the mid-19th century reported that the palace of the Sultan contained only three rows of chairs, the Zanzibari court in the 1880s rather resembled the court of an Indian Maharaja. A bayt al-ajā ib, a ‘house of wonders’, displayed numerous mirrors, clocks, European furniture and curiosities that Mājid and Barghash had acquired, and could claim to have East Africa’s first electric elevator (Pouwels 1987: 127-8). In front of the palace, a light house cum clock-tower had been built in 1879, and, with the earnings from clove exports, toll fees and ivory exports, Zanzibar was able to finance a fresh-water supply, street lighting with gas lamps, a fleet of six steam ships and an army that was trained and equipped according to European models. The huts and gardens of the ‘Old Town’ (Mji Mkongwe, later labelled ‘Stone Town’) were replaced by stone houses; storehouses and barracks were constructed, and in the vicinity of the Sultan’s palace representative buildings came to house consulates, trading factories, hotels, trading houses and an ice factory, as well as new market buildings and the city houses and villas of the plantation owners, local notables and aristocrats (Bennett 1978: 56-7). These changes exerted a strong attraction. Zanzibar and the life- style of the Arab-Omani elite became a new cultural model and the ideal of coastal civilization, ungwana, was replaced by the wish to ‘live like an Arab’ (ustaarabu). This cultural change was expressed in the adoption of Arab ways of dressing and Arab fashions, but also by the adoption of Arab names (Pouwels 1987: 130). Zanzibar’s economic boom was expressed in the growth of Zanzibar town which from about 1838 spread across the ‘creek’, an arm of the sea that separated the ‘Old Town’ from ‘the other side’ (ng’ambo) and the rural (shamba) areas. Ng’ambo had started to emerge with the foundation of ‘Darajani’, the place near the bridge that crossed the ‘creek’ (see Myers 1997; Bissell 1999: 189; IC82, 20.2.2003), and quickly developed as a new residential and commercial area, a labyrinth of stone and mud houses, intermixed with gardens and markets, and intersected by small roads and alleys which in the 20th century became an agglomeration of popular quarters. Zanzibar: the historical setting 15

2.2. Colonial Times Zanzibar’s decline started in the 1870s, when the Sultanate was forced to stop the overseas slave trade under British pressure in 1873 (see Gilbert 2004: 60ff). Also, a great part of the clove production on the island of Unguja and the Zanzibari commercial navy had been destroyed by a devastating hurricane in 1872, and finally, Zanzibari companies had to fight against the competition of European trading companies in addition to political intervention by the European powers. As a result, the Sultan increasingly lost control over Zanzibar’s possessions and markets, to the Germans on the Mrima coast, and to the British on the northern coast. Zanzibar suffered a further set- back when Mombasa, after the construction of the Uganda railway, became the new and major harbour in British East Africa in the early 20th century (Martin 1978: 44). Zanzibar did not have a real chance to assert her claims to the mainland after Britain and Germany came to a mutual agreement in 1888 concerning the division of the territories of the Sultanate (Pouwels 1987: 164). When Zanzibar finally became a British Protectorate, on 7 November 1890, Zanzibar’s last reminders of independence were gradually cut down to size as well. British politicians did not seem to have had a clear idea, however, on the question as to what kind of rule they wanted to establish in Zanzibar (Flint 1965: 641). The Foreign Office, responsible for Zanzibar’s administration until 1913, initially started to work through the existing administrative structures as was common practice in other British dominions such as India, or, later, Northern Nigeria, where ‘indirect rule’ also came to be an accepted administrative practice. However, from the very beginning, the British started to interfere in internal affairs: on 1 August 1890, Sultan Alī b. Sa īd (r. 1890-93) was forced to sign another anti-slavery decree that prohibited all sales or exchanges of slaves. He closed down the slave markets and granted slaves the right to purchase their freedom. Only total abolition of slavery was rejected by the Sultan (see Pouwels 1987: 164ff). The arrival of Sir Gerald Portal in 1891 as the first Consul General produced other radical changes in Zanzibar’s political set-up, as Portal was committed to the idea of establishing direct control over Zanzibar’s internal affairs. To him, ‘Arab’ administration was ‘an embodiment of all the worst and most barbaric characteristics of primitive Arab despotism’ (Flint 1965: 642). Only two months after 16 chapter two his arrival, Portal undertook what Flint called a ‘coup d’État’ by seizing control of the Sultan’s finances and administration and by appointing Europeans, removable only with British consent, to take control of the treasury, army, police, customs, post office and public works. The Sultan lost control over the public revenue and was eventually granted a ‘civil list’ fixed at 250,000 rupees per annum for personal expenses and his court (Flint 1965: 643). Although the Sultan and the court were shocked by these measures, and although even Lord Salisbury, the British Prime Minister, urged Portal to take caution, the British continued to undermine the Sultan’s sovereignty, not only under Portal’s administration but also under that of his successor, Rennell Rodd. Rodd, in particular, used the opportunity of Sultan Alī b. Sa īd’s death, in 1893, to tighten the British grip on Zanzibar’s administration by more or less enforcing the succession of amad b. Thwaynī (r. 1893-96). Rodd also forced the new Sultan to renounce further rights of sovereignty by naming all Heads of Department himself, reducing the Sultan’s authority to mere ceremo- nial functions (Flint 1965: 644, Pouwels 1987: 164 and Bissell 1999). This policy had repercussions on the position of the Sultan, who suffered additional humiliation in the context of the dissolution of the British East Africa Company (BEAC) in 1895 and the subsequent establishment of the British East Africa Protectorate. In the context of these developments, the British Government appropriated the ₤200,000 that the Sultan had received from Germany as compensation for the loss of his mainland territories. This fund was taken to cover most of the ₤250,000 debt of the bankrupt British East Africa Company (Flint 1965: 645, Martin 1978: 40).3 As a consequence of these policies, amad b. Thwaynī started to support the anti-British party at the court and replaced Muammad b. Sayf as Muftī of Zanzibar by Hilāl b. Amūr who was known for his critical views of the British. In addition, the Sultan started to build a private bodyguard that reached a force of 1,000 men in October 1895. He was forced, however, to disband these troops in December 1895 when the British Consul General Hardinge brought in naval forces (Martin 1978: 41). When Sultan amad b. Thwaynī died on 25 August 1896, Khālid b. Barghash, who had been pushed aside as

3 For this ‘loan’ of ₤200,000, the British agreed to pay a ‘rent’ of ₤11,000 as well as ₤6,000 in interest annually. In 1962, the British government ‘repaid’ the ₤200,000 to balance the Zanzibari budget (Central Office of Information 1963; Brennan 2008: 838). Zanzibar: the historical setting 17 successor to the throne by the British in 1893, seized the opportunity to take control over the Palace and proclaimed himself the new Sultan (see Flint 1965: 646 and Martin 1978: 41). The British naval forces off Zanzibar’s coast reacted quickly, and on 27 August 1896, shelled the Sultan’s Palace, forcing Khālid b. Barghash to flee into the German consulate, thus ending the ‘shortest war on record’ according to the Guinness Book of Records (see Martin 1978: 41/42). The new Sultan selected by the British, amad b. Muammad (r. 1896-1902), sympathized with European ways of life, and sent his son and successor Sultan Alī b. amūd (r. 1902-1911) to Harrow in Britain. In order to ensure his son’s succession he made further concessions to the British: ‘From this time forward, the Sultan’s sovereignty was to be no more than a legal fiction’ (Flint 1965: 646). In April 1897, the new Sultan was compelled to abolish slavery for good (Pouwels 1987: 166). Sultan Alī b. amūd was ‘convinced’ by the Foreign Office to abdicate in 1911, and henceforth led a life of luxury in Europe. His successor, Khalīfa b. ārub (r. 1911-1960) was also an admirer of British rule. Existing structures of power and administration were completely transformed to fit British ideas of administration: after the first administrative measures taken in 1890 and 1891, a new wave of administrational reforms started in the early 20th century. In 1906, French and other European jurisdictions were surrendered to British jurisdiction. In the context of these reforms, the First Minister’s position was reduced in its functions while the Consul General became a quasi Governor controlling the local administration. Also, the Sultan’s courts, which had been comparatively independent, came under British control in 1908 and Departments of Public Works, Finance and Trade, Public Health and Education were set up in 1907 (Flint 1965: 654). In 1905, a ‘Waqf Commission’ was created that became responsible for the proper administration of the awqāf, the religious endowments (see Oberauer 2008). In the 19th century, due to the coexistence of two major religious orientations, the Sultans had accepted two lines of Qā ī-ship, one Ibā ī, the other Shāfi ī. In the 19th and early 20th centuries, Zanzibar in fact had one Ibā ī Muftī, usually from the Mundhirī or the Rawwāī families, and one Shāfi ī Chief Qā ī. In addition, there was at least one Qā ī for Pemba, one for the army, one Qā ī for the rural (shamba) areas of Zanzibar and a number of Qā īs for each quarter of the city of Zanzibar (Pouwels 1987: 152; see also Stockreiter 2008). British courts of law 18 chapter two were installed under Sultan amad b. Thwaynī in 1897 parallel to the existing courts of law, while the administration of Islamic law remained divided into a Shāfi ī and an Ibā ī section. Qā ī legislation was restricted to personal matters and ‘Anglo-Muhammedan’ legal codes as practiced in India were introduced to replace existing sharīa regulations on personal matters. From 1897, the Qā īs were appointed by the British, while the Sultan had to confirm these appointments. From 1908, the Qā īs were placed under the direct control of a British judge and lost their right to judge criminal cases (Turki 1987: 49; see also Stiles 2002: 59ff and Bang 2003: 158ff). In addition, the British colonial administration introduced examinations for Qā īs, relying on consultants from al-Azhar (Pouwels 1987: 164). Also, the British set up a dual system of a British High Court, responsible for all British and foreign subjects as well as mixed cases, and a Qā ī Court (or ‘Chief Native Court’) subordinate to the High Court that was to deal with the subjects of the Sultan. The Sultan thus retained his position as the highest instance of jurisdiction in formal ways only, while the Qā ī Court, with a supreme Shāfi ī Qā ī and a supreme Ibā ī Qā ī as well as four ‘deputy’ Qā īs in Unguja and Pemba constituted the higher echelons of ‘native’ jurisdiction (IC73, 18.3.2003; Bang 2003: 159). These Qā ī offices were never occupied consistently and at all times, though. The lowest level of jurisdiction was formed by district courts administered by six district Qā īs in Unguja and three in Pemba, as well as the liwalis (local representatives) of the Sultan in the rural areas (Hanak 1994: 41). In the context of the re-organization of the legal system in Zanzibar in 1908 through the ‘Zanzibar courts decree’ (as well as again in 1923, when the jurisdiction of the Qā īs was limited to civil matters; see Hashim 2005: 37), the ultimate control of the Sultan’s courts passed to a British magistrate with two Qā īs as assessors, while local Qā īs lost most of their influence. In addition, Europeans were appointed to supervise the liwalis and their jurisdiction in the countryside since ‘the Arab has no idea of time or punctuality’ (Pouwels 1987: 176; see also extensively Bang 2003: 158ff). In 1913, Zanzibar was transferred from the auspices of the Foreign Office to the administration of the Colonial Office. A new position of British Resident was created, combining the functions of the Consul General and the First Minister. The Resident was not subordinate to the administration of British India in Bombay any more, but to the Governor of the British East Africa Protectorate. Due to Zanzibar: the historical setting 19 the Sultan’s protests concerning this administrative reorientation, the Colonial Office created new institutions of Protectorate government that were designed to stress Zanzibar’s formal autonomy. The new Protectorate Government consisted of the Protectorate Council, presided over by the Sultan, and the Resident as Vice-President. Other members were the Chief Secretary, the Treasurer, the Attorney- General and initially two, later three representatives of the different categories of Zanzibar’s population, Arabs, Indians and (later) Africans. The functions of the council were vague, neither properly executive nor properly legislative and in practice consultative only, while the real power was with the Resident (Flint 1965: 656). In a further series of administrative reforms after 1925, the Governor of Kenya lost his position as High Commissioner for Zanzibar. The British Resident in Zanzibar now reported to the Colonial Office in London only. Also, the Protectorate Council was abolished and replaced by an Executive Council, consisting of the Chief Secretary, the Attorney General and the Treasurer, and directed formally by a President, namely the Sultan, but governed effectively by a Vice- President, the British Resident, as well as a Legislative Council (LegCo), in 1926. The LegCo, the majlis al-shūra, as it was called in Zanzibar’s Arab papers, in fact became Zanzibar’s most important political institution in the colonial period.4 The LegCo, as directed by the British Resident, not only encompassed five ex officio members and five officials appointed by the British Resident, but also had six members, appointed by the British Resident, who represented Zanzibari organizations such as the Arab Association (Flint 1965: 659). While Zanzibar experienced a thorough change of its political and administrative set-up, economic development turned out to be the major preoccupation of most Zanzibaris after 1891. In particular, abolition, which was implemented between 1890 and 1897, turned out to be a major problem. The British, in particular, feared that freed slaves would seek to be independent peasants, the clove industry would collapse, the already heavily indebted Arab landowners would become bankrupt, and the government would lose its main source of revenue (Bakari 2001: 49).

4 LegCo usually met in a small pavilion in the Victoria Gardens in Vuga, opposite the Resident’s palace. 20 chapter two

However, only a few slaves actually achieved emancipation. Most continued to work on the plantations of their former owners on a contract basis (Cooper 1981: 84ff). As tenants, the former slaves were free to work part-time on their own plots of land, creating an increasing shortage of plantation labour. The contract system was soon abandoned in favour of a wage labour system that allowed former slaves to stay as squatters on the plantations while working for wages. This system put increasing financial pressure on the plantation owners. As a consequence, from the early 1900s they started to hire seasonal pickers. These migrant workers, often Nyamwesi, soon started to settle permanently (Flint 1965: 650; Cooper 1981: 92ff). The move from ‘slaves to squatters’ (Cooper 1981) and later to wage labourers was encouraged by the British in order to prevent the shortage of labour that threatened the plantation economy after abolition (see Sheriff/Ferguson 1991: 117-123; Nisula 1999: 226; for the history of land appropriation in the 19th and 20th centuries, see Sheriff 1987 and Middleton 1961). However, Zanzibar’s plantation owners not only had to survive the abolition of slavery, which led to increasing indebtedness of landowners and tree owners since they now had to pay for labour, but they also had to survive economic depression: by the late 1920s, the price for cloves had started to drop considerably. As a result, mortgaging of tree- and landownership increased (Cooper 1981: 139). Many farmers lost all their trees, while others could no longer maintain their plantations. When pressed by their creditors, these creditors, often Indians, began to take over their properties (Cooper 1981: 142). The British authorities tried to stop the demise of the Arab plantations and the rise of Indian creditors by establishing the Clove Growers’ Association (CGA) in 1927. The CGA provided low-interest harvesting loans (bonuses), storage space and minimum selling prices and was in charge of the marketing of the clove harvest. Its goal was to save ‘Arab’ plantations, as ‘Arabs’ and not Indians were seen as the major pillar of British rule (see Shao 1992 and Gilbert 2004). Membership in the CGA fell rapidly, however, in 1928, when the bonus-system was abolished and Indians continued to buy clove plantations. Indian clove tree ownership grew from 5% in 1922 to almost 50% in 1933 (Turki 1987: 45). From about 1934 onwards, these developments also enabled ‘African’ farmers, mostly in Pemba, to acquire land and trees from impoverished owners, when Arab landlords lost their properties ‘due to indebtment, Islamic inheritance law regulations, extravagant expenditure as a way Zanzibar: the historical setting 21 of displaying one’s socio-economic status instead of abiding by aus- terity measures’ (Bakari 2001: 51; see also Sheriff 2001a). The abolition of slavery, the resulting shortage of labour, the world economic depression, and the fluctuation of clove prices, as well as dispossession of Zanzibar’s mainland dominions were thus instrumental in causing the demise of the big plantation owners, and colonial officials even started to consider the big landlords as a ‘spent force’, while peasantization of the clove economy was seen as an appropriate alternative (Bakari 2001: 50). In 1929, the Clove Bonus Scheme registered that peasants in Pemba owning less than 500 clove trees already represented 94% of all clove owners and that they owned 54% of all clove trees (Bakari 2001: 51). In 1934, in order to stop the demise of the big ‘Arab’ plantations, the British transformed the CGA into a government body that was authorized to license clove dealers and to inspect produce, and in 1937 the CGA became the sole buyer of cloves. At the same time, a series of decrees were issued from 1934 onwards, intended to control the marketing, harvesting and export of cloves and copra. These decrees seriously affected the dynamics of the economy and led to disturbances in Zanzibar, when ‘Manga’ Arabs who had only recently come from Oman to Zanzibar as plantation or harbour workers (Sheriff 2001a: 306), protested against the British produce inspector, Dankin, on Friday, 7 February 1936, in the context of an inspection of copra offered for sale in the market (ZNA AB 70/5). In the ensuing riot, the Indian Chief Inspector of Police, Camrudeen, as well as Assistant District Officer Rolleston, died of their wounds. In addition, four ‘Manga’ were killed. The commission of inquiry into the riot found that the copra adulteration decree of 1934 had not been sufficiently publicized (ZNA AB 70/6). As a consequence, many local producers had remained ignorant of the legal implications of the decree, which provided penalties for adulteration or intended sale of rotten copra. They therefore became angry when controls started suddenly in 1936 (Penrad 1995: 295ff). Colonial times were far from being idyllic, thus, and were characterized by increasing tension between different groups of the Zanzibari population as well as the dynamics of economic change and British colonial policies. 22 chapter two

2.3. Questions of Race In the 19th century, Zanzibar’s economic boom was expressed in a considerable growth of its population: In 1819, Zanzibar Town had a population of about 5,000 inhabitants, while by 1835 this number had grown to about 10-15,000 inhabitants. By 1846, the number had risen to 20-25,000 and it continued to rise in the next decades to around 80,000 in 1885 (Bennett 1978: 57; Sheriff 1987: 138). At the same time, Zanzibar’s population became increasingly cosmopolitan: by the 1840’s, 5,000 Omanis had settled in Zanzibar, in addition to 400-700 Indians. The number of Indians in Zanzibar continued to rise and in the 1870’s there were about 3,000 of them living in Zanzibar, mostly of Gujarati and Cutchi (Kachchh) origin, including 2,000 ‘Banians’, Indians belonging to different Hindu caste groups. In addition, there were Hadrami and Yemeni communities, people from Madagascar, Comorians and Somalis, particularly from the Brawa region, indigenous Zanzibaris, the Wapemba, the Watumbatu and the ‘Hadimu’, people from the East African coast, as well as Africans from the hinterland as far away as Manyema (Eastern Congo), Baluchis from south-eastern Iran, and a growing community of Europeans (Sheriff 1987: 147/149). It would be misleading, however, to assume that Zanzibar’s different ethnic groups represented homogenous political, economic, social or religious ‘communities’. Ethnic categories and equalizations such as ‘Arab/landowner’, ‘Indian/trader’ or ‘African/farmer-worker’ were never clear-cut. Thus, Hadrami Arabs, in particular those from Shir on the Hadrami coast, were never part of the ruling elite, and many Omani Arabs were poor ‘Manga’. Both ‘Manga’ and Shiiris found employment as small shop owners or agents of landlords who used them to supervise and evict squatters (Bowles 1991: 101). In addition to these ethnic and cultural differences, communities in Zanzibar should be seen as an array of families and family groups, clans and occupation groups which could be powerful in political terms, yet poor in economic terms, influential as religious scholars, yet marginal in Zanzibar’s social setting. More often than not, ethnic groups were characterized by internal feuds and histories of competition that cut across ethnic or even racial definitions such as ‘Arabs’ or ‘Indians’. The Arab- Omani community was thus led by families such as the Mundhirīs, the Mughayrīs or the Riyāmīs, which, together with the Bū Sa īdīs, dominated the political and economical development of the Sultanate Zanzibar: the historical setting 23 in the 19th century (Sheriff 1992: 13-16). The arthīs had established trading contacts with the East African coast by the 10th century, and since the 1820’s the Barwānīs had obtained posts as governors (liwalis) in Lindi, Mafia island and Zanzibar, and had become famous as religious scholars (see Le Cour Grandmaison 1989: 177ff). Scholarship was not confined to Omanis, however, but was widespread: immigrants from the Hadramaut and the Comoros as well as from Brawa in present day southern Somalia were particularly famous for their erudition. Influential families of Hadrami origin were the Jamal al- Layl in Lamu, the Mahdalīs in Kilwa, the Balfaqīh in Moheli (Como- ros), the Bā Alawī in Vanga and Wasini, as well as the Bin Sālim in Anjouan (Comoros) (see Le Guennec-Coppens 1989: 185ff). Social criteria were regarded as major markers of distinctness in 19th century Zanzibar: being aristocrat or slave was more important than being ‘white’ or ‘black’. Even the family of the Sultan was divided into an ‘Abyssinian’ and a ‘Circassian’ line (see Ruete 1998: 85ff): intermarriage and concubine (suria) relationships in fact led to the emergence of a large group of ‘black’ Arabs, Africans who came to regard themselves as ‘Arab’ due to their affiliation with an Arab family. From the late 19th century, issues of race and skin colour became paramount, however. The British administration was concerned in particular with questions of how to identify and treat the different members of the Zanzibari population, and introduced the concept of a ‘natural hierarchy of races’. Colonial history thus can be seen as a history of framing in terms of racial identities. This process was connected with processes of invention of tradition, imagination of traditions and their interpretation (IC18, 23.5.2001). Processes of invention, construction and framing particularly informed ethnic and religious classifications and led to the construction of races in Zanzibar in colonial times and a subsequent, distinct ‘racialization’ of Zanzibar’s public life (Purpura 1997: 163). The racialist framing of Zanzibari society prevailed until the very end of British colonial rule. In one of the last annual reports of the Department of Education (DeptoE), the Protectorate was described as being ‘ruled by Arab Sultans since the end of the 17th century. The Arab and the indigenous African population is exclusively Muslim, and Islam is the official religion’ (ZNA BA 5/34). The dynamics of racialization touched both public and private lives and had lasting and devastating effects on pro-independence politics as well as the revolution of 1964 and beyond. The British colonial view, 24 chapter two namely, that ‘Zanzibar was an Arab land’, was also adopted, after 1964, as an argument legitimating the revolution (IC72, 4.3.2001). In British concepts of colonial society, the British occupied the highest rank. As British colonial rule was informed by the concept of indirect rule and consequently sought to instrumentalize the Omani ruling elite for implementing British colonial policies, Zanzibar’s Arab population came next in colonial racial hierarchies. Even before Zanzibar had become a British Protectorate in 1892, it was already regarded by the British as an ‘Arab Sultanate’.5 In 1917, the British Resident, Pearce, stated in his report on education that Zanzibar’s population of about 200,000 was divided into many different ethnic groups. ‘For facility of reference’, complex ethnic and religious identities were simplified by a division of the population into three ‘races’: The Asiatic and African populations of Zanzibar may be divided into three distinct races, the members of which differ in mentality, in modes of life and in aspirations. With the exception of about 2,000 Hindus, all are Muslims, but with little religious coherence or regard for each other. The first class comprises the Arabs, who represent the aristocracy and the land owning community (c. 9,000); the second class includes the British Indian communities (c. 10,000). These people are almost exclusively commercial; they are town-dwellers, constitute the great shop keeping class, and represent powerful influences in Zanzibar; the third class comprises the ‘Swahili’ or the African ‘negroes’ settled in Zanzibar: He may or not have, a few drops of Arab blood in his veins. He represents 90% of the population, and both Arabs and Indians look down on him as an inferior person; but it should be understood that he is far superior to the pagan Negro of the mainland (ZNA AB 1/224). The 1930 report of the education department repeated these positions: ‘In reviewing education in the Protectorate the following must be borne in mind: a) it is an Arab Sultanate and the recognized religion is Islam, b) the town population is cosmopolitan’ (ZNA BA 5/6). British efforts to classify Zanzibar’s populations became apparent in the censuses that were carried out in the colonial period, in 1910, 1921, 1924, 1931, 1948 and 1958. Only from the 1930s onward did census data become increasingly accurate, however, and the censuses of 1948 and 1958 presented a detailed picture of Zanzibar’s

5 For a general discussion of question of race and identity in colonial times, see Glassman 2000a: 203 and 2004. Zanzibar: the historical setting 25 population (see appendix I). Later census data were also increasingly detailed with respect to issues such as religious affiliation. The 1948 census (ZNA AB 33/7) thus registered 21 different religious categories, some, as in the case of the ‘Shia Ibadhi’ category, outright false: Roman-Catholic, Christian, protestant, Hindu (so stated), Brahimin, Vaishya, Sanatan Dharamist, Arya Samaj, Islam (so stated), Suni Shafi, Suni Hanafi, Suni Maliki, Shia Ismaili Khoja, Shia Ithnasheri-Khoja, Shia Bohora, Shia Ibadhi, Jains, Sikhs, Zoroastrians, Buddhists and ‘unspecified’. Since the British regarded the Arabs as the ruling elite and were prepared to grant them a number of privileges, it became increasingly important for Zanzibaris to be counted and registered as Arab. This explains the rapid statistical growth of ‘Arabs’ in colonial times.6 Many of these ‘Arabs’ were not plantation owners or members of the ruling family, but petty traders and small rural shopkeepers as well as small farmers (Purpura 1997: 160). Apart from statistics as well as changes in perception or self-definition, a major explanation for the growth of the Arab population may have been the fact, that considerable intermarriage was going on between Arabs and other ethnic groups, in particular Arab landlords and former slaves, who subsequently tended to portray themselves and their offspring as ‘Arab’ in order to rise socially. Another major explanation for the growth of the Arab (but also Indian) population was the imposition of a food rationing system in WWII that provided preferential treatment for Arabs and Indians (Asians). These groups were entitled to rice rations, while Africans got maize and beans only, a regulation that gave birth to the slogan Njaa ndiyo ilizaa makabila haya hapa Zanzibar (‘famine created these tribes here in Zanzibar’) (Maliyam- kono 2000: 5). Although (statistical) constructions of racial hierarchies were far removed from social realities, they were nevertheless strong enough to exert tremendous influence on Zanzibar’s social development in colonial times. From the 1920s onward, for instance, statistical considerations led to a breath-taking growth of the Shirazi

6 In fact, Zanzibar’s Arab population grew rather out of proportion in the first decades of the 20th century: between 1924 and 1931 the Arab share rose from 8.7% of the population to 14.2%, a plus of 38% (see Prunier 1998), while in 1948 their percentage had risen to 16.9%. 26 chapter two population, especially in Pemba, where a Shirazi Association was established in 1939. Only a few years later though, the term ‘Shirazi’ became obsolete, when the Bateson report on Zanzibar’s social development abandoned ‘cultural’ in favour of ‘tribal’ categories (IC82, 14.8.2007). As a consequence, the number of ‘Shirazis’ decreased from 13,602 persons in Unguja and 12,828 in Pemba to 8,642/32,249 in 1932 and 145/30 respectively in 1948. At the same time, the Wapemba population grew from 143/12,496 in 1924 to 480/11,276 in 1932 and 900/58,868 in 1948 (Bakari 2001: 65). At the same time, the ‘Swahili’ decreased from 33,944 persons in 1924 to 2,066 in 1931 and 290 in 1948. Although the British regarded the Arab population as the leading ‘race’, they nevertheless cultivated a number of prejudices with respect to the Arab population. British racialist attitudes toward the Arab population on Zanzibar were thus expressed in a DeptoE memorandum of 7 February 1916: There is scarcely an Arab in Zanzibar who has received a modern education...The Arab class which exists is almost exclusively that of the land-owner. He engages in little or no commerce and in no professional work: he has no place in the town except as a man of leisure, or as a courtier at the Sultan’s receptions: he has no education beyond the elements of his religion: he has no discipline and he knows nothing of the scientific agriculture. His children are brought up in comparative affluence; with the exception of the small minority now being educated they have no knowledge of work and none of discipline. They have, as part of their oriental nature a far greater bent for pleasure than a Wes- tern white child has, sexually they develop five years earlier and their opportunities are unlimited in comparison. As a result, we are getting a race which, apart from losing the family money and estates, is mentally and morally retrograde, neither possessing the training nor knowledge to make the best use of the land or to keep out of the money-lender’s hands. As already stated, the difficulty can only be met by compulsory education and for the reasons above stated it must be developed along agricultural lines with the aim to create a skilled labour market (ZNA AB 1/224). As the British regarded the Arab population of Zanzibar as the political elite, they were willing to grant the leading voices of Arab public opinion, in particular the Arab Association (AA), some weight with respect to political or educational issues of their administration (Clayton 1981: 17). Development in the sphere of education, health or public works was often commented on by the Zanzibari Arab elite, Zanzibar: the historical setting 27 in particular the AA. The AA had been established in 1901 (according to Mapuri in 1897; Mapuri 1996: 12), yet was formally registered on 25 January 1922 only, as shown in a letter signed by Sayf b. Sulaymān al-Bū Sa īdī (B37) and twenty others (ZNA AB 12/28). Among the local associations, the AA was the first group that started to take part in politics in the 1920s and it remained the most important political organization in Zanzibar until the 1950s. On 23 July 1954, the AA, for instance, organized a demonstration for voting rights with slo- gans such as ‘We want the vote, long live the Sultan’ and ‘No taxation without representation’. An article in Mwongozi pointed out that even ‘some Africans took part in the demonstration’ (‘baadhi ya waa- frika walishirikiana katika muhadhara huu’, Mwongozi, 6.8.1954). From the 1920s onward, local political associations such as the AA came to constitute a major factor in the development of British colonial rule in Zanzibar. The AA turned out to be of particular importance as it became the major basis for the foundation of Zanzibar’s first political party, the Zanzibar National Party (ZNP, established in 1955; see below). In an article in al-Nah a of 22 January 1953, the most eminent members of the AA were characterized in the following way (see also the biographical dictionary): The President ( Abdallāh b. Sulaymān al-arthī): Sometimes he tackles his duties with all that is in him, at other times he retreats from such duties with what might be termed retreat not according to plan. He is therefore both strong and weak. Vice President (Sayf b. amūd Fayal): Premature in what he believes to be progressive ideas. He is therefore politically at daggers-drawn with the rest of his fellow members. Treasurer: (Mas ūd b. Alī al-Riyāmī): Neutral in his very nature in all matters except in matters concerning finance. In this he sheds his neutrality. Secretary: (Muhannā Nāir al-Rawwāī): Teaching has sapped him dry. Eagle, whose claws have either been removed or blunted through age. Sayf b. Alī al-Bū ālī: Has acquired Anglo-Saxon cold temperament, and their ways. Sayf b. Sulaymān al-Bū Sa īdī: Opposes every step towards progress, even though the thought might have originated from him. Badr b. Muammad al-Barwānī: Foremost in all ideas, and the last to let go. amūd b. Sālim al-Rawwāī: Tends to follow the majority. Abdallāh b. amūd al-arthī: Always a fighter. Fights all who attack the Association and fights against the very members of the Associa- tion. 28 chapter two

Sa īd b. Sālim al-Rawwāī: A silent man. Gives voice only to assent. Sulān b. Khamīs al-Mughayrī: He is in fear of fear itself. Sālim b. Alī al-Riyāmī: A fanatic to his own views and ideas even if these be against the general good. Amad b. Sulaymān al-Riyāmī: Runs away from the committee meetings as from social prison. This satiric characterization nevertheless shows that the AA could be perceived as a lobby of prominent families of Omani descent, such as the al- Azrī, al-Barwānī, the Āl Bū Sa īd, al-Hināwī, al-Ghaythī, al-arthī, al-Kharūī, al-Kindī, al-Lamkī, al-Ma āmirī, al-Marūbī, al-Mundhirī, al-Mazrū ī, al-Miskirī, al-Mughayrī or al-Rawwāī families, that were frequently mentioned in the annual reports of the Protectorate from the 1920s onward. These families also produced most leading administrators, teachers and Qā īs of both the Shāfi ī madhhab and the Ibā iyya in the colonial period. By contrast, families of non-Omani origin were organized in a number of smaller associations such as the Arab Hadramaut Association that was divided into two smaller sections, namely, the Hadramaut Arab Association and the Association of Hadramaut Coast Arabs, which represented the Shiiri community (ZNA AB 12/22; Sheriff 2001a: 308ff). For a long time, namely from the late 1920s to the 1950s, the AA was led by Abdallāh b. Sulaymān al-arthī (B61; PRO CO 822/1379). Other influential members of the AA in the 1950s were amūd b. Sālim (Muammad) al-Rawwāī (B152), Muammad Amad al-Hanzawānī (B60) and Hilāl Muammad Hilāl al-Barwānī (B29), while Alī Musin al-Barwānī (B30) was to become a major figure in the ZNP (Clayton 1981: 39). Leading personalities of the AA, such as Vice-President Sayf b. amūd Fayal (B49) or Amad Lamkī (B105) were known for radical political positions. Lamkī, for instance, had worked in Egypt for Radio Cairo (al-Barwani 1996: 99) and had been imprisoned by the British in Egypt due to his ‘subversive activities’. In 1953, Lamkī returned to Zanzibar after two years in prison and founded the Zanzibar National Union (ZNU) that sought to rally support on the basis of a pan-Muslim and anti- colonial program (Clayton 1981: 39 and Lodhi 1986: 413).7

7 The paramount role of Arab (and Indian) elites was shown in the way public commissions and different administrative boards were set up: in 1952, the ajj Com- mittee thus consisted of Abdallāh Muammad al-a ramī (B55), Mas ūd Thānī ,Alī al-Shirāzi b. Rashīd al-Miskirī, Muyī al-Dīn b. (ﻫﺎﺷﻞ :al-Khalāī, Hāshil (sic Zanzibar: the historical setting 29

Ranking below the ‘Arab’ population, ‘Indians’ came next in colonial hierarchies. Like the ‘Arabs’, the Indian population was split into many different groups. In 1870, the Indian Muslim community consisted of three major groups: Khōja (Shī a-Ismā īlī), Bohora (Shī a- Ismā īlī) and Memon. The Khōja-Ismā īlī community, affiliated with the Aga Khan, was the largest group with 535 families in 1870, most of them (422) originating from the Cutch (Kachchh) peninsula in Gujarat. Approximately 2,100 persons belonging to this group had their permanent residence in Zanzibar, while the rest (about 450 persons) settled on the mainland. The Bohora community came second. Most of them originated from Cutch and Rajkot (Kathiawar) in Gujarat. In 1870 they numbered about 250 persons in Zanzibar, whereas their numbers on the coast had grown to about 600 persons. Most lower caste Bohora made a living as craftsmen, artisans, lock- smiths, petty traders and ironmongers, while higher caste Khōja were traders and entrepreneurs active in import-export businesses and long distance trade as well as, later on, artisanal production. Finally, there was a small group of Memon, a Sunnī-anafī community from Gujarat, usually Surat and Porbandar (Kathiawar), or from Lohanpur in Sindh, who did not count more than 250 persons in 1870 (Martin 1978: 34-5). The Memon as well as the Bohora and the Khōja communities were marked by different caste affiliations: Memon were either Kokni (traders from the Konkan region south of Bombay, although only few Koknis were Memon), Lohana (traders from Lohanpur in Sindh, yet again, only few Lohanas were Memon) or Bania (often regarded as Hindu traders, although some were Memon, and thus, Muslim) (ZNA AB 1/36). In addition, there was a Muslim Kumbaro population (pot-makers, in India often non-Muslim) in

M.H. Janoowalla; M.D. Kermalli; Abeid Amani Karume, Muammad Osman Vagu, Abdallāh Alī Balūchī and Muammad Sa īd al-Mughayrī (ZNA AB 22/59). By 1954, not much had changed: the members were Mas ūd Thānī al-Khalāi, Abdallāh b. Muammad al-a rāmī, Amani Abeid Karume, Muyī al-Dīn b. Alī Mshirāzi, Muammad Osman Vagu, M.H. Janoowala, M.D. Kermalli, al-ājj āli Muammad Ismā īl, Hāshil b. Rashīd al-Miskirī, Abdallāh Alī Balūchī and Muammad b. Sa īd al-Mughayrī (ZNA AB 22/41). Similarly, the milad al-nabi association, as registered on 23 January 1962, in order ‘to celebrate annually the milad al-nabi’, reflected the paramount position of Arab and Indian elites: when, on 11 December 1961, the association applied for a piece of land at Mnazi Mmoja for the building of a residential headquarters, the trustees included Amīr Alī Abd al-Rasūl, Abdallāh Sulaymān al-arthī, Amad A.M. Lakha, Tayyibali I. Jivanji, Jaffer Hassin Manji, amūd b. Sālim al-Rawwāī and Muammad Mas ūd Alī al-Riyāmī (ZNA AH 33/20). 30 chapter two

Makunduchi, as well as a group of Catholic Indians from Portuguese Goa and a group of Hindus (approx. 300 persons in Zanzibar in 1870) (Martin 1978: 36). This situation was complicated by the fact that the terms Bohora (as derived from the Gujarati term vohorvun, trader) and Khōja as well as the terms Kokni, Kumbaro, Bania, Lohana did not necessarily denote religious or regional affiliation, but could also mean an occupational (caste) group that might be Sunnī-Muslim or Hindu rather than Shī a-Ismā īlī. Religious and/or occupational groups were finally divided by non-religious splits and sometimes sought to legitimize these splits in terms of socio-ethnic arguments. The ‘Kokni Jamat’ (i.e. one of the two Memon communities, see below) thus split into two communities between 1945 and 1956 (ZNA AB 22/51) and a Khōja Shī a Ithnā ashara (Twelver Shī a) community eventually split from the Khōja Ismā īlī group. The British tried to reproduce the heterogeneity of the Indian population in their racial policies and started to divide the Indian communities into subgroups according to religious, ethnic, regional and social patterns. In religious terms, the British registered Hindus, Muslims, ‘Parsees’ und Catholics (from Goa). In regional terms, they identified immigrants from Gujarat, in particular Cutch and Kathiawar, as well as the town of Surat. In addition, there were some Southern Indians, again divided into different caste groups. The various Shī ī groups undoubtedly presented the most difficult task for the British in their efforts to compartmentalize the population: there were at least three major affiliations, namely, the Shī a Khōja- Ithnā ashara community, a Khōja group which was not affiliated, as most Khōjas were, with the Nizārī-branch of the Ismā īlī community as led by the Aga Khan, but with the Ithnā ashara Shī a community; the ‘Shī a Imāmī Ismā īliyya Supreme Council’, i.e. those Khōja who were affiliated with the Nizārī-Ismā īlī branch; the Bohora community, which was affiliated with the Musta lī-Ismā īlī branch and led by their own dāī mulaq (supreme guide) in Bombay; the ‘Cutch’ Memon Association, as well as the ‘Kokni Jamat’, a Memon group that was confusingly enough also called ‘Hindu Sunni’, but was of Sunnī-Shāfi ī orientation in contrast to the larger ‘Cutch’ Memon (Sunni-anafi) community, from which it had split. Communities such as the Bohora and the Khōja, in addition, refused to pray with other Muslims in their respective mosques and had their own community halls, the Jamā at Khanas. In addition, there was the Hindoo Union, the Sikh community, the Goan community, the Hindu Zanzibar: the historical setting 31

Mandal community and the Baharania Association (ZNA AB 22/46). In 1945, the British administration eventually registered seven ‘Indian’ communities (totalling 13,025 persons): the Hindu community (3,452), the Ismā īlī community (Khōja Ismā īlī, 2,400), the Sunnī community (i.e. the Memon group; 2,313), the Ithnā ashara community (2,000, mostly Khōja), the Bohora community (i.e. Bohora Ismā īlī; 1,377), the Goans (721, who were Portuguese subjects) and the Parsees (212) (ZNA AD 7/20). While the Arab communities were prominent in political terms, Indians concentrated on business and crafts and undertook major efforts in the sphere of education. In politics, Indians did not feature prominently until independence, with some exceptions such as Rati Bulsara (B36), the editor of The Adal Ināf, a major Indian paper (IC82, 14.8.2007). Like the Arab population, the Indian communities were represented by a number of associations. The major association was the Indian National Association as established in 1914 (according to Mapuri in 1910, see Mapuri 1996: 12) that emerged from the Indian Merchants Association established in 1905 (Turki 1987: 39). Under the leadership of Seth Yusufali A. Karimji, Tayyibali Ismailji Jivanji, Mohammed N. Jindani, Jaffer Hassin Manji and Mulji Mathuradas, it fought for the economic interests of the Indian traders and businessmen, but remained largely neutral in political terms. In addition, there were many smaller Indian associations, based on religious, ethnic and occupational affiliations that also did not become active in political terms. From the 1930s, the British also started to compartmentalize the ‘African’ population that had originally been seen as to consist of ‘indigenous Shirazi’, the ‘aboriginal African population’ of Unguja and Pemba, and immigrant ‘Africans’ (ZNA BA 34/7). The African population held the lowest rank in the colonial hierarchy of races. In contrast to Arab and Indian organizations, African organisations started to organize late. The African Sports Club (ASC) was established in 1931/2 and became the basis for later African associations, in particular the African Association (AfA), as established in 1934 by ‘certain members of the now defunct African Sports Club’ (ZNA AB 12/180). The ASC also became the basis for the political rise of Abeid Amani Karume (B90; Clayton 1981: 17), who became President of the AfA in 1939. According to O. Abdurrahman, the ASC football team was even established by Karume: ‘It was his plan to bring us together there, and then we went along, along, along, until we formed 32 chapter two the African Association and then the Afro-Shirazi Party’ (Fair 1997: 240). In Pemba, the AfA had existed since 1935, although its members were predominantly of mainland origin, at least for the time being.8 The AfA was not the only association that tried to organize the African population, however. Other organizations such as the Shirazi Association (SA) that had a strong regional emphasis in Pemba as well as Southern Unguja, followed in 1939 (see Clayton 1981: 17). Officially, the Shirazi Association was established on 29 August 1940 by Tumu b. Maalim (President), Shamte b. Hamadi (Vice-Pres.), Sheikh Ali b. Sharifu, Salim b. Khamis (Secretaries), and others.9 Their letter of application to register the association, addressed to the Provincial Commissioner of Pemba in October 1940, read: ‘Sir, we are aware that there are already many associations in Pemba and that another one may seem unnecessary but we feel that the African Association does not represent the natives of this island’ (ZNA AB 12/2). The Pemba Provincial Commissioner indeed supported the establishment of the Shirazi Association: The African Association has always claimed—and more than once in writing—that it was representative of the indigenous population of the island. I have at one time or another pointed out that this assumption was incorrect. The African Association has therefore recently been at pains to increase its membership by trying to persuade local inhabitants to join the Association. Certain persons have objected to this incorporation of Pemba people in a foreign association and their being designa- ted as ‘Africans’ originating from the mainland—hence the founding of the new Association. The WaShirazi (by legend) are the descendants of a somewhat mythical group of Persians who in the distant past established trading bases on these islands, and, in Pemba, intermixed with

8 The AfA was conceived, from its very foundation in 1934, as the Zanzibari branch of the (Tanganyika) African Association (TAA) that became the Tanganyika African National Union (TANU) in 1954. Abeid Amani Karume played a major role in the early development of the TAA, while Bibi Titi Muhammad, a major female organizer of the TAA, frequently visited Zanzibar (see Iliffe in Kimambo/Temu 1969: 158ff, as well as Ranger, ibid: 186ff, and Geiger 1997: 92ff), until the ties between the mainland branches and the Zanzibar branch were formally dissolved in 1947 (see Temu in Kimambo 1969: 198). 9 The list of members of the Shirazi Association in Unguja as established in 1941, had 55 names, amongst others that of Ameir Tajo (Makunduchi), Muhammad Haji (Muyuni) and Thabit Kombo (Kizimkazi). Forty-two out of 55 members were from Makunduchi, Kizimkazi and Muyuni (ZNA AB 12/2). This regional concentration resurfaced in later times: in 1953, the Shirazi Association office bearers were Ali Ameir (President, ex-sheha of Chukwani), Juma bin Mlenge (Vice-president), Omar Khamis (Secretary) and Thabit Kombo (Treasurer) (ZNA AB 12/2). Zanzibar: the historical setting 33

the WaPemba...Their number was insufficient to make any very great impression upon the WaPemba, who preserved their essentially African characteristics. Nevertheless the name became accepted as denoting a people of somewhat superior extraction (ZNA AB 12/2). The foundation of associations in the 1930s and 1940s eventually became a matter of debate within the British colonial administration, in particular, in the years after WWII. A file on the issue of ‘Joining of political association by government servants’ thus named five (out of twelve associations) for ‘being a problem’ in Zanzibar, namely, the Arab, Muslim (an Indian association), Indian National, Young Arab and African Associations. The discussion with respect to the ‘problem’ of government service employees’ membership in associations actually started with respect to the question of membership in the Kenyan police forces in 1947/48, as expressed in a letter of 5 July 1948 by C. Thornley, the British Chief Secretary in Kenya, to ‘Dear Andrew’, A.B. Cohen, in the Colonial Office in London: ‘It must be expected that, within the next decade or two, African political associations will be much better organized, more active, efficient and vocal than they are at the present time. Some of them at least will in all probability be highly critical of the policy of the Government’ (ZNA AB 12/128). However, first restrictive measures of 27 January 1949 were confined to the Zanzibar Police Force (ZNA AB 12/128): Prohibition of Government Servants from being members of political associations: The attention of all officers is drawn to general orders 357 and 358. In accordance with Paragraph C of General order 357 the following list is issued of associations to which this order applies: Arab, Muslim, Indian National, Young Arab Union, African, Shirazi Asso- ciation. Officers who are members of any of the above Associations will be allowed three months from the date of this circular in which to resign from them. On 18 March 1949, the British colonial administration in Kenya decided to differentiate between political, cultural, social and religious associations, trade unions and others unions, and after some debates, a decree and government circular were published in late August 1953, with effect from 1 November 1953, first in Tanganyika, then in Zanzibar, which prohibited ‘membership of civil servants in political associations’. This decree was commented in al-Falaq on 2 September 1953 as being an ‘undemocratic decision: we find it strange that a government calling themselves democratic should issue 34 chapter two circulars of this kind’. In a letter of 12 September 1953, the Young Arab Union was ‘most distressed’ regarding the matter, according to British voices, as their membership was 99% government servants, the only exception being Alī Musin al-Barwānī (ZNA AB 12/128). Yet, all British endeavours to control the development of associations through administrative means and to ‘ensure that bureaucrats remained neutral’ (Martin 2007: 55) were in vain. In fact, the associations became major platforms for political activities in the 1950s. The political associations’ decree of 1954 seriously affected Zanzibari politics however, as many local civil servants were forced to either quit their associations or had to stop working in the administration. Among them was Aboud Jumbe, a teacher employed by the colonial administration, who had been in the Zanzibar National Union (ZNU),10 and Othman Sharif (B165). Both were later to join the Afro- Shirazi Party (ASP; Lodhi 1986: 413; Clayton 1981: 39). The decree on political associations thus had serious consequences as far as the development of political parties was concerned. In the case of the ZNP, the percentage of non-African party members grew and the ZNP increasingly became a party of the Arab elite (Purpura 1997: 167), while the leadership of the ASP which had been dominated by government employees, ‘fell from the hands of a government doctor to those of a former seaman’ (Martin 2007: 55).

2.4. Zama za siasa—The Time of Politics Although Zanzibar was often seen, in post-colonial times, as a peaceful tropical island paradise that was eventually shocked by one of the most violent revolutions of the 20th century, historical realities were different: in late 1923 and early 1924, skirmishes between Shiiri Arabs and Hindus (ZNA AB 70/1) had already broken the colonial peace, while another riot between Somalis and Sūri Omanis in the Malindi quarters of Zanzibar was recorded on 15 March 1925 (ZNA AB 70/2). ‘Manga’ were at the root of another set of disturbances, first in Pemba in 1928, that were essentially directed against Indian shopkeepers (ZNA AB 70/3). In 1936, the ‘Manga riots’ took place

10 In order to stop the proliferation of political protest in Zanzibar, the ZNU was dissolved by the British colonial administration only a few months after its foundation in 1953. Its founder, Amad Lamkī, was accused of sedition, together with other members of the Arab Association, due to his anti-British activities, specifically, a series of anti-British articles in al-Falaq in 1954, and was imprisoned in June 1954 (Babu 1991: 223; Lodhi 1986: 413 and Mbogoni 2005: 198ff). Zanzibar: the historical setting 35 in Zanzibar Town. Disturbances such as these worried the British colonial administration and showed that Zanzibar’s peace was rather superficial (Sheriff 2001a: 310ff). The riots of the 1920s and 1930s were largely motivated by economic matters, however, and mobilization for politics started only in the late 1940s. Political agitation became visible for the first time in the form of a strike by the harbour workers from March to June 1946, the establishment of a first labour union, the Labour Association in October 1946, a shop closure protest on 12 December 1947, and a general strike in Zanzibar Town that lasted from 20 August to 11 September 1948 (see Clayton 1976: 31ff and Sheriff/Ferguson 1991: 203). Signs of organized protest were also visible in 1954 in the context of the rebellion of peasant farmers and cattle holders in Kiembe Samaki, a village approximately 3.5 kilometres south of Zanzibar Town, where the British colonial administration planned to extend the airport. These extension works would have affected a mosque on a piece of land that was earmarked for the extension (Purpura 1997: 178). The protest of the rural population was connected with resistance against inoculation measures adopted by the British colonial administration against the spread of anthrax. In 1954, peasants who thought that the British government wanted to kill their cattle by vaccination11 started a riot that became known as the vita vya ng’ombe, the ‘cattle war’ (Babu 1991: 221). In the context of the farmers’ protests, dozens of farmers were imprisoned and fined but liberated from the courthouse by fellow farmers. In the subsequent march on the ‘Kiinua Miguu’ prison, where other farmers were kept pris- oner, the British police killed five farmers. This radicalized the Kiembe Samaki farmers and they subsequently supported the establishment, in 1955, of the izb al-Waan li-Ri āyā Sulān, the ‘National Party of the Sultan’s People’, or ‘Hizbu’ by al-ājj (Haji) usayn (B72; Shao 1992: 39/40). The protest of the Kiembe Samaki farmers was supported by young and radical members of the Arab Association such as Amad Lamki who had formed, in 1953, the ZNU (Babu 1991: 223). In December 1955, ‘Hizbu’ joined the ZNU which soon became the ZNP, but continued to be labelled ‘Hizbu’ (Babu 1991: 223, Lodhi 1986: 413 and Mapuri 1996: 17). The time of politics, zama za siasa, started definitively with the foundation of the ZNP

11 The British had in fact already killed 33 cattle in 1944, suspecting rinderpest. See Shao 1992: 39. 36 chapter two and the agitation of the ZNU radicals, in particular, Lamkī and Abd al-Ramān Muammad ‘Babu’ (B16; see also below). The formation of the ZNP triggered the establishment of a plethora of other parties, 23 in total (Babu 1991: 224), but only one group, the Afro-Shirazi Union (ASU), that was renamed Afro-Shirazi Party (ASP) in 1959, acquired corresponding political importance (Clayton 1981: 39). Zanzibar’s newspapers were another major platform for the expression of opinion and protest in colonial times. Although circu- lation rarely surpassed 1,000 printed copies per week (see Ayani 1970: 74), readership was much larger. Zanzibar’s first newspaper was the Gazette for Zanzibar and East Africa that had been established in 1893, to become the Official Gazette in 1894; in addition, there was Shamba (‘Farm’), an early official paper for farmers. In 1910, the izb al-Ilā (‘Party of Reform’) established the journal al-Najā (‘Progress’), as edited by Abū Muslim al-Rawwāī (B153; Ziddy 2002a: 16 and Hoffman 2007: 23).Qism al-Arab (‘The Arab Section’) was started during WWI, while the Indian community had edited Akhbār (‘News’) since 1907, a journal that later became The Samachar, as edited by Fazel J. Master, a weekly paper that appeared on Sundays. The Samachar, like most papers, stopped publication after the revolution, in 1968. In 1922, Biharlal N. Anantani established the Zanzibar Voice, a weekly paper which also stopped publication in 1968. This was followed by al-Falaq (The Dawn) in 1929. In 1927, L.W. Hollingsworth established the Normal Magazine (at the Government Central School), the first school paper, which later became Mazungumzo ya Walimu (‘Teachers’ Talk’), and still later, in 1932, Mazungumzo, then, finally, The Seyyid Khalifa School Magazine, a monthly paper; Zanzibari was established in 1939, while Mwongozi (‘Guide’, its motto being ‘Gazeti la adabu, umoja na elimu’) followed in 1941 (Mwongozi, 20.2.1948, see also Hamdan 1981). A major paper for the Indian community was The Adal Ināf (‘The Just and Fair’), as established in 1948 by Rati Bulsara. The Adal Ināf was a weekly paper, published on Sundays. In addition, there were a number of smaller and often specialized papers such as Mkulima (‘Farmer’), a farmer’s paper that was established after WWI; al-Nah a (‘Rebirth’), as published from 1951 to 1954 or Maarifa (‘Knowledge’), 1952-64, a weekly government paper. The most important newspaper, however, was al-Falaq (‘Dawn’) the voice of the Arab Association and, according to its own slogan, ‘the only Zanzibar: the historical setting 37 organ of Arab opinion on current topics’. Al-Falaq was the most influential Arab paper, initially edited by Hāshil b. Rashīd al-Miskirī (B123; 1925-31).12 Apart from al-Falaq, Arab and ZNP interests were represented by Mwongozi which appeared every Friday and had contributions in Arabic, English and Swahili. From 1953 it was edited by Alī Musin al-Barwānī who loved to quote the writings of Abdallāh āli al-Farsy (see below). From 1961, Mwongozi was edited by Amad Sayf al-Kharūī (B95, chapter 7). From 1959, Amad Lamkī wrote the editorial for the Arab edition of Mwongozi, al-Murshid (‘The guide’). Another important journal of ‘Arab’ orientation was Mwangaza (‘Searchlight’), ‘the organ of independent popular opinion’, published from 1954 to 1960, a paper that appeared in Kiswahili and English. It was edited by Abdallāh Amūr Sulaymān and was politically close to the Zanzibar and Pemba Peoples’ Party (ZPPP) and the Sultan. A major topic of Zanzibari pre-independence public discourses, newspaper coverage and political discussions, in particular as far as ‘Arab’ opinion was concerned, was the revolution in Egypt in 1952 and the role which revolutionary Egypt acquired in the history of de-colonization, in particular in Africa. The revolution and subsequent take-over of power by Jamāl Abd al-Nāir, the nationalization of the Suez Canal in 1956, and the international crisis in which Egypt emerged victorious against France, Britain and Israel, were exciting events for Zanzibari public debates. The Suez crisis, in particular, was discussed widely in Zanzibar (IC82, 12 August 2002). Egyptian politics in fact turned out to be a major factor in the politicisation of Zanzibaris in the 1950s. Egypt’s image as a major power in the region was enhanced in 1962 in the context of the Egyptian intervention in Yemen, when Egypt decided to support the new military regime in the Yemen against the troops of the imām. The importance of Egypt for Zanzibar’s public discourse was reflected in the media coverage of Egyptian events after 1956 in the leading Zanzibar newspapers, in particular al-Falaq, as shown by articles and headlines such as

12 Hāshil b. Rashīd al-Miskirī was followed as editor by Muammad b. Sālim b. Hilāl al-Barwānī (B28; 1931-45), Muammad b. Nāir Lamkī (B106; 1945-49), then Hāshil b. Rashīd al-Miskirī again in 1949, followed by Sayf b. umūd Fayal (B47; 1949/50), Sa īd b. Sālim al-Rawwāī (B150; 1951/52) and Hāshil b. Rashīd al-Miskirī (1952/53) again (al-Falaq, 31.3.1954). From 1954, al-Falaq was edited by Amad Lamkī, but had to stop publication, like almost all papers, after the revolution in 1964 (see Hamdan 1981). 38 chapter two

‘Zanzibar supports Egypt’ (al-Falaq, 14.11.1956) or (al-Falaq, 7.11.1956): ‘Demonstration of solidarity with Egypt in Mnazi Moja in the context of the Suez crisis’, a public rally where the Chief Qā ī, Umar b. Sumay, spoke, and where women took part, for the first time, in a public rally that was directed against the British occupation of the Suez-Canal zone on 3 October 1956. In 1957, the reports about Suez continued and were very critical of British policies. The same is true of 1958. Other papers, such as Mwongozi and Mwangaza, also reported about the Suez crisis and the war in Algeria. In 1958, a first group of students from Zanzibar was sent to Egypt, mostly to al- Azhar, on the basis of grants that had been provided by the Egyptian President Jamāl Abd al-Nāir to Alī Musin al-Barwānī in the context of a visit to Egypt and Ghana. Such patronage was part of Jamāl Abd al-Nāir’s plan of making Cairo a centre of anti-colonial politics, providing free office space, salaries, unlimited air travel and scholarships (Burgess 2002: 21).13 Zanzibar’s close ties with Egypt were commemorated in an article in Dira (21.2.2003) on the history of Zanzibar in the 1950s and 1960s, titled Zanzibar na Jumuiya ya Afrika Mashariki (‘Zanzibar and the East African Community’), which showed a photograph of Karume and Jamāl Abd al-Nāir during the latter’s state visit to Zanzibar in 1965 (Dira 21.2.2003). Ties with Jamāl Abd al-Nāir’s Egypt, where hundreds of Zanzibaris had studied and lived since the late 1950s, were so strong, in fact, that they survived the revolution of 1964, at least until 1965: despite Karume’s anti-Arab politics in Zanzibar, he maintained friendly relations with Egypt, possibly as Egypt could be seen as having had similar experiences to Zanzibar: the Egyptian revolution had ousted a corrupt monarchy, started a socialist regime and fought against the bastions of ‘feudalism’ in the Arab world, such as the imām of Yemen.

13 Alī Musin al-Barwānī had tried to visit Egypt in early 1958, during a journey through a number of African countries in the context of the emergence of the non- aligned states movement as formed by India, Indonesia and Egypt. These activities triggered the suspicions of the British. They interrupted Alī Musin al-Barwānī’s journey to Cairo at Nairobi airport and sent him back to Zanzibar (Aley 1984: 61). The fact that Alī Musin al-Barwānī still travelled to Ghana and Cairo later in the year, and met Jamāl Abd al-Nāir, was seen by Zanzibari nationalists as a major success. His efforts regarding grants for Zanzibari students soured British feelings even more, in particular, when he was greeted after his return to Zanzibar by thousands of followers at Chake Chake airport (Aley 1988: 87). Zanzibar: the historical setting 39

The views of the Africans as represented by the ASP were expressed in papers such as Afrika Kwetu (‘Our Africa’), established in 1948 by Mtoro Rehani (B154), a weekly paper published on Thursdays, and edited by Abdallāh Amūr Sulaymān and Sālim M. S. Hilal, which ceased publication in 1964 when the owner, Mtoro Rehani, became mayor of Zanzibar Town. Another ‘African’ paper was Agozi, a weekly that was established in 1959 (and prohibited in 1962) and edited by Jamal Ramadhan Nasibu (B140; see Glassman 2000a). Agozi was also affiliated with the Zanzibar African Youth Movement, the organizational basis of the intellectual and, at least in part, radical groups within the ASP that were led by Jamal Ramadhan Nasibu, who was a close friend of Amad Lamkī and Othman Sharif. Nasibu had studied at Makerere University, together with Ali Musin al-Barwānī and Abdallah Kassim Hanga (B58). In addition to reports on everyday life as well as social events, all of these papers cultivated the theme of education. Thus, almost every edition of al-Falaq contained an article on educational issues, such as at-talīm wa-mashākil (sic: ‘the education and problems’), on 8 July 1939. In the early 1950s, al-Falaq was becoming significantly more religious in its topics, and in addition there were now articles not only in English and Arabic but also in Kiswahili, as well as reports of football matches, such as ‘Malindi wins again’ on 30 May 1951. But articles on issues such as al-mar a wa-l-talīm (‘women and education’, al-Falaq, 15.10.1953) also continued to appear. Another important platform for the development of Zanzibar’s pre-independence public discourse was Sauti ya Unguja, Zanzibar’s local radio station that started on 15 March 1951. Zanzibar’s newspapers and journals as well as the radio played a major role in the development of racialist discourses in the 1950s and early 1960s, as Jonathon Glassman has observed (Glassman 2000a and 2004). Questions of race thus not only bothered the British but were central to the disputes among Zanzibaris. Yet, while the British argued openly along racialist lines, Zanzibaris stressed regionalist perspectives, differentiating between islanders and mainlanders (Purpura 1997: 168). ASP propaganda thus emerged from patterns of racialist thinking that had been fairly pervasive in Zanzibar as cultivated by both British administrators and teachers as well as the Arabophone elite (see Glassman 2004). And even if the ZNP advocated an inclusive form of nationalism (see below) that appealed to indigenous Muslim ‘Shirazi’ populations by presenting loyalty to the Sultan and 40 chapter two

Zanzibar’s Islamic legacy as a common ground for a ‘Zanzibari’ identity, the ZNP discourse of ‘Zanzibari nationalism’ came to reject immigrant Africans as (non-Muslim) ‘mainlanders’. These African populations were consequently represented in politics by the ASU/ ASP as led by Abeid Amani Karume. Karume was also able to win over the majority of the ‘Hadimu fringe’ of Unguja’s ‘Shirazi’ populations who, by contrast to Pemba ‘Shirazi’ Africans, could point to a history of dispossession by Arab and Indian plantation owners since the 19th century (see Glassman 2004). The 1950s were thus ridden by quarrels concerning questions such as who could legitimately claim to be an indigenous Zanzibari. Strategies of exclusion were turned against almost every group in Zanzibar, leading to riots in 1961 (see below) and affected the course of the 1964 revolution (Glassman 2000a: 397/8). Questions of race influenced the process of politics after 1956/7, as political movements tried to discredit their political opponents by calling them foreign. In 1957 the ZNP for instance tried to discredit Karume by accusing him of not being an authentic Zanzibari and taking him to court on account of this. Karume won the respective court case, however (Babu 1991: 226). The ASU was less known for an anti-colonial stance than for its anti-Arab polemics which were particularly directed against ‘criminal’ Manga and Shiiris from Oman and Yemen (Glassman 2000a: 407). At the same time, the ASP sought to foster solidarity with the African immigrants from the ‘mainland’. Questions of race finally played an important role with respect to the debate as to which language was to become Zanzibar’s major language in education (see chapter 6). Generally, the idea was widely spread in colonial circles that any kind of policy, including educational policies, ‘had to take into account racial characteristics of the Indian, Arab and African elements’ of the population (PRO CO 688/13). While political mobilization acquired increasing momentum from the mid-1950s, the question as to when Zanzibar would regain its independence became a paramount issue of political debates in the early 1960s, and eventually led to a split within both political blocks, ZNP and ASU. In political terms the ZNP, representing the island’s elites, supported Zanzibari nationalism and immediate independence. The party was originally backed by Arab landlords and shop owners, but advocated a non-racialist nationalistic program and thus won support in the Indian community as well as among Shirazi groups in Pemba. At the same time, ZNP became known for its Zanzibar: the historical setting 41 polemics against immigrants from the mainland (Glassman 2000a: 407). In 1960, an ideological dispute developed in the ZNP, when ZNP youth voiced dissident ideas with respect to the question of Arab privileges in Zanzibar and what should be done about them. A minority group which later formed the nucleus of the Umma party even supported the overthrow of the Sultan and the distribution of land to African farmers, while a majority was against such radical policies (Burgess 2005: 218ff). The strategic alliance with the ZPPP (see below), as well as the increasingly conservative character of the ZNP, created problems of orientation for the radical members of the ZNP, however, who eventually left ZNP to form Umma, depriving ZNP of its progressive wing. The split between the progressive wing of the ZNP under ‘Babu’ and the conservative wing under Alī Musin al-Barwānī was triggered by a British sedition and arson charge against ‘Babu’ that eventually turned out to be groundless. Still, ‘Babu’ was imprisoned and subsequently left the ZNP. Just before the June 1963 elections, ‘Babu’ and his followers established the Umma party which was recruited predominantly among ZNP Youth League members (Burgess 2005: 224ff). Apart from ‘Babu’, leading members of the Umma party were Ali Sultan Issa (B74), Ali Mahfudh (B111), Ahmad ‘Badawi’ b. Abibakar ‘Shibli’ Qullatayn (B145), Khamis Abdallah Ameir (B12) and Salim Ahmad Salim (B162; Burgess 2005: 236).14 The second major political party, ASU (Afro-Shirazi Union), renamed Afro-Shirazi Party (ASP) in 1959, had actually been founded at a meeting on 1 February 1957, by, amongst others, Abeid Amani Karume, Abdallah Kassim Hanga, and Ibrahim Saadalla from the African Association, as well as Thabit Kombo (B101), Ameir Tajo ‘Mdogo’ (B173), Othman Sharif and others from the Shirazi Association (Mapuri 1996: 20 and Clayton 1981: 41). Other founding members were Bakari Jabu, Mtoro Rehani, Ali Juma Seif, Rajab Swedi, Mtumwa Borafia, Salehe Juma and Mzee Salehe Mapete from the African Association (Mapuri 1996: 20). After the first elections in 1957, the ASU and mainlander organizations joined up in Unguja, although not in Pemba, where ASU members, like the ZNP, supported early independence and opposed the increasing influence of

14 After the 1963 elections,Umma allegedly also discussed a possible ‘revolution’ with the leaders of the ASP Youth League, in particular Seif Bakari (B19), Abdallah Said Natepe (B142) and Yusuf Himid (B64; Burgess 2005: 238). 42 chapter two

‘mainlanders’ within the ASU. In Unguja, by contrast, the ASU, supported by a majority of the ‘Hadimu fringe’ in Unguja and African immigrant populations (Bakari 2001: 60), rejected immediate independence under the slogan Uhuru, zuia (stop independence), arguing that the country was not yet prepared: should Zanzibar become independent too early, ‘the Arabs would take over and reinstitute slavery’ (‘Babu’ 1991: 231). Due to its anti-Arab polemics, the ASU appeared to be even more racialist than the ZNP (Bakari 2001: 60). However, the decision of the ASU to reject immediate independence brought about a split within the ASU: in October 1959, Ameir Tajo, who led the Shirazi Association Unguja, was excluded from the ASU on account of allegations of financial mismanagement (Bakari 2001: 57). In December 1959, together with Muhammad Shamte (B163) and a number of other political activists from Pemba, he founded a new party, the Zanzibar and Pemba Peoples’ Party (ZPPP). The ZPPP soon won the support of Ali Sharif Musa (B139) and Abdul Wakil Nombe (Mapuri 1996: 24) and entered into an alliance with the ZNP, strengthening its national orientation (‘Babu’ 1991: 232). The split- ting off of the Pemba fraction was a severe blow to the ASU. After the 1961 elections, when the ASP won only two seats in Pemba (while three went to the ZPPP), Ali Sharif Musa again left the ZPPP and joined the ASP, which showed the ‘unpredictability of Pemba politicians’ (Bakari 2001: 57). Like the ZNP, the ASU/ASP thus had to face infights and splits that opposed the ‘intellectuals’, as united in the ASP Youth League, established as late as 1959 and later a major force in the revolution, and the Karume fraction (‘Babu’ 1991: 241; Burgess 1999: 34). The most outspoken members of the Youth League were Seif Bakari, Yusuf Himid and Abdallah Said Natepe (Burgess 1999: 34). In 1959, this group also opposed Karume’s decision to form a short-lived strategic alliance with the ZNP, concluded under Nyerere’s pressure, in order to speed up the process of independence that was opposed by a majority in the ASP (Glassman 2000a: 423/4). Representation in the Legislative Council (LegCo) was another key issue of pre-independence politics. While the LegCo had been dominated until 1945 by British as well as Arab and Indian nominated members, the LegCo started to change its character after 1945. In 1946, Ameir Tajo, a ‘Hadimu’ from Makunduchi became the first African member of the LegCo, and Ali Sharif Musa from Pemba followed in 1947 (Clayton 1981: 39; Bowles 1991: 100; Mapuri 1996: 24). In 1947, the LegCo had sixteen members: eight British officials Zanzibar: the historical setting 43 as well as eight members nominated by the British government from the local population. Since 1947, these unofficial members of the LegCo were one European, three Arabs, two Indians and two ‘Shirazi’ (Ameir Tajo from Unguja and Ali Sharif Musa from Pemba). In March 1954, the British Resident, John Rankine, proposed to expand the LegCo to twenty-four seats, twelve of them being nominated representatives of the local population. He also suggested reforming the existing distribution of seats, a proposal that was implemented in June 1955 by Resident Sir Henry Porter (Mapuri 1996: 16). When the proposals for the new allocation of seats in the LegCo were published in 1954, the Arab Association protested, however, as the new allocation would have given four seats to Africans, four to Arabs, three to Indians and one to a European member of the LegCo. African members would thus have achieved the same strength in the LegCo as Arabs. Only one (Arab) member of the LegCo, Alī Sulān al-Mughayrī (B134), did not reject this plan (Mapuri 1996: 16). As a consequence, and also in reaction to the imprisonment of some members of the Association in June 1953, the Arab Association with- drew its members from the LegCo, with the exception of Alī Sulān al-Mughayrī, and started a non-cooperation campaign that entailed, among other things, a boycott of the LegCo which lasted from June 1954 to March 1956. The boycott of the LegCo was stopped only when the British government announced, in November 1955, that Zanzibar would proceed to self-government (Bowles 1991: 101; Clayton 1981: 39; al-Falaq, 12.3.1956). The assassination of Alī Sulān al-Mughayrī who had kept his seat in the LegCo between 1954 and 1955, by Muammad amūd al-Barwānī (B32) in 1956, showed how tense the political situation had become by this time (Clayton 1981: 39). With the formation of parties, the political process acquired additional steam. In 1956, the LegCo had been expanded to twenty-five members (twelve unofficial) and in 1957 six of the twelve unofficial members were to be elected in Zanzibar’s first elections (Lodhi 1986: 412). These elections were not based on the criteria of racial and communal affiliation that had defined membership in the LegCo so far, but on universal elections, although only men older than 25 with an annual minimum income of ₤75 (corresponding to 39,833 voters) were entitled to vote. Electoral districts were Zanzibar North, Zanzibar South, Pemba North, Pemba South, Stone Town and Ng’ambo (Clayton 1981: 41). These six seats were contested by 44 chapter two

seventeen candidates. In Unguja, the ASU won all three rural seats. Abeid Amani Karume also won the Ng’ambo seat against Alī Musin al-Barwānī by 3328 votes against 918 (Ayani 1970: 59), whereas the Stone Town constituency was won by the candidate of the (Indian) Muslim Association, Rati Bulsara (The Adal Ināf, 1957; ZNA AB 86/164). In Pemba both seats were won by Shirazi Independents, namely Ali Sharif Musa, who won Pemba North, and Muammad Shamte who won Pemba South (Mapuri 1996: 32 and Lodhi 1986: 415). The remaining six seats allocated to Zanzibaris as nominated by the British administration were filled with Arab candidates, Alī Musin al-Barwānī amongst others. Thus, the British again engi- neered an Arab/Indian majority in the LegCo (Lodhi 1986: 415; see the results of the elections in appendix III). In January 1961, another next round of elections was held, and as the voting age had been lowered to 21 years, 94,310 voters were now entitled to vote. Although the ASP again scored an absolute majority of votes, the party, due to the British majority voting system, only got ten seats (eight in Unguja and two in Pemba). The ZNP, by contrast, won nine seats (five in Unguja: three in Zanzibar Town, one in the plantation areas, one in Tumbatu as well as four in Pemba). The ZPPP won three seats in Pemba, yet split into two factions after the elections: Ali Sharif Musa rejoined the ASP, whereas Shamte and Mohamed Bakari who held the other two seats for Pemba, joined the ZNP (Mapuri 1996: 32). Each political block now held eleven seats in the Parliament. Due to the stalemate in the January 1961 elections, another round of elections was held in early June 1961. In order to prevent future blockades, Pemba got an additional seat in the Parliament. The failure of the ASP to win a decisive majority of seats in the January 1961 elections and resulting frustration, eventually triggered fighting between ZNP and ASP supporters in Zanzibar’s streets on 1 June 1961. The riots started in Zanzibar Town, where seventeen people were killed, and then spread to the rural areas, where ‘Manga’ were the major victims. Sixty-four of the 68 dead and many of the 381 injured were Arabs (Ayani 1970: 86). These riots possibly showed radical ASP (and ZNP Youth League) members that it would be possible to overthrow a ZNP government after independence when British troops would no longer protect the regime of the Sultan (Bowles 1991: 104). In the June 1961 elections, the ASP and the ZNP won ten seats respectively, while the ZPPP won three seats. Subsequently, the ZNP and the ZPPP formed a coalition that ruled Zanzibar: the historical setting 45

Zanzibar in the next two years. In July 1963, another round of elections was organized which confirmed this political set-up: the ZNP won twelve seats (six in Zanzibar and six in Pemba), the ZPPP six seats (all Pemba), whereas the ASP gained thirteen seats (eleven in Zanzibar and two in Pemba). In absolute numbers, the ASP won an absolute majority of 54.3% of the electorate (63.2% in Unguja, 44.4% in Pemba), whereas the ZNP/ZPPP coalition had won 45.7% (36.8% in Unguja, 55.6% in Pemba) (Clayton 1981: 46). These numbers show that Pemba was not an undisputed stronghold of the ZNP/ZPPP, while Unguja was not an undisputed stronghold of the ASP. Due to the majority voting system, however, the ASP did not gain a single seat in Pemba. The ZNP and the ZPPP again formed a minority- coalition government that led Zanzibar to self-government on 24 June 1963, Muhammad Shamte being the first Prime-Minister. The LegCo became the first National Assembly, and on 10 December 1963, Zanzibar regained her independence as a Sultanate. Six days later, Zanzibar became a member state of the United Nations (Martin 1978: 57). However, the Sultanate had undergone a serious crisis after the demise of Sultan Khalīfa b. ārub, who had been in office for almost 50 years, and the death of his son and successor, Sultan Abdallāh b. Khalīfa, in 1963, for the throne had passed to Sultan Jamshīd b. Abdallāh, who was not only very young but also highly unpopular and regarded as a ‘playboy’. He became the formal ruler of a state that had, in terms of economic development, the second highest per-capita income in sub-Saharan Africa after Ghana, a well educated population, an excellent infrastructure, and an economy rich in potential despite its dependence on world market prices for cloves, the major cash-crop.

2.5. The Revolution in Zanzibar in 1964 and Beyond: mapinduzi daima? Pre-independence and pre-revolutionary Zanzibar was characterized, in the 1950s and early 1960s, by disputes among and between the supporters of two major political blocks as represented by the ZNP and the ASP. The ASP, though winning majorities of the vote in the elections of January and June 1961, as well as those of June 1963, had been unable to win a corresponding majority of seats in the LegCo against a coalition of ZNP and ZPPP. As a consequence, the British Protectorate administration as led by the British High 46 chapter two

Commissioner, T.H. Crosthwait, handed over power to a ZNP-ZPPP coalition government led by Prime Minister Muhammad Shamte on 10 December 1963. This first government of independent Zanzibar was seen by both the ASP and British observers as a government which represented the interests of the ‘Arab’ establishment (PRO DO 185/68): At independence, power was handed over to an Arab-dominated coalition, which had, however, a substantial following among the Africans. This government was prepared to support, or at any rate to bear with, the Sultanate which was in the hands of an inexperienced, selfish, arro- gant and generally disliked young man (Sultan Jamshīd, RL) (Cros- thwait to the ‘British Land Forces Kenya’, BLFK-Liaison Conference Zanzibar, and to Duncan Sandys, Secretary of State for Commonwealth Relations, 22 July 1964). Even though this assessment was misleading, as only two ministers ( Alī Musin al-Barwānī and Dr. Aydarūs Bā Alawī) were of ‘Arab’ origin, while one was of Indian (Amirali Abdulrasul), two (Maulid ‘Mshangana’ al-Haj and Ibuni Saleh) of Comorian, and five (Muham- mad Shamte, Juma Aley, Salim Kombo, Abadhar Juma Khatib and Rashid Hamadi) of Shirazi origin (IC67, 29.3.2005; Central Office of Information Reference Pamphlet, 60, Zanzibar, 1963), it nevertheless expressed the political realities after independence, which meant the exclusion from power of a large group of ‘mainland’ Africans as well as the majority of the ‘Hadimu fringe’. After independence, tensions thus continued, and even increased when the new government started to implement a number of decisions which confirmed existing ‘African’ anxieties. Thus, the Government dismissed all servicemen of mainland origin in the police forces arguing that the government was not able any more to finance their salaries due to a crisis in clove exports and subsequent budgetary problems. At the same time, the government was not able or willing to finance the repatriation of these servicemen. As a consequence, disgruntled ex-policemen, as organized by John Okello (B143), were increasingly prepared to revolt against the government (Clayton 1981: 53). Also, the new government started to hit out against prominent opponents, in particular the Umma party which was prohibited by the Shamte administration on 6 January 1964. In order to escape imprisonment, the Umma leader, ‘Babu’, fled to Dar es Salaam on 8 January 1964 and returned to Zanzibar only on 13 January, after the overthrow of the Shamte government (Clayton 1981: 69 and 77; Prunier 1998: 105). The Zanzibar: the historical setting 47

revolutionary uprising as such took place on the morning of 12 January 1964, one month after independence, and was led by John Okello and his followers in the police forces, supported by disgruntled youths (‘Lumpen’) from the Ng’ambo areas. The revolutionaries did not encounter much resistance and had occupied all major strategic positions by noon (see Clayton 1981, Petterson 2002, Mrina/ Mattoke 1980, Wimmelbücker 2001 and Loimeier 2006c). On the evening of 12 January 1964, Okello proclaimed himself Minister of Defence, while Abeid Amani Karume was declared President. Kassim Hanga, who, together with Seif Bakari, had organized the ASP Youth League, was nominated Vice-President, and ‘Babu’ became Minister of External Affairs, although all three, Karume, ‘Babu’ and Hanga, were still, at this point of time, in Dar es Salaam, and came back to Zanzibar only on the next day. Other members of the ASP, such as Aboud Jumbe (Health and Social Services), Othman Sharif (Education), Hasnu Makame (Agriculture and Finance), Idris Abdul Wakil (Commerce) and Saleh Saadalla (Agriculture), were also proclaimed ministers. After the return of Karume, ‘Babu’ and Hanga from Dar es Salaam, further nominations were announced. The former ruling parties, ZNP and ZPPP were proscribed and replaced by a ‘Committee of 14’ (see appendix II j; Clayton 1981: 79).15 The revolution assumed a more organized character with the gradual take-over of power on 14 January and the following days by ASPYL and Umma cadres who formed, from 16 January, the Revolutionary Council (RC, see appendix II l), in

15 The ‘Committee of 14’ which took over the leadership of the revolution after the first hours of the uprising, before being replaced by the Revolutionary Council (RC), consisted of revolutionaries of mainly mainland origin, some closely linked with the leader of the ASP, Karume (Burgess 1999: 34; Clayton 1981: 54; Mrina/Mat- toke 1980: 94; see appendix). Interestingly enough, a number of leading revolutionaries of mainland origin closely linked with Okello were missing, at an early point of time, in the ‘Committee of 14’, as well as in the Revolutionary Council: Mzee Kenya, a Tanganyikan police bugler, Joseph Mugambwa alias Matias Simba, Mzee Muham- mad, as well as Absolom Amoi Ingen, who was deported to the mainland in late February 1964 (Clayton 1981: 55/122; Okello 1967: 118). Also missing was Ibrahim Makungu who became notorious as an executioner in the first weeks and months of the revolution. His brutality was attested by Markus Wolf, the East German ‘security advisor’ who had been sent to Zanzibar in early 1964 for a period of three months to train the new Zanzibari ‘state security’ (Schneppen 2003: 528). Among Ibrahim Makungu’s most prominent victims were Amour Zahor (B181), the Inspector of Police, Muammad b. Sālim b. Hilāl al-Barwānī (B28) and Muammad amūd al-Barwānī, all executed in the Mtoni detention camp (Bakari 2001: 111; al-Barwani 1996: 237). 48 chapter two which only Okello and Abdallah Mfarinyaki represented the group of original revolutionaries. Anarchic killings went on for some time in the rural areas, though, and other acts of ‘revolutionary violence’ and abuse of power were still rampant. At the same time, control over the revolution passed into Zanzibari hands. In Raha Leo, the new revolutionary centre of Zanzibar, Karume, Babu, Hanga and the other revolutionaries formed a revolutionary leadership which on 24 January proclaimed the first revolutionary government of Zanzibar (see appendix II k). By 24 January, it was clear that Okello and his group had lost their influence over the government and the RC. Okello himself was deported, on 20 February 1964 to mainland Tanganyika (Clayton 1981: 93). In the new RC, led by Abeid Amani Karume, the radical group under the leadership of ‘Babu’ now became increasingly influential. British intelligence even maintained that ‘the real power lies with the Revolutionary Council and the PLA (People’s Liberation Army) as led by Yusuf Himid (ASPYL) and Ali Mahfudh (UMMA)’ (PRO DO 185/51). Zanzibar was renamed the ‘People’s Republic of Zanzibar and Pemba’ and a policy of nationalization started which was to considerably change the social set-up of Zan- zibar. After Okello had been excluded from power the competition for control of the revolution continued and concentrated on the struggle between the ‘moderates’, the ‘radicals’ and the ‘Karume group’. The Karume group consisted mostly of ASP cadres, in particular Seif Bakari, Aboud Jumbe, Thabit Kombo, Said Idi Bavuai, Abdallah Said Natepe, the secretary of the ASP Youth League and others (see Burgess 1999, Clayton 1981, Loimeier 2006c, Petterson 2002 and Wimmelbücker 2001, but also Okello 1967/71). The radicals, as led by ‘Babu’, comprised, amongst others, intellectuals and civil servants such as Ahmad ‘Badawi’ Abubakar ‘Shibli’ Qullatayn, a former customs officer, Khamis Hussein Abeid, the area commissioner for Donge, A.S.-R.M. Kwacha, an ex-teacher and General Secretary of the Umma party, Khamis Abdallah Ameir, the Secretary of the Maritime and Allied Workers Union, Ali Sultan Issa, Salim Rashid and Ali Mahfudh (all Umma, Clayton 1981: 110), as well as some radical ASPYL members such as Kassim Hanga, Hassan Nasser Moyo and Abd al-Aziz Twala. This group effectively managed to marginalize the ‘moderates’ which comprised, amongst others, Othman Sharif, Hasnu Makame, Idris Abdul Wakil and Saleh Saadallah, who had left ASP in January 1964, just before the revolution, as it had become Zanzibar: the historical setting 49

‘too radical’, but then rejoined ASP after the revolution (Clayton 1981: 65ff; Burgess 2005: 240). Othman Sharif, in particular, seems to have opposed Karume and to have asked for a ‘government of national unity’ (Othman 2004: 8). On 26 April, the internal struggle for power more or less came to an end, however, when Karume agreed to form a union with Tanganyika. In the context of the formation of a union government with Tanganyika, Karume was able to marginalize the major remaining threat to his power, as many radical members of his government such as Hanga, Babu and Moyo were nominated to fill union government posts in Dar es Salaam (Clayton 1981: 114). As a consequence, Zanzibar’s development became increasingly dominated by Karume and his supporters (Clayton 1981: 119). While the revolution of 12 January 1964 put an end to more than 130 years of Omani rule in Zanzibar, the new revolutionary regime that had come to power changed Zanzibar’s social structure, political set-up, and economic development in basic ways. Under the slogan ‘Mapinduzi daima’ (‘revolution forever’) the revolutionary rulers since 1964 turned into a new elite united by a strong sense of power. After the first days of the revolution, the chaotic character of the original days was slowly replaced by a more ordered organization of power, mainly in the hands of Umma and ASP cadres. During this process, the Umma party merged with the ASP, on 8 March 1964, and became even more influential in the administration and the armed forces (Burgess 2005: 240). After Zanzibar’s political merger with Tanganyika, the political situation in Zanzibar gradually calmed down. Many radical supporters of the revolution were transferred to the mainland or to Tanzanian delegations abroad, and Karume continued to rule in Zanzibar virtually unchallenged. His reign may be characterized as a constant effort to marginalize possible competitors and to monopolize access to power. The consolidation of the revolution was expressed in a series of decisions by the new government, as well as by the implementation of a number of ‘socialist’ programs, such as land distribution, housing, state management of import and export trade, state marketing of the clove harvest and mass education (Burgess 1999: 40). Of lasting impact were housing and building programs in Kikwajuni and Michenzani, but also Makunduchi and other rural places; at the same time, 90% of Stone Town residents were forced to leave their houses which were ‘temporarily’ taken by Michenzani 50 chapter two residents who had had to make place for the building of the ‘East German’ Michenzani blocks (IC35, 20.7.2002). On 18 January 1964, existing deeds on land were annulled and all land was nationalized on 8 March 1964. Every citizen was in fact entitled to a share of three acres of land, and the ‘eka tatu’ decree provided for allocation of the landed properties of 72 (mostly Arab) families and 743 plantations (41/557 in Pemba; 31/181 in Unguja; see Maliyamkono 2000: 81-2). However, proper land distribution was implemented only from 1967 onward, by Hassan Nasser Moyo, as well as Taher Adnan, a follower of ‘Babu’ and a graduate of Makerere and Oxford. Land distribution was based on decree 5 of 1966 that divided estates into three-acre plots that were handed over to tenant farmers on a life-lease basis, while the state remained the ultimate owner of the land. In Unguja, the major part of the land (approximately 40,000 acres) was reallocated to squatters from the mainland, mostly in the area of Mfenesini, Kianga, Mwakaji, Mwera, Mbuzini and Chuini, while most of the land reallocated in Pemba (approximately 26, 000 acres) went to local farmers (see Maliyamkono 2000: 81-2). The groups that particularly profited from these policies, at least in formal terms, were the local farmers in Pemba. In Unguja, the immigrant plantation workers and tenant farmers from the ‘Hadimu fringe’ got deeds for the land they had often already share-cropped. In February 1972, 71,145 acres had been distributed (Clayton 1981: 138). Also, a number of state farms, Upenja, Mtoni and Mahonda, were set up, in addition to an experimental farm in Kizimbani. However, as the three-acre allotments were not equal in value, due to variations in the number of clove, palm and fruit trees, land distribution was necessarily linked to irreg- ularities (Shao 1992: 56ff). The new regime also established a trade monopoly. All registered import and export shops had to close down as a consequence. On 8 October 1964, the Clove Growers’ Association was nationalized and the Zanzibar State Trading Corporation (ZSTC) became the sole importer and exporter for cloves, while the External Trade Corporation became sole importer and exporter of all other trade goods. On 1 November 1964, a first state shop was opened in Miembini (Martin 1978: 59/61). The nationalization of trade and economy, as symbolized by the creation of the ZSTC led to the collapse of the economy in just a few years. From June 1971, Zanzibar in fact relied on a system of food rationing for rice, flour and sugar, based on food cards and the central distribution of food through Zanzibar: the historical setting 51

27 state shops. This system was introduced in order to curb the import of these products: Karume did not want to spend three million Shillingi per month to import food and instead wanted to stimulate local food production (Clayton 1981: 134; ‘Babakerim’ 1975/1994: 1). Between 1970/71 and 1972/73, Zanzibar thus had to import food for an annual value of about ₤1,840,000, while clove exports rose to an annual value of ₤10,647,000, a development closely connected with a world market boom for cloves from Pemba since 1965. This boom enabled the Karume administration to build a stock of ₤25,833,000 in foreign earnings by 1972 (Martin 1978: 61). The clove export boom was characterized, however, by a harsh regime in respect of the clove producers, who got only a minimal share of the world market price. Many Pemban clove producers thus tried to smuggle their cloves to Kenya and to sell them in Mombasa for world market prices, even if this trade was illegal and could be punished by death (Martin 2007: 116). In cultural terms, English was replaced by Kiswahili as the national language on 20 January 1964. The English club was nationalized on 8 March 1964 and on 11 April 1964, all British and American expatriates, about five hundred in number, were asked to leave Zanzibar by the end of the month (Clayton 1981: 101). On 5 March 1964, rickshas were prohibited as a symbol of ‘feudal exploitation’. On 7 July 1964, the government took control over all schools. Zanzibar’s symbolic centres of power shifted from Stone Town and the sea front to Ng’ambo, and in particular to Raha Leo, where Radio Zanzibar, the new ‘People’s Court’ and a recreation park were created (IC26, 19.7.2004). Shops that had printed books and papers in Arabic were closed and periodicals such as al-Falaq or The Adal Ināf were stopped. The judicial system was profoundly changed as well: in 1966, the Qā ī Courts were abolished by the ‘Courts Decree’, as were the mudir courts. The prerogatives of the courts were newly defined, although Qā īs retained jurisdiction in civil matters with only minor changes (Hanak 1994: 70; Hashim 2005: 37). On 1 January 1970, Revolutionary Courts replaced the legal system that had existed since colonial times (Martin 1978: 64). Yet, in 1985, the ‘Qā īs’s Courts Act’ re-established Qā ī Courts, although jurisdiction remained confined to personal status, until the ‘Written Laws Act’ of 2003 expanded the Qā īs’ jurisdiction to all aspects of civil law (see Hashim 2005: 37-8). 52 chapter two

As a result of the revolution and its aftermath, Zanzibar’s demo- graphic structure changed decisively, due not so much to the fact that some thousands of Zanzibaris were killed in the first days and weeks of the revolution, but rather due to the fact that in the years to come many who were branded as ‘non-Zanzibaris’ either were deported or forced to emigrate, or fled the islands as refugees (Bakari 2001: 79). In February and March 1964, the houses of the leading Arab and Indian families, in particular the Barwānī, Lamkī and Karimji families, had already been taken over by the government. The Indian population of Zanzibar, which had not supported the ASP or the revolution, also suffered and many Indians were killed or fled (IC18, 19.2.2001). In addition, all ‘Manga’ were expelled in 1964, and other Arabs as well as Indians (approx. 13,000) followed suit. Out of an ‘Arab’ population of about 50,000, around 12-15,000 had left Zanzibar by late 1964. 8-10,000 Arabs eventually settled in Oman (Clayton 1981: 99), while others started to redefine themselves as ‘Africans’. In 1967/68 another exodus took place as the stocks that had so far enabled the (mostly Indian) shopkeepers to sell stocked goods under black market conditions were exhausted (IC18, 13.1.2002). The situation became even more precarious when Karume, who wanted to eradicate all non-African influence in Zanzibar, announced a plan to forcefully marry girls of non-African origin to African men (Martin 1978: 70). A number of forced marriages were conducted in 1971 by Qā ī Hamid Ameir Ali, a member of the Revolutionary Council (Clayton 1981: 124). The final blow for the Indian community came on 16 March 1971, when Karume told all ‘Asians’ that they had to leave Zanzibar within a year (Clayton 1981: 123). There were 6,000 Arabs and Asians still remaining. From 30 June 1971, these groups were no longer given licenses for their shops, a decision that led to a third exodus of Asians and Arabs. In 1972 only 3,500 Arabs and Asians still lived in Zanzibar. Even small groups, such as the Comorians, were ostracized as ‘non-Zanzibaris’ by the revolution. The Comorians were declared ‘non-citizens’ in November 1968 (Kharousi 1969: 17), probably to weaken ‘Babu’ and his group of ‘Comorian’ supporters (IC 19, 15.7.2004). In total, 35,000 people left Zanzibar between 1964 and 1972 (Martin 1978: 71). The population of Pemba was most severely affected by the economic policies of the revolution and many Pembans emigrated to Kenya, but also Tanga and Dar es Salaam. Many Pembans also went to Unguja, often settled in Zanzibar Town and started companies or Zanzibar: the historical setting 53 took up qualified jobs in the administration. Parts of Ng’ambo and some parts of Stone Town have in fact become ‘Wapemba’ areas. The revolution thus led to a considerable shift in the structure of Zanzibar’s population: while in 1963 Pemba had 48% of Zanzibar’s population (as against 52% for Unguja), the 2003 census showed that two thirds of Zanzibar’s population of one million was now living in Unguja (65%), while Pemba’s share had decreased to 350,000 inhabitants (35%). These changes were linked to the continued appropriation of Pemba’s clove production for development projects on Unguja as defined by the revolutionary government and the resulting lack of development in Pemba (IC82, 8.11.2006). It has to be taken into account here that while Unguja was able to return to ‘normality’ quite rapidly after the revolution, disorder prevailed on Pemba for some months, as confirmed by British reports (PRO DO 185/51). Harassment and arbitrary imprisonment of Arab, Comorian and Indian citizens in fact continued into the 1970s (Clayton 1981: 124). In November 1964, 350 civil servants of mostly Arab origin were detained, and similar waves of arrests followed in May 1966, in March 1968, and in 1970, in the aftermath of an alleged coup attempt against Karume in 1969, as well as in April 1972, after the assassination of Karume (see Kharousi 1967 and 1969; Lodhi/ Rydström 1979: 88). The Karume years were indeed characterized by repeated rumours of coups, plots and intrigues against Karume that led, for instance, in September 1969, to the execution of Othman Sharif and Kassim Hanga. In 1971 Karume started another campaign against the remaining Arab and Indian population as well as the ‘Shirazi’, and this situation of insecurity also characterized the context of Karume’s assassination in early 1972 (Clayton 1981: 127). By the early 1970s, a militant section of the army officer corps, mostly of Umma orientation, in fact felt the revolution to have been betrayed by Karume’s regime, and on 7 April 1972 Karume was assassinated (Lodhi/Rydström 1979: 90), by, amongst others, amūd Muammad al-Barwānī.16 The coup failed, though, and the ASP leadership was able to gain control of the situation. Again, a number of politicians, civilians and army officers were imprisoned and deposed or tried in prolonged treason trials in Zanzibar. Among the 81 people jailed in

16 amūd Muammad al-Barwānī was the son of Muammad amūd al-Barwānī who had been murdered in prison in 1964 in the aftermath of the revolution (see above, Zama za Siasa). Until today, the motivations of the assassins are not clear. 54 chapter two

1972 in connection with the Karume assassination were a number of leading revolutionaries such as Ahmad b. Abu Bakr ‘Badawi’ Qullatayn, Humud Ali Abdallah Barwani, Ali Sultan Issa and Ahmad Sultan Riyami. After 1964, the emerging one-party state rapidly extended its powers of intervention into the lives of ordinary citizens by developing institutions such as an army, a security apparatus and a youth league with sub-organizations such as the Young Pioneers and the Green Guards. Citizenship in Zanzibar became synonymous with revolutionary notions of discipline, sacrifice, vigilance and volunteerism, while notions of leisure and consumption were condemned in revolutionary policies (Burgess 2002b: 290). The revolution consequently touched upon all kinds of popular culture. Karume, in particular, tended to meddle with details of everyday life. He banned make-up, shorts, mini-skirts, long hair, tight-fitting clothes and wigs, and prescribed instead school uniforms (Martin 1978: 67). Also, taarab music was prohibited and taarab clubs were closed, accused of being ‘Arab’. In addition, all public and private meetings had to be registered and approved by the Ministry of Interior. This applied not only to religious meetings such as maulidis or the celebration of the Mwaka Kogwa (New Year) festival in Makunduchi, but also to marriage ceremonies and ngomas (IC89, 13.1.2002). In 1972, Karume was about to start a campaign against moral decay and alcoholism, before he was assassinated in April 1972 (IC19, 15.7.2004). With Karume’s death and the ensuing clamp-down on remaining Umma followers, Aboud Jumbe (see chapter 7) came to power and took the first steps toward reform (Bakari 2001: 113). Jumbe’s ascent was a surprise to the hardliners, the self-styled ‘liberators’, such as Idris Abdul Wakil, yet, in the 1970s, a new fraction developed within the revolutionary elite, namely, the ‘front liners’ such as Seif Sharif Hamad and Salmin Amour, who advocated reforms and liberalization. Arbitrary politics still continued while first economic changes were introduced in 1978/79: some foreign currency was released and development program were started. Jumbe also allowed the return to a policy of food imports and initiated some measures of economic liberalization that failed, however, as international investment was not forthcoming. In addition, the old guard of Karume followers opposed reforms. At the same time, the Jumbe years became known for corruption and mismanagement (Bakari 2001: 112). While Karume was not interested in external affairs and essentially saw the Zanzibar: the historical setting 55 union with Tanganyika as a good way to get rid of radical elements in Zanzibar, Jumbe changed this policy and diverted more time to union affairs. On 22 February 1977, ASP and TANU united to form the Chama Cha Mapinduzi (Party of the Revolution, CCM). In April 1977, Tanzania adopted a new constitution and Zanzibar followed in 1979, ending a period of fifteen years of rule by decree. As a result, the Revolutionary Council was replaced by a government directed by a Prime Minister selected by the party (Crozon 1998: 126). In the context of discussions on the political future of Zanzibar and the union as well as speculation over Jumbe’s plans to strengthen the union, and possibly to underline his claim to succeed Nyerere (IC19, 16.7.2004), Aboud Jumbe was forced to resign on 24 January 1984. He was replaced by Ali Hassan Mwinyi who ruled Zanzibar until November 1985. In his time, CCM members of mainland origin were sent back to the mainland. In order to better integrate Pembans, Seif Sharif Hamad (B57) was nominated Vice Prime Minister (Crozon 1998: 128). Mwinyi’s term of office was characterized by a new impetus for reform, especially in political and economic terms. Thus, the development of tourism started and investment from the Gulf was encouraged. Arab investment perspectives, however, also raised fears among Karume’s followers that economic developments would eventually turn the clock back to pre-revolutionary times (Crozon 1998: 128). Omar R. Mapuri, for instance, interpreted the ‘Zanzibar Act’ of 1985 and other initiatives of political and economical readjustment as a sign that a policy of ‘reversal of revolution policies such as return of some nationalized houses and lands to former owners’ had started (Mapuri 1996: 73). Mwinyi also reformed the judiciary system, the Qā ī Courts now being responsible for matters pertaining to personal status, marriage, divorce and inheritance in as far as these affected Muslims. Also, a new Qā ī Court system was created, comprising nine sharīa courts, three in Pemba, six in Unguja, all manned by one Qā ī and his clerks, and a Sharīa High Court in Zanzibar with a Chief Qā ī and a deputy. This Sharīa High Court was conceived as an appellate court, from where appeals could be made to the (regular) High Court of Zanzibar, while the Union Court of Appeal was kept out of issues relating to the Qā ī’s courts (Revo lutionary Government of Zanzibar 2003; Stiles 2003: 274). When Julius Nyerere retired as President of Tanzania in 1985, Mwinyi was elected his successor, thus ending his short reign in Zanzibar. Seif Sharif Hamad’s hope to become Mwinyi’s successor 56 chapter two in Zanzibar failed, however, as a follower of Karume and a ‘liberator’, Idris Abdul Wakil, was elected as the new President of Zanzibar, by a vote of 61.2%. As a result, a conflict of power started between his supporters, the old revolutionary elite, and the ‘frontliners’ led by Seif Sharif Hamad. The reforms started by Jumbe and Mwinyi came to a standstill and a period of economic and political stagnation followed. Seif Sharif Hamad lost his position in the government in 1987 and was excluded from the CCM in May 1988. Due to his opposition to Idris Abdul Wakil, he was imprisoned in 1989 and released only in November 1991. The elections of 1990 and the succession of Salmin Amour as President of Zanzibar in 1990 did not help to overcome internal disputes, although Salmin Amour’s administration (1990-2000) was characterized, in economic terms, by a modest economic recovery, at least in the early 1990s, due to the increasing trade activities, caused by a liberal customs regime, as well as the development of tourism as a source of income. In the context of political liberalization in Tanzania in the early 1990s, a first opposition party was established in Zanzibar in September 1992, namely, the Civic United Front (CUF) under the leadership of Seif Sharif Hamad (Crozon 1998: 133). CUF was mostly recruited among former Umma party members who had formed a dissident group within ASP/CCM. In 1977 this group had, for instance, resisted the TANU-ASP merger to form CCM. By 2005, CUF had become an alliance of several opposition groups both in Zanzibar and on the Tanzanian mainland. CUF was thus not, as was claimed by CCM, a successor party to ZNP or ZPPP. Many CCM dissidents have in fact joined CUF, while others, often well educated administrative personnel from Pemba, who had joined CCM in the era of liberalization under President Mwinyi, and later Salmin Amour, joined CUF when accused, in 1996, of harbour- ing sympathies for CUF (IC82, 19.8.2003). Most key opposition politicians were, in fact, former CCM members (Bakari 2001: 168).17

17 While the CCM administration has stressed Zanzibar’s cultural links with the mainland, the CCM was also keen to show its independence from mainland politics from time to time. In 1993, the Zanzibari government thus joined the Organization of the Islamic Conference (OIC) against mainland protests (Purpura 1997: 384), and in April 2004, the House of Representatives debated whether Zanzibar should have a flag of her own. Zanzibar’s new flag was publicly presented, in fact, on 12 January 2005, but turned out to be rather close to the design of the union flag (Cameron 2005: 1). The debate over the flag issue was triggered by the fact that Zanzibar had joined the International Football Association and thus required a flag of her own (IC80, 20.4.2004). Similar insistence on independence may be observed with respect Zanzibar: the historical setting 57

In the 1995 elections, CCM won a majority of the votes in Unguja, due to sustained support for the party in the ‘Hadimu fringe’ and among immigrants, while CUF won the majority of votes in Pemba (83%), as well as in two constituencies in Stone Town and another one in Bumbwini in north-western Unguja. In absolute numbers, CCM won a small (official) margin of 1,565 votes (out of a total of 328,977 votes) in the presidential elections (Nisula 1999: 28; see the results of the 1995 and 2000 elections in the appendix III c and d). As the 1995 elections had only brought a narrow victory for CCM, expectations were high that CUF would win the 2000 elections. However, CCM hardliners disrupted the electoral process and declared Amani Abeid Karume, a son of Abeid Amani Karume, win- ner of the presidential elections in late 2000. This decision, as well as the official results of the elections, was immediately challenged by both CUF and international observers. The political crisis that resulted from the elections in 2000 has continued to destabilize Zanzibar ever since. On 27 and 29 January 2001, the police clamped down on demonstrations in Unguja and Pemba. In the ensuing riots, 23 people were killed in Unguja as well as about 300 in Pemba, and 2,000 people fled from Pemba by dhow to Kenya (Hirschler 2001: 333). Only in October 2001 did the situation start to calm down, when both CCM and CUF concluded a ‘muafaka’ (agreement) to come to terms with each other peacefully. Radical fractions within both CCM and CUF opposed such an agreement, and have succeeded to this day in preventing a compromise solution. Despite signs of appeasement, the 2005 elections were again rigged. In February 2005, the Zanzibar Electoral Commission (ZEC) announced that Pemba would lose three constituencies, while Unguja would gain these constituencies, and on 15 April 2005 a ZEC officer announced that Seif Sharif Hamad could not be presidential candidate as he had not been resident in his constituency for three consecutive years and had thus not been registered in the electoral register (Africa Confidential, 46, 10, 2005).18 to the annual ajj, when Zanzibar sends her own delegation of pilgrims to Mecca (about 1,000 annually, IC80, 20.4.2004). 18 The 2005 elections were monitored among others by a Muslim observer mission from the Uamsho group (see chapter 3). The Uamsho report mentioned that more than 2,000 people had registered more than once and that hooligan groups known as ‘Janjaweed’ had disturbed both the registration process and CUF rallies. In the process of the elections as such, many people were not allowed to vote and were turned away from the 994 voting stations. Vehicles were spotted that transported 58 chapter two

In the context of these developments, the idea of a ‘third force’ that would eventually overcome Zanzibar’s political dichotomies has resurfaced. In 1963, the Umma party had been such a ‘third force’, and in 2003, a political group called Safina (ship, ark), established by a brother of President Salmin Amour, Abu Amour (Tanzanian Affairs, No. 77, 2004) claimed to be such a force. In early 2005, Safina was renamed Jahazi Asili (the ‘original boat’), since Safina had allegedly been infiltrated by ‘unwelcome elements’ (IC67, 2.4.2005; for the idea of a ‘third force’ see ‘Babu’ 1996). The idea of a third force was also taken up in an article in an-Nuur of 6-12 August 2004, titled Mandela kuiokoa Zanzibar (‘Mandela shall redeem Zanzibar’), in which Nelson Mandela was invited to come to Zanzibar to mediate in the CCM-CUF conflict ‘as the Prophet had done in Medina’, while CUF and CCM were compared with the quarreling Aws and Khazraj tribes of Medina. CCM groups have meanwhile developed a new strategy to discredit the CUF by creating a link between the CUF and Muslim opposition groups, especially the Anār al-Sunna and Uamsho. The Islamic opposition was in fact accused of being responsible for a number of ‘incidents’ in March 2004 that were presented as ‘Islamist terrorist’ attacks by the CCM government, a sign that the CCM was trying to instrumentalize the US-financed ‘war on terror’ for its own political agenda (see chapter 3). The results of the 1995 elections, as well as those of 2000 and 2005, again reflect a considerable change in Zanzibar’s population structure. As a result of post-independence migration from Pemba to Unguja, the original basis of support for the ASP/CCM block in Unguja has become significantly smaller, while Pemba has become a CUF stronghold. In order to make up for the increasing support for CUF in Pemba and even parts of Unguja, the CCM government started to encourage immigration from the mainland. These immigrants viewed CUF as an anti-immigration island party and they have consequently supported CCM. Immigration from the mainland has consequently become a major topic of public discourses in Zanzibar and in 2003 led to a number of CUV protest rallies where Seif Sharif Hamad attacked CCM immigration policies. In order to counterbalance

‘voters’, often soldiers, to other voting places for repeated voting (see AllAfrica Glo- bal media, report 11.11.2005). Election results showed that 509,000 votes were cast, while only 450,000 voters were registered (IC82, 8.11.2006). Zanzibar: the historical setting 59

CUF and Muslim opposition discourses,19 the police have carried out a number of highly visible and publicized raids against immigrants (IC52, 17.3.2003). As a result of the conflict between the CCM and the CUF, the population of Zanzibar remains torn into two fractions.

19 At the same time, critical papers such as Maarifa and Dira were stopped by the Supreme Court, Maarifa in 2002, Dira on 28 November 2003, in connection with an article in Dira (5) of 17 January 2003 titled Abeid Karume auziwa kwa siri jumba la ZSTC (‘Abeid Karume secretly bought the building of the ZSTC’) on the dubious economic activities of the Karume family, and the President in particular. Dira’s managing editor, Ali Mohammed Nabwa, a Comorian, was declared a ‘non-citizen’ (an-Nuur, 3-9 September 2004; see also Hirschler/Hofmeier 2004). 60 chapter two Traditions of reform, reforms of tradition 61

CHAPTER THREE

TRADITIONS OF REFORM, REFORMS OF TRADITION

3.1. The Negotiation of Islamic Reform in East Africa

Both the history of Zanzibar’s religious scholars and religious movements, and the history of Islamic education in Zanzibar can be visualized as a history of several traditions of reform as shaped by generations of reformers. In my analysis of these generations of reformers, I follow Karl Mannheim who has described a generation as a group of people living at a certain time and sharing particular experiences (Mannheim 1984: 509ff.). Consequently, a generation may extend over a few formative years only in the life experiences of a society, or it may extend over several decades if a society experiences no major historical breaks (see Freitag 2003: 470). For my efforts to establish a generational structure in the development of traditions of reform in Zanzibar, the files in the ZNA have been extremely valuable for the period up to 1964, as I could collect numerous biographies of individual scholars, teachers and colonial administrators (see biographical dictionary). Due to the revolution, Zanzibar’s scholarly traditions have been disrupted, however, and the representation of history has become increasingly blurred by conflicting versions of the past, fading personal memories and the death of witnesses of pre-revolutionary times. While I can present the post-revolutionary history of Islamic education in Zanzibar with some degree of empathy, my account of its pre-revolutionary history is based to a large extent on ZNA files, as well as the material I was able to access in private archives, such as Mwalimu Idris’ collection. Still, I found numerous biographical details in the ZNA and could discuss these data with my local interlocutors. With the cooperation of my interlocutors, I was able to rethink Zanzibar’s intellectual history since the late 19th century to some extent, in particular regarding the roles and careers of Zanzibar’s pre-revolutionary scholars. In this chapter, I will focus on the ‘actors’1 in Zanzibar’s intellectual and

1 Although I agree that agency is important to explain processes of change, agency is not ‘almighty’: It is informed and at times limited, by prevailing social, 62 chapter three religious history and set the framework for the chapters to come, in which I will present the development of Islamic education in Zanzibar from pre-colonial to colonial and post-colonial times in more institutional terms (chapters 4-9). In the following paragraphs, the major features of ‘Islamic reform’ in East Africa will be outlined shortly, before each tradition of reform is presented individually, first the Qādiriyya, then Alawī scholarly networks, then the emergence of a Salafīyya-oriented tradition of reform, and finally Zanzibar’s contemporary reformers and Muslim activists. When considering the material presented here and in the chapters to come, it is tempting to focus attention on specific scholars and/or teachers or on a specific tradition of reform that seems to dominate policies of education and discourses on education in a specific period of time. The life and legacy of Abdallāh āli al-Farsy (see chapter 7) would be such a case when looking at the development of Islamic reform and Islamic education in the 1940s and 1950s, and Amad b. Sumay could form a similar focus for the 1900s to the 1920s (see Bang 2003). Taking a closer look at their respective times, however, it is clear that neither al-Farsy nor Amad b. Sumay were dominating the course of Islamic education in their times in hegemonic terms. Rather, Islamic education, traditions of reform and the development of scholarly discourses have to be seen as a spectrum of multiple and often conflicting voices. Seen as a whole, traditions of reform, in East Africa as well as in other parts of the Islamic world, indeed display a staggering diversity and betray numerous fluctuations over time and space. This poses difficulties for an analytical study of the various phenomena that can be placed under the rubric of reform (see Loimeier 2003b and 2005a). In order to overcome these problems of conceptualization and analysis of reform, I propose to define reform here not as ‘programmes’ of reform but as change with a (particular) programme, implying both a distinct discourse (ideology) on issues of reform as well as agency directed towards the implementation of a specific programme of reform. Such an inclusive definition of reform has four main advantages. Firstly, it takes into consideration the internal dialectic character that reform programmes display over time. That is, in the religious, political and/or economic structures (contexts) and the dynamics of, for instance, economic change. Agency may have options but options are defined by the historical frame conditions in which agency is situated. Traditions of reform, reforms of tradition 63 name or guise of ‘modernization’, a particular reform programme may seek to modify, completely change or eradicate established social, religious or political traditions, rituals, reforms introduced in the past, or the manner or form by which Muslim scholastic teachings are interpreted or taught. In a subsequent twist, the same reform programme, even if viewed as having a modernizing orientation, as expressed, for instance, in specific forms of organization, may come to be regarded as an established ‘tradition’ (see Voll 2005 and Zaman 2002). Secondly, the examination of reform through ‘processes of change with a particular programme’ allows for the study of modern reform movements that do not have a distinctive modernizing mission, such as movements of reform which claim to reinvigorate the faith as, for instance, the ‘Wahhābiyya’, which could be defined as representing a ‘scripturalist’ or better, ‘literalist’ episteme. The term ‘episteme’ is not understood here in its literal sense as ‘knowledge’ (Wissen, Erkenntnis, in contrast to a ‘doxa’, an opinion, a dogma), but is viewed in a wider sense to include those aspects of the ritual that are associated with an epistemic tradition, such as, in the case of the esoteric episteme, veneration of the Prophet, celebration of the birthday of the Prophet (mawlid al-nabī), faith in saints and their baraka and power to intercede, the allegoric/metaphoric interpretation of the Qur ān, and a multitude of Sufi rituals, in particular, the dhikr (see Brenner 2001: 17ff). By contrast, movements of reform committed to a literalist episteme often reject supererogatory prayers as well as the dhikr and the mawlid while stressing simultaneously the literal understanding of the Qur ān and advancing the reform of particular rituals, Islamic education or the manner in which Prophetic traditions are incorporated into traditions of learning. Thirdly, a broader definition of reform allows for the inclusion of a spectrum of Sufi-oriented traditions of reform which represent an ‘esoteric’ episteme. Sufi-oriented traditions of reform are also based on texts, and thus ‘scripturalist’, yet they reject the ‘literalist’ (‘wörtli- che’; āhirī, arfī) interpretation of these texts. Although Sufi-oriented movements of reform are the central focus of many studies, in the literature on Muslim societies they are often not viewed as a part of Islamic ‘reformist’ movements but as being opposed to ‘reformist Islam’. It is important here to differentiate between the underlying religious and/or ideological message of a movement of reform, the rootedness of such a message in an esoteric, literalist or rationalistic 64 chapter three episteme, and the social, political or economic orientation of such a movement of reform and its impact, which may be modernizing, traditionalist or conservative. Thus, a movement of reform may be committed to an esoteric or a literalist episteme, while at the same time advocating programmes of social reform which support processes of modernization, even if such a movement claims to be opposing ‘modernity’ or at least a ‘Western’ definition of modernity. Fourthly, an inclusive definition of reform has the advantage of escaping politically biased perceptions of Muslim reform movements which tend to indiscriminately portray such reform movements as radical, activist, ‘fundamentalist’ and militantly ‘Islamist’ expressions of ‘political Islam’, while opposing them with allegedly quietist, peaceful and accommodating expressions of ‘Sufi Islam’. Such dichot- omist constructions reify both types of expression and sets one in opposition to the other. Ultimately, most external representations of reform movements in Muslim societies fail to account for the mul- tiplicity of expressions which cover the spectrum between ‘activist’ and ‘quietist’ poles, and fail to recognize the dynamic character of Muslim societies in which social actors actively position, negotiate and interpret ideas and materials from various places along the spectrum. It is also important, though, to recall that within Muslim societies, dichotomous representations of reform and reformers constitute important means of othering opponents in specific local contexts. These processes of othering are important in so far as they reflect emic perceptions of disputes. Dichotomous representations are rela- tional, however, and the result of negotiation processes in a specific local context. They are often made operational or articulated for specific purposes in a local context and consequently change ascription if the context changes. Hence, this chapter argues that while reform movements certainly need be understood in terms of their situatedness in a matrix of translocal networks and traditions of learning, it is even more important to acknowledge their situatedness in local contexts, where reformers attempt to translate their programme of reform into quotidian realities. The success or failure of particular reform movements is consequently defined by processes of negotiation in the local context and not so much by their degree of translocal entanglement. Only if a reform movement manages to ‘translate’ its programme into a multitude of local contexts and to properly address Traditions of reform, reforms of tradition 65 the needs, anxieties, frustrations and aspirations of many different local populations by offering viable solutions to the nagging and often banal problems of everyday life, will such a reform movement gain acceptance as well as relevance (Wirkmächtigkeit) in multiple local contexts and become a truly powerful translocal movement of reform. On the basis of these considerations, it can be suggested that Muslim reform movements are characterized by a large spectrum of expressions which attempt to translate specific interpretations of a ‘great(er) tradition’, such as the canon of Islam’s sacred and founda- tional texts, into multiple local contexts. These attempts at reform imply a constant process of negotiation, contestation and reinterpretation, a process which has been defined by Talal Asad as being ‘a constitutive part of any Islamic tradition’ (Asad 1986: 14-6). In the process of translation, negotiation and reinterpretation of specific interpretations of the canon into different geographic, social, political and religious contexts, reform movements develop distinctive positions in relation to these contexts, and in relation to other contemporary reform movements and/or historical traditions of reform. Each tradition of reform is thus marked by distinctive contexts, distinctive markers of reform and distinctive positions with respect to other traditions of reform: reform movements have synchronic and diachronic dimensions which require careful examination. When translating these conceptual considerations into East African historical contexts, ‘generational’ dynamics in the development of issues of reform and their situatedness in distinct historical contexts are particularly clear. Zanzibar’s history as well as the development of Islamic education in Zanzibar was characterized in the 19th century, as has been mentioned above (chapter 2), by the expansion of the political and economic influence of the Sultanate of Zanzibar. The processes of social and economic change in these times were marked by large-scale movements of migration from the East African interior to the coast, and the development of a plantation economy based on slave labour. In the context of these economic, political and social changes, Muslim scholars started to advocate reforms with regard to both religious ritual and Islamic education. These reform endeavours may be viewed as an expression of dissatisfaction with established social, religious and political structures as well as the dynamics of change during this period of time (Glassman 1995; Bang 2003). The rising 66 chapter three number of immigrants from Oman in the 19th century challenged the paramount role of established coastal families. Despite the economic boom on the coast during most of the 19th century, local ‘patrician’ (Glassman 1995: 138) families were increasingly marginalized in political and economic terms. In order to distinguish themselves from the powerful newcomers from Oman, established families came to stress their identity as Shirazi aristocrats, laying claim to an Islamic legacy that was perceived to be both older and more prestigious than Omani origins. The established families of the coastal settlements were, however, not the only ones to be excluded from politics and from the economic boom. The rapid growth in both size and number of clove and sugar cane plantations, and later palm plantations, stimulated considerable migration to the coast from the East African interior. The migrants from the hinterland were not only looking for work, but also sought personal freedom from ‘hinterland’ customs and obligations. But on the coast and on the islands, migrants from the interior, like the slaves on the plantations, were refused integration into Shirazi society, since local elites were hesitant to accept these Washenzi (barbarian) migrants as members of their communities. The migrants consequently started to create their own Swahili (coastal) Muslim associations, organizations, dancing clubs, mosques and unions. For the time being, Shirazi elites continued to control existing institutions such as mosques, Qur ānic schools, courts of law and religious foundations. Yet, in the second half of the 19th century, Shirazi elites experienced increasing pressure in these social and religious spheres as well when other migrants started to question their position in mosques, schools and courts. This time, the migrants came not from the African interior or Oman, but from Hadramaut and the Benadir coast. Migrants from Hadramaut were often connected with Alawī family networks and could claim sharīfian descent, while the migrants from Benadir coastal towns such as Brawa were often linked with the Qādiriyya (see below). The ‘new’ religious scholars from Hadramaut and the Benadir coast started to compete with local ‘patrician’ scholars for influence and social positions and cultivated support among other marginalized groups, in particular the migrants from the interior, since they suffered from similar strategies of exclusion (Glassman 1995: 138). Islam thus became a field where matters of inclusion and exclusion were negotiated. By converting to Islam, slaves were able to achieve a certain degree of emancipation, even when their masters did not Traditions of reform, reforms of tradition 67 consent. As slaves and migrants incorporated local Islamic traditions into their own rituals, established religious practices were corre- spondingly transformed, a phenomenon expressed in different forms of the mawlid al-nabī (the celebration of the Prophet’s birthday), such as the mawlid Barzanji and the mawlid ya Kiswahili, or different forms of the dhikr (Glassman 1995: 81-84, 92; and below). With respect to mawlid celebrations, Shirazi elites cultivated the ‘sober’ mawlid Barzanji as recited in Arabic, whereas the newly converted followed the mawlid ya Kiswahili as characterized by use of the Kiswahili language and ‘ecstatic’ ritual. The massive growth of the Sufi brotherhoods on the East African Coast in the 19th century can indeed be explained to some extent by the fact that the marginalized populations saw membership in a Sufi brotherhood, in particular, the Qādiriyya, as a way of becoming ‘good Muslims’. And although the inclusive rituals of the Sufi brotherhoods, in particular thedhikr and the mawlid, were often linked with the activities of local dance (ngoma) societies, they were still accepted by the new scholars (Glassman 1995: 139), while established Shirazi scholars tended to condemn the ‘egalitarianism’ of the new rituals. Their critique was specifically directed at the dhikr ceremonies, as female spirit possession cults had affinities to the dhikr and women often developed dhikr groups of their own. To Muslims with little formal learning, the dhikr seemed to offer a venue for spiritual fulfilment that did not depend on literary accomplishment. Sufi ritual thus had an inherently egalitarian appeal for newcomers to Islam and for town people who had been relegated to the margins of established religious institutions (Glassman 1995: 140). By the mid-1880s, some Qādirī versions of the dhikr such as the zikri ya dufu and the zikri ya kukohoa had become a popular form of worship on the coast, especially among slaves. The adoption of these rituals by converts acquired such momentum that even some of the new Qādirī scholars started to criticize them: they were not willing to accept all forms of ‘localization’ of Islamic rituals. In the second half of the 19th century, Sufi-oriented movements of reform, due to their inclusive character, thus acquired a much larger audience than, for instance Ibā ī initiatives of reform. Sufi scholars were indeed important agents of change in respect of the expansion of the horizon of the coastal societies and the development of new religious and cultural orientations, for they transgressed existing boundaries, social ascriptions, ethnic identities, regional affiliations and linguistic 68 chapter three frontiers (Bang 2003: 130). Sufis introduced rituals that had hitherto been unknown on the East African coast or that had been confined to exclusivist circles: the dhikr, the mawlid of the Prophet, the ziyāra to the tombs of the saints. On the basis of these rituals, new concepts of religion and community were propagated. These concepts of community were no longer characterized by exclusion, but by integration and communal ritual. Sufi scholars became focal points of social reorganization and challenged existing social and religious institutions that had been characterized by their exclusivity (Bang 2003: 131). In the 19th century, social and religious hierarchies on the East African coast were thus initially dominated by shurafā and Waungwana, the noble and the free, while Wageni and Watumwa, strangers and slaves, formed the lower strata of society. Equally, knowledge was stratified socially until the late 19th century and knowledge was handed down within families from generation to generation. As knowledge and access to knowledge contributed to social status and even defined social status, knowledge was treated as an exclusive resource (Pouwels 1987: 86). Sufi-oriented movements of reform, however, also started to challenge established religious traditions and concepts of education on the East African coast. In Zanzibar, the development of these traditions of Islamic reform was even more accentuated as Zanzibar was a comparatively new centre of Islamic learning that emerged from the 1860s only, due to the influx of scholars from Hadramaut, Brawa and the Comoros. Mombasa or Lamu, by contrast, could point to centuries of Islamic scholarship. Reform-oriented scholars, linked with both the Alawiyya and the Qādiriyya thus had less difficulty in settling down in Zanzibar since the mid-19th century, as no scholarly establishment blocked their activities (see Freitag 1999a: 178; Pouwels 1987: 76; Bang 2003: 93). Nevertheless, especially in Sultan Barghash’s times, Zanzibar became a centre of disputes within Ibā ism that were linked to the movement of Imām Azzān b. Qays (1868-1871) in Oman. This movement aspired to the reunification of Muscat and Zanzibar (al- Mahrouqi 2001: 89ff). Imām Azzān b. Qays’ mission was supported to some extent by Sultan Barghash and while Sultan Barghash advocated economic and political reforms, he also tried to strengthen his religious position by punishing religious scholars, in particular those among the Ibā ī elite who dared to oppose him, such as Alī b. Traditions of reform, reforms of tradition 69

Abdallāh b. Nafi al-Mazrū ī (B118; 1825-1994) or Alī b. Khamīs b. Sālim al-Barwānī (B26; 1852-1885), a young poet and scholar, who, under orders from the Sultan, wrote poems for the books edited by the Sultan of Zanzibar. In 1870, he changed his religious affiliation and became a member of the Qādiriyya. As a consequence, al-Barwānī lost the support of the court, was imprisoned and deported to Oman where he returned at least formally to the tenets of the Ibā iyya (Pouwels 1987: 119). Many Ibā īs in East Africa, removed from the scholarly centres of Oman, had in fact started to switch to the Shāfi ī madhhab in the late 19th century, which was both the predominant madhhab on the coast and rather close in many respects to Ibā ī traditions of learning. Mutualities in mosque attendance, learning, studying and intermarriage added to this movement of conversion and can be seen as a form of integration of Omani immigrants into local contexts (Pouwels 1987: 116). In order to fight this movement of conversion, Sultan Barghash introduced a printing press and com- missioned the printing of Ibā ī compendia imported from Ibā ī centres of learning as far away as the Algerian Mzab, but also perse- cuted ‘converts’, in particular, among rival families such as the Barwānīs. He was therefore described by Abdallāh āli al-Farsy as ‘the Hārūn al-Rashīd and the al-Ma mūn’ of Zanzibar in one person (al-Farsy 1972: 7). Still, major representatives of the Barwānī family became Shāfi ī in the 19th century, among them Musin b. Alī al-Barwānī (B27), the head of the Barwānī family in Zanzibar who became a student of Abdallāh Bā Kathīr (see below) and one of the most respected scholars in Zanzibar in the early 20th century (Pouwels 1987: 119). The fact that a significant number of ‘conversions’ from Ibā ism to the Shāfi ī school of law took place in the late 19th century was probably also linked to the fact that in a period of time marked by processes of transformation and ‘expansion of scale’, Ibā īs represented an exclusive religious ‘programme’ and Sunnis an inclusive one, and that ‘converts’ to Sunnī Islam had the chance to rise in society, especially if they were respected scholars (IC73, 5.9.2002). Sultan Barghash’s efforts to support the Ibā ī movement of reform and to punish ‘conversion’ to the Shāfi ī school of law could equally have been connected with Barghash’s personal biography: after coming to power in 1870, he tried to reassert Zanzibar’s independence from British influence by shifting to an anti-British position as 70 chapter three expressed by the Omani reformers (IC82, 26.2.2001), although he soon cultivated more moderate positions: in the aftermath of the 1872 hurricane which destroyed Zanzibar’s navy, and an Egyptian naval expedition to the East African Coast in 1875/1876 which had to turn back only due to British pressure, he came to realize that his position of power was effectively granted by the British under the condition that the Sultan supported British policies in East Africa. Ibā ī reform endeavours remained largely confined to the Omani aristocracy and scholarly elite, and did not have significant repercussions on the Sunni-Shāfi ī majority of Muslims in Zanzibar. The first two generations of Muslim reformers, which had an impact as movements of reform in Zanzibar in the late 19th and early 20th centuries, may thus be located firmly within the Sufi episteme as represented by scholars of the Qādiriyya, such as Muyī al-Dīn al-Qaānī (B144; d. 1869), Abd al- Azīz b. Abd al-Ghanī al-Amawī (al-Umawī; d. 1896) and Uways b. Muammad al-Barawī (d. 1909) (see below, 3.2.), or the Alawiyya such as Alī b. Abdallāh b. asan Jamal al-Layl (B78; d. 1915), Amad b. Sumay (d. 1925) and Abdallāh Bā Kathīr al-Kindī (d. 1925) (see below, 3.3.). These reformers introduced not only new ritual features such as the dhikr and the celebration of the mawlid al-nabī, but also advocated reforms in Islamic education. In particular, they expanded the disciplines of learning and fought against elitist conceptions of ritual and madrasa education which had been predominant on the East African coast. In later years, Sufi- oriented reformers tried to find paths of accommodation with colonial rule. Indeed, many scholars worked for the colonial administration as qā īs, teachers and clerks. At the same time, scholars such as Amad b. Alī ‘Manab’ (d. 1927) or Burhan Mkelle (B124; d. 1949) became increasingly aware of reformist discourses in Egypt, even if they did not subscribe to Salafī programmes of reform. As a group, these Sufi-oriented reformers influenced debates in East Africa for a period of about sixty years, from the 1860s to the mid-1920s. In the 1930s, 1940s and 1950s, a new generation of Sufi-oriented reformers, such as Umar b. Sumay (d. 1976), Sayyid Umar Abdallāh (d. 1988) or asan b. Amīr (Ameir, d. 1979; see below, 3.2.) came to modify the now established modes of reform. Some of these scholars contributed to the struggle for independence of their respective countries. Like their predecessors, they stressed the importance of Islamic education and directed modern Islamic schools such as the Muslim Academy in Zanzibar. The establishment of the Muslim Traditions of reform, reforms of tradition 71

Academy in Zanzibar in 1952 and its subsequent administration by Sayyid Umar Abdallāh, a well known religious scholar affiliated with the Alawiyya, Qādiriyya and Shādhiliyya (see chapters 7.4. and 8), could indeed be seen as a new stage in the development of Sufi- oriented reform, as the Muslim Academy represented a different approach to Islamic education that was no longer marked by teacher- master oriented forms of learning as in the Qur ānic schools, but by institution-oriented forms of learning in a new type of school, the mahad (institute). These new forms of learning implied acceptance of Western concepts of education, even if combined with Islamic disciplines. It is important to note here, however, that the establishment of a new type of Islamic school, such as the Muslim Academy in Zanzibar was still linked with religious scholars who identified with the teaching traditions of the Alawiyya and the ‘esoteric episteme’ (IC28, 10.9.2008).2 Sufi-oriented movements of reform thus continued to prosper well into colonial times. Yet colonial times also brought new challenges for the Muslims of the East African coast. In the course of their integration into the new political structures of Tanganyika and Kenya, the Muslim populations of the coastal areas became minorities in countries dominated by Christian elites. The interference of the colonial administration in Muslim affairs, for instance with respect to the bureaucratization of Islamic jurisdiction and the administration of the awqāf, disrupted coastal society (see Oberauer 2008), and in fact set the framework for the emergence of a different group of Muslim reformers who were no longer associated with the esoteric episteme. From the 1930s, the East African coast thus saw the emergence of a second chain of reformers who tried to translate multiple modernities, including non-Muslim modernities, into (local) Muslim contexts, while adopting associationist modes of organization and expression and fighting against the ‘esoteric episteme’. Reformers such as al-Amīn b. Alī al-Mazrū ī (d. 1947) and, later, āmid b. Amad Manab (d. 1965) or Abdallāh āli al-Farsy (al-Fārisī,

2 Similar ‘institutes’ were the Ghazzali Muslim School in Mombasa (established in 1932 by Muammad al-Ghazzālī), the Mombasa Institute of Muslim Education (MIOME), the Muslim Secondary Technical School Shaykh Khalifa bin Zayyed al- Nahyan in Mombasa (founded in the 1980s), and the Nairobi Islamic Institute (established in 1989; Bakari 1989: 17). These ‘institutes’ were characterized by the fact that they were largely informed by the educational model of the (colonial) government schools. 72 chapter three

d. 1982) cultivated new external sources of orientation and ,ﺍﻟﻔﺎﺭﺳﻰ rejected some features of established Sufi-inspired traditions of religious practice, particularly the dhikr or specific forms of the mawlid. Reformist scholars such as al-Amīn b. Alī al-Mazrū ī also advocated new and modern approaches to Islamic education and established first reformist newspapers such as al-Ilā . Despite a rather general critique of the colonial situation, they were prepared to work for the colonial (and post-colonial) administration, especially when they saw opportunities for defining particular development projects within the framework of the colonial system (see below, 3.4.). In the 1960s, however, the frame conditions changed again in both Zanzibar and Tanganyika, which formed the Union of Tanzania in 1964. In the context of Tanzanian ujamaa (community) policies, a group of Muslim bureaucrats emerged, often linked with the Qādiriyya, who supported state informed policies of reform and tried to translate state-informed programmes of modernization into an ‘Islamic code’. In the 1970s, scholars such as Abdallah Chaurembo or Adam Nasibu came to form a group of Tanzanian ‘Muslim functionaries’, as organized in a party-linked association, BAKWATA (Supreme Council for Tanzanian Muslims; see Said 1998). At the same time, these ‘BAKWATA shaykhs’ managed to marginalize the most outspoken representatives of earlier traditions of reform. In particular, a younger generation of Qādirī shaykhs, often from Bagamoyo, representing the ‘school’ of Shaykh Ramiya (see Nimtz 1980), or from Dar es Salaam, were prepared at this time to turn against established authorities such as asan b. Amīr, a respected leader of the Qādiriyya and Muftī of Tanzania until 1968, who had started to oppose Julius Nyerere in the mid-1960s (see Loimeier 2007b: 137ff). Considering these dynamics of generational change and competition both within and between Sufi brotherhoods, it would be wrong to assume that Sufi brotherhoods formed homogeneous religious blocks. The disputes between shaykhs of both the Qādiriyya and the Shādhiliyya in the late 1960s and 1970s, which led to the foundation of BAKWATA and a third generation of increasingly ‘associationist’ orientations within Sufi brotherhoods, rather show that the Sufi brotherhoods were split into a number of competing networks. Yet, even if the Tanzanian ‘Muslim functionaries’ came to dominate state- linked Islamic institutions, they largely failed to influence the public Traditions of reform, reforms of tradition 73 discourse. In the context of policies of political and economic liberalization since the mid-1980s, however, Sufi-oriented reformers have adopted associationist modes of organization. Among these associations are the Baraza Kuu (Great Council) led by Nūr al-Dīn usayn, a leader of the Shādhiliyya, or the Katiba ya jumuiya zawiyatul Qadiriyya Tanzania (Constitution of Qādirī Associations of Tanza- nia), a Qādirī NGO, established in 1990 in Arusha by Muam mad Naor (B141) and Muammad Abd al-Ramān Dedes (B43; see Loimeier 2007a). At the same time, in the post-independence period and in the context of Nyerere’s ujamaa policies, disciples and students of al-Amīn b. Alī al-Mazrū ī and Abdallāh āli al-Farsy started to develop more radical and activist positions with respect to Sufi brotherhoods and the post-colonial state and came to form a second generation of Salafī-oriented reformers who could be defined by their staunch, albeit individualistic and unorganized opposition to the neo-colonial state. Scholars and intellectuals such as Saidi Musa (B138), Amad b. āmid Manab, Rashīd b. āmid al-a rāmī (B54) or Muammad Manab also cultivated new regional orientations towards Sudan, Saudi-Arabia and Iran, yet failed to gain significant support for their concepts of reform in the 1970s. Since the 1980s, a younger generation of activist Muslims has been able to gain larger audiences. These Muslim activists as represented, for instance, by Nassor Bachu (see below) in Zanzibar, or Ally Bassaleh, the imām of the Qiblatayn-mosque in Dar es Salaam, have started to fight openly against state-paid Muslim functionaries and have come to influence the Islamic public sphere in East Africa in much more spectacular ways than earlier generations of reformers, for instance by intensifying the critique of the post-colonial state and by adopting increasingly militant forms of action which include new modes of public preaching (mihadhara), often inspired by Pentecostal churches. An important feature of this new generation of Muslim reformers was that they established activist organizations, such as Uamsho (see below), which were both independent and critical of BAKWATA. Also, they redirected their attention, though not totally, from attacks against Sufi scholars to polemics against the state and the churches. Muslim movements of reform have thus triggered dynamics of dispute that have been important for Tanzania’s social and political development. Since leading representatives of recent activist Islamic reform movements have not acquired qualifications as religious 74 chapter three scholars (ulamā ), but are doctors, teachers, engineers or computer experts, and regard themselves not as ulamā but as Muslim thinkers (mufakkirūn muslimūn) or ‘professors’ (asātidha), the argumentation of these reformers has acquired a rather political and ideological character that has been criticized by their opponents among the Sufi brotherhoods as a distortion of the ‘true’ religious and spiritual message of Islam. The 20th century was thus characterized by further extension of the translocal contacts that connected the East African coast not only with the Hadramaut, the Hijaz and Egypt, but also with India, later Pakistan, Saudi Arabia, and, more recently, Iran. Change in the 20th century has also brought about broader access to knowledge and new channels of information by way of TV, cassettes, radio and the Internet. In addition, many translations of Arabic texts into English and Kiswahili have been published, making education more accessible to a majority of Muslims (IC72, 4.3.2001). The development of Islamic education on the East African coast in the 20th century may thus be seen as a process of change, comparable to that in the late 19th century, in which local concepts of education, community, religion and politics were challenged by new concepts of sociality as introduced by Islamic reform movements, inspired in turn by external systems of reference, both Muslim and non-Muslim. As far as questions of education are concerned, the disputes resulting from these processes of transformation and reform were characterized by the question as to which specific tradition of learning and education could claim to speak for all Muslims and to acquire acceptance as a major source of social, political and religious guidance (irshād). In the following sections of this chapter, the different traditions of reform in Zanzibar will be presented and discussed in greater detail.

3.2. The Qādiriyya With regard to the analysis of Sufi-oriented movements of reform in East Africa, the major focus of interest to date has been on the scholars of the Alawiyya (see below, as well as the work of Anne Bang 2003 and Randall Pouwels 1987). This is possibly due to the fact that the texts of Alawī scholars have been more accessible, but also to the fact that the scholars of the Alawiyya, despite being a small intellectual elite, have been important for the development of reforms in Traditions of reform, reforms of tradition 75 the sphere of Islamic education. By contrast, the scholars of both the Shādhiliyya and the Qādiriyya have so far attracted little attention, possibly due to the fact that scholars of the Qādiriyya have been more active in the sphere of ritual than in education. As the scholars of the Qādiriyya have been able to attract a mass following in Zanzibar, the development of the Qādiriyya will be treated more prominently here. The Shādhiliyya by contrast, seems to have gained a considerable number of followers in the Comoros and on the mainland, especially in the regions of Lindi and Dar es Salaam, but not so much in Zanzibar, and will not be discussed here (for the development of the Shādhiliyya in East Africa see Ahmed 2006 and Bang 2003: 53ff). With regard to the development of the Qādiriyya in 20th century Zanzibar, it is possible to identify three major branches3 as led and established by a number of leading scholars: a. usayn b. Abdallāh al-Mūīnī (Mwinyi) from Brawa, who came to Zanzibar in about 1875. In Brawa, he had been a student of Abd al-Ramān al-Zayla ī (d. 1882; see below), whose tomb in Qulunqul was to become a centre of local pilgrimages (ziyārāt). In Zanzibar, Shaykh al-Mū īnī had a number of students in Tumbatu-Jongowe and Donge, later Zanzibar-Mlandege, name ly: 1. Alī b. Umar al-Shirāzī (b. early 1860s, d. 1925/6), in Jongowe/ Tumbatu, studied under Muyī al-Dīn al-Qaānī. Alī b. Umar established a zāwiya in Zanzibar-Mlandege and taught I. his son, Umar b. Alī, who continued to direct the zāwiya in Mlandege after the death of his father. In 2004, the house of Alī b. Umar al-Shirāzī in Zanzibar-Mlandege was in fact one of the major centres of the Qādiriyya in Zanzibar. Umar b. Alī’s son, Muyī al-Dīn b. Umar b. Alī, established another branch of the Qādiriyya in Zanzibar in the 1950s, namely the usayniyya, and was still the khalīfa of this branch of the family in 2002. The usayniyya became successful in Zanzibar from the 1950s onward, as it incorporated in its dhikr the recitation of one of the Alawī litanies, the rātib al-Aās, and thus created a link with the Alawiyya (Ameir 2006: 348ff; 360). At the same time, Muyī

3 The first prominent scholar of the Qādiriyya in Zanzibar, Muyī al-Dīn al-Qaānī (c. 1790-1869) from Brawa is not discussed here, as he did not establish a network of students or disciples of his own, although he was a teacher of some prominent later Qādirī scholars such as Sha ūrī b. al-ājj Mshirazi, Abd al- Azīz b. Abd al-Ghanī al-Amawī and Alī b. Umar al-Shirāzī (see below). 76 chapter three

al-Dīn was active in politics in the zama za siasa of the 1950s and joined the ASP (Ameir 2006: 360). His role in ASP politics after 1957 and the fact that many scholars of the Qādiriyya, like himself or asan b. Amīr (see below), represented a shamba orientation in Zanzibari society and politics, may explain the fact that the activities of the Qādiriyya did not suffer as much persecution in the aftermath of the revolution of 1964 as did the scholars and activities of the Alawiyya that were clearly seen as being linked with the ‘Arab’ elite and a threat to Karume’s claim to hegemonic power. Another important student of Alī b. Umar was II. Makame Vuai (fl. c. 1940s), who in turn taught Kisutu b. Kombo and Mwalimu Madaha. Makame Vuai also taught Umar b. Alī, the son of Alī b. Umar, who taught Muammad b. Umar Qullatayn. A third major student of Alī b. Umar (as well as of Sha ūrī b. al-ājj) was III. Abdallāh Mjanakheri Abd al-Khayr (b. c. 1870 in Mkokotoni, Northern Unguja; see also below) who established the Qādiriyya among plantation slaves in Zanzibar. Shaykh Mjanakheri moved to Ng’ambo around 1900 and seems to have been influential in establishing the Qādiriyya in this part of Zanzibar town. He also seems to have become part of the network of Shaykh Uways and established a zāwiya in Ng’ambo-Michenzani. His major student was Burhan Iddi (B73, b. 1938) who opened his own darsa in Raha Leo, the Madrasat Hidāyat al-Islāmiyya, which accepted, in the zama za siasa, many students of ASP-orientation who were not accepted as students by scholars affiliated to the ZNP or ZPPP. Burhān Iddi was still active in 2002 (Ameir 2006: 351; 355). In the 1940s, Shaykh Mjanakheri’s wife, Bi Amīna Mjana- kheri, opened one of the first Qur ānic schools of the Qādiriyya for boys and girls, and also established a darsa for women. Other students of Shaykh Mjanakheri were usayn b. Rama ān (b. 1880 of Zigua parents from the mainland, d. 1978), who opened a zāwiya in Ng’ambo-Zawiyani, and āfi' b. Amīr (1869-1964; see below). Other disciples of usayn b. Abdallāh al-Mū īnī were: 2. asan Mekenga, who spread the Qādiriyya in the Songea area; 3. Alī Msema Kweli from Kilwa, who established the Qādiriyya in Kilwa and Lindi. He was also active in northern Mozambique and Malawi. b. Abd al-Azīz b. Abd al-Ghanī al-Amawī (d. 1896, see below), who established the ‘Nūraniyya’ tradition. After his death and Traditions of reform, reforms of tradition 77

burial in Zanzibar (Malindi), Abd al- Azīz b. Abd al-Ghanī al-Amawī was followed by his son, Burhān b. Abd al- Azīz al-Amawī (1861-1935, B9), who acted as Chief Qā ī of Zanzibar from 1907-1931/32 (see his picture on p. 137). A nephew of Shaykh Abd al- Azīz, āhir b. Abī Bakr al-Amawī (1877-1938, B10) succeeded Burhān al-Amawī in 1931/32 in the office of Chief Qā ī until his own death in 1938 (see his picture on p. 136). In the 1990s, the Amawī branch had only a few adherents in Zanzibar (Grandin 1998: 331). c. Uways b. Mu ammad al-Barawī (d. 1909, see below), who established a major branch of the Qādiriyya during his stays in Zanzibar in 1884 and 1908/1909. Important disciples were: 1. Mu ammad al-Marūf b. Shaykh A mad; 2. Zahor b. Mu ammad; 3. Burhān b. Mu ammad Mkelle al-Qumrī; 4. Abdallāh Mjanakheri, as initiated during the second visit of Shaykh Uways in Zanzibar; 5. Abū l-asan Jamal al-Layl (1888-1959, see B79 extensively); 6. Shaūrī (Shauri) b. al-ājj Mshirazi (from Tumbatu, d. 1913; see also above), who established the Kirāma branch of the Qādiriyya that became famous for its specificdhikr with drums and ‘coughing’ techniques (zikri ya dufu na sauti) and spread widely, as ‘Kitangungwa’ or ‘Kijiti’ in Tumbatu, Nungwi and Donge-Panga- mauwa, south of Mkokotoni (Ameir 2006: 250). Shaykh Sha ūrī studied under Muyī al-Dīn al-Qaānī from 1867-69 and took lessons at Gofu mosque in Zanzibar. He taught I. Muammad b. Khalfān al-Filānī alias ‘Haji Suwedi’ (B50, from Tumbatu, d. 1942, not 1945 or 1948, as has been claimed by some authors such as Nimtz 1980: 48), as well as II. al-ājj Muammad Daud and (III) Makame Vuai (see above). Al-ājj Muammad Daud also studied under Sayyid Umar Qullatayn (see below) and established his branch in Tumbatu and Mkokotoni. He died in 1996. Contemporary Tumbatu scholars of the Qādiriyya were Kisutu b. Kombo and Mwalimu Madaha (see Ameir 2006: 348ff); 7. Umar Qullatayn, of Zanzibar/Mkunazini (Hamamni) was born in the 1850s and died in the early 1920s (IC26, 25.5.2004; Aley 1994; see his picture on p. 137). He taught Bint Said, Bi Dodo and Bi Rehema (B155; see Ameir 2006: 251). His branch seems to have had followers mostly among Indians, Comorians, Hadramis and Somalis. Umar Qullatayn had three sons, 78 chapter three

I. Muammad, who established his own branch and, due to a family dispute, was not buried in the family grave in Welezo, but in the Raha Leo cemetery in Ng’ambo (IC26, 25.5.2004). According to Grandin (1998: 321ff), Muammad b. Umar Qullatayn was one of the leading scholars of the Qādiriyya in Zanzibar, although local sources claim that his father was the only major scholar in the family (IC26, 25.5.2004). More influential was a second son, II. Abū Bakr ‘Shibli’ Qullatayn, who became head teacher of the Chwaka primary school and left Zanzibar for Kenya even before the revolution, and then moved to Somalia. He died in Saudi Arabia. His son, Amad b. Abī Bakr Qullatayn (alias ‘Amad Badawi’) was an active supporter of the revolution. A third son of Umar Qullatayn, III. Alī b. Umar Qullatayn, followed Umar Qullatayn as leader of the family and was registered by the Waqf Commission as imām of Gofu mosque (IC26, 25.5.2004). The Qullatayn house in Hamamni was still home to a dhikr on Friday evenings, as well as mawlid on Thursdays in 2004, but collapsed in 2005. Apart from Umar Qullatayn, the Qullatayn family did not become a family of religious scholars. In 2003, the head of the family was: IV. Umar b. Alī b. Umar Qullatayn in Hamamni (IC26, 25.5.2004 and al-Falaq, 3.6.1939). Alī b. Umar Qullatayn taught Muammad Naor (d. 2003), who became a major leader of the Qādiriyya in mainland Tanzania. Muammad Naor again taught Abd al-Ramān Dedes, one of his major representatives on the mainland (IC26, 25.5.2004; see also Purpura 1997: 230; Grandin 1998: 337). In 2004, the centres of the Qullatayn family in Mkunazini-Hamamni as well as in Welezo were no longer active; only a mosque and some graves have remained. Most parts of the Qullatayn family have moved to the mainland, possibly due to their alleged implication in Karume’s assassination (IC14, 13.8.2004). Other students of Umar Qullatayn were V. Shaykh Uthmān, who taught Mamūd b. Kombo (Makunduchi, d. 1968), who again taught Yūsuf b. Sa īd b. Sulaymān, his successor in Makunduchi, then VI. al-ājj Muammad Daud (see above), and Traditions of reform, reforms of tradition 79

VIII. Abū l-asan Jamal al-Layl (B79), who seems to have inherited the Qullatayn tradition proper (Ameir 2006: 352). One of his students was al-ājj Muammad (Haji Muhammadi) (b. 1900 in Mkokotoni, d. 1996), who joined the ZNP in the zama za siasa, became ZNP candidate for Bumbwini in the 1963 elections, and started his own zāwiya in Mkokotoni (Ameir 2006: 360); an even more important student of Umar Qullatayn was IX. āfi' b. Amīr (Makunduchi-Mtegani, b. 1868, d. 1964), who established a specific tradition of the mawlid, namely the ‘mawlidi ya muini’ after usayn b. Abdallāh al-Mū īnī, and who in turn taught his younger brother asan b. Amīr (Makunduchi, 1880-1979, see below). asan b. Amīr had numerous disciples and followers.4

Networks of scholars I: interfaces and entanglements 1860s-1960s The ‘founding fathers’ of the Qādiriyya in Zanzibar: 1860s-1890s

1 Muyī al-Dīn 2 Abd al-Ra mān al-Zaylaī al-Qaānī (d. 1869) (d. 1882) 3 Abd al- Azīz b. 4 usayn b. Abdallāh 5 Uways b. Mu ammad Abd al-Ghanī al-Mū īnī, also a student al-Barawī (d. 1909) al-Amawī, d. 1896, a of (2) student of (1)

The first student generation: fl. 1890s-1920s

6 Burhān b. Abd 7 Alī b. Umar al-Shirāzī 10 Mu ammad al-Marūf al- Azīz al-Amawī (d. (d. 1925/1926), also a 11 Zahor b. Mu ammad 1931/1932). This student of (1, taught 13, 12 Burhān Mkelle (d. 1949) tradition has 17, 18) 13 Abdallāh Mjanakheri remained isolated 8 assan Mekenga 14 Shaūrī b. al-ājj (d. 1913, and weak within the 9 Alī Msema Kweli also a student of 1, taught 17, Qādiriyya, but was 19, 20) linked with the 15 Umar Qullatayn (d. early al-Farsy family by 1920s, taught 16, 20, 21, 22, marriage 23, 24, 25, 26) 16 Abū l-asan Jamal al-Layl (d. 1959)

4 The female scholars of the Qādiriyya in Zanzibar were all connected with the ritual tradition established by Shaykh Uways (Grandin 1998: 333). Female scholars of the Qādiriyya also became active in education, and often directed their husbands’ Qur ānic schools after their death (Ameir 2006: 353-6; Purpura 1997: 224-54). 80 chapter three

The second student generation: fl. 1920s-1960s

13 Abdallāh Mjanakheri ( 17 Makame Vuai (fl. 1940s) also a student of 7; taught 19 Mu ammad b. Khalfan Burhān Iddi) (d. 1942) 17 Makame Vuai (taught 20 Mu ammad Daud 21 and Umar b. Alī (d. 1996) al-Shirāzī; Kisutu b. 21 Mu ammad Qullatayn Kombo and Mwalimu 22 Abūbakar ‘Shibli’ Madaha) Qullatayn 18 Umar b. Alī al-Shirāzī 23 Alī b. Umar Qullatayn (taught Muyī al-Dīn b. 24 Umar b. Alī Qullatayn Umar b. Alī, who again 25 Shaykh Uthmān (taught taught usayn b. Ma mūd b. Kombo who d. in Rama ān, d. 1978, and 1968) āfi' b. Amīr, d. 1964) 26 āfi b. Amīr (taught asan b. Amīr, d. 1979)

As far as the initial spread of the Qādiriyya on the Benadir and Swahili coast was concerned, one scholar had particular importance, namely Shaykh Uways, a member of the sedentary Tunni clan in contemporary southern Somalia. Shaykh Uways (1847-1909) grew up in Brawa (for his biography, see Cassanelli 1973; Lewis 2001: 227ff; Martin 1976; Reese 1999 and 2008 and Samatar 1992). His father, al-ājj Muammad b. Bashīr, was a religious scholar. After having studied the Qur ān and tafsīr, he followed the advice of his teachers, Muammad Taynī al-Shāshī and Muammad Jenay al-Balūl, who also introduced him to some Sufi teachings, and went to Bagdad where he was initiated into the Qādiriyya by his teacher Muafā b. al-Sayyid Salmān al-Jīlānī. In 1873, he went on pilgrimage and after several more years of studies he returned in 1880 via the Hijaz, Yemen and the Benadir coastal towns, arriving in Brawa in 1883. During this journey, he visited the tomb of Abd al-Ramān b. Amad al-Zayla ī (Lewis 2001: 230; Reese 2008: 111-112), a Qādirī scholar and saint in Qulunqul in the Ogaden region, who had died in 1882. After his visit to the saint’s tomb, he claimed to have received a ‘symbolic’ ijāza of this highly venerated Sufi scholar (Samatar 1992: 52). Due to his great scholarship and his direct connections with the centre of the Qādiriyya in Bagdad, he claimed after his return home to be entitled to a leading role in the local scholarly establishment. This claim was rejected in Brawa (see Martin 1976: 161-2; Samatar 1992: 53), but found some support in Zanzibar and on the Mrima Traditions of reform, reforms of tradition 81 coast opposite Zanzibar. Between 1883 and 1900, he undertook numerous journeys, amongst others to Zanzibar, possibly following an invitation by Sultan Barghash. He entertained excellent relations with a number of Sultans of Zanzibar, in particular Barghash, Khalīfa b. Sa īd and amad b. Thwaynī. He also founded a new branch of the Qādiriyya in Zanzibar which subsequently expanded quickly in the coastal areas (Topan 1991: 51; for the Qādiriyya on the mainland see Nimtz 1980). From 1884, the time of his first visit to Zanzibar, his interpretation of the teachings of the Qādiriyya became very popular, especially among converts to Islam (al-Farsy 1972: 14). These teachings were connected with a number of distinctive religious practices, in particular the zikri ya kukohoa, a dhikr implying rhythmic inhaling and exhaling (anfās; lit. breath). This new form of the dhikr was soon attacked as a bida by other Qādirīs, in particular, Abd al- Azīz b. Abd al-Ghanī al-Amawī (see below). In addition, both Qādirī and non-Qādirī scholars of Eastern Africa attacked Shaykh Uways’ veneration as ā ib al-waqt, or ‘master of the time’, and as ‘supreme standard bearer of the army of the Qādiriyya’, honorific titles that announced his claim to religious superiority (see Martin 1976). Shaykh Uways wrote numerous poems, as well as polemic and apologetic texts in both Arabic and Somal in defence of his teachings (see Samatar 1992: 53; Martin 1976: 161; Reese 2008). Another Qādirī-tradition of teaching was represented by the Umawī (colloquially: Amawī) family, in particular Abd al- Azīz b. Abd al-Ghanī al-Amawī (1838-1896; see Hoffman 2006; Bang 2003: 94; see his picture on p. 136). According to Abdallāh āli al- Farsy, He was one of East Africa’s most expert religious scholars. The answers he gave to Bishop Tozer and Bishop Steere as well as to Padre Dale were not boasting…There was no other scholar in Unguja who could dispute so well with the padres than him...He did a lot to spread the dhikr. In fact, he was the one who really spread the Qādiriyya in East Africa. He also formed his own path, the Nūraniyya (Bingwa miongoni mwa mabingwa wa Mashariki ya Afrika…Jawabu zake alizokuwa aki- jibizana na Bishop Tozer na Biishop Steere na Padre Dale hazijulikani vile vile zilipo...Hapana mwanachuoni wa Kiunguja aliyekuwa akishin- dana sana na kujibizana na mapadre…Sana alikuwa akishughulikia habari ya Dhikri. Yeye ndiye aliyetilia nguvu Tarika ya Kadry katika hizi nchi za Mashariki ya Afrika, na vile vile alitunga Tarika yake mwe- nyewe pia ambayo aliita ‘Nuraniyya’; al-Farsy 1972: 14). 82 chapter three

Abd al- Azīz b. Abd al-Ghanī b. āhir b. Nūr al-Amawī was born in Brawa where his family occupied the position of khaīb and performed other services such as marriages. Even before he came to Zanzibar as a young man, Abd al- Azīz b. Abd al-Ghanī al-Amawī underwent extensive studies under, amongst others, Abū Bakr al-Mi ār, who was also the teacher of Abd al-Ramān b. Amad al-Zayla ī (see above). In addition, he studied under Alī b. Abd al-Ramān as well as one Amad al-Maghribī who also introduced him to Sufism (ALA IIIb, forthcoming: 15). In 1849, he left Brawa and settled in Mombasa, but in 1854, at the age of sixteen, he was appointed Qā ī of Kilwa by Sultan Sa īd b. Sulān. In 1860, he came to Zanzibar, where he studied under Muyī al-Dīn al-Qaānī (Bang 2003: 94). He served as Qā ī to Sultan Barghash and was followed in this position by his son Burhān b. Abd al-Ghanī al-Amawī, who acted as Qā ī in Zanzibar between 1891 and 1931/32 (see ALA IIIb, forthcoming; Bang 2003). Abd al- Azīz b. Abd al-Ghanī al-Amawī was active as a teacher at the Mnara mosque as well as at the Malindi Friday mosque. During Ramadan, he taught tafsīr in the Forodhani mosque (al-Farsy 1972: 14). In addition, he wrote a history of Zanzibar, as well as a number of treatises on adīth, taw īd, fiqh and medicine, as well as taawwuf (see al-Farsy 1972: 14). Together with his teacher Muyī al-Dīn al-Qaānī, who had come to Zanzibar in the 1830s, he published a treatise in defense of Sufism, in particular the use of musical instruments such as dufu drums in the dhikr (see ALA IIIb, forthcoming). As already mentioned in the quotation above, Abd al- Azīz b. Abd al-Ghanī al-Amawī established a new branch of the Qādiriyya, the Nūraniyya, in Zanzibar. His popularity, and in particular the popularity of the ritual practices of the Nūraniyya, that were later described as being of a ‘highly visible nature’ (Pouwels 1987: 196/7), seem to have been the reason for a dispute with Sultan Barghash as well as some scholars of the Alawiyya such as Amad b. Sumay (Pouwels 1987: 196/7). The assumption of a conflict with Sultan Barghash as based on a remark in Abdallāh āli al-Farsy’s work has been challenged though by Valerie Hoffman, who was able to reassess Abd al- Azīz b. Abd al-Ghanī al-Amawī’s role under Sultan Barghash on the basis of at least eleven texts written by Shaykh al-Amawī. These texts confirm that Shaykh al-Amawī supported the Sultan throughout his reign (Hoffman 2006: 253ff). The fact that Shaykh al-Amawī was jailed by the Sultan over an issue Traditions of reform, reforms of tradition 83 of authority should not be over-interpreted, thus, as he was quickly released (see Bang 2003: 94ff; Hoffman 2006: 253ff). Al-Farsy in fact mentioned this event only once in his characterization of Sultan Barghash as ‘the Harūn al-Rashīd of East Africa’ (al-Farsy 1972: 8). In his presentation of the life of Shaykh al-Amawī proper, he did not refer to this incident at all but rather stressed that Shaykh al-Amawī worked closely with a number of Sultans. He not only served as a Qā ī in Sultan Barghash’s times, but also was a close advisor of Sultan Bargash and even directed two naval expeditions for the Sultan on the Mrima coast (see Hoffman 2006: 253ff). Shaykh al-Amawī’s opposition to Shaykh Uways and the zikri ya kukohoa (see above) has to be seen equally in context. Although many local scholars in Zanzibar, in particular those linked with Alawī families, as well as some scholars of the Qādiriyya, criticized the new practices of the dhikr ya kukohoa as introduced by Shaykh Uways, others continued to support the new dhikr although the new dhikr practices had a markedly ecstatic character. Shaykh al-Amawī probably felt threatened in his own position as a paramount scholar of the Qādiriyya by the rapid spread of the new zikri movement as led by Shaykh Uways, his ‘Brawan foe’ (IC4, 21.2.2003). The growing strength of the Uways branch of the Qādiriyya which propagated the new dhikr was linked to a corresponding growth of Shaykh Uways’ influence at the court of the Sultans of Zanzibar, and Shaykh Uways was consequently able to eclipse, or at least balance, the influence of the Amawī branch of the Qādiriyya, which had previously been favoured by the Sultans (see Pouwels 1987: 143). In order to fight the growing influence of the Uways branch of the Qadiriyya, Shaykh al-Amawī turned against it and against the ‘new’ dhikr. Shaykh al-Amawī particularly criticized the rhythmic movement of bodies and ‘new’ techniques of breathing in this new form of the dhikr which he described as ‘coughing’. In a poem, Shaykh al-Amawī claimed that the zikri ya kukohoa resembled African dance and spirit possession cults such as Ngoma, Lelemama or Pepo, and he posed the question as to where this ‘worship of caughing’ had been invented (‘wapi ilikozuliwa ibada ya kukohowa’; see al-Farsy 1972: 14-5 for the whole poem). Shaykh al-Amawī was not against the dhikr as such, however, or the zikri ya dufu, which he had propagated himself, but against the zikri ya kukohoa specifically which was linked with the Uways tradition. Shaykh Uways indeed seems to have been a personal foe of 84 chapter three

Shaykh al-Amawī, possibly due to disputes between the two families in Brawa. Family feuds between the Uways branch and the Amawī branch of the Qādiriyya, which was well connected with some leading Ibā ī families in Zanzibar, in particular, the Mundhirī family, as well as with the Farsy-family by marriage (IC26, 22.8.2007; IC24, 23.8.2007; see below), thus informed the development of both branches of the Qādiriyya to some extent (IC90, 22.5.2002). While Shaykh al-Amawī was prepared to defend, in the 1860s, the zikri ya dufu, he criticized, in the 1880s and 1890s, the zikri ya kukohoa that was connected with the competing Uways branch of the Qādiriyya. The dispute between Shaykh al-Amawī and Shaykh Uways acquires a different meaning and even an open-ended reading, depending on whether it is seen from a Zanzibar or a Brawa perspective. Shaykh Uways thus claimed that Shaykh al-Amawī had become one of his muqaddamūn (local representatives) in Zanzibar (Reese 2008: 226). This claim, as expressed in a list of muqaddamūn of Shaykh Uways mentioned in a hagiographic account of his life titled al-jawhar al-nafīs (the pre- cious jewel), may be interpreted in a number of ways: Shaykh al-Amawī, while having initially opposed Shaykh Uways in Brawa and Zanzibar, may eventually have come to accept his leading role within the Qādiriyya in Brawa. Secondly, Shaykh al-Amawī might have denounced in his poem another form and practice of the dhikr that was not at all linked with the forms of the dhikr as introduced by Shaykh Uways; thirdly, the dispute between Shaykh al-Amawī and Shaykh Uways may reflect a Zanzibari perspective only. In Brawa, both shaykhs were eventually accepted as leading scholars, even if Shaykh Uways originally seems to have encountered problems due to his servile background. In Brawa, the Qādiriyya also had to face opposition from the Amadiyya movement of reform as led by Muammad Abdille asan, who led a vicious war against the Qādiriyya beginning in the 1890s. In this struggle, Shaykh Uways was eventually killed in 1909 by local allies of Muammad Abdille asan. In Zanzibar, by contrast, the Qādiriyya did not face comparable opposition. Internal disputes may thus have been discussed in a more prominent way than in Brawa (IC91, 8.8.2005). Despite the fact that Shaykh al-Amawī criticized the zikri ya kukohoa of Shaykh Uways as a bida, an un-Islamic innovation, the zikri ya kukohoa was nothing new for Shaykh Uways, who had witnessed this form of the dhikr when he was studying in Bagdad, where the Traditions of reform, reforms of tradition 85 zikri ya kukohoa was part of an old Qādirī tradition. Thus, whereas the Amawī branch of the Qādiriyya saw the zikri ya kukohoa in the context of their competition with other scholars of the Qādiriyya as turning the dhikr into an ‘African’ form of ritual, this dhikr was perceived by scholars of the Uways branch of the Qādiriyya as an absolutely normal form of practice and even a more authentic Qādirī, since it was practiced in the very centre of the Qādiriyya, in Bagdad. At the same time, it is not really clear how Shaykh al-Amawī wanted his poem against the zikri ya kukohoa to be understood. Some scholars, for instance, have maintained that Shaykh al-Amawī wrote his poem not to attack Shaykh Uways personally, but to warn Muslims that the practice of the dhikr was about to become ‘too ecstatic’ and could thus no longer be performed in mosques (IC4, 21.2.2003; IC73, 27.2.2003). The attack on the zikri ya kukohoa as a un-Islamic innovation can thus be seen as a function of local religious disputes that activated well known strategies of legitimization and delegitimization (see Loimeier 2003a). The critique of specific forms of Sufi teachings and rituals has, in fact, often been connected with dynamics of competition amongst religious scholars over questions of authority in local settings and, thus, local contexts of dispute, even if the discursive elements that are activated for the legitimization of specific religious positions are quoted from greater, translocal discursive traditions or frames of reference. These traditions and respective strategies of argumentation have residual character and may be activated in comparable constellations of dispute, at any time, should the need arise. In the 1940s, Abdallāh āli al-Farsy thus used al-Amawī’s polemics against the zikri ya kukohoa in his own struggle against the zikri ya kukohoa practices of Mamūd b. Kombo from Makunduchi/Zanzibar (d. 1968; see chapter 7 and B100; see his picture on p. 144). Mamūd b. Kombo was again linked, through Umar Qullatayn, with the Uways branch of the Qādiriyya. By quoting Shaykh al-Amawī’s poem against the zikri ya kukohoa, Abdallāh āli al-Farsy was able to point out in a very scholarly and clever way to the Qādiris of his day (the 1940s) that even well known and respected Qādirī scholars of those days (the 1890s), such as Shaykh al-Amawī, had criticized these rituals (al-Farsy 1972: 14-15). In his polemic against the zikri ya kukohoa, Abdallāh āli al-Farsy never mentioned, however, that Shaykh al-Amawī had written, in the 1860s, another treatise in defense of the zikri ya dufu, although this practice could as easily be 86 chapter three attacked, in the 1940s, as a bida as the practice of the zikri ya kukohoa in the 1890s and the 1940s. Although Abdallāh āli al-Farsy’s reference to Shaykh al-Amawī’s poem was thus totally out of its original temporal context, it was set within a similar context of confrontation, and in each case of conflict, legitimatory links were cultivated: to Bagdad, in Shaykh Uways’ case against Shaykh al-Amawī in the 1890s; to an earlier tradition of Islamic learning that was represented as being more authentic Qādirī than contemporary practices, in Abdallāh āli al-Farsy’s case against Mamūd b. Kombo, in the 1940s. Despite the attacks of the Amawī branch of the Qādiriyya, the students and followers of Shaykh Uways were able to maintain their social position in East Africa after the death of Shaykh Uways and to become part of the local establishment of scholars. Patterns of legitimization and delegitimization thus seem to persist as tenaciously as alleged ‘un-Islamic innovations’: strategies of legitimization, often imply a legitimatory reference to a major centre of Islamic learning, preferably outside Africa, while strategies of delegitimization often tend to denounce specific religious practices as African survivals. These disputes also show, that interpretation and presentation of a specific ritual in the respective texts and discourses of a specific era as orthodox or unorthodox, Islamic or un-Islamic, African or Arab, may not only be deceptive with regard to legitimatory considerations, but should also be seen as being rooted in contexts of dispute and the negotiation of claims for leadership and hegemony of interpretation (‘Deutungshegemonie’). As a consequence, the interpretation of the issues at stake as well as the legitimatory references may change at any time, if the context changes. The scholarly disputes discussed above did not impede the development of the Qādiriyya as a major Sufi brotherhood in East Africa or Zanzibar. Based on three founding fathers, namely usayn b. Abdallāh al-Mū īnī (al-Muini, Mwinyi), Uways b. Muammad al-Barawī and Abd al- Azīz b. Abd al-Ghanī al-Amawī, all from Brawa, the Qādiriyya in Zanzibar developed into a number of different, yet interrelated branches in the 20th century (see above). In 2006, these branches of the Qādiriyya had about 130 zawāya (Sufi centres), mostly based in urban Zanzibar and the central and south- eastern part of Unguja, in particular Fumba, Bumbwini, Dunga, Matemwe, Upenja and Makunduchi, as well as on the island of Traditions of reform, reforms of tradition 87

Tumbatu and adjacent regions in northern Unguja (IC14, 30.8.2004; Fuji 2007: 135ff). The fragmentation of the Qādiriyya into several branches and numerous family networks came to mean that the Qādiriyya never constituted a homogeneous religio-political movement. Rather, different branches and family networks, even single scholars, were prepared to cooperate with different political forces, or to abstain from politics as such, as can be shown in the life and legacy of asan b. Amīr (see below). The fragmentation of the Qādiriyya also came to mean that the Qādiriyya was never seen as a political threat by Abeid Amani Karume and the revolutionary government in Zanzibar. As a consequence, the Qādiriyya suffered much less in the revolution than, for instance, the Alawiyya which was perceived by Karume as a corporate group with a corporate identity (see chapter 9). While Uways b. Muammad al-Barawī and Abd al- Azīz b. Abd al-Ghanī al-Amawī were the leading figures of the Qādiriyya in Zanzibar in the late 19th century, the same could be said of another scholar of the mid 20th century, namely, asan b. Amīr (his name was usually spelled ‘Ameir’ in Tanzania, but he signed his letters .Amīr b. Manzi b. ājj b see DUMT 2004: 37).5 asan b. ,ﻋﻤﻴﺮ Khaīb al-Shirāzī (1300/1880-1399/8 October 1979; see his picture on p. 146) was a major representative of the Uways branch of the Qādiriyya in Zanzibar. He has often been underrated because he did not belong to the established and largely urban traditions of learning in Zanzibar but represented local traditions of learning, in particular, those of the ‘Hadimu fringe’ in Makunduchi. In Zanzibar, representatives of these non-urban traditions of learning are often referred to in rather pejorative terms as shamba scholars. It must be noted, however, that there have been important centres of Islamic learning in Zanzibar outside Zanzibar Stone Town, such as Tumbatu and Makunduchi (IC26, 28.2.2003), as has been shown above in the presentation of the different networks of the Qādiriyya in Zanzibar: major scholars of the Qādiriyya in Zanzibar were in fact shamba scholars.

5 For the biography of asan b. Amīr, see ZNA SB 1/32, ash-Shaykh al-ālam al-ulamā assan b. Amīr by Ameir Tajo ‘Kubwa’, Kadi wa Zanzibar, al-Khayriya Press, Zanzibar; Ziddy 2001, 2005 and 2006; the articles by Hamza Zubeir Rijaal in Maarifa, 3, 16.1.-14.2.2002: al-Mar ūm Shaykh assan b. Ameir: Kinara wa ilmu; Mw. Idris in Dira, 1.-7.8.2003: Mjue Shaykh Hassan b. Ameir ash-Shirazi; as well as DUMT 2003: Tusikubali Kubaguliwa Kielimu: Nasaha za Shaykh Hassan bin Ameir. 88 chapter three

As such, asan b. Amīr represented a tradition of learning, neglected so far in academic research that could be called a ‘Makunduchi network’. asan b. Amīr was indeed the teacher of a number of personalities from Makunduchi who were later to become important, including several Chief Qā īs and the Muftī of Zanzibar (IC3, 17/18.2.2003). The life of asan b. Amīr also shows that there was no real separation between ‘town’ and shamba scholars, but mutual interaction. In Western academic representations of Zanzibar’s intellectual history, ‘town’ scholars have so far been over-represented, while even Alawī shamba scholars such as Sa īd b. Damān or al-Wāshilī (in Mkokotoni) have been largely disregarded (IC73, 25.2.2003). asan b. Amīr was born in Mtegani/Makunduchi. He studied the Qur ān in Makunduchi with Mwalimu Majaaliwa and became his ‘aide’ to help with teaching the smaller children. When he had accomplished the memorization of the Qur ān, he continued his studies in Dunga-Kiangale (Central Unguja) where he studied tajwīd with Muammad b. Alī al-Barwānī, and then continued his tajwīd studies in Upenja (Northern Unguja). Subsequently, he went to Zanzibar town and became a student at the Ukutani madrasa (see below, 3.3), where he studied both the manqūlāt and the maqūlāt (see chapter 4). His teachers were Alī b. Abdallāh al-Mundhirī, amdān b. Muammad al-Qaānī, Sa īd b. Muammad b. Damān, Muammad b. Alī al-Khamīs al-Barwānī, Muammad b. Alī b. Amūr al-Ghāzī, Muammad b. Abdallāh b. Wazīr al-Qumrī, Alī b. Abdallāh al-Mundhirī, Abd al-Ramān b. asan, Abdallāh b. Amūr al- Azrī and Alī b. Muammad al-Mundhirī, both Ibā ī Qā īs. He also got ijāzāt from Amad b. Sumay and Sālim b. āfi' b. Shaykh b. Abībakar b. Sālim, as well as Abd al-Raīm b. Mamūd al-Wāshilī al-Qumrī, the Ibā ī Qā ī in Mkokotoni in the 1920s. In 1907-08, he also went to the (first) government school in Zanzibar and was taught by the Egyptian teacher Abd al-Bāri al- Ajīzī, as well as by Abd al-Ramān Muammad al-Kindī (from Oman), Shaykh Mukhtalif, a Javanese teacher and Mr. Lyne. With al- Ajīzī he studied kha (writing), qirā a (reading), isāb li-marifa al-adād (mathematics), qismat al-mawārīth (inheritance rules), as well as Shāfi ī fiqh, adīth, taw īd and Arabic. After getting his government school certificate, he started to work, in 1909-10, as a teacher of Kiswahili in government schools in Makunduchi, Muyuni, Kiembe Samaki and Chake Chake. Traditions of reform, reforms of tradition 89

In 1920, he left government school teaching and started to work as clerk (ukarani) in the office of the Chief Qā ī, first in Zanzibar town, then, from 1930, in Chwaka. In the 1920s and 1930s, he worked with a number of Shāfi ī and Ibā ī Qā īs of Zanzibar such as Amad b. Sumay, Alī b. Muammad al-Mundhirī (1866-1925), Burhān b. Abd al- Azīz al-Amawī and āhir b. Abībakar al-Amawī. In 1914, Shaykh asan also established an evening school (madrasat al-masā iyya) in Misufini, Zanzibar that was called after him ‘al-Shirāziyya’. When he returned home from his government job he taught fiqh, taawwuf and other disciplines in this evening school. Each Ramadan, he taught the tafsīr al-jalālayn in the Mwembetanga mosque. He had numerous students from Makunduchi, Zanzibar Town, Pemba, the Comoros, Dar es Salaam and other parts of East Africa. From Zanzibar were abīb Alī Kombo (the Chief Qā ī from 1974-1985) and Ramadhan b. Ja far, who also studied under Abd al-Raīm b. Mamūd al-Wāshilī (B177; see his picture on p. 140) in Mkokotoni, where al-Wāshilī lived and taught. Other students were Fatawi Issa (1900-1987, the Chief Qā ī from 1964-1974; B48), who was also a student of Muammad b. Abdallāh b. Wazīr (B179), Abd al-Raīm b. Mamūd al-Wāshilī, Abūbakar Bā Kathīr and Umar b. Sumay, amongst others. asan b. Amīr equally taught Fatawi Issa’s son, Kassim Fatawi Issa (d. 2000) and Mamūd b. Kombo, who obtained an ijāza as a student of asan b. Amīr in 1959 (Ameir 2006: 359-60). Other students of asan b. Amīr were Ameir Tajo ‘Mkubwa’ (Chief Qā ī of Zanzibar from 1985-1992, B174), Muammad Naor, Musa Makungu (Chief Qā ī of Zanzibar from 1992-2006), as well as the present Muftī of Zanzibar, Harith b. Khelef al-Ghaythi (B53), and, finally, Manab Alī. Other students were Sayyid Muammad b. Abd al-Ramān from the Comoros, later a Muftī of Grande Comore, Rashīd b. ājj, a dāiya of Islam in Tabora, usayn Badawī and Abdallah Iddi Chaurembo, although these students did not necessarily become members of the Qādiriyya (IC3, 9.3.2003; IC26, 25.5.2004; see complete list of students in DUMT 2003, 10-12 and Ziddy 2006: 35-6). In their heterogeneity, the students and disciples of asan b. Amīr reflect the diversity of the Qādiriyya and the entanglement of scholarly traditions in Zanzibar (IC72, 20.3.2003; IC27, 30.7.2002). After his time as a teacher and clerk of the Zanzibari qā īs, asan b. Amīr stopped working for the government and concentrated, in a reaction to increasing Christian mission activities on the mainland, 90 chapter three on dawa in Tanganyika and other East African territories. As Zanzibar at that period of time was the home of many famous scholars, it would probably have been difficult for him to establish himself in Zanzibar as yet another ālim (IC26, 26.5.2004; IC73, 5.9.2002). In 1940 (or 1944), he moved to mainland Tanganyika and settled in the Magomeni quarter of Dar es Salaam, but continued to travel and live in other countries. Up to 1968, he lived in Tanganyika, Congo, Rwanda and Burundi, where he established the centre for Islamic dawa in Bujumbura. He also visited Mecca, where he performed both ajj and umra, and Medina, where he visited the tomb of the Prophet. In 1943, he went to Bagdad, where he visited the zāwiya and tomb of Abd al-Qādir al-Jīlānī and thus acquired a direct link to the centre of the Qādiriyya. In addition, he visited Jerusalem, Beirut and Cairo where he met students from East Africa who were studying at al-Azhar. He also met the Shaykh al-Azhar, Muammad Zaitūtī and the shaykh al-khuba at al-Azhar (see Ziddy 2006). After his return to Tanganyika, he settled in Dar es Salaam, at 29 Mafia Street, Kariakoo, but also stayed for some time in Magomeni. He again started to teach in mosques, amongst others the ‘Mskiti wa Ngazija’, and had many students from all over Tanganyika. In 1945, he joined the East African Muslim Welfare Society (EAMWS, see below) that in the 1950s came to be an East African umbrella organization for Muslim activities, in particular with respect to education, but also with respect to the formulation of Muslim positions in the different East African territories. From the 1950s, he supported the struggle of the Tanganyika African Association for independence, and in 1954 he became a prominent founding member of the Tanganyika African National Union. He even issued membership cards for TANU in the context of his visits to mosques and madāris in Tanganyika (Said 1998: 295). In this way, asan b. Amīr not only rallied widespread Muslim support for TANU, as most arīqa leaders followed him in this policy, but he also developed a close link with Julius Nyerere, the future President of Tanganyika (see Said 1998: 120ff, 167ff and 268ff; IC41, 15.3.2003, IC73, 15.3.2003). In the 1950s, he rose to the position of the Muftī of Tanganyika, a position he was to keep until 1968, and thus acquired considerable fame as a dāiya of Islam in East Africa. At the same time, he can be regarded as a ‘government scholar’, the Badawī-mosque in Dar es Salaam being his major centre of teaching (Said 1998: 317). Traditions of reform, reforms of tradition 91

In the 1960s, as Muftī of Tanganyika, as well as due to his leading role within the EAMWS, he continued to be the most prominent Muslim scholar in Tanganyika (for his role in mainland politics, see DUMT 2003: X; Loimeier 2007b: 137ff). In the context of disputes in Tanzania concerning the role of the EAMWS, asan b. Amīr was increasingly marginalized, however, within the Tanzanian branch of the EAMWS (see Said 1998). asan b. Amīr rejected the division of the EAMWS into national organizations in the late 1960s and was not prepared to condone a number of political decisions of the Nyerere administration. Finally, Abdallah Iddi Chaurembo, one of his students, took control over the EAMWS, which was subsequently dissolved and replaced in 1968 by a Tanzanian national organization, BAKWATA (Baraza la Kuu ya Waislamu wa Tanzania). In December 1968, asan b. Amīr was deported by the Nyerere administration to Zanzibar (Said 1998 and Chande 1998: 133ff). He returned to Zanzibar as an old man, after an absence of 28 years. After his return to Zanzibar, he was appointed Kadi wa sulhu at the people’s court in Raha Leo in Ngambo (i.e. not Qā ī proper at the ma kama, the ‘Kadhi’s Court’ in Vuga), until he died on 8 October 1979. The Raha Leo court became known as the Korti ya Shaykh Hassan bin Ameir (DUMT 2003: 31). He also continued to teach and to give legal advice and had students from both Zanzibar and the mainland (see a picture of his family on p. 146).6 Due to his changing role in Tanzanian politics, asan b. Amīr has been discussed in controversial terms in Tanzania, while he has also become an ‘icon’ of Muslim identity and reform. His followers in Zanzibar, in particular, maintain that asan b. Amīr did not like

6 Apart from his activities as a dāiya of Islam in East Africa, asan b. Amīr wrote books such as wasīlat al-rajā (publ. 1951), a shar on the safīnat al-najā , which was again a commentary text on Shāfi ī law. He also wrote fat al-kabīr, a shar on the mukhtaar al-aghīr (publ. 1955); madārij al-ulā, a shar on the tabāruk dhī l-ulā (publ. 1966); iqd al-iqyān, a shar on the mawlid al-jīlānī (publ. 1949); maslak al-mu tāj ilā bayān iilā al-minhāj (publ. 1966), a shar on the kitāb fā il al-mu tāj; ī ā al-īmān al-asmā , a shar on the ayab al-asmā (the most noble names of God), published posthumously in 1987, and tu fat al-zinjibār, a shar on the muqaddima al- a ramiyya (publ. 1979, see Ziddy 2005: 12-21). After his death, his followers built a zāwiya and tomb in Makunduchi-Mtegani that was called al- Madrasa al-asaniyya, while a new mosque named after him was built on the main road leading into Makunduchi. In the 1920s (or 1930s), some of his students had already established the Madrasa Amīriyya in the Kwa Ali Nathoo quarter of Ng’ambo, Zanzibar (IC73 and IC21, 5.9.2002, IC72, 8.3.2003; see also chapter 9). 92 chapter three politics (Sheykh Hassan hakupenda siasa, Ziddy 2006: 58) and was interested in teaching and dawa rather than in politics, while others claim that he supported TANU and Nyerere, with whom he cultivated close personal but not political ties to promote Islamic education. Still others maintain that asan b. Amīr had a prominent role in the EAMWS until its very end and that he spoke out against the ‘TANU fraction’ within the EAMWS in order to conserve its unity. He was deported to Zanzibar as a result of his opposition to this TANU fraction, which eventually established BAKWATA. Again other sources claim that asan b. Amīr left politics alijiuzulu( siasa) after independence and concentrated on religious issues. Due to his refusal to get involved in politics, he became a problem for Nyerere, as it was not easy to convince him to support the government in political terms (al-Nuur, 6.-12.9.2002; for Nyerere’s politics regarding Islamic issues, see Said 1998 and Njozi 2000 and 2003). These contradictory positions reflect pro- and anti-government, pro- and anti- CCM, and pro-and anti-BAKWATA positions among Tanzania’s Muslims to this day, and are the reason why different groups try to claim asan b. Amīr’s legacy for their own struggle in order to justify, for instance, their critique of specific actions of the government. Such critique was voiced clearly in al-Nuur in 2003 in an article that criticized the shifting of graves in a Muslim cemetery in Ilala, Dar es Salaam, for construction reasons. The article referred to a fatwā by asan b. Amīr (Asikanyage mtu kufukua kaburi, al-Nuur, 15.8.2003). asan b. Amīr’s legacy came to be instrumentalized thus for specific reasons and his life was consequently interpreted in different ways by different groups. In the context of his activities in Tanzanian politics, asan b. Amīr has even been ‘adopted’ by activist Anār al- Sunna groups (see 3.5.), which cultivate his memory in order to present him as an early opponent (and victim) of the Nyerere administration.

3.3. The Alawiyya The Qādiriyya was not the only new religious movement that spread and introduced new ritual practices on the East African coast in the late 19th century. Since the 1860s, scholars affiliated with the Alawiyya, a religious group that recruited its followers among families of sharīfian descent in the Hadramaut region of Southern Arabia, Traditions of reform, reforms of tradition 93 came to represent another major tradition of reform on the East African coast. As a result of its historical importance, the Alawiyya has been studied and documented extensively, for instance in Abdallāh āli al-Farsy’s biographical account of East African scholars, in ALA IIIb (forthcoming), and in the work of Bang, Freitag Hoffman, Martin, Pouwels and Reese. Despite its arīqa-like appear- ance, the Alawiyya can be seen as a union of scholars of Hadrami origin, united by their ancestry as sayyids, descendants of the Prophet, or, even better, as a ‘family order’ (Freitag 2003: 91; see Freitag 2003 for the genealogical descent of the Alawī families). The Alawī families in Hadramaut, Zanzibar, Lamu, Mombasa and the Comoros indeed formed family networks that were in constant contact. These families, in particular the families of Abūbakar b. Sālim, Sumay, Jamal al-Layl, Badawī, Wazīr and Makhzūmī influenced Islamic scholarship in Zanzibar from the late 19th century to 1964 and formed a large network of relationships. During this period, almost every learned Zanzibari studied in a madrasa with a scholar from these families. Their influence was so pervasive that a contemporary Kenyan religious scholar, Abdilahi Nassir, compared the Alawī tradition of education with the British college system and added that students educated within the Alawī tradition of Islamic learning wore the ‘same college tie’ (college tie moja; quoted in Kresse 2007b: 239). However, although all members of Alawī-families may claim sayyid status, only some Alawīs were scholars. Many were traders, entrepreneurs and craftsmen (IC73, 18.3.2003). Alawī families also cultivated a number of rituals that linked them epistemically to Sufi brotherhoods, such as the recitation of a rātib, a litany of prayers, for an Alawī saint or scholar, or the celebration of the mawlid al-nabī, but the genealogical link to the Prophet was more important than Sufi teachings, even if many Alawī shaykhs claimed a spiritual link to the Maghribinian Sufi saint Shu ayb Abū Madyan. The most important Alawī communal ritual was the veneration of the Prophet, though, as emphasized in the celebration of the mawlid (Bang 2003: 18ff and 148ff). Alawiyya scholars also adopted a critical position towards the religious establishment on the East African coast, as well as towards some Qādirī scholars. A major feature of Alawī traditions of learning in Zanzibar was that Alawī scholars opened up education to many, broadened the spectrum of the canon of texts, started to 94 chapter three translate texts into Kiswahili, and stressed disciplines such as fiqh that had been less prominent on the East African coast before the 1860s (see chapter 4). The efforts of Alawī scholars in the sphere of education led to the foundation of new schools. By abandoning exclusivist forms of Islamic education, the scholars of the Alawiyya thus went one step further than the scholars of the Qādiriyya who, with their communal dhikr, had contributed to the opening of Islamic ritual to all Muslims. As a result of the endeavours of Alawī scholars to open up education and to develop new schools, such as the Madrasat Bā Kathīr, al-Falaq eventually came to call Zanzibar ‘the qibla’ (point of orientation) for education in East Africa (al-Falaq, 20 May 1939). Alawī scholars not only implemented reforms in the sphere of ritual and Islamic education, they were also linked to wider discourses on reform in the Islamic world of the late 19th and early 20th centuries (Pouwels 1987: 139). Alawī initiatives of reform in East Africa were linked in fact with a corresponding reform movement among the religious scholars of the Alawiyya in Hadramaut. This movement of reform was initiated by Alawī b. Abd al-Ramān al-Mashhūr (1846/7-1922/3), who eventually visited Zanzibar in 1911 as guest of Amad b. Sumay (Bang 2003: 62; 113; see below). In 1873/74, al-Mashhūr had spent some time at al-Azhar in Cairo where he witnessed the start of Egyptian educational reforms that came initially to mean a formalization of the curricula of the religious sciences. 1872 was in fact a decisive year for social reforms in the Islamic world: al-Azhar introduced entry examinations, registration of students, diplomas and final examinations (Bang 2003: 62). These reforms had repercussions in the Hadramaut, where they were introduced, in part at least, in the Ribā al-Riyā a in Say ūn that had been established in 1878/79 by Alī b. Muammad al-ibshī. After his return to the Hadramaut in 1881, al-Mashhūr became a teacher in the Ribā al-Riyā a in Say ūn. Al-ibshī’s and al-Mashhūr’s reform efforts were commu- nicated to Indonesia, India and East Africa and discussed within the network of Hadrami students and scholars (Bang 2003: 75). From 1886, the ribā in Say ūn was even financed, as ‘a boarding school in the country’ for the (male) children of the Hadrami diaspora, by rich Hadramis in Singapore who had donated and set up some houses for rent and used to proceeds to finance the school (Ho 2005: 242). However, the Azhar reforms, as well as those in the Hadramaut, Traditions of reform, reforms of tradition 95 remained confined for the time being to changes in formal structures as well as some aspects of scholarly orientation. They were not (yet) a change in ‘theology’ (Bang 2003: 71). The new ribās in Say ūn and Tarīm did not follow the established alqa system anymore and were rather characterized by the fact that a group of teachers in the school gave a number of fixed courses in a four year ‘curriculum’ which put major stress on fiqh. The students, though still sitting in circles, were organized in classes according to their abilities and progress (Freitag 2003: 284). The first ‘modern course’ started on 3 October 1887 and was directed by Abd al-Ramān b. Muammad al-Mashhūr (Freitag 2003: 284). The concept of Islamic education ‘in organized, academically structured institutions privately funded and privately run’, as developed in the Hadramaut, was subsequently adopted by Amad b. Sumay and Abdallāh Bā Kathīr and cultivated in East Africa (Bang 2003: 62ff; see also chapter 4). Due to the absence of established traditions of Islamic learning in mid-19th century Zanzibar, Alawī scholars found it easy in fact to start new schools in Zanzibar. They introduced new concepts of Islamic learning that were directly linked with the prestigious centres of scholarship in the Hadramaut and Hijaz and were thus independent of local traditions of learning in other parts of the East African coast (Pouwels 1987: 139). And even though scholarship remained elitist in some families, at least until the early 20th century, other Alawī scholars started to translate texts into Kiswahili and entered into competition among themselves as well as with the scholars of the Qādiriyya who had opened the ritual to the less educated Wageni (‘foreigners’) and Watumwa (‘slaves’). Alawī scholars introduced many texts unknown so far in East Africa and expanded the canon of Islamic learning. In addition to the study of the Qur ān, which, like ilm al-falak, was established on the East African coast, Alawī scholars introduced new texts in the spheres of fiqh and its branches, as well as aqīda, taw īd, adīth, na w, arf, bayān, maniq, tafsīr and taawwuf (Pouwels 1987: 149). Due to their expertise, many Alawī scholars became ‘court scholars’ and mediators of knowledge. However, Islamic scholarship and learning was not confined to Alawī scholars alone. There were, as has been shown above, other scholarly networks, such as those linked with the Qādiriyya or the Shādhiliyya, as well as a considerable number of scholars of Comorian origin who were affiliated with many of these networks simultaneously. 96 chapter three

Being outsiders and a comparatively small group, Comorians occupied a special position in Zanzibar: they were a well-educated group that was highly represented in the lower and medium echelons of the colonial administration (IC64, 10.5.2002), as shown by the example of the ‘Manab’ (al-usaynī) family, a family of Comorian royal origin which has so far been neglected in research, possibly due to the strong emphasis on the Sumay and Bā Kathīr families, or due to the fact that the Manab family did not quite fit into sharīfian Alawī traditions and could even be regarded as forming a link with a later, Salafiyya-oriented tradition of reform. The genealogical chain of the Manab family in Zanzibar stretches from Amad b. Alī Manab al-usaynī (1863-1927, B66) through āmid b. Amad (1901-1965, B67), who became a teacher of Abdallāh āli al-Farsy, to Amad b. āmid Manab (1928-1977, B68). Like his younger brother, Muammad b. āmid Manab, who died in 2003, he became attached to Salafī ideas of reform (IC26, 30.7.2003 and IC73, 22.8.2002). Another famous scion of the Manab family was Abd al-Ramān Muammad ‘Babu’ (al-usaynī, d. 1996), one of Zanzibar’s leading revolutionaries (see chapter 2). Amad b. Alī b. ‘Mwinyi Mkuu (alias ‘Sayyid Manab’, the ‘leader’; see his picture on p. 138) al-usaynī was born in Unguja, of an originally royal Comorian family which also claimed noble status in Unguja. He studied fiqh with Muammad b. Amad al-Muronī alias ‘al-Mlomry’ (d. 1897, B126), as well as na w (grammar) and lugha (Arabic language) with Alī b. Khamīs al-Barwānī and later became famous for his discussions with representatives of the Universities’ Mission to Central Africa (UMCA). Sayyid Manab was also interested in history as well as painting, and painted a portrait of Sultan Khalīfa b. Sa īd (al-Farsy 1972: 8/37; Bang 2003: 135/6). He acted as khaīb of the Forodhani mosque in Zanzibar from 1882 to 1919, and taught in Gofu mosque where he also led the witr and tarāwī prayers. Sayyid Manab was part of a group of six famous teachers at Barza mosque in the 20th century. This mosque actually belonged to the Manab family and was later turned into a waqf, a pious endowment (see chapter 9). The other five ‘Barza’ teachers were Abdallāh āli al-Farsy, Muammad b. Abd al-Ramān al-Makhzūmī (B114), Sulaymān (b. Muammad) al- Alawī Jamal al-Layl (B84), Mu allim imīd (B63) and Abdallāh Mu adhdhin (B131; IC26, 25.5.2004; chapter 9). Like a number of other scholars in Zanzibar, Sayyid Manab was known to read the tafsīr of Muammad Abduh, Traditions of reform, reforms of tradition 97 as well as al-manār, the major journal of the Salafiyya reform movement, and he belonged to a circle of reform-oriented personalities in Zanzibar, together with Amad b. Muammad ‘al-Mlomry’ (d. 1936, B127), two Egyptian scholars and traders, Muammad Jamāl and Umar Lufī, who seem to have been local opponents of Amad b. Sumay, as well as Muammad b. Muammad Bā Qashmar (B23), who had been living in exile for some years from 1889 and who joined the Manab group after his return from the Middle East (Bang 2003: 136; Pouwels 1987: 130/1; 206/7). Their openness towards reformist ideas from the Middle East rather than the Hadramaut may have been perceived as a challenge by some Alawī scholars such as Amad b. Sumay (Bang 2003: 139), although their disputes never developed into an open conflict (IC26, 26.7.2007). It is interesting, however, to note that the scholars of the (‘Comorian’) Manab family and their students cultivated contacts with Abdallāh Bā Kathīr (who was not a Sayyid, unlike Amad b. Sumay, and who shunned government service) and his school in Ukutani.7 At the same time, there was little interaction with Amad b. Sumay (who accepted to serve as Muftī and later Chief Qā ī for the British) and his students. However, a number of scholars and students in the Bā Kathīr, Manab and Sumay ‘networks’ became government school teachers, Qā īs and bureaucrats from the early 1920s onward. According to Abdallāh āli al-Farsy, who defended Sayyid Manab against local critique, Sayyid Mansab had ideas that Unguja’s religious scholars were not used to. Some went behind his back and insulted his name in whatever way they could. They used to say one sentence, in particular, to show his badness and said: ‘He reads the journal al-Manar’, as if ‘al-Manar’ was a journal that abused God, and His faith and His Prophet! (Sayid Man- sab alikuwa na fikira zisizowafikiwa na wanavyuoni wa Unguja— wakaenda kinyume naye sana na wakampinga na kuliharibu jina lake kama wanavyoweza. Jumla moja waliokuwa wakiitumia sana kwa kuo- nyesha ubaya wake ni kusoma, ‘Anasoma gazeti la Manara’, kama kwamba ‘Al-Manara’! ni gazeti la kutukana Mungu na dini Yake na Mtume Wake! (al-Farsy 1972: 8).

7 This school, which became known as theMadrasat Bā Kathīr (see chapter 9), was part of the house of Abdallāh Bā Kathīr, which had been built on a piece of land in Ukutani belonging to the Manab family. The graveyard behind the house became the cemetery of the Manab (al-usaynī) family. It contains the grave of Abd al-Ramān Muammad ‘Babu’ al-usaynī. Other tombs are those of Abūbakar Bā Kathīr, Abdallāh b. Abī Bakr ‘Mu allim’ Bā Kathīr as well as Muammad b. Umar al-Khaīb (IC4, 7 September 2002). 98 chapter three

Amad b. Alī Manab died on 19 October 1927, after a serious illness (al-Farsy 1972: 8-9; Bang 2003: 101; IC26, 25.5.2004). His son, āmid (b. Amad) Manab al-usaynī (1901-65; see his picture on p. 139), was a student of Abdallāh Bā Kathīr and Muammad b. Abd al-Ramān al-Makhzūmī and became a teacher of Abdallāh āli al-Farsy. He continued the legacy of the Manab family: from 1919, he taught the Ramadan class at Barza mosque, focusing on the risālat al-jāmia (see chapter 4). He also acted as imām of the Forodhani mosque until his death on 25 December 1965, during a class in Gofu mosque. In 1921, he became a government school teacher and was speaker of the Government School Teachers’ Association (al-Farsy 1972: 39; IC26, 30.7.2003, 26.7.2007). His own son, Amad b. āmid (b. Amad) Manab al-usaynī (1928-77), was educated at the Government Secondary School, but studied in the ribā of Tarīm as well. He was khaīb and imām of the juma mosque in Forodhani for nine years and seems to have turned ‘salafī’ at some point in his life. He taught at the Muslim Academy from 1960, and again, after the revolution, from around 1970 and even became deputy director of the Muslim Academy (see chapter 8). He also was a student of asan b. Amīr (IC26, 25.5.2004; ZNA AD 23/17). The Manab family history shows that four distinct generations of Alawī scholars can be identified in Zanzibar (IC26, 30.8.2002, 3.9.2002; 26.7.2007; see also the biographical dictionary and Bang 2003, who has also worked with the concept of generations of scholars): 1. A first generation in the second half of the 19th century that started with scholars such as Sulaymān ayāt (d. 1875), Muammad b. Amad al-Muronī (‘al-Mlomry’, d. 1897), Fādhil b. Alī Mbangwa (d. 1885), the first to teach at Gofu, and Abūbakar b. Sālim (d. 1870), who were all students of Muyī al-Dīn al-Qaānī at the same time. According to al-Farsy (1972: 22ff and 55ff), some additional scholars of Alawī origin should be added to this list, since they counted among the teachers of the next generation of Alawī scholars in Zanzibar, although they resided in mostly Hadramaut, namely Sayyid Abūbakar b. Abdallāh, āhir b. Sumay, Sayyid al- Aās, Sayyid al-Saqqāf, Abd al-usayn al-Mar ashī, Sayyid Khalīfa Nabahānī, Amad b. Alawī al-Mi ār, Alī b. Muammad al-ibshī, Aydarūs al-ibshī and Shaykh al-Mashhūr, as well as āli Alawī Jamal Traditions of reform, reforms of tradition 99

al-Layl, Alī b. al-asan Jamal al-Layl, Abūbakar al-usaynī, Muammad Shaā , Abūbakar Bā Junayd and Sayyid al-addād al- Aās. These scholars can be viewed as the ‘founding fathers’ of the Alawiyya in Zanzibar and East Africa between the 1850s and 1880s. 2. A second generation of prominent scholars, such as Amad b. Sumay, Abdallāh Bā Kathīr (see below for both), Abdallāh b. Wazīr Msujinī (d. 1904), Sālim al-Shuhaybī (1869-1930), Muhammad b. Abdallāh b. Wazīr (1876-1936) and Amad b. Alī al-usaynī alias ‘Sayyid Manab’ (see above), who became famous as teachers in the early colonial period, from the 1880s to the 1920s. 3. A third generation of scholars, such as amīd b. Amad Manab (1901-1965), Burhan Mkelle (1884-1949), Abū l-asan Jamal al-Layl (1888-1959), Alawī Abd al-Wahhāb Jamal al-Layl (1902- 1960) or Umar b. Sumay (1886-1976), often students of the great teacher-scholars of the second generation, who again dominated scholarship in the late colonial period, between the 1920s and the 1950s, and finally: 4. A fourth generation of scholars, such as Amad b. āmid Manab (d. 1973 ,ﺍﻟﺒﻐﻮﻱ) Abdallāh Mu adhdhin al-Baghwī ,(1928-1977) and Sulaymān (b. Muammad) al- Alawī Jamal al-Layl (B84), who continued to teach in Zanzibar after the revolution but were eventually replaced by a new group of Saudi-educated teachers, such as Mu allim Bā Kathīr (see chapter 9). These scholars and their students, as shown in the chart below, formed the most prominent tradition of Islamic learning in Zanzibar from the 1890s to the 1960s. This tradition of learning was again dominated by two major scholars, Amad b. Sumay and Abdallāh Bā Kathīr and their students, while the Manab family seems to have constituted a competing network that was closer to early Salafī- oriented ideas of reform. In the generation of students, cross-overs increased, however, and the scholars of the 1930s-1950s seem to have formed one rather homogeneous group of ulamā in pre-independence Zanzibar: 100 chapter three

Networks of scholars II: interfaces and entanglements 1890s-1960s The two ‘founding father’ generations of Alawī scholars in Zanzibar: 1860s-1920s 1 Mu ammad 2 Alī b. Khamīs 3 Abū Bakr b. Abd Hadrami scholars b. A mad al-Barwānī al-Ra mān ‘Sayyid al-Muronī (d.1885) Manab’ (d.1922) (d.1897) 4 A mad b. 5 Abdallāh Bā 6 Amad b. Alī Manab (d. Kathīr (AB; d.1925; Sumay (AS; 1927; student Ukutani) d.1925) of 1 and 2)

The two ‘student’ generations, 1920s-1970s

Students of Students of AB Students of Students of AS A mad b. Alī both AB and Manab AS 10 Mu ammad 17 Sālim 22 Sa īd b. Abdallāh al-Shuhaybī Damān (d. 1926; 7 āmid b. Hanzawanī (d.1927) (d. 1930) also student of 10) A mad 11 A mad b. 18 Abūbakar 23 Abd al-Raīm Manab (d. Mu ammad Bā Kathīr al-Wāshilī (d.1936) 1965; also al-Muronī (d.1936) (d. 1943) 24 Abdallāh b. student of 13 12 Mu ammad b. 19 Wazīr (d. 1936) and 20) Khalfān al-Filānī Muammad 25 Ilyās al-Sinesrī (d.1942) b. Umar (d. 1937) 13 Mu ammad al-Khaīb 26 Burhān Mkelle Abd al-Ra mān (d. 1957) (d.1949) 9 Abdallāh āli al-Makhzūmī 20 Sulaymān 27 Abū l-asan b. al-Farsy (d. 1982; (d.1946) al-Alawī Amad Jamal 8 A mad b. linked with 14 Mu sin b. Alī Jamal al-Layl (d.1959) āmid Manab Amawī family by al-Barwānī (d.1953) al-Layl (d. 28 Muammad b. (also student of marriage; student 15 Abdallāh 1970; also Alawī Jamal 9) of 7, 11, 12, 13, Mu ammad Shāirī student of al-Layl (d.1962) 14, 18, 20, 21; (d.1960) 11, 12, 14) also a student of 16 Saīd b. 21 Umar b. Sh. al-Amīn b. Abdallāh Lindi Sumay (d. Alī al-Mazrū ī) ‘Mmakonde’ (d. 1976) 1969; student of 22 and 24)

The two most important representatives of the second generation of the Alawiyya in Zanzibar were Abdallāh Bā Kathīr (see Bang 2003: 97ff) and Sayyid Amad b. Sumay (1861-1925; al-Farsy 1972: 53ff; Bang 2003; see his picture on p. 138). Sayyid Amad’s father (d. 1874) emigrated from Tarīm in Hadramaut in the 1850s. Amad b. Sumay was born in Itsandraa on the island of Ngazija in the Comoros. He studied under his father and other local scholars in Traditions of reform, reforms of tradition 101

Itsandraa. After completing his basic religious education, he became, like his father, a trader and captain of a dhow. He visited the Hadramaut in 1880/1881, continued his religious education and was initiated into the teachings of the Alawiyya (Bang 2003: 64ff). Amongst others, he studied under Aydarūs b. Umar al-ibshī (1821-96), Alī b. Muammad b. usayn al-ibshī (1843-1915) and Abd al-Ramān b. Muammad al-Mashhūr (1834-1902/3). In 1883, after his return from Hadramaut to East Africa, Amad b. Sumay was appointed by Sultan Barghash of Zanzibar, despite his youthful age, to the office of a Qā ī (al-Farsy 1972: 53-4). Seemingly, Amad b. Sumay did not feel quite at ease as a Qā ī. As he did not dare to publicly break with the Sultan, he abandoned his position in 1885 and returned to Itsandraa (al-Farsy 1972: 58; Bang 2003: 77). From Itsandraa he undertook a journey to Istanbul in 1885, where he was received by the Ottoman Sultan, Abd al-amīd, and was put under the tutelage of Fa l b. Alawī b. Sahl alias ‘Fa l Pasha’ (1824-1900), an advisor of the Ottoman Sultan from Hadramaut. Fa l Pasha was instrumental in shaping the Sultan’s pan-Islam policy in a way similar to that of Jamāl al-Dīn al-Afghānī, who was staying in Istanbul at the same period of time. Fa l Pasha had been particularly instrumental in supporting pro-Ottoman movements in India and the Yemen. Amad b. Sumay, however, left Istanbul again in late 1886 or early 1887 and went to Cairo where he taught at al-Azhar without meeting Muammad Abduh, the founder of the Salafiyya reform movement, although he later started to correspond with him and became familiar with Salafī thought. From Cairo, Amad b. Sumay continued his journey to Mecca and Medina and then to India and Java, where he visited a number of Hadrami diaspora communities before finally returning to Itsandraa. After the death of Sultan Barghash, who had him declared a ‘persona non grata’ after his unau- thorized departure from Zanzibar in 1885 (Bang 2003: 77), he returned to Zanzibar in 1888 and was again appointed Qā ī by the new Sultan, Sayyid Khalīfa (al-Farsy 1972: 58). In the early 20th century, Amad b. Sumay became involved in a major dispute-cum-power-struggle in Zanzibar. This dispute was triggered by an attack on the Qādiriyya as formulated in a fatwā against the dhikr of the Qādiriyya and the practices connected with it such as the dancing societies (ngoma) (Bang 2003: 123). In 1903/04, Burhān b. Abd al- Azīz al-Amawī (d. 1935), the Chief Qā ī of 102 chapter three

Zanzibar at that time (who retired in 1932), a leading scholar of the Qādiriyya and one of the advisors of Sultan Alī b. amūd (r. 1902-11), managed to get Amad b. Sumay dismissed as Qā ī of Zanzibar Town and his responsibilities restricted to the rural (shamba) areas (Pouwels 1987: 180). As a result of this intrigue, Amad b. Sumay seems to have been willing to cooperate with the British against Sultan Alī b. amūd and his ally, Burhān b. Abd al- Azīz al-Amawī, when the British decided, in the context of the 1908 jurisdictional reforms (see chapter 2), to remove the right to decide appeal cases from the Sultan. Sultan Alī b. amūd, in con - trast to his predecessors was not knowledgeable in fiqh and had even been educated in Britain. In the course of the 1908 legal reforms, which further weakened the position of the Sultan, Amad b. Sumay was restored to his position as ‘town’ Qā ī in 1908 and was even acknowledged as Muftī in the context of the reorganization of the jurisdiction (Pouwels 1987: 176; Bang 2003: 123). In this position, Amad b. Sumay was able, with British support, to overrule any other legal decision, thus effectively eclipsing the legal authority of both the Sultan and his Chief Qā ī, Burhān b. Abd al- Azīz al-Amawī. This case shows that although some members of the Alawī network of families were regarded as respected scholars, they were not necessarily allies of the Sultans of Zanzibar. Rather, some scholars of the Qādiriyya, both from the Amawī and the Uways branches, seem at times to have had more influence at the court than Alawī scholars. Indeed, disputes between scholarly families were an important feature of life on many levels and may explain some otherwise astonishing alliances across religious affiliations. The Mundhirī family (Ibā ī) was thus linked with the Amawī family (Qādirī-Sunni), while the Amawī family was at odds with Alawī-families such as the Sumay, and were also involved in some disputes with the Uways family (also Qādirī-Sunni), while being linked at the same time to the Farsy family by marriage (IC26, 22.8.2007; IC24, 23.8.2007). The Farsy family was in turn close to the Manab family, as expressed in al-Farsy’s statement on Amad b. Alī Manab quoted above. Amad b. Sumay’s case thus shows that conflict in Zanzibar was not so much defined by brotherhood (or religious) affiliation, as by family politics: although Sultan Barghash had ‘punished’ Abd al- Azīz b. Abd al-Ghanī al-Amawī in rather symbolic ways for the latter’s propagation of the Nūraniyya, which could be interpreted as being Traditions of reform, reforms of tradition 103 part of an anti-Qādirī policy of a Sultan, Sultan Alī b. amūd sided, in 1903/04, with Burhān b. Abd al- Azīz al-Amawī against Amad b. Sumay, when the latter proclaimed a fatwā against the dhikr of the Qādiriyya: Sufi affiliation seems to have become a bone of contention only in contexts of existing disputes (Bang 2003: 119). In his function as Qā ī, Amad b. Sumay criticized some traditions of teaching on the East African coast, as has been mentioned above. In contrast to the widespread veneration of saints, he propagated the veneration of the Prophet, and in the case of existing magico-religious practices he stressed the importance of religious teachings. He started to communicate his ideas of reform to his disciples in private classes in his house. Besides, he taught at Barza mosque in Ukutani (‘at the wall’) on Fridays and in the Ukutani madrasa that was connected with this mosque, as both were part of the al-usaynī (Manab) property in Ukutani. The Ukutanimadrasa had in fact been established by Abdallāh Bā Kathīr on land belonging to the al-usaynī (Manab) family, yet Amad b. Sumay, by contrast to Abdallāh Bā Kathīr, never taught children at Barza. In the Ukutani madrasa, which was a class for advanced students, not only the Qur ān and Islamic law, fiqh, and Arabic grammar, na w, were taught, but also other parts of the Islamic canon of sciences such as tafsīr, exegesis of the Qur ān, and adīth, both sciences that were regarded by the Salafiyya reform movement as essential for a new interpretation of the faith, as well as tajwīd (al-Farsy 1972: 58ff). It should be noted here, however, that although scholars such as Amad b. Sumay introduced new texts, they did not yet introduce ‘subjects’ that were not part of the established canon of Islamic sciences. Their achievement was confined, as in the Hadramaut, to the cultivation of some aspects of the Islamic canon of sciences that had hitherto been neglected, and to the formalization of teaching (Bang 2003: 150ff). One of the lasting legacies of Amad b. Sumay was the introduction of a new calculation of prayer times that is applied until today in every mosque in Zanzibar. According to al- Farsy, in the times before Amad b. Sumay’s chart mosques followed their own rules and morning (fajr) prayers were simply announced by an adhān around saa kumi (4 am). Amad b. Sumay, however, showed that it was better to have a more flexible calculation of times according to the proper ‘clock-time’ of Zanzibar’s time-zone throughout the seasons of the (solar) year and Zanzibar’s position in the new 104 chapter three international system of time zones (majira ya zoni). The adhān for fajr prayers in Unguja was thus better done at 4.15 am in the days of the kaskazi season, from November/December to March/April; time was then added in the kusi season from May/June to September/ October until the adhān was done at 5 am before moving back again to 4.15 am during the kaskazi season (al-Farsy 1972: 72). The calculation of prayer times was later modified by al-Farsy and again revised by Amad b. āmid (b. Amad) Manab al-usaynī (IC26, 24.7.2004, 25.5.2004; ZNA AD23/17). Apart from Amad b. Sumay, Abdallāh b. Muammad b. Sālim b. Amad b. Alī Bā Kathīr al-Kindī (1860-1925) must be mentioned as the second major representative of the early Alawī tradition of reform in Zanzibar (al-Farsy 1972: 21ff). He descended from a poor Hadrami family that had migrated from Tarīm to Lamu in the late 18th century (Kagabo 1991: 64). His father had been a Qā ī in Tarīm. His mother, Bint Abdallāh, was a member of the Barwānī family in Zanzibar (al-Farsy 1972: 21ff). On the Swahili coast, Abdallāh Bā Kathīr introduced the custom of holding public classes (‘darsas’) on questions of religion during the month of Ramadan. His efforts at reform were concentrated particularly on the establishment of a new model of Islamic learning. But whereas many of the trader-scholar families who had migrated from Hadramaut could claim sharīfian descent, Abdallāh Bā Kathīr came from non-sharīfian origins (Ho 2006: 230). He had, however, a number of prominent students, such as Muammad Umar al-Khaīb (1876-1957; see ALA IIIb, forthcoming: 24 and below), Musin b. Alī al-Barwānī or his own son, Abūbakar Bā Kathīr, who later also became famous scholars. His major teachers included Abū Bakr b. Abd al-Ramān al-usaynī ‘Sayyid Manab’, from Lamu (B69; 1829-1922), and Amad b. Sumay (al-Farsy 1972: 21ff). In contrast to Amad b. Sumay, Abdallāh Bā Kathīr shunned government contact (Bang 2003: 116). Abdallāh Bā Kathīr left East Africa for the first time in 1887 and travelled to Mecca where he studied at the feet of famous scholars (Pouwels 1987: 155). As recommended by one of his Meccan teachers, Umar b. Abī Bakr Abū Junayd, he undertook a journey to Java in order to also teach there. After his return to East Africa in about 1890, he settled in Zanzibar in the Kajificheni quarters. Later on he built a house in Ukutani on a piece of land belonging to the al-usaynī family. After 1892 he started to teach, at first in this house. In 1909, when it became too small it was expanded, by adding an antechamber that Traditions of reform, reforms of tradition 105 became the Madrasat Bā Kathīr, where he continued to teach until his death in 1925, together with Amad b. Sumay (see also chapter 9). According to Pouwels, it was Abdallāh Bā Kathīr who introduced tarāwī and witr prayers in Zanzibar (Pouwels 1987: 154), although this has also been claimed for his teacher, Abū Bakr b. Abd al-Ramān al-usaynī, alias ‘Sayyid Manab’, who should not be confused with the equally prominent representative of the other ‘Manab’ tradition, Amad b. Alī al-usaynī (see above). Abdallāh Bā Kathīr, in any case, opened the doors of Gofu mosque to the uneducated for his Ramadan classes which were special classes on the basics of the faith, aqīda. He also developed a close friendship with Amad b. Sumay and taught his son, Umar (b. Sumay). In fact, Abdallāh Bā Kathīr had come to Zanzibar looking for a spiritual guide, a miftā (‘key’) and seems to have found this guide in the person of Amad b. Sumay (IC73, 22.8.2002). Further journeys took him to Hadramaut (in 1896), to Egypt (in 1897) and to Cape Town (in 1913/1914), accompanied by Muammad Umar al-Khaīb, where he mediated a religious conflict among Muslims, as well as to Buganda (in 1914), where he held a number of lectures (al-Farsy 1972: 21ff; Pouwels 1987: 158). In 1925, both Amad b. Sumay and Abdallāh Bā Kathīr died, and only two years later, in 1927, Sayyid Manab was to follow suit. Abdallāh Bā Kathīr was buried behind ‘his’ madrasa on property of the usaynī family in Ukutani, while Amad b. Sumay was buried in a grave behind the Malindi juma mosque together with Sa īd b. Damān and Amad b. usayn b. al-Shaykh Abī Bakr b. Sālim al-usaynī (d. 1385/1964). The influence these scholars had on the development of Islamic scholarship in Zanzibar is clear when one considers the students of Abdallāh Bā Kathīr and Amad b. Sumay. Among Amad b. Sumay’s students, apart from Muammad b. Umar al-Khaīb (1876-1957, see below), were Muammad b. Alawī Jamal al-Layl (1886-1962) and Sa īd b. Muammad b. Damān (1877-1926; B42), who was also taught by Muammad b. Abdallāh al-Hanzawanī. Sa īd b. Damān in turn taught asan b. Amīr, Abū l-asan Jamal al-Layl (1888-1959), Ilyās b. Alī al-Sinesrī (1868-1937), Muafā Ja far Jamal al-Layl (1896-1960), Amad b. Abī Bakr b. usayn b. Sālim (1914-1965), Muammad b. Qāmūs b. Faqīh Mmalindī (1899-1969) and Muammad b. Abdallāh b. Wazīr, who again taught Fatawi Issa and Abdallāh Bā Fa l (al-Farsy 1972: 34ff and 58ff; see biographical 106 chapter three dictionary). These eminent scholars never taught children, but classes for advanced students only (IC26, 6.8.2007). Major students of Abdallāh Bā Kathīr were his own son, Abūbakar b. Abdallāh Bā Kathīr (1881-1943; see below and his picture on p. 145), Umar al-Khaīb (1876-1957; see below), and Musin b. Alī b. Īsā al-Barwānī, the father of Alī Musin al-Barwānī (b. 1919) and one of the major scholars of 20th century Zanzibar (1875-1953). Musin b. Alī b. Īsā al-Barwānī also taught at the Gofu mosque and took over the Barza qur ānic class after 1917. In addition, he had classes of his own in a mosque in the Baghani quarter, where he taught several generations of Zanzibari students. These three scholars also took over the darsa at Ukutani, the Madrasat Bā Kathīr, after the death of Abdallāh Bā Kathīr. Other students of Abdallāh Bā Kathīr were Abd al-Shakkur b. āmid b. Alī b. Abd al-Razāq al-Surtī, a Bohora from Surat (Gujarat), who taught Alī Musin al-Barwānī; Amad b. Muammad Mlomry (1873-1936), another teacher of Abdallāh āli al-Farsy, whose travels included trips to Syria and Egypt, where he met Muammad Abduh; Muammad b. Khalfān al-Filānī (1855-1942, B49) who also taught Abdallāh āli al-Farsy; Muammad b. Abd al-Ramān al-Makhzūmī (1877-1946, B114; see his picture on p. 145) who taught at Barza mosque and who also taught āmid b. Amad Manab al-usaynī (1902-1965); āmid b. Amad Manab himself; Muammad b. Abdallāh al-Hanzawanī (1864-1927, B60) who became imām of Gofu mosque; Sālim b. Sa īd b. Sayf al-Shuhaybī, a converted Ibā ī (1869-1930, B169) and a scholar who specialized on fiqh. He founded, in 1922, the Jamīat al-Islāmiyya, probably the first Salafī organization in Zanzibar that was later directed by his student Rashīd b. āmid al-a ramī (B54) who was known, in the early 1960s, as an outspoken ‘Salafī’ (al-Farsy 1972: 40); Jābir b. āli b. Qāsim al-Farsy (1865-1949), Abdallāh āli al-Farsy’s maternal grandfather; Abdallāh b. Muammad Shāirī (1865-1960); abīb b. Muammad Shāirī; Sa īd b. Abdallāh Lindi Mmakonde (al-Farsy 1972: 21ff; IC26, 25 May 2004); and al-Amīn b. Alī al-Mazrū ī (al- Farsy 1972: 42ff). The students of Amad b. Sumay and Abdallāh Bā Kathīr in - cluded Amad b. Sumay’s son, Umar b. Sumay, Abū Bakr b. Abdallāh Bā Kathīr and Umar al-Khaīb. Abū Bakr b. Abdallāh Bā Kathīr (1881-1943) was also a student of al-Amīn b. Alī al-Mazrū ī. After the death of his father, he taught at Gofu mosque (that had Traditions of reform, reforms of tradition 107 been financed by the Jamal al-Layl family) and took over the Ramadan classes at this mosque. In his teaching, he was supported by other scholars who were usually his own or his father’s students, such as Umar al-Khaīb (1876-1957; see below). He was also a teacher of Abdallāh āli al-Farsy, and became an influential teacher for many Zanzibaris. In addition, Abū Bakr Bā Kathīr established a class in a house in Kikwajuni/Ng’ambo as well as Ramadan classes in Jibrili mosque, where Qur ān, na w, fiqh, and lugha were taught. After Abū Bakr Bā Kathīr’s death in 1943, Muammad b. Umar al-Khaīb, who had married a daughter of Abdallāh Bā Kathīr, took over his house in Ukutani and transformed it into a waqf. He also took over the teaching at Gofu (Penrad 1998: 314ff.; al-Farsy 1972: 44, 46-8). Muammad b. Umar al-Khaīb (al-Khaāb, al-Khatibu; 1876-1957; see his picture on p. 139) was a student of Abdallāh Bā Kathīr since 1898 and accompanied Abdallāh Bā Kathīr on his journey to Cape Town in 1913/1914. He became Abdallāh Bā Kathīr’s assistant and married one of his daughters, took over many of his own functions such as īmām of witr and tarāwī prayers at Gofu. Muammad b. Umar al-Khaīb was in charge of this task until 1933, when Abdallāh āli al-Farsy took over from him. From 1919, Muammad b. Umar al-Khaīb was khaīb of the Malindi Friday mosque and a reciter (muqri ) of the Qur ān at Gofu until 1939, when Abdallāh āli al- Farsy took over from him in this function as well. Muammad b. Umar al-Khaīb had his own mosque and school in Kikwajuni (Ng’ambo), though, taken over from Muammad b. Abdallāh al-Hanzawanī in 1927, and he built another mosque in Kiembe Samaki (on the road to the airport), while he lived in Mkunazini. He was thus not confined to the old town of Zanzibar, but formed a link to Ng’ambo and shamba scholars (al-Farsy 1972: 38-9; IC73, 5.9.2002, IC26, 25.5.2004; Hamza Zubeir Rijaal in Maarifa, 4, 15.2.-14.3. 2002: Mjue Sheikh Muammad b. Umar wa Ukutani). Umar b. Amad b. Sumay (1886-1976; see his picture on p. 141) was born in Ngazija/Comoros, and lived in both the Comoros and Zanzibar. After the death of his father, he left Zanzibar, and returned to the Comoros, only to discover that his business in the Comoros had been ruined (Bang 2003: 194). He left the Comoros for Madagascar and settled in the northern harbour city of Diego Suarez, where he seems to have founded a school. After a stop-over in the Comoros, he returned to Zanzibar in 1936/7 at the invitation of Sulān Khalīfa b. ārub, to fill the position of district Qā ī in Mkokotoni, following 108 chapter three the death of Abd al-Raīm al-Wāshilī. In Zanzibar, he became a teacher of Abdallāh āli al-Farsy. In 1937, he was appointed Qā ī of Pemba, then Qā ī of Unguja in 1938, when āhir b. Abd al- Azīz al-Amawī died. He then became the Shāfi ī Chief Qā ī of Zanzibar from 1942 until 1959. Together with Sa īd b. Rashīd al-Ghaythī (B52), he approved the 1945 syllabus in religious studies (see chapter 6). After the revolution, he left Zanzibar on 25 April 1965 for Shir in the Hadramaut, and went back to the Comoros in 1967, where he was appointed Muftī. He died in 1976 and was buried in Itsandraa (see Rajab 2001; Bang 2003: 196; al-Farsy 1972: 35; IC26, 25.5.2004). Although he rarely spoke in public and although he did not write texts, he was popular and well known for his modesty and baraka (IC73, 18.3.2003). Despite the fact that the scholars mentioned above achieved and maintained a high standard of Islamic learning over three generations, from the late 1890s to the 1960s, Umar b. Sumay cultivated a rather pessimistic view of Islamic scholarship in his times. Thus, Umar b. Sumay mentioned to Joseph Schacht, who visited Zanzibar in 1953, that ‘Islamic education was in decay and Islamic scholarship had fallen on evil days. The last two great scholars of Zanzibar were Amad b. Sumay and Abdallāh Bā Kathīr. No ‘real’ scholars remained, there was no higher education in sharīa in Zanzibar, and only the former reputation of the place remained. The books of the scholars had gone back to Hadramaut, and there were no manuscripts left in Zanzibar’ (Schacht 1965: 116). With the revolution of 1964, a fourth generation of Alawī learning started in Zanzibar but collapsed due to the untimely death of a number of scholars and the emigration of many others (see chapter 9). At the same time, institutions of learning were gradually taken over by a new group of teachers trained in Saudi Arabia and later, the Sudan, even though some of these teachers were still linked to Alawī-families. The legacy of the third generation of Alawī learning, as well as that of the earlier scholars, can still be documented, however, in the history of the schools, madāris and mosques in the very heart of Zanzibar’s old city, which, due to the great number of schools and mosques, might be called the ‘learned heart of Zanzibar’ (see chapter 9 and the map in the appendix). The biographies of Amad b. Sumay, Abdallāh Bā Kathīr and Sayyid Manab show not only how deeply their families and those of their students were interrelated in both scholarly and personal Traditions of reform, reforms of tradition 109 terms (see Bang 2003: 101 for the marriage ties between the Sumay, Bā Kathīr and Jamal al-Layl families), but also how these networks extended from Istanbul via Cairo and the Hijaz to Cape Town in Southern Africa and from the central African trading centres on the Congo across the Indian Ocean to India and Indonesia. The networks of the Alawī families thus represent a significant ‘enlargement of scale’ on the East African Coast from the late 19th century onward (Bang 2003: 129). The spread of knowledge, news, and ideas as mediated by these scholarly networks did not pose a problem due the technological innovations of these times, such as the steam ship, the telegraph and the printing press. Pilgrims, travelling scholars and students from different regions formed, in Mecca, in the Hadramaut, in Zanzibar or in Cairo, networks of information, correspondence and scholarly relations that were so densely woven that it surpassed those of the colonial empires of the time (Reese 2004: 244ff).

3.4. The Salafiyya While the scholars of the Alawī traditions of learning opened up Islamic education and introduced a number of new disciplines into the canon of Islamic learning, they were also challenged by a new generation of scholars who saw Alawī scholarship, as well as Qādirī and Shādhilī traditions, as essentially incapable of providing answers for contemporary (colonial) times. These reformers triggered a new series of reforms which led, through a number of intermediate stages, to a qualitative change in the character of Islamic education in Zanzibar. As a result, Islamic scholarship in Zanzibar was no longer characterized by teacher personalities, and students were increasingly trained by institutions. This new movement of reform in East Africa was strongly influenced by the North African Salafiyya and its leading representative was al-Amīn b. Alī al-Mazrū ī (1891-1947; for his biography, see Elmasri and Salim in Constantin 1987). Al-Amīn b. Alī al-Mazrū ī was born in Mombasa and belonged to the Mazrū ī family that had dominated Mombasa’s history since 1737. In the context of his education, al-Amīn b. Alī al-Mazrū ī initially acquired strong connections with the teaching traditions of the Alawiyya: he studied under Amad b. Sumay, as well as with Abdallāh Bā Kathīr. From the 1920s, however, he became increas- 110 chapter three ingly influenced by the writings of the leading scholars of the Egyptian Salafiyya, in particular Muammad Abduh and his disciple Muam- mad Rashīd Ri ā. He also founded the first reformist journals of Eastern Africa: in 1930, al-Saheefa, and in 1932, al-Ilā (al-Farsy 1972: 42/3). And although al-Ilā appeared for one year only, it presented at this period of time an array of discussions of reform issues. Despite his sympathies towards Salafī thought, al-Amīn b. Alī al-Mazrū ī remained closely linked with Alawī traditions of learning. From 1932, he taught at the Ghazzali Muslim School in Mombasa, established by Muammad al-Ghazzālī who was a leading scholar of the Alawiyya in Mombasa (IC28, 10.9.2008). In addition to his activities as a teacher, Shaykh al-Amīn wrote a school textbook for children titled hidāyat al-afāl, which was adopted by Zanzibar’s government schools for the teaching of ‘Islamics’ (see chapter 6). The career of Shaykh al-Amīn was crowned by his appointment to the office of Chief Qā ī of Kenya in 1937. Shaykh al-Amīn thus continued the tradition of Alawī and Qādirī scholars in East Africa who worked with the colonial powers in order to achieve better conditions for reform of their respective societies. As a teacher, al-Amīn b. Alī al-Mazrū ī taught, amongst others, Abdallāh āli al-Farsy, the Chief Qā ī of Kenya from 1968-1981, and his own son, Muammad Qāsim al-Mazrū ī, who acted as Chief Qā ī of Kenya until 30 April 1968, when he was succeeded by Abdallāh āli al-Farsy (see below; al-Farsy 1972: 42ff). In addition to his efforts to develop modern forms of Islamic education, Shaykh al-Amīn criticized not only the mission schools but also the Qur ānic schools that were, according to him, unable to confront the challenges of modern times; also, he criticized habits of conspicuous consumption and other features of Muslim social life as bida. In particular, he attacked the translation of the Qur ān by the Indian Amadiyya movement that developed in East Africa in the 1930s. Shaykh al-Amīn tried to respond to this translation of the Qur ān with a translation of his own, but by his death in 1947 he had managed only to translate the first sūra and the juz amma, the first ‘chapter’ of the Qur ān in the sequence of memorization (see chapter 4). However, his endeavours were taken up and concluded by his disciple Abdallāh āli al-Farsy (see Lacunza Balda 1989: 64 and chapter 7). The biography of Shaykh al-Amīn shows how East African scholarly traditions that had so far been oriented towards the Traditions of reform, reforms of tradition 111

Hadramaut, experienced a process of re-orientation in the colonial period that linked them with the broader world of Islamic intellectual debates in the 20th century. As a consequence, the debates led by the Egyptian and Syrian reformers, especially in the journal al-Manār, were taken up by a number of scholars in East Africa, such as Amad b. Alī Manab (see above). It is important to note here, though, that even if Shaykh al-Amīn was the most prominent representative of the Salafiyya movement in East Africa, he was not the first scholar with contacts to Salafi thought. In the context of their respective journeys to Egypt, both Amad b. Sumay and Amad b. Muammad ‘al-Mlomry’ (B127; see his picture on p. 140) had already come into contact with the ideas of the Salafiyya, and in particular those of Muammad Abduh. Amad b. Muammad ‘al-Mlomry’ had actually attended lectures by Muammad Abduh (al-Farsy 1972: 37). Equally, the writings of Muammad Abduh and Muammad Rashīd Ri ā, as well as their journal al-Manār, had spread to East Africa by the early 20th century and were locally read, as the case of Amad b. Alī Manab or Muammad b. Muammad Bā Qashmar has shown. Despite being familiar with Salafī thought, Amad b. Sumay, Amad b. Muammad ‘al-Mlomry’, Amad b. Alī Manab and others did not become Salafī reformers or founders of a school of Salafī thought. This was left to Shaykh al-Amīn in East Africa and to Abdallāh āli al-Farsy in Zanzibar (IC73, 22.8.2002). However, a first Salafi-oriented reformist organization, the izb al-Ilā , had been established in 1910 by Nāir b. Sālim al-Rawwāī (B147) and Nāir b. Sulaymān al-Lamkī, who edited a thrice-monthly paper in Arabic titled al-Najā (progress) from 1911-1914 (Bang 2003: 136). Equally, Sālim b. Sa īd b. Sayf al-Shuhaybī (B169) set up another reformist organization called al-Jamīat al-Islāmiyya in 1922 (al-Farsy 1972: 40). Yet, these reformist organizations did not gain a larger audience and remained confined, for the time being, to a small intellectual and arabophone elite. Abdallāh āli al-Farsy (1912-82) should thus be mentioned before all others in connection with the development of the East African Salafiyya after Shaykh al-Amīn. As he was of major importance for the development of Islamic education in Zanzibar, he will be discussed in detail in chapter 7. Abdallāh āli al-Farsy was of particular importance for the development of Islamic reform in East Africa due to his translation of the Qur ān, a task that had been started by Shaykh al-Amīn, 112 chapter three although Shaykh al-Amīn had still opposed translations (see Lacunza Balda 1989: 216): ‘Arabic is the language of the text of the Qur ān and learning Arabic is an obligation for every Muslim, men and women alike’ (Kiarabu ni lugha ya kurani nasi: kujifunza kiarabu ni wajibu juu ya kila muislamu mume na mke). With respect to the issue of translations, Abdallāh āli al-Farsy developed a position that was different to Shaykh al-Amīn’s by arguing that ‘Islam does not want colonialism in religion, Arabic is not at all necessary’ (Uislamu hautaki istiimari wa dini, si lazima lugha ya Kiarabu) (Lacunza Balda 1989: 217). At the same time, Abdallāh āli al-Farsy also rejected ‘sharīfian’ Islam: ‘It is not necessary to follow a shaykh or a sharīf’ (Si lazima afuate Shehe au Sharifu, Lacunza Balda 1989: 220). With the translation of the Qur ān into Kiswahili and the opening of the text for all Muslims, in particular those who could not read Arabic, old scholars lost their monopoly of interpretation and their exclusive social role as religious experts and mediators of religious knowledge. Now, everyone could claim to be a ‘shaykh’: ‘These days, everyone is a scholar, everyone is a shaykh’ (Siku hizi, kila mtu ni mwanachuoni, kila mtu ni sheikh), as the Kenyan scholar Abdilahi Nassir (b. 1932) has put it (Kresse 2007b: 240). Disputes concerning the translation of the Qur ān started quite early on in East Africa: in 1923, a first translation into Kiswahili appeared under the title ‘Tafsiri ya Kurani ya Kiarabu kwa lugha ya Kiswahili’, being the work of a British missionary, Canon Godfrey Dale of the UMCA, who lived in Zanzibar from 1889-1925. The chief purpose of this translation was to help missionaries, teachers and Christians to ‘understand Islam’. Muslims quickly rejected this text, and disputes between Muslims and Christians in Tanzania on the issue of this translation occurred as late as 1992 and 1993 (see Lacunza Balda 1997: 99; Mbogoni 2004: 87). Christian translations of the Qur ān (in contrast to Amadī translations of the Qur ān) were not seen as ‘proper’ translations by many Muslims, since Christian translations, such as the Dale translation, usually failed to include the Arabic text (Lacunza Balda 1989: 53). In addition, translations into Kiswahili, as undertaken by ‘mainlanders’, were often considered in Zanzibar as being biased, due to Christian missionary influences on Kiswahili and the practice of writing Kiswahili in the Latin script, as developed in mainland Tanganyika (IC82, 18.6.2004). Another major reason for the rejection of the Dale translation may Traditions of reform, reforms of tradition 113 have been the fact that Canon Dale had written a number of other texts in Kiswahili such as Maisha ya Muhammad (The Life of Mu am mad) and Khabari za dini ya Kiislamu kwa mukhtasari pamoja na maelezo ya ikhtilafu zilizopo kati ya dini ya Kiislamu na ya Kikristo (Summary of the religion of Islam with an explanation of the differences between Islam and Christianity), a text that sought to provide Christian teachers of religion with arguments against Islam as well as against the Muslim critique of Christian theological concepts such as the idea of the trinity (Mbogoni 2004: 73-81). As a consequence, Dale’s work was seen by Muslims as a polemic against Islam and his translation of the Qur ān was seen as forming part of such a polemic. Yet the next translation of the Qur ān, which originated from within the Amadiyya movement, did not gain greater acceptance. This translation, titled Kurani Tukufu, was undertaken by Mubārak Amad Amadī, starting in 1936. He was the ra īs al-tablīgh, the leader of the mission activities of the Amadiyya in East Africa and had completed the transcript by 1942. After some amendments, the text was published in 1953. The Amadiyya translation took the Dale translation into account, but criticized it (wrongly), because ‘Dale knew no Arabic’ (Lacunza Balda 1989: 58). With its own translation of the Qur ān, the Amadiyya wanted to fight against the increasing success of the Christian missions. The movement was regarded by most Muslims as a heretical movement, due to both its unorthodox teachings and the claims of its founder, Mirzā Ghulām Amad, to be a reincarnation of the Prophet Muammad. Consequently, its translation of the Qur ān did not find broad support in East Africa. Finally, a third translation of the Qur ān into Kiswahili was started by al-Amīn b. Alī al-Mazrū ī, as mentioned above, as a conscious reaction to the Amadī translation. However, Shaykh al-Amīn managed to translate only a small part of the Qur ān before his death in 1947, and his work had to be carried on by his student Abdallāh āli al-Farsy. His work, as based on the tafsīr al-jalālayn, was published in Mwongozi, until he was able to present the whole text under the title Qurani Takatifu in Kenya in 1969 (Glassman 2000a: 410; see chapter 7). The introduction to editions 2-7 of Qurani Takatifu was written by Abū l-A lā Maudūdī, a friend of al-Farsy and the founder and leader of the Pakistani reform movement Jamāat al-Islām. He had started the campaign against the Amadiyya 114 chapter three

movement and had managed, in the 1970s, to get the Amadiyya declared a non-Islamic sect in Pakistan (Bakari 1989: 5).8 Whereas Islamic religious scholars and representatives of older traditions of reform, such as Shaykh Uways, Amad b. Sumay or Abdallāh Bā Kathīr, had limited their reformist efforts to the sphere of ritual and education, Salafi-oriented reformers such as al-Amīn b. Alī al-Mazrū ī and Abdallāh āli al-Farsy represented a new type of Islamic scholarship, in which education was no longer seen as a process of social initiation of children into the world of adults, but as a way to acquire ‘marketable skills’ (Launay 1992: 94). The new type of Islamic scholarship mirrors the emergence of a new tradition of reform. It is possible today to identify three stages of Salafī- oriented reform that were linked with respective generations of reformers. The changing, even oscillating, markers of reform may be seen as a major feature of reform: reform adapts to changing times and local conditions and tries to negotiate its social influence and impact on Muslim societies anew in each generation. A first generation of reformers who could be said to be closely linked with Salafī- oriented ideas of reform was represented by scholars such as Shaykh al-Amīn or Abdallāh āli al-Farsy. This generation of reformers saw the heyday of colonialism and reacted strongly against a number of ‘exaggerations’ of Sufism, in particular with respect to ritual. While attacking some aspects of the Sufi ritual, reformers like Shaykh al-Amīn or Abdallāh āli al-Farsy had close links with contemporary reformers associated with the Alawiyya, such as Amad b. āmid Manab, Sayyid Umar Abdallāh or Umar b. Sumay, and in fact often shared their preoccupations regarding the path of Islamic education. Reformers of this generation stressed the importance of modern Islamic education and were directly linked with the intellectual debates in Egypt. At the same time, reformers of this generation, like many Alawī scholars, developed a rather accommodating attitude towards the (post)colonial state: Like their Alawī

8 Al-Farsy’s translation was financed by the Kuwaiti ministry for religious foundations and religious affairs, the wizārat al-awqāf wa-l-shu ūn al-dīniyya (Lacunza Balda 1993b: 234), as well as donations from the Emir of Qatar, Amad b. Alī al-Thānī, the Islamic Foundation, and the Jamāat al-Islām, and was finally published by the Islamic Foundation in Nairobi (Rajab 2001). To date, Kurani Takatifu has seen seven reprints ranging from 5,000 copies (1971) to 36,000 copies (1984), with a total of more than 108,000 copies (Lacunza Balda 1989: 104). A fourth translation of the Qur ān was published by Alī Musin al-Barwānī (1995) titled Qur ani Tukufu. Traditions of reform, reforms of tradition 115 contemporaries, they were still mediators of knowledge, even if concepts of knowledge had gradually changed. This generation of reformers dominated Muslim discourses in East Africa for about forty years, from the 1930s to the 1970s. Since the 1970s, a second generation of Muslim reformers and intellectuals has developed in both Tanzania and Kenya, often from the circle of disciples around Abdallāh āli al-Farsy. A number of his students in fact continued their education at Western as well as modern Arabic universities, such as the Islamic University of Medina (Bakari 1989: 6). After their return to East Africa, these students formed a group of Muslim intellectuals and activists that did not see themselves as ulamā any more, as religious scholars in the established sense of the word, but as ‘professors’, asātidha (sg. ustādh). Those ‘professors’ had no intention of devoting their time to really teaching their students in the Islamic sciences and to mediate knowledge. Rather, they understood themselves as propagandists of an essentially political message. Muslim activist reformers in the guise of political propagandists have indeed come to influence the Islamic public sphere in Zanzibar in spectacular ways in recent years, for instance by intensifying their critique of the post-colonial state and by adopting increasingly militant forms of action that included opposition to state bodies. Members of this third generation, both in Zanzibar and on the Tanzanian mainland, were Saidi Musa, Muammad Mansab, Nassor Bachu, Shaykh Kondo, Saloum Msabbah, Ally Bassaleh, ‘Ustādh’ Jamal, ‘Ustādh’ Othman ‘Mu allim’, Farid Hadi Ahmad and Azzan Khalid Hamdan, as well as Khamisi Ja far (see below). Among the students of al-Farsy, both in Zanzibar and in Kenya, Saidi Musa (see B138) must be mentioned in particular. In his preaching activities, Saidi Musa adopted Abdallāh āli al-Farsy’s ideas with respect to languages and stressed the importance of Kiswahili: ‘Things are now easy, not like in the past when lessons on religion were in Arabic without Kiswahili. Now religious lessons are in Kiswahili’ (Mambo sasa yamekawa mepesi siyo kama zamani masomo ya dini yalivyokuwa kwa Kiarabu bila Kiswahili. Sasa masomo ya dini kwa Kiswahili, quoted in: Lacunza Balda 1989: 218). This position has gained widespread acceptance. As a result, Mus lim religious literature in Kiswahili has exploded as have trans lations from Arabic into Kiswahili, often through Indian 116 chapter three

organizations. 9 The second generation of reformers can thus be regarded as disciples and students of the ‘founding fathers’ of Salafi reform in East Africa who adopted more radical positions on a number of issues, for instance in their opposition to Sufism. The reformers of this second generation of Salafiyya reformers were also more active in political terms. In contrast to the first generation of reformers, they cultivated oppositional positions towards the post-colonial state and were also characterized by new regional orientations towards Iran and Saudi Arabia. An important feature of this new generation of activist reformers was that they started to establish new organizations such as Uamsho and directed their attention away from attacks on Sufi scholars (though not completely), and towards attacks against the state and the alleged threat of Christian missions, especially the Pentecostal churches. This generation of reformers has dominated the public discourse in East Africa for the last thirty years, but is about to be replaced by a generation of young and angry Muslims, who may become even more radical than their predecessors. In Zanzibar, by contrast, Muslim reformers have been in a slightly different position in recent decades, due to the impact of the revolution in 1964.

3.5. ‘Medina Graduates’ and ‘watu wa bidaa’ While colonial times in Zanzibar were characterized, at least until 1954, by relatively harmonious cooperation between the British administration and local (religious) elites, the zama za siasa after 1954 and the revolution of 1964, in particular, brought about a total change in the relationship between the rulers and the ulamā . The Suez Canal crisis in 1956, amongst others, triggered a wave of pro- Egyptian sympathies and pre-independence nationalism that led to a phase of disenchantment between British colonial administration and religio-political elites. After 1964, the ulamā even experienced what has been described by David Crecelius as an ‘expulsion from Olympus’ (Crecelius 1978: 180). The ulamā were seen as being part of a political and religious establishment that had to be crushed (see

9 Gerard van de Bruinhorst has been able to show on the basis of an inventory of thirty Islamic bookshops in ten urban centres in Tanzania and a list of 1,200 titles, that 50% of all texts were published in Kiswahili, while Arabic had fallen back to a percentage of 30%. Rather astonishing was the fact that English texts have gained a 20% share of the Muslim book market (van de Bruinhorst 2001: 6). Traditions of reform, reforms of tradition 117 chapter 9). At the same time, the new socialist government of Abeid Amani Karume, which had come to power in 1964, adopted colonial approaches and developed similar discourses with respect to ‘popular culture’ and ‘popular religion’, which acquired, in addition, a rather moralistic undertone: thus, Karume was ‘not content with telling people where they were to live (the Michenzani flats in Ng’ambo), he also decreed as to how they were to live’, while offenders were tried in the People’s Court (Martin 1978: 67). The major difference between colonial times and revolutionary Zanzibar was that the British administration had cooperated closely with the local elite as well as the scholarly establishment, in order to fight against specific aspects of ‘popular religion’ (see Loimeier 2006d), while revolutionary governments after 1964 more or less rejected such cooperation. Karume’s campaigns against ‘popular culture’ and ‘religious superstition’ were enforced without the support of the scholarly establishment, which was seen by Karume as a lingering threat to his position of power. The campaigns against ‘popular culture’ and ‘popular religion’ were even directed, in many cases, against the religious establishment which consisted of scholars of mostly Hadrami and Comorian origin. This establishment gradually disintegrated after 1964 and had been practically smashed by 1970 (see chapter 9). After having successfully marginalized, expulsed or forced into emigration the existing networks of scholars, in particular, the influential Alawī scholars, Karume was quite willing to tolerate some form of Islamic education and some forms of religious activity, at least as long as they took place under state control. In 1967, the same year in which Abdallāh āli al-Farsy, one of the last prominent religious scholars, left Zanzibar for Kenya, the Karume government allowed the grandson of a well-known scholar, Abdallāh b. Abī Bakr Bā Kathīr alias ‘Mu allim’ Bā Kathīr, who had returned from his studies at the Islamic University in Medina, to take over the Qur ānic class in his father’s and grandfather’s house in Ukutani, as well as the school linked to that house, the Madrasat Bā Kathīr (see chapter 9). And in 1969, some teachers of the defunct Muslim Academy, which had been closed by the revolutionary government in 1965, started to discuss the possibility of reopening the Muslim Academy under a new name, Chuo Cha Kiislamu (‘Islamic School’; see chapter 8). After Karume’s assassination, Aboud Jumbe (1972-1984) continued the policy of rebuilding Islamic education, even though the socialist convictions of the Zanzibari government did not radically 118 chapter three change even after 1972. As a consequence, Islamic education was gradually revived and the Chuo Cha Kiislamu was allowed to expand until it was closed down again in 2007, under Zanzibar’s sixth post-revolutionary President, Amani Abeid Karume. Despite the reopening of the Muslim Academy in 1972, the revolutionary regime was still committed to a socialist discourse and did not accept a revival of the old Alawī networks of scholars, a policy that was continued by Aboud Jumbe’s successors, Ali Hassan Mwinyi (1984-1985), Abdul Wakil (1985-1990), Salmin Amour (1990-2000) and, from 2000, Amani Abeid Karume. The revolutionary government committed itself to a reformist programme of Islamic education which, after 1972, was based for some time on teachers recruited in Egypt and Sudan. These teachers trained a new generation of Muslim scholars at the Chuo Cha Kiislamu who were committed to neo-Salafī ideas of reform. In addition to importing new ‘reformist’ scholars from outside, the revolutionary government promoted some non- descript and obliging washamba (rural) scholars such as Fatawi Issa (d. 1987), who had been rather marginal in colonial times (al-Farsy 1972: 65). Formal positions in schools (religious education), administration (Waqf Commission) and courts were consequently filled with graduates of the Islamic University of Medina, the Africa International University in Khartoum or the Chuo Cha Kiislamu who depended on government positions and legitimized any government decision, even highly unpopular ones such as the institution of the office of the Muftī in 2001: These Muslim functionaries were hardly mediators of knowledge any more, but executors of state policies. From 1976, Zanzibari students were sent to the centres of modern Islamic education in Saudi Arabia (mostly the Islamic University of Medina, est. 1961), some few to the Imām Mu ammad b. Saūd Islamic University Riyā (est. 1974), and some to the Umm al-Qurā University in Mecca which has become an ‘Islamic model university’ (Hefner/Zaman 2007: 253). Students were also sent to the Sudan (Universities of Khartoum and Omdurman) and Egypt (al-Azhar), some to Malaysia, Kuwait, Iraq, Libya and Turkey, where they had to chance to study at universities that were organized along Islamic University of Medina lines (see chapter 9). As the number of graduates from the Islamic University of Medina in leading administrative positions is particularly high, in comparison at least to the number of those who have been trained in other Muslim countries, I call this Traditions of reform, reforms of tradition 119 group of Muslim reformers the ‘Medina graduates’.10 In 2004, there were about twenty graduates from Medina in high or intermediate government posts in Zanzibar (IC80, 20.4.2004). These graduates complement another influential group in Zanzibar’s administration, the ‘Makunduchi’ group, representing the ‘Hadimu fringe’ of southern Unguja, which has consistently supported the ASP/CCM since the revolution. In many cases, ‘Makunduchi’ origin and University of Medina-type education are identical. Today, graduates from the Islamic University of Medina and related universities have taken over not only the Chuo Cha Kiislamu but also the majority of positions in the spheres of jurisdiction (the office of the Chief Qā ī and the District Qā īs, the Waqf and Trust Commission and the office of the Muftī), in formal government education (secondary and primary schools), Zanzibar University as well as the recently established State University of Zanzibar (SUZA), or the College of Education (Kulliyat al-Tarbiya al-Jamiyya) that was established in 1998 in Chukwani, as well as in some madāris such as the Madrasat al-Nūr and the Madrasat Ameiriyya. As a result, reformist scholars dominate not only government schools such as the Chuo Cha Kiislamu but also control many mosques and some important Qur ānic schools in Zanzibar. In the following paragraphs, the most important institutional strongholds of the ‘Medina graduates’ network will be presented,11 before I focus, in the second part of this section, on the emergence of the Islamic opposition movement in Zanzibar. I. A major institution controlled by Muslim functionaries producing Muslim functionaries was the Muslim Academy (see chapter 8) and the post-1972 Chuo Cha Kiislamu (CCK). Shaykh Sulayman, a respected teacher at the Madrasat Amīriyya attended this school as well as its famous director, Ameir Tajo (‘Mkubwa’; B174; IC72, 16.7.2002). Harith b. Khelef al-Ghaythi, the present Muftī, Musa Makungu, the former Chief Qā ī, as

10 Zanzibar Muslim students were often close to Salafī ideas of reform but did not necessarily sympathize with the Saudi Arabian Wahhābiyya. Many African Muslims who studied in Saudi Arabia did in fact not become Wahhābī but were appalled by many aspects of life in Saudi Arabia, such as Saudi racism toward Africans and the hypocrisy of Saudi lifestyles (outwardly religious, inwardly Western and materialistic) (IC72, 31.8.2002). 11 Data on these institutions and the ‘Medina graduates’ network were obtained from communications with local scholars, in particular, IC3, 30.7.2002, 28.8.2002 and 14.7.2004; IC21, 1.9.2002, IC46, 20.8. and 28.8.2002; IC52, 31.8.2002, IC27, 7.8.2002, IC92 and IC80, 2.9.2002, and IC72, 16.7.2002. 120 chapter three

well as his successor as Chief Qā ī, Ali Khatib Mranzi (d. 2008) have all been teachers and students at the Muslim Academy or the Chuo Cha Kiislamu. The same applies to the director of the Waqf Commission, Khamis A. Khamis, and most functionaries working at the Waqf Commission, such as Khalid Muhammad, the interim director of the Madrasat al-Nūr in 2002, as well as a considerable number of teachers at Zanzibar’s government schools (IC72, 16.7.2002). Yet, while the old Muslim Academy had considerable social and religious influence in Zanzibar in the 1950s, the Chuo Cha Kiislamu has not lived up to this role and has essentially remained a government secondary school with a focus on ‘Islamics’. Still, the Chuo Cha Kiislamu has produced many graduates and they occupy important posts both in Zanzibar and outside Zanzibar. In the 1970s and 1980s, a considerable number of teachers at institutions of education such as the State University of Zanzibar had studied at the Chuo Cha Kiislamu, then went to the Sudan to study at the Africa International University, and eventually returned to Zanzibar to take up positions, for instance at the Chuo Cha Kiislamu (IC27, 7.8.2002). II. Another major Islamic institution was the Waqf and Trust Commission (kamisheni ya wakf na mali ya amani) which was also controlled by ‘Medina graduates’. In colonial times, a first Waqf Commission had been established in 1905 and came under an ‘administrator general’ in 1916 (see Oberauer 2008). After the revolution, it was re-established by decree 5/1990 and was put under the supervision of the Muftī’s office in 2002 (IC80, 22.5.2007). So far, the Waqf Commission has been in charge of religious matters such as mosques and madāris, Islamic festivals such as the īd-days and mawlid celebrations, inheritance matters (mīrāth), the pilgrimage, waqf matters as such, Friday sermons, the proclamation of Ramadan and religious statistics, on mosques and madāris, for instance. Government efforts to control religious affairs have in fact been relying on statistical evidence from the Waqf Commission (Ziddy 2004: 6 and IC3, 14.7.2004).12 In 2001, Shaykh Khamis A. Khamis, a former director of the Chuo Cha Kiislamu, who had studied in Medina,

12 In 1999, Unguja had 1018 mosques, while Pemba had 719. For 2000, these numbers were put at 769 mosques for Pemba and 860 for Unguja (a total number of 1629; Ziddy 2004: 6 and IC3, 14.7.2004). Traditions of reform, reforms of tradition 121

was appointed director (executive secretary). In 2002, the Waqf Commission had six departments: administration, accounts, waqf, mīrāth (Khalid Muhammad), shu ūn al-dīniyya (Islamic affairs, Abdallah Talib and Ismail al-Zahir) and international relations; in addition, there was a lawyer. All leading employees of the Waqf Commission have been to the Islamic University of Medina. III. The office of the Muftī (dār al-iftā ) in Kilimani was created by Act 9/2001 but has remained controversial ever since, being viewed by many Zanzibaris as a ‘political’ institution (IC3, 21.7.2003; IC80, 22.5.2007). The office of the Muftī constituted a disputed institution as it was held responsible for the imposition of government control over Muslim religious and social life. Thus, the Muftī’s office not only assumed, in 2002, the task of sighting the moon (see below), but also took over waqf, mosque and school statistics, a central tool for establishing bureaucratic control (IC52, 31.8.2002). The office of the Muftī of Zanzibar was created to ‘relieve the Chief Qā ī from conducting religious matters’ (Hashim 2005: 38). Religious matters del- egated to the Mufti were, amongst others, ‘to give fatwā on any issue raised by the public…, to settle any religious dispute aris- ing among Muslims; to coordinate and announce the sighting of a new moon; to summon any person or body of persons for the purpose of settling of any religious dispute…; to give orders, directives or conditions on any matter under his jurisdiction’ (Hashim 2005: 39). Effectively, the Muftī came to be in charge of mosques, Islamic ‘holidays’, Qur ānic schools, rallies and other issues which had been administrated previously by the Waqf Commission. At the same time, the Muftī was supposed to mediate in conflicts among Muslims that often enough arose from government policies (IC3 and IC46, both 28.8.2002; see below). Zanzibar’s first post-independence Muftī was Harith b. Khelef al-Ghaythi (B53), his deputy being Saleh Umar Kaabi. IV. The Chief Court (Korti Kuu, maktab qā ī al-qu āt) was another administrative institution that was essentially in charge of the administration of Islamic ‘personal status law’ and was presided over by the Chief Qā ī.13 Musa Makungu (1920-2007), the Chief

13 The ‘Korti Kuu’ also registered conversions to Islam: in Unguja, for instance, 148 in 2000, 159 in 2001, and 115 in 2002. 122 chapter three

Qā ī until 2006, was the first director of the Chuo Cha Kiislamu. His successor, Ali Khatib Mranzi (1930-2008), also attended the CCK and was a teacher there from 1972 until the late 1980s. His deputy, Shamim Khamis Mchano, was also a director of the CCK. V. The imāms were organized in the Jumuiya ya Maimamu Zanzibar (JUMAZA, Jamīyat Majlis al-A ima bi-Zinjibār), a semi-governmental organization, and in the Jamīyat Majlis al-Masājid (Council of Mosques). Imāms were nominated by their community, although in recent years, the state has nominated the imāms of two major Friday mosques, Raha Leo and Malindi. In cases of conflict, the state interfered directly: Imāms were ‘invited’ to have a talk with security institutions. In recent years, some imāms preached, for instance, that it was incumbent upon Muslims to obey only virtuous leaders and that it was an obligation upon the true believer to fight tyrannical leaders. Imāms in some mosques even challenged the tradition of asking for Allāh’s blessings on the president in Friday prayers, an event which led the government to threaten the closure of all mosques that failed to mention the name of the president (Bakari 2001: 92/147). After riots in 2001, when protest against CCM politics had been voiced in a number of mosques, some imāms were ‘convocated’ and subsequently ‘cooled down’ (IC19, 15.7.2002). As the government has consistently tried to control religious organizations through the office of the Muftī, the Chief Qā ī and the Waqf and Trust Commission, mosques have often become venues for political protest (Bakari 2001: 91). VI. Institutions of higher learning also turned out to be major places of employment for Zanzibaris who had studied in Arab countries, although these institutions of higher learning still employ a number of expatriate teachers, often from Sudan, Egypt, Yemen, Pakistan and India. The three most important institutions in this respect were Zanzibar University in Tunguu (est. in 1998), which in 2003 had a Sudanese Vice-Chancellor who had studied at Bayero University Kano (BUK, Nigeria) from 1978-88; secondly, the College of Education in Chukwani (est. April 1998) and the State University of Zanzibar (est. 2002; for all of these, see chapter 9). Among these institutions of higher learning, the College of Education has so far attracted most students and teachers. Many teachers at the College of Education Traditions of reform, reforms of tradition 123

including the Dean, Muhammad Salim, a Sudanese, were from Sudan, Egypt, Pakistan and India or Algeria, while a few, such as Muhammad Rajab, the assistant registrar, or Ameir H. Ameir, the managing director of the printing press, were Zanzibaris (IC3, 6.8.2002 and IC72 6.8.2002; visits on 6.8. and 13.8.2002). VII. Non-Governmental Organizations (NGO’s) were another important field for social, religious, economic and political competition and positioning. Since 1980, the number of Islamic NGO’s has exploded in Tanzania from three in 1980 to 27 in 2000 (Saleh 2002: 11). Apart from those that represented specific religious communities, such as the Jamāat al-Tablīgh led by Rashid Khalfan (see Constantin 1995, Lacunza-Balda 1997 and Grandin 1998), and some shī ī organizations, in particular the Aga Khan Foundation (see chapter 9), the most important of these organizations were the Munaamat al-Dawa al-Islāmiyya, a Sudan-based organization, active in education; the Jamaiyyat al-Ifrīqiyya li-Raāyā al-afūla wa-l-Umūma (Sudan), which supported children and mothers; the Dār al-Īmān, a Saudi organization, that supported Zanzibar University; the Jamiyyat al-Yūsif al-Khayriyya, an NGO established by a Saudi businessman, who happened to be a friend of Mu allim Bā Kathīr, which supported the Chuo Cha Kiislamu;14 the Jamiyyat al-Istiqāma, an Ibā ī organization which supported madāris; the Jamiyyat I yā al-Turāth wa-l-Bu ūth al-Islāmī for research and awqāf, that was also supported by non-Islamic countries; the Jamiyyat Muzdalifa al-Khayriyya; the Jamiyyat al-Yaqza dhidd al-Tansīr; and the Jamiyyat Tanmiya al-Taallum wa-l-Iqtiād ainda al-Muslimīn (see Ziddy 2003). Apart from the Aga Khan Foundation, Zanzibar’s largest and most important contemporary NGO, at least in the sphere of education, was the Africa Muslim Agency (AMA, Lajna Muslima Ifrīqiyya). AMA has tried to present itself as a ‘humanitarian, non-governmental organization’. It was actually established in the early 1980s in Kuwait and was funded by Kuwait, although its headquarters were based in the Sudan. AMA stressed its policy of not interfering with

14 TheJamiyyat al-Yūsif al-Khayriyya owned a large house and property on the airport road and has recently claimed land close to the CCK, but has also donated money to other Zanzibari institutions or financed, for instance, the traffic lights in Malindi (IC3, 14.8.2004; IC71, 3.8.2004; Zanzibar Leo, 919, 24.7.2004: ‘al-Youseif yakapiga jeki chuo cha kiislam’). 124 chapter three

local politics and cooperating with local administrations (IC27, 7.8.2002). Kuwait thus became another local player in Zanzibar, apart from Saudi Arabia, Oman, Egypt, Pakistan, Iran and Sudan. AMA started to work in Zanzibar in 1998,15 and first gave grants to Zanzibari students for studies abroad. In particular, AMA financed the College of Education that was connected to the Jamiyyat Ifrīqiyya al-Ālamiyya fī-l-Khartūm (Africa International University) as a faculty. AMA also paid the salaries of more than eight professors at this university (Ziddy 2002b: 16). In 2003, the Zanzibar headquarters of AMA was situated in the Mwanakwerekwe area in Ng’ambo and was directed by Ahmad Talib and Abdallah Nagy, both Moroccans. In Zanzibar, apart from the College of Education, AMA supported other madāris, health centres and mosques, and gave grants (personal visit, 6.8.2003; for AMA in general, see Sadouni 2002: 107 and Morier-Genoud 2002: 134; for AMA in Zanzibar, see Penrad 2003: 332/3; Ziddy 2003).

A new generation of Muslim scholars has thus filled the vacuum created by the exodus of most Hadrami, Omani and Comorian scholarly families, and the institutional marginalization of the Alawī tradition of learning. The new scholars and the traditions of teaching they represent were no longer defined by charismatic teacher personalities but by institutional affiliation. In addition, the new scholars were often dependent on the state: they were state-employedulamā , Muslim functionaries, who worked within the confines of state bureaucracies and legitimized the policies of the state. While the institutions, organizations and associations mentioned above essentially represented ‘government (official) Islam’ and were controlled by Muslim functionaries, a number of new groups and organizations have developed since the early 1980s, which have escaped government control and may be said to represent a second generation of Salafī-oriented reformers in Zanzibar, mostly activist

15 AMA started its activities in Africa in Malawi (1981), as a basis for Islamic dawa in Southern Africa, at the invitation of the Southern Africa Islamic Youth Con- ference (SAIYC) which was supported by Kuwait. As a result, a firstIslamic Africa Committee was created and then transformed into the Africa Muslim Agency. After Malawi, other African countries such as Mozambique followed suit and became target countries for AMA. Traditions of reform, reforms of tradition 125

Muslims who have become increasingly influential due to their outspoken opposition to government policies when, in the mid-1980s, the CCM stopped enforcing rigid Karume decrees on public morality in order to boost tourism and economic liberalization. From the early 1980s, new Muslim movements of reform thus started to develop in Zanzibar and became particularly active in dawa, the construction of mosques and the mobilization of Muslim women, as expressed in the spread of the ijāb or even the niqāb, the full veil. The move toward the niqāb, which started in the 1980s, became even more marked in the 1990s and early 2000s.16 Since the early 1980s, Muslim activist groups such as Uamsho have also more or less adopted Abeid Amani Karume’s struggle against religious superstitions by attacking all kind of local religious traditions as un-Islamic innovations, bida. Since this time, Muslim activists have been fighting a ‘war of symbols’ against a number of religious traditions, including conspicuous spending for festivities such as the īd-festivals, the dhikr of the Sufi brotherhoods and the mawlid celebrations. Other traditions that were rejected by Muslim activist groups were a large array of local socio-religious practices such as uganga (healing with plants),17 kupunga pepo (ghost exorcism), kuoandisha mashetani (devil exorcism), kuchuchia kichwani (ghost talking, uchawi), falaki/ilm za nyota (astrology), ilm za basit al-hurufi(numerology), kupiga ramli (sand oracle), kuzingua uchawi (white magic), kisomo (ritual reading

16 As a matter of fact, the number of women donning the full veil, the niqāb, has been consistently growing over the past few years. This growth may point to a corresponding increase in strength of the radical wing of the Anār al-Sunna. However, the movement towards the full veil should not be over-interpreted as women have also adopted the niqāb for non-religious reasons (for the dynamics of ‘veiling-up’ and ‘veiling-down’, see Herrera 2000: 1/32 and Loimeier 2008b). 17 Nisula has stressed that uganga has never been separate from the cosmos of Islamic sciences: Rather, uganga ceremonies that addressed Muslim spirits have remained widespread and these ceremonies are characterized by recitation of the Qur ān or of qaā id, or by the performance of dhikr. A dhikr may thus be an essential part of uganga ceremonies (Nisula 1999: 107) and although ‘pious men’ would publicly condemn such superstitions they would not object if their wives attended such ceremonies (Nisula 1999: 163). During research trips to Zanzibar in 2004 and 2007, I was able to witness uganga ceremonies involving recitation of the Qur ān (kisomo) by young Muslim scholars who had been trained at the Chuo Cha Kiislamu and clearly belonged to the spectrum of the watu wa bidaa (see below). This can be seen as an effort by watu wa bidaa groups to acquire more social integration and increase popular support. This also signals change with respect to the mid-1990s, when Purpura could still claim that watu wa bidaa would reject the practice of kisomo (Purpura 1997: 33). 126 chapter three of the Qur ān), kombe (the drinking of ink of ‘magical’ Qur ānic verses written on wooden slates), and faith in all kinds of amulets (hirizi, hijāb, azma). Muslim activist groups have also protested against time-consuming and conspicuous festivities such as those connected with funeral rites, in particular extensive commemoration of the deceased, and they have attacked the custom of respectful kissing of the hands of religious scholars. Muslim activists have thus tried to propagate their interpretation of Islam in opposition to ‘local Swahili’ cultural influences and the corruption of the ‘West’. Due to their constant polemics against ‘un-Islamic innovations’, the politics of economic liberalization, mass tourism and features of popular religious practices that were summarily denounced as bida, Muslim activists came to be known rather ironically as watu wa bidaa, ‘the innovation people’. In Zanzibar they are also known as wenye msi- mamo mkali (people having a ‘hot’ position), or watu wa siasa kali (people of ‘hot’ politics), whereas they prefer to call themselves, in Arabic, Anār al-Sunna (helpers of the Sunna) or, in Kiswahili, waislamu wapya (new Muslims) or wenye hamasa ya dini (religious enthusiasts; Purpura 1997: 351). The usage of the termwatu wa bidaa is thus rather problematic, since it can be understood and has been used in de-legitimatory ways (IC72, 16.7.2002). I use the expression watu wa bidaa interchangeably with the Arabic expression Anār al-Sunna in order to describe the spectrum of Muslim activist groups in Zanzibar. The Anār al-Sunna/watu wa bidaa do in fact not form an organization of any kind and have consequently not been registered in any form. The term Anār al-Sunna should rather be understood as an umbrella term for a plethora of independent and activist Muslim organizations, such as the Muslim National Conference (Baraza Kuu) or the Warsha ya Waandishi wa Kiislamu (‘Workshop of the Commission of Islamic Authors’, est. 1982), based on the mainland, or groups like Uamsho and others in both Zanzibar and mainland Tanzania which constitute formal bodies (see Loimeier 2007b: 137ff). The Anār al-Sunna/watu wa bidaa thus represent a spectrum of reformist groups and personalities that propagate different approaches in terms of theological orientation, strategy and/or radical activist positioning. However, these groups and persons are united by their rejection of both ‘popular’ and ‘government (official) Islam’, Sufi brotherhoods, and ‘atheist’ CCM rule. In Zanzibar, the various watu Traditions of reform, reforms of tradition 127 wa bidaa groups were also able from the early 1980s to influence discussions in the public sphere in a much more decisive way than reformers in Kenya were able to do, although the latter could count on Abdallāh āli al-Farsy’s support (see chapter 7). So far, the watu wa bidaa have recruited most of their followers in Zanzibar among the young and unemployed. Their success was linked to the economic stagnation in Zanzibar that resulted from the economic policies of the revolution and the liberalization of the economy that began in 1986 (Purpura 1997: 44). After a for mative period in the late 1960s and 1970s, the watu wa bidaa in Zanzibar have also been able to present themselves since the 1980s as the most outspoken voice of religious opposition to the regime of the CCM in Zanzibar. Recently, the watu wa bidaa have even been perceived as threatening the role of the CUF as the only ‘legitimate’ political opposition, due to the CUF’s willingness to negotiate an agreement (muafaka) with the CCM (IC67, 3.4.2005; see chapter 2). Since the 1970s and 1980s, a new generation of activist Muslims and intellectuals has thus developed in Zanzibar (as well as mainland Tanzania and Kenya). This younger generation of activist Muslims has often been abroad and acquired an ‘authorization’ (ijāza) empowered by ‘distance’ and secular criteria such as a ‘diploma’ (Purpura 1997: 132). The watu wa bidaa, in contrast to former scholars, do not stress the importance of descent for their teaching but the importance of niyya, the good intention to teach: they stress qualification through skills (Purpura 1997: 135). Also, they doubt the authority of the old scholars and maintain that a Muslim is obliged to acquire as much knowledge as possible (Purpura 1997: 370). One of Alison Purpura’s interlocutors, Bwana Umar, expressed this change as it emerged in Zanzibar in the 1980s, by saying: We never questioned our shaykhs. We accepted everything they said as true and right...we used to kiss their hands...even in the streets they would hold out their hand to passing children for them to kiss. But you don’t see that today. Now the youth ask their shaykhs things, they question their teachings: what aya? Where does it say that? They challenge them, they want to know more (quoted in Purpura 1997: 131-2). Rashid Salim, another of Alison Purpura’s interlocutors, who was trained in Saudi Arabia, characterized the emergence of these new scholars in similar terms: 128 chapter three

Suddenly these new shaykhs started popping up, this one and that one, each promoting himself. Now, these shaykhs try to show that they have such great knowledge of Islam when in fact they don’t; they try and get people to follow them...In the past, there were shaykhs who were truly recognized for their great knowledge of Islam. But today, these new shaykhs use piles of words in their lectures, opposing the things that the great shaykhs practiced in the past and that are recognized in Islam. They say ‘mawlidi is not permitted, to pray for the dead is not permitted’. They say this but they have no knowledge, no ancestry, no grace, but still they oppose these practices, now that the great ones are dead. They oppose all these activities and confuse Muslims; but in Islam all Muslims should be united. Now, they bring tension and conflict and they are using Islam for political aims to oppose the union (quoted in Purpura 1997: 357). A key person for the development of contemporary Muslim activism in Zanzibar was, as has been mentioned above, Abdallāh āli al- Farsy, who taught one of the first radical Muslim scholars of the 1960s, Rashīd b. āmid ‘al-a ramī Mmakonde’ (B53). Rashīd b. āmid was a student of Sālim b. Sa īd b. Sayf al-Shuhaybī and continued his work in the Jamīat al-Islāmiyya (see above; al-Farsy 1972: 40). Historically, Zanzibar’s activist Muslim movement was rooted in the Kikwajuni quarter, an area of Ng’ambo close to Stone Town, and home, amongst others, to the Manab family. Until today, representatives of the Anār al-Sunna have been based primarily in Kikwajuni, which had two major mosques: while ‘lower Kikwajuni’ (Kikwajuni Chini) has maintained its Alawī orientation, ‘upper Kikwajuni’ (Kikwajuni Juu) was known for its oppositional leanings, under the leadership of Nassor Bachu (see below; IC24, 2.3.2003 and IC3, 23.7.2002). The group around Nassor Bachu started to form in the late 1970s under the influence of teachers from the Sudan, namely Muammad āli, Shaykh Badawī and Shaykh Abd al-Qādir, as well as an Egyptian teacher, Abd al-Wārith Sa īd, all based at the Muslim Academy, and, finally Saidi Njugu, īmām of a Kikwajuni mosque and an active member of the ZNP who was known for his exegetic talent. Saidi Njugu became a source of inspiration for the younger generation of Anār al-Sunna scholars in the 1970s and 1980s. It appears he taught, at least for a short period of time, at the Muslim Academy in the early 1960s, but was dismissed due to the fact that he mixed politics with his teaching (Purpura 1997: 354-5; IC3, 2.5.2005). After his dismissal in 1964, he continued to teach at his mosque and seems to have become a major source of inspiration for the leaders of the Traditions of reform, reforms of tradition 129

Anār al-Sunna movement, Nassor Bachu and Khamisi Ja far in Kikwajuni and Michenzani, in the 1980s and 1990s. Abd al-Wārith Sa īd was also one of the scholars who restarted activities at the Muslim Academy in the early 1970s, before handing over to Musa Makungu (IC3, 2.5.2005, see chapter 8). Abd al-Wārith Sa īd, Saidi Njugu and their colleagues in addition started the discussion about the sighting of the moon which has continued to trouble Zanzibar until recently. In the 1970s, this group actually gathered for īd- prayers on the grounds of the Egyptian consulate near the High Court building in Shangani, until the revolutionary government asked the Egyptian consulate to stop these activities. Subsequently, the Sudanese ‘shaykhs’ were expelled from Zanzibar, first to mainland Tanzania, and then to Sudan. Nassor Bachu and his group took over from them, and formed the present generation of Muslim activists in Zanzibar (IC3, 2.5.2005). The most outstanding representative of the watu wa bidaa in the 1980s and early 1990s was, at least for a short period of time, Khamisi Ja far (B75) of Michenzani (Purpura 1997: 144). He was possibly born in 1950 in Kikwajuni. His grandfather was of Indian origin. He attended Qur ānic school and a madrasa and also studied under his grandfather, who had been a student of Abdallāh āli al-Farsy. Other teachers were one Ali Rashad (B146) and some of the first Sudanese and Egyptian teachers who came to Zanzibar in the early 1970s. In the early 1990s, Khamisi Ja far taught at three madāris in Zanzibar town. He also held female classes and had a shop (Purpura 1997: 145, 360). In the early 1990s, Khamisi Ja far seems to have become rather non-descript, and no longer featured among Zanzibar’s Anār al-Sunna leaders. According to local scholars, he is virtually unknown today and the Raha Leo mosque, which Purpura claims to have been his centre, has rather been linked with the name of Nassor Bachu (IC3, 4.5.2005). In the early 1990s, Nassor Bachu (also spelled Nassoro Bachoo or Nassor Pachu; his family was of Indian origin) came to replace Khamisi Ja far as a major spokesman and leader of the Anār al-Sunna movement in Zanzibar, and as founder of Uamsho (see below). His father or grandfather, Musa Bachu, seems to have been a religious scholar in Donge (Purpura 1997: 145; see also Ameir 2006: 356). His father or uncle, usayn Bachu, was imprisoned in the Mtoni detention camp after the 1964 revolution in Zanzibar (see al-Barwani: 1996). Nassor Bachu himself studied under Abdallāh 130 chapter three

āli al-Farsy (Purpura: 1997: 145). In 2003, Nassor Bachu was the imām of the Kikwajuni Juu mosque in Zanzibar and his group was in control of the Raha Leo juma-mosque. Amongst others, he has written a text on the disputes over the sighting of the moon (Ufafunuzi wa mgogoro wa kuandama kwa mezi, 1998, n.p.; see van de Bruinhorst, 2007b), referring to the work of al-Farsy and the Yūsuf Alī translation of the Qur ān. In the 1980s and 1990s, the group around Nassor Bachu included activists such as Shaykh Kondo, possibly Khamisi Ja far, Saloum Msabbah, ‘Ustādh’ Jamal, Farid Hadi Ahmad, Azzan Khalid Hamdan and Ally Basalleh (see Loimeier 2007b). Since the early 1980s, a number of Anār al-Sunna groups have been formed, the most important being the Jumuiya ya Uamsho (‘The Society of [Islamic] Awareness’), also Kamati ya Uamsho or Jumuiya ya Uamsho na Mihadhara ya Kiislamu, JUMIKI), which was registered as an Islamic NGO in 2002. In the 1990s and early 2000s, Uamsho was led by Nassor Bachoo, Ally Bassalleh and Saloum Msabbah (for Msabbah see Bakari 2001: 268), as well as Farid Hadi Ahmad ‘al- Arab’, the ‘Amiri Mkuu’, and Azzan Khalid Hamdan, the Deputy Amir of Uamsho. Farid Hadi Ahmad had been an army officer in Qatar, who then returned to Zanzibar and became imām of the Chukwani College of Education mosque (an-Nuur, 6.9.2002 and 3.9.2004). The Kamati ya Uamsho again has to be seen as an umbrella organization: while some members were affiliated with theAnār al-Sunna movement, others were not. The same applies to another organization that is often said to be part of the Anār al-Sunna movement, the Jumuiya ya Maimamu, the ‘Union of Imams’ (an-Nuur, 6.9.2002). In 2003, the Jumuiya ya Uamsho was led by Azzan Khalid Hamdan (an-Nuur, 21.3.2003), while the Jumuiya ya Maimamu was led, in 2002, by Said Mwinyi, Nassor Majid and Farid Hadi Ahmad (an-Nuur, 9.8.2002). Nassor Bachu was not only the most outspoken Muslim opponent to the regime of the CCM in Zanzibar, in particular, Salmin Amour, but also started, in the 1980s, to attack the popular maulidi celebrations. Despite the polemics of the watu wa bidaa against the maulidi celebrations, the ritual has retained its popularity. Maulidi celebrations have indeed acquired numerous expressions in Zanzibar and have come to be celebrated not only in the ‘proper’ context of the Prophet’s birthday, but on many different occasions throughout the year, such as parents’ day, school festivals, or marriage ceremonies. Maulidi has also become an integral part of Islamic education and Traditions of reform, reforms of tradition 131 every major madrasa and school celebrates its own maulidi (IC72, 16.7.2002). Eventually, the watu wa bidaa realized that their approach would not yield substantive results. Thus, since around 1999/2000, Nassor Bachu and the majority of the watu wa bidaa groups have adopted a more conciliatory approach and reduced their critique of maulidi (Bakari 2001: 90; IC27, 7.8.2002 and IC25, 9.3.2001). Equally, Nassor Bachu has accepted that women were not obliged to wear the niqāb (IC3, 20.3.2003). On the other hand, Nassor Bachu and the majority of Anār al-Sunna have started to focus more sharply on the alleged decay of morals, prostitution, tourism, and drugs, or the increasing presence of Christians in Zanzibar (see Loimeier 2006d). In addition, the Anār al-Sunna have attacked the Zanzibar International Film Festival (ZIFF) and the Mwaka Kogwa (New Year Festival) in Makunduchi. Both ZIFF and the Mwaka Kogwa were seen as manifestations of the corruption of Zanzibar’s ‘Muslim’ society by tourism (my own observations, reports in an-Nuur and Maarifa; see also Ahmed 2002a: 147ff and 2002b: 194ff; Larsen 2002; Loimeier 2006d; Purpura 1997: 221, 279/80; IC93, 2.4.2005 and IC24, 2.8.2003). While the Anār al-Sunna have stopped attacking mawlidi traditions, they have identified other ‘objects of wrath’ such as prostitution, the drug trade, the alleged decay of morals and other problems for which the government is made responsible. Thus, the watu wa bidaa have tried to build common ground for a generally acceptable Muslim opposition to government policies (IC82, 26.7.2002). At the same time, the Anār al-Sunna try to evade accusations of creating fitna (strife, chaos) among Muslims (Maarifa, 8; IC47 and IC27, both 30.7.2002). In a reaction to this change of strategy, a small group under the leadership of ‘Ustādh’ Jamal split off, maintaining the more radical positions of the Anār al-Sunna, and established yet another activist Muslim group. The development towards more moderate positions might thus be reversed in the future, also due to the fact that Nassor Bachu’s health has deteriorated over the past few years (IC58, 23.4.2007). The question thus arises as to who will emerge as a new charismatic leader of the watu wa bidaa movement in Zanzibar in the years to come. While turning away from intra-Muslim disputes, the Anār al- Sunna groups have multiplied their attacks on ‘official Islam’ since the late 1990s, and in particular on the office of the Muftī. The office of the Muftī has been viewed as being ‘responsible for the control 132 chapter three of the Muslims, as there would be no need to control Christians’ (IC80, 22.5.2007). ‘Control’ was manifested by the fact, for instance, that Muslims had to ask the Muftī’s office for permission for all kinds of activities such as public sermons (mihadhara). The office and the person of the Muftī have also become controversial due to the fact that the Muftī’s office was created in order to legitimize government policies with respect to Islam. Disputes over the sighting of the moon have consequently become a particular feature of Zanzibar’s religious disputes since the 1980s, due to the fact that the Anār al-Sunna used the annual discussions over the sighting of the moon to criticize the government’s instrumentalization of Islam. In matters of the ‘timing’ of the month of Ramadan and respective īd-days, the Muftī has spoken out consistently against the notion of a ‘universal’ Saudi Arabian ‘timing’, as supported by the Anār al-Sunna, and has defended a ‘localist’ government position. The Anār al-Sunna, by contrast, have propagated the ‘universal’ Saudi timing for the differentīds , maintaining that Zanzibar should follow Mecca time, like Kenya and the Tanzanian mainland, since Saudi Arabia not only constitutes the qibla (pole of orientation) for all Muslims, but happens to be in the same time zone (IC48, 22.3.2003, Purpura 1997: 221; van de Bruinhorst 2007b). The annual disputes over the sighting of the moon have led to recurring disturbances and riots in Zanzibar since the early 2000s (see Loimeier 2009). Thus, riots occurred in Ramadan 2001 when the police arrested more than twenty Anār al-Sunna members who had prayed ‘too early’ (van de Bruinhorst 2007a), and another series of riots followed in February 2003 and February 2004 in the context of the īd al- ajj-celebrations. After another ‘illegal’ demonstration on 5 March 2004, organized by the Jumuiya ya Maimamu, Uamsho was prohibited for a time and its leaders imprisoned, although they were released soon after. Disputes over the sighting of the moon stopped in 2006 only, when the Muftī eventually accepted that the Anār al-Sunna could start fasting according to Saudi times in their own mosques.18 Since 2006, Anār al-Sunna debates have shifted from matters of ‘timing’ towards criticism of the īd festivities, in particular, the īd al-fir (Swahili: siku kuu, ‘the great day’) at the end of the month of Ramadan which, in

18 The sudden end of the annual disputes over the sighting of the moon in 2006 may also be linked to the fact that years of dispute had led to nothing and that the majority of Muslims were tired of this kind of strife which had not produced any new arguments for some time (IC26, 10.9.2007). Traditions of reform, reforms of tradition 133

Zanzibar as in many other Muslim countries, lasts for a period of several days and is characterized by conspicuous consumption and rather worldly feasting (IC82, 26.2.2001). The Anār al-Sunna have not only been fighting for a socio-religious agenda, they have also come to form an Islamic opposition against Zanzibar’s allegedly atheist CCM government and corrupt administration. In 1988, a statement by Sofia Kawawa, the chair- woman of the ‘Association of Tanzanian Women’, had triggered first religious riots in post-revolutionary Zanzibar. Sofia Kawawa had urged the CCM to abrogate the ‘Islamic Marriage Act’ as it discriminated against women, a demand that has resurfaced regularly since that time (see The Guardian and al-Nuur documentation of the ‘Divorcee Protection Act of 1984’ in July and August 2003; Loimeier 2007b: 137ff). Her statement triggered riots in Zanzibar in May 1988, led by Nassor Bachu, as well as Saleh Juma of Forodhani mosque, and Ali Hemed Jadir of Mchangani mosque (Lacunza Balda 1989: 328), while Khamisi Ja far and Shaykh Kondo were accused, in the aftermath of the riots, of having organized this rally (Purpura 1997: 379). When Ali Hassan Mwinyi, Tanzania’s President, reacted in defense of Sofia Kawawa, he was attacked in Sauti ya Zanzibar Huru (no. 1, p. 5, 1989) for giving Christians too much consideration: ‘The leaders of the Zanzibari government dare to join forces with the great enemy of Islam and to persecute the Shaykhs. Today, Christian preachers are left free to preach and spread Christianity in Zanzibar while the Shaykhs of Islam are squeezed to make them restless. Where do these things come from? How is it that Christians have no obstacles?’ (quoted in Lacunza Balda 1989: 304-5). In 1989, Muslim activism continued in the form of ‘bismillahi al- rahmani al-rahim’ stickers that claimed religious hegemony over the realm of politics. In 1992, a third incident occurred when Shaykh Kondo entered the stage as a major figure. Riots occurred near Forodhani mosque and were directed against a family planning programme and against plans to increase tourism (Purpura 1997: 379). In 1994, protest against the increasing presence of churches in Zanzibar was manifested in fire attacks on a number of churches, in particular, Saint Mark’s, which was burned down on 22 September 1994 (Niwagila 1999: 172). In 2001, an explosive device caused some damage in a well known Zanzibar brothel and night-bar, the ‘New Happy Lodge’ in Shangani, and was seen as a protest of ‘activist Muslims’ against the public consumption of beer (IC38, 4.8.2002). 134 chapter three

The ‘New Happy Lodge’ was closed down in 2006, yet similar venues close to mosques, such as the ‘Sunrise Bar’ in Baghani, ‘Mercury’s’ in Malindi, or the ‘Starehe Club’ in Shangani, were allowed to continue business. The most serious disturbances so far occurred in March 2004, when the Uamsho group was accused of being responsible for five (according to other sources: seven) incidents that were presented by the government as ‘Islamist terrorist’ attacks. Thus, a grenade was thrown into ‘Mercury’s’, a bar on the seafront close to the Malindi Friday mosque, at a point of time when a delegation of the British High Commission was apparently sitting at the bar. The grenade did not explode, however, as the pin had not been pulled. Also, a number of electric transformers were blown up, an explosive device went off in the garden of the Muftī’s house without causing major damage, and a disused car of the Commissioner of Police was set on fire (IC23, 1.4.2004; IC94, 17.7.2004; IC80, 21.4.2004). The 2004 ‘bombings’ were rather simple affairs, yet they served to express the themes of ‘Muslim’ critique. A spokesman from the Muftī’s office could even claim that the CCM government deliberately used these events to convey credibility to an ‘Islamist terrorist threat’ in Zanzibar as a strategy to delegitimize the oppositional Civic United Front as a party with an ‘Islamist’ orientation (IC80, 20.4.2004). At the same time, the CCM government not only tried to link the political opposition with these acts of terror, but tried to hit two birds with one stone by pinning all acts of opposition against the Muftī on the ‘radical Islamic opposition’. In the past few years, a broad spectrum of ‘reformist’ brokers of ‘Islam’ has emerged thus, comprising, first of all, the ‘government scholars’ such as the qā īs, the Muslim functionaries and teachers of ‘Islamics’ at the Chuo Cha Kiislamu and other government schools, as well as religious scholars such as Abdallāh b. Abī Bakr ‘Mu allim’ Bā Kathīr, who, until his death in 2000, was the imām of the Madrasat al-Nūr and who cooperated closely with the government. The efforts of the state to exert hegemonic power over all aspects of everyday life, including religion, and the instrumentalization of Muslim functionaries for these ends, has encouraged the development of oppositional groups which have tried to escape and to oppose state control and who attack existing religious, social and political structures. In the 1980s and 1990s, the attacks of the watu wa bidaa were directed chiefly at aspects of popular religion such as the mawlidi. In recent years, however, the watu wa bidaa have refocused on ‘official reli- Traditions of reform, reforms of tradition 135 gion’, in particular the confrontation with the Muftī, and have tried to build common ground among Muslims in their confrontation with the CCM regime. Both Muslim ‘functionaries’ and ‘Medina graduates’, as well as the watu wa bidaa groups, were characterized by the fact that their leading representatives had been trained in countries such as Saudi Arabia, Egypt and Sudan, in particular at the Islamic University of Medina, and are often far removed from older, Sufi- oriented traditions of reform. Despite the popularity of their critique of the CCM government, the watu wa bidaa have so far failed, however, to make a deeper impact on Zanzibari society. This may be due to the fact that over time moralistic discourses and polemics create a certain degree of exhaustion among those who have to listen to moralistic sermons. It may also be due, however, to the fact that the watu wa bidaa, while controlling some mosques and, at times, influ- encing public debates, have so far not gained a foothold in state- controlled institutions such as the Waqf Commission or institutions of Islamic learning. The efforts of the watu wa bidaa to establish their own realm within Islamic education have not yet reached a tangible stage, although this might change in the near future. 136 chapitre iii

1. Shaykh Abd al- Azīz b. Abd al-Ghanī al-Amawī

2. Shaykh āhir b. Abī Bakr al-Amawī l’orthographe du codex parisino-petropolitanus 137

3. Shaykh Burhān b. Abd al- Azīz b. Abd al-Ghanī al-Amawī

4. Sayyid Umar Qullatayn 138 chapitre iii

5. Sayyid Amad b. Sumay

6. Sayyid Amad b. Alī al-usaynī, ‘Sayyid Manab’ l’orthographe du codex parisino-petropolitanus 139

7. Sayyid amīd b. Amad (Manab) al-usaynī

8. Shaykh Muammad b. Umar al-Khaīb 140 chapitre iii

9. Shaykh Amad b. Muammad Mlomry

10. Shaykh Abd al-Raīm b. Mamūd al-Wāshilī l’orthographe du codex parisino-petropolitanus 141

11. Sayyid Umar b. Amad b. Sumay

12. Some imāms of Gofu mosque, from top left to bottom right: Mwalimu Juma, a brother of amīd Manab (n.n.), Mu allim Bā Kathīr, unknown, Mzee Dahoma, Zagar al-Farsy (head torn out), Mwalimu imīd, Sayyid Amad amīd Manab 142 chapitre iii

13. The teachers at Barza, from left: Muyī al-Dīn b. Abd al-Ramān, Abdallāh Mu adhdhin, Mwalimu imīd.

14. Zanzibar’s first government school teacher from Egypt: Shaykh Abd al-Bāri b. Abd al-Bāri al- Ajīzī, sitting in the centre with tarbush l’orthographe du codex parisino-petropolitanus 143

15. Shaykh Muammad Muammad al-Dahhān

16. Sayyid Umar Abdallāh 144 chapitre iii

17. Shaykh Abdallah āli al-Farsy

18. Shaykh Mamūd b. Kombo l’orthographe du codex parisino-petropolitanus 145

19. Shaykh Muammad b. Abd al-Ramān al-Makhzūmī

20. Shaykh Abūbakar b. Abdallah Bā Kathīr 146 chapitre iii

21. Some members of the Amīr family, from top left to bottom right: Madaura Kinoo, Abdalbari b. Hafidh Ameir, Haji b. Ameir, Hafidh Ameir, Hamid b. Hafidh Ameir, Salih b. Hija, Ramadhan b. Abbas, asan b. Amīr, Hafidh b. Ameir and Maalim Mbaraka Mzee

22. Shaykh asan b. Amīr l’orthographe du codex parisino-petropolitanus 147 Georgina Rose Johnson, on his left Amed Sayf al-Kharūī. 23. Teachers of the Government Secondary School in the late 1930s: the sixth from left sitting is Lawrence W. Hollingsworth, on his right 23. Teachers of the Government Secondary School in late 1930s: sixth from left sitting is Lawrence W. Hollingsworth, on his right 148 chapitre iii the development of the canon 149

CHAPTER FOUR

ISLAMIC EDUCATION IN ZANZIBAR: THE DEVELOPMENT OF THE CANON

4.1. The Negotiation of Islamic Education

Changes in education and changes in concepts of knowledge reflect struggles among competing social groups within a given society (Eickelman 1985: 6). This remark seems to be true not only of the development of Islamic education, but also of the world of academe in general, and the study of the history of Islamic education in particular. This chapter will therefore start with a presentation of some major characteristics of Islamic education from a conceptual perspective, and will then proceed to major trends of Islamic education in history, taking India and Egypt as examples. India and Egypt have been chosen since initiatives of reform in these countries had model character for many Muslim societies from the 18th century onward, and have consequently influenced the course of Islamic education in East Africa in more or less direct ways. The social background to reforms in Islamic education in East Africa will be shown in a next step, before examining the structure and nature of Islamic education in Zanzibar. The two final sections will focus on the transformation of the canon of Islamic learning in Zanzibar in the early 20th and early 21st centuries. Islamic education has been the focus of a multitude of studies, and most scholars in the field would agree that there was, in the sphere of ‘Islamic education studies’, a ‘before’ and an ‘after’ George Makdisi’s first major article in 1961 on Muslim Institutions of Learning in Eleventh Century Baghdad and the entry madrasa in the Encyclopaedia of Islam by himself and Pedersen. Makdisi’s presentation of the development of Islamic education was expounded in a major volume in 1981, which included a critique of earlier work on Islamic education. At the same time, studies of Islamic education ‘beyond Makdisi’, such as Tibawi (1962), Nakosteen (1964), Eickelman (1985), Berkey (1992), Messick (1993), Chamberlain (1994), Grandin/ Gaborieau (1997), or, more recently, Fortna (2000), Robinson (2001), 150 chapter four

Zaman (2002), Hartung/Reifeld (2006) and Hefner/Zaman (2007) have pointed out some pitfalls of the Makdisian presentation and have added to established wisdom, not only regarding the history and development of Islamic education and the spectrum of disciplines in Islamic education, but also with respect to different expressions of education in the Islamic world. Tibawi (1962) and others have criticized Makdisi, for instance, for being too formal when describing ‘medieval’ Islamic schools (madāris) as ‘Islamic universities’ (of the European ‘medieval’ type) with an organized and differentiated student body, a specialized syllabus, a professorate, an institutional educational goal and the certification of both teachers and students. They hold against him that personalized relations continued well beyond ‘medieval’ times, that the new madāris were not that formalized and coexisted with individual and mosque learning. Also there was not a fixed curriculum of ‘beginning, intermediate and advanced studies’, even though there was a certain formalization of education and the emergence of a canon of texts that were supposed to be read (Chamberlain 1994: 69/70). In fact, it took several centuries, until such formalized structures evolved. Until then, the personalized study of texts (not disciplines) under the guidance of scholars (not necessarily in schools) remained paramount: to study, one went to scholars, not to schools (Berkey 1992: 23). Consequently, the ijāza (‘authorization’ to teach a specific text) of a student mentioned his teacher and not a school as the source of learning: ‘an education was judged not on loci but on personae’ (Berkey 1992: 23). Students studied in alaqāt (circles), not in classrooms and the alqa of a shaykh might be a place in a madrasa, but also in a mosque or his private house. Also, a student got an ijāza from his teacher for a text or the part of the text he had mastered, and consequently not for a ‘discipline’ (Chamberlain 1994: 88). Only when schools, often supported by charitable foundations (awqāf), became meeting places for several well known scholars, were schools mentioned in the biographies of scholars (Chamberlain 1994: 75). When talking about ‘education’ in general, it has to be equally stressed that the expression tarbiya which has come to be used today for ‘education’, seems to be rather new in historical terms. Before the end of the 19th century, tarbiya was understood rather broadly as ‘nurturing’, a generic term for all kind of ‘breeding’ (of plants or animals) and ‘nursing’ (Heranziehen, Aufzucht). Rifā a al-ahāwī’s famous report of his journey to France and his stay in Paris in 1834, the development of the canon 151 takhlī al-ibrīz fī talkhī Bārīz, does not yet mention tarbiya at all; rather, he stresses the ‘discipline’ (tartīb) of the army and the administration in France (Mitchell 1988: 88), and even in a much later text on education, namely his al-murshīd al-amīn li-l-banāt wa-l-banīn (1872), al-ahāwī uses the term tarbiya only in connection with the older term talīm. Even in 1903, the Egyptian government handbook on education had to stress that the tarbiya of things did ‘not mean (any more) making them increase in size’. Rather, tarbiya would refer to ‘discipline and exercise of individuals’ (Mitchell 1988: 89). Despite these linguistic caveats, I use the term tarbiya here in its talīm dimen sion of meaning, i.e. ‘education’ (Geistes- und Herzensbil- dung). Important for ‘proper’ education (tarbiya) were the techniques and manners of learning, adab al-talīm, which, according to the key texts in this sphere of education, al-Zarnūjī and Ibn Jamā a, included the methods of learning, such as reading (qara a) and recitation (tilāwa) of the 60 recitational sections (a zāb, sg. izb) of the Qur ān, according to the rules of tajwīd, as well as studying (darasa), memorization (dhakara) and repetition (takrīr), and finally the rules regarding the relations of the student to his master. A proper environment was thought to be central to Islamic education. In this model of learning, student-master relations were paramount, yet peer-learning in circles without the master, under the guidance of an assistant of the master (muīd), and individual learning were accepted forms of learning as well (Berkey 1992: 24). Texts were spread by dictation (imlā ), they were ‘heard from’ (samia min) and ‘read to’ (qara alā), a system of transmission of knowledge that relied on personalized relations (Berkey 1992: 24). As a consequence, only individuals could impart knowledge, not a ‘school’, an institution or individual reading, which could lead to misunderstanding by interpretation. Only personal teaching could provide explanation in cases of problems of understanding. Knowledge came from a learned master, not from a text (Berkey 1992: 27). Consequently, it was necessary for the student to record the lessons and to memorize them by reading and reciting aloud. Reading aloud also provided acoustic checks and aided the process of conscious memorization. Students sought to be close to the master, and u ba (proximity, companionship) was another important element of master-student relationships (Berkey 1992: 34). Equally, adab al-talīm stressed the best times for instruction, which was in the morning after daybreak (ub , fajr), while the middle of 152 chapter four the day was regarded to be better for writing, the evening best for reading and group study, al-muālaa wa-l-mudhākara (studying by reading and memorization) (Berkey 1992: 79; see also al-Zarnūjī 1984: 45f). Adab al-talīm also stressed silence as the most important precondition for learning. The first duty of the student was ‘good listening’, the second ‘good questioning’, the third ‘good listening’ (to answers), the fourth ‘good memorizing’ and the fifth the propagation and spreading (dawa) of what had been learned (Makdisi 1981: 102). In the 20th century, the understanding of adab and akhlāq changed considerably, however, and came to mean ‘morals’ (or ‘ethics’) rather than ‘good manners’. Also, adab and akhlāq came to be seen as major disciplines for ‘character building’ in the modern schools which taught secular subjects (Fortna 2000: 38; 203).1 Central to Islamic education and the process of learning (‘Geistes- und Herzensbildung’, tarbiya) was the basic authoritative text (matn), the Qur ān. The deeds and sayings of the Prophet as transmitted in the a ādīth collections formed a second pillar of Islamic learning, and both Qur ān and Sunna informed a third layer of interpretative texts that came to constitute a family of texts on the principles of Islamic law (sharīa) and its juristic interpretation (fiqh). Over time, the growth of fiqh literature led to the development of further interpretative texts (shurū , sing. shar , and sub-commentaries, awāshī, sing. āshiya) which ‘opened’ a specific matn and its abridgements, mukhtaarāt, manuals, which were written to provide an easy overview over a vast body of themes and which again needed interpretation (Messick 1993: 16-7; 30). This process could be characterized as the process of formation of a ‘canon’ in Jan Assmann’s terms. Assmann has shown that in the process of formation of a canon of recognized authoritative texts which in the process of ‘canonization’ are turned into ‘closed’ texts, such texts are increasingly viewed as sacrosanct and have to be interpreted in a respective literature and corpus of texts which over time may also acquire canonical status. This process of ‘canonization’ has always been a major precondition for the development of ‘Auslegungskulturen’ (cultures of exegesis

1 At the same time, Ottoman government schools seem to have introduced the celebration of the Prophet’s birthday (mawlid al-nabī) in the late 19th century in order to ‘balance’ secular education and even legitimize it by stressing the on-going importance of the Prophet. The Imperial school in Galatasaray, for instance, started celebrating the mawlid al-nabī in 1882, only five years after first reforms of this school had started (Fortna 2000: 203). the development of the canon 153 and interpretation): ‘canonical texts in fact demand interpretation’ (Assmann 2000: 56-57). The process of formation of a corpus of texts which eventually came to form a ‘canon’ was repeated for every discipline of Islamic learning. Over time, in each discipline, a corpus of key texts (mutūn) emerged which was taught and memorized foremost. These key texts could be regarded, in the consensus of the ulamā , as the ‘mother-texts’ (ummuhāt) and gateways to a discipline. For the Shāfi ī school of law, al-Nawawī’s minhāj al-ālibīn was the basic matn, which was presented again, in a shorter form, in Abū Shujā ’s mukhtaar (or kitāb al-taqrīb). These texts were again interpreted in a number of ‘families’ of explanatory and interpretative compendia, such as al-Ghazzī’s fat al-qarīb for Abū Shujā ’s kitāb al-taqrīb and the āshiya by al-Bājūrī on al-Ghazzī’s work. The fact that Islamic law according to the Shāfi ī madhhab and other disciplines of Islamic learning, as well as the interpretation of the basic mutūn and compendia was discussed in families of equally valid interpretative texts, has led, in the absence of a church that canonized a specific ‘syllabus’, to the emergence of a certain polyvocality of interpretation and opinion in Islamic learning (Messick 1993: 34). This polyvocality came to be challenged only in the context of movements of reform since the 18th century, which have led, as has been shown by Messick (1993) and others, to the formalization and uniformization of Islamic learning: polyvocality was increasingly replaced by state-defined texts that claimed to constitute the one and only authoritative source of guidance of both teachers and students.2 An important distinction in classic Islamic learning was the difference between the ‘transmitted’ (manqūlāt) or revealed disciplines and the ‘rational sciences’ (maqūlāt). The manqūlāt were based on the authority of the Qur ān and the Sunna of the Prophet, and included all disciplines that were derived from these, such as adīth (the records of the sayings and actions of the Prophet), and auxiliary disciplines such as ilm al-rijāl (‘knowledge of the men’, i.e. the transmitters of adīth), the principles of the abrogating and the abrogated (verse) (al-nāsikh wa-l-mansūkh), tafsīr (exegesis of the Qur ān), the seven qirā āt (ways of ‘reading’) and tajwīd (methods of recitation), fiqh (jurisprudence) with a focus on inheritance rules (mīrāth) and

2 For these processes of change in Yemen, see Messick 1993; for Egypt, see Cre- celius 1978 and Mitchell 1988; for the Ottoman Empire, see Fortna 2000; for India, see Metcalf 1982, Robinson 2001 and Hartung/Reifeld 2006. 154 chapter four uūl al-fiqh (the doctrine of the ‘roots’ of fiqh and the methodology of their application), aqīda (catechism; basic theology), taw īd (dogmatic theology), and taawwuf (Sufism). The maqūlāt on the other hand implied reasoning and calculation, in particular language- related disciplines that were important for the exegesis of the Qur ān, such as lugha (lexicography, philology, i.e. of Arabic), na w (grammar), al-bayān and balāgha (rhetoric), arū (metrics, prosody) and arf (morphology), but also maniq (logic), falsafa (philosophy), riyā iyyāt and isāb (arithmetic), falakiyāt ( ilm al-falak, astronomy, astrology etc.), ibb (medicine) and adab (literature, but also, in a more restricted sense, ‘ethics’, akhlāq), as well as, finally, kalām, if understood as speculative theology. Islamic learning also acknowledged a hierarchy of disciplines. Most important was the memorization of the Qur ān in the field of the manqūlāt, while this rank was taken, in the field of the maqūlāt, by na w, which was thought to be the ‘key’ for Qur ān and Sunna (Makdisi 1981: 76). In classical scholarship, na w was understood as including linguistics, poetry, and literature, and was understood as being composed of lugha, tarif/arf and arū . Second in rank were adab, mad (praise poetry), and qaīda (poetry). The classical ‘syllabus’ thus started with the Qur ān, continued with adīth, and then progressed to tafsīr and the qirā āt (see below). Only then came the ‘foundations’ of the faith and the law, uūl al-dīn and uūl al-fiqh, as well as fiqh in the interpretation of the different madhāhib (schools of law), and the study of adīth in the ulūm al- adīth; then followed na w and its branches, and finally,taawwuf .3 These disciplines were understood as a ba r, an ocean of learning (Makdisi 1981: 99; Mitchell 1988: 83). The structure of learning was often repeated in the sequence of learning throughout a day: advanced students started with the Qur ān in the morning, continued with adīth and tafsīr and concluded the day in the evening with the reading and interpretation of texts in taawwuf (Mitchell 1988: 83). The first task of the Qur ānic school

3 Scholars such as al-Ghazzālī (d. 1111) or Amad Zarrūq (d. 1493) stressed the interrelatedness of the different ulūm and maintain that ‘there is no sufism except through fiqh, because God’s exoteric laws (a kām Allāh al-āhira) can only be known through it; and there is no fiqh but through taawwuf (Sufism), for praxis (amal) is only carried out through truthfulness (idq) and an orientation toward the divine (tawajjuh)’ (Amad Zarrūq as quoted by Cornell 1999: 207). In the old traditions of Islamic learning in East Africa, this understanding of learning was represented by the scholars of the Alawiyya (IC73, 18.3.2003). the development of the canon 155 was to train skills of memorization (ta fī) by constant repetition (takrīr) and incremental learning (leading from a-b-c to a-b-c-d): al-dhākira tuqawwī al-talīm (memorization strengthens education; Fortier 1997: 93; see also al-Zarnūjī 1984: 32f). Firm discipline was regarded as a precondition for the proper memorization of the Qur ān (see Loimeier 2001: 98ff). In fact, the internal (‘Islamic’) logic of Qur ānic school education with its stress on discipline can be understood only when one takes into account that children were viewed as not yet having acquired the aql (reason) that was necessary for understanding (fahama) the meaning (maāna) of the Qur ān, the holy word of God. In the Qur ānic school the teacher thus had to make sure that children mastered the text as such. Knowledge was only respected as knowledge when it was ‘incorporated’ as a body of knowledge, by memorization, and was not dependent on the consult- ing of texts: when arguing, one had to have the mastery of a text without being constrained to consult a text (Makdisi 1981: 100): La formation coranique est une formation totale tant religieuse, morale et sociale, technique et professionalle, qu’intellectuelle et littéraire…La pédagogie coranique ne se limitait pas à l’apprentissage de la lecture,… mais visait plutôt à la formation totale de l’individu, à la transmission d’un modèle d´homme adapté à son état de société…C’est une initiation vers un statut nouveau, celui d’adulte initié (Santerre 1973: 346-7). The stress on memorization in the Qur ānic school was recognized by early European travellers and was described as recently as in the 1970s as the ‘stifling dullness’ of Islamic learning (see Brown 1976), which was ‘defying all pedagogical technique’ (Berque 1974: 167). Such negative views of Islamic education were formed in 19th century Europe against a background of educational reforms in Europe at this period of time (Eickelman 2007: 137; see below). In contrast to European perceptions of Islamic learning, memorization of the Qur ān and understanding (fahm) of texts in a wider sense was not measured, in Muslim societies, by the ability to explain the text, as was done in the discipline of tafsīr by senior scholars. Rather, individual, ‘lay’ and informal attempts to explain meaning of the Qur ān were seen as blasphemy. Yet, the major aim of memorizing the Qur ān was not to inculcate rigid discipline, but to provide skills and social knowledge that could be translated in meaningful ways into social competence, when quoting the Qur ān in public debates, for instance, in order to strengthen, legitimize and sanctify a particular 156 chapter four argument: The measure of understanding of a text was implicit and skill was shown by the ability to quote from the Qur ān beyond the sequential order of memorization. Equally, the measure of understanding of the text was the ability to make practical reference to the memorized text, just as originality was shown in working Qur ānic references into conversation, sermons and formal occasions (Eickelman 2007: 138). The established madrasa concept of Islamic learning as described by Eickelman for early 20th century Morocco (Eickelman 1978, 1985 and 2007) followed a model well known throughout the Islamic world with its stress on memorization of the basic texts (Eickelman 1985: 58).4 Studies on the development of Islamic education in different local contexts show that patterns of education and the canon of texts in disciplines such as taw īd, adīth, na w and lugha were similar throughout the Islamic world. Major differences existed with respect to fiqh, as different Muslim societies were linked with different madhāhib (schools of law). Differences also existed with respect to taawwuf (Sufism). In all of these ‘provinces’ of Islamic learning, however, students progressed at their own rate, in a personalized, tutorial approach to learning, which implied different speeds of learning and individual assessment of progress (Brenner 2007: 204). In this concept of Muslim scholarship, the production of written documents has been considered secondary to memory, recitation and reproduction of the authoritative presence of the human voice. Texts were considered unreliable and ambiguous without human interpreters or witnesses, and were regarded as by-products of legal

4 Similar types of Islamic education have been described, amongst others, by Fortna (2000) for the late 19th century Ottoman empire; Chamberlain (1994) for medieval Damascus; Berkey (1992) for medieval Cairo; Mitchell (1988) for 19th century Egypt; Metcalf (1982), Robinson (2001) and Hartung/Reifeld (2006) for 19th and 20th century India; Bowen (1993) for contemporary Sumatra; van Bruinessen (1990) for contemporary Java; Messick (1993) for 20th century Yemen; Freitag (1999a and 2003) for 20th century Hadramaut; Reese (2004) for Islamic learning in sub-Saharan Africa in general; Bang (2003) for early 20th century East Africa; Cham- berlin (1975) for contemporary Kano; Reichmuth (1998a) for 19th and 20th century Ilorin; Cissé (1992), Tamari (1996), Brenner (2001) and Kavas (2003) for contemporary Mali; Fortier (1997) and el-Hamel (2002) for medieval Mauritania and Mali; Khayar (1976) for contemporary Chad; Launay (1992) for 20th century Ivory Coast; Wilks (1975) for 19th century Ghana; Meunier (1997) for 20th century Niger and Cameroon; Ndiaye (1985) and Loimeier (2001) for contemporary Senegal; Sanneh (1979) for pre-colonial Gambia; Eisemon/Wasi (1987), Seesemann (2007) and Sper- ling (1993) for the contemporary Kenyan coast; van de Bruinhorst (2007b) for contemporary Tanzania; Turki (1987) and Ziddy (2001) for 20th century Zanzibar. the development of the canon 157 and pedagogical practice rather than their focus. Teaching relied on the oral transmission of texts and commentaries from master to student (Starrett 1998: 95). Yet, whereas Islamic concepts of learning are presented here in the order in which they were taught in the classical times of madrasa education, from the 11th to the 16th centuries (see Makdisi 1981), Zanzibar’s madāris in the late 19th and early 20th centuries already followed a modified ‘hierarchy’, in which fiqh-related disciplines had indeed acquired a more prominent role than, for instance, adīth or tafsīr. In the 19th century, the debate regarding the role of the disciplines had acquired a new quality in the course of the emergence of new Islamic schools in British India and the question as to which disciplines should be taught in these madāris (Zaman 2002: 64-5; see also Metcalf 1982). According to Metcalf, first attempts at reforming education had been made in India, but developed in different directions. These reform efforts were a reaction to the increasing presence of the British in the 18th century, but acquired impetus in the 19th century. The first reformist effort in education was the ‘Farangi Mahall’ in Lucknow (fl. 18th century), which expanded the array of Islamic disciplines in its syllabus and started to stress the maqūlāt as against the manqūlāt. Only in 1905 did the Farangi Mahall introduce a curriculum that consisted of established Islamic disciplines as well as government school disciplines such as English, geography and geometry (Robinson 2001: 127). Against the reforms of the Farangi Mahall, Shāh Walī Allāh (d. 1762) developed a counter-position which was characterized by stress on Qur ān and adīth and rejection of the maqūlāt. A next step in reformist dynamics was achieved by the Delhi College (established in 1825, but closed in 1857 after the ‘mutiny’), which was intended to provide ‘useful’ education in ‘European’ disciplines for ‘respectable Indians’. After 1857, many students of the Delhi College went ahead and founded their own schools on the Delhi model. The Aligarh College (see below) was probably a logical outcome of their reform endeavours. A different path was taken by a school founded in 1867, namely Deoband, which tried to reform the establish madrasa system by introducing British administrational and institutional models, by expanding the Islamic curriculum, and by introducing, as al-Azhar would do in 1878, ‘prizes’, fixed courses, professional staff, classrooms, examinations, annual convocations, a college system and a library (Metcalf 1982: 93). Some of the teachers at Deoband were 158 chapter four government servants, had come from the Delhi college and their aim was to form a well educated modern ulamā elite that could find jobs as imāms, writers, preachers, teachers and qā īs within the colonial system. Students at Deoband were taught a fixed and comprehensive syllabus, while the study of single texts or parts of texts was abandoned. Deoband, in a way, took up the efforts of the Farangi Mahall in institutional terms, but stressed the manqūlāt, as Shāh Walī Allāh had done (Metcalf 1982: 100). Deoband indeed established a curriculum that measured the progress of students and downplayed the significance of the polyvocal tradition (Berkey 2007: 49). The Deoband model was of particular importance for the development of new models of ‘Islamic’ education as it was hybrid and thus adaptable: it had a fixed curriculum, examinations and formal structures but stressed manqūlāt (Hefner/Zaman 2007: 19). In particular, Deoband focused on adīth against an 18th and 19th century emphasis on fiqh, and taught language-related disciplines which were regarded as important for tafsīr (Zaman 2007: 63ff). At the same time, ‘initiatic transmission’ (Brenner 2007: 33) was replaced by ‘institutional transmission’ in classrooms, through syllabuses, examinations and professional teachers: faith became a ‘subject which had to be explained and understood’ (Hefner/Zaman 2007: 33). Not much later than Deoband was the establishment of the Aligarh movement by Sayyid Amad Khan in 1875, which was characterized by a modern syllabus including ‘Islamics’ which sought modern education for Indian Muslim elites (Metcalf 1982: 315). Another movement of reform was represented by the nadwa al-ulamā movement as established in 1891 which also sought cooperation with the British but focused on the training of ulamā in a reformed Islamic syllabus (Metcalf 1982: 336). A new education system thus emerged in British India that was characterized by a fairly homogeneous curriculum based on a combination of the manqūlāt and maqūlāt. This concept of education was introduced in Egypt and the Ottoman Empire in the early 19th century and later transmitted to Hadramaut, then to East Africa and to the French and British colonial empires, and within the British Empire, to Sudan, northern Nigeria and Zanzibar. A major feature of ‘modern’ concepts of Islamic education was the stress of the maqūlāt which continued throughout most of the 20th century, at the development of the canon 159 least in government-school education, while Salafiyya-oriented movements of reform advocated a return to the manqulāt (Robinson 2001: 240ff). Interestingly enough, India and Egypt not only became testing grounds for the development of models of ‘modern Islamic’ education (see Mitchell 1988), but also testing grounds for the grant-in-aid system of the British colonial administrations (Starrett 1998: 46) in, for instance, Zanzibar (see chapter 5). Educational reforms that resembled Indian efforts started in Egypt in the 1820s: the katātīb (‘writing’ schools) were used here to recruit students for the Egyptian army, and for that purpose students had to be drilled in new disciplines, which required textbooks that could be taught. The first textbook that was actually printed in Egypt was the alfiyya by Imām Mālik in 1834 (Starrett 1998: 27). In 1835, a first syllabus for primary schools was established and the English ‘three r’s’ (reading, writing and arithmetic) were complemented by a fourth, ‘religion’ (Starrett 1998: 69). Reformist efforts led to a more systematic assessment of original sources and an effort to propagate abstract and generalizable principles as in Islamic law. Necessarily, this search for abstract principles had to reemphasize the importance of the Qur ān and the Sunna of the Prophet as primal sources against the maqūlāt, the rational sciences which had been stressed by some of the 18th and 19th century movements of reform, as well as reformist movements in the Ottoman Empire and Egypt (Metcalf 1982: 349). These processes of reform led, in a longer perspective, to an increasing ‘objectification’ of Islam (Starrett 1998: 8): Islam became a ‘discipline’ in school that had to be studied, just as any other discipline, and accordingly had to be tested by examinations. As a consequence, Islamic disciplines of learning lost their polyvocal character and became ‘codified subjects’ (Starrett 1998: 9). Islam was taught more and more in a ‘systematic’ way through new didactics, for functional aims: it was developed into a textbook version of ‘Islamic knowledge’. An important aspect of reforms in the concept of Islamic education was the ‘functionalization’ of the madāris for the purposes of the state, which implied increasing formalization, standardization and homogenization of the system, of teaching and of the curricula, including the development of a syllabus of ‘Islamic Religious Instruction’ IRI). This led to a ‘comprehensive revision of the way Muslims treated Islam’ (Hefner/Zaman 2007: 12). Islam and the teaching of Islam became systematic and exclusive, the polyvocality 160 chapter four of former times and the negotiation of different paths of knowledge was replaced by ‘school definitions’ (Hefner/Zaman 2007: 12). The process of ‘objectification’ of Islam as a subject of standardized school learning was enhanced by print and other modern media which have tended to identify a precise set of beliefs, values, and practices. These were assumed to constitute a ‘normative and timeless Islam’. In a dialogue with the institutions of the bureaucratic state and its modernizing impulses, print media, including textbooks, began to acquire unique authority in modern Islamic education, while discussion and scholarly dispute lost their importance for defining content (Starrett 1998: 6; 95). Print media thus had a considerable share in the fixing of a tradition in one particular form. This again contributed to the objectification of Islam: a living tradition became enshrined, as, for instance, in ‘Anglo-Mohammedan Law’, which has come to be seen, first in India, later in Sudan and northern Nigeria (see Abun-Nasr 1993), as being ‘the sharīa’ which before had been viewed as an ‘ocean’, open to interpretation (Berkey 2007: 52). In modern times, the ocean of knowledge and seemingly never-ending interpretation had to be confined to a syllabus that was at the same time digestible and practicable for teaching to large numbers of students in a standardized form that would convey ‘marketable skills’. The 20th century debate about reform in education was thus linked with the question of ‘useful knowledge’ (al-ilm al-nāfi). New madāris were not a reaction against modernity however, but an effort to translate modernity into Muslim contexts (Starrett 1998: 56). Increasing awareness of the necessity of knowing ‘unfamiliar things’ had indeed been growing in India since the late 18th century, in Egypt and the Ottoman empire since the 19th century, and was linked with economic and political changes in a wider world of early European colonialism and the industrial revolution, which had already led to the development of new instructional methods in early 19th century England (Messick 1993: 102). These processes of change were again part of reform processes in 17th and 18th century Europe that had started with reforms of the military and the intensification of manufacturing production which implied disciplinization and standardization, as taught in the new elementary schools (Foucault 1994: 193). In both the new armies and the new factories all aspects of human agency were divided into small, exact and standardized units in order to reduce friction and loss of effectivity. This implied the development of the canon 161 control, examination and regularity, the ‘rationalization’ of drilling, learning and working. Processes of re-organization of education were associated with the early industrial revolution and the need for a new, skilled and disciplined workforce. In this context, Joseph Lancaster introduced new forms of school education, school designs and didactics in England in the early 19th century, which were characterized by a system of ‘monitoring’: senior students memorized texts by rote learning and then instructed their juniors. This system implied a rigid discipline, learning in strictly defined temporal units and a syllabus. From 1808, this method was implemented in England by the British & Foreign Schools Society, from 1811 by the National Society. Soon model schools were developed in the USA and in the colonies and stressed discipline, efficiency, supervision, control and differentiation of space, precise regulation and coordination of time and human activity. In other words, they introduced new notions and concepts of the temporal and spatial organization of a ‘school’ (Messick 1993: 102). Egypt started to be interested fairly early in European educational reforms in general and the Lancaster method in particular. In the 1820s, a group of twenty Egyptian students studied at Joseph Lancaster’s Central School in London, which was based, like all Lancaster schools, on a system of standardized rotational learning. Led by senior students, this permitted the drilling of large numbers of students in a comparatively short period of time (Mitchell 1988: 69). In 1839, the Lancaster model was formally introduced into Egypt by Ibrāhīm Adham, the government inspector of schools, factories, arsenals and workshops from 1839-1849. The first eight model schools (makātib al-milla) were opened in Cairo between 1843 and 1847, under the supervision of Rushdī Pasha, who, like Ibrāhīm Adham, had personally visited the Lancaster schools in England. Although they were closed down in 1849, after the death of Muammad Alī, they were reopened in 1863 under Khedive Ismā īl (Mitchell 1988: 71-74).5

5 While Egypt seems to have translated European disciplinary reforms into many social, economic and military spheres, one should not forget that these reforms were not as thorough as is sometimes claimed in the literature. The fact that modernizing regimes such as the Ottoman Empire and Egypt under Muammad Alī and the Khe- dives, and later, the British in their Empire, continued to rely on cooperation with the ulamā shows that the imposition of new (European) disciplinary regimes and new concepts of school and curricula was never complete, and that state control over education was limited (Fortna 2000: 22). Zanzibar, in particular, seems to have been a rather ‘un-disciplined’ Protectorate (see chapters 5 and 6). 162 chapter four

The new systems of drilling permitted the speedy transmission of ‘useful’ (marketable) skills to cohorts of students in a standardized and reproducible way (Messick 1993: 105). As a consequence, ‘education’ became a standardized ‘good’ that was guaranteed by law and regulated by the state through a system of regulations, fines and disciplinary measures. In these processes of reform, education became the leading edge in various efforts to transform Islam and the Muslim world, and these reforms implied formalization, larger madāris and uniformization of the canon (Berkey 2007: 46). Established madrasa education had a ‘conservative’ character as expressed in the importance of memorization and was perceived as ‘useless’ by Western observers who did not understand the social dimension of ‘rote learning’ (Berkey 2007: 46). Modern madāris, by contrast, introduced formal structures, a curriculum, classes, age-sets, standards of learning, ‘set sequences’ of both learning progress and subject matter, a group of teachers, timetables, benches, the blackboard and certificates. At the same time, the slate which recorded what had been memorized in a specific process of learning was replaced by the primer which amassed knowledge as copied from the blackboard and the textbook (Messick 1993: 105), although there was nothing intrin- sically ‘anti-individual’ about this process, even if it may be characterized as a form of standardization of the process of learning (Fortna 2000: 223). The ‘ocean’ of texts and interpretations was thus slowly replaced by ‘codified law’, codified forms of action and transaction, and in the process of codifying, codifying bodies, mostly administrators, bureaucrats and government scholars, established new bodies of texts which contained, as in the processes of reform in 19th century India or Egypt, ‘only the least contested and least controversial opinions and were composed in a manner which was sufficiently clear so that anyone could study (the text) easily…Accessibility in codes required that they be built in an orderly and regular fashion… Once central to vital intellectual culture, openness was now considered a drawback’ (Messick 1993: 56-7). Formerly, knowledge was acquired in an ‘initiatic process of study with an authorized teacher and spiritual men- tor’ (Brenner 2007: 220). In the 20th century, learning has become a standardized, open, depersonalized process of sequential learning in which learning has lost its sacred and initiatic character. Religious and secular subjects are increasingly taught side by side, and all knowledge has become equally available to everyone (Brenner 2007: the development of the canon 163

221). The master has become an instructor and has ceased to convey baraka (blessing). He has become an agent of a bureaucratic apparatus and is in charge of the reproduction of predefined matter by students. At the same time, a movement from ‘spiral’ to ‘linear’ can be observed: from writing in a spiral way and sitting in circles ( alqa) around the teacher master, to writing in lines and sitting in rows (aff) of benches in classrooms (Messick 1993: 248). Theulamā either rejected or tried to influence these processes of reform as they knew or sensed that it would lead to their marginalization (see Crecelius 1978). Their role in society depended on polyvocality. As soon as polyvocality was replaced by state organized ‘standards’, the ulamā would become superfluous.

4.2. Qur ānic Schools, madāris and alab al- ilm in Zanzibar: From ubao to Blackboard Until the late 19th century, the basic foundations of Islamic education on the East African Coast were provided by Qur ānic schools (kuttāb, pl. katātīb; Kiswahili: chuo, pl. vyuo) and the practice of alab al-ilm, the study of specific texts with respected masters of knowledge. A major feature of this system of education was its exclusive character: only few students continued their studies under a respected shaykh after graduating from Qur ānic school. The established system of learning on the East African coast was also characterized by a quest for consensus and uniformity. Deviations from that rule were seen as a danger. The establishment of a uniform code was considered to be more important than free debate (el-Zein 1974; IC72, 4.3.2001). In the late 19th century, however, Islamic learning experienced a significant transformation when new scholars, often affiliated with the Alawiyya, set up new schoolsmadāris ( ) that introduced new texts and new disciplines (Swahili: fenni) of learning. Alawī scholars increased the stress on Islamic law (fiqh) and the process of learning became more formalized (IC3, 13.3.2001). Even more important was that some of the new scholars opened their madāris to a wider public and that competition between different scholarly traditions increased. Islamic learning in Zanzibar thus lost its exclusivist character in the late 19th and early 20th centuries and became more polyvocal, for the time being (IC72, 4.3.2001).6 In the

6 From the late 19th century, by contrast to older centres of Islamic learning on the coast such as Mombasa or Lamu, Zanzibar came to know a spectrum of interre- 164 chapter four context of the reform movements of the 20th century, access to translocal debates as well as to a larger corpus of texts also became easier. Existing views on Islamic education were challenged, a process which resulted in the collapse of the monopoly on higher Islamic education that was exercised by a few scholars (IC72, 4.3.2001). In the context of these processes of social change, yet another form of Islamic education developed in the 1950s, namely that of the Islamic institute, the mahad, which was characterized by the formalization of education, as well as the introduction of Western forms of teaching, methods, school organization and syllabus design. The new ‘Islamic Religious Instruction’ (IRI) or diāna (‘Islamics’) syllabus, as this discipline was called in mid-20th century Zanzibar, usually had five subjects: Qur ān and adīth, qawā id al-Islām (the ‘rules’, basic principles of Islam), uūl al-dīn, sīra (the biography of the Prophet) and adab. Most of the texts for these subjects were still memorized, even though their content had changed, emphasizing aqīda, while adab, which had a wide meaning in classical Islamic education, increasingly came to be understood as the ‘rules of proper behaviour in public and private’ (Starrett 1998: 134). Muslim reformers regarded the development of a modern system of Islamic education as the only way to fight the Christianization, secularization and westernization of East African Muslim societies. The schools of the reformers not only taught Islamic disciplines as they were taught in Egypt or Saudi Arabia, but they also introduced disciplines that were taught in the colonial and post-colonial government schools. The schools of the reformers thus competed with both the established Qur ānic schools and the madāris of the prominent local scholars, as well as with government schools. While the Qur ānic schools represented local traditions of teaching that initiated Muslim children into communal social and religious life, the schools of the reformers sought to provide ‘marketable skills’ for a larger world. As communal structures were often regarded as obsolete by Muslim reformers, they attacked the Qur ānic schools as symbols of a social order that was no longer able, in their eyes, to prepare Muslims for a modern world that required such ‘marketable skills’. This attitude has to be seen as a radical break with the past, when the acquisition lated canons of learning that had been imported only recently from Brawa, Hadra- maut, the Comoros and Oman. These imported traditions were primarily based on Arabic texts, while local traditions in Lamu or Mombasa relied more on a tradition of learning in Kiswahili (IC95, 17.12.2004). the development of the canon 165 of Islamic knowledge was seen as a form of initiation into society, and the process of memorization of the Qur ān, as well as the practice of alab al-ilm, as a way of acquiring ‘social skills’.7 As the madāris constituted a sphere of transition between the Qur ānic schools and the modern ‘institutes’ of the reformers, control of the madāris was heavily contested and often central to local disputes. In these disputes, the defenders of established traditions of learning as well as the representatives of Islamic reform tried to present their specific concepts of education as particularly authentic. In the pre-colonial and early colonial period, Qur ānic schools (Kiswahili: chuo, pl. vyuo) in Zanzibar were also often called darsa/ darāsa and sometimes even madrasa, although the term madrasa was usually associated with advanced learning. A chuo was maintained by the teacher and his family, or, when connected to a mosque, by a waqf, a charitable foundation (Turki 1987: 58). The essential objective of Qur ānic school education was to impart ‘social skills’ and to develop good manners (adab). This goal was achieved through memorization (ta fī) of the Qur ān, and by learning how to read and write in Arabic, which was the language of instruction. For a long time, learning in Qur ānic schools was the only way of transmit- ting Islamic learning from generation to generation (Ziddy 2001: 11). Before the emergence of government schools from the 1920s, the chuo usually had two sessions, one in the morning from the time after sunrise (fajr, ub ) and breakfast to noon or uhr prayers, and one in the afternoon until ar (afternoon) prayers, except for Thursday afternoon and all of Friday (Turki 1987: 60). Evening classes for children took place between maghrib (evening) and ishā (night) prayers. Basic skills such as memorization of the Qur ān, however, were taught in the early morning and in the afternoon between ar and maghrib prayers. Evenings were mostly reserved for advanced studies: after ishā prayers, adults would have their

7 The term ‘social skills’ refers here to a deeper dimension of Islamic education, namely the way in which ‘Islamic skills’, in particular, knowledge of the Qur ān, are translated into quotidian contexts, political discourses or religious debates (see Launay 1992: 92 ff). Through processes of translation of internalized (‘incorporated’) Islamic skills into social contexts which convey social respectability, Islamic learning acquired social relevance (‘Wirkmächtigkeit’) and meaning. ‘Marketable skills’ are defined here as skills (such as English, arithmetic, accountancy) that were viewed by both the British and the revolutionary government of Zanzibar as essential to provide technical and administrative qualifications. By contrast to the social skills mediated by Islamic education, ‘marketable skills’ did not necessarily convey social respectability. 166 chapter four classes in different mosques and recite the rātib al-addād or other Sufi manuals. Only a few classes for senior students would take place after uhr or after ar, except in the month of Ramadan, when the teaching of advanced texts would take place after uhr and after ar prayers. When government schools started, hourly schedules became increasingly important, and teaching in the Qur ānic schools shifted to the afternoon and evening, while morning classes had to be abandoned almost completely (except on Saturdays and Sundays) for the sake of government school timetables. Teaching in Qur ānic schools would thus last from around 7.30am until 12.00 for small children who did not yet attend a government school, and would continue from 2pm to 4pm or even 5pm. Children who attended a government school would go to Qur ānic classes on Saturdays and Sundays. However, even Saturdays and Sundays were increasingly used for Saturday and Sunday classes in the late colonial and early revolutionary period. As a result, time slots for Qur ānic schools became smaller and smaller up to the 1970s. Some children still attended Qur ānic schools in the morning before they went to a government school, or, if they attended a government school, they went to the Qur ānic school in the evening, on Saturdays and Sundays, or in the holidays (see chapter 9). Before the 1920s, parents would send their children, both boys and girls, to the Qur ānic school from the age of six or even earlier, up to the age of about nine or ten. When girls reached the age of about nine or ten, they were taken out of the chuo and had to take over household chores and wear the buibui ( ijāb), until they were married (Turki 1987: 57). At times, Qur ān teachers had assistants (musāidūn; wanafunzi wakubwa), senior students who supported the teacher as soon as they had memorized the Qur ān. The teacher (Kiswahili: mwalimu, pl. walimu), who often had other occupations as well, did not get a salary. Equally, school fees (rusūm) were not known. However, students paid an ‘entrance fee’, called ufito (lit. cane), usually 2-3 rupees, that were given to the teacher to buy a cane for disciplinary purposes, but were mostly used for his living. After the memorization of the first part of the Qur ān, the juz amma (see below), the students would again pay a fee and this would continue for each step of learning, such as the memorization of half of the Qur ān, when a small feast was organized and the teacher got two rupees or more, and when students had completed memorizing the Qur ān. Then, another feast, often a mawlid, was organized, students the development of the canon 167 dressed nicely and would eat good food, while the teacher received a final fee as agreed earlier with the parents, often more than 20 rupees. In addition, the teacher got some small amounts of money each Thursday, the paisa za alhamisi (Turki 1987: 69; Ziddy 2001: 15). Finally, the teacher profited from the work of the children in his fields and house, and from what his wife earned by cooking for the students, although students usually brought their own food (Ziddy 2001: 15). Students also made firewood, cultivated the garden, did the laundry, cleaned house, did some cooking or carried water. In addition, walimu received presents from their community on days such as the īd al-fir, or got presents for mawlid recitations. Apart from teaching and the management of religious ceremonies, ritual and prayer, some teachers would increase their income by producing amulets (hirizi) or specialized in healing, while others practiced uganga (protection magic) or exorcism (pungwa wa pepo) (Pouwels 1987: 91; Turki 1987: 69). Qur ānic schools in town were often better equipped and when the students had completed their studies there, they had a better chance to continue their education and to study advanced texts due to the presence of numerous urban scholars, although only a few students actually pursued this course. In urban schools, the teacher also got a monthly fee from the parents of the students (Ziddy 2001: 15). All Qur ānic schools allowed punishment of students, in particular as far as the memorization of the holy word of God was concerned. If they made mistakes, students had to stay after class or had to balance a stone on top of their head. If the stone fell, they were fettered in chains or ropes until they had learned the lesson (IC72, 4.3.2001; Ziddy 2001: 14-15). The acquisition of religious knowledge as such was organized in two steps. In a first phase that lasted between five and seven years, the student had to study under a specific scholar, amwinyi chuoni, a ‘master of school’, who in the 19th century often belonged to the group of patrician Waungwana. As a proof of his erudition, such a mwinyi chuoni could show an ijāza, an ‘authorization’, as acquired from his master, for the teaching of a specific text. The first phase of teaching and learning focused on the Arabic language, basic rules of Arab grammar, and memorization of the Qur ān, as well as the foundations of the Islamic catechism, and ritual prescriptions (prayer, ablution, fasting, etc.) that were described in respective aqīda-texts. The memorization of the Qur ān proper was a process that lasted from three to six or seven years. In the process of memorization, the 168 chapter four teacher first started to teach single Arabic characters in the alphabet, a process which lasted from three to ten months, then moved to the combination of letters and the construction of words, but usually without explaining their meaning (Ziddy 2001: 12). Then followed first exercises in memorization of the Qur ān on anubao , a lau , a wooden slate. The memorization of the Qur ān proper started with the sūrat al-fāti a, the first sūra which was technically part of the first ‘part’ (juz ) of the Qur ān, but was regarded, in the process of memorization, as part of the 30th juz of the Qur ān which was memorized first. The teacher taught how to read and write the single verses (āyāt) of the first sūra properly, and students would then start with the process of memorization. In Kiswahili, this process of memorization of the Qur ān was called hitima, while somebody who had acquired the ability to recite the Qur ān was called hitimu (khatama, .(to complete, to seal; khatma, the recitation of the entire Qur ān ,ﺧﺘﻢ The 30th juz of the Qur ān comprised, apart from the sūrat al-fāti a, the last section (juz ) of the Qur ān from sūra 114 (sūrat al-nās) to -Due to the impor .(ﺳﻮﺭﺓ ﻋﻢ , or sūrat amma sūra 78 (sūrat al-nabā tance of the sūrat amma, which concluded the 30th juz of the Qur ān and the first step of the memorization of the Qur ān, this first step was called juz amma.8 After the juz amma, the students continued with memorization of the next juz , the 29th juz (sūras 77-67) and so on, until they reached the sūrat al-baqara that formed the second juz of the Qur ān (see Loimeier 2001; Turki 1987). The method of memorizing was incremental, new material being added to matter students had already memorized (from a-b-c to a-b-c-d).9 Simultaneously, the students would learn poems (qaā id), in particular poems connected with the mawlid al-nabī, a tradition cultivated by the Qur ānic schools in East Africa since the late 19th century. In Zanzibar, the complete text of the Qur ān was memorized

8 Since the spread of printed copies of the Qur ān, memorization of the juz amma was supported by a textbook titled al-qāida al-baghdādiyya (‘the Bagdadian method’). This textbook trained students to recite properly (usually in a chorus) until they could read and pronounce Arabic words correctly before starting with the memorization of the juz amma (IC3, 22.9.2008; IC28, 31.3.2008; IC73, 3.10.2008). 9 Theqirā a (reading) of the Qur ān which was most popular in East Africa was the qirā a of Dūrī ( an Abī Amr) and not the Warsh ( an Nāfi ) reading as in the Maghrib or in West Africa, due to the historical importance of the qirā a of Dūrī in Yemen and Somalia. The reading of afs ( an Āim) has only recently become more popular, following a trend in other parts of the Islamic world in the 20th century (Seesemann 1999: 48). the development of the canon 169 only rarely in the past. Children usually studied the sūrat al-fāti a and the juz amma, and only advanced students would memorize the whole text. Only recently has the ta fī of the whole Qur ān become more popular (IC73, 4.3.2003; 25.7.2003; IC26, 10.3.2003 and Turki 1987: 66). After memorizing the Qur ān, students would continue their education in a second stage of education by studying basic catechetic texts (see below, 4.3.), but also simple Sufi manuals such as the rātib al-addād and then complete their studies with the adīth-collection of al-Nawawī (Turki 1987: 62; Ziddy 2001: 12; IC26, 10.3.2003). Thus, students did not study one discipline after the other and progress from Qur ān to, for instance, fiqh, adīth and taawwuf, but, rather, they first studied simple and small texts, the so-called mabādi -texts, and then bigger and more advanced texts in different disciplines at the same time. Of particular importance in the early stages of study was ilm at-tajwīd, the techniques required for proper recitation of the Qur ān. These included the different arakāt (speeds) of recitation, such as tartīl (slow, psalmodizing), tadwīr (medium, moderate) and adr (fast). Tajwīd was very popular and also formed part of the canon of alab al-ilm for senior students (IC52, 10.8.2002). When looking at the corpus of texts (Swahili: kitabu, pl. vitabu) that were taught in the madāris at the more advanced stages of learning, it is necessary to differentiate between basic texts, the muqarrarāt, that were studied by most students, and specific texts that intensified scholarship and led to special branches (furū) but were studied by only a few students and scholars in the madāris, and finally, texts that were studied by individual scholars as part of their individual alab al-ilm (‘search for knowledge’; IC73, 25.7.2003). After memorization of the Qur ān and learning of the Arabic script, students would continue and most often complete their education in Qur ānic schools with the mabādi , simple introductory texts on ibādāt (the regulations in Islamic law regarding religious observances), aqīda and fiqh. Such texts were the aqīdat al-awāmm, hidāyat al-ikhwān or the kitāb al-zubad. Until the 1920s, the major introductory works in these fields were themuqaddima al- a ramiyya and the risālat al-jāmia. Thedurar al-bahiyya has also been influential since the late 19th century for teaching the basics of fiqh, due to the influence of Abdallāh Bā Kathīr al-Kindī (IC73, 25.7.2003; see 4.3.). Only after having studied, and often memorized these texts would students then continue to a new stage of advanced learning with other small 170 chapter four texts in disciplines such as adīth, tafsīr, taw īd and tajwīd. However, students would not start to study the major works of these disciplines, such as, for instance, in tafsīr, the famous work by al-Maallī and al-Suyūī, the tafsīr al-jalālayn, or the umm al-barāhīn by al-Sanūsī. Rather, they would start, as has been stated above, with small texts of an introductory, summarizing and/or didactic nature, often titled mukhtaarāt (abbreviations), as well as numerous small treatises on aqīda, or famous introductory texts to a specific discipline that were often written by the masters of that discipline themselves, and then proceed to larger compilations, and finally to the ummuhāt, the ‘mother texts’. For each mother text there were commentaries (shar , pl. shurū ) and super-commentaries ( āshiya, pl. awāshin), which could have their own glossaries (taālīq) and abstracts (taqārīr). However, these texts would remain in the hands of the teachers (IC73, 4.3.2003). Only when they had memorized the Qur ān, or major parts of it, would students proceed to larger texts, often larger versions of the texts they had studied in the beginning, mostly concentrating on ibādāt and muāmalāt (the regulations in Islamic law governing social relations and transactions), and then proceed to the ‘mother- texts’, the ummuhāt, of the different disciplines. These texts would vary from school to school, and while some texts were studied in certain madāris, others were not and had to be studied at other places. This characteristic feature of the established system of education enhanced the tradition of alab al-ilm. A student could thus continue in his alab al-ilm, his search for knowledge, for another four or five or six years, or even longer, by joining the alqa (circle of students) of a scholar who was known to be an expert for the teaching and interpretation of a specific text in a specific discipline such as fiqh or a subdivision of fiqh, or other disciplines such as adīth, ibb, mad , tafsīr and taw īd or, later on, taawwuf, but also na w, lugha, arf, arū , sīra, mawlid, ta rīkh (history), bayān or tajwīd (see al-Farsy 1972, as well as el-Zein 1974: 33-4, Meunier 1997: 121 and Purpura 1997: 210). Generally, however, it may be said that basic disciplines such as Qur ān and fiqh were studied earlier than tafsīr, taawwuf, or even falsafa, which were part of highly advanced studies. Also, only advanced students, often those who had already become religious scholars themselves, would, as a last step, study the voluminous compendia of fiqh, tafsīr and taawwuf literatures proper. Sometimes, only a few copies of these texts existed. In many cases, the development of the canon 171 these texts were no longer known in contemporary Zanzibar (IC73, 4.3.2003). After completing his studies, a scholar would eventually be ‘tur- baned’ in a solemn ceremony. The turbaning ceremony (kilemba) took place in the juma mosque in front of a ‘jury’ (majlis) of scholars and the public. The candidates had to recite, read and comment on the Qur ān, but also expound on fiqh and other disciplines. Usually, only children of the ulamā and the rich would take up higher studies with specific teachers for these disciplines (Pouwels 1987: 88). In the course of his own alab al-ilm, a student had already the opportunity to start his own career as a teacher and to issue ijāzāt to those students who came to him to study a specific text, while at the same time acquiring further ijāzāt for other texts and thus rising in the hierarchy of scholars. The young scholar was still subject, though, to the social control of other scholars, who were entitled to recall their ijāzāt should one of their students cross the limits of the consensus of scholars (el-Zein 1974: 35). The established system of Islamic education also knew female scholars. Many male scholars have indeed memorized the Qur ān under female scholars. Women often took over the Qur ānic schools of their deceased husbands and continued to teach in them (IC72, 4.3.2001 and Ziddy 2001: 16). This practice was particularly common among Comorian scholars, who had many Qur ānic schools in Zanzibar, especially in the Ng’ambo areas of Kikwajuni, Funguni and Kisiwandui (Aley 1994: n.pag.). More recently, female study groups have developed that are led by female scholars and attest to the growing importance of Islamic education for women (Purpura 1997: 226ff). In the process of learning presented so far, most of the texts were imported from Egypt, mostly through the bookshop of Muafā al-Bābī al-alabī in Cairo, from the late 19th century onward. In addition, every scholar would try to build his own library, often by copying texts. Before the 19th century, texts were rarely written down as vitabu, however, but memorized. As each discipline started with a short text the students were obliged to acquire them. Every student would work with his own text and only those who had books of their own were regarded as ‘real’ students in the alqa of the master. Students who came together only occasionally to read or discuss a specific text and to get advice from a teacher, would be viewed as meeting their master on a muwāada (lit. rendez-vous) basis, a practice which was widespread and continues to be so to this 172 chapter four day (Purpura 1997: 220). Such students were known as ‘listeners’ (IC73, 4.3.2003). The practice of alab al-ilm and the study of Islamic disciplines under the guidance of a well-known Islamic religious scholar in his alqa was thus the second pillar of Islamic education as known and established in Zanzibar in the late 19th and early 20th centuries. During the late 19th and early 20th centuries, Islamic learning came to be increasingly institutionalized in the context of a number of Islamic reform movements that were affiliated with scholars of the Alawiyya as well as those of the Qādiriyya and Shādhiliyya. In the context of subsequent movements of reform, new schools (madāris) were established that not only introduced new books and disciplines but also started a process of formalization of education that was inspired by similar processes of educational reform that had started in Egypt in the 1870s and were then taken up by reformist scholars in the Hadramaut (see Freitag 1999a). These madāris were to play an important role in the development of Islamic education in East Africa in the 20th century. As a consequence, new centres of Islamic education developed in East Africa such as the Ribā al-Riyā a in Lamu, the madrasa of Abdallāh Bā Kathīr in Ukutani/Zanzibar (for the Ribā al-Riyā a see el-Zein 1974, for the Madrasat Bā Kathīr see chapter 9) or the Madrasat Hidāyat al-Islāmiyya of Burhan Iddi (B73) in Raha Leo (Ng’ambo). The process of formalization in the 20th century introduced a formalized system of entrance fees and regular school fees. In the old Qur ānic school system, children wrote on ubao and sat on the floor. In the course of the 20th century, tables and chairs were introduced and the ubao (slate, lau ) was replaced by the primer, while the lectern of the master was replaced by the blackboard. Also, marketable skills came to be stressed more than social skills. Better equipped Qur ānic schools were increasingly called madāris, although the terms chuo and madrasa could still be applied interchangeably. Contemporary madāris have acquired the outlook of government schools, not only with respect to the ‘syllabus’, but also with respect to the design of buildings and classrooms, the importance of a blackboard for teaching, as well as new temporal structures: while a student in a Qur ānic school would proceed to the next step in learning as soon as he had mastered the last, progress in modern madāris was defined by the temporal structure of both synchronized and standardized learning within the framework of a syllabus which provided for exactly defined temporal units of the development of the canon 173

teaching, usually 40-50 minutes, nowadays 35 minutes. Individual rhythm, structured by the adhān, has thus been replaced by the rhythm of minutes and hours, and the exigencies of a syllabus that has to be studied by all in the same period of time. Individual rhythm has been replaced by collective rhythm and the circle ( alqa) has been replaced by the row (aff). In pedagogical terms, this transformation in Islamic education could be characterized as a move from charismatic and personalized education characterized by the paramount role of a scholar-educator, to institutionalized learning characterized by the paramount importance of an educational apparatus consisting of school buildings, a body of teachers and a syllabus.

4.3. The Canon ofalab al- ilm-Studies: The Early 20th Century When looking at the ‘curriculum’ of Islamic education and, in particular the texts that were taught in the different disciplines in the late 19th and early 20th centuries and probably earlier, it is important to see that the East African coast formed part of a greater network of Islamic teaching traditions that was characteristic for the world of the Indian ocean. Thus, the study of the Qur ān and the disciplines connected with the exegesis and interpretation of the Qur ān were a dominant feature of East African scholarship. In addition, and this was made clear by Carl Heinrich Becker and al-Farsy in their studies of Islamic teaching traditions on the East African coast (Becker 1911; al-Farsy 1944/72), the works of the Shāfi ī school of law were prominent, at least with respect to the majority of Sunni Muslim communities, although Becker also found the important works of the Ibā ī school as well as those of the Ithnā ashara and Ismā īlī legal traditions. An overview of the corpus of texts shows that, for most of the time in question, major influences came from Egypt, which has to be regarded as the most important centre of Shāfi ī scholarship. Secondly, Syria, the Hijaz, Yemen/Hadramaut, Iran and finally also the west coast of India have been important sources of inspiration for East African Shāfi ī scholarship. A less important point of orientation were the bilād al-maghrib, from where only a few texts came, mostly on na w and aqīda (see below). With respect to Zanzibar, the canon of Islamic learning as recorded by Becker was accepted by the late 19th century and was bound up with the establishment of the Sultanate, but not older than that, due to the fact that Zanzibar 174 chapter four

(town), by contrast to other places on the coast, had been founded only recently (Pouwels 1987: 87). A general overview of the canon of religious studies as conducted until the early 1920s, as well as in private study circles to this day, comprises a number of steps of learning that were linked with respective texts. In the following paragraphs, the course of Islamic education in Zanzibar will be shown as it was structured in the early decades of the 20th century with respect to both progress in learning and the organization of disciplines. First, the small texts will be presented, the mabādi , that were studied by all children in Qur ānic schools that most children attended for the first stage of their education. Then texts will be introduced that were studied at more advanced levels, and finally a list of those texts that were not studied at all in the context of madrasa education, but which were read by individual scholars. These approximately 230 texts were known in Zanzibar’s scholarly circles and formed the scholarly canon in the late 19th and early 20th centuries, even if no scholar knew all of these texts and even if only a minority of these texts, probably fifteen to twenty basic texts were taught in madāris. These basic texts could be said to form a ‘teaching canon’. In addition to the corpus of texts studied in Qur ānic schools and madāris, many more texts were known to individual scholars and formed a larger educational (Bildungs-)canon. The next chapter will then present the canon of Islamic studies as it existed at the beginning of the 21st century.10 All texts quoted below have got two numbers, the first to identify them for a specific stage and/or discipline of learning, the second, in brackets and consecutive numbers, to make their identification as well as cross-references within the corpus of texts easier. It has to be mentioned, however, that some texts which were taught in one discipline were also taught in other related fields such as taawwuf, adab, mad , qaīda and na w. Islamic fields of learning should thus be seen as interrelated rather than as compartmentalized disciplines.

10 Basic information for chapters 4.3. and 4.4. was gained in a series of conversations with Yunus A. Sameja, Mwalimu Idris, Masoud Amad Shani and Abdulkadir Hashim. Additional information came from Becker (1911), volume IIIb of the ‘Ara- bic Literature of Africa’ (forthcoming), as far as possible from Brockelmann’s Geschichte der Arabischen Literatur (GAL, 1898 and 1935-42 editions) including sup- plements (S), and finally al-Farsy 1972 and van Bruinessen 1990. Yunus A. Sameja provided a list of basic texts as taught in Zanzibar in the established syllabus of the early 20th century, and gave me several extensive private lectures on this list in 2003 and 2004. the development of the canon 175

After memorization of the Qur ān (al-mu af al-sharīf, the noble text, 1), students would start to study a number of small introductory (mabādi ) texts, mostly on uūl al-dīn, fiqh, focusing on ibādāt, but also some other disciplines. For these mabādi , the teacher would consult the respective shar and/or āshiya. These texts are listed below immediately after the primary text and form a ‘family of texts’. Although most of these basic texts were almost identical, each ‘added’ something in an incremental manner or had a slightly different focus. As a consequence, these texts were studied one after the other. Even today, many of these texts are still available in Zanzibar’s Islamic bookshops and are offered by numerous street vendors. A first basic text, apart from the Qur ān, was: 1a (2) risālat al-jāmia wa-tadhkirat al-nāfia baina uūl al-dīn wa- l-fiqh, by Amad b. Zayn al-ibshī, 1658-1733 (GAL S II: 814); according to al-Farsy, this text was widespread. For the risālat al-jāmia, the teacher would consult 1b (3) bahjat al-wasā il bi-shar al-masā il, by Muammad b. Umar b. Arabī Nawawī al-Jāwī al-Bantanī (d. 1888, GAL II: 651; S II: 813/4; see below and under taawwuf; as well as van Bruinessen 1990). 2a (4) irshād al-muslimīn li-ahammī furū al-dīn, commonly known as ‘bābu’, by an unknown author, probably from Shela, Kenya; the father of Amad b. Sumay wrote a shar on this text, titled al-tiryāq al-nāfi min aman (see Bang 2003: 217 and below, 5). For the irshād al-muslimīn, the teacher would consult 2b (5) al-tiryāq al-nāfi min aman by Abūbakar b. Abdallāh b. Abd al-Ramān b. Sumay. 3a (6) safīnat al-najā fī uūl al-dīn wa-l-fiqh, by Sālim b. Abdallāh b. Sa īd Samīr al-Khu rī al-a ramī (fl. 19th century; d. c. 1855, GAL II: 651; S II: 813); for the safīnat al-najā , the teacher would consult 3b (7) nail al-rajā by Muammad al-Shāirī. 4a (8) al-muqaddima al- a ramiyya fī fiqh al-sāda al-shāfiiyya, by Abdallāh b. Abd al-Ramān Bā Fa l al-a ramī (fl. 10th/16th century; GAL S II: 555); a major introductory text and according to Becker widespread in East Africa, but no longer available today; this text was also known as mukhtaar al-aghīr or as mukhtaar al-fiqh. 176 chapter four

For the muqaddima al- a ramiyya, the teacher would consult several texts, namely 4b (9) al-fawā id al-mar iyya, by Muammad b. Abdallāh b. Demirdāsh (d. 1595; GAL S I: 765) 4c (10) shar mukhtaar al-fiqh, by Shihāb al-Dīn Amad b. Muammad b. Alī b. ajar (Ibn ajar) al-Haytamī (d. 1565; GAL II: 387ff; S II: 527); ashar on the muqaddima Bā Fa l, according to al-Farsy a widespread text (see below); he also wrote al-fat al-mubīn fī shar al-arbaīn (see below). 4d (11) al-manhaj al-qawīm fī shar masā il al-talīm, another shar on the muqaddima al- a ramiyya by Ibn ajar al-Haytamī; this text was also a basic text in fiqh (see below), or: 4e (12) bushr al-karīm bi-shar masā il al-talīm alā al-muqaddima al- a ramiyya, by Sa īd b. Muammad Bā Ashin (Bā ashwān?) al-a ramī, another shar on the muqaddima. 5a (13) al-riyā al-badīa fī uūl al-dīn wa-ba furū al-sharīa, by Muammad b. Sulaymān asaballāh, an Egyptian scholar who lived in the Hijaz (fl. 19th century; GAL II: 651; S II: 813; also Becker 1911, al-Farsy 1972 and van Bruinessen 1990), a small booklet for students that was not very popular, yet part of the syllabus. For the al-riyā al-badīa, the teacher would consult 5b (14) al-thimār al-yānia, by Muammad al-Nawawī al-Jāwī (see 3 and below). 6a (15) al-durar al-bahiyya, by Sayyid Bakrī Abūbakar b. Uthmān b. Muammad Shaā al-Shāfi ī (1849/50-1893), an Egyptian scholar who lived in the Hijaz (GAL II: 650; S II: 811; according to al-Farsy a widespread text on aqīda, īmān and the uūl al-dīn, which became part of the government school syllabus (see below and chapter 9); for the durar al-bahiyya, the teacher would consult 6b (16) al-anwār al-saniyya alā l-durar al-bahiyya, by Abd al-amīd Quds b. Muammad b. Alī al-Shāfi ī (GAL S II: 814), a student of Sayyid Bakrī Shaā . 7a (17) kitāb al-zubad fī l-taw īd wa-l-fiqh wa-l-taawwuf, by Shihāb al-Dīn Amad b. assan b. Raslān al-Ramlī al-Qudsī (d. 1441; GAL II: 118; S II: 113); an important text, a ‘ver- sification’ in 1000 rajaz-verses of the kitāb kanz al-zubad as composed by Sharaf al-Dīn al-Bārizī (1247-1338; GAL II: 105; S II: 101), yet no longer available today. For the kitāb al-zubad, the teacher would consult the development of the canon 177

7b (18) mawāhib al-amad, by Amad (b. al-Shaykh) b. ijāzī al-Fashnī al-abbī (fl. 2nd half of 10th/16th century, d. 1570; GAL I: 499; II: 393; S II: 416; see also 26 and 27) 7c (19) ghāyat al-bayān, by Shams al-Dīn b. Muammad b. Shihāb al-Dīn b. Amad b. amza al-Ramlī al-Anārī (d. 1596); this commentary of the kitāb al-zubad was possibly based on an earlier commentary by his father, the fat al-ra mān (see below). Apart from these introductory texts, a teacher would introduce other small texts and short versions of texts on īmān and ibādāt as well as other disciplines, such as tajwīd, na w or adīth: 1 (20) aqīdat al-awāmm, a rhymed text on the principles of taw īd by Amad al-Marzūqī al-Mālikī al-Makkī al-Lau ā ī (fl. 19th century, d. c. 1864); according to Becker, a widespread text on taw īd, yet no longer available today (see also van Bruinessen 1990; GAL S II: 990). 2 (21) al-muqaddima al-ājurrūmiyya fī ilm al-arabiyya, by Imām Abū Abdallāh Muammad b. Muammad al-anhājī b. Ājurrūm, (d. 1323; GAL II: 308; S II: 332ff) on na w, often sold with the shar and usually printed in one booklet only: 3 (22) ‘al-da lān’, by Amad b. Zaynī b. Amad Dalān (d. 1886; GAL II: 649; S II: 810; on him see also Freitag 2003: 202ff), a commentary on the ājurrūmiyya, also known as shar al-ājurrūmiyya, according to al-Farsy a widespread text. Amad b. Zaynī Dalān also wrote a polemic against the Wahhābiyya titled (23) al-durrar al-sanniyya fī l-radd alā l-wahhābiyya, which was widespread in East Africa but not used for teaching. 4 (24) talīm al-mutaallim arīq al-taallum, by Burhān al-Islām (or Burhān al-Dīn) al-Zarnūjī (d. 1223; GAL I: 606; S I: 837), a short but extremely popular text on the principles of learning. Often, this text was taught immediately after themuqaddima al- a ramiyya. Interestingly enough, another major text on techniques and manners of learning, tadhkirat al-sāmia wa-l-mutakallim fī adab al-ālim wa-l-mutaallim by Badr al-Dīn Muammad b. Jamā a (fl. early 14th century) was not known or used in Zanzibar. 178 chapter four

5 (25) hidāyat al-mustafīd, by Muammad al-Mamūd al-Najjār. The major text for tajwīd (see below), however, was the kitāb fī-ilm al-tajwīd by Imām Muammad b. Idrīs al-Shāfi ī (see 65). 6a (26) kitāb (or ‘matn’) al-arbaīn, by Abū Zakariyyā Yayā b. Sharaf b. Muyī al-Dīn (al-Dimashqī) al-Nawawī (d. 1277/8; GAL I: 496; S I: 680). In this case, the teacher would consult Amad (b. al-Shaykh) b. ijāzī al-Fashnī’s (see 18) shar , namely 6b (27) al-majālis al-saniyya fī l-kalām alā l-arbaīn al-nawawiyya, as well as 6c (28) at-tu fa al-mar iyya fī l-akhbār al-Qudsiyya, by Abd al-Majīd Alī (d. 1885); see also below under adīth. 7 (29) majmūat thalātha rasā il, by Abū Sa īd al-Khādimī, a text in three parts, namely, the mukhtaar fī-bayān al-īmān wa-l- Islām wa-l-sunna alā madhhab al-Imām al-Shāfiī; the a ādīth al-qudsiyya; and uūl al-dīn; 8 (30) majmū arbaīn rasā il by Amad b. Zaynī Dalān (see 22). After this second stage, students would proceed to a third stage and focus on the major and larger texts in different disciplines. From now on, the presentation of these texts will be done by disciplines. Within each discipline, the progression is from matn to shar to āshiya, as well as from one family of related texts to the next.

a. fiqh In the late 19th and early 20th centuries, fiqh-related disciplines such as ibādāt, muāmalāt, Shāfi ī law in general, uūl al-fiqh and commentaries (shurū ) plus super-commentaries ( awāshī) were an essential part of advanced studies. Again, students in fiqh would start with small introductory texts, and proceed after these basic studies to study the ummuhāt, the ‘mothers’ of Shāfi ī law. The sequence depended on the specific school and scholar. Only teachers would consult commentaries and super-commentaries, while students would have the basic text (matn). A major question with respect to the canon of texts, however, was the question as to which madhhab was relevant for a specific scholar. Northern India was thus largely anafī, while Southern India was largely Shāfi ī. Shāfi ī writings in Zanzibar were thus of Egyptian, Hadrami or Southern Indian origin the development of the canon 179

(IC73, 12.8.2002). As most of the works on fiqh in East Africa came from Shāfi ī ulamā from the Hadramaut, Egypt or India, Becker even speaks of an ‘Indian Ocean Schriftenkreis’ (‘family of texts’; Becker 1911: 22) which was formative for the development of Islamic law in East Africa. With respect to the texts of the Shāfi ī madhhab, both Becker and al-Farsy mention Abū Zakariyyā Muyī al-Dīn Yayā b. Sharaf b. al-Nawawī’s minhāj al-ālibīn and the commentaries on that central treatise of the Shāfi ī school of law, in particular Ibn ajar al-Haytamī’s tu fat al-mu tāj li-shar al-minhaj and al-Ramlī’s nihāya. These two texts have, in fact, become the major texts for Shāfi ī law since the 16th century in most parts of the Indian Ocean (for slight differences in comparison with Java, see van Bruinessen 1990). In addition, a number of smaller works were known and taught, such as Abdallāh b. Abd al-Ramān Bā Fa l al-a ramī’s work al-muqaddima al- a ramiyya fī fiqh al-sāda al-shāfiiyya that was often also known under the abbreviation mukhtaar and was of major importance for Shāfi ī teaching traditions on the coast. The mukhtaar was again connected with a number of commentaries (such as minhāj al-qawim) as well as sub-commentaries (Becker 1911: 20). In addition to this complex of Shāfi ī writings there were other Shāfi ī works such as Abū Shujā ’s taqrīb (ghāyat al-ikhtiār) and the commentaries connected with this work, for instance the fat al-qarīb by Ibn Qāsim and the āshiya by al-Bājūrī (see below, 33). Other commentaries on Shāfi ī law were written by Shihāb al-Dīn Amad b. Lu lu b. al-Naqīb al-Rūmī al-Mirī, in particular his treatise umdat al-sālik wa-uddat al-nāsik and the commentaries connected with this work (Becker 1911: 22). Again the teacher might consult the commentaries and super-commentaries on these texts. The major texts for the advanced study of fiqh, as well as their commentaries, were: 1a (31) kitāb al-taqrīb (or ghāyat al-ikhtiār), by Abū Shujā Amad b. al-usayn Taqī al-Dīn al-Ifahānī (d. 1106; GAL S I: 492; S I: 676), a work often called taqrīb or taqrīb fī l-fiqh or, finally, mukhtaar fī l-fiqh alā madhhab al-īmām al-shāfiī; according to Becker widespread in East Africa. The teacher would consult, in addition: 1b (32) fat al-qarīb al-mujīb, by Muammad b. Qāsim al-Ghazzī al-Gharābīlī (d. 1512; GAL I: 492; S II: 440), a shar on the taqrīb of Abū Shujā ; according to al-Farsy widespread, or, 180 chapter four

1c (33) āshiya alā fat al-qarīb, by Ibrāhīm b. Muammad al-Bājūrī (or Bayjūrī, Bījūrī; d. 1861, GAL I: 492; II: 639; S II: 741, also above and below; on the Bījūrī-tradition of the 15th century in Cairo see Berkey 1992: 87ff), or alternatively 1d (34) kitāb al-iqnā (‘Iknai’), by Muammad b. Muammad al-Khaīb al-Shirbīnī (d. 1569, see also 53; GAL I: 493; II: 416); a commentary on the kitāb al-taqrīb and a text that was used only for reference or by advanced students. The text was also linked to a number of commentaries (see 60 and 61), and finally 1e (35) kifāyat al-akhyār fī shar (ghāyat) al-taqrīb, by Taqī al-Dīn Abī Bakr b. Muammad al-inī al-Dimashqī (d. 1426; GAL I: 492; II: 117; S II: 112, a very popular shar on the kitāb al-taqrīb, but used by teachers only. 2a (36) fat al-qarīb al-mujīb, by Muammad b. Qāsim al-Ghazzī al-Gharābīlī (see 32), this text was also used as a commentary on the kitāb al-taqrīb (see 31). In addition, the teacher would consult the 2b (37) āshiya alā fat al-qarīb, by Ibrāhīm b. Muammad al-Bājūrī. 3a (38) umdat al-sālik wa-uddat al-nāsik, by Shihāb al-Dīn Amad b. Lu lu b. al-Naqīb al-Rūmī al-Mirī (d. 1367/8; GAL S II: 104). The teacher would also consult 3b (39) anwār al-masālik, by Muammad al-Zuhrī al-Ghanrāwī; a shar on the umda, used for teaching the umda only, or, alternatively 3c (40) al-fai a al-ilāhiyya al-mālikiyya by Umar b. Muammad Barakāt al-Shāmī. 4a (11) al-manhaj al-qawīm fī shar masā il al-talīm, by Ibn ajar al-Haytamī (see 10); al-Haytamī also wrote al-fat al-mubīn fī shar al-arbaīn al-nawawiyya (see below, under adīth). The teacher would consult in addition: 4b (41) al- awāshī al-madaniya by Muammad b. Sulaymān al-Kurdī (d. 1780), a shāfi ī muftī of Medina, or, alternatively 4c (42) mawhibat al-fa l alā shar b. ajar Mu ammad Bā Fa l alā al-muqaddima al- a ramiyya, by Muammad Mafū' the development of the canon 181

b. Abdallāh al-Tirmidhī, who was still alive in 1912 (GAL S II: 528). 5a (43) manhaj al-ullāb fī l-fiqh, by Zayn al-Dīn Abū Yayā Zakariyyā b. Muammad al-Anārī al-Mirī (d. 1520; see GAL II: 30, 122; S II: 117); this text was a short version of the minhāj al-ālibīn by Abū Zakariyyā Muyī al-Dīn Yayā b. Sharaf b. al-Nawawī (see 26). Again, the teacher would consult: 5b (44) fat al-wahhāb (see also below); this text, a shar on the minhāj al-ālibīn, was thus used as a shar for the manhaj al-ullāb fī l-fiqh by the same author, Zein al-Dīn Abū Yayā Zakariyyā b. Muammad al-Anārī al-Mirī. 6a (45) fat al-muīn bi-shar qurrat al-ayn, by Zayn al-Dīn b. Abd al- Azīz al-Malibārī (d. 1567; GAL II: 549; S II: 604), this text was a shar on the qurrat al-ayn (see 93) by al-Malibārī who thus wrote his own shar on the qurrat al-ayn; al-Malibārī was a student of Ibn ajar al-Haytamī. According to al-Farsy, this was a widespread text in one volume, while the shar had four volumes. In addition, this text was usually connected with two important āshiyas, the iānat al-ālibīn by Sayyid Bakrī Shaā (see 15) and the tartīb al-mustafīdīn by Sayyid Alawī b. Amad al-Saqqāf. In addition, the teacher would consult: 6b (46) iānat al-ālibīn, by Sayyid Bakrī Shaā , a āshiya on the fat al-muīn in four volumes, the last big compendium in Shāfi ī fiqh, according to al-Farsy, widespread (see above), or: 6c (47) tarshī al-mustafidīn, a work in two volumes by Sayyid Alawī b. Amad al-Saqqāf (d. 1916; GAL S II: 743). 7a (48) fat al-wahhāb, by Zein al-Dīn Abū Yayā Zakariyyā b. Muammad al-Anārī al-Mirī, a shar on the minhāj al-ālibīn (see 43 and below for other commentaries on the minhāj al-ālibīn; see also GAL I: 497). In addition, the teacher would consult the 7b (49) āshiya by Muammad b. Amad b. asan al-Muronī (d. 1896), according to al-Farsy, a widespread text in the first half of the 20th century, as well as a 7c (50) āshiya in ten volumes by Sulaymān b. Umar b. Manūr al- Ujaylī al-Azharī al-Jamal (d. 1790) (see below and GAL II: 465f), as well as the 182 chapter four

7d (51) āshiya by Sulaymān Umar al-Bajīramī (Bujayrimī, d. 1806; GAL SI: 682) titled al-tajrīd li-naf al-abīd. 8a (52) minhāj al-ālibīn by Abū Zakariyyā Muyī al-Dīn Yayā b. Sharaf b. al-Nawawī, the last major text taught to students. In addition, the teacher would consult the 8b (53) mughnī al-mu tāj ilā maarifa maānī alfā al-minhāj, by Shams al-Dīn Muammad b. al-Khaīb al-Shirbīnī (d. 1570, see also 34; a famous shar on the minhāj (GAL S II: 441); according to al-Farsy a widespread text, or, alternatively, the 8c (54) tu fat al-mu tāj bi-shar al-minhāj, by Ibn ajar al-Haytamī, a famous shar on the minhāj in four volumes, with āshiya even ten volumes, used for reference only, with the 8d (55) āshiya by Amad b. al-Qāsim al- Ubādī (d. 1586; GAL S I: 681), or, alternatively, the 8e (56) nihāyat al-mu tāj li-shar al-minhāj, by Shams al-Dīn b. Muammad b. Shihāb al-Dīn b. Amad b. amza al-Ramlī al-Anārī (d. 1596, see 19); a famous āshiya, also called ghāyat al-mu tāj, as based on the shar on the minhāj written by Shihāb al-Dīn b. assan b. Raslān al-Ramlī al-Qudsī (d. 1441; see 17); the āshiya by al-Ramlī in eight volumes was used for reference only. The same was true of the 8f (57) āshiya by Alī al-Shabrāmallisī al-Mirī (d. 1676; GAL I: 497; II: 419) and Amad b. Abd al-Razāq al-Rashīdī al- Maghribī, or, again alternatively, a 8g (58) shar by Jalāl al-Dīn Muammad b. Amad al-Maallī (d. 1459/60; GAL II: 98, 109, 138, 180ff; S II: 178ff) titled kanz al-raghibīn, and studied with two super-commentaries called 8h (59) ‘ āshiyataynī’, by Amad b. Salāma al-Qalyūbī (d. 1658; GAL I: 487; II: 446) and Shihāb al-Dīn b. Amīra ( Umayra) al-Burullūsī (GAL I: 497). Advanced students would then continue their alab al-ilm-studies in fiqh with other texts that were in use for advanced scholars, but not for teaching, such as 9 (60) āshiya al-bājūrī alā l-iqnā by Ibrāhīm b.Muammad al-Bājūrī, a reference work for teachers. 10 (61) tu fat al- abīb, another āshiya on the kitāb al-iqnā by Sulaymān b. Umar b. Manūr al- Ujaylī al-Azharī al-Jamal (see 50 and below). the development of the canon 183

11 (62) fat al-jawād fî shar al-irshād, by Shihāb al-Dīn b. amza al-Ramlī al-Anārī (d. 1550; GAL II: 416; S II: 440); a text in two volumes and only used for reference; his son, Shams al-Dīn b. Muammad b. Shihāb al-Dīn b. Amad b. amza al-Ramlī al-Anārī, who died in 1596 (see also 19) was a famous scholar and al-fawā id al-mar iyya may have been written by him (IC73, 25.7.2003) and not by Muammad b. Abdallāh b. Demirdāsh (see 9). Another important work by amza al-Ramlī was a shar on the ājurrūmiyya (see grammar). 12 (63) a mukhtaar of the min āj al-ālibīn as based on the manhaj al-ullāb as well as the fat al-wahhāb by Ibrāhīm b. Muammad al-Birmāwī (d. 1696; GAL S I: 682). 13 (64) kitāb al-tanbīh fī l-fiqh, by Abū Isāq Ibrāhīm al-Fīrūzābādī al-Shirāzī (d. 1083; GAL I: 484), a famous Shāfi ī text, usually read with the shar by Jalāl al-Dīn b. Abī Bakr al-Suyūī (d. 1505, GAL II: 152; 180ff; S II: 178ff). In East Africa, the tanbīh was not much used. 14 (65) kitāb al-umm by Imām Muammad b. Idrīs al-Shāfi ī (d. 820; GAL I: 188; S I: 303). This major eight-volume compendium of law was used for reference purposes only. 15 (66) kitāb al-muhadhdhab fī l-madhhab, by Abū Isāq Ibrāhīm al-Fīrūzābādī al-Shirāzī that was usually read with a shar by Abū Zakariyyā Muyī al-Dīn Yayā b. Sharaf b. al-Nawawī titled kitāb al-majmū al-shar al-muhadhdhab. 16 (67) bughyat al-mustarshidīn, a collection of fatāwā by Abd al-Ramān b. M. b. usayn Bā Alawī al-a ramī, Muftī of Hadramaut (fl. early 20th century, see van Bruinessen 1990). 17 (68) raw at al-ālibīn wa-umdat al-muftīn, a large compendium in twelve volumes by Abū Zakariyyā Muyī al-Dīn Yayā b. Sharaf b. al-Nawawī. 18 (69) kitāb al-bayān fī l-furū by (Yayā b. Abū l-Khayr b. Sālim) b. Sa īd b. Muammad (b. Mūsā) al- Imrānī (d. 1163; GAL I: 490; S I: 675), a shar on the different madhāhib, widespread according to al-Farsy (1972). 19 (70) al-mīzān ‘al-sharāniyya’ al-kubrā, by Abū l-Mawāhib Abd al-Wahhāb b. Amad b. Alī al-Sha rānī (d. 1565; GAL II: 441ff). 184 chapter four

Even more specific in fiqh were texts on methods of legal procedure such as 1 (71) al-ibtihāj fī bayān iilā al-minhāj, by Amad b. Sumay (a shar on technical terms of the minhāj, taught for expound- ing on the minhāj al-ālibīn), printed in Cairo in 1937. 2 (72) al-ra biyya by a certain Abū Abdallāh Muammad b. Alī al-Raabī al-Shāmī on laws of succession, while the teacher would consult the 3 (73) shar by a certain Muammad b. Muammad Sib al- Māridīnī. 4 (74) takmīlat zubdat al- adīth by Muammad b. Sālim b. āfi'. 5 (75) āshiya by Ibn ajar al-Haitamī (see 10) on the kitāb al-ī ā fī l-manāsik by Abū Zakariyyā Muyī al-Dīn Yayā b. Sharaf b. al-Nawawī, a text on the legal aspects of the ajj. For uūl al-fiqh, the following texts were in use: 1 (76) al-waraqāt fī-uūl al-fiqh by Abū l-Ma ālī Abd al-Mālik b. Yūsuf al-Juwaynī, Imām al-aramayn (d. 1085; GAL I: 486f), while the teacher would consult the 2 (77) shar by Jalāl al-Dīn Muammad b. Amad al-Maallī (see 58). 3 (78) laā if al-ishārāt ilā shar tashīl al-uruqāt by Abd al-amīd Quds b. Muammad b. Alī al-Shāfi ī. 4 (79) lubb al-uūl mukhtaar jam al-jawāmi li-l-Subkī by Zein al-Dīn Abū Yayā Zakariyyā b. Muammad al-Anārī al-Mirī (see 43). 5 (80) jam al-jawāmi fī l-uūl, by Abd al-Wahhāb Tāj al-Dīn al-Subkī (d. 1370; GAL II: 108f), while the teacher would consult the 6 (81) shar by Jalāl al-Dīn Muammad b. Amad al-Maallī or the 7 (82) āshiya by Shaykh al-Islām asan b. Muammad al- Aār (d. 1834/38; GAL II: 623/4). 8 (83) al-risāla by Muammad b. Idrīs al-Shāfi ī (see 65). 9 (84) al-ashbāh wa-l-naā ir fī-l-furū by Jalāl al-Dīn b. Abī Bakr al-Suyūī (see 64 and tafsīr). Finally, there were a number of other basic works of Shāfi ī law that were not often used, and some were practically forgotten after 1964, such as the the development of the canon 185

1 (85) mukhtaar (min ilm al-īmām al-nafīs Mu ammad b. Idrīs) by Ibrāhīm al-Muzanī (d. 877; GAL I: 190), the 2 (86) kitāb al-tanbīh fī-l-fiqh by Abū Isāq al-Shirāzī (d. 1083; GAL I: 669) as well as 3 (87) nihāyat al-malab fī dirāyat al-madhhab by Imām al- aramayn al-Juwaynī (d. 1085; GAL I: 468); the 4 (88) kitāb al-basī by Abū āmid b. Muammad al-Ghazzālī (d. 1111; GAL I: 535ff; S I: 744 (see also 126) as well as a number of other texts by al-Ghazzālī such as 5 (89) kitāb al-wasī, and 6 (90) kitāb al-wajīz; then 7 (91) fat al-azīz fī shar al-wajīz by Abū l-Qāsim al-Rāfi al-Qazwīnī (d. 1226; GAL I: 493) or 8 (92) kitāb al-mu arrar, by the same author. Other major but less known works on Shāfi ī fiqh in Zanzibar were 1 (93) qurrat al-ayn bi-muhimmāt al-dīn, by Zayn al-Dīn b. Abd al- Azīz al-Malibārī (see 45). 2 (94) āshiya alā fat al-jawād, by Amad b. Sumay, a text not taught any more in Zanzibar. 3 (95) mukhtaar fī-bayān al-īmān wa-l-islām wa-l-sunna alā madhhab al-shāfiī, by an unknown author (see Becker 1911; GAL S II: 675), possibly by Abd al-amīd Hakima, an author from Sumatra/Indonesia (see van Bruinessen 1990). 4 (96) kitāb al-mibā al-munīr fī gharīb al-shar al-kabīr (a dictionary for uūl al-fiqh and some adīth terms), by Amad b. Muammad al-Muqri al-Fayyūmī (d. c. 1368; GAL II: 31; S II: 20, as well as Becker 1911).

b. adīth The same progression as in fiqh applies to advanced students in other disciplines, such as adīth: students would consult the basic texts, while the teachers would consult commentaries. The basic text for the study of adīth was: 1a (26) kitāb (or ‘matn’) al-arbaīn, by Abū Zakariyyā Muyī al-Dīn Yayā b. Sharaf b. al-Nawawī (on him and the text, see Schöller 2007). In this case, the teacher would consult 186 chapter four

Amad (b. al-Shaykh) b. ijāzī al-Fashnī’s shar (see 18 and 26, 27), namely, 1b (27) al-majālis al-saniyya fī l-kalām alā l-arbaīn al-nawawiyya and Abd al-Majīd Alī’s 1c (28) tu fa al-mar iyya fī l-akhbār al-Qudsiyya. 2a (97) mukhtaar Bukhārī by Abdallāh b. Abī Jamrah, a short version of the a ī Bukhārī, used for reference only, while the teacher would consult the 2b (98) āshiya on this (97) work by Muammad b. Alī al-Shan- wānī. 3a (99) riyā a-āli īn min kalām sayyid al-mursalīn by Abū Zakariyyā Muyī al-Dīn Yayā b. Sharaf b. al-Nawawī; this text has remained popular; the teacher would consult the 3b (100) shar by Muammad b. Alī b. Allān al-Bakrī al-iddīqī (d. 1638; GAL II: 512/3; S II: 533f), titled al-muīn alā marifat al-rijāl al-madhkūrīn fī-kitāb al-arbaīn. 4a (101) adhkār al-nawawiyya or ‘al-adhkār’ by Abū Zakariyyā Muyī al-Dīn Yayā b. Sharaf b. al-Nawawī, while the teacher would consult the shar , namely: 4b (102) al-futu āt al-rabbāniyya by Muammad b. Alī b. Allān al-Bakrī al-iddīqī. 5a (103) bulūgh al-marām min adillat al-a kām by Abū Fa l Shihāb al-Dīn Amad Ibn ajar al- Asqalānī (d. 1449; GAL II: 80ff; S II: 72ff), while the teacher would consult a shar , namely: 5b (104) subul al-salām by al-Amīr Muammad b. Ismā īl (al-Kahlānī) al-Yamanī al-an ānī (d. 1789; GAL S II: 74). Only after this, some students and the teachers would continue with works such as 6 (105) al-arbaūn al-ajlūniyya, by Shaykh al-Islām b. Qā ī Ijlaun (Ajlūn) (d. 1522; GAL S I: 682; SII: 119); according to al- Farsy, this text was widespread; or texts that had been consulted up to then only by their teachers, namely: 7 (27) al-majālis al-saniyya fī-l-kalām alā l-arbaīn al-nawawiyya, a shar on the kitāb al-arbaīn by Amad (b. al- Shaykh) b. ijāzī al-Fashnī. the development of the canon 187

8 (28) at-tu fa al-mar iyya fi-l-akhbār al-Qudsiyya, by Abd al-Majīd Alī (see 28). Since the late 19th century, new books have been added to the canon, such as 9 (106) adīth ya miraji, translation by Muyī al-Dīn al-Qaānī (1788-1869), a text that was recited, however, only on certain occasions such as 27 Rajab or mirāj. 10 (107) taysīr muala al- adīth, a text on the ways to use adīth, by Amad Qiān. 11 (108) mīzān al-dhahab, a grammatical biographical dictionary in ilm al- adīth, a compilation of technical terms, by Muammad Abd al-Malik b. Hishām (d. 834; GAL I: 141; S I: 206), a text that was actually not taught but formed part of private linguistic studies. In the later stages of adīth studies, students would refer to the great compilations, in particular 12 (109) al-jāmi al-a ī , by Muammad b. Ismā īl al-Bukhārī (d. 870; GAL I: 163; S I: 261ff). 13 (110) al-a ī , by Muslim b. al-ajjāj (d. 875; GAL I: 166; S I: 265ff). 14 (111) al-jāmi al-a ī , by Abū Isā Muammad b. Sahl al-Tirmidhī (d. 892; GAL I: 169; S I: 267ff); according to al-Farsy a widespread text. In iilā al- adīth (methods for the study of adīth and the technical terms of ilm al- adīth), the following books were known: 1a (112) matn (or manūmat) al-bayqūniyya (on methods of working with adīth, a classical text for ulūm al- adīth) by āhā b. Muammad b. Fattū al-Dimashqī al-Bayqūnī (fl. second half of 17th century, d. after 1669; GAL II: 307, 396; S II: 419. The teacher would consult the 1b (113) shar by Muammad b. Abd al-Bāqī al-Zurqānī (d. 1710; GAL II: 396). 2 (114) nukhabat al-fikar fī muala ahl al-athar by Abū Fa l Shihāb al-Dīn Amad b. ajar al- Asqalānī (see 103), while teachers would consult a shar by Abdallāh b. usayn al-Adawī al-Mirī 3 (115) al-tadrīb al-rāwī fī shar al-taqrīb, a shar of the taqrīb al-nawawī (of Abū Zakariyyā Muyī al-Dīn Yayā b. 188 chapter four

Sharaf b. al-Nawawī) by Jalāl al-Dīn b. Abī Bakr al-Suyūī (s. 64)

c. tafsīr Exegesis of the Qur ān has always formed part of the canon of alab al-ilm and has never been taught to children. Classes in tafsīr were usually held in the month of Ramadan. The basic book for advanced students was 1a (116) tafsīr al-jalālayn by Jalāl al-Dīn al-Suyūī and Jalāl al-Dīn Muammad al-Maallī (see 58); to teach the ‘jalālayn’, teachers would consult the following commentaries: 1b (117) al-futu āt al-ilāhiyya by Sulaymān b. Umar b. Manūr al- Ujaylī al-Azharī (see 50) 1c (118) āshiya awī by Amad b. Muammad al-awī (d. 1825; GAL S II: 181), as well as 1d (119) āshiya alā tafsīr al-jalālayn, by Sulaymān b. Umar b. Manūr al- Ujaylī al-Azharī, which was less well known, however. In addition, individual teachers might consult other works of tafsīr such as the: 2 (120) tafsīr zamakhsharī (kitāb al-tahdhīb fī-tafsīr al-Qur ān), by Abū Sa īd al-Musin b. Muammad al-Zamakhsharī (d. 1101; GAL S I: 731f). Conspicuously missing in this list are a number of famous tafsīr works, such as madārik al-tanzīl wa- aqā iq al-ta wīl or the tafsīr al-nasafī by āfi' al-Dīn Amad al-Nasafī (d. 1310; GAL II: 196), as well as the works of Ibn Kathīr, al-Qushayrī or the anwār al-tanzīl wa-asrār al-ta wīl by Nāir al-Dīn Abī Sa īd Abdallāh b. Umar al-Bay āwī (d. c. 1286).

d. tawīd ( aqīda, īmān, uūl al-dīn) Among these disciplines, aqīda was studied rather early, and has already been presented as texts 1-20 (see above), which were predominantly texts in aqīda, īmān, uūl al-dīn. Kalām, theology ‘proper’, was not taught as such in Zanzibar in the late 19th century. The basic text for advanced students in this sphere of theological studies was: the development of the canon 189

1a (121) jawharat al-taw īd by Ibrāhīm b. asan b. Alī al-Laqānī (d. 1631; GAL II: 412), while the teacher would consult the shar , the 1b (122) āshiya alā shar jawharat al-taw īd, by Ibrāhīm b. Muammad al-Bājūrī (see 37), this text was also known under the title tu fat al-murīd 2a (123) aqīdat ahl al-taw īd al-ughrā, or umm al-barāhīn, by Abū Abdallāh Muammad b. Yūsuf al-Sanūsī (d. 1486; GAL II: 323ff; S II: 352ff); a major text, often taught with a shar by the same author; one of the few texts of Maghribī origin studied in East Africa; as well as: 2b (124) risālat fī ilm al-taw īd, by Ibrāhīm b. Muammad al- Bājūrī (see 33), a āshiya on the umm al-barāhīn 3 (125) aqīdat al-īmām, by Abū l-Walīd Muammad b. Rushd (d. 1126; GAL S I: 662), a small text which is also titled al-muqaddima fi-l-farā i 4 (126) kitāb al-arbaīn fī uūl al-dīn, by an unknown author, see al-Farsy; this text was possibly a chapter from Abū āmid Muammad al-Ghazzālī’s jawāhir al-Qur ān (see 88 and taawwuf) 5 (127) mudhakkirat al-taw īd; by a certain asan al-Sayyid Mulawalī

e. Language-related Disciplines (naw, lugha, arf, balāgha and Subdivisions) Language-related disciplines as well as logic (maniq) were extremely important and essential, for instance, for the understanding and interpretation of the Qur ān. With respect to linguistics and language (na w and related disciplines), there was the ājurrūmiyya, which was studied, often with commentaries, at a very early point of time (see 21), as well as Muammad b. Abī Bakr al-Rāzī’s mukhtār al-i ā (see below) and Amad b. Muammad al-Muqrī al-Fayyūmī’s al-mibā al-munīr fī gharīb al-shar al-kabīr (Becker 1911: 29, see adīth and below). Advanced students would study the following texts: 1a (128) matn al-binā wa-asās, a text on arf by Mulla Abdallāh al-Danqarī (see also van Bruinessen 1990), while the teacher would consult the shar , the 190 chapter four

1b (129) talkhī al-asās fī-l-tarīf, by a Alī b. Uthmān (GAL S II: 919). 2 (130) irāb al-ājurrūmiyya, or ‘al-kafrāwī’, by Amad al-Kafrāwī (d. 1787), a commentary on the ājurrūmiyya (see Becker; GAL II: 424; S II: 447), on na w. 3a (131) tatimmat al-ājurrūmiyya, also a shar on the ājurrūmiyya, by Shams al-Dīn Muammad b. Muammad b. Arabī al-Khaāb al-Ru aynī (d. 1547; GAL S II: 334). Muammad b. Amad b. Abd al-Bāri al-Ahdal al-Yamanī (d. 1835; GAL II: 652) has written the 3b (132) shar kawākib al-duriyya, a shar on the burda that was also read as a shar for the tatimmat al-ājurrūmiyya. 4 (133) al-kawākib al-durriyya fī mad khayr al-bariyya, usually known as the qaīdat al-burda, by Muammad b. Sa īd al-Būīrī al-anhājī (d. 1294; GAL I: 308; S I: 467), see also below, under poetry; like some others, this text was taught in several disciplines. 5 (134) awāmm al-jurjānī (al- awāmm al-mā iyya al-na ūwiyya fī-uūl ilm al-arabiyya), a text on arf by Abd al-Qāhir b. Abd al-Ramān al-Jurjānī (d. 1078), as well as a famous text on balāgha by Abd al-Qāhir al-Jurjānī, namely 6 (135) asrār al-balāgha, as well as 7 (136) tashīl nayl al-amānī, a shar on the ājurrūmiyya, by Amad b. Muammad b. Zayn al-Faāmī, a text completed by 1883 (GAL S I: 504). 8 (137) lāmiyyat al-afāl, by Jamāl al-Dīn Muammad Abdallāh b. Mālik al-Andalūsī (d. 1273; GAL I: 359; S I: 521ff, commented later by Muyī al-Dīn b. Abdallāh al-Qaānī (see also 39 in chapter 4.4., on arf) 9a (138) mul at al-irāb, by Muammad al-Qāsim b. Alī al-arīrī (d. 1122; GAL I: 486ff; S I: 325ff), on prose, na w. The teacher would consult the shar : 9b (139) tu fat al-albāb (al-Ba raqa), by Jamāl al-Dīn Muammad b. Umar b. Mubārak Baraq (d. 1624; GAL II: 531; S II: 554), a shar on the mulhat al-irāb; Jamāl al-Dīn Baraq also wrote a number of commentaries on the lāmiyyat al-afāl and mul at al-irāb. According to al-Farsy, the ba raqa was a widespread text. the development of the canon 191

10 (140) qawāid lugha al-arabiyya by ifni Bek Nāif al-Mirī (fl. 19th century; GAL S II: 728). He wrote this text together with Muammad Effendi Diyāb al-Mirī (on na w, arf and balāgha). ifni Bek Nāif al-Mirī wrote a number of didactic texts for grammar and language teaching. 11 (141) al-alfiyya by Jamāl al-Dīn Muammad b. Abdallāh b. Mālik al-Andalūsī (Ibn Mālik, see 137). 12 (142) qar al-nadā wa-ball al-adā, by Jamāl al-Dīn Alī b. Yūsuf b. Alī b. Hishām (d. 1360; GAL II: 27ff), or, again, the shar on this text by Abū Abdallāh b. Abd al-Qādir al-Fāsī (d. 1704; GAL II: 23; S II: 16). 13 (143) shudhūr al-dhahab fī marifat kalām al-arab, by Jamāl al-Dīn Alī b. Yūsuf b. Alī b. Hishām (see 142) as well as the 14 (144) shar shudhūr al-dhahab by Zayn al-Dīn Yayā Zakariyyā b. Muammad al-Anārī al-Mirī (GAL II: 30; see 43). 15 (145) shar ibn aqīl by Abdallāh b. Abd al-Ramān b. al- Aqīl al-Mirī (d. 769h.), another shar on the alfiyya of Ibn Mālik. 16a (146) al-jawhar al-maknūn fî adat al-thalāth al-funūn, by Abd al-Ramān b. Muammad b. Āmir al-Akh arī (d. 1546; GAL II: 614; S II: 705); the teacher would consult the shar , the 16b (147) shar al-jawhar al-maknūn, by Amad b. Abd al-Mun im al-Damanhūrī al-Mirī (d. 1763; GAL II: 371, 487; a text on balāgha). In maniq, logic, only one text would be used, namely 1a (148) matn al-sullam or al-sullam al-munawraq fi-l-maniq by al-Akh arī (see 146), while the teacher would consult the 1b (149) āshiya by Ibrāhīm al-Bājūrī as based on a shar by al-Akh arī. There was also another shar on this work by Amad b. Abd al-Mun im al-Damanhūrī (s. 147) titled 1c (150) ī ā al-mubham min maānī al-sullam.

f. mad, sīra, qaā id and du ā (Supererogatory Prayers) Of specific importance for East African Islamic traditions was the celebration of the mawlid al-nabī and the texts, mostly poems, con- 192 chapter four nected with this event. These texts constituted a major element of Qur ānic school learning and were consequently widespread on the East African coast. Of particular importance were al-Būīrī’s burda as well as Barzanjī’s mawlid al-nabī and the commentaries connected with this work; Ibn ijja al-Hamawī’s khizānat al-adab and its commentaries such as the takhmīs (see below), as well as Abū Abdallāh Muammad b. Abī Bakr b. Rashīd al-Baghdādī’s al-qaīda al-witriyya. Like the alāt al-tarāwī , this supererogatory prayer was recited after prayers by a specific īmām witriyya in many mosques during the month of Ramadan (Becker 1911: 24). With respect to mad al-nabī, sīra and mawlid, students would usually start with 1 (151) sīrat al-nabī (or sīrat ibn hishām) by Ibn Hishām and Ibn Isāq (GAL I: 141; S I: 205ff); other texts were: 2 (152) nūr al-yaqīn, by Abū Abdallāh Muammad b. Iyā b. Mūsā al-Sabtī, ‘al-Qā ī Iyā ’ (d. 1149; GAL I: 455ff; S I: 630ff). 3 (153) nūr al-abār fī-manāqib āl al-bait al-mukhtār, by Mu min . al-Mu min al-Shablānjī (d. 1883; GAL II: 636; S II: 737), according to Becker a major work (Becker 1911: 24), a biography of the genealogy of the prophet. 4 (154) kitāb al-shifā fī tarīf uqūq al-muafā by al-Qā ī Iyā (see 152). 5 (155) kitāb al-shamā il al-tirmidhī by Abū Īsā Muammad b. Sahl al-Tirmidhī. 6 (156) al-mawāhib al-laduniyya by Abū l- Abbās Amad b. Muammad Shihāb al-Dīn al-Qasallānī (d. 1517; GAL II: 87ff), who also wrote a shar on the kitāb al-shamā il; as well as by Ibrāhīm al-Bājūrī. The basic texts in mad /mawlid/qaīda were often important for the teaching of Arabic as well: 1 (157) futu āt al-a madiyya by Sulaymān b. Umar b. Manūr al- Ujaylī al-Azharī al-Jamal, a shar on the 2 (158) qaīdat al-hamziyya fī-l-madā i al-nabawiyya, also called the umm al-qurā fī mad khayr al-warā by al-Būīrī (see 133). 3 (159) the shar on the qaīda bānat suād by Ibrāhīm (b. Muammad) al-Bājūrī. Amongst other things, Ibn ajar al-Haytamī (see 10), also wrote a shar on this mad - poem, which had been composed by Ka b b. Zuhayr, a the development of the canon 193

heathen contemporary of the Prophet (GAL I: 39; S I: 68). 4 (160) mawlid mirāj, also called the qiat al-mirāj, by Ja far b. Zayn al- Ābidīn al-Barzanjī (d. 1765; GAL II: 503; S II: 517ff). 5 (161) qiat mirāj al-nabī by Najm al-Dīn Muammad b. Amad b. Alī al-Ghayī (d. 1573; GAL II: 445). This qiat al-mirāj was often printed in one volume together with the qiat al-mirāj by Sayyid Bakrī Shaā (see 15). 6 (162) mawlid (barzanjī) al-nabī, also called ‘iqd al-jawāhir’, by Ja far b. Zayn al- Ābidīn al-Barzanjī (see 161; Bang 2003: 149). 7 (163) sim al-durar fī akhbār mawlid sayyid al-bashar by Alī b. Muammad b. usayn b. Abdallāh b. Shaykh al-ibshī al-a ramī. 8 (164) mawlid al-daybā ī (Dībā ī) by Abd al-Ramān al-Daybā ī (see also al-Farsy’s text bid-a (sic), 1981 and van Bruinessen 1990). 9 (133) al-qaīdat al-burda, by Muammad b. Sa īd al-Būīrī al-anhājī, the ‘burda’, the kawākib al-duriyya fi-mad khayr al-bariyya, which was also important in na w (see above). 10 (165) āshiya alā shar al-burda (or āshiyat al-bājūrī) by Ibrāhīm b. Muammad al-Bājūrī; 11 (166) al-kawkab at-witriyya, or al-qaīda al-witriyya fī mad khayr al-bariyya, a prayer recited during īd, during funer- als (by women) and in Ramadan; by Muammad b. Abī Bakr b. Rushaid al-Wā i' al-Baghdādī al-Witrī (d. 1264; GAL I: 290; S I: 443, see also Becker). Al-Baghdādī also wrote bustān al-ārifīn fī-marifat al-dunyā wa-l-dīn. For the witriyya there existed also a takhmīs, a poem that added four interpretations or variations of the theme to an existing verse or chapter, namely the 12 (167) al-takhmīs al-witriyya by Muammad b. Abd al- Azīz al-Warrāq (as well as by al-Baghdādī himself); 13 (168) jawharat al-maknūn fī-l-maānī wa-l-bayān wa-l-badī, by Alī b. Muammad b. usayn al-ibshī; a text on composition, according to al-Farsy a widely used text. Usually, only some poems from this collection were taught. 194 chapter four

14 (169) qaīda from the al-durr al-manūm by Abdallāh b. Alawī al-addād al-a ramī (see below, 181 and 182 and above); 15 (170) mawlid sharaf al-anām, by a scholar from Bukhara, ‘al-Bukhārī’, which was less popular, but has become more important in recent times; 16 (171) al-kawkab al-āhir bi-shar naīm ājir, a qaīda composed in 1902 by Amad b. Sumay which was used to train the memorizing of qaā id (see ALA IIIb forthcoming). This text was read only by advanced students, original prose, printed 1902 in Cairo. In the field of prayers, the following texts were popular: 1 (172) al-maslak al-qarīb by āhir b. usayn al-a ramī; 2 (173) manūma asmā Allāhi al- usna; 3 (174) asmā ahl al-badr (or qaīda ahl al-badr) by Abdallāh b. al-usayn b. Mar ī al-Baghdādī al-Suwaydī al-Dūrī (d. 1757; GAL S II: 508); 4 (175) tabāruk dhī l-ulā, prayers in praise of the Prophet, by Muammad b. Abd al- Azīz al-Warrāq (see 167) as recited after tarāwī prayers in Ramadan; 5 (176) jabr al-qar by a certain Muafā Rushdī b. Ismā īl al-Shāmī; 6 (177) rātib al- addād by Abdallāh b. Alawī al-addād, as recited daily after ishā prayers (see also taawwuf ); 7 (178) rātib al-aās by Umar b. Abd al-Ramān al- Aās al-a ramī, recited weekly only (see also taawwuf ); 8 (179) a ra Bā Sūdān by Abdallāh Bā Sūdān al-a ramī (d. 1849).

g. taawwuf In taawwuf, many texts were known in East Africa, such as, for instance, al-Ghazzālī’s bidāyat al-hidāya plus commentaries, such as those by Muammad al-Nawawī al-Jāwī, a scholar from Banten in Java. Particularly well known, according to Becker, was Muammad al-Nawawī’s qar al-ghayth fī shar masā il abī l-laith, as well as the works by Abū l-Laith al-Samarqandī himself, i.e. the tanbīh al-ghāfilīn and the bustān al-ārifīn. In addition, there was Abd al-Qādir al-Jīlānī’s sirr al-asrār wa-mahar al-anwār, Amad b. Muammad b. Iyā ’s al-mafāshir al-āliyya fī l-ma āthir al-shādhiliyya, al-Jazūlī’s the development of the canon 195 dalā il al-khayrāt, and numerous treatises on the rātib, wird and dhikr of the Alawiyya, the Qādiriyya and the Shādhiliyya such as the fuyū āt al-rabbāniyya (180) by Abd al-Qādir al-Jīlānī. Students would start their studies of taawwuf according to their affiliations with a specific arīqa. For students linked with the Alawiyya, these texts were: 1 (181) risālat al-muāwana wa-l-muāhara wa-l-muwāzara by Abdallāh b. Alawī b. Abdallāh al-usaynī al-addād (d. 1720; GAL II: 408/475/537; S II: 566/722/996; according to al-Farsy a widely used text). He also wrote 2 (182) al-durr al-manūm li-dhauq al-uqūl wa-l-fuhūm (see above) and 3 (183) al-durar al-bahiyya fī l-akhlāq al-mar iyya (on taawwuf; not identical with 15); 3 (184) risāla al-mudhākara maa l-ikhwān wa-l-mu ibbīn; 4 (185) al-it āf al-sā il bi-ajwibat al-masā il; 5 (186) al-fuūl al-ilmiyya; 6 (187) sabīl al-adhkār wa-l-itibār; 7 (188) al-dawa al-tāmma wa-l-tadhkira al-āmma; 8 (189) naā i al-dīniyya wa-l-waāya al-īmāniyya (according to al-Farsy a widespread text); 9 (190) risālat al-adab wa-sulūk al-murīd; 10 (191) al- ikam al-ilmiyya, as well as the 11a (177) rātib al- addād, a collection of supererogatory prayers of the Alawiyya which could be called an Alawī ‘wird’, a basic text for teaching taawwuf, that was recited after ishā prayers. After this text, students would continue their studies in taawwuf as such, and usually start with al-Ghazzālī, then proceed to more difficult texts such as: 11b (192) bidāyat al-hidāya, by Abū āmid al-Ghazzālī (see 88); 11c (193) marāqī al-ubudiyya al-ajwiba al-makkiyya, by Muammad b. Umar b. Arabī al-Nawawī al-Jāwī (see 3; also known as shar bidāyat al-hidāya), popular among teachers. 12 (194) tanbīh al-ghālifīn, by Abū l-Laith (Nar b. Muammad b. Ibrāhīm) al-Samarqandī (d. 983; GAL I: 210; S I: 347), a very popular text. 13 (195) bustān al-ārifīn, by Abū l-Laith al-Samarqandī; 196 chapter four

14a (196) minhaj al-ābidīn ilā jannat rabb al-ālamīn, by Abū āmid al-Ghazzālī, while the teacher would own the shar , namely 14b (197) sirāj al-ālibīn by Amad Zaynī Dalān (s. 22); according to van Bruinessen (1990) this text in two volumes was written by a scholar from Kediri/Java, namely Isān b. Muammad Dalān (d. 1952). 15 (198) al- ikam al-Aā iyya, by Tāj al-Dīn Amad b. Muammad b. Aā ullāh al-Iskandarī al-Mirī (d. 1309, GAL II: 143f), while the teacher would consult the shar by Muammad b. Ibrāhīm b. Abbād al-Rondī (d. 1394; GAL II: 143) and Abdallāh al-Sharqāwī al-Mirī (ibid.); 16 (199) i yā ulūm al-dīn, by Abū āmid al-Ghazzālī (see 88), according to al-Farsy widely used, and normally taught in Ramadan; 17a (200) al-risāla fī ilm al-taawwuf (or simply, ‘al-risāla’), by Abū l-Qāsim Muammad al-Qushayrī (d. 1072; GAL I: 556; S I: 770), according to al-Farsy a widespread text, used mostly by advanced students. The teacher would consult the shar by Zakariyyā al-Anārī al-Mirī titled 17b (201) natā ij al-fikriyya. 18 (202) sirr al-asrār wa-mahar al-anwār, by Abd al-Qādir al-Jīlānī, d. 1167, the alleged founder of the Qādiriyya (GAL I: 561; S I: 777). 19 (203) qūt al-qulūb fī muāmalat al-ma būb, by Abū ālib Muammad al-Makkī (d. 996; GAL I: 359; S I: 217); a work on Sufism in many volumes and widespread according to al-Farsy. 20 (204) it āf al-sāda al-muttaqīn, by Murta ā al-Zabīdī (d. 1791); a shar on the i yā ulūm al-dīn in ten volumes (GAL S II: 398, see also below); a reference text. 21 (205) kitāb awārif al-maārif, by Shihāb al-Dīn al-Suhrawardī (d. 1234), a āshiya on the i yā (GAL I: 569; S I: 788); according to al-Farsy a widespread text. 22 (206) dalā il al-khayrāt wa-mashāriq al-anwār fī dhikr al-alāt alā l-nabī al-mukhtār, by Muammad b. Sulaymān al-Jazūlī (d. 1465; GAL II: 327; S II: 359, and Becker 1911); a widespread text, used for personal reciting; also a mad . the development of the canon 197

23 (207) qar al-ghayth fī shar masā īl abī l-laith by Muammad b. Umar b. Arabī al-Nawawī al-Jāwī al-Bantanī (see 3); a shar on bustān al-ārifīn; al-Bantanī also wrote bahjat al-wasā il bi shar al-masā il risālat al-jāmia wa-l-tadhkira as a shar on this work by Alī b. Zayn al-ibshī. 24 (208) miftā al-aghayir, by Abū Bakr b. Sālim, according to al-Farsy widely used; 25 (209) sullām al-tawfīq ilā ma abbat Allāh alā l-ta qīq, by Abdallāh b. usayn b. āhir Bā Alawī (d. 1855, GAL S II: 820), a short introductory text that would also be used for the teaching of fiqh, according to al-Farsy widely used. 26 (210) al-maālib al-saniyya bi-shar alā naā i al-dīniyya, by Amad b. Sumay, printed in 1968/69 in Cairo together with al-naā i al-dīniyya (Bang 2003: 206; for the works of Amad b. Sumay, see also al-Farsy 1972: 58ff as well as ALA IIIb, forthcoming). 27 (211) al-fawā i al-saniyya, by Abdallāh b. al-abīb b. Alawī al-addād (fl. late 18th century; GAL S II: 816), according to al-Farsy a widespread text. 28 (212) al-mafāshir al-āliyya fī l-ma āthir al-Shādhiliyya, by al-Qā ī Iyā ; 29 (213) minhāj al-fa ā il wa-mirāj al-afā il, by Amad b. Sumay, a shar on works by Abdallāh b. al-abīb b. Alawī al-addād; 30 (214) tu fat al-labīb, by Amad b. Sumay, a shar on the lāmiyyat al- abīb of Abdallāh b. al-abīb b. Alawī al-addād, as printed in Cairo in 1907; a text on the origins, beliefs and spread of the Alawiyya, completed in 1911 according to al-Farsy. 31 (215) manhal al-wurrād min fay al-amdād, by Amad b. Sumay, a commentary on a qaīda rā iyya of al-addād (see ALA IIIb, forthcoming; equally Bang 2003: 204ff). This text was printed in Mecca in 1897. 32 (216) sabīl al-muhtadīn by Amad al- Aās, fl. 20th century, a reference text for questions pertaining to pious matters that also contained the different prayers of the Alawiyya, taught in the scholarly circles of the Alawiyya, and later in the Muslim Academy. 198 chapter four

By the 19th century, in addition to the disciplines presented above, Islamic scholarship on the East African coast had produced numerous works of a non-religious character, in particular stories, poems and travel accounts, as well as local histories of cities such as Pate, Lamu, Malindi, Mombasa and Kilwa. Scholars were also familiar with the major works of non-religious lore such as alf layla wa-layla, or the works on ilm al-falak and connected disciplines such as ilm al-raml, where we find, for instance, al-Būnī’sshams al-maārif wa-laā’if al-awārif, but also the kitāb al-fal fī-uūl ilm al-raml by Abū Abdallāh Muammad al-Zanātī, and the mawālid al-rijāl wa-l- nisā by Abū Ma shār (see Nisula 1999: 102; Becker 1911: 53/54). The following texts were important for local scholarship, even though they were not necessarily taught in madāris and cannot be regarded as forming a central part of the canon of education. Rather, they can be seen as forming part of a larger educational (Bildungs-)canon. By contrast, the texts presented under ibb and ilm al-falak could be said to constitute the basis for specific and highly esteemed specializations within ‘Islamic’ knowledge (for a much longer list of such texts as known in contemporary Comoros, see Blanchy 2007: 274ff).

h. adab For adab, the major texts were: 1 (217) maqāmāt al- arīrī by Abū Muammad b. Qāsim b. Alī al-arīrī (see 138); he also wrote the mul at al-irāb. 2 (218) khizānat al-adab wa-ghāyat al-arab, by Abū l-Maāsin Ibn ijja al-amāwī (d. 1434; see Becker and GAL II: 18; S II: 8f) 3 (219) jawāhir al-adab, by an unknown author.

i. tajwīd Tajwīd was a very popular discipline; here the major text, as has been mentioned above, was (25) hidāyat al-mustafīd, by Muammad al-Mamūd al-Najjār, on tajwīd. The major text for tajwīd, however, was the (220) kitāb fī-ilm al-tajwīd by Imām Muammad b. Idrīs al-Shāfi ī called al-shāfiī fī-ilm al-tajwīd; this text was consulted only for teaching advanced students. the development of the canon 199

j. ibb al-nabī Books on ibb al-nabī (prophetic medicine) and the production of ijāb (amulets), i.e. the therapeutic use of texts, were widespread among scholars in Zanzibar. Today, there is a great deal of misunderstanding with respect to these disciplines (see chapter 3). Thus, local practices, uganga, were related to ibb rather than to ilm al- falak (see below). Uganga could mean, for instance, the practice of producing amulets (talasimu, hirizi). Also Qur ānic texts were written with special ink (zafarani) on an ubao which was then washed off to practice (ki)kombe, ‘drinking the cup’, or to make ablutions (IC72, 31.8.2002). Here, some texts were known (see also Declich 2004a: 264f): 1 (221) kitāb al-ra ma fī l-ibb wa-l- ikma, by Jalāl al-Dīn al-Suyūī. Another important text on ibb was missing, however, namely Ibn Sīnā’s qānūn fī l-ibb. Other known texts in the sphere of ibb were: 2 (222) kitāb al-jinā wa-l-manā fī ilm al-ibb, by Abū Manūr al-asan b. Nū al-Qumūrī (d. 990; GAL I: 239; S I: 424-5); 3 (223) kitāb al-azraq fī l-ibb, by Ibrāhīm b. Abd al-Ramān b. Alī b. Abī Bakr al-Azraq (d. 1412); 4 (224) ibb al-nabī, by Abū Bakr Abū l- Abbās Ja far b. Muammad al-Mustaghfirī al-Nasafī al-anafī (d. 1040); 5 (225) al-sirr al-alī fi-khawā al-nabāt al-sawā ilī by Nāir b. Jā id b. Khamīs al-Kharūī (1778-1847), a treatise on the roots, plants and herbs on the East African coast and their use in medicine and uganga (Declich 2004a: 265).

k. ilm al-falak Astrology, astronomy, numerology and related disciplines has comeָ to be associated today mostly with types of uganga (healing) practices such as reading the Qur ān (kisomo ya korani) in Arabic for therapeutic purposes, or the recitation of specific verses, or the 99 names of Allāh (Kim 2001: 195ff). In the early 20th century,ilm al-falak was known in classical terms as the discipline of the ‘stars’ and ‘times’, i.e. astronomy and astrology, navigation and the sighting of the moon. In Zanzibar, the most widely used texts were (see Declich 2004a: 264f): 200 chapter four

1 (226) shams al-maārif al-kubrā wa-laā if al-awārif, by Amad b. Alī al-Būnī (d. 1225; GAL I: 655; S I: 910), a very influential text in all parts of the Islamic world. 2 (227) kitāb al-mīqāt, by al-Māridīnī (?, see 73) on the times of prayer and the qibla in foreign lands, a handbook for travellers, according to al-Farsy a formerly widespread text, today known to old people only 3 (228) kitāb al-fal fī uūl ilm al-raml, probably by Abū Uthmān Muammad al-Zanātī (c. late 14th century; GAL S II: 1037/41) and 4 (229) shumūs al-anwār wa-kunūz al-asrār, by Ibn al-ājj al-Tilimsānī (d. 1325; GAL II: 83).

l. ta rīkh Whereas not many scholars have produced historical accounts in Zanzibar, local histories, travel accounts, biographical accounts such as (230) mawālid al-rijāl wa-l-nisā , by Abū Ma shar, were widely used in other centers of Islamic learning on the Swahili coast, in particular, Mombasa and Lamu (see ALA IIIb, forthcoming and Freitag 1999a).

m. Reference Works In addition, there were a number of reference works which cannot be clearly linked to one of the disciplines presented above, such as: 1 (231) mukhtār al-i ā , by Muammad b. Abī Bakr al-Rāzī, d. 1262, a dictionary for fiqh, adīth and tafsīr (GAL S I: 658). 2 (232) kitāb misbā al-munīr fī gharīb al-shar al-kabīr by Amad b. Muammad b. Alī al-Muqri al-Fayyūmī (d. 1368; GAL II: 31), a juridical lexicon. 3 (233) al-qāmūs al-muhī by Abū al-āhir Muammad b. Ya qūb b. Muammad b. Ibrāhīm al-Fīrūzābādī (d. 1415; GAL II: 231ff). 4 (234) tāj al-arūs by Murta ā al-Zabīdī, a shar on the qāmūs al-muhī by Muammad b. Ya qūb al-Fīrūzābādī but used only by senior and advanced scholars. Finally, there were many works by non-Shāfi ī authors (see ALA IIIb, forthcoming), in particular, Ibā ī scholars such as the Maghribi the development of the canon 201 scholar Ibrāhīm Ifish (or better: Abū Isāq al-afayish (GAL, S II, 893, al-qanāīr), as well as local Ibā ī scholars (Declich 2004a: 257ff).

4.4. The Canon of alab al- ilm Studies: The Early 21st Century

In the late 20th and early 21st centuries, the canon and the corpus of texts that were taught in the different disciplines of Islamic learning has become considerably smaller, especially following the revolution of 1964, when compared with the canon of the late 19th and early 20th centuries. First of all, many old texts were replaced in the 20th century by new summarizing texts that were often easier to read than old compilations. Often, these new texts followed modern didactic considerations and were produced by Zanzibari government scholars such as Burhan Mkelle or Abdallāh āli al-Farsy, while others were written by Egyptian and Indian scholars. In addition, we observe a change in the importance of some disciplines. Thus, taawwuf has suffered and the same is true foradab , maniq, falsafa, ibb and even, to a certain extent, fiqh. According to local scholars, basic Shāfi ī legal texts are virtually ignored today, in particular by the Anār al-Sunna (IC26, 30.7.2003). At the same time, taw īd, tajwīd, and Arabic and language related disciplines (lugha, na w and arf, but not logic, maniq) have gained in importance, as has adīth. Also, while only a part of the Qur ān was memorized in earlier periods, the ta fī of the whole Qur ān has become popular (IC26, 30.7.2002, IC73, 25.7.2002). Major innovations of the 20th century were not only the reduction in the total number of texts, however, but also a shift of scope regarding the origin of texts. Since the 1970s, texts from Saudi Arabia, as well as revised editions from India and Egypt, have found a market in Zanzibar. Shāfi ī scholars from al- Azhar had, in fact, started in the 1950s to re-edit old Shāfi ī compendia to make them better accessible for students. At the same time, Egyptian and local textbooks were complemented in many schools, such as the Madrasat al-Nūr, by textbooks from Saudi Arabia, in particular with respect to fiqh, taw īd, lugha and adīth. A general overview of the canon of Islamic religious studies as accepted since the mid-1920s will now be presented.11

11 Basic information for this section again came from Yunus A. Sameja, Mwalimu Idris and Masoud Amad Shani; additional information came, as above, from 202 chapter four

In the first stages of their studies and memorization of the Qur ān, students still memorize parts of the Qur ān, at least ūrat al-fāti a as well as the juz amma (see footnote 8 in chapter 4.2. on the al-qāida al-baghdādiyya textbook), and then read small religious texts such as the poem aqīdat al-awāmm, hidāyat al-ikhwān or the kitāb al-zubad. Reforms in Islamic education in the late 20th century have introduced a number of small texts of catechetic (aqīda, talqīn) character, that were taught before or at the same time as memorization of the Qur ān. Also, the key introductory texts have changed several times in the 20th century: until the 1920s, the key texts for early studies in aqīda and fiqh were al-mukhtaar al- a ramiyya and risālat al-jāmia. From the 1920s to the 1980s, the risālat al-jāmia, irshād al-muslimīn, hidāyat al-afāl and safînat al-najā dominated, while since the 1980s, the key introductory text was al-mabādi al-fiqhiyya alā madhhab al-īmām al-shāfiī, a treatise on the basics of ibādāt published in four small volumes by Umar Abd al-Jabbār (IC72, 11.8.2003). When they reach the second stage of education, students today continue to read small texts of an introductory, summarizing and/or didactic nature, as well as small catechisms and treatises on the ibādāt, or introductory texts into a specific discipline. A most remarkable development during the past few decades is that aqīda-talqīn and ibādāt texts have become much more important, i.e. the teaching of the basics of the faith. Tajwīd has maintained its popularity. This reevaluation of the importance of different disciplines is reflected by the fact that the different disciplines are listed in a new sequence below. Thus, fiqh is presented later than in chapter 4.3., while taw īd comes earlier. Most texts in contemporary syllabuses were already known as basic texts for teaching in the early 20th century. However, their total number has decreased to less than ninety, and even less in government schools. In the following paragraphs, texts again have a consecutive number; texts that were presented in the preceding section will be marked in brackets by their respective number in the last chapter. Only ‘new’ texts will be presented extensively. It must be stressed again that this list varies

C.H. Becker (1911), ALA IIIb (forthcoming), Brockelmann’s Geschichte der Ara- bischen Literatur, as well as al-Farsy 1972 and Ziddy 2001. In addition, the data gained from the syllabuses of government schools, the Muslim Academy and some madāris, in particular the Madrasat al-Nūr and the Madrasat Amīriyya, have been integrated into the list. the development of the canon 203 from school to school, and that not all texts are taught in all madāris. Rather, the differentmadāris stick to a specific selection and thus mark their respective religious orientation.

a. The Basic Texts 1 (2) risālat al-jāmia, this text was actually taught in government schools from the 1920s, under the title risāla al-jāmia fī bayān uūl al-dīn wa-l-fiqh wa-l-taawwuf li-madāris Zinjibar in ‘Islam’ or, later, ‘Islamic Religious Instruction’ (IRI) and was still available in 2007. 2 (4) irshād al-muslimīn li-ahammī furū al-dīn: this text has been relegated to a third position in the sequence of learning, but was still available in 2007. 3 (175) tabāruk dhī l-ulā, also taught as part of the government school syllabus. 4 (6) safīnat al-najā fī uūl al-dīn wa-l-fiqh, since c. 1960 this text was part of the government school syllabus and was taught in IRI. Today, this text has risen to second position in the sequence of learning. 5 hidāyat al-afāl, a new text by al-Amīn b. Alī al-Mazrū ī; this text was part of the government school syllabus and was taught from 1960 in IRI. In Zanzibar, this text was not as well known as in Kenya but has risen to first position in the sequence of learning today (IC72, 13.8.2002). 6 al-mabādi al-fiqhiyya alā madhhab al-imām al-shāfīī; since the 1980s, this treatise on the basics of the ibādāt, published in four small volumes by Umar Abd al-Jabbār was cultivated in Zanzibar, in particular, by the Anār al- Sunna and was still available in 2007. 7 al-wā i fī-uūl al-fiqh, by an unknown author; this small new text has become part of adīth studies, but was not available in 2007. 8 mukhtaar shar arkān al-islām by Abdallāh b. Abd al-Ramān Jarīn, a text that was introduced into syllabuses only after 1972, and that became part offiqh studies in some schools, but was not available in 2007. 204 chapter four

b. aqīda/īmān/uūl al-dīn/tawīd Small texts on taw īd, which has become a major discipline in connection with aqīda, nowadays complement catechetic texts, the Qur ān and small texts on taw īd: 9 (15) al-durar al-bahiyya, which became part of the government school syllabus and was taught, from 1946, in IRI (until 1964); 10 (124) risālat fī ilm al-taw īd; 11 āshiya alā shar jawharat al-taw īd; 12 (123) aqīdat ahl al-taw īd al-ughrā, which has also become part of the government school syllabus, and was taught at the Muslim Academy from about 1960; 13 (125) aqīdat al-imām, this text was also part of the government school syllabus, and was taught at the Muslim Academy from about 1960; 14 aqīdat al-muslim by Muammad al-Ghazzālī; a new text that was adopted by the Muslim Academy only after 1972; 15 hidāyat al-ikhwān, a new text by Umar b. Sumay, a shar on the aqīdat al-imām by Imām al-addād, printed in 1937 in Cairo; 16 (20) aqīdat al-awāmm, which became part of the government school syllabus and was taught at the Muslim Academy since about 1960. Today, this text is not known widely any more. 17 (127) mudhakkirat al-taw īd; this text was part of the government school syllabus and was taught at the Muslim Academy since c. 1960; 18 uūl al-dīn al-islāmī maa qawā idihi al-arba, a new text by Muammad b. Sulaymān al-Tamīmī, a text that was introduced into syllabi only after 1972; 19 kitāb al-taw īd, by āli b. Fawzān al-Fawzān, a new text that was introduced into syllabuses only after 1972; 20 al-aqīda al-wāsiiyya, a new text that was also introduced into syllabi after 1972 only. the development of the canon 205

c. tafsīr In Zanzibar, tafsīr has become very important, but only advanced students go into detailed studies. Contemporary teachers have come to teach and practice tafsīr as a translation (tarjama), rather than as an exegesis of the Qur ān (IC26, 10.3.2003). In 2007 the basic text was still: 21 (116) tafsīr al-jalālayn. In addition, teachers use the commentaries quoted above. Another tafsīr sometimes used, but only by teachers, is: 22 kitāb taysīr fī l-tafsīr, by Najm al-Dīn al-Nasafī (d. 1142; a anafī scholar; GAL I: 548; S I: 758), which was introduced into tafsīr studies only recently; 23 tafsīr al-qur ān al-karīm by Muammad Mājid, the director of the madrasat al-nūr from 2000-2002; a text that was introduced into syllabuses also only recently. In addition, reformist groups refer to the (24) tafsīr al-manār by Muammad Abduh, as well as 25 fī ilāl al-qur ān, Sayyid Qub’s tafsīr. Recently, a number of scholars have also produced translations of the Qur ān into Kiswahili, such as: 26 qurani takatifu, the tafsīr of Abdallāh āli al-Farsy, based on earlier efforts by al-Amīn b. Alī al-Mazrū ī, who has done a translation of the juz amma, or, more recently, 27 tarjama ya ‘al-Muntakhab’ katika tafsiri ya qur ani tukufu by Alī Musin al-Barwānī.

d. tajwīd Tajwīd has continued to be important. In particular the Anār al- Sunna stress the importance of tajwīd. The recitation of the Qur ān seems to have partially replaced mawlidi and other old recitational practices, in particular praise poems (mad ). The basic text fortajwīd was: 28 (25) hidāyat al-mustafīd; this text was part of the government school syllabus and taught at the Muslim Academy from about 1960. In addition, the following texts were taught in some schools: 29 (220) al-shāfiī fī ilm al-tajwīd; 30 burhān fī-tajwīd al-qur ān and 31 qawā id al-tartīl (by unknown authors). 206 chapter four

e. Language-related Disciplines (naw, lugha, arf, balāgha, etc.) Linguistics and, in particular, the teaching of Arabic, have attained major importance since 1972, although Arabic has been increasingly taught in Kiswahili as a foreign language: 32 (21) al-muqaddima al-ājurrūmiyya fī ilm al-arabiyya, that was also part of the government school syllabus, and was taught at the Muslim Academy from 1960. In the government schools since 1923, children learning Arabic as a language would first use: 33 tamrīn al-afāl (‘al-tamrīn’), a textbook in two volumes by Burhān b. Muammad Mkelle (Mukalla) al-Qumūrī (1883/4-1949). This text was first published in Zanzibar in 1918 and then in Cairo in 1923, and was used for teaching primary lessons in grammar in government schools. Equally, a simple reader to learn the alphabet and practice reading was introduced in the 1920s and used in both Indian and government schools, namely: 34 al- ija wa-l-muālaa. From 1946, in addition, children in government schools would be taught: 35 mufradāt al-qirā at al-rashīda, a four volume lexicon for the teaching of Arabic in elementary schools, produced in Egypt and possibly introduced in Zanzibar by Amūr Alī Amīr. Then students would continue with: 36 (22) ‘al-da lān’; 37 (130) irāb al-ājūrrūmiyya; 38 (133) al-kawākib al-durriyya fī mad khayr al-bariyya. 39 (137) lāmiyyat al-afāl, this text was also part of the government school syllabus, and was taught at the Muslim Academy from about 1960; 40 (141) al-alfiyya, as well as the 41 al-alfiyya al-wā i a, a new text, also called the ‘alfiyya burhān mkelle’, by Burhān Mkelle (see ALA IIIb, forthcoming); printed in 1917; 42 (128) matn al-binā wa-asās; this text also became part of the government school syllabus and was taught at the Muslim Academy from about 1960; the development of the canon 207

43 al-na w al-wā i fī qawā id al-lugha al-arabiyya, a book by Alī Jarīn and Muafā Amīn, written in the early 20th century; this text was also part of the government school syllabus, and was taught at the Muslim Academy from about 1960. The same authors have also published: 44 al-balāgha al-wā i a, which was taught at the Muslim Academy after 1960 (and still is today) (see van Bruinessen 1990) 45 (143) shudhūr al-dhahab, as well as 46 al-mula la āt al-arabiyya, a new text; see also the 1960 syllabus of the Muslim Academy. In addition, two new Egyptian textbooks by different authors were used for language teaching at the Muslim Academy after 1960, namely: 47 ‘al-bayān’, and 48 ‘al-maānī’, which contains a text on the subdivisions of balāgha by Sirāj al-Dīn al-Sakkākī titled ilm al-maānī wa-l-bayān (GAL I: 294-6). Recently, other books have been introduced from Egypt as well as Saudi Arabia, such as: 49 shar al-Azhariyya al-jadīd (on na w), or 50 taysīr al-arf as well as 51 tāj al-sirr, on lugha, by Muammad Abd al-alīm or 52 unwān al-arf fī- ilm al-arf, and 53 shadhdh al-arif fī-l-arf by Amad al-amlāwī.

f. adīth adīth has lost its former importance, although it was still regarded important in IRI until recently. However, only a few texts or small compilations were actually studied. The basic text was still al-Nawawī’s collection. Also, translations of adīth have increasingly replaced original texts. However, students still start with: 54 (26) al-arbaūn, but then continue with 55 adithi zilizochaguliwa, also titled aya zilizochaguliwa, ‘the verses that have been chosen’, a text by al-Amīn b. Alī al-Mazrū ī in Arabic; the translation into Kiswahili was done by āhir b. Abī Bakr al-Amawī and published in 1925; this text was part of the government school syllabus, taught in IRI from 1926 until 1946, then abandoned, but 208 chapter four

taken up again after 1964 by some schools; another text was: 56 (112) matn al-baiqūniyya: this text was part of the government school syllabus, and was taught at the Muslim Academy from about 1960; 57 adīth ya miraji, translation by Muyī al-Dīn al-Qaānī (1788-1869), a text that was recited, however, only on some occasions such as 27 Rajab or mirāj; 58 (107) taysīr muala al- adīth. Only a few students nowadays continue with a study of the major compilations quoted above.

g. fiqh and subdivisions Fiqh, the study of Islamic jurisprudence, has vastly decreased in importance in recent decades and has been reduced to the following texts: 59 (17) kitāb al-zubad, also part of the government school syllabus and taught at the Muslim Academy from 1960 onward. This has remained an important text and is taught at a very early stage. 60 (31) kitāb al-taqrīb, also part of the government school syllabus, and taught at the Muslim Academy from about 1960. 61 (32) fat al-qarīb al-mujīb, also part of the government school syllabus, and taught at the Muslim Academy from about 1960. 62 (38) umdat al-sālik wa-uddat al-nāsik, this text is also part of the government school syllabus, and has been taught at the Muslim Academy from about 1960. 63 (52) minhāj al-ālibīn, the last major text that is usually taught to students. 64 (45) fat al-muīn bi-shar qurrat al-ayn, again, this text is part of the government school syllabus, and has been taught at the Muslim Academy from about 1960. The following texts are consulted by teachers only: 65 (35) kifāyat al-akhyār fī shar (ghāyat) al-taqrīb; this text has also been taught at the Muslim Academy since about 1960, but is used mostly by teachers. the development of the canon 209

66 (53) mughnī al-muhtāj ilā maarifa maānī alfā al-minhāj. Nowadays, this text is only used by teachers to explain the minhāj al-ālibīn. In the 20th century, new texts have been written by contemporary scholars, often in Kiswahili: 67 wasīlat al-rajā , by asan b. Amīr, a shar on the safīnat al-najā , but used by teachers only. 68 mawaidha ya dini, by Abdallāh āli al-Farsy; 69 sala na maamrisho, by Abdallāh āli al-Farsy; In addition, new texts have been introduced recently by some schools, such as 70 minhaj al-sālikīn wa–taw ī al-fiqh bi-l-dīn (author unknown), as well as a number of texts that were also listed under tawīd and catechisms. In addition, there were small texts on the branches of fiqh such as fiqh al-zawāj that were often imported from Saudi Arabia: 71 tu fat al-urūs; 72 minhaj al-muslim, kitāb aqā id wa-adab, by Abū Bakr Jānir (sic) al-Jazā irī; 73 fiqh al-sunna, by Shaykh Sābiq, a text that was introduced into syllabuses only after 1972.

h. mad, sīra and qaā id Although the celebration of the mawlid al-nabī is still very important in Zanzibar nowadays, at least as part of ‘popular culture’, it is not taught any more as part of the formal syllabus in IRI. However, known and taught in many madāris is: 74 (162) mawlid al-nabī, by Ja far b. Zayn al- Ābidīn al-Barzanjī. This text was even part of the government school syllabus until 1965, and has been taught at the Muslim Academy since about 1960.12 Still in use in 2007 was: 75 (133) al-qaīda al-burda, as well as 76 (166) al-kawkab at-witriyya, which is today recited in Zanzibar only from mīm to yā .

12 Themawlid barzanji has been retranslated into Kiswahili by Saidi Musa under the title Tafsiri ya Mawlidi Barazanji kwa Tenzi na Qasida (Dar es Salaam, Lillahi Islamic Publications Center, 1987); an earlier translation had been undertaken by al-Farsy. 210 chapter four

77 mawlid abshī, by Alī b. Muammad al-abshī (1842-1914) For sīra, students nowadays read 78 khulāat nūr al-yaqīn fī sīrat sayyid al-mursalīn, edited by Umar Abd al-Jabbār, based on a recent work by Muammad a arī Bek, an Egyptian scholar of the 20th century, a short version of the nūr al-yaqīn (152) by al-Qā ī Iyā (see van Bruinessen 1990). In addition there were further works on sīra written in Kiswahili, such as 79 Maisha ya nabii Mu ammad, by Abdallāh āli al-Farsy, see ALA IIIb, forthcoming; this text is also part of the government school syllabus, and has been taught in IRI since 1946.

i. taawwuf and akhlāq Taawwuf has suffered in the 20th century. Nowadays, only a few texts are studied, mostly in private. Yet, the essential texts are still taught in the private madāris that are affiliated with different Sufi brotherhoods. In formal education, however, only the following texts survived until 1964, but most of them not beyond 1964: 80 (189) naā i al-dīniyya: this text was part of the government school syllabus, and was taught at the Muslim Academy from 1960-1965, a very popular text (in informal learning) up to this day. 81 risālat al-muāwana wa-l-muāhara, which was also taught at the Muslim Academy after 1960; today still a very popular text in informal learning; 82 (199) i yā ulūm al-dīn; this text is also part of the government school syllabus, and has been taught at the Muslim Academy since 1960. 83 (192) bidāyat al-hidāya, another text that was at least part of the government school syllabus until independence and has been at the Muslim Academy since 1960. 84 (203) qūt al-qulūb fī muāmalat al-ma būb, today used only by advanced students. 85 (205) kitāb awārif al-maārif, also used today by senior students only. the development of the canon 211

Equally, akhlāq has become a rather marginal discipline, although it is still taught in government schools using a new textbook: minhaj al-muslim, kitāb aqā id wa-adab (see also above, 72). In the 20th century, Sufi scholars have continued to write texts that have, however, not become part of the syllabus of IRI. Often, these new texts were only known to the members of a specific arīqa, such as duā al-juyūsh al-kabīr, by Muammad al-Nāir b. Abdallāh al-Qādirī (Muammad Naor; a recently recompiled text of this scholar of the Qādiriyya).

j. adab What has been said with respect to taawwuf also applies to other disciplines such as ibb, ilm al-falak or adab, which largely became marginalized after 1964. Many texts in these disciplines are known only to senior scholars and are no longer taught at government schools. The only exception is: 86 (219) jawāhir al-adab; this text is part of the government school syllabus, and was taught at the Muslim Academy until 1964. Since the 1920s, Islamic education has thus experienced some significant changes which had repercussions on the canon. Until the early 20th century, as has been mentioned above, the children would start to read and write Arabic characters on an ubao (slate, lau ). Subsequently, they would start to memorize the Qur ān, starting with the sūrat al-fāti a, and then continue with the juz amma. After having memorized the Qur ān, children were regarded as hitimu, and could continue their education in specific disciplines. The most popular disciplines were fiqh, ilm al-falak, ibb and adab. The Alawī scholars also started so stress the importance of adīth, lugha, na w and taawwuf, and they wrote new texts for teaching purposes, introductory works as well as commentaries and super-commentaries, especially on works of Shāfi ī fiqh that became a basis for the teaching of these subjects in government schools. Nowadays, students start with a number of smaller texts on the foundations of the faith before starting to memorize the Qur ān. Secondly, adīth seems to have maintained some importance, a development that was also observed by van Bruinessen with respect to Java, and may be connected with the fact that reformist movements, due to their critical approach to fiqh, tend to stress the direct 212 chapter four link with the Sunna of the Prophet as expressed in adīth studies. Only some fiqh-related disciplines, such as ibādāt, and some aspects of the muāmalāt , such as mīrāth, have maintained their importance today. Scholars rather complain that even small introductory texts such as irshād al-muslimīn are not taught any more, and that the teaching of fiqh has been reduced to the ibādāt, while Shāfi ī fiqh in general, and advanced studies with the respective commentaries and super-commentaries are not cultivated any more. In general, the former emphasis on fiqh has decreased (IC26, 10.3.2003 and IC3, 11.3.2003). At the same time, aqīda and talqīn and the respective texts have gained in importance. Also, taw īd and tafsīr have become important, and the same is true for the language-related sciences (na w, lugha, arf), that have come to be seen as a major basis for mastery of the language and comprehension of the Qur ān. Other important disciplines in historical times were mad al-nabī, sīra and mawlid. Again, these disciplines have lost their importance, in particular as far as mawlid is concerned, while ilm al-falak (astrology, astronomy, numerology), ibb, taawwuf and adab have become almost completely marginal today (IC3, 11.3.2003) due to decades of decline in Islamic scholarship and constant attacks by Muslim reformers. Within each discipline, teachers are still free to choose whatever text they prefer to teach. However, a procedural hierarchy has developed, at least for the basic books taught at the beginning of studies in each subject, before teachers expand into other works and their commentaries. Also, an increasing number of books in Kiswahili have been published since the 1940s. Translations have been made by local scholars, such as Amad b. Sumay, al-Amīn b. Alī al-Mazrū ī or Abdallāh āli al-Farsy, often financed by the colonial administration or, later, Islamic organizations (IC3, 4.3.2003). At the same time, local scholars complain that more and more texts are being translated without a proper knowledge of Arabic (IC26, 10.3.2003). This presentation of the canon of Islamic learning in Zanzibar from the late 19th to the early 21st centuries shows that the canon has seen at least three distinct stages of development: from pre-colonial times through colonial times to Zanzibar’s revolutionary era. In pre-colonial times, from the 1860s to the 1890s, Zanzibar’s scholarly canon was dominated by a corpus of texts of mostly Hadrami, Egyptian and Hijazi origin, as well as its rootedness in the classical the development of the canon 213 traditions of Islamic learning. In the colonial period, this canon was gradually revised and modified by new texts of mostly Egyptian origin which offered easier access to classical texts, in terms of print and the didactic organization of books. Also, local scholars started to translate classical texts into Kiswahili and to write new texts for purposes of teaching in government schools. Finally, there were slight shifts in the importance attached to the different disciplines, from taawwuf and ilm al-falak to fiqh. In the post-revolutionary era, these shifts have intensified. New textbooks from Saudi Arabia have been introduced, many classical texts or parts of such texts have been translated into Kiswahili, and a distinct disciplinary shift from fiqh to aqīda, taw īd, Arabic language teaching and adīth has taken place. At the same time, the corpus of texts has become significantly smaller, attesting to the collapse of Zanzibar’s established traditions of learning and their replacement by functional concepts of learning in the discipline of ‘Islamics’ (diāna), a development which started in colonial times and which will be discussed in the following two chapters. 214 chapter four the colonial period i: schools 215

CHAPTER FIVE

THE POLITICS OF EDUCATION IN THE COLONIAL PERIOD I: SCHOOLS

5.1. Introduction: The Pillars of the Colonial Education System

In colonial times, education in Zanzibar was essentially based on four institutional pillars of education and corresponding types of school: government schools, mission schools, ‘Indian’ schools and Qur ānic schools. While government schools were largely thought of as caring for the children of the ‘Arab’ elite, and Indian schools catered for the needs of the Indian population, mission schools and Qur ānic schools were theoretically open to all population groups. Yet, while government schools, mission schools and Indian schools were regarded as part of the colonial education system, and figured in annual reports, the vast majority of schools, namely the Qur ānic schools, were recorded in colonial statistics only from the early 1940s. Until this period of time, official statistics convey the image of an educational system that was based on government, mission and Indian schools only, while Qur ānic school education was ignored and not regarded as proper education. Only in the late 1930s did this perception gradually change, and only the 1960 annual report accepted that ‘the beginning of education...lay in the establishment of Kuran schools, and today these are scattered in their hundreds in every village and ham- let throughout the islands, forming the foundation of the education of the majority of the people’ (ZNA BA 5/34). In the late 19th century and the early colonial years, formal education was confined to institutions of Islamic learning, a first ‘Indian’ school and the efforts of some mission schools. British educational policies went through three distinct periods of development up to 1963, the year of Zanzibar’s independence: a. The period from 1905-1920, which was marked by the efforts of two colonial officers, namely, the Director of Education (DoE) Rivers-Smith (B232) and Resident Pearce, who tried to develop the first outlines of an education policy. Attitudes with respect 216 chapter five

to Islamic education were characteristically negative and may be summarized in the words of Rivers-Smith, who, in one of his annual reports, described Qur ānic school education as ‘deadening to potential intellect, wasted years in a child’s life...We should bring these children under proper control’ (ZNA AB 1/224). b. The period from 1921-1939, which was marked by the efforts of DoE Hendry (B209), who tried to expand the impact of the government schools by integrating some aspects of Islamic education. Due to the resistance of the established religious scholars who were not prepared to accept British ideas on Islamic education, these plans largely failed. c. In the period from 1940-1963, the British administration finally accepted incorporation of the Alawī scholarly establishment into colonial policies, and also accepted the ideas of the Alawī scholars regarding religious education. As a result, the Qur ānic schools were integrated into the colonial education system. The alliance of colonial policies and Islamic scholars stimulated a process of modernization, formalization and institutionalization of Islamic education and Qur ānic schools in particular. A consequence of this development was the establishment, in 1952, of the first modern Islamic institute, the Muslim Academy.

British colonial rule produced a great number of files on many aspects of British rule and colonial development, as well as on colonial education (see ZNA AB 1/78, 224, 451; AD 3/8; BA 3-5, 14-30, 34; PRO CO 688/5, 9, 13, 14, 20; and PRO CO 822/1606). These files represent a construction of colonial reality. The British as well as other colonial powers had a specific and selective perception of colonial realities. This perception of colonial life can be found in the colonial files and has to be read accordingly. At the same time, colonial administrators were forced to produce a specific interpretation of the colonial situation in order to mobilize support for the funding of what were sometimes very costly colonial development projects, in the face of resistance from notoriously stingy colonial administration headquarters in Bombay and London. In a number of cases, colonial development projects did not find unanimous support within the colonial hierarchy in Zanzibar. Competing perceptions of colonial reality, as well as constructions of colonial realities, can be identified in the files. Colonial files also reflect the processes of negotiation that took place within the colonial administration before results were the colonial period i: schools 217 eventually recorded in annual reports. This is particularly true in cases when decisions on a lower administrative level were reconsidered and sometimes revoked on a higher level and had to be rene- gotiated. Before looking at the dynamics of educational policies in Zanzibar and the processes that led to the incorporation of Islamic education in chapter 6, the historical development of mission schools, Indian schools, Qur ānic schools and government schools will be discussed in this chapter. In order to translate the ‘flavour’ of the discussions of the times into the text, original voices have been integrated as direct quotes commenting the analysis in both this and the next chapter.

5.2. Mission Schools

In the second half of the 19th century, Zanzibar witnessed the emergence of the first non-Muslim educational institutions. These institutions were connected with the efforts of three missions, namely, the Catholic Holy Ghost Mission (HGM, est. 1862), the Anglican Uni- versities’ Mission to Central Africa (UMCA, est. 1864) and the Quaker Friends’ Industrial Mission (FIM) (see Turki 1987: 147ff). However, in contrast to 20th century Tanganyika, mission organizations established only a few schools in Zanzibar. Zanzibar was seen as a Muslim country where mission would be rather difficult. Missions consequently tried to concentrate on the non-Muslim territories on the mainland. Despite these strategic decisions, the number of mission schools in Zanzibar eventually grew to ten schools in 1913 (ZNA AB 1/224; for the history of the mission schools see Turki 1987; McMahon 2005b). The HGM, ‘La congrégation du St. Esprit et l’aimé Coeur de Marie’, a French mission, was the first to start schools. In 1862, it established two schools which had 136 students in 1866 (Furley/ Watson 1978: 32, Turki 1987: 97). In 1868, the HGM shifted its centre to Bagamoyo, leaving the field in Zanzibar to the UMCA. In Zanzibar, the activities of the HGM remained largely confined to a small community of Catholic Indians from Goa, and St. Joseph’s Convent School which was opened in 1895 and became a well known and well reputed school for the Goans, the Parsee community in Zanzibar, as well as some Christian mainlanders, in particular when the school became ‘grant-in-aided’ in 1930 (Turki 1987: 103). For 218 chapter five most of the time, the HGM had only three major schools in Zanzibar, namely: a. The Holy Ghost Boys’ School as established in 1862, which accommodated approximately 130 boys in the late 19th century. From 1897, their numbers declined rapidly to 40 in 1903, 38 in 1908, 20 in 1920 and 30 in 1935 (Turki 1987: 112/3). b. The African Girls’ School, as established 1862, which accommodated 80 girls in 1868, 40 in 1903, 15 in 1915, 21 in 1925 and 10 in 1930. c. St. Joseph’s Convent School (College) in Shangani, which came to be renamed ‘Tumekuja’ secondary school after 1964, and which was a school for Catholic Indian and Parsee children; it started with 8 students in 1895, had 50 students in 1913, 117 in 1926, 72 in 1928, 163 in 1932, 213 in 1936 and 301 in 1944 and was probably the most successful mission school. For a short period of time, the HGM also maintained fourteen ‘evening schools’ for adults. The HGM thus remained rather marginal, especially after the abolition of slavery in 1897, as slaves had formed the majority of the students in these ‘evening schools’. In the years that followed, not much happened; ‘it was a period of stagnation’ (Turki 1987: 105). In 1923, the mission even abandoned its station on Pemba. UMCA missionary efforts in Zanzibar began in 1864 with the arrival of Bishop Tozer, accompanied by Dr. Edward Steere. In 1866, an estate was acquired in Kiungani-Kilimani, an Ng’ambo quarter on the western seafront and a first mission, St. Andrew’s, was started. The efforts of the UMCA to set up a first mission school focused, as in the case of the HGM, on the children of freed slaves (ZNA BA 5/34). In 1873, Dr. Edward Steere became bishop and took over the work in Zanzibar (Turki 1987: 116ff). The mission had a number of highly qualified staff such as Bishop Frank Weston or Canon Godfrey Dale (Bang 2003: 239), who was in Zanzibar from 1889 until 1925. He became famous for his translation of the Qur ān into Kiswahili (publ.1923) as well as for his work in a number of committees on the development of education in the 1910s and early 1920s. The UMCA had between five and seven schools in Unguja, as well as a school in Kizimbani, Wete/Pemba which was opened in 1897. These schools were: a. The UMCA boys’ school, established in 1864 in Shangani. After 1897 (abolition), the school usually had about 30 boys, then the colonial period i: schools 219

moved to a new site in Ng’ambo, and eventually, in 1908, to Mkunazini. In the 1910s, the school usually accommodated about 50 boys and had around 35 regulars in the early 1920s. It was closed down in 1925, but reopened in the same year on a new site and under a new name, namely b. St. Paul’s High School in Kiungani, where the school took over the premises of St. Andrew’s College (see below), which had been shifted to the mainland in 1925. St. Paul’s had 64 boys in 1925 and never grew much beyond this size. Today, the buildings of the UMCA school in Kiungani are in ruins. c. St. Mary’s, the UMCA girls’ school in Mbweni, which was established in 1865 (1871 according to other sources), and had 117 students in 1901. The school was transferred to the mainland in 1917. The remaining girls were transferred to: d. St. Monica’s in Mkunazini, close to the Anglican Church, a school that had been established in 1898, had 30 students in 1913, 31 in 1927 and 48 (boys and girls) in 1937. e. St. Andrew’s in Kiungani, the major UMCA school, was established in 1871, although some efforts to establish a school had already started in 1864, immediately after the arrival of the first missionaries. St. Andrew’s became a major centre for the training of Africans from the mainland, who were sent to St. Andrew’s to be trained as priests and teachers (see Kimambo 1969: 154). As most of the students at St. Andrew’s were Christians, they were never employed in Zanzibar, but sent to the mainland, where after WWI they formed the core of African employees of the British colonial administration in Tanganyika. St. Andrew’s had approximately 60-80 students annually in the 19th century up to 1897. Most of them came from the mainland. In 1913, the school had 80 boys; between 1868 and 1912 St. Andrew’s trained approximately 600 students (Furley/Watson 1978: 33). Only from 1912 onward did Muslim students become a majority in St. Andrew’s (Furley/Watson 1978: 43). In 1925, St. Andrew’s was transferred to Minaki on the mainland (Turki 1987: 134), while the building was reopened as St. Paul’s School (see above), under Canon Broomfield as first principal. This school accepted only Christian students. The smallest mission, the FIM, started work in Zanzibar in 1890 only, and remained confined to Pemba, where three schools and work- 220 chapter five shops were established from 1897 (ZNA AB 1/224, Annual Report Rivers-Smith 1913). These schools never attracted many students. In 1925 and 1930, the three FIM schools in Pemba had only twenty students. The school in Mkoani had two students in 1939 and six in 1944; while the Banani school had fourteen students in 1916 and was closed down in 1934 (Turki 1987: 112ff; for a detailed presentation of the FIM schools see McMahon 2005b: 212ff). The mission schools never managed to attract more than a tiny minority of Zanzibar’s population and were characterized by a history of stagnation. The annual reports on education consistently recorded that mission schools had only a few, mostly Christian students of mainland origin. Most mission schools were in fact evening schools for adults. The missions thus ‘largely failed in their educational efforts’ (Furley/Watson 1978: 126). The 1917 annual report typically mentioned that the number of students in the mission schools had fallen again, the UMCA maintaining four schools, the HGM one and the FIM one school in Pemba, concluding: ‘From the above details it will be observed that, in the Zanzibar Protectorate, 1288 boys and 362 girls are now receiving instruction, either in the Government, Mission or Indian communities schools’ (ZNA AB 1/224). Although missions were the first institutions to provide modern formal education, parents in Zanzibar continued to refuse to send their sons to both government and mission schools due to the link that was seen between them and the missionary institutions which recruited their students among the former slave populations (Bang 2003: 174). Thus, the number of students in mission schools remained small. In 1924, the UMCA boys’ school had 55 students, the two girls’ schools had 48 students; the HGM maintained 15 boys’ schools with 88 students and eight girls’ schools with 124 students; whereas the FIM had five schools (three male, two female) with 24 students (Bang 2003: 174). In 1924, the HGM, ‘keen to extend the work of their afternoon adult schools in the districts, made a proposal to throw open these schools to village children in the mornings’ and undertook an effort to open eight rural schools with the support of the Sultan and the Government. These rural schools were to be supported by the government and managed by the HGM, yet were conceived of as secular schools without religious (Christian) classes during regular school times. By 1925, five schools had been built, but local populations again resisted and colonial records remarked: ‘It was found impossible to overcome the suspicion of the Muhammedan the colonial period i: schools 221 parents’. The scheme was abandoned after 18 months, although the Protectorate government had agreed to cover 50% of the costs and 25% of the running costs, ‘without a single boy ever having been enrolled at any of the five schools’ (ZNA BA 5). The 1926 annual report on education mentioned with respect to the mission schools that ‘despite all efforts it was found impossible to disarm the suspicion felt by Muhammadan parents, and no students were sent to the twelve schools which were ready to provide secular education. This accounts for the 1925 figure of 15 (mission) schools being reduced to three’. The 1935 report again recorded the schools of the missions and the dwindling number of students: 35 for the FIM schools, 243 (97 adults) for all UMCA schools, and around 600 for the HGM schools, a number that included 300 adults in the evening schools (ZNA BA 5). Although statistical data were rather incomplete, as the number of mission schools that were registered in the files varied from year to year, they show the precarious position of mission schools in Zanzibar in the colonial period. The sudden rise in school numbers in 1924 and 1925 was due to the statistical registration of evening schools for adults as well as the above-mentioned short-lived experiment of the HGM to open an additional number of eight rural schools without religious classes. A similar statistical ‘hiccup’ can be observed for the period from 1934-1938, when the education report counted 23-30 adult schools (not included in the chart below); from 1939, mission schools were no longer registered in the files and reappeared in colonial statistics only in 1946 as ‘grant-in-aided’ schools. In the chart below, the number of mission schools can be reproduced approximately (only years when data or changes in data were available were included in the chart):

year no. of year no. of year no. of schools schools schools 1862 2 1898 8 1928 14 1864 3 1913 10 1934 8 1868 1 1914 6 1935 11 1871 3 1924 31 1938 12 1895 4 1926 13 1946 4 1897 7 1927 11 1964 4 Similarly, the number of students in mission schools was not 222 chapter five recorded consistently in colonial files. Student numbers sometimes appear to be relatively high due to the fact that the adults in the mission evening schools were counted as students. Sometimes, student numbers at ‘grant-in-aided’ schools were added to those in not ‘grant-in-aided’ schools, including the Indian schools. Thus, the student statistics for mission schools have to be regarded as rather unreliable, except for the period from the late 1930s, when their number was estimated at approximately 300 students, up to 1947, when the students in mission schools disappeared statistically and were registered as students of not ‘grant-in-aided’ (privately funded) schools, a statistical category which also registered many ‘privately funded’ Indian schools. During the whole period, mission schools never had more than some few hundred students at one time (excluding adults in evening schools). After the Second World War, only four mission schools survived, namely St. Monica’s (girls) in Mkunazini (UMCA), St. Paul’s High School (boys) in Kiungani (UMCA), the (mixed) St. Joseph’s Convent School (HGM) in Shangani, and finally the HGM ‘African Urban School’, a primary school for boys and girls:

year no. of year no. of year no. of students students students 1866 136 1928 707 1949 c. 600 1903 c. 390 1933 37 1950 592 1913 c. 360 1934 73 1951 614 1924 339 1935 475 1952 569 1925 295 1938 c. 300 1953 489 1926 745 1947 551 1954 541 1927 922 1948 604 1957 880

5.3. ‘The Torch Bearers of Education’: The Indian Schools

Leaving aside the rather futile efforts to establish mission schools in Zanzibar, the tale of modern education in Zanzibar has to start with the endeavours of the Indian community to establish schools. These schools remained exclusively Indian until the end of the colonial period. The development of the ‘Indian schools’ reflects a basic problem of colonial rule: while the colonial administration was keen on finding an easy way of coming to terms with Zanzibar’s complexities, the ‘colonial subjects’ tried to escape colonial patronage and administrative simplifications. This was particularly true of the Indian the colonial period i: schools 223

communities, which were split into multiple regional, religious and social groups. Seemingly clear-cut differentiations were muddled by confusing crossovers. Thus, Kumbaro pot makers were often ‘Hindu’ in India, but mostly Muslim in Makunduchi/Zanzibar. The Khōja group, which was mostly Ismā īlī in India, had an Ithnā ashara fraction in Zanzibar, which, however, did not mix with non-Khōja Ith nā ashara Indian Muslims. In addition, there were Zoroastrians and Catholic Goans. The Bohora Ismā īlī community, as led by the Karimji family, as well as the Khōja Ismā īlī community both tried to maintain a separate status. Colonial politics of centralization were torpedoed by communal endeavours to establish distinction and distinctiveness was expressed, amongst others, in a multitude of schools. Since the early colonial period, Indians, who had already occupied administrative positions in the Sultanate, tried to cultivate new careers as clerks and employees of the British colonial administration, and were, in fact, viewed as ‘suitable’ for these clerical jobs by the British administration. The British were willing to encourage the development of private ‘Indian schools’, yet refused to accept Indian children in government schools which were reserved for the Arab elite and some ‘Shirazis’. Only in the late colonial period were government schools opened for Indian students or were Indian schools incorporated into the government education system, even if their schools remained separate administrative units. British anxieties were enhanced by the fact that ‘Indians’ were seen not only as the most dynamic social and economic group in Zanzibar, but also as politically ‘suspect’ due to their links with the Indian national movement in both South Africa and India (IC82, 22.7.2004). In Zanzibar, Indians soon realized the importance of modern schools, probably as a reaction to the decision of the HGM to open its mission in Zanzibar to Indian students in 1862, even if this school only lasted for a short period of time, until 1868, when the school was closed (Furley/Watson 1978: 35 and Turki 1987: 99). In 1881, a group of 571 Indians led by a rich trader, Tharia Topan, asked the British Consul General, Sir John Kirk, to remind the British government of the educational needs of the Indian community and stressed that the Indian community was willing to donate 200,000 rupees for the foundation of an Indian school. This school was to be set up as a waqf, a religious foundation, under the condition that the British agreed to pay an annual sum for maintenance. When the British 224 chapter five rejected this offer, the Indian community and Tharia Topan with- drew their offer (Turki 1987: 203). In 1890, Indian families under the leadership of Tharia Topan again raised 56,000 rupees for a school which was opened on 1 January 1891, in the presence of the British Consul General, Sir Euan Smith, and subsequently named Sir Euan Smith Madrasa (SESM; Furley/Watson 1978: 34). As the Indian community was split into numerous groups which never agreed on a uniform syllabus for religious education for the different Indian communities, the Indian Muslim communities, in particular, continued to fight for separate schools that would include religious instruction. In addition, the Indian communities saw the need to establish girls’ schools as the SESM was a boys’ school only. Thus, a whole series of mostly denominational Indian schools, though smaller than the SESM, were established from the 1910s (Turki 1987: 205), while the SESM remained non-denominational. In 1913, Zanzibar had five ‘Indian’ schools, while Goan Indians sent their children to the (Catholic) St. Joseph’s Convent School that also admitted Parsee children (Furley/Watson 1978: 36). In the 1940s, Zanzibar had eighteen Indian schools. These schools were (ZNA AB 1/224, annual reports on education; the year in brackets indicates the year in which a school became grant-in-aided):

School Year of Religious orientation foundation Sir Euan Smith Madrasa 1891 (1916) Non-denominational (boys) (SESM) Shī a Imāmī Ismā īlī 1905 (1931) Khōja-Ismā īlī (girls) Kanyashala Shī a Imāmī Ismā īlī School 1907 (1925) Khōja-Ismā īlī (boys) Madrasat al-Muammadieh 1909/1910 Bohora-Ismā īlī (boys, girls) (1929) Kuvatul Islam Madrasa 1912 (1949) (Khōja) Shī a-Ithnā ashara (boys, girls) ujjatul Islam 1917 Shī a-Ithnā ashara (non-Khōja, boys) Mulla Raza 1917 Shī a-Ithnā ashara (non-Khōja, girls) Gnan Verdhak 1917 a Gujarati community school (boys) Devji Master School c. 1917 Hindu (boys) the colonial period i: schools 225

School Year of Religious orientation foundation ‘Datubhai’ Hemani 1920 (1936) Shī a-Ithnā ashara (girls) Ithnā ashara Kanyashala Hindu Kanya Vidyalaya 1923 (1926) Hindu (girls) Joshi Master 1925 a Gujarati community school (boys) ‘Hoorbhai’ Kanyashala 1925 Shī a-Ithnā ashara (girls) Ārya Kanya Vidyalaya 1925/1926 Ārya Samāj (reformed ‘Hindu’, (1943) girls) Hindu Sunni Madrasa 1940 ‘Memon’ (boys) Hindu Sunni Community 1940 ‘Memon’ (girls) school Popat Master 1944/1945 Hindu Pota Master 1944/1945 Hindu

The Indian Schools in Detail: 1. The Sir Euan Smith Madrasa (SESM, 1891). This non-denominational school was the most important Indian school in Zanzibar throughout the colonial period. Although the SESM could be regarded as the ‘mother of the Indian schools’ in Zanzibar, its development reflected multiple splits and conflicts in the Indian community. These communal divisions become apparent in numerous files on the development of the SESM as a primary and intermediary (middle) school for Indian children. The SESM was directed by a joint Muslim- Hindu managing committee, yet organized as a waqf based on 40,000 rupees of the school building fund. In the early years, most of the students of the school were Khōja Ismā īlī (Turki 1987: 204). This was to change later, when the student population diversified. In January 1914, the SESM had 116 students of mixed religious orientation: 37 Hindu, 42 Khōja Ithnā ashara, 14 Khōja Ismā īlī, seven Bohora, nine Memon and seven others, as well as three teachers. The major driving force for the maintenance of the SESM from 1891 were influential Indian businessmen, connected mostly with the Khōja Ismā īlī community under the leadership of the Aga Khan and his local supporters, in particular, the Siwji (Sewji) family and Muammad usayn Tharia Topan, Tharia Topan’s son. In addition, there was an SESM advisory (management) committee which in 1949 consisted of the Khōja Shī a Ithnā ashara Kuwatul Islam Jamat, the (non-Khōja) Shī a Ithnā ashara ujjatul Islam Jamat, the Parsee 226 chapter five

community, the Hindu Community and the Hindu Sunni (‘Memon’) Community, while the Bohoras, under the leadership of the wealthy Karimji family, kept a certain distance and soon built their own schools (ZNA AD 1/116). All expenditure and revenue was controlled by the advisory committee as well as a British treasurer who was also responsible, from 1916 and even more so from 1924, for the grant-in-aid administration of the school (ZNA AB 1/78; see below). The SESM thus had a dual administration: the British Department of Education (DeptoE) and a managing committee that was appointed every three years and that represented the six officially recognized Indian communities in Zanzibar. In 1922, the classes of the SESM and the Government Central School (GCS) were amalgamated in administrative terms, although they were not accommodated in one building. Also, special classes for the teaching of Gujarati were introduced to cater for the needs of the Indian students (Turki 1987: 218). In 1933, Indian middle school education was concentrated at the SESM, except for those Indian middle school students who went to the St. Joseph’s Convent School and the Bohora schools, while the different Indian communities remained in charge of the Indian elementary schools. As a consequence, Zanzibar had two middle schools from 1933, the SESM and the GCS, and from 1935 one secondary school, the GSS, which remained reserved for African and Arab students, while Indian secondary school students were accommodated in the SESM building, which was formally regarded as a branch of the GSS (Turki 1987: 202ff; IC82, 22.7.2004). Over the years, the student numbers at the SESM, as far as reproduced in the files, developed as shown in the next chart:1

year total no. H Kh.IA KI B M others of students 1913 95 ------1914 116 37 42 14 7 9 7 1920 243 ------1925 291 ------1933 475 161 120 10 - 34 81 1936 424 ------

1 Key to abbreviations: Kh.IA stands for Khōja Ithnā ashara, KI for Khōja Ismā īlī, B for Bohora, M for ‘Memon’ and H for ‘Hindu’. the colonial period i: schools 227

year total no. H Kh.IA KI B M others of students 1937 448 170 196 11 - 14 55 1940 560 ------1945 877 ------1946 936 ------1950 996 ------1951 1056 ------

The number of teachers at the SESM rose from three in 1891 and 1913 to nine in 1920, 21 in 1938, 26 in 1945, and 31 in 1950. The school also had a number of well known headmasters such as I.M. Tata (B238) who had been in office from 1907 to 1920 and then again from 1924 to 1934 and who was replaced, in 1934, by A. R. Arjani (B186), who was in office until 1947. In 1948, a discussion in respect of Arjani’s successor for the position of headmaster was started, but no suitable candidate was found. The idea of asking L.W. Hollings- worth (see chapter 7) to take over this position was rejected. In 1949, the government finally took complete control of the school as a government secondary school (middle school branch) and nominated Roland Lewis as the new principal. The official take-over took place on 1 January 1950 (ZNA AH 43/1), 60 years after the foundation of the school. The transformation of the grant-in-aided SESM into a government school was linked to the construction of a new school building in 1949, next to the Fire Station on Creek Road. After the revolution, this building became the Haile Selassie Secondary School, while the old building of the SESM close to the customs building in Forodhani was turned into an orphanage and became the Muslim Academy in 1952.2 2. The Shīa Imāmī Ismāīlī Kanyashala (1905), a school which from 1925 was called the ‘Aga Khan Girls’ School’. The school was founded in 1905 by the Aga Khan, the leader of the Ismā īlī-Nizārī or ‘Khōja’ community, on the premises of the Ladies’ Jamat Khana (community centre). In January 1914 it had 179 students and three teachers, in 1917 160 students, and in 1925 254 students. In 1931,

2 Among the guests of honour at the foundation stone laying ceremony of the new SESM building were Sa īd b. Alī al-Mughayrī, Muammad b. Naor Lamkī, Ameir Tajo, Muammad b. Hilāl al-Barwānī, Umar b. Sumay and Sa īd b. Rashīd al-Ghaythī. 228 chapter five the school became grant-in-aided and moved to new premises. In 1939, the school had 273 students. This school had a nursery school, which will not be considered, however, in the discussion on the development of Indian schools to follow (for the Shī a Imāmī Ismā īlī Kanyashala, see specifically Turki 1987: 243). 3. The Shīa Imāmī Ismāīlī School (1907) or ‘Aga Khan Boys’ School’, founded in 1907 by the Aga Khan. In January 1914 it had 176 students and six teachers, 173 students in 1917, and 424 students in 1925. In 1925, the school was integrated into the grant-in-aid system and the school adopted the syllabus of the ‘Bombay Presidency’. In 1926, the school had 297 students; in 1933, their number was 309 (Turki 1987: 244/5). As all Indian schools were inspected regularly on an annual basis by the inspector of schools, a report on the Aga Khan Boys’ School by Mr. D. Lang on 1 September 1944 has survived and shows the character of these inspection reports: according to Lang, the school opened in 1904 and had always been well attended. In 1918, it had 400 students, in 1944 308. The school committee consisted of eight members nominated by the Aga Khan Council. It did not charge fees and was grant-in-aided, while being able to cover a third of the teachers’ salaries on its own. The staff consisted of twelve teachers, and the building was entirely suitable as a school. The headmaster was, for a long period of time, M.S. Chaudhuri. 4. TheMadrasat al-Mu ammadieh (1909/1910) or ‘Bohora School’, founded for the children of the Bohora, the Ismā īlī ayyibī-Musta ilī- community as directed by a dāī mulaq (supreme guide) in Bombay. In January 1914, this school had 85 boys and 65 girls, with six teachers; in 1917, it had 221 students (135 boys, 86 girls), and in 1925 260 students (167 boys, 93 girls). In 1929, the school was integrated into the grant-in-aid system; in 1939, the number of students was 206 boys and 105 girls (Turki 1987: 246-7). The school was accommodated in a building in Darajani. 5. TheKuvatul Islam Madrasa (1912) for the children of the Khōja Shī a Ithnā ashara community, a group of Khōja Ismā īlīs which had split off from the Aga Khan group and became Ithnā ashara. In January 1914, this school had 85 boys and 25 girls, with four teachers. In 1917 these numbers had risen to 110 boys and 55 girls, in 1925 to 50 boys and 120 girls. According to the 1917 Pearce report, the ‘accommodation in its present condition is altogether unsuitable for a school’ (ZNA AB 1/224). The school was not in the grant-in-aid the colonial period i: schools 229 scheme and remained, until 1935, purely religious. In 1935, however, the school changed its curriculum and started to teach secular disciplines in cooperation with the SESM. In 1948, the school had three teachers and around 100 students. From 1949, the school was grant- in-aided. In later years, some smaller schools were added, namely: 6. Theujjatul Islam School (1917), a small boys’ school for the non-Khōja Ithnā ashara community; the ujjatul Islam school had 18 students in 1917 and 68 in 1925. 7. TheMulla Raza School (1917), a privately funded and mixed school which catered for the needs of the non-Khōja Ithnā ashara community and was probably also known under the name of ‘Kursum Bank Ithnā ashara school’; in 1917, the school had 32 boys and 35 girls. 8. The Gnan Verdhak Gujarati school (1917), which, like a number of Indian schools, remained a privately financed school that never entered the grant-in-aid scheme. In 1917, this school had 88 students (all boys). 9. TheDevji Master School (1917), a (Hindu) boys’ school, also a privately funded school; the school had 61 students in 1917 and 40 students in 1925. 10. The Datu or ‘Datubhai’ (‘brother Datu’) Hemani Ithnāashara (Kanyashala) Girls’ School (1920), funded from a waqf set up by the Indian trader ‘Datubhai’ Hemani, in 1920. In 1936, the school was integrated into the grants-in-aid system. In 1939, the school had 102 students (Turki 1987: 249). In 1945, the number of students was 96, 138 in 1949, 106 in 1950, 135 in 1951 and 173 in 1954. In 1949, the school had seven teachers; the headmistress was J.B. Balsara, a prominent member of the Parsee community. 11. TheHindu Kanya Vidyalaya (1923) or ‘Hindu Free Girls’ School’. This school had 50 students in 1923, 94 in 1925; 110 in 1929, 187 in 1933, 163 in 1939, 310 in 1945 (Turki 1987: 248). In 1951, the school had 245 students, in 1954 545, while the number of teachers rose from 16 in 1948 to 17 in 1954. In the 1940s and 1950s, the headmistress was Mrs. Arjani. The school was integrated into the grant-in-aid system in 1926. 12. TheJoshi Master’s Private Gujarati School (1925), a private boys’ school; it had 40 students in 1925. 13. TheHoorbhai Kanyashala School (1925), a private girls’ school; it had 75 students in 1925. This school was actually a second school 230 chapter five for the girls of the Indian Ithnā ashara community and was financed by the ‘Hoorbhai’ waqf. 14. TheĀrya Kanya Vidyalaya (1925/1926) or ‘Ārya Samāj Free Girls’ school’; this school had a roll of 83 girls in 1929, 134 in 1943. In 1943, the school became grant-in-aided. 15. TheHindu (sic) Sunni Madrasa (1940) or ‘Cutchi Sunni Madrasa’ in Mkunazini, for the ‘Memon’ community; this school was established by al-ājj Ismā īl al-Arakh and his brother al-ājj Amed al-Arakh, a wealthy Indian merchant family; the school was managed by the Hindi Muslim Sunni Jamat; it had afternoon (Qur ānic and religious studies) classes, as its students went to the SESM in the morning. It had 150 students in 1940. In the 1940s and 1950s, its directors were M.A. Kureshi and M.M. Patel (Turki 1987: 250). 16. The Hindu Sunni Community’s Girls School (1940) affiliated to the Hindu Sunni Madrasa but accommodated in the Memon Jamat Khana; it will therefore be treated in the discussion below as part of the Hindu Sunni Madrasa. 17. The Popat Master School (1944/1945), a private school for the Hindu community. 18. ThePota Master School (1944/1945, also a private school for the Hindu community. In addition to these schools in Unguja, three Indian schools existed in Pemba, probably from 1925 or 1926 (Turki 1987: 251ff), namely, the Chake Chake school, the Aga Khan school in Wete (which was taken over as a government school in 1957), as well as the ‘Hindu’ school in Wete. These schools had some few hundred students only, in the 1940s not more than 200, and few teachers, as only few Indians lived in Pemba. In 1946, there were five teachers, A.B. Patel being the headmaster of the Chake Chake school. Catholic Goan as well as Parsee students went to St. Joseph’s Convent School and the ‘Roman Catholic Urban’ school or to a government school in Unguja. These students were not included in the next chart on the development of Indian schools and student numbers in Zanzibar. It should also be mentioned that some of these schools were closed down in the colonial period due to financial problems or due to lack of students, while others merged with larger schools. Thus, the Kuvatul Islam school was closed in 1945 as most students moved to the SESM, yet, some classes still existed in 1949, when the school became grant-in-aided, as later reports on education show (ZNA AD 7/20). The chart below the colonial period i: schools 231 considers the three Indian schools in Pemba (which have been omitted in the general overview above). Both the SESM in Zanzibar and the Aga Khan School in Wete/Pemba disappeared from Indian school statistics in 1950 and 1957 respectively:3

year total no. ‘gia’- boys in girls in boys in girls in total no. of of schools gia- gia- pf- pf- students schools schools schools schools schools

1890 1 ------1905 2 ------1907 3 ------1910 4 ------1912 5 - - - - - 710 (1650) 1914 5 - 362 369 - - 731 1917 9 1 749 336 - - 1085 1920 10 1 - - - - c. 1000 1923 11 1 - - - - c. 1000 1925 14 2 1012 641 - - 1012 (c. 1936) 1926 17 3 1048 634 - - (1754) 1927 17 3 - - - - (1982) 1928 17 3 - - - - (1954) 1929 17 4 - - - - 1438 1930 17 4 - - - - 1402 1931 17 5 - - - - 1144 1932 17 5 1062 553 375 299 1307 (2289) 1933 17 5 - - - - 1540 1934 17 5 - - - - 1701 1935 17 5 - - - - 1469 1936 17 6 891 671 371 285 1306 (2318)

3 The statistical overview of the development of Indian schools, as presented in this and the following charts, is based on files ZNA AB 1/6, 15, 36, 78, 79, 86, 97, 116, 121, 137, 155, 224 (Pearce report, 1917), 347, 358, 393, 443, 449, 468, AB 22/48, AD 1/115, 123, 126, 127, 129, 130, 132, 135, AD 7/20 (Indian education 1945), AD 7/21, AD 38/8, AH 43/1 and BA 5/19, BA 5/34ff (annual reports), as well as the Furley- Watson report on education and Turki’s thesis. The data, as far as known, are for both grant-in-aided (gia) as well as privately funded (pf) schools (numbers in brackets), although schools and their students that were not part of grant-in-aid schemes were not consistently registered in British colonial statistics until 1946, when statistical registration of privately funded schools and their (few remaining) students stopped completely. Student numbers also differed slightly, depending on whether they were registered at the beginning or the end of a school year. 232 chapter five

year total no. ‘gia’- boys in girls in boys in girls in total no. of of schools gia- gia- pf- pf- students schools schools schools schools schools 1937 17 6 - - - - 972 1938 17 6 1013 778 363 262 625 (2416) 1940 19 6 - - - - - 1945 21 7 - - - - - 1946 21 7 - - - - 2859 1947 21 7 - - - - 3286 1948 21 7 - - - - 3313 1949 21 8 - - - - 3308 1950 20 7 - - - - 2332 1951 20 7 - - - - 2384 1952 20 7 - - - - 2423 1953 20 7 - - - - 2375 1954 20 7 - - - - 2444 1955 20 7 - - - - 2554 1956 20 7 - - - - 2658 1957 19 7 - - - - 2617 1958 19 7 - - - - 2794 1959 19 7 - - - - 2864 1960 19 7 - - - - 3009 1961 19 7 - - - - 3068 1962 19 7 - - - - 3141 1963 19 7 - - - - 3210

These statistical data are not as clear-cut as they may seem: from 1924, the statistics distinguish, though not consistently, between independent (privately funded, pf) and grant-in-aided (gia) schools. From 1946, only grant-in-aided schools and their students were registered in annual reports. Also, some schools changed character over time. The SESM thus acquired a secondary school branch, but was not recorded as such in the education reports. The SESM was rather regarded, until 1950, as a grant-in-aided school. Only in 1950 did the government formally take control of the secondary school branch of the SESM and treat it as a branch of the GSS. The same happened to the Aga Khan School in Wete in 1957. The 1950 move of the SESM into government school statistics was expressed in a corresponding decline of student numbers from 3308 (1949) to 2332 (1950) in the statistics. Statistics also differentiate from time to time, but again not the colonial period i: schools 233 consistently, between boys’, girls’ and mixed schools. All (total) numbers above refer to boys and girls. Regarding student numbers, only students in privately funded schools were initially recorded in annual reports. As a growing number of Indian schools became grant-in- aided, the number of students in Indian schools varied considerably over time, in statistical terms, as these students were sometimes included in the statistics of the DeptoE and sometimes not. The considerable growth of the total number of Indian students was still remarkable: from the late 1920s, the number of Indian students in both grant-in-aided as well as privately funded schools was near or above 2000, in a population of 13,767 (census 1921); from the mid- 1940s, this number was near or above 3000. By 1938, the majority of Indian children were in school (Mapuri 1996: 42). By 1939, Indian schools had almost the same number of students as the government schools, of which there were more than twenty. In 1940, the first Indian student went to Makerere College and returned in 1943 (Turki 1987: 236).4 The syllabuses of the Indian schools were not very different from those in the government schools. One major difference was that each Indian school except the non-denominational SESM had its own religion syllabus. Despite the fact that most Indian schools were privately funded schools until the late 1920s, a majority followed the government school syllabus. Indian students could thus easily move to government schools. When this move of Indian students to government schools started in the 1930s, Indian students quickly made up to 50% of all students in both primary and secondary government schools in the 1930s and again from the early 1950s. All Indian schools taught the syllabus in Gujarati, though, while Kiswahili was introduced fairly late. In 1933, G.B. Johnson, the chief inspector of schools, in his report on the SESM, proposed the introduction of

4 With respect to staff development, Indian grant-in-aided schools had, in 1938, 32 male and 32 female teachers, as well as four secondary school teachers at the Gov- ernment Secondary School. By 1945, the number of teachers in the different Indian schools had risen to 26 at the SESM, 13 at the Aga Khan Boys’ School, 15 at the Aga Khan Girls’ School, 16 (8/8) at Muammadieh, 13 at the Hindu Kanya Vidyalaya School, 10 at the Ithnā ashara Girls’ School, 9 (1/8) at the Ārya Samāj Girls’ School, 2 at the Sunni Girls’ School, 10 at St. Joseph’s Convent School, and one teacher at the Roman Catholic Urban school. In addition, there were a number of teachers in the three Indian schools in Pemba, Wete, Chake Chake and Kengeja (Mkoani), that were not included in the statistics (ZNA AD 7/20). In 1938, government primary schools had a staff of 81 male and 19 female teachers. 234 chapter five

Kiswahili and this idea was accepted by M.A. Kureshi in a letter of 29 October 1935: ‘it is not at all desirable that Kiswahili, the language of this district should not be taught in Indian schools’ (ZNA AB 1/393). The 1916 annual report (ZNA AB 1/224) already contained some information on the Indian school syllabuses. The teaching of the Qur ān and Diāna in the Muslim Indian schools, as in the syllabus (I, this number also relates to the numbers of the syllabuses analyzed in chapter 10) of the last class of the Madrasat al-Mu ammadieh, had a central role (the ‘teaching hour’ is 50 minutes):

day 8-8.50 a.m. 8.55-9.45 a.m. 10-10.50 a.m. 10.55-11.45 a.m.

Monday Qur ān/ Gujarati revision of Qur ān diāna reading/ tables/ ibid. ibid. writing Dictation ibid. ibid. Tuesday ibid. ibid. ibid. ibid. Wednesday ibid. ibid. ibid. ibid. Thursday ibid. ibid. ibid. ibid. Saturday ibid. ibid. ibid. ibid. Sunday ibid. ibid. ibid. ibid.

In Arabic, the syllabus of the Madrasat al-Mu ammadieh for the first three years was set up in the following way (ZNA AB 1/224): First year: reading, alphabet, combinations of two letters with vowel sounds, simple words of not more than 4 letters, work on blackboard only. Second year: Reading: combination of two words and easy sentences from simple readers, such as al-ija wa-l-muāla a. Third year: Reading: the whole of first reading book, e.g. al-ija wa-l- muāla a or an equivalent. In ‘Islamic Religious Instruction’ the syllabus provided for the following program in the same period of time: First year: juz amma, simple religious observances; Second year: Qur ān: to 3rd chapter, qad sami a, elementary biography of Muammad, duty to God; Third year: Qur ān: ten chapters, principles of Islam. The syllabus of the SESM for the same year for primary IV had a totally secular character: the colonial period i: schools 235

day 8-8.50 8.55-9.45 10-10.50 10.55-11.45 2-2.50 2.55-3.45 Monday English hygiene object l. Gujarati arith. geography Tuesday ibid. translation history ibid. ibid. writing Wednesday ibid. hygiene English ibid. ibid. geography Thursday ibid. translation history ibid. ibid. writing Friday ibid. object l. English ibid. ibid. geography

Due to the different school philosophies of the Indian community schools, the syllabuses retained some differences which blocked efforts at centralization. In 1948, a syllabus committee5 finally met in order to establish a common syllabus for the Indian schools, and this unified syllabus was finally adopted by the Hindu Kanya Vidyalaya, the ‘Datubhai’ Hemani Ithnā ashara Girls’ School, the Madrasat al-Mu ammadieh, the Hindu Sunni Madrasa, the Aga Khan’s Provincial Board of Education and thus, all Khōja Ismā īlī schools, but not those of the Bohora community. School disciplines were English language and literature, empire history, geography, Urdu, Gujarati, mathematics, chemistry, physics, hygiene, general science and physiology for primary schools. These disciplines were also obligatory for the grant-in-aided schools (ZNA AD 1/115). Apart from the government school disciplines, Urdu, Gujarati and history of India were taught as well. The SESM teachers complained about a heavy emphasis on English language education and protested against the strong emphasis on classical Indian history, in particular, the archaeological excavations in Taxila, Mohenjo Daro and Harappa, which were seemingly dear to British educators. According to some Indian teachers, this historical focus was ‘beyond the capacity of boys as well as beyond that of Gujarati knowing teachers. A modern touch should be introduced into the syllabus’ (letter 13.2.1946, ZNA AD 7/21). The Indian community was also split, however, over the question as to when English as the medium of instruction should start: a minority of the syllabus committee supported the idea of starting with English from form I, while a majority of six voices (against four) supported the idea that English should

5 The members of the committee were M.A. Kureshi, A.R. Arjani, S.M. Chaud- huri, M.H. Patel, M.A. Shukhla, Qurbanhusayn, Mohanlal M. Joshi, T.B. Raval, N.N. Rana, U.I. Khatry and F.K. Bhaiji, the Indian education officer. 236 chapter five start in form III only and Gujarati be phased out slowly. The main problem was that not all Indians spoke Gujarati, although the majority did (letter 25.9.1948, ZNA AD 1/115). However, due to the high degree of education, virtually all Indian communities reached full alphabetization in the late colonial period. The British colonial administration was quick to realize the importance of Indian efforts to develop modern education and recorded these efforts in their files. Control of the Indian schools thus became a topic in colonial files. Efforts at gaining control over the Indian schools suffered, however, from the fact that the Indian community in Zanzibar was split into a large number of competing groups that were never willing to unite more than formally, and, as a consequence, were difficult to ‘control’. The Indian population was never able to overcome its internal divisions and to develop a uniform religious studies syllabus. Due to these internal divisions, as well as the Khōja and Bohora split, the SESM was accommodated in several buildings within Stone Town. The British administration eventually realized that ‘religious differences appear to be insurmountable obstacles to community centralization’ (ZNA AB 1/137). The perspectives of development of the Indian schools were discussed in a number of administrative reports at a rather early point of time. Thus, the 1913 annual report on the condition of the Indian schools as written by the DoE, Rivers-Smith, pointed out some of the structural shortcomings of the Indian schools. Whereas Indian schools such as the SESM were presented as private schools that catered for the needs of the Indian population without a religious syllabus, government schools taught the Qur ān, as well as ‘principles and ethics of Islam’, and were, thus, rejected by the non-Muslim Indians. According to the Rivers-Smith report of 1913 (ZNA AB 1/224), the Indian schools were characterized by ‘lack of discipline, overcrowd- ing, multiplication of classes, lack of method in the instruction, bad arrangement of class rooms and unsuitable furniture’ and Rivers- Smith continued: After a careful consideration of the whole question of Indian education in Zanzibar, I am of the opinion that an effort should be made to find a working basis whereby the Government obtained a measure of control without pauperizing the Indians by accepting altogether financial responsibility. There are many difficulties to be overcome, the chief of which are class and religious prejudices. the colonial period i: schools 237

The Rivers-Smith report also made the first ever recommendations for a future British education policy as far as Indian schools were concerned (ZNA AB 1/224): I suggest that an Education Committee be appointed to investigate the whole question. The first work of such a Committee would be to ascertain: 1. Whether the several Communities would accept responsibility for the religious instruction of children of the different sects. 2. Whether they would agree to a syllabus of religious instruction spread over the whole school course instead of, as now, completing it before secular instruction is commenced. 3. Having accepted (1) and (2) whether they would agree to a common syllabus of secular instruction to be approved by the Government. 4. Whether the different communities would give financial support to a scheme which aimed at centralisation, with schools of different grade—Infant, Elementary and Primary—common to all castes and creeds. Having obtained the above information, it would then be the duty of the Committee to continue its investigations, and to determine, amongst others, the following questions: 1. School fees. 2. An education rate or other means of raising money to meet anyin- crease of expenditure. 3. Syllabus of instruction suitable to Zanzibar. 4. School books and material. 5. Suitability of buildings at present used as schools. 6. Qualifications of teachers at present employed. 7. An inspectorate for Indian schools. 8. Public government examinations for Indian schools. 9. Grants-in-Aid to private schools. In 1916, another inquiry into the Indian schools was conducted, again criticizing the conditions at these schools and calling for government action, especially as the grant-in-aid system did not yet provide the government with more control over the Indian schools. These considerations were mentioned in the 1917 Pearce report on education, when the British resident remarked, with respect to the Indian schools, ‘These later might be allowed to continue under the supervision of the Director of Education, and would receive annual grants from Government, if they fulfilled Government requirements, as regards curriculum, sanitation, hours of attendance, etc. These requirements might, as time went on, be more exacting’, an idea that already been raised in the 1913 Rivers-Smith report. The 1917 report (ZNA AB 1/224) continued: ‘I now beg to summarize my proposals, 238 chapter five that the Indian community schools be permitted to continue, provided they accept the Government educational code, and they conform to Government requirements in all respects. They will receive a Government grant-in-aid as long as they conform to such conditions’. Pearce also discussed the issue of government control over Indian schools and said (ZNA AB 1/224): It was hoped that these private schools, which of course include the Indian community establishments, would thus (by accepting ‘grant-in- aid’ status, RL) come automatically under the control of the Government with regard to the most important essentials of their educational management, and the necessity to rush into legislation would be avoided. Like the Christian Mission Schools, the Indian communities being wealthy and financially independent, with one exception, have preferred to refuse the grants-in-aid, and so maintain their independence. It is obvious that Government should possess control over such establishments, and the attempt to gain that control by means of grants having proved abortive, it appears necessary to do so by legislation. Only the advisory council on education, which was set up in 1920 (see chapter 6.2.), developed a first clear concept for the development of Indian education, however. The only Indian member of this committee was the President of the Indian National Association, Yusufali Esmailji Jivanji (B86) of the Khōja Ismā īlī community. The introduction of Gujarati as a language of instruction for the Indian students was recommended in particular for the government schools, and implemented. As a consequence, the number of Indian students in government schools grew considerably from the mid-1920s. Also, the Indian community asked to open a commercial school (Turki 1987: 217), a step realized in 1923 (see chapter 6). A major problem affecting development of the Indian schools was lack of funds. From the very beginning, the Indian schools were caught in the dilemma of trying to achieve some degree of integration into the government schools system while at the same time refusing government control over their syllabuses. The colonial government, on the other side, refused to open government schools for Indians due to Indian demands to modify the syllabus to suit Indian educational needs (such as the teaching of Gujarati), whereas the Indian communities again refused to send their children to government schools as long as these were seen as catering to the needs of ‘Africans’ (or Arabs) only, who were regarded as being ‘below’ Indian standards. To achieve some sort of common standard in education, the the colonial period i: schools 239 grants-in-aid system, which had initially been introduced to support mission schools, was extended in 1916 to the SESM, which thus became the first Indian school to receive an unconditional grant. In exchange, the SESM accepted a certain degree of compatibility with the government school syllabus as well as financial control (Turki 1987: 212). An appendix to a memorandum of the DoE, W. Hendry, of 1934 (ZNA AB 1/468), reveals that the Managing Committee of the SESM had applied for a grant-in-aid of 1.000 rupees for the first time in 1916. This grant-in-aid increased in size each year, until the government decided to take over both financial and general control of the school in 1922. The government grant-in-aid to the school covered its annual deficit and grew in later years from ₤2116 in 1940 to ₤6262, covering 75% of school expenditures. The SESM files show that schools that were receiving grants-in-aid had to accept British ideas and proposals as to how to run the school. Links to Indian banking houses in Bombay were seemingly not sufficient to provide enough funds for the development of the schools at all times (ZNA AB 1/347; ZNA AB 1/78; ZNA AB 1/36ff). The files on the SESM also show that at a comparatively early point of time the British colonial administration used enquiries and petitions from Indians, asking for financial support for their schools in the form of ‘grants-in-aid’, in order to influence the schools: first, with respect to hygiene, sanitation and building, later also with respect to questions of general development and school politics. A condition for the allocation of grants-in-aid was, for instance, that ‘no text book shall be introduced or retained in any school without the approval of the Director of Education’ (ZNA AB 1/36). The grant-in-aid scheme thus provided a major tool for the control and management of the school. In order to improve the quality of the Indian schools, including standards of teaching and equipment, as well as to achieve some uniformity of the syllabuses, the grant-in-aid system was opened, in 1924, to other Indian private schools. Yet, the Khōja Ismā īlī as well as the Bohora communities’ insistence on independent schools for their own communities thwarted the efforts, under the leadership of the Indian National Association, to achieve a uniform solution for all Indian schools. The Khōjas, in particular, were not willing to accept the leadership of the INA in education. This was mostly due to the fact that the INA also represented Hindu and Sunni-Muslim communities. As a consequence, all Indian communities followed 240 chapter five the example of the Ismā īlīs and tried to come to terms with the grant-in-aid system as individual bodies (Turki 1987: 223). Eventually (1949), the grant-in-aid scheme was extended to eight Indian schools, namely the SESM (1916/1922-1950), Shī a Imāmī/Aga Khan Boys’ School (1925), the Hindu Kanya Vidyalaya (1926), the Madrasat al-Mu ammadieh (1929), the Shī a Imāmī/Aga Khan Girls’ School (1931), the ‘Datubhai’ Hemani Ithnā ashara Girls’ School (1936), the Ārya Kanya Vidyalaya (1943), and the Kuvatul Islam School (1949). The rules for grants-in-aid to private schools were finally discussed and codified by the LegCo and a decree of 27 November 1956 set up a revised system of regulation with the object of encouraging private enterprise in education among the various communities. Grants-in- aid were subsequently administered by an ‘Educational Advisory Committee’. A managing committee was responsible for each school. Conditions for grants were that the school was not conducted for private profit; that the income of the school was used exclusively for the purpose of education; that accounts were being kept; that the school provided or showed promise of providing, within a stated period, at least the first four standards of primary education; that the school provided educational facilities to students not provided for (in the same locality) by government or other schools; that the school conformed to the regulations of an ‘Appendix A’ which detailed, amongst others, that the DoE was entitled to visit any school at any time; that the system of discipline should be ‘satisfactory’; that the hours of instruction and recreation had to be approved by the DoE and that the school buildings had to be in a satisfactory state. These regulations were revised in 1959 and in 1961 (ZNA AD 38/8). In the meantime, most Indian schools continued to suffer from lack of trained staff and badly equipped schools. In 1929, a first scheme for the training of Indian teachers was proposed, but came to nothing. The idea was resumed in 1937, only to be shelved in 1938, as ‘the supply of candidates would not justify expenditure on the establishment of the proposed training school for Indian teachers’. In 1949, the question was discussed again in the context of an East African teacher training scheme that proposed a Teacher Training College for Indian teachers which was eventually established in Nairobi, in 1950, as an inter-territorial training centre for Indian primary school teachers. In 1949/1950, a scholarship program for students from Zanzibar was started and some Zanzibaris were chosen the colonial period i: schools 241 to go to India for studies. This programme might have come as a reaction to the refusal of the British colonial administration to grant scholarships for studies abroad, in particular at SOAS, to students of the Shī a Ithnā ashara group: according to the colonial administration, such a privilege would have quickly been claimed by other Indian groups (ZNA AD 20/54). Also, the appointment of an Indian inspector for the Indian schools had already been discussed in 1933 and 1934, and was implemented in 1936, limiting the tasks of G.B. Johnson, the inspector of schools, who could not speak Gujarati. The Indian schools were thus removed from his field of responsibilities and P.G. Padhye became first Indian inspector of Indian schools (ZNA AB 1/443). From 1933, the colonial government also tried to reorganize the Indian schools by dissolving the smaller schools (in 1933) and merg- ing them with the SESM, in order to bring that school up to a number of 800 students. These plans misfired, however, as the respective communities were not willing to abandon their respective schools, although the British were pressing them to do so by pointing out the advantages of the grant-in-aid system; in particular, the Khōja Ismā īlīs were not impressed (letter 17.7.1933, ZNA AB 1/6). Still, Indian education was eventually reorganized after the publication of a ‘Memo randum on Educational Grants-in-Aid’ by the Advisory Committee on Education in the Colonies. The Zanzibar Advisory Council on Education accepted the proposals of the memorandum and implemented a number of reforms: secondary school education for Indian students was henceforth concentrated at the SESM, while schools which had offered comparable courses, such as St. Joseph’s or the Bohora and Khōja-Ismā īlī schools, were reorganized (Furley/ Watson 1978: 129). In the context of these administrative reorganiza- tions, the government took over full financial administration of the SESM in 1934/35. Yet, the Indian managing committee was not dissolved, although the teachers asked for a complete administrative take-over of the school by the government (ZNA AB 1/36ff and ZNA AD1/116ff). British initiatives to reorganize Indian education in the 1930s led to major protests by the Khōja Ismā īlī community. The Khōja Ismā īlī community in fact claimed to have developed the best schools, not only in Zanzibar, but in East Africa as a whole, and felt marginalized by British efforts to amalgamate the Indian schools. The ‘Ismaila Khoja Schools/Aga Khan Financial Policy’ file (ZNA AB 242 chapter five

1/468) extensively covers the development of the Ismā īlī community in Zanzibar. A report by the Aga Khan on the educational grievances of the Khōja Ismā īlī group of 22 June 1934, mentioned in particular that student numbers at the Indian schools had grown considerably in recent decades, yet government support was not forthcoming, although government schools, as far as Arabs and ‘natives’ were concerned, were free of fees. Also, the Protectorate Government confined its support to government schools for Arabs and ‘natives’, while the Aga Khan Boys’ School had received grants-in-aid in 1925 only. Equally, grants-in-aid to Indian schools were not on the same level as the support awarded to government schools. In his general conclusions, the Aga Khan repeated his demand for equality of treatment, including financial support, in particular as the Ismā īlī community had always been ‘a bulwark against the adoption by Indians in East Africa on a widespread scale of the civil disobedience which again and again has been so disturbing a factor in the life of India itself in the past dozen years’. The Aga Khan also asked for a ‘consistent policy of non-discriminatory grants-in-aid, which will be dependent upon teaching staffs and results and not upon whether an institution belongs to this or the other community’ (ZNA AB 1/468). In a response to the ‘representations’ of the Aga Khan, the DoE, Hendry, on 19 October 1934 replied that the considerations of the Aga Khan were generally accepted to the extent that it would be meaningful to develop a uniform policy in the four territories (Zanzibar, Tanganyika, Kenya and Uganda) as far as education was concerned. It was not acceptable, however, that the government should take over responsibility for all existing schools for the maintenance of a ‘distinctive culture and religious outlook’ (ZNA AB 1/468). Hendry’s memorandum accepted that the larger Ismā īlī schools well deserved support from the government, but ‘that they should receive support to the detriment of other communities and races and beyond the means of the country is a proposal which cannot be entertained’ (ibid.). After pointing out that the British colonial administration had granted considerable financial support to Ismā īlī schools, the memorandum concluded: It may be well at this stage to remark that the association of Zanzibar Ismaili with complaints of ‘serious grievances and extreme sense of injustice’ felt by the East African followers of the Aga Khan comes as a complete surprise. The community has its characteristic system of governance with its own internal laws and customs. That system is, the colonial period i: schools 243

there is no doubt, in many ways admirable. It does, however, cause negotiations with the community to be complicated, protracted and at times somewhat trying...It is clear from this and from many passages in the memorandum that at no stage of school education, even at the secondary are the Ismailis willing to co-operate with other communities. On our efforts for improvement by centralisation we can but carry on without the Ismaili (ZNA AB 1/468). The insistence of the Khōja Ismā īlī community to be treated separately from other Indian communities continued in the 1940s. In a letter and memorandum by the Aga Khan’s Central Council of Education for Africa of 20 July 1946 as sent through the Governor of Kenya to the East African Governors’ Conference in Kenya, the Aga Khan again protested against the amalgamation of Indian schools: My complaints at that time were about the pressure then being brought by narrow-minded doctrinaire educational authorities here to compel the Ismaili children to join up with other Indian children in school... Even now the bureaucrats and schoolmasters, ignorant of all historical difference, are doing their best to drive our children to common schools with Hindoos and thus not only undermine our cultural individuality but drive our boys into hostility and vituperation of the British. The Ismailia community has indeed been the torch-bearer of education in this dark continent. At a period when there were no Indian schools of any description whatsoever in these territories, the Ismailia community through the generosity and benevolent, wise and farsighted leadership of H.H. The Aga Khan, were fortunate to possess a few schools....The Ismailia community has maintained a large number of schools even in the remotest villages....The position of the Ismailia schools in fairness to the community should be compared to the mission schools which receive liberal financial and other assistance from the governments of East Africa (ZNA AB 22/48). On 21 August 1946, the East African Governors’ Conference as represented by the DoE for Uganda, J.R. Cullen, eventually responded by saying: ‘I cannot think there is much ground for complaint about the treatment of the Ismaili community in the matter of education’. The Aga Khan’s memorandum was discussed again, though, by the East African Governors’ Conference in the context of a meeting on 9 October 1946. In a letter of 18 October 1946, the Aga Khan was then notified in rather uncommitted terms that theEast African Governors’ Conference ‘had taken note’ of his memorandum and that a letter had been sent to all local representatives of the Aga Khan that ‘the Aga Khan’s representations had been considered by the East 244 chapter five

African Governors´ Conference and that HH could rest assured that in the future, as in the past, his community would receive sympa- thetic consideration’ (ZNA AB 22/48).

5.4. The ‘Koran’ Schools: Only ‘Parrot Talk’?

British attitudes towards the Qur ānic schools can be viewed as being largely negative up to 1939/1940, and grudgingly accommodating from 1939/1940. Mirroring, in fact, the views of the religious scholars who tended to see the British government schools as a competing second pillar of education and as a threat to their own role in society, the British saw the Qur ānic schools as a latent threat to their endeavours to build a system of government schools and to foster their own claims for hegemony in the sphere of education. In the early years of the Protectorate, the Qur ānic schools were ignored as educational bodies. Over the years, however, the British colonial administration came to realize that the Qur ānic schools had considerable importance for Zanzibari society. The British colonial administration thus started to develop strategies to integrate Qur ānic school education into the colonial system of education. These efforts at integration were associated, as in the case of the Indian schools, with efforts at gaining control over the Qur ānic schools. The 1913 annual report on education, as written by the first DoE, Rivers-Smith (B232), reflected the negative assessment of the Qur ānic schools by the British and in a way started the ‘colonial mantra’ of accusing the Qur ānic schools of providing ‘meaningless education’: The atmosphere of a native conducted class, without European assistance and supervision, is essentially bad. The teacher lacks dignity, he has little idea of discipline and none of school method. The teaching may include a rudimentary instruction in Arabic writing but more often a verbal knowledge of the Koran is all that is attempted. This in Zanzibar is meaningless, as little or no Arabic is taught in these schools and Swahili is the domestic language even of the majority of the Arabs. It is difficult, to imagine anything more deadening to potential intellect than to read aloud from morning till evening, for a period of two or three years, words of which nothing is understood. But what is more important is that the wasted years are probably the most valuable of the child’s life. The question of puberty is of far greater moment in the intellectual development of the African than of the European. It is indeed true that the intellectual development in the tropics, the vital the colonial period i: schools 245

importance of bringing children under proper control at the earliest possible age is obvious (ZNA AB 1/224). Although the British rejected ‘Koran’ schools and Islamic education for a long period of time, they were quick to realize the social importance of Islamic education in Zanzibar, although Qur ānic schools did not feature in the statistics until the late 1930s. In 1913, Rivers- Smith thus concluded the first proper report on education with the following words: I have already deplored the influence of the Koran teacher in the town: but inasmuch as he exists and that, as a survival of a social and religious system of many centuries, he is likely to remain for some time, it is better to recognize his existence and seek to increase his usefulness or expedite his extinction. I recommended some years ago that every teacher should be registered, and that his school should be subject to inspection. There may be some who, under supervision, might serve a useful purpose in out-of-the-way villages. These should be encouraged by the assistance of small grants-in-aid similar to those paid in Egypt. The withholding of assistance from those who could not attain a certain standard might tend to diminish the number more particularly in the town where un-controlled, they can never serve any useful purpose (ZNA AB 1/224). In the years to come, the British cultivated their rejection of the ‘Koran’ schools in a mantra-like fashion that dominated British colonial discourses on the subject until the late 1930s. The 1916 report on education thus already contained a litany of negative statements on Islamic education: Qur ānic schools were accused of preventing children from entering government schools at an early point of time. Most of these Qur ānic schools were in an ‘inadequate’ condition, their consequences were ‘deplorable’, and ‘for these reasons we feel that children should not pass through the customary course of religious instruction before their entrance into the Government schools. Religious instruction must therefore be given in the Government schools’ (quoted in Crofton 1953: 35). Still, the report opposed the idea of interfering with existing Qur ānic schools and trusted that parents would sooner or later become more ‘sensible’. For similar reasons, a standard syllabus for Qur ānic schools should not be developed. Rather, ‘all schools may be influenced through the grant (in aid) scheme and all schools are bound to be influenced by the fact that the Primary Certificate will alone command access to the special 246 chapter five courses’ (Crofton 1953: 39). In the conclusion of his 1917 report on education, Resident Pearce summarized these ideas: ...reference must be made to what are styled Koran schools. From the modern educational point of view, they are of no great value, except that they teach a large number of Arabs and Swahili children the elements of reading and writing in Arabic; but as a means of mental development or of attaining modern knowledge of science, they are useless... At the same time it will be impossible to dispense with them. The learning of the Koran is a most serious obligation on a Muslim, and the education of the Koran school is the only education which the great majority of Zanzibar Arabs have ever received; and they regard them as a necessity, both from an educational and from a religious point of view. The parents of every child whether of Arab or of Zanzibar birth consider it essential or at any rate most desirable, that their offspring should receive from the age of 5 years a thorough grounding in the Koran, and they prefer to attain this object by the old fashioned method in a Koran school; these schools exist in every village amongst the Swahilis and are numerous in Zanzibar Town. Pearce’s report suggested that the government had ‘to bow to the requirements of the Muslim Communities in this respect’, and that an hour’s instruction in the Qur ān should be given in the government school. Still, many parents would consider the time allotted for serious religious instruction to be insufficient. Pearce proposed, as a consequence, and in order to demonstrate that the extension of education facilities in the Protectorate did not imply interference with religious convictions, that it would be advisable, to attach to each district school at least one Koran teacher, to be paid by Government, who would continue to impart daily instruction of the Koran to those children whose parents desired it, while the method adopted for teaching this subject should be left to the discretion of the teacher, who would be under the directions and supervision of the four Kathis or native judges; these Kathis would be expected to visit perio- dically all schools, and ascertain and report that the religious instruction was carried out in a proper manner (ZNA AB 1/224). The 1925 report again conceded that ‘Koran’ schools had been ignored, so far, but that up to the present time the registration of such schools had not been required. It was therefore impossible to say how many Qur ānic schools existed, but seeing that there is one in practically every village, and a number in the town, the total must run into hundreds. In the villages these schools are usually conducted on the baraza of the teacher’s house and the the colonial period i: schools 247

children squat on the floor and repeat passages from the Kuran in the Arabic language until they know them by heart. They also learn the Arabic alphabet in order to be able to write, in Arabic characters, passages from the Koran. Beyond this no further instruction is given. Boys remain at these schools for periods varying from one to three years depending on the facility with which they cover the course. The fact that a large number of Arab and African parents are still unwilling that their children should forego attendance at these schools as a preliminary to their secular education is one of the real obstacles which education has still to overcome in Zanzibar. The small religious instruction books referred to in the last year’s report are still in the hands of the printer but will be taken into use in district schools as soon as they are published. It may be said, however, that religious instruction as at present given in government schools is superior to anything offered in Kuran schools and it is to be hoped that this fact will become more and more generally appreciated when the new religious textbooks are eventually in use. It cannot be seriously said that Koran schools make any real contribution to meet the educational needs of the Protectorate. They are in fact a hindrance to progress (ZNA BA 5/3; PRO CO 688/5). The 1927 annual report mentioned briefly, with respect to ‘Kuran and Islam’: ‘The syllabus was revised and it was decided to maintain instruction in Arabic writing’ (see also chapter 6.3.), and a report by G.B. Johnson on the ‘Inspection of schools’ in 1929 read: On the part of the villagers, there is still a great deal of indifference towards education, and also a good deal of suspicion and prejudice. The Koran school teacher continues to be one of the great obstacles to progress. In the development of public schools he sees a potential loss of private revenue. The true interests of the children are obscured by this fact and do not concern him. The fact that the Koran is well taught in Government schools does not convince the parents that where Govern- ment schools exist the Koran school is a redundant institution tending to block the path of advancement (ZNA BA 5/3; PRO CO 688/5). Some British notions on ‘Koran’ schools became well known as they were presented in the popular literature on the history of the Empire and life in the colonies. Harold W. Ingrams (1897-1973; B213), a colonial officer who had a ‘short stint’ in Zanzibar in 1924 before moving to Hadramaut (Freitag 2003: 379; see chapter 6), thus seems to have been the source of the ‘parrot talk’ ‘theme’ which became a popular short form for describing the tradition of learning-by-rote in Qur ānic schools in Zanzibar (Bang 2003: 184). In Zanzibar, he established contact with Amad b. Sumay, who gave him a letter of 248 chapter five introduction for his first visit to Hadramaut. In Zanzibar: its history and its people, Ingrams wrote: The correct repetition of the Koran is said to be meritorious, and pre- sumably this is the only benefit derived by the scholars. The uselessness of this repetition seems well recognized by the intelligent Arabs and by the Kadhis, one of whom referred to it to me as ‘maneno ya kasuku’ (a parrot’s words), but said, ‘who was to expound it to them’ (229/230)… While every little village has its mosque which is kept up by the villagers, and its Koran schools, which every child attends, to learn and become efficient in the parrot-like repetition of the Koran in a foreign tongue, which even the teacher does not understand, for several dreary years, the veneer of Islam is but a flimsy veil for the simpler beliefs of the African (Ingrams 1931: 433). A basic problem for the development of Islamic education in Zanzibar was that the British colonial administration saw education primarily as a way of conveying marketable skills that would be useful in particular for the needs of the administration of the Protectorate, while Muslims in Zanzibar viewed education primarily as a way of acquiring those social and religious skills that were required and basic in a society defined by religion: in Zanzibar, the ‘educated man is the man who knows Arabic and can discuss at length the interpretation of various suras of the Koran’ (Turki 1987: 88). The goal of Islamic education was to produce a good Muslim as well as a gentleman, a person aware of good manners (adabu), good moral conduct and self-restraint (heshima), with ‘sound judgment’ (akili) based on his knowledge of the Qur ān, and a lively intellect in the ‘sense of scrupulous honour’ (ari) (Turki 1987: 89). British aversions against ‘Koran’ schools were so strong, however, that they did not consider integrating the Qur ānic schools into the grant-in-aid scheme, although the government had started to support grant-in-aid schemes for mission schools and Indian schools and financed religious (Islamic) teaching at the government schools. From the 1930s, however, the British increasingly tried to explain the failure of the government schools and to find a solution for the government school crisis. The 1935 report on education (ZNA BA 5/9 and PRO CO 688/12) thus accepted that, boys in these schools (i.e., the Qur ānic schools, RL) get better treatment and accommodation. When a boy is hitimu he is taught general religion. Writing is also included in the curriculum in many of these schools which are almost all found in town. However, these schools are very the colonial period i: schools 249

few compared with those under African teachers...If a teacher dies and his wife happens to know the Koran, she usually takes the place of her late husband. As women are kinder and their hearts are tender, they are more suitable for the teaching of small boys than are men. General: They are run on just the same lines as those schools under male Arab teachers. Such schools are very few indeed. A female can teach both boys and girls but each sex sits separately. The 1936 annual report was again self-critical when rationalizing the failure of British education policies as being due to ‘a) Arab opposition to Swahili as the medium of instruction, and, as the African has in the past merely echoed the Arab view, this meant general opposition to the use of Swahili, b) the Latin script and c) the general apathy regarding secular knowledge’ (PRO CO 688/13). The need to find solutions for the ‘problem’ of Qur ānic school education was eventually summarized by Muammad Abeid al-ājj, a teacher who had been transferred to the mudirial (district) branch of the administration in Mkoani/Pemba, in a letter to Assistant District Commissioner Hollingsworth of 2 December 1936 (ZNA AB 1/82). This letter was annexed to the 1935 annual report of the DeptoE and became common wisdom in Zanzibar’s administrative circles. As it was used by the British administration to justify first steps in reform of the education system, and was referred to frequently in internal communications, this letter is quoted here at length, although it still reproduces colonial concepts of Islamic education as being essentially ‘useless’: As it is the desire of every Muhammadan to have his child ‘hitimu’, that is to complete the whole course of the Koran which is thirty chapters, called ‘juzu’, the first thing he thinks of, is to send his child to one of these schools; some of them are mixed, that is boys and girls studying together. So when the child reaches the age of about six, the father selects a teacher or ‘Mwalim’ and they decide about the fees which vary according to the financial position of the parent. Rupees thirty is the standard price. When a boy hitimus some poor parents plead with the Mwalim for reduction. In the poor areas the fees are often Rs. 20. It is a matter of bargaining...A boy of average intelligence will hitimu within three years, but the dullards may take even six: of course it depends on the ability of the teacher. When the father brings him to the school he pays two rupees as the customary entrance-fee, called in Kiswahili ‘ufito’, which means stick: The expression very well illustrates the atmosphere of the majority of such schools where the teacher rules by fear rather than by love. There is no special time of year for admitting children into such schools: thus you get twenty or thirty boys squatting in front of the 250 chapter five

teacher each reading loudly a different verse. The boys are usually put into an unventilated room, but in some cases a ‘baraza’ is used. In some of the poor schools, the boys are not even provided with proper mats to sit on, and in practically all cases the floor is not cemented. No wonder that in some of these schools you will find half the boys infes- ted with jiggers. In many of these schools teachers will not bother about cleanliness. The health of the boys is of no importance to them. The boy is first taught the Arabic alphabet which is presented to him in a dry and uninteresting way. When he has finished learning the alphabet he is then taught the combination of letters in monosyllables which have no meaning whatsoever. That is like writing two or more letters which bear no meaning at all, but teaches the boys to pronounce them together...Expert Arab teachers and those in the Government schools use words which have some meaning...After mastering this, the boy is given the 30th juzu, which is called Ama, instead of the 1st juzu, because the 30th is easiest and there are many short verses which the boys must know by heart so that they can repeat them in their daily prayers. When the boy is found to be making satisfactory progress, he starts the first juzu onwards to the 30th again. At this stage he pays a rupee as permission to use the Koran or ‘msahafu’ but if he is dull he goes on reading the 29th and 28th juzus, for they are also simpler than the first juzu. In such schools only the Koran is taught. There are two or three monitors (called ‘wanafunzi wakubwa’) in every school. They are the big boys who have completed the Koran several times but whose fathers prefer to keep them in the school longer while they collect sufficient money to pay the teacher. The teacher also does not bother to get rid of these boys as, apart from helping him in teaching the younger boys in his absence, they also pay the usual fees as described below, and the teacher likes to have as many pupils as possible so that people will say that he is a good teacher and for this reason has more pupils than the other schools. There are several ways of punishing the pupils. The teacher uses his stick so frequently that it puts the boys in a constant state of fear. If a boy is found talking and turning round every now and then, the teacher puts a stone on his head or under his chin and he has to sit in that position for a long time all the while employing his brain both on chanting and balancing the stone. If he is unlucky and drops the stone he gets a hiding. A truant when caught is put in stocks called in Kiswa- hili ‘mkatale’. He has to remain with his feet chained together for the whole day. Somehow the parents do not object at all to such methods of punishment. Now let us see the impression which a boy gets when he is first admitted into such schools. He finds the teacher stern, severe and in most cases unmerciful. He never hesitates in using his stick which is always by his side. The boy comes from home fresh in mind, unstained and tender. He at once finds himself plunged into an atmosphere the effect of which is indisputably harmful... the colonial period i: schools 251

There is a Koran school in practically every village; the teacher is always a man who was born and bred in the village and is regarded as a religious man and therefore respected by all. This man gets his living from his school and the introduction of Government schools has been a blow to him and he naturally resents it. He goes round to the parents spreading false information. He is very influential and can much more easily make himself believed than the Government teacher who is always regarded as a stranger. Let us take one example to illustrate the influence of a Koran teacher to the villagers. Suppose a boy has been flogged and has marks on his body, maybe he is bleeding. If the boy goes home and complains, the parents will return him to the Koran teacher and ask him to give the boy more caning. Now in the case of a Government teacher it is quite the reverse. If a boy is slightly hurt the father will make a great fuss about it and in many cases will take advantage of the incident and stop his son from attending the school. The man behind this is, to my mind, the Koran teacher. Will it not be better to get this man working with the Govern- ment school? A scheme might be started whereby a Koran teacher could be examined by the Sunni Association, and if found to be of the required standard and if his school were found satisfactory he could be given some aid from the fund of the Association or from the Waqf Commis- sioner to improve the school by cementing the floor, buying mats and so on and perhaps some allowances for himself. This will certainly encourage the Koran teachers to learn more and after a certain period say ten years, no Koran teacher should be allowed to start a school unless he obtains a certificate from this Association...Such Koran schools would be opened in the afternoon only. The boys should attend the Government schools in the morning. If we could get the help of this influential man, the Koran teacher, to work together with, instead of against the Government teachers the difficulties of school attendance would disappear (ZNA AB 1/82). In a series of memoranda and minutes, the British discussed these proposals. Finally, the letter was passed on to the government teachers in both Unguja and Pemba for consideration and discussion. On both islands ‘a verdict was returned against the suggestion to transfer religious instruction to the Koran school’. The opinion of the majority was that ‘the deletion of such an important subject from the curriculum would seriously impair the prestige of the school and intensify the hostility of parents’. Teachers were also opposed to this idea as ‘the average Koran teacher is not well enough educated to assimilate and adopt modern methods’. The right line of advance would be to persevere in the efforts to establish confidence in the religious education system as provided in Government schools by 252 chapter five well qualified teachers ‘who follow sensible methods, are alive to the importance of this part of their work, and are producing results which must in the long run convince parents that the Kuran school has become a redundant institution’ (ZNA AB 1/82). In a letter of 28 August 1937 titled ‘Suggested Control of Kuran Schools’ (ZNA AB 1/82), the DoE summarized the debate and pointed out that the Council was not in favour of subsidizing ‘Kuran’ schools. In a further note of 29 September 1937, the Acting British Resident maintained, however that the improvement of the Qur ānic schools would be in the interest of the colonial administration and the ‘sound principle’ that existing institutions founded on the people’s own appreciation of their needs and having the support of religion and tradition, should be preserved and developed where possible, rather than that they should be looked upon as redundant and discouraged in favour of some other system imposed from outside...A greater regard for this principle would help to win the confidence of the people and break down the present attitude of hostility or indifference towards the educational efforts of Government in county districts (ZNA AB 1/82, dispatch 349). As late as 1939, the Acting DoE, Patrick Williams (B241), stressed the importance of religious instruction and the presence of local ‘Koran’ teachers in government schools while doubting the ‘pedagogic’ value of religious instruction, and then addressed the situation of the Dole ‘Rural Middle School’ (see also 5.5.): In government village schools the Koran is taught by Koran Teachers and they are paid a salary of 40/– p.m. with increments to 50/–...These teachers live in the village and are to some extent chosen by the people. Being locals, they have their own homes and shambas close to the schools. For the most part they are capable of teaching nothing more than the Koran. Religious instruction, i.e. explanation of the Koranic law and the guiding principles of the religion are beyond them. This elementary instruction in the Koran meets the desires of the parents of these children since the latter, being very young, are expected at that age to learn nothing else but the Koran...Dole school is, however, a different matter. Here we have boarders up to 18 years of age. On arrival at Dole i.e. the fifth year of their schooling they should have learnt the Koran. They should then proceed to religious instruction proper. In the past this instruction has been haphazard and, I fear, has not always been taken as a regular subject of instruction. An ordinary Koran teacher was appointed who taught the Koran to the youngest and most backward boys. He did attempt some religious instruction and conduct prayers but its value was doubtful. Koran teachers have the colonial period i: schools 253

therefore not proved a success at Dole not only for the above reasons but also because there is no village there and we have had to rely on a man walking up from Bububu (ZNA AB 1/390). Williams went ahead to explain that on account of these conditions, Qur ān teaching at Dole had been rather deficient and proposed consequently to appoint a regular Qur ān teacher on a higher salary in order to improve the standard of religious teaching (ZNA AB 1/390). Due to the apparent failure of the government schools, the British tried to explore avenues for the solution of the educational problems in Zanzibar from the early 1930s. One of these avenues was propagated by two well known colonial officers, Georgina Rose and George Benjamin Johnson (see chapter 7), who, in 1934, had been to the United States of America to study the organization, aims and methods of ‘rural schools for negroes’, the so-called Jeanes system.6 The Jeanes system in fact came to be seen, in the 1930s, as a viable solution for Zanzibar’s problems in education and consequently surfaced again and again in colonial reports: ‘Jeanes teachers foster practical activities, help rural teachers to introduce simple home industries into schools, give talks on sanitation, cleanliness, promote improvement of school buildings, do/teach needlework, cookery, hygiene’ (ZNA BA 6/6). In 1939, a Jeanes training centre for public employees in public health, for teachers and local administrators, mudirs and shehas, was to be opened in Dole, the seat of the Rural Middle School. Essentially, the Jeanes system was designed to increase government control over education in rural areas and to implement rural development policies by creating an ‘educated rural elite’ in the Jeanes centres as had been done in the United States of America, where the Jeanes Fund and other ‘Northern’ U.S. American philanthropist funds such as the Phelps-Stokes-Fund (est. 1910), the John F. Slater Fund or the John F. Carnegie Foundation invested into ‘Negro Rural School development’, ‘convinced that what Afro-Americans needed

6 The Jeanes idea had originally been conceived by Ms. Anna T. Jeanes, a Phila- delphia Quaker who had donated, in 1907, one million dollars for education of ‘col- oured peoples and rural negro schools’ in the United States. From 1909, a ‘Jeanes Teacher Program’ was funded by the ‘Jeanes Fund’. The epigone of the movement of Jeanes centres was Ms. Virginia Randolph, an Afro-American teacher working in a small school in Virginia, who had not only met and inspired Ms. Anna T. Jeanes in the early 20th century, but also met the Johnsons in 1934 when they visited the U.S.A. (Furley/Watson 1978: 132, Turki 1987: 339; Anderson 1988: 133). 254 chapter five most was to learn the discipline of manual labour and the boundaries of their natural environment’ (Anderson 1988: 247). In 1925, a first Jeanes school had been set up in Kabete near Nairobi, Kenya as a direct reaction to the visit of the Phelps-Stokes Commission in East Africa (see chapter 6) and other Jeanes schools followed suit in other parts of Africa. In 1935, delegates from Zanzibar visited the Jeanes conference in Salisbury, Southern Rhodesia and proposed the adoption of the Jeanes idea in Zanzibar. Their idea was at first supported by the Protectorate government. However, real discussions on a Jeanes centre started only in 1937 (ZNA AB 1/284). An article in al-Falaq of 20 November 1937 thus argued that not everything that had proved successful in the neighbouring territories would necessarily prove successful in Zanzibar. The Acting DoE, Johnson, replied in a dispatch of 24 November 1937 by saying that Jeanes centres would be the foundation for all African rural education and that men and women would not be educated together as was insinuated in the al-Falaq letter. The idea of establishing a Jeanes centre in Zanzibar was eventually scrutinized by F.B. Wilson (B242), an agricultural officer and the principal designate of the future centre, who had come to Zanzibar in 1935. After a visit to the Jeanes Centre in Zomba, Nyasaland, in February 1938, he strongly advised against the establishment of a Jeanes centre in Zanzibar. The major problem for a Jeanes program was the ‘Christian’ origin and outlook of the idea and work. He subsequently asked that the idea of starting a Jeanes centre in Zanzibar should be reconsidered. On 1 February 1938, the Social Welfare Co-ordination Committee had also raised ‘considerable doubt as to whether a similar (i.e. Jeanes) scheme would be entirely successful in Zanzibar’, and demanded an investigation into the conditions of rural education (ZNA AB 1/284). In a letter of 25 March 1938, Wilson criticized the lack of a ‘policy of rural education’ and added that he thought that the establishment of a Jeanes centre in Zanzibar was ‘unlikely to materialize’ (ZNA AB 86/189). The doubts about the Jeanes project and the enquiry into the pos- sibilities of a Jeanes centre led the British administration to acknowledge the failure of the existing system of education and eventually convinced colonial officers to integrate the Qur ānic schools into the government school system (ZNA AB 1/283). In a letter of 19 April 1938 from the British Resident, J. Hawthorn Hall to W. Ormsby Gore, the Secretary of State for the Colonies (ZNA AB 1/284), the the colonial period i: schools 255

Resident asked for an investigation and a report, and proposed that F.B. Wilson should carry out this enquiry which was to be kept confidential, ‘never to be circulated’ (Furley/Watson 1978: 419). His letter and the subsequent ‘Wilson report’ are remarkable documents as they show how an important change in colonial policy was justified and presented with relevant arguments in the files. Hall opened his letter by acknowledging receipt of a dispatch from the Secretary of State for the Colonies informing him that the Trustees of the Carnegie Corporation had agreed to contribute 7,000 US Dollars annually for the establishment and support of a Jeanes Training Centre in Zanzibar for the period from 1938 to 1948 (ZNA AB 1/284). Referring to Wilson’s initial report on his visit to the Jeanes Centre in Zomba, he continued: Since my arrival in the Protectorate, I have given much thought to the question of rural education and in particular to the question of the advisability of introducing the Jeanes principles and methods of education in substitution for the present system of rural education which has demonstrably failed. The figures of attendance at rural schools in Zanzibar and Pemba during the last five years...and the number of well-equipped and solidly built schools which have been closed for lack of pupils and lie empty today, provide striking evidence of the failure of a system upon which much money and effort were expended by the Zan- zibar government. My predecessor was hopeful that the introduction of the Jeanes system would revitalize rural education and turn what had been an expensive failure into a success. His hope, which was based upon the success achieved by the Jeanes methods of education in certain mainland territories, may have been well-founded; but as a result of much enquiry....I was left in considerable doubt as to the practica- bility of successfully applying the Jeanes system in Zanzibar and Pemba...The doubt was reinforced by the report submitted by Mr. F.B. Wilson, the Principal designate of the proposed Jeanes Training Cen- tre...and would particularly invite your attention to the statement...that ‘so many of the factors responsible for the success of the Jeanes mainland enterprises are either non-existent or doubtful in Zanzibar, that one cannot view the present Jeanes scheme as other than a gamble’. It will be seen that he suggests that a close study of the rural population of the protectorate and their needs should be carried out (ZNA AB 1/284). As a result of these considerations, both F.B. Wilson and W.H. Percival, the Vice-Principal designate of the Jeanes centre were detached from their respective departments to carry out the above mentioned enquiry and to report to the government on the basis of 256 chapter five the following terms of reference (The British Resident, Hall, ZNA AB 1/284): 1. to examine and report upon the present failure and difficulties in the system of education in the Zanzibar protectorate, 2. to make a study of the social and economical structure of village communities for future educational policy for rural schools. I do not wish to anticipate those results, but there are certain factors which have clearly contributed to the failure of the present system of rural education...Of these I am inclined to place first importance the hostile influence exercised by the teachers of the Koran schools, who in order to retain pupils and avoid losing their fees spread constant propaganda against the Government schools, alleging that they are irreligious in character and that the children receive no proper instruction in the Koran. According to Hall, these allegations had no basis in fact, ‘as the religious instruction in the government schools actually trained the children to read the Koran in the Arabic script instead of, as in the Koran school, learning long passages by heart with little or no understanding’ and thus should be considered ‘to be more thorough than that given by the Koran teachers’. Yet, he accepted that the method of religious instruction in the government schools was open to three objections, namely: it was regarded as unsatisfactory by most parents who ‘judge their children’s’ knowledge largely by their capacity to recite a number of suras from the Koran’; secondly, Koran education figured too prominently in the present curriculum, at the ‘expense of secular education’; and finally, it required the pupils to learn Arabic, which is ‘to them a foreign language. It is as if English children between the age of six and ten years were taught to read the New Testament in Greek’ (ZNA AB 1/284: 7). Hall subsequently proposed a solution of this dilemma based on the suggestions made by Muammad Abeid al-ājj: A possible solution of this difficulty might beto employ in each government rural school as a salaried teacher one of the best and most widely respected of the Koran teachers of the neighbourhood and to leave him to give religious instruction in accordance with his own methods which are acceptable to the parents. This might in effect kill two birds with one stone, since it would mitigate the hostility of the Koran teacher and lessen the prejudice of parents against government schools, while at the same time relieving the pupils of the necessity for learning to read and write Arabic, which is useless to them in after years (ZNA AB 1/284: 7). the colonial period i: schools 257

Hall also elaborated on some other problems of rural education, such as under-nourishment, and the fact that the present curriculum might be given to ‘academic’ and too little to ‘practical instruction’, ‘the lack of parents discipline, the ingrained habits of indolence and apathy, an inherent suspicion of secular education, the lack of any tribal organization among the natives and their highly individualistic outlook’ (ZNA AB 1/284: 8), and finally referred again to Wilson’s initial (1938) report on the Jeanes centre scheme in order to explain the decision of the Zanzibar government ‘to defer the construction of the Jeanes Training Centre’ to the Trustees of the Carnegie Corporation (ZNA AB 1/284: 10). Wilson’s subsequent (1939) inquiry and the respective report on ‘Adult Literacy Amongst the Rural Population of the Zanzibar Protectorate’ (ZNA AB 6/8), started by stating that Zanzibar was far from being ‘a primitive country’. It had been in contact with the ‘civilized world’ of ancient times, the Persian and Arab cultures in particular, whence many emigrants came: Zanzibar is therefore essentially different from many other African countries. One difference lies in the matter of literacy. Many people in Zanzibar, especially amongst the indigenous tribes...read and write the Arabic script. It is, I believe, true to state that, up to the present, no great use of this important fact has been made...Two principal types of literacy are met with in the rural areas of Zanzibar. First and most important is that of the Arabic script. A large proportion of the people as a result of Koran school instruction read the Koran in Arabic, and is able to write their own language, Swahili, in the Arabic script. Indeed there exist many manuscripts, particularly those dealing with religion, wit- chcraft and native medicine which are written in Swahili in Arabic script...Secondly there is Swahili written in the Roman script. This was, I believe, originally introduced by the Christian Missions to East Africa and later accepted and used by Government in its educational programme. Its origins perhaps explain the suspicion with which this type of teaching is regarded by many Muhammedans. So far as Zanzibar is concerned, literacy in the Roman script is almost entirely the result of Government education… In order to throw light on the situation concerning literacy in the Arabic script in rural areas a survey of selected villages in Zanzibar and Pemba including tests was consequently undertaken. A particularly fertile source for the report was found in the District Marriage Registers as these documented not only the act of marriage but also provided proof for five signatures, namely that of the husband, the wife, the wife’s guardian, and two witnesses...Apart from marriage documents, documents of acts of sale of land were taken 258 chapter five

into account, thus providing the survey an overall number of almost 33,000 signatures (ZNA AB 6/8). In general, the villages on Unguja proved to have a far higher rate of literacy than Pemban villages, although literacy in Arabic on both islands was far higher in all villages than literacy in the Roman script. The results of the house-to-house survey of literacy in 24 selected villages, ten on Unguja and fourteen on Pemba, were (ZNA AB 6/8):

village no. of % literate in % literate in % literate in % (selection) interviews Arabic script Arabic and Latin script illiterate only Latin scripts only Kizimkazi 259 44 15 1 40 Ndijani 221 53 11 2 34 Paje 181 57 0 0 43 Kichangani 130 56 0 0 44 Bumbwini 139 68 12 2 18 Dimani 207 50 10 0 40 Mbaleni 123 58 13 0 29 average 55 7 1 37 Unguja Michewani 129 7 0 0 93 Kinazini 71 59 0 0 41 Pujini 57 44 0 2 54 average 32 2 2 64 Pemba

Wilson’s report continued: ‘If these statistics can be taken as truly representative of the whole Protectorate, then it would be true to say that over 60% of the adult male population of Zanzibar and over 35 per cent in Pemba are literate. Of these the great majority are literate in the Arab script only’. Wilson concluded the inquiry stating that it proved the ‘very widespread use of Arabic in the Zanzibar Pro- tectorate’ (ZNA AB 6/8).7 Wilson’s report was eventually transmitted to the Social Welfare Co-ordination Committee and the committee recommended ‘that the Jeanes scheme should not be proceeded with’ (ZMA AB 1/284). This was a clear sign that a process of rethinking

7 The high degree of literacy and mastery of Arabic in Zanzibar was also shown ten years later in the ‘Bateson Report’ (see below 5.5. and Appendix IV a). the colonial period i: schools 259 educational policies had started within the British administration in the 1930s that eventually led to a dramatic change in British educational policies in 1939/1940 (see chapter 6). Still, the potential of development of literacy in this respect was seen of limited value by the Protectorate administration in the official reaction to the Wilson (1939) report: ‘The illiterate peasant in any country can often sign his name and do nothing more. There is however much potential literacy in the country in that acquaintance with Arabic script obtained at the Koran school enables the more intelligent to write his own language more or less intelligibly without being taught’ (ZNA AB 1/390). The debate on the Wilson report, however, led G.B. Johnson, the Acting DoE, who had originally supported the Jeanes scheme, to now formulate proposals, on 28 August 1939, for a new education policy. According to G.B. Johnson, the new policy was likely to provide: 1. For more time for Koran teaching, and the reading and writing of Arabic; 2. The teaching of the Arabic language and later of Basic English and the reduction of the time in Swahili 3. The reorientation of curriculum so far as this is possible. When I have had time to formulate detailed proposals they will be made to embrace the Koran school system as well as Government schools and will be deliberately designed to gain goodwill and support at the expense of ‘sound education’ as the purist educationist would have it. It is a matter of no little urgency to keep one’s eye on the political and religious aspect of life here, and this alone justifies one’s action in overloading a primary education with foreign languages (ZNA AB 1/390). At the same time, the political context changed: In early 1938, the old DoE, Hendry, had retired and the nomination of a new DoE increased the chances for the reorientation of education policies. The 1939 report remarked that five primary schools had to be closed again in rural areas: ‘The work of the Department seemed somehow to have alienated the sympathy of the country people and to be receiving little support in consequence. Investigations into the causes of this state of affairs resulted in planning for a re-orientation of policy. The first purpose of this is to win the confidence of the people and to proceed along the lines acceptable to them’. The 1939 annual report (PRO CO 688/16) confirmed that a decision had been made to ‘introduce into the staff of some, at least, of the government rural schools, a Koran teacher from the locality, acceptable to the people, 260 chapter five and to follow the custom of the people in devoting the best part of the first two years of school life to the business of becoming hitimu, that is to say, learning the Arabic characters and reading the Koran in the manner which Muslims themselves regard as the best way to do’. The report added that Roman characters were to be introduced in the third year and that all teaching was to be done on the basis of Swahili throughout this and the fourth and subsequent years. The new DoE, R.S. Foster, who took office in late December 1939, eventually agreed with the findings of the Wilson report and the Jeanes idea was abandoned without further inquiry. This development was confirmed in a letter of the Secretary of State for the Colonies to the British Resident in Zanzibar in 1942, as well as in a further exchange of letters between the Protectorate Administration and the Secretary of State for the Colonies, such as a letter by the DoE of 24 February 1942 to the Chief Secretary and another by Resident H.G. Pilling to the Secretary of State of 20 April 1942. These letters confirmed Resident Hall’s decision to postpone ‘indefinitely’ the idea of establishing a Jeanes centre (ZNA AB 1/284). A major argument which was brought up repeatedly in colonial files as a reason why government schools did not make real progress until the late 1930s, was that government schools threatened the position of the Qur ānic school teachers, in particular their sources of income but also their role as paramount personalities in their communities (Turki 1987: 82). This problem could be solved only by offering thewalimu alternative sources of income by employing them in government schools. Another reason for the failure of the government school system in Zanzibar in the period up to the late 1930s was that the British colonial administration had tried to establish government schools while disregarding the network of Qur ānic schools that continued to coexist and compete with government schools and constituted an educational alternative (Bang 2003: 186). British deliberations on the future of the educational system and the position of the ‘Koran’ schools in particular, were finally reversed in WWII when the British realized that they did not have the resources to continue as before. The war in fact forced the Protectorate administration to implement the 1939 proposals quickly. This course of things was reflected in the 1949 report on education: The start of the Second World War brought the inevitable shortage of European staff, but it is gratifying to be able to record that educational development did not cease. In 1940, the scope of rural primary schools the colonial period i: schools 261

was extended by the inclusion on the staff of village Kuran school teachers chosen by the people. It is probable that this step removed a major source of friction between the schools and the villagers. The Kuran teachers brought their students with them and a Kuran class was formed in each rural school. From these classes to the primary course, standards I to VI...The immediate result of the introduction of Kuran teaching in Government primary schools was an increase in the demand for such schools (ZNA BA 5/19). World War II, and the problems the war created with respect to personnel, thus forced the British to change their attitude and to come to terms with local educational realities. Accordingly, the 1939 decisions were adopted in 1940. As a consequence of these reforms, ‘children were able to complete their religious education earlier than before in the koranic schools owing to the necessity for attending regularly and to the fact that the teacher himself has to be present all the time...The second tendency is for the Koran teacher to change his own methods of teaching for the better through association with trained government schoolmasters’ (PRO CO 688/20, annual reports 1940-1945). As an immediate consequence of the British U-turn in education policies, Qur ānic schools as well as their students were registered in the colonial files from 1939, although the criteria for registration changed and consistent registration took place in the late 1940s and the 1950s only. In 1939, a first census of 880 ‘non-inspected institutions’, mostly Qur ānic schools, was undertaken and Qur ānic schools were mentioned in a colonial report for the first time. This year could thus be seen as a turning point or a moment of ‘stocktaking’ in the development of the government school system, as Qur ānic schools were now to figure prominently in plans and statistics. In 1940, the first Qur ānic schools teachers were integrated into the government school system and took their Qur ānic school classes with them into the government schools. The 1940 annual report confirmed the first census of Qur ānic schools: A census of village Koran schools, teachers and students was undertaken in cooperation with the Administration. This is the second year that this has been done, and it reveals what was not shown in these reports prior to 1939, that a very much larger number of children receive some education than the attendance figures at Government schools suggested. In 1940 there were 876 Koran schools in the Protectorate, at which 6,231 boys and girls were receiving instruction. These schools are comparable to the thousands of ‘bush’ schools on the mainland and 262 chapter five

are no more imperfect than the latter. It is generally agreed that all these schools serve an important though humble part in forming habits and moulding character and cannot be regarded as outside the educational system (ZNA BA 5/14 and PRO CO 688/20). In 1942, the number of Qur ānic schools was said to be 918, attended by 5,206 boys and 1,564 girls: ‘Two government assisted Koran schools, at Bububu in Zanzibar and Pandani in Pemba have shown to some extent that it is possible for Government to improve the conditions under which these schools are conducted without interfering unduly with traditional and jealously-guarded methods of teaching. In government primary schools the Koran teaching is in many cases in the hands of specially selected village Koran teachers’ (ZNA BA 5/15 and PRO CO 688/20). The 1943 report, under the new chapter-heading ‘Koran Schools’, repeated: ‘Contact was maintained and fresh contacts made where possible with these little unaided schools. During the year more Koran teachers were employed by Government and some of these teachers brought over to the Government Primary Schools some of their Koran students and thus formed larger classes’ (ZNA BA 5/15 and PRO CO 688/20). The 1943 report also mentioned that 28 of the better qualified Qur ān teachers were now employed in Government Rural Schools (PRO CO 688/20). Colonial reports indeed were increasingly aware of Qur ānic schools which were added to colonial statistics. In addition, the British noted that ‘statistically’ 93% of the Arab and African children eligible for school were not in government but in Qur ānic schools. As soon as the integration of Qur ān teachers into the government school system started, the British colonial administration also started to develop administrative procedures for the registration of a Qur ānic school and the administrative treatment of Qur ān teachers. These issues continued to bother the DeptoE until the end of colonial rule. Initially, Qur ānic schools were required to have a minimum number of 30 students for registration as government Qur ānic classes, although these rules and requirements were enforced rather errati- cally. Still, these administrative regulations vastly reduced the statistical number of Qur ānic schools in 1946 and, again, in 1959. Thus, the number of officially registered Qur ānic schools (qs) was subject to some fluctuations over time. For the period between 1939 and 1960, the colonial files (ZNA BA 5/14, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 29, and PRO CO 688/20) nevertheless provide some data, as shown in the colonial period i: schools 263 the following chart (from 1949 the number of boys and girls attending Qur ānic schools was differentiated between Unguja/Pemba):

year total no. qs in qs in boys/girls in boys/girls total of qs Unguja Pemba Unguja total 1939 880 - - - - 7000 1940 876 - - - - 6231 1941 918 - - - - 6770 1942 c. 900 - - 5206 1564 6770 1943 c. 900 - - - - - 1944 c. 900 - - - - - 1945 c. 900 - - - - - 1946 624 - - - - - 1947 624 - - - - - 1948 624 - - - - - 1949 624 329 295 2065/1147 1978/368 5558 1950 624 342 281 1953/1173 2161/343 5630 1951 872 456 416 3937/2560 3110/1135 10742 1952 959 443 516 3722/2749 4947/1262 12680 1953 795 370 425 3087/2392 4367/1171 11017 1954 991 486 505 4808/2681 4672/1728 13889 1955 918 - - - - 15700 1956 916 - - - - 13780 1957 942 - - - - 17342 1958 1100 - - - - 19200 1959 684 - - - - 16000 1960 906 - - - - 16714 1961 c. 900 - - - - 16000 1962 c. 900 - - - - - 1963 865 - - - - -

As soon as Qur ān teachers were integrated into the government school system, new issues cropped up, however, which were essentially related to the question of recognition of the Qur ān teachers as employees of the Protectorate administration with respective rights. The increasing formalization and standardization of the (government) Qur ānic school system in Zanzibar was thus reflected in the development of bureaucratic procedures for the employment of Qur ānic school teachers as early as 1940 (ZNA AB 1/390), when appointment as government Qur ān teacher was officially recognized 264 chapter five in writing.8 As soon as Qur ānic school teachers were integrated into government schools, they asked to be treated in the same way as ‘government school teachers’. In 1950, a petition was directed to the Dep- toE, signed by 22 Qur ān teachers. These teachers had been working in Government service for some time and asked the Government to consider granting a gratuity to them: ‘On the termination of our service as Government employees, we humbly request the Government to consider the grant of a gratuity to us. We the Koran teachers serving under the education department within the protection of His Majes- ty’s Government beg most respectfully a fair treatment as other Gov- ernment employees enjoy’ (ZNA AB 1/447). The DoE, in a letter to the Chief Secretary of 17 October 1950 (ZNA AB 1/447) represented the position of the Qur ān teachers as follows: Koran teachers are temporary employees and according to the agreement which they are made to sign...they are not entitled to any privileges whatsoever. In their petition they are asking for: 1. Their present salary scale (80 × 4–100) to be raised. 2. Free passage on Government steamers during school holidays. 3. Payment of gratuity on retirement or termination of appointment. The DoE, Hill (B210), proceeded to argue that the Qur ān school teachers’ salary had been doubled only recently (December 1948), and he would thus not recommend any further increase. He supported, however, the idea that Qur ān teachers who had served not less than ten years should be entitled to a gratuity. In a further letter to the DeptoE, the DoE as well as the Chief Secretary of the Zanzibar Protectorate Government, dated 5 February 1951 and signed by āmid Ibrāhīm and āmid Abūbakar (ZNA AB 1/447), the Qur ānic school teachers repeated and extended their petition of the previous year. In particular, they maintained, ‘that the terms of service of Koran teachers are most ungenerous in that a Koran teacher after 10 years of continuous service draws a salary of Shs. 100/– per mensem,

8 The official letter of appointment read: ‘To Sheikh....: Subject to your acceptance, you are hereby appointed as a Kuran teacher at....School with effect from.....at a monthly salary of Shs. 40/– rising by annual increments of Shs. 2/– each per month up to a maximum of Shs. 50/– per month, provided always that the payment of each annual increment will be dependent on your discharging satisfactorily the duties entrusted to you. Your whole time, during school hours, will be at the disposal of your Head Teacher. The appointment offered carries with it no privileges whatsoever, and can be terminated at a moment’s notice. Please confirm in writing your acceptance or otherwise of the terms of this letter’ (signed: Director of Education). the colonial period i: schools 265 which is considered the maximum bar, whereas an ordinary casual worker without any knowledge draws Shs. 60/– on first appointment’. They continued to ask for the extension of the usual gratuities for government employees on retirement and as their petition obviously remained unanswered they sent a third letter, signed by sixteen Qur ānic school teachers, to the Chief Secretary as well as the DoE on 14 January 1953, repeating their demands (ZNA AB 1/447): We beg to state, Sir, that at the time the Government decided to amalgamate our village Koran classes with the Government Schools in our respective Districts sometime in the year 1941, our salaries were fixed at Shs. 40/– per month and for 5 years we have been granted yearly increments of Shs 2/– raising our monthly remuneration to Shs. 50/– and we are now each receiving Shs. 125/– per month inclusive of Cost of Living Allowance and this, we understand, is a bar point to our salaries for an indefinite period as we are taken on temporary basis. We need hardly to point out to you, Sir, the importance and the responsibility attached to our work as Koran Teachers and more as now when each of us is expected to supply annually at least 30 boys and girls of school age which, no doubt, you will agree with us, Sir, to be not an easy matter in rural areas and it is because of our respect and influence that we command over the parents in our respective villages that it has been possible for us to obtain the demanded quota. Under the circumstances, Sir, and because we put up the same number of hours as other teachers on permanent establishment, we pray His Highness’ Government to consider our case sympathetically by placing us on permanent establishment and extending to us all other facilities and rights as those enjoyed by our fellow teachers. We may further point out, Sir, that even the labour class of the Government employees are classified as permanent staff on putting up 10 years continuous service (ZNA AB 1/447). This petition was rejected in a minute of 3 February 1953, by the Chief Secretary, Alford, saying that ‘His Highness’s Government are not prepared to alter the terms of service of Koran Teachers’, but was then taken up by the DoE, Blaxland (B192), in a confidential letter to the Chief Secretary of 24 March 1954 (ZNA AB 1/447) which stressed the importance of the ‘Koran’ teachers: I have the honour to request you to reconsider the subject of the status of Koran teachers in Government service. I regret that this is a matter which has been submitted to you many times previously. At present the Koran Teachers are employed on salaries in the scale 80/– –4/– 100/– per mensem, without any gratuity or travelling privileges whatsoever. In fact these men who provide the platform on which the whole 266 chapter five

educational structure of Zanzibar is based, are accorded a status lower than the lowest office boy and many Public Works Department labourers. In the past various reasons have been given for not raising the status of these teachers. Firstly it has been considered that they cannot be accorded any privileges of Government Service because they are frequently men of poor education who are selected by the local communities. Though these men seldom have a good standard of secular education, they usually have much more than the office boy, and they are far superior to him in religious knowledge and ability to read and write Arabic. Indeed no Koran teacher is appointed unless he is approved by the Supervisory Teacher in charge of religious instruction after having been tested in religious subjects. The teachers are selected by the local populations and therein lays their virtue—religious instructors per se are essential to every proper school, but in Zanzibar they are in the unique position of being the pillar on which rests the confidence of the parents in Government schools. It is the Koranic teacher who attracts the children to school, as proved by the rapid increase in primary school education after Koranic classes were attached to the Schools. The DoE continued to argue that it would be appropriate to grant the Qur ān teachers their demands and to pay them in accordance with scales V and VI and to extend to them the privileges of a gratuity and free travel on government ships once a year. In 1954, this change of policy would affect a total of sixty Qur ān teachers. In his answer (ZNA AB 1/447), the Chief Secretary replied that ‘it would appear that these teachers deserve better terms than those they are getting at present if they can show some ascertainable standard of education such as knowledge of Arabic and religion and I should be grateful for your assurance that they are required in fact to have such ascertainable standards’. In an answer to this letter, DoE Blaxland sent a further letter to the Chief Secretary on 16 June 1954 with a presentation of the ‘standards required for appointment as Koran teachers and tested by examination’ (ZNA AB 1/447). This letter again reflected the move towards increasing administrative control as well as the process of standardization of Islamic education in Zanzibar. The standards required for appointment as Qur ān teacher ‘as tested by examination’ were: 1. Ability to read the Koran correctly. 2. Ability to write Arabic from dictation. 3. Ability to write Swahili in Arabic characters from dictation. 4. Proficiency in religious subjects, a written and oral test is given. 5. Ability to teach Arabic for the first three years of the Arabic course for primary schools. the colonial period i: schools 267

Blaxland’s initiative was rejected in a note of 29 July 1954, Admin- istrative Secretary to the Protectorate Government (ZNA AB 1/447): ‘Kuran teachers are temporary employed. The appointment carries with it no privileges whatsoever and can be terminated at a moment’s notice. The matter of service conditions of Kuran teachers has been previously discussed, but Government was not prepared to alter them. I am inclined to recommend that at least passage conditions by Government steamers may be given to Koran teachers’. This statement was not accepted, though, by the new DoE, Hann (B207), in a letter to the Chief Secretary of 12 October 1954 (ZNA AB 1/447). In this letter Hann started a new initiative to grant Qur ān teachers better conditions of service. The possibility of transferring Qur ān teachers between schools was considered, but it was ‘generally felt that the full value of Koran teachers can only be used in their home villages where they are men of influence and standing who are able to influence local opinion in support of schools in addition to doing their own daily teaching’. After some discussion on the financial details of the scheme, the proposal was accepted by the Chief Secretary and published by the Protectorate Government in circular 4/1955 (ZNA AB 1/447). Copies were sent to the Qur ān teachers on 23 February 1955: With reference to Education Department Circular No. 20/54, the following are the revised terms of service for Koran Teachers: a. Qualifications: 1. Ability to teach tajwid, the Koran and Barzanji 2. Knowledge of Arabic writing and spelling For Senior Koran teachers: 3. Ability to teach Arabic up to and including Std. VI. b. Salary: Koran teacher 90(99) × 6–120(132) Senior Koran Teacher 132(145) × 4 155(172) Pounds Sterling. c. Post to be non-pensionable but a gratuity may be paid in accordance with Regulation 26. d. Leave to consist of the school holidays only. Free return passages by government steamer for the teacher and his family to Pemba or the mainland may be granted once in each calendar year. e. Appointments to be temporary, one months’s notice of termination being required, not liable to compulsory transfer. f. New terms to be effective from 1st January, 1954. By 1954/55, the position of the Qur ān teachers had become much better. Yet, Qur ān teachers continued to complain about unequal treatment with respect to gratuities in the late 1950s. In a petition of 268 chapter five

12 November 1956, they demanded that gratuities be paid to all Qur ān teachers, not only those employed since 1 January 1954. This idea, as well as a second petition of 11 November 1957, was again rejected by the administration (ZNA AH 43/3). Even before that, the Qur ān teachers had started a comparable initiative on 2 September 1956 (again to be rejected), as a reaction to a change of regulations on 1 June 1955, when gratuities were paid only to those teachers who had been employed since 1 January 1954 according to the regulations of the Pension Decree (letter Blaxland, 1.6.1955, ZNA AD 20/64). The British thus continued to refuse full integration of the Qur ān teachers into the colonial employment system (letter of 25 October 1958, DoE) and their teaching of non-Qur ānic matters, which would have made them ‘full teachers’, was regarded to be only ‘temporary’, and ‘a matter of expedience’. Also, they were viewed as untrained and of lower educational standard than Std. VIII, even if their salary scale (E 6 with promotion to E 5) overlapped that of a teacher from Std. VIII with two years training (minute 28.10.1958). Another letter of 16 June 1959, mentioned that in the future, Qur ān teachers should be recruited among Muslim Academy students and trained at the Teacher Training College and that the task of the Muslim Academy was to train government Qur ān teachers. For that reason there should be no change of status. The question of the status of the Qur ān teachers was again discussed in 1961 in the context of a debate on gratuities, but their integration into full government service was rejected (minute 21.12.1961, ZNA AD 20/35). Qur ān teachers were thus consistently treated as ‘temporary staff’, and, as such, not entitled to gratuities. The British continued to reject such demands until the end of their rule. As a consequence, the revolutionary government was confronted, from January 1964, with similar questions (see chapter 9). After twenty years experience of integration of Qur ānic schools into the government schools system, the 1960 report of the DeptoE reflected on this decisive change in the set-up of education in Zanzibar (ZNA BA 5/34): A significant change occurred in boys’ primary education in 1940, when the scope of rural schools was extended by the inclusion on their staffs of Kuran teachers chosen by the people. It is probable that this step removed a major source of friction between the schools and villagers. The Kuran teachers brought their students with them and a Kuran class was established as the foundation of each rural school. The the colonial period i: schools 269

result of this arrangement was an immediate increase in the demand for government primary schools, and the numbers of boys’ schools rose from 14 in 1939 to 23 in 1942. It then became necessary to re-introduce the training of primary teachers and a centre was opened in 1943 under a Women’s Education Officer seconded from Malaya. The centre was attached to the Rural Middle School at Dole, and was run as a boarding establishment. The number of boys’ schools rose steadily to 30 in 1945, 42 in 1955 and 50 in 1960. The Rural Middle School and the Teacher Training College continued at Dole until 1950, when they were transferred to a new site at Beit el-Ras, and renamed the Sayyid Khalifa School after the reigning Sultan. There the Middle School continued until 1956, after which it was run down, class by class, being replaced by classes of the Boys’ Secondary Technical School. This process was completed in 1959.

5.5. Government Schools: The Wonders of Colonial Numerology

While both missions and the Indian communities had started opening schools in the 19th century, government efforts to establish modern schools kicked off in the early 20th century only. In the beginning, British educational policies were not really well developed, although the first DoE, Rivers-Smith, and Residents like Pearce tried to formulate strategies with respect to the treatment of the Qur ānic schools. Yet, their ideas were not implemented for several reasons (see chapter 6) and were often rejected by influential local brokers such as the Arab Association. At the same time, the Qur ānic schools were seen as a sector of education outside the sphere of government influence and education reports were full of depreciating statements with respect to the Qur ānic schools, which were viewed as useless for any kind of education, and which should best be left to die out. As mission schools were to play only a marginal role in Zanzibar, government schools as well as Indian schools acquired a para mount role in the development of Zanzibar’s education system. The first ‘government’ school was not established by the British Protecto - rate administration, though, but by Sultan Alī b. amūd in 1905. Only in 1908 were first serious efforts undertaken by the British to establish government schools and the newly established ‘Department of Education’ (DeptoE) under its first director, Rivers- Smith, started a program of modern education to train clerical staff for the Protectorate administration. This program was handi- capped, however, from the very beginning by the introduction of the 270 chapter five

Latin script for Kiswahili. Government schools were consequently seen by many Zanzibaris as an attempt at proselytization ‘in disguise’, and the acceptance of government schools consequently remained marginal for a considerable period of time. Only in the 1920s could initial difficulties be gradually resolved, even if disputes over the curriculum continued to block the development of government schools. And only in the early 1940s, when the British integrated Qur ānic schools and their teachers into the government system of education and granted religious scholars a major say in the development of the syllabus, did opposition to government schools finally stop. From the mid-1940s, the number of government schools increased dra- matically, and so did the number of students. On the eve of independence, Zanzibar could point to one of the best educated populations in Africa. These developments were recorded in the annual reports in a specific pattern that has remained consistent over the decades, despite considerable gaps in the statistics. Only rarely did new elements enter annual reports. Thus, the 1949 report summarized, as every year, that: The educational system of the Protectorate is administered by a Direc- tor of Education who is advised by the Educational Advisory Commit- tee composed of nominated members of all races. He is assisted at Headquarters by a Senior women’s education officer who looks after the interests of girls’ education, an Indian women’s education officer whose duties are specifically the inspection of Indian grant-in-aided girls’ schools and an Inspector of Schools which post remained vacant during the year under review. Zanzibar differs from the other East Afri- can territories in that education is mainly in the hands of Government. The education of Indians and of Christians is undertaken by grant- aided schools of which there are 9 Indian and 4 mission schools. But the Arabs and Africans, who are all Muslims and who comprise 94.09 per cent of the population receive their education in Government schools, where, because of Islamic influences, co-education is not favoured. It does exist, however, to a small extent, in the bottom classes of some primary schools (ZNA BA 5/19). In the late 1950s, after a long process of development, the Protectorate administration could be described as being in charge of all schools except for a few private schools. Theoretically, the government schools were open to all ‘races’, yet education was not compulsory and a segregated school system had developed in practice. The government was assisted in its educational policies by the Education Advisory Committees in Unguja and Pemba. These Committees the colonial period i: schools 271

consisted of representatives of all ethnic groups, communities and bodies interested in education. The DoE was chairman of both and reported to the British Resident. The DoE was responsible for the execution of policies and was assisted by two senior officers, the Assistant DoE (ADoE), who acted as the Director’s Deputy when required and who was also responsible for boys’ education and men’s teacher training, and the Superintendent of Education for women and girls. The day-to-day supervision of district or rural primary schools in Unguja and Pemba was carried out by Assistant Education Officers (ZNA BA 5/34). The following paragraphs give a rough chronological overview of the development of government schools in Zanzibar,9 while British educational policies are analyzed in detail in chapter 6. The hard data on school development are reproduced in the appendix IV b. A first initiative to open a government school that was to cater for the educational needs of the relatives of the Sultan and leading Arabs was started in 1903 by Sultan Alī b. amūd, who had been at Harrow, an English public school, between 1898 and 1901. In 1903, Sultan Alī b. amūd ‘applied to the Egyptian Government for three teachers to form the nucleus of a staff capable of initiating a scheme of vernacular education’, and to provide a basis for the training of teachers (ZNA BA 1/224; Rivers-Smith in Crofton 1953: 22). On 27 September 1904, the opening of a school ‘for children between the age of seven and ten’ was publically announced by the Sultan (fa-yakun malūman bi-anna madrasatan li-talīm al-awlād satafata a qarīban fī-Zinjibār; see Bang 2008: 355), but only in 1905 did the first teacher arrive from Egypt. He was Abd al-Bāri b. Abd al-Bāri al- Ajīzī (B6, see his picture on p. 142), who was appointed ‘Senior Arabic Teacher’ and started, in 1905, a first class of 17 boys at the new school in the ‘Mskiti Hadith’, close to the ‘Nyumba ya Moto’ in Forodhani, in one of the Palace buildings, although the site was later moved to the Government Printing Press building (ZNA BA 5/34). Later, Abd al-Ramān b. Muammad al-Kindī from Oman (for Arabic) and Shaykh Mukhtalif from Java (for English) joined the school as teachers (Turki 1987: 269; al-Farsy 1955: 26).

9 The sources for this section (5.5) are again the files in the ZNA, in particular the annual reports (ZNA BA5ff and PRO CO 688), as well as accounts by Crofton (1953), Sha bān al-Farsy (1955), Furley/Watson (1978), Hendry (1928), Turki (1987) and Ziddy (2001). 272 chapter five

In 1905, the British Protectorate administration voted 45,000 rupees for the opening of a ‘Department of Education’ (Furley/ Watson 1978: 37) and to meet the cost of establishing elementary or primary classes ‘in three or four districts’. The provision included the school mentioned above which was known as the ‘Government School’. In 1906, a budget for three teachers was approved. As a consequence, the ‘Sultan’s school’ became the Town Boys’ Arab Primary School. In 1908 it was shifted again to a new building on the bank of the Creek in Darajani and renamed ‘Government Central School’ (GCS) or ‘Town Primary School’ (Turki 1987: 269ff; Furley/ Watson 1978: 37). In 1906, R.N. Lyne (B220) was appointed second English teacher at the Town Primary School. In 1907, B. Cave, the British Consul General, started to support the establishment of a proper education department ‘to provide training for clerical and other work’, in order to replace the ‘Indians and other foreigners’ who held a virtual monopoly of clerical jobs in the Protectorate (Turki 1987: 270). Cave had been to Egypt before 1907 and had gained some experience in the Egyptian educational system and thus proposed to set up the Zanzibar educational system along Egyptian lines. At the same time, Abd al-Bāri al- Ajīzī, ‘feeling that he had not sufficient influence and authority’ (Hendry 1928: 344; Turki 1987: 271), asked the Sultan to see that a European be appointed to organize a system of education. In 1907, on the application of the Foreign Office, a British government officer, J. Rivers-Smith, was thus seconded from the Egyptian Education Service for an initial period of three years as both headmaster of the School and DoE. This first DoE, Rivers-Smith, found, according to his successor as DoE, Hendry, not a virgin soil, but a tangled undergrowth of prejudice to clear before he could sow his seed: Parents insisted on sending their boys to school only when they had become ‘hitimu’, and they insisted upon teaching in either Swahili or Arabic: ‘What earthly use, they asked, was a slave language like Swahili?’ Despite these obstacles, Rivers-Smith started his struggle to introduce modern education, taught Koran school teachers how to write Roman characters and gradually introduced Swahili as the medium of instruction, opened district schools and abandoned them again due to lack of the local influence necessary to overcome the suspicion of the parents (Hendry 1928: 344). Despite working ‘single handed until 1920, sowing the seed in unre- ceptive soil’ (1935 report on education, PRO CO 688/12), Rivers- the colonial period i: schools 273

Smith remained in office as DoE until 1920. Also, Shaykh Abd al-Bāri stayed and became responsible for a teachers’ training program, whereas the headmaster of the SESM, G.K. Tata, was appointed headmaster of the GCS in 1910, to replace Rivers-Smith in this function (Crofton 1953: 22). On 7 January 1908, Rivers-Smith sent a first preliminary report on education to the Attorney General’s Department. He stated that the existing school was divided into two parts: a primary school and a kuttāb in the same building. He also proposed the opening of further government (elementary) schools in Zanzibar, Mangapwani, Makunduchi, Dunga, Mwera, Mahonda, Chwaka, as well as Chake Chake, Wete, Mkoani, Jambangoni and Matangatwani. In addition, Rivers-Smith advocated the gradual introduction of English (ZNA AC 18/1). At that period of time, the syllabus of the GCS provided teaching in reading, writing, arithmetic and Qur ān in the elementary classes, and Arabic, English, arithmetic, geography and Qur ān in the primary classes. School attendance rose to 335 students in all nine schools in 1910 (Turki 1987: 273). Many parents were suspicious, however, as the new schools only taught the first juz of the Qur ān (IC72, 4.3.2001). The decision to introduce both the Latin script and Swahili instead of Arabic as the medium of instruction in the same period (1907-09, see chapter 6), led to a decline of student numbers in 1910 from 41 to 24 students at the GCS, although the numbers had still been rising in 1909, the first year after the introduction of the Latin script (Furley/Watson 1978: 39). In addition, the introduction of fees, even if these only amounted to a sum between eight annas and one rupee per month, deterred many parents from sending their children to school. By 1910 the number of district elementary schools had risen to 8, yet total attendance had gone down from 335 to 194 students (Furley/ Watson 1978: 40). Only at the GCS did attendance numbers rise again after 1910, due to the fact that a number of Indian families started to send their children to this school. From 1910 to 1911, the number of Indian students at the GCS indeed rose from 26 to 67, while the total number of students rose from 141 to 187 (Furley/ Watson 1978: 41). The 1911 annual report on education tried to explain the ‘boycott of the government schools’ with the ‘natives’ natural indolence’, yet conceded that it was not the ‘native [who] does not want education’. Parents in fact were continuing to send their children to the Qur ānic schools and paying the Qur ānic school 274 chapter five teachers. The Qur ānic schools, however, ‘do no good as the teachers spend much of their time in attending to other matters and make use of their pupils as hewers of wood and drawers of water. There is no discipline, except from time to time the discipline of brutality’ (PRO CO 688/1). In 1912, the first village and district primary schools were started in various districts. There were no trained teachers, however, and hardly any with education beyond that of the Qur ānic school. Due to ‘inadequate inspection’, the development of village and district government schools soon came to a standstill (ZNA BA 5/34; al- Farsy 1955/80: 26). By 1913, only six schools were still operating, namely the GCS (371 students), as well as the Mwembeladu (45), Mangapwani (32), Bububu (39), Chake Chake (78) and Wete (67) schools, with a total of 632 students (Furley/Watson 1978: 43). In 1916, the total number of schools in Zanzibar had again grown to 12, yet this statistical number included the grant-in-aided mission schools and one Indian private school, the SESM. In 1917, the number of government schools had dropped to eight (six in Unguja, two in Pemba), the biggest school being the GCS. Apart from the GCS which had an elementary and a primary school section, there was the Industrial School in Zanzibar Town, as well as the district schools in Mwembeladu, Mangapwani and Bumbwini, Bububu, Chake Chake and Wete (ZNA AB 1/224). In 1913, the administrational development of government school education was about to enter a second stage. Not only was a first proper report on education published, the Colonial Office also took over and was about to inaugurate a new system of teacher training. Due to WWI, however, further development of educational policies had to slow down. Only in 1916 did the DoE, Rivers-Smith, conduct a first tour of inspection of existing institutions of education, government, mission and Indian schools, and presented a report (Report of the Education Commission, 2.12.1916). This report became the basis for British education policies in the early 1920s (see also chapter 6.2.). In his report (ZNA AB 1/224), Rivers-Smith proposed the con- vocation of a Committee on Public Education. Members of the first commission of education in 1916 were the DoE, Rivers-Smith (as chairman), the Anglican and Catholic bishops, a representative of the FIM, two representatives each of the Arab and Indian communities, as well as three persons named by the Resident. Effectively, only the colonial period i: schools 275

Rivers-Smith, Arch-Deacon Godfrey Dale, Reverend Spanton, R.H. Crofton and Y.E. Jivanji, the President of the Indian National Association, took part in the work of the commission (Crofton 1953: 35). The committee’s task was to register all existing schools in a period of six months. Should a school fail to be registered, it was to be declared ‘unlawful’. The schools were asked to answer the following questions on a specific form: 1. name and address of school 2. type of building (material) 3. system of sanitation 4. number and dimension of class rooms 5. number of boys and girls 6. standards and classes (number) 7. subjects taught 8. average attendance 9. nationalities and religions admitted 10. names of male teachers, qualifications 11. names of female teachers, qualifications 12. timetable of instruction 13. approximate dates/periods of holidays 14. school fees 15. other sources of revenue 16. rent of school premises 17. debts, charges on school.

New schools were to be opened only after official registration, upon consent of the DoE. Also, teachers, in any sphere of ‘secular’ education, were to be registered. In addition, all schools were to be supervised. At the same time, the schools would become eligible for grants-in-aid, provided they taught a syllabus recognized by the Committee of Education and provided they conformed to the conditions named above (ZNA AB 1/224). Due to the war, lack of public support and funds, these plans had to be postponed, however, as was mentioned in a later annual report: ‘By 1918 as far as rural schools were concerned the educational debacle was almost complete and a fresh start was necessary...The first five years of the post war period were a period of educational stagnation’ (PRO CO 688/12). In 1918, a first education act was published and elementary school fees were abolished and in 1920, an Advisory Council on Education was formed, ‘and most of the details of policy advocated in their report (of 1916, RL) have gradually, with but few changes, been brought into effect at the present day’ (Hendry 1928: 345). The decisions of the 1916 276 chapter five report of the education commission were indeed confirmed in 1920, and in 1921 the report was accepted by the British Government, represented by the Secretary of State for the Colonies (see chapter 6.2.). From 1921, the new DoE, Hendry (B209), started to implement the recommendations of the 1916 report (Crofton 1953: 44). The GCS emerged from the war with a roll of about 250 boys, mostly Indian students. Its course was now one of eight years, and its syllabus included English (ZNA BA 5/34). In 1920, a new European Headmaster, G.B. Johnson, was appointed for the GCS, to be replaced, in 1922, by Lawrence W. Hollingsworth (see chapter 7). At the same time, the DoE, Rivers-Smith, was replaced by a new DoE, William Hendry, who was to be in office until early 1938. By 1920, the number of primary schools, not only government schools, but also grant-in- aided and privately funded schools, had increased to 27. The need for trained teachers led to the opening of a Teachers’ Training School in 1923, L.W. Hollingsworth being the first principal. This day training school was attached to the GCS, both accommodated in new buildings in Vuga (ZNA BA 5/34; see the map of schools on p. xxiv). In 1921, the British introduced the ‘compulsory education act’ which stated that all of the Sultan’s subjects had to attend school (McMahon 2005b: 221). The act empowered the British Resident to ‘cause students between the ages of 5 and 19 to be enrolled in Government schools for stated periods’. Although the act targeted ‘only’ the Arab population which lived within a two-mile radius of a government school, it meant that students could be forced to attend school. Yet, between 1921 and 1924, the decree was not enforced. Also punishments for truancy were not specified. In 1924, its implementation was reconsidered, a development connected with the rapid increase in the number of district schools, and a notice of information was published, ‘explaining to parents the necessity and the benefit of sending their boys to schools at the appropriate school age and pointing out that efficient Kuran instruction was given in Government schools’. Closer supervision of school attendance numbers revealed ‘an alarming increase of truancy, and shows that the decree has two defects: it is cumbrous and slow in procedure and it provides no method of dealing with recalcitrant parents’ (ZNA BA 5/3). A major problem for the establishment of government school education was that many parents could not afford to pay the school the colonial period i: schools 277 fees and other costs. Many parents thus continued to refuse to send their children to a government school (Ziddy 2001: 26).10 In 1923, a Commercial School was opened in Darajani. This school was started to cater for the needs of the Indian population. The headmasters of this school were Captain T.W. Hodgkins and Sulān Khamīs al-Mughayrī (B133). The school started with 20 boys. In the beginning, the school had to come to terms with a number of problems regarding the syllabus as well as questions of orientation and policies of admission. These were solved when the ‘Arab’ teacher, Sulān Khamīs al-Mughayrī, took over as sole headmaster in 1925. The first African entered the school in 1929. In 1934, the school was closed again, however, due to shortage of funds (Turki 1987: 331). In 1923, the GCS had 174 Arab, 98 Swahili, 55 Comorian, 62 Indian, 3 Somali, 11 Baluchi, 10 Persian and 3 Malay students (ZNA BA 5/3). In 1924, three district schools that had been closed in 1912 were reopened and a Supervising Officer, G.B. Johnson, who until 1922 had been headmaster of the GCS, was appointed to this position. In addition, an Industrial School was opened. Its first headmaster was A.A. Ducket. The year 1924 also saw the visit of the ‘Phelps- Stokes Commission’ which had been created to think about new educational policies that could prevent friction and help to ‘fit the Africans to meet the actual needs of life’ (Turki 1987 291ff.). The commission defined the Zanzibar situation, as an ‘agglomeration of races’ and the report concluded that ‘if the educational situation can be met in Zanzibar, it can be met anywhere’. Ignoring the Islamic school system completely, the commission realized that the mission schools did not have the success in Zanzibar they had in other African colonies, and came to the conclusion that ‘either the methods have been wrong or the efforts have not been adequate’ (Turki 1987: 292). As a reaction to the Phelps-Stokes report, the Zanzibar government, led by a new Resident, Sir Claude Hollis, stressed that the development

10 Technically, it was possible to obtain a reduction of the school fees (of 200 sh. annually). For this purpose, it was necessary to write a petition applying for exemp- tion from fees on grounds of, for instance, lack of financial means to pay fees, and to send this petition to the sheha of the respective village who then passed it on to the mudīr of the district (Ziddy 2001: 26). The mudīr was entitled to reduce or cancel the school fees. Many parents actually took advantage of this opportunity, and only 10% of the parents (mostly Indians) paid the full fees, while 29% were able to get a partial reduction. Most of the parents were able to get a reduction and most of these parents were either Arabs or Africans (Ziddy 2001: 26). 278 chapter five of rural schools should become the chief aim of Protectorate education policies (Turki 1987: 293). Consequently, a number of new schools were opened in the following years. In 1925, the new building of the GCS was opened and the GCS moved from its Darajani building to its new site in Vuga. In 1927, a first (Arab) girls’ primary school was opened and the number of district schools rose to twelve. The first headmaster of the girls’ primary school was Georgina Rose Johnson. In April 1927, L.W. Hollingsworth, who also acted as ADoE from 1928, started The Normal Magazine that soon became, as Mazungumzo ya Walimu, a major publication platform for Zanzibari teachers (ZNA BA 5/4). In 1928, the number of teachers trained by the TTS had risen to sixteen. In the same year (1928), eighteen government schools existed, namely:

Teacher Training School Zanzibar Town 3 classes 35 students Commercial School Zanzibar Town 1 class 18 students Central School Zanzibar Town 12 classes 359 students Industrial School Zanzibar Town 4 classes 58 students Arab Girls’ School Zanzibar Town 4 classes 77 students Ngambo Elementary School Zanzibar Town 4 classes 59 students Mkokotoni Elementary School Mkokotoni 2 classes 31 students Mangapwani Elementary School Mangapwani 3 classes 75 students Mwera Elementary School Mwera 3 classes 65 students Ndijani Elementary School Ndijani 3 classes 81 students Makunduchi Elementary School Makunduchi 4 classes 102 students Kizimkazi Elementary School Kizimkazi 4 classes 95 students Muyuni Elementary School Muyuni 2 classes 57 students Chake Chake Elementary School Chake Cake 3 classes 76 students Wete Elementary School Wete 3 classes 62 students Matangatwani Elementary School Matangatwani 1 class 19 students Kengeja Elementary School Kengeja 2 classes 55 students Mkoani Elementary School Mkoani 1 class 30 students

In 1929, a supervising officer was appointed for Pemba, but was withdrawn again in 1934. In 1929, the annual report started to distinguish between elementary (primary) and ‘middle’ (primary) education, as well as urban and non-urban/rural education in district schools. Two middle schools existed in 1929: St. Paul’s, the grant-in-aided UMCA mission school, and the upper section of the GCS. In 1930, the annual the colonial period i: schools 279 report mentioned that the first students from Zanzibar had gone to Makerere (see below), while the 1931 report registered a sharp rise in attendance numbers for the GCS as well as the Indian schools. In 1932, another commission of inquiry came to Zanzibar, at the request of the Secretary of State for the Colonies. This commission was led by Sir Alan Pim, a financial expert, and was specifically directed to inquire into the problems of finance. The Pim report, published in May 1932, came to the conclusion that so far, educational efforts had more or less been concentrated on Zanzibar town while rural areas had received comparatively little support (Turki 1987: 304). Since at this time the Empire was suffering from the effects of the world economic crisis, additional expenditures in education had to be postponed again, however, and the Pim report’s recommendations to introduce the Jeanes scheme was rejected due to high costs (Turki 1987: 306). In 1932/33, the Advisory Council on Education which had not met for five years (since 1927, Furley/ Watson 1978: 129), was set up again. It included eight members, appointed by the British Resident (Turki 1987: 307). In December 1933, the council submitted a new report on education and made a number of suggestions such as to increase the number of rural schools, to employ female teachers in rural schools, to start a rural middle school, to close the TTS and establish a rural teacher training school, to develop urban secondary school education, to transfer the headmaster of the TTS to this new secondary school, and to extend girls’ education in general. The executive council agreed with these proposals and wanted to know whether the council would support the teaching of English in rural schools (Turki 1987: 309). Most of the 1933 recommendations were implemented in the following years: the TTS was closed in 1935 and new rural schools were opened, in particular, the ‘Rural Middle School’ (RMS) in Dole (about 15 kilometres northeast of Zanzibar). At the same time, girls’ education was extended in 1933 by adding a teacher training class to the girls’ primary school. In 1933, L.W. Hollingsworth was transferred to the new Secondary School that was opened in Vuga (in the GCS building) in 1935. The first students were 17 Indian, 4 Arab, 3 Comorian and 2 ‘Swahili’ boys. Also, a local Education Advisory Committee was formed in every rural school, the members being chosen by the head teachers and staff in consultation with the respective mudīr (Turki 1987: 311). In 1934, the supervising officer for Pemba was appointed 280 chapter five headmaster of the ‘Dole’ RMS. By contrast, the Commercial School was closed in 1934. At the same time, resistance against the government schools continued, and the British again identified ‘venal walimu’ as the source of opposition. In 1937, the Government introduced full secondary school courses that would prepare students for the Cambridge (Overseas) School Certificate (CSC). This decision implied that only candidates with a CSC would, in the future, qualify for graded government service (Turki 1987: 313). In late 1937, the Government school sector consisted of two central boys’ schools (elementary upper middle), two urban elementary boys’ schools, two urban elementary girls’ schools, 17 rural elementary boys’ schools (two closed in 1937), one urban elementary girls’ school (elementary lower middle), one rural boarding school, one secondary school, one adult evening school, as well as one tailoring class at the GCS. The 1939 report mentioned that a simplification of the school nomenclature would be introduced in 1940: primary school was to be forms I-VI, while secondary school was to be forms VII to XII. At the same time, five rural schools had to be closed down again. Indeed, the opening and closure of government schools was a regular feature of the British colonial administration in Zanzibar. In a letter to the Secretary of State for the Colonies, the British Resident attached a list of all schools established by the British since 1906 and the years of their closure, up to 1938 (ZNA AB 1/284). In 1939, twelve additional district schools had to be closed down again due to lack of support. Only after WWII did school development become more consistent:

name of school opened closed reopened

a. schools in Unguja Mangapwani 1906 1921 1925 Mahonda 1906 1913 - Mwera 1908 1910 1924 Mazizini 1908 1910 - Kizimkazi 1908 1912 1924 Mnyimbi 1908 1912 - Makunduchi 1908 1912 1924 Muyuni 1908 1912 1927 Bububu 1912 1914 - the colonial period i: schools 281

name of school opened closed reopened

Bumbwini 1914 1921 - Mkokotoni 1921 1929 - Mdijani 1925 - - Mkwajuni 1929 - - Donge 1930 - - Chwaka 1935 - - Mombeni 1935 - - Uzini 1936 - -

b. schools in Pemba Wete 1907 1934 - Chake 1908 - - Mkoani 1908 1910 1928 Matangatwani 1925 1937 - Kengeja 1926 1937 - Jongangome 1930 1936 - Ziwani 1930 1935 - Ngwachani 1934 1937 - Kangani 1934 - - Uwendwe 1934 - - Kiwani 1935 - -

The 1939 census of the student population registered in government schools showed that out of a population of 112,893 male and 107,011 female ‘Africans’, only 1740 boys and 409 girls were enrolled (1.54% and 0.38% respectively), while out of a population of 9,955 male and 5,291 female ‘Indians’, 1,093 boys and 767 girls were enrolled (10.98% and 14.50% respectively). Yet, when focusing on children of school age and school attendance in all types of school, including Qur ānic schools, numbers and percentages were quite different:

Group enrolled % African boys: 22.578 6969 30.86 African girls: 21.402 1720 8.03 Indian boys: 1.991 1457 73.18 Indian girls: 1.058 1083 100.00 282 chapter five

WWII not only led to the integration of the Qur ānic schools into the government school system (see above), it also had a number of other far-reaching effects. In 1940, the European staff was for instance reduced to two teachers, while four schools were opened or reopened. Also, a training school for midwives was established and the first rural girls’ primary school was opened in Makunduchi. In the same year, the first Women’s Teacher Training College (WTTC, later Sayyida Nunuu College) was opened. The WTTC provided for a four- year curriculum and started after form VIII. The 1940, 1941 and 1942 reports turned out to be rather short, however, due to the war. In 1943, the situation improved and seven additional primary schools as well as the first secondary school classes for girls were opened. In that year, 28 school masters were employed in government schools. From 1945, the colonial files started to record the development of individual schools, as well as regular school reports which had to be made for each school. These reports continued after the revolution. Few reports have been preserved from this period, however, and few are complete. One of these few cases was Paje primary school, which was consistently covered by administrative reports between 1944 and 1973 (ZNA AD 26/11). The development of Paje primary school showed how important the ‘Qur ān teacher’ had become for the development of a school by the mid-1940s. In its early history, Paje, like many schools, suffered from a shortage of staff which was expressed in a letter by DoE Harvey to the District Commissioner dated 21 January 1945: With reference to your DCZ, I must apologize for my delay in replying but I am having the greatest difficulty in finding staff. I can pay for Koran teachers at a salary of 40 /– for both Uroa and Paje: They should be chosen locally, if possible, of a reasonable standard of secular education so that they may be trained later if they prove satisfactory, but I should like their religious ability tested by a Kadhi before they are actually taken on. Fairly young men are preferable (ZNA AD 26/11). In fact, the Qur ān teacher chosen, Mgambe Kidabe Shirazi, was tested, as were all school Qur ān teachers, by the Shāfi ī Chief Qā ī, Umar b. Sumay, as being fit for teaching. The Chief Qā ī also confirmed (in Arabic) that ‘Muammad Vusi, Koran teacher at the Paje School, had been tested and found capable of teaching the Koran’. As a consequence, the DoE appointed him as a teacher with effect from 1 October 1945 (DoE, 26.9.1945). The school in Paje was the colonial period i: schools 283

eventually completed in 1945 in form of a banda construction and the school was officially opened on 4 October 1945, teaching Qur ān, reading, arithmetic, Swahili and Arabic writing. āmid b. āfi' was appointed as the first principal. He was a Dole trained teacher who replaced Muhammad Vusi as Qur ān teacher, the latter being sent to Makunduchi for further training. The first report on Paje School was written in 1946 by the Acting Head Teacher of Makunduchi Government school, and stated that 34 (out of 36) boys were present: An appreciable piece of work has been done. Practically all the boys present could read the combination of words with their vowel sounds. They have reached up to the tenth sura or chapter in juzuu ama, which is a marked progress considering the short time Shaykh amid afidh has been here. About five boys were able to read any pointed chapter from the juzuu ama with fluency. They were recommended for ‘masa- hafu’. 12 other boys could read any pointed verse from the juzuu ama. The rest are a bit slow and continue with reading from the black board. Till this date the boys have been receiving their teaching from the black board. The teacher in charge was advised to use juzuu ama for the advanced boys who could read by themselves and a progress book, such as that kept for Swahili reading be kept. More time should be devoted to this most important subject to enable the teacher to minimize the number of Koran lessons in the higher classes ((ZNA AD 26/11). In 1947, Makame Alī Machamo became Qur ān teacher. At the same time, the expansion of the school continued, a roof, a toilet, cement walls, a store, a second classroom and an office were built, while construction work was accompanied by quarrels over land for the school, in particular, the school garden. In addition, a girls’ school was started. From 1964, the school was also used for adult classes. School reports continued after the revolution, but only from 1972 were they again formalized and organized according to disciplines. The 1946 report registered approval of a ten-year program for educational development (1946-55) with an annual expenditure of ₤500,000 in order to increase primary school education. School attendance was scheduled to rise from 15 to 40% and secondary school education was to be developed further. In 1946, the first student from Zanzibar got a grant for the Bakht al-Rū a College in the Sudan. In 1947, a first government secondary school for girls was opened as a female branch of the GSS. This school came to be called Sayyida Matuka School. The first headmistress was Mrs. Schofield. The 1950 report mentioned that, according to the census 284 chapter five of 1948, the number of children was 69,498 out of a population of 274,835. However, while 59.4% of Indian children went to school, enrolment of African and Arab children was only 10.4%. Muslims, comprising 94.09% of the population, received their education exclusively in government schools (ZNA BA 5/19). 1952 was another important year for the development of modern education in Zanzibar as the first modern Islamic educational institution was opened, the Muslim Academy (see chapter 8). In 1952, only few unassisted schools remained. The important Indian and all mission schools had entered the grant-in-aid scheme. In 1952, male teacher training courses were extended to cover a period of three years. In January 1953, the first Arabic-language government primary school was opened in the building of the Muslim Academy, but moved to a new site in Darajani in 1956. Arabic was the language of instruction, but apart from that, the government syllabus was taught. The headmaster of this class (and later school) was Amad Zahrān (B182; al-Nah a, 27.11.1952). In the same year, the Jambiani and Bweleo Qur ānic schools were taken over by the government, and became primary schools; in addition, the ‘Dole’ RMS was reassessed and was now regarded as a technical primary school, while St. Joseph’s continued to be counted as a branch of the GSS. In 1954, ‘Dole’ officially became a technical primary school which was merged, in 1958, with the Teacher Training Colleges, Sayyid Khalifa (men) and Sayyida Nunuu (women), all at ‘Beit el- Ras’, on the coast between Zanzibar Town and Bububu. In 1955, the number of girls’ primary schools rose to nine. In 1958, a new technical secondary school was opened, while the RMS was phased out. The 1958-60 triennial report recorded that by 1960 36.8% of all boys and 23.6% of all girls of primary school age were in school. In 1961, compulsory schooling from standard I to standard VIII finally started, and a Ministry of Education replaced the DeptoE. Alī Musin al-Barwānī was appointed first minister of education (ZNA BA 5/32).11 From the early colonial period, Zanzibar’s schools employed teachers from Egypt. Not only was Zanzibar’s first expatriate teacher, Abd al-Bāri b. Abd al-Bāri al- Ajīzī, an Egyptian, but also the first

11 The 1963 report recorded that students were sent for the first time to Pakistan (2) and Saudi Arabia (2). Also a grant had been approved for studies in Iraq (ZNA BA 5/32). For the development of Zanzibar’s government schools, see also the appendix, 11.4.a and 11.4.b. the colonial period i: schools 285

Principal of the Muslim Academy, Muammad Muammad al-Dahhān (see chapter 8). From 1958, Egyptian influence became even more marked as the ZNP started to organize overseas scholarships to countries such as Egypt, China, and East Germany (Burgess 2002a: 13), after an initial idea to establish a second—ZNP-affiliated—secondary school in Zanzibar with Egyptian funding was rejected by the protectorate administration (Burgess 2002a: 18). ‘To further advance the ZNP’s patronage powers and to promote the education of party youth’, Alī Musin al-Barwānī was able, however, in the context of a visit to Egypt and Ghana, to obtain scholarships for students from Zanzibar from the Egyptian President Jamāl Abd al-Nāir (Burgess 2002a: 21). The first group of students from Zanzibar consisted of 40 students who were sent mostly to al-Azhar (25 wadogo wa vyuo vya chini na 15 wavyuo vya juu, technical college, Mwongozi, 13.6.1958; al-Barwani 1996: 109). Among these students were, amongst others, Harith b. Khelef b. Khamis al-Ghaythi, who was to become, in 2001, the first post-revolutionary Muftī of Zanzibar, and Dr. Muammad Manūr, director of the Swahili program of Radio Cairo. According to Schacht, Zanzibar got more scholarships for studies abroad, in the Near East, Britain or elsewhere, than any other East African country in relation to its actual population. The students who had been sent to Cairo started to come back by 1963 (Schacht 1965: 116).12 In 1961, a background study for UNESCO by Mrs. Bowen, the Superintendent for Women’s Education, on ‘Women in Public Life (1947-62)’ and the ‘Factors Aiding or Hindering Girls’ Education in Zanzibar’ (10.3.1961) provided an overview of the development of female education in Zanzibar. According to Bowen, the most important fact about Zanzibar was that it was ‘a Muslim state’ and therefore

12 The Egyptian President Jamāl Abd al-Nāir also gave the ‘ZNP-students’ from Zanzibar a hostel. From 1958 to 1964, around 800 students came to Cairo for some sort of higher education. Journeys to overseas places for studies abroad thus became ‘a new form of pilgrimage’ (Burgess 2002a: 13). The intensification of political debates in the zama za siasa and increasing political awareness also triggered disciplinary problems among students in 1960, although only one case was recorded in the colonial files, namely a case of ‘lack of discipline’ in Pemba at the Ngambwa school in 1960, when Yahya Muhdan, the leader of the Pemba Pupils Union, was expelled from school on 27 August 1960 for ‘organized absenteeism’. The PPU had organized a first students’ strike in Pemba that lasted from 19-21 July 1960, after the students (486 in number) had been refused permission for a demonstration on 17 July 1960 against the lack of educational facilities in Pemba (ZNA AD 14/28). 286 chapter five

‘people expected a certain amount of prejudice against girls’ education and the emancipation of women’. That there had been prejudice in the past ‘no one would deny but the exciting fact about Zanzibar is that girls’ education has made remarkably rapid progress especially in recent years. Presently, there are still two boys against one girl in school’ (ZNA AD 31/24): Clearly the opportunities are there for any girls with the desire and ability to make use of them but at present it is the Indians and to a lesser extent the Arabs who have gone the farthest. Presently, there are 8 girls and 36 boys reading for Higher School Certificate and Univer- sity Entrance exams, seven women are reading for a degree at Makerere and outside East Africa there are at least another ten women reading degree courses. In total there were at least 53 women studying abroad in 1961 (30 training as nurses, four as doctors in the UK) (ZNA AD 31/24: 3). The Bowen report provides a unique history of female education in Zanzibar. According to her, women had been brought up, until recently, in ‘purdah’ and even today (1961) this practice continued. Most girls married between the ages of 13 and 14. Women’s education was started by the families of the rich Arabs who sent their daughters for higher education to Egypt, and several of these women got employment as teachers in Zanzibar: this helped to break down parents’ resistance to sending their daughters to the first government school for girls in the 1920s. The first government-employed nurses were Bibi Saada Nassor Lamki and Bibi Saada Maawia in 1925. Fatma bint Saada Nassor Lamki became the first female doctor in Zanzibar. The Shariff family, which had seven female teachers in the family, was the first to abandon purdah. From the late 1920s, together with the women trained in Egypt, these women formed a new female elite of state-employed Zanzibaris. The first rural school for girls was opened in the mid-1930s, but had to be closed down again. In 1940, the Makunduchi Girls’ school was opened, however, and made slow headway. In the 1950s, four other girls’ schools were started, although there was still none in Pemba, and although only few girls manage to complete the school certificate (ZNA AD 31/24). The history of educational development in Zanzibar from the mid- 1860s to 1963 shows an impressive development not only of the number of schools but also of student numbers. This development included the education of girls. As a result, at independence Zanzibar possibly had one of the best education systems in Africa. This chapter the colonial period i: schools 287 has also shown, however, that the development of education in Zanzibar was characterized by fierce competition between different types of schools and their respective ‘philosophies’: the mission schools, the Indian schools, the government schools and the Qur ānic schools. The mission schools, which offered a Christian educational programme, soon lost out in a social context in which Christianity represented a foreign and colonial episteme. The missions were never able to translate their educational programmes into Zanzibar’s quotidian realities. The Indian schools, in contrast, were extremely successful and continued to exist until the end of the colonial period because they offered a highly specialized programme for a specific segment of Zanzibar’s population. As soon as the government schools had set up, in the 1920s, an educational programme based on contemporary concepts of ‘marketable skills’, which were viewed as highly relevant by a majority of the Indian groups in Zanzibar, the Indian schools started to melt into the government schools, retaining their independence only with respect to religious classes tailored to meet the specific needs of the different religious groups. The government schools’ programme of ‘marketable skills’ as defined by the British colonial administration was at the same time rejected by a majority of (non-Indian) parents in Zanzibar who preferred to send their children to the established Qur ānic schools which taught ‘social skills’. In addition, the government schools were seen by a majority of the religious scholars as a direct threat to their paramount social and religious position in society. Efforts to win support for the government schools failed as long the British colonial administration failed to recognize the social importance of the Qur ānic schools. As soon as the British stopped fighting Qur ānic school education and started to develop strategies of integration, in terms of the syllabus, employment of Qur ānic teachers as well as the integration of Qur ānic schools into the government school system, resistance against the government schools stopped and religious scholars accepted a new hybrid system of education that combined social and marketable skills in one institution. This development had serious repercussions, however, on the development and nature of the syllabus, as will be shown in the next chapter. 288 chapter five the colonial period ii: syllabuses and languages 289

CHAPTER SIX

THE POLITICS OF EDUCATION IN THE COLONIAL PERIOD II: SYLLABUSES AND LANGUAGES

6.1. The Establishment of Kizungu Education

Although problems of syllabus development will constitute the focus of this chapter, politics of education and the development of education in colonial times were also influenced by a number of related issues such as the introduction of the Latin script, the question as to how to come to terms with the Qur ānic schools, or the question as to how government school education should be organized and structured. British policies did not develop in an organic way in these matters, as has been shown in chapter 5. Colonial policies were rather marked by a number of turning points regarding education policies, as expressed in relevant political and administrative decisions. Thus, it is possible to speak of a first phase in the development of education, from the early 1900s to the early 1920s, when the DeptoE formulated some initial ideas in respect of an education policy (chapter 6.2.); an intermediate phase, from the early 1920s to the late 1930s, when the British administration tried to implement the program of development which had been discussed since 1916, yet had to realize that these plans did not work (chapter 6.3.); and finally a late phase, from the late 1930s to the early 1960s, when the British, in cooperation with religious scholars, established a new system of education which came to be accepted by the population (chapter 6.4.). A major issue throughout this time was the question as to which language should be the language of education at Zanzibar’s schools. A major problem regarding education policies arose early on, when the Protectorate administration decided in 1907, following the arrival of the first DoE, Rivers-Smith, to replace the Arabic script in government schools by the Latin script (Flint 1965: 654). Kiswahili in Arabic script had a long tradition going back to the 18th century at least, and was so widespread that even Christian missions used it in their work in the early 20th century. However, the Latin script had also been used by the mission schools, and texts such as the Bible 290 chapter six were translated into Kiswahili and printed in Latin script. Both mission and government representatives thought that the introduction of the Latin script would limit the influence of Islam. Some members of the British General Consulate, such as Sir John Kirk, also deemed the Latin script to be more suitable for Kiswahili than the Arabic script, which was described as ‘monstrously inconvenient’ (Turki 1987: 280). Despite the fact that missionary influences in Zanzibar were not as tangible as on the mainland, secular education as symbolized by the new script was still regarded, thus, as ‘Christian’ education and rejected by many (IC82, 26.2.2001). The introduction of Kizungu (‘European’, ‘White’) ways and, in a narrower sense, the imposition of Swahili in the Latin script thus torpedoed early efforts to develop government schools (Furley/Watson 1978: 37; Turki 1987: 81): student numbers which had been rising up to 1909, fell sharply in 1910, when the Protectorate administration decided to switch from Arabic and Swahili in Arabic script to Swahili in Latin script as the language of education. In Mombasa, al-Amīn b. Alī al-Mazrū ī even appealed to people to boycott the Latin script (IC82, 23.5.2001). The word ‘Latin’ as such already evoked negative connotations as its sound was similar to the Arabic term for being non-religious, lā dīnī. The introduction of the Latin script can thus be regarded as a radical change in education, centuries of Arabic writing culture being ‘cast aside’ by the colonial administration’s support for Kiswahili in Latin (Kizungu) script (Lacunza Balda 1989: 27) and the establishment of a syllabus in which the Qur ān only figured as one ‘subject’ among many others. The religious scholars, in particular, thought that a school where the Qur ān was taught as only one among many subjects on the basis of Kizungu methods of teaching was a secular school (Furley/Watson 1978: 40/41; Trimingham 1964: 119). The change from Arabic and Kiswahili in Arabic script to Kiswahili in the Latin script as well as the imposition of Kizungu syllabuses in fact meant that an older generation of religious scholars was increasingly cut off from developments in the sphere of education, while subsequent generations of Muslim scholars became increasingly estranged from old traditions of learning. As schools were the most important platform for the reproduction of religious scholars as a social group, and, in addition, were central to the scholars’ claims to hegemonic interpretation in the spheres of religion and social life as well as the mediation of knowledge, control over schools became a central theme of education policies in Zanzibar in the 20th century. the colonial period ii: syllabuses and languages 291

The development of the British government schools meant nothing else but the emergence of a second and competing pillar of education which was initially beyond the control of the religious scholars. They consequently tried hard either to fight the government schools in order to eliminate this threat to their social position or at least to gain maximum influence over the development of the government schools and their syllabuses. The decision to switch to teaching in Swahili in the Latin script became a serious problem for the further development of government schools, and the resulting educational crisis was not resolved until the late 1930s as has been shown in chapter 5. The British colonial administration realized their mistake almost immediately, though. The 1911 annual report thus mentioned that ‘results have abundantly proved that a mistake was made in introducing the European characters before the ground had been carefully broken, by giving instruction in the Arabic characters until such time as the suspicion of the people had been overcome’. Due to the decision to introduce the Latin script ‘a good many of the older pupils left, but new boys have not been forthcoming’ at the end of the year (1908) (PRO CO 688/1). Despite stiff resistance and despite seeing their mistake, the decision to introduce teaching in Swahili in Latin script was not reversed by the British administration. The introduction of teaching in Swahili in Latin script thus has to be seen as a major factor behind the failure of government schools in early colonial times, and annual reports continued to point out the obvious failure of the government schools in Zanzibar. The question of language continued to bother British education policies throughout the colonial period, and was discussed as a paramount issue at all stages of syllabus development, as will be shown below. And even though the British gradually strengthened the position of Arabic in government schools again, they generally regarded Arabic as being a useless ‘subject’. By teaching Arabic as a part of their ‘Islamics’ syllabus, by accepting some religious instruction in government schools and by eventually even integrating Qur ānic teachers into government schools, the British tried to reduce resistance to their educational policies. In more general terms, British educational reforms and language policies affected ‘local control over the cultural reproduction of Islam’ (Purpura 1997: 200) and challenged the role of the established religious scholars as the sole mediators of knowledge. Education thus had integrating and demarcating, mediating and differentiating 292 chapter six aspects, in particular since both government and Qur ānic schools were not only schools but also social nodes through which social integration could be achieved. Through education, local scholars and intellectuals could become part of the colonial elite and the protectorate administration, while ‘resisters’ were excluded (IC82, 26.2.2001). The British recognized this political dimension of their program of education only in the early 1930s, however. As a consequence, education policies were blocked for a long period of time by endless debates as to what should constitute ‘proper colonial education’.

6.2. Rivers-Smith and the Quest for a Position (1905-1921)

For a considerable period of time, British education policies were torn between colonial realities which suggested that Kiswahili, as the majority language, should be the language of instruction, and political considerations which suggested that Arabic, as the language of the ruling elite, should be the language of instruction. The British administration itself seems to have been divided, in fact, into two major camps with respect to the language question: those who, despite the small number of Arabic speakers, supported the notion of a dominant role for Arabic and later successfully advocated the integration of the Qur ānic schools into the colonial government schools system, recognizing the paramount political role of the Arab elite; and those who largely supported, for pragmatic reasons, Kiswahili as the language of the majority of the population and consequently resisted the integration of the Qur ānic schools into the government schools system. This second group was to dominate the early and intermediate stages of education policies in Zanzibar up to the late 1930s, and Swahili consequently came to be seen as the major language of communication. In 1917, Resident Pearce thus mentioned, with respect to the teaching of Swahili (and English), I can see no advantage in teaching English to the bulk of these people. Swahili is their native language, and I consider that it would be better to confine their education to that dialect. At the same time, there will certainly be Swahili boys of an ambitious nature, to whom the teaching of English should not be withheld. I would recommend that in these cases the boys should be transferred from their district or vernacular schools, and educated at the High School either in Zanzibar or Pemba, the colonial period ii: syllabuses and languages 293

at which establishments English would be taught (ZNA AB 1/224, Pearce report). While the British Protectorate administration had been quick to introduce the Latin script, the development of an acceptable syllabus for the government schools and, in particular, the development of a syllabus for Islamic religious instruction was to bother British educational policies until independence. After the collapse of British education policies in 1909 and 1910, the development of a ‘proper syllabus’ and a clear concept for education in government schools restarted only in 1916, when the DoE, Rivers-Smith, conducted an inspection tour of existing government, mission and Indian schools, and presented a report (Report of the Education Commission, 1916, see also chapter 5). This plan became the basis for British education policies in the early 1920s. British discussions on education policies were loaded, however, by rather crude and paternalistic considerations regarding the educational perspectives of Zanzibar’s ‘native races’. In the 1917 report on education, the British Resident, Pearce (B228), detailed measures for the future development of each single ‘class’ (of the population): with respect to ‘Arab education’, he stated that what ‘I should advocate with regard to this class generally, is that education be made compulsory. At present an Arab boy is educated without any definite aim or objective and he drifts through life—often abetted by his old fashioned father—without the slightest ambition to achieve anything’ (ZNA AB 1/224, Pearce 1917: 4-5). Pearce then pointed out that, ‘in drafting a definite scheme of Education for Zanzibar, I have, after very careful consideration of the whole question, and after seeking the advice of those who really have sympathy with and experience of the Zanzibar native, come to the conclusion that it would be a mistake to overeducate any section of the population’. Pearce suggested that the ‘curriculum in district schools shall be limited to an elementary education of the three ‘R’s’, imparted in the Swahili tongue, and with a view to as little disorga- nization of the normal pursuits of the people as possible’. With respect to the further development of ‘Arab education’, Pearce mentioned that an ‘attempt to conduct a boarding school for this class of boys was made in 1914, and proved a complete failure. This failure was due to more causes than one. In the first place Arab parents objected to their sons leaving home; they stated the fees charged were 294 chapter six too high; the Boarding school was in an unsuitable position in the centre of Zanzibar town, there was a lack of European supervision; and the children were left too much to their own devices’. He then proposed the establishment of a new boarding school for Arab boys in the Old Palace at Chukwani, while advocating the British model of private boarding schools in England: ‘What the Arab boy requires, if his race is to be saved from total moral and physical degeneration, is compulsory education and above all strict discipline, and this I consider can only be attained by constant association during term time, with English masters of the highest character. At present an Arab boy does nothing but loaf’ (ZNA AB 1/224). Pearce finally suggested that education should be made compulsory for all boys between five and fifteen years of age; that an Arab Boarding College should be established to educate the sons of the Arabs; that English and Arabic should be taught at the Central School and at the Arab College, and that Swahili should form the medium of instruction at the District Schools; that all private schools should be licensed and registered, and that no new schools should be permitted without license; finally that the Indian community schools should be permitted to continue, provided they accepted the Government Educational Code and that they conformed to Government requirements in all respects. In his report, Pearce also reacted against some of Rivers- Smiths’ 1916 proposals and rejected the institution of an educational board consisting of the Anglican and Catholic bishops, as ‘such an assemblage would instead of facilitating educational progress, prove, I feel certain, a constant embarrassment to Government. The Arabs and other Mohammedans would by the inclusion of Christian prelates and priests at once conceive that Government intended some interference with their religion’ (ZNA AB 1/224). Disputes over the orientation of education policies added to the stalemate of British education policies as summarized in R.H. Crofton’s Zanzibar Affairs 1914-1933 (ZNA AB 1/231; see also chapter 5). By 1920, the British had come to the conclusion that ‘education was at a number of loose ends. It had no central purpose’: The Indian schools were concerned primarily with ‘inculcation of the narrow culture of their sects’ combined in varying degrees with the usual ‘drill’ subjects. The government had provided funds for elementary and primary courses, but had done nothing about agriculture. And apart from support by grant of the Sir Euan Smith Madrasa the colonial period ii: syllabuses and languages 295

(since 1916), the Government had taken no part in ‘outside’ educational activities (Rivers-Smith as quoted in Crofton 1953: 26). After the end of World War I, the time was ripe to overcome this stalemate and to establish a ‘standard of administration; a standard of efficiency for the teaching body; a standard of instruction’ (Crofton 1953: 26). In June 1920, an Advisory Council of Education was appointed and submitted a first report in November 1920 (ZNA AB 1/231).1 The aim of the commission was to ‘formulate an educational policy consistent with the social and economic needs of the Protectorate as they affect the Arab, Indian and Native and to submit practical recommendations’ (ZNA AB 1/231; Crofton 1953: 27). It was soon made clear, however, that education was primarily seen as a way to train Zanzibaris in clerical, commercial and agricultural respects only (ZNA AB 1/231): clerks, tailors and police inspectors were particularly needed. As a consequence, only elementary and primary school education and special courses as well as teacher training were suggested (ZNA AB 1/231): The courses of instruction necessary to prepare the youth of Zanzibar for these various kinds of employment (teaching, clerical, commercial, industrial, agricultural: i.e. clerks, stevedores, mechanics, craftsmen...) are in our opinion: 1. elementary, 2. primary (and) 3. special courses in teaching, commerce, agriculture and industries. The medium of instruction should be Swahili or Gujarati (elementary education), English in Primary education, but there should be classes in English, in Arabic for Arabs and in Gujarati for Indians as well as Swahili for Africans. Teacher Training has to be set up, the establishment of an Arab College is intended. The goal of educational effort for each of the nationalities should be for the Arab agriculture, for the Indian commerce, for the African industries. With respect to religious instruction the report stated that for the majority of the (non-Indian) children, education in the past had meant religious instruction only. Many parents had been content with this form of education. Even if they allowed their children to attend government schools, they were anxious that they should first

1 The council consisted of the DoE, Rivers-Smith, soon replaced by the new DoE, Hendry; Archdeacon Godfrey Dale, Chancellor E.F. Spanton, R.H. Crofton, Yusufali Esmailji Jivanji, the President of the Indian National Association, and, from time to time, Muammad b. Nāir al-Lamkī for the AA. The Council regularly met between 1920 and 1927, but not from 1927 to 1933, although its meetings allegedly prevented ‘the misunderstandings which are so liable to arise in a Protectorate of so mixed a population as Zanzibar’ (PRO CO 688/4). 296 chapter six pass through religious instruction in the Qur ānic schools. These parental motivations were criticized by the report: 1. The children will not enter the Government schools at the age when sound educational methods produce the most valuable results. 2. Several Mohammedan witnesses have deplored the inadequacy of the teaching in many of the Koran schools, even from the religious point of view. The effect of two or three years of inadequate teaching is deplorable. 3. The children too often leave such schools with an entirely false idea as to the meaning and purpose of education because of the method employed—unintelligent repetition. For these reasons we feel that it is of prime importance that the children should not pass through the customary course of religious instruction before their entrance into the Government schools. Religious instruction must be given in the Govern- ment schools. A certain period should be allocated each day to religious instruction. This religious instruction should be given by teachers approved of by the different communities. We do not anticipate any serious objection to such arrangements. There was considerable weight of evidence to the effect that the religious instruction given to Moham- medan boys in the government schools was satisfactory. It was even stated by some witnesses that it was superior to and of greater educational value, than given in the majority of the Koran schools. There seems to be no reason for any change in the present system, and very strong reasons for employing it from an educational point of view wherever and whenever a new Government school is started. With regard to the country Koran schools, in spite of their inadequacy, we do not recommend any interference. Owing to the lack of teachers it is impossible to supply an alternative. When district schools begin to increase it is to be hoped that parents all over the two islands will realize, first the value of the instruction given in these schools by trained teachers and secondly that the religious instruction is better than that given in the past by the village Koran teacher. The children would receive better religious instruction by trained teachers in the Govern- ment schools. And by these improved methods, dissatisfaction with the old methods and a desire for better things will be gradually aroused in the areas outside the sphere of the Government district schools and it will then be soon enough to consider in which way these other areas can be reached (ZNA AB 1/231). The syllabus for Qur ān teaching in the elementary schools was designed to include ‘about three lines of Qur ān in Arabic to be learned per day’ in the first year. The object was to enable students to recite a certain amount of the Qur ān and to understand the ritual: the colonial period ii: syllabuses and languages 297

The result in practice is that the boys become able to read Arabic script and can follow the sound of passages in the Koran without understanding any appreciable amount of what they read. The habit induced by this is carried on to their reading of Arabic primers, and reading without understanding is the rule, just as if an English boy read the French word ‘chat’, without any mind-picture of a cat coming into his mind. The study of Arabic script is unfortunately a necessity for the religious instruction of the African and it is not possible to drop it, but for both Arab and African it is absolutely necessary to alter the method of teaching them the Koran and Arabic. The object in view is a) to secure ability to read Arabic script and familiarity with religious observances and the more common passages from the Koran and at the same time b) to make the subject educationally valuable. In the first year instead of having long hours of nothing but repeating the Koran, make the lessons all mixed lessons of religion, Koran memorization and Ara- bic writing. Swahili is at present and must be the medium even in religious teaching, because not even the young Arabs understand Arabic. The teachers would start off at the beginning by teaching writing of Arabic letters, then simple Arabic words connected with religion e.g. Allah, Mahomed (sic), prophet, etc. He would relate simple stories about the life of Mahomed, thus connecting the written word with ideas. In all the salaaming and the observances the Arabic words would again be clearly connected with ideas. In the second year, where the Arabs will be separated from the Africans, the same idea will be carried out in the reading and object lessons. No Arabic word will be used without a definite idea of what it means being conveyed to the pupil (ZNA AB 1/231). With respect to religious teaching, the advisory council proposed the following schedule and hours of teaching (ZNA AB 1/231):

discipline 1st year 2nd year 3rd year Qur ān 7 5 5 Islam 1 1 1 Arabic 6 6 6 total 14 12 12

This proposal was soon revised and reduced to ten ‘teaching hours’ (teaching periods) per week for Qur ān, Islam and Arabic in the first year and eleven hours in the 2nd and 3rd years. The new DoE, Hen- dry, justified this reduction by arguing: ‘Efficiency in the first year of elementary teaching is very important: it will do away with the intellect deadening effect of the present method’. In the appendix of the report, a document on ‘Koran Teaching in the Elementary Schools’ 298 chapter six added: ‘The study of Arabic script is unfortunately a necessity for the religious instruction of the African and it is not possible to drop it, but for both Arab and African it is absolutely necessary to alter the method of teaching them the Koran and Arabic’ (ZNA AB 1/231). The new syllabus (II) provided the following structure for primary education in two languages of instruction, Arabic (a) and English (e) (ZNA AB 1/231):

discipline 1st year 2nd year 3rd year 4th year

Qur ān 2(a) 1(a) 0 0 Islam 1(a) 1(a) 1(a) 0 Arabic language 5(a) 6(a) 6(a) 6(a) translation 1(a) 1(a) 3(a) 3(a) calligraphy 2(a) 2(a) 1(a) 1(a) (sum of diānāt) (11) (11) (11) (11) arithmetic 5(e) 5(e) 5(e) 5(e) English 6 6 5 6 object lesson 2(e) 2(e) 3(e) 3(e) geography 2(e) 2(e) 3(e) 3(e) mapping 1(e) 1(e) 1(e) 1(e) history 2(e) 2(e) 2(e) 2(e) hygiene 1(e) 1(e) 1(e) 1(e) total 30 30 30 31

Major arguments in the report were rejected, however, in a minority report written by Yusufali Esmailji Jivanji, who stressed (Crofton 1953: 41f, and report): ‘I am sorry, I must say again that the policy sketched out in the majority report is fitted only to produce clerks, typists and printers. The aim of the State should always be, I must say, to produce something higher than mere automatons such as clerks, etc. who will ever be a dependant class’. Jivanji’s minority report called for the introduction of secondary school education and maintained that primary education should not be conducted in English but in the respective mother tongue, Swahili, Gujarati or Arabic. With regard to religious instruction, the minority report maintained: ‘There should not be any control whatever on religious teaching. The same should be left to be taken care of by the different communities themselves but for the student who may attend the the colonial period ii: syllabuses and languages 299 government primary and secondary schools, we suggest that a certain period be reserved for his religious instruction’ (ZNA AB 1/231; see also chapter 5.3.). On 30 March 1921 the new DoE, Hendry, submitted the report, including the minority report, to the Chief Secretary of the Zanzibar Protectorate Government, Sinclair, who would soon become the new Resident (from 1922-1924). The complete report was then sent to both the British High Commission in Nairobi (6 February 1922) and the Secretary of State for the Colonies, Winston Churchill, in Downing Street, London (2 January 1922). The report was accepted by Churchill except for the idea of establishing an ‘Arab College’: ‘this measure should await final consideration until the foundations of the new system have been firmly established on the lines contem- plated’. He also maintained (ZNA AB 1/231): There is no reason why the colonial administration should not consider higher education and in fact think about secondary schools. As regards religious instruction, I assume that the Protectorate Government has given full consideration to the proposals and that they are satisfied that if religious instruction in Government Schools, even with teachers approved by the community concerned, is substituted for instruction in the koranic schools, this innovation will be accepted by the people of Zanzibar and that no serious complications will arise. I have to request that you will give me a definite assurance on this point, and it is only on the assumption that such an assurance can be given that this recommendation is approved! On 16 February 1922, the advisory council responded to the questions raised by the Secretary of State for the Colonies. Regarding religious instruction, the response as formulated by Hendry and approved by the British Resident, Pearce, was (9 March 1922, ZNA AB 1/231): There is, I fear some misapprehension in the Secretary of State’s letter section 5 para 4: The government schools already attract many Muslim parents to send their boys at on an early age, in preference to sending them to a Koran school first. The weight of evidence shows that most Muslim parents think the present government school instruction in Koran and Islam is better than that given in the Koran schools. Some parents, however, still prefer to send their boys to the old fashioned Koran schools. It is only with those that any difficulty might arise and that only when education is made compulsory. Any discussion that might arise would be in reference to the number of hours devoted to Koran and Islam, and this can, I think, be dealt with without offending 300 chapter six

religious susceptibilities. Definite assurance that there will be no serious complication may therefore be given. The Zanzibar High Commission (Sir Edward Northey) sent this response to the Secretary of State on 20 April 1922. Churchill responded on 8 June 1922 and continued to follow up interim reports on the development of education in 1922, 1923 and 1924 that were eventually accepted by the new Secretary of State for the Colonies, J. H. Thomas.

6.3. Hendry and the Quest for a Syllabus (1921-1939)

Although the debates on the work of the 1920/1921 Advisory Council on Education reflected the failure of the Protectorate administration to appreciate colonial realities in Zanzibar, where a majority of parents still refused to send their children to government schools, these debates nevertheless started a new era in education policies. This change was linked to the replacement of DoE Rivers-Smith by DoE William Hendry, who was to dominate British educational policies in the 1920s and 1930s (Crofton 1953: 35). Colonial policies indeed acquired a new dynamic when Hendry began to implement the recommendations of the 1920 report on education. Student numbers in urban areas began to rise again slowly, yet efforts to expand reforms to the rural areas quickly met with the opposition of the population, most probably due to the fact that the syllabus was still dominated by non-religious subjects in both elementary and primary schools, namely reading, writing and arithmetic, geography, hygiene, nature study, crafts, sports and, in the top classes, English and history. Boys had to work in the school gardens, while girls did needlework (ZNA BA 5/19; PRO CO 688/31, annual report 1949; Ziddy 2001: 20). Discipline, moral education, sports, agricultural training, gardening and ‘hygiene’ were major preoccupations of British educational officers (Hendry 1928: 346-8), reflecting Lancastrian traditions of educational discipline as introduced in England in the early 19th century. At the same time, colonial concepts of education in Zanzibar were not confined to the acquisition of ‘marketable skills’, the training of clerks and scribes for the British colonial administration, but also tried to convey British ideas of what constituted the ideal citizen of the empire. In this respect, sports and physical exercise, but also Scouting and ‘Cubing’ played a major role (see Loimeier 2006d: the colonial period ii: syllabuses and languages 301

121ff). The first DoE, Rivers-Smith, thus said with respect to football: ‘The obvious attraction which football has for the African, the facility with which he picks up the game and keenness he exhibits in playing when opportunity occurs, compels one to believe that provision for games would be a very powerful influence in inducing students to come to school’ (ZNA AC 18/1). The 1928 report on education, written by Zanzibar’s famous educator, Lawrence W. Hollingsworth, expressed a similar opinion: Cricket and football were carried on as usual in practices and matches. In the field competitions, open to all Zanzibari schools, there were some excellent contests, the winners in cricket being the Bohora school team and in football the Industrial apprentices...These activities help greatly in the rather difficult task of raising the tone and corporate spirit of this town institution; in 1929 it is intended to organize the sports on the ‘house’ system in order to foster competition and increase the pride of the students in their schools (ZNA BA 5/4). The emphasis on ‘marketable skills’ and ‘proper education’ including physical exercise provided ample ground for protests, however. In 1924, a group of Arabs from Pemba thus complained that ‘their youngsters did not receive adequate religious instruction in the Government schools’ (Bang 2003: 177). When Hendry presented this issue to the new Resident, Sir Claud Hollis, the Resident replied that a new commission should be formed, to investigate these questions, and added: ‘I do not wish to make the Arabs suspicious of our methods and I think it well to go slowly in any matters in which Koran teaching is concerned’ (Bang 2003: 177; ZNA AB 1/130). Having realized the importance of including representatives of the local intellectual elite in planning procedures, the Advisory Council on Education again met on 12 May 1924 and formed a commission which included the acting DoE, W.H. Ingrams, who replaced Hendry for a short period of time in 1924. For the first time in colonial history, a government committee also included the four leading qā īs as representatives of the religious establishment, namely, Amad b. Sumay, āhir b. Abī Bakr al-Amawī, Alī b. Muammad al-Mundhirī and Burhān b. Abd al- Azīz al-Amawī, thus signalling that it would listen to the voice of the religious scholars (see Bang 2003 and PRO CO 688/4 and ZNA AB 1/390, minute 9, ‘meeting of the Commission appointed to consider the question of Koran Teaching in the District Agricultural schools, meeting held on 12th May, 1924’). The report of the commission declared, with respect to efforts at developing a 302 chapter six syllabus that would include the teaching of ‘Koran’ and Arabic at government schools: The sub-committee was appointed to decide what passages of the Koran should be taught in the district schools. To avoid the pernicious habit of memorizing passages without understanding their meaning, explanations in Swahili will be printed side by side with the Arabic passages which are to be committed to memory. The Kathis recognize the bane- ful effects of the long-established local custom whereby the education of young boys is confined to the memorization of the necessary portions of the Koran in a language which they do not understand. They fully realize, and promised to point out to parents, the great advantages of sending their boys to school at an early age so that they may study other subjects concurrently with religion and at the same time be saved from falling into the state of intellectual atrophy produced by the native custom of keeping boys at Koran schools until they reach the age of ten. The question of the method of teaching the Koran in District Scho- ols such as Kizimkazi was discussed at length and the principle was agreed that the actual passages learnt by heart by the boys in these schools should be reduced to a minimum, that these passages should be made as intelligible as possible to the pupils, and that moral teaching can well be done by the medium of the Swahili language (ZNA AB 1/390). To bring these ideas into operation the committee agreed that, the ‘risala al-tawhid’ be translated into Swahili and used in the schools for the early teaching of religion; that a second book be prepared in two parts: Part 1: Selected passages from the Koran to be learnt by heart in Arabic by the pupils. Each passage is to have side by side with the Arabic a Swahili translation and the pupils are to be able to tell what the Arabic passage means. Part 2: A collection of moral precepts expounded in simple Swahili with reference to the passages in the Koran which enjoin these precepts, and an explanation or commentary of those passages (ZNA AB 1/390). In the next meeting of the Commission on 19 May 1924 (ZNA AB 1/390), the minutes of the last meeting were approved and Amad b. Sumay brought drafts of the translation of the texts suggested at the last meeting, the ‘risāla al-tawīd’ and the ‘selected ayas from the Koran’. These texts were discussed in the commission and the qā īs suggested that the texts would be sufficient for the teaching in the rural district schools, ‘where most children were of African origin, whereas they would be sufficient in the urban areas only with respect the colonial period ii: syllabuses and languages 303 to the teaching in the elementary classes’ (Bang 2003: 179).2 Apart from the Aya Zilizochaguliwa katika Kuraani takatifu and the risāla, the 1924 report on education also chose, for the teaching of Qur ān and ‘Islamic principles and ethics’ (at-tarbiya al-islāmiyya, or, more briefly, al-diāna, ‘Islamic Religious Instruction’ (IRI), as well as the teaching of Arabic, an introductory text in Arabic, namely tamrīn al-afāl by Burhan Mkelle that was published in two volumes in 1923 by the DeptoE in Zanzibar but had already been printed in 1918 in Cairo. Final corrections to the Swahili translation of the risāla were executed by Amad b. Sumay in October 1924, and by the end of that month the proofs had been read by āhir b. Abī Bakr al-Amawī (Bang 2003: 180). The text was finally published in a first edition in both Arabic and Kiswahili in 1925. In a letter to the Director of Education, Amad b. Sumay stressed in 1924: ‘Sir, I very much regret that owing to some oversight the translation of risalat al- tawhid was left undone, this however since the receipt of your letter has been taken up in hand and is in a speedy progress and I trust will be ready anon. Directly it is ready I shall be pleased to forward the same to you’ (ZNA AB 1/390). Apart from the fact that this letter again attests the long history of cooperation between Amad b. Sumay and the British administration, a major motivation for him to translate Arabic texts into Kiswahili seems to have been his critique of established forms of Islamic education, in particular, the Qur ānic schools. Teaching methods in these schools had actually been characterized by him, in a conversation with Harold Ingrams, as ‘parrot talk, parrot talk’ (Bang 2003: 184). This attitude was shared by other religious scholars such as al-Amīn b. Alī al-Mazrū ī. Despite successes in the field of syllabus development, the DoE, Hendry, was to point out later that a major problem for the development of modern education was still the ‘low state of Islamic religion

2 The ‘risala al-tawhid’ in reality was the risālat al-jāmia fī-bayān uūl al-dīn wa-l-fiqh wa-l-taawwuf li-madāris Zinjibār, an adaptation of a late 17th century Hadrami text by Amad b. Zayn al-ibshī (1658-1733) as translated into Swahili by Amad b. Sumay. It was eventually printed in 1926 by the Zanzibar Government Press and was a short text for the instruction of children in the basic tenets of Islam, as well as some notions of theology and Sufism (Bang 2003: 180). The author of the second booklet, Aya Zilizochaguliwa Katika Kurani Takatifu Kwa Sababu ya Kutumiwa Katika Vyuo Vya Unguja, ‘Verses that have been selected in the holy Qur ān to be used for teaching in the schools of Unguja’, was al-Amīn b. Alī al-Mazrū ī. The Swahili translation was completed in September 1924 by āhir b. Abī Bakr al-Amawī (ZNA BA 5/3; PRO CO 688/4: 29; Bang 2003: 180). 304 chapter six and morality on the coast’ (Hendry 1928: 351), referring, in particular, to the problems of increasing prostitution, lax parental control, early marriages, encouragement to concubinage and widespread venereal disease and continued to complain: ‘We are not dismayed. Discouraged and disappointed we may at times be, especially when a promising pupil reaches the age when he is most liable to these dangers and succumbs’ (Hendry 1928: 351). Yet, life had to go on and educational reforms brought first small successes,3 despite Hendry’s critical views of Amad b. Sumay’s texts (Hendry 1928: 352): One sect of Islam has started to hold regular evening meetings for schoolboys in their mosque. Small books on the tenets and moral precepts of Islam have been written by the late Chief Kadhi (Amad b. Sumay, who died in 1925, RL) and translated into Swahili for the benefit of the schoolboys:such books are but dry bones: they require the personal example of clean, decent living to inform them with the breath of life, and for this we depend on the growing number of young Arabs and Africans, especially teachers, who see more in life than the pleasu- res of the moment. British efforts to cut back the use of Arabic and to enhance Kiswahili triggered further criticism from the Arab population, however, as well as from some colonial administrators who viewed Arabic as an essential part of Zanzibar’s cultural heritage and as an important means of religious education. Also, the qā ī’s acceptance of the risāla and the aya zilizochaguliwa for teaching in government schools, where they were in fact taught from 1926, did not find unanimous support. On 12 September 1926, some citizens of Chake Chake thus complained, in a letter written by Umar Abdallāh b. Umar al-Mazrū ī to the British Resident, Costely-White, about the ‘wiping off of Koran’ from the syllabus and demanded that the whole Qur ān should be taught (Bang 2003: 181; ZNA AB 1/390): The Government had granted to its subjects the teaching of the young citizens. It has opened schools to teach them the Holly (sic) Koran,

3 In a letter to Resident Hollis of September 1924, a number of ‘Zanzibari Arabs’ as led by Muammad Hilāl and Abdallāh Muammad asked for the establishment of a library, considering the ‘degeneracy of the Arab youth, both in literature and good society and the custom so commonly practiced by the Arabs of not going to bed until late at night and spending the evenings in roaming about the streets, the natural consequence of which is the formation of bad habits’. Funds for this project were granted in 1927 but cancelled in 1928 due to mismanagement of the funds (ZNA AB 1/431). the colonial period ii: syllabuses and languages 305

Diana and the two languages (Arabic and English), and continued in executing the same for a long time. We now notice that the teaching is altogether different from what it was before. The Government has wiped off the most important subjects from religious and worldly point of view. The boys are taught neither Koran, Diana, nor Arabic or English language, but they are taught Swahili only in English characters. In Koran they are only taught the six suras, namely, al-fatiha, ikhlas, then the two suras called al-muawadatayni, (al-mu āwwi atān, ‘the two com- pensating ones’, i.e. sūrat al-nās, 114, and sūrat al-falaq, 113; RL), (then) al-kafirun as well as al-kawthar, and more that they are not taught from books by their seeing the letters and the vowels but they are taught to repeat them from memory. This results that the boys cannot distinguish between ‘alif’ (a), ‘ba’ (b), ‘fatha’ (â), ‘kasra’ (î). May we therefore venture your Excellency in telling you that the wiping off Koran and Diana has caused a great discontent and has become mise- rable to us, because Koran is the real bone of our religion. We therefore hope that your Excellency will kindly grant our request of teaching our boys as before, that is by teaching them the alphabet and the vowels etc., and so little by little until they finish the 30 chapters of (the) Koran. Only a few weeks later, the questions raised by al-Mazrū ī were brought to the notice of the DeptoE. In a letter to the Chief Secretary of the Protectorate dated 6 October 1926, the DoE, Hendry, explained that, in contrast to the content of these two petitions, ‘the Koran and religious teaching have not been wiped off in the Chake-Chake school. These are carried on strictly according to the views expressed by the Kathis’ (ZNA AB 1/390). He continued: With regard to Arabic language, it is not my intention to teach it in Chake Chake nor in any district school which is not purely Arab. On my next visit to Chake Chake I will hold a baraza and explain to them what is being done in these schools, that it is what a committee specially appointed to discuss the needs of Pemba has advised, that the Kuran is being taught according to the advice of the Kathis and how impossible it is to carry on any efficient teaching, if the first four years of a boy’s school life are complicated by learning a foreign language and two alphabets (ZNA AB 1/390). The discussion on the question of language of teaching continued to bother the British administration. The ‘language question’ had resurfaced in 1924, when the British started to reduce the role of Arabic in government schools in the context of their first efforts at reform (see al-Farsy 1972 and his chapter on Sayyid Manab; Purpura 1997: 187). In the context of British polemics against Qur ānic schools, as 306 chapter six well as the development of syllabuses for government schools, the question of language acquired particular relevance, as Zanzibaris repeatedly stressed the importance of both religious teaching (‘Diāna’) and the teaching of Arabic. It is possible in fact to say that the debate over the language of teaching cropped up with each new round of discussions of the syllabus. In a Legislative Council meeting of 21 March 1927, Sālim b. Kindī thus raised questions pertaining to British language policies: ‘Will the Government be pleased to state if there is truth in the rumour that the present tendency of the Education Department is to devote more attention to the teaching of Swahili than that of the Arabic language? Will the Koran be taught from a Swahili translation textbook, and will an English missionary correct the said translation for the benefit of the Education department?’ (ZNA AB 1/390; Bang 2003: 182). The Acting Chief Secretary answered by saying that ‘in view of the generally recognized fact that Swahili is the vernacular of all classes in this country’, the policy of the DeptoE was to employ it as the principal medium of instruction in elementary schools and in the lower standards of the primary school, and he continued, with respect to the issue of the syllabus: A committee was appointed in 1924 to consider the teaching of the Koran in elementary schools. The commission consisted of the four Zanzibar Kathis, the Director of Education and Mr. Ingrams. The Kathis were unanimously of the opinion that it would be of great value to teach the moral precepts of the Koran to children by means of a Swa- hili commentary than to continue the method of repetition employed in Koran schools. The Committee accordingly selected appropriate portions of the Koran and included them in a text-book. This book, which gives the Arabic original on one side and the Swahili commentary on the other, was prepared by the Kathis and the Swahili settled by them. No member of any missionary society took any part in the production of the publication (ZNA AB 1/390). In order to explain British language policies, the DoE, Hendry, repeated this argumentation in a letter to the President of the Arab Association of 21 April 1927 and stressed that: 1. The two books which the late Sheikh Ahmed bin Smeit (sic) wrote at the instance of a committee of the four Kadhis of Zanzibar are to be used in schools for the teaching of Diana and (adab) conduct. One side is printed in Arabic and is entirely the work of Ahmed bin Smeit, the other side is a translation in Swahili as requested by the Kadhis and no one has taken part in that translation except a Kad- the colonial period ii: syllabuses and languages 307

hi’s clerk, Muhammedan members of my department, and myself directing the work. 2. It was originally Sheikh Ahmed bin Smeit’s intention to select a number of passages from the Koran as the minimum number of passages for African boys in the district schools to learn by heart or read. I think that owing to his unfortunate and premature death he was not able to complete this intention. The new programme now adopted in consultation with prominent Arabs of passages to be learned in all Government schools is as follows: 3. In district schools where Arabic is not taught as a language, the Arabic alphabet will be taught so as to enable the pupils to read the Koran and this will, in the infant classes, take up most of the time allotted to the teaching of the Koran and Diana. One hour per day is devoted to the Kuran and Diana in these district schools. 4. In the Arabic classes of the town school the times devoted to Arabic subjects (including Kuran and Diana) are as follows: Infants: 10 hs., I Kuttab: 10 hs., II do.: 10 hs., III do.: 10 hs., I Pri- mary: 9 hs., II do.: 9 hs., III do.: 9 hs., IV do.: 8 hs (ZNA AB 1/390). In his reply to the DoE of 4 May 1927, the President of the Arab Association mentioned that the contents of the new teaching program had been discussed in a meeting of the Arab Association. The Association had come to the conclusion that the new program did not differ from the old one. The Association would thus like to submit a number of substitutions with respect to the teaching of Arabic, namely: That in view of the fact that in the Infant Classes, 1st, 2nd, and 3rd Kuttabs, only Kiswahili in Roman Characters and Arabic are taught, the ten hours a week devoted to the latter are far less than sufficient, and the Association suggest that the 30 hours a week for the above mentioned classed be divided equally between Kiswahili in Roman characters including Arithmetic and Arabic, That the nine hours a week devoted to the Arabic studies in the 1st, 2nd and 3rd classes in the Primary Schools are not sufficient, and the Association suggests the time be increased to ten hours. While in the 4th class and in the Teachers Training Schools nine and eight hours a week be devoted to the Arabic respectively. That with regards to the Girls’ School the Association wishes to postpone the consideration thereof pending the settlement of the questions relating to the boys schools. I have further to inform you that the Arabs consider the time spent by their children in learning Kiswahili in Roman Characters an unnecessary waste, and this is one of the main reasons why they hesitate to send their children to the Government Schools. 308 chapter six

I have to add that the Association wanted to ask for total exclusion of Kiswahili in Roman Characters from the curriculum of the Govern- ment Schools as far as the Arab boys are concerned and only great efforts on the part of Sheikhs Sulayman bin Mbaruk, Nasser bin Sulay- man, and Mohammed bin Hilal (al-Barwānī, RL) have brought them to the above conclusion (ZNA AB 1/390). In a letter to the Chief Secretary of 14 July 1927, the Secretary of the Arab Association repeated the association’s protest with regard to the development of British educational policies: ‘The present programme enforced in Government schools is to lessen the Arabic studies and increase Kiswahili has greatly annoyed Muslims in general and Arabs in particular...We have had several interviews and correspondence on the subject but have not reached any satisfactory results’ (ZNA AB 1/390). In a confidential memorandum of 21 July 1927 on Arabic in Arab classes, the DoE, Hendry, again summarized the argumentation of the DeptoE and responded to the questions raised by the Arab Association. After referring to the alleged success of the new education program in government schools, he rejected the idea that ‘Arabic is being sacrificed in order to push Swahili on’ (ZNA AB 1/390): In Arabic as in other subjects our endeavour is to improve the standard from below upwards. If Arab parents would take the trouble to avail themselves of my invitation to visit the school, they would find that the best of the Arab teachers are employed in the elementary classes of the town school. Shs. Abdul Bari, Abdul Rahman el Kindi and Burhan Muhammad (Mkelle, RL) all give lessons in these classes. The Hon. Seyyid Salim bin Kindi might profit by visiting the school instead of helping to foment unreasonable discontent. Hendry thus rejected the complaints about the role of Arabic, yet accepted the obvious fact ‘that there is serious apprehension among the Arab community. It is due, however, not to the language and Islam being less efficiently taught than in former years, but to the fact that the language is in a dying condition in Zanzibar. The more enlightened Arabs have realized this for many years’ (ZNA AB 1/390). Hendry continued to argue that some members of the Arab community obviously expected, ‘that the elementary school would be like a Koran school, that the pupils would be taught in Arabic only and that by the end of their course they would be able to speak and write Arabic fluently. This is of course an impossibility. What progress we have made has been seriously impeded by the lethargy and the colonial period ii: syllabuses and languages 309 opposition of the parents’ (ZNA AB 1/390). Hendry continued to complain that, despite the efforts of the DeptoE, the popularity of government schools had decreased, and it had been necessary ‘to admit Africans to fill up the numbers’ (ZNA AB 1/390). Hendry also complained about the character of the Arabic teaching at the GCS and remarked: ‘the truth is that Arabic is taught for no other reason than to please the Arab parents and to induce them to send their boys to school. Except in so far as it is required for religious instruction, it has no practical value to the protectorate. The number of hours devoted to it in the town Arab classes cannot be materially increased without serious detriment to the chances of the young Arab’ (ZNA AB 1/390). Hendry then stressed that ‘even far-seeing Arabs despise Swahili as a slave language. It is, however, the real mother-tongue, and therefore the inevitable medium of instruction in our schools’. Improvement in the standard of instruction in all subjects (including Arabic) would depend on the efficiency with which Swahili was taught. It was most important, however, to allay ‘the present dissatisfaction’: ‘It has been suggested to me by Shaykh Muammad b. Hilāl (al-Barwānī, RL) that an increase of one hour per week in the primary classes would satisfy the Association. I am willing to make this increase provided the suggestion is put forward through the proper channel and that it is understood that this is the utmost limit to which the government can go’ (ZNA AB 1/390). In an article titled ‘Some aspects of education in Zanzibar’ published in 1928 in the Journal of the African Society (Vol. XXVII, 342-52), Hendry summarized British educational policies, such as support for Kiswahili and the restriction of Arabic, and repeated the colonial mantra on Zanzibar, ‘the little mother of the East African dependencies’. The development of Indian education was summarized as having been induced, by means of grants ‘to improve their curricula and general standards. Persuasion, example and encouragement have played their part, and practically no legislation has been found necessary’. The ‘Zanzibari African’ was described as being ‘very far removed from the pagans of the interior. His many years of contact with civilisation have sharpened his intellect’. Finally, Hendry looked at the development of education ‘in the past’ and criticized the ‘parrot-like repetition of the Koran, a training more deadening to intellect can hardly be imagined, even at the present day, there still exists in the minds of many parents the bigoted idea that, before any secular education may be given, their children must become 310 chapter six hitimu, that is, able to read the Koran’ (Hendry 1928: 342). Due to entrenched British support for Swahili and opposition to Arabic regarding education policies, protests against these language policies continued, however. British positions on language were thus criticized in an anonymous letter to al-Falaq on 23 July 1930: We are at a loss to understand the objects which the Government is aiming at by following this policy! It is true that long since Arabic teaching was reduced in the school curriculum and wholly excluded from the district schools the Arabs have not ceased to forward petitions and to interview the Director of Education with a view to revise the scheme. But it is to be regretted that all efforts were discountenances and the same education curriculum though unsuited to the needs of the time—is maintained. What we demand from our Government is not too much. We want the teaching of Arabic to be increased and the pupils’ knowledge in all subjects widened by imparting to them a sound education. What reasons has the Government then, to cause us to make our children learn a language that does not qualify its scholars for admission into a primary school abroad? If the object of teaching Kiswahili to our children is intended to keep us on the same level and standards as the natives of Tanganyika—the working of this place is impossible, as the points of comparison between the two peoples are far apart, in respect of language, race, literature and society...Why should the im pressionable school age of our children be wasted away in reading Swahili books so that, the children leave school and the signs of ignorance are pronounced on their faces? Does the Government intend to make us one of the many symbols of ignorance perpetuated in Africa? We the Muslim public in general and the Arabs in particular voice to your Excellency our entire dissatisfaction with the existing scheme of Education and declare it to be unsuitable to our needs. We hope H.E. will take the matter in hand before all Muslims in this Protectorate are compelled to open a school of their own and withdraw their children from the Government schools, as these only tend to increase their ignorance (ZNA AB 1/390). In addition to the ongoing campaign of the Arab Association which started in 1927, supporting Arabic and more religious instruction and opposing the use of English and Kiswahili, there was a ‘letter to the editor’ movement in 1930 in the newspaper al-Falaq, where, amongst others, ‘a country Muslim’ as well as ‘a Muslim from the plantations’ voiced their opinions. As a result of these developments, the British became increasingly sensitive on issues concerning the syllabus not only with respect to the religious importance of Arabic, but also on account of the opinion ‘that we have to avoid all unnecessary disturbances of the traditional order as well as to minimize the colonial period ii: syllabuses and languages 311 the natural disturbances to what we call progress’ (ZNA AB 1/390 and Purpura 1997: 196). The growing awareness of problems in the sphere of education was fuelled by the on-going crisis of the government schools and the resistance of local religious scholars against Kizungu education. Due to these signals of protest, the British started to prepare for another round of reforms in the early 1930s. In a letter to Sulān Khalīfa b. ārub of 8 September 1930, the Secretary of the AA, Hāshil b. Rashīd al-Miskirī, proposed a number of modifications of the government school syllabus and asked the Sultan to sanction their implementation, in particular with respect to the role of Arabic: Kuttāb standard I: In the Infant Class, the periods of Arabic language should be increased to 20 periods a week—Qur ān reading and writing. Kuttāb standard II: The periods of Arabic language should be increased to 20 a week—reading Qur ān, tamrīn al-afāl part I or any book of the same kind. Kuttāb standard III: The periods of Arabic language should be increased to 15 periods: Qur ān to the end (5), Reading (muāla a; 5), Writing (2), Conversation (1), Composition (1), Diāna (1). Kuttāb standard IV: Should be abolished altogether. Primary School standard I: More periods of Arabic subjects including grammar should be maintained, i.e. they should be increased to 15 periods. Primary School standard II: The teaching should be in conformity with the present schedule. Primary School standard III: The teaching should be in conformity with the present schedule but the Swahili language must not used as a medium of teaching. Primary School standard IV: The present schedule to remain unchanged. Arabic teaching should be introduced (ZNA AB 1/390). On 28 October 1930, the ADoE, G.B. Johnson, later supported by the DoE, Hendry, reacted to these propositions in a note to the Chief Secretary (ZNA AB 1/390). Johnson indeed advocated reforms of British education policies and suggested to rethink the role of Arabic. After repeating the ‘parrot’-mantra, Johnson also named, for the first time in the development of colonial education policies, a political argument for a possible change in educational policies, namely that one did not want to create ‘too much unrest among the Arab popula- 312 chapter six tion by stressing the teaching of Kiswahili too much’, confirming Muslim convictions that Qur ānic instruction ‘was merely a bait to lure them (Muslim children) into a trap’ (Sa īd b. Alī al-Mughayrī, quoted in Bang 2003: 183). In detail, Johnson argued: I think that parents who are compelled to send their children to a Government school instead of sending them voluntarily to a Koran school of their own choice have a right to expect that the religious teaching given in the Government school shall not fall below the traditional standard. Whether or not it be acknowledged that they have this right a school system can never be fully successful in face of the determined opposition and hostility of the majority of parents of the children. Therefore as a matter of policy, if not of justice, it seems clear that we should give enough time to religious subjects to enable the teachers of district schools to cover in the four years course all ground covered in Koran schools in about 2-3 years on the average. In the latter schools there seems to be no systematic teaching or order. The child works from morning to night at a parrot like stultifying repetition of the Koran in a language which he does not understand and sometimes cannot even read although reading is all that is required of him. Remarkable feats of memory, which cannot be good for the child, result in his apparently being able to read the contents of a page. I have found, however, that in many cases if the book is turned upside down or the page turned over, the reading goes on uninterruptedly from memory. This pitiable ‘education’ is often acquired in ill-lit and insuf- ficiently ventilated buildings where pupils squat about on the floor in postures which may not improve their general physique. It would be altogether to the advantage of the children that Government schools should effectively take the place of Koran schools. We have to avoid all unnecessary disturbance of the traditional order of things as well as minimize natural disturbances inevitable to what we call progress. I therefore advocate an increase in Koran teaching as shown in the attached schedule. If my suggestions are adopted I think the Govern- ment could introduce effective compulsion with a clear conscience as far as the sufficiency of the religious education given in the schools is concerned. Two aspects of this problem have to be considered: a. the teaching of Arabic as the language of the Arabs; b. the teaching of Arabic as the Muhammadan language of the Koran. These two aspects are so intimately related that it is not possible to divorce them. After careful analysis of the present government school time-tables, with due consideration of other subjects, I feel justified in conceding the following increases in the time at present given weekly to Arabic in the Arabic classes of that school (the GCS; a week had a total number of 30 teaching periods of 40 minutes each, RL) (ZNA AB 1/390): the colonial period ii: syllabuses and languages 313

Class Present share Proposed share (1931) Sub-Std. 1: 10 17 Sub-Std. 2: 10 12 Std. 1: 10 14 Std. 2: 10 12 Std. 3: 10 11 Std. 4: 8 10 Std. 5: 8 9 Std. 6: 8 9

Johnson went on to stress that: The problem of making the teaching more efficient is much harder to solve...Arabic is an exceptionally difficult language to teach well. Its value as an everyday language in Zanzibar is insignificant. In this sense it is of interest only to the 20,000 Arabs of the Protectorate and they have themselves let their language die out in the home through lack of effort to keep it alive, so that today children coming from good Arab homes do not in some cases know even the Arabic word for mother. In the circumstances it is impossible to recommend expenditure which would be required to import properly qualified teachers of Ara- bic from Egypt or the Sudan. I do not consider there is any case for varying the present arrangements in the Teachers’ Training School. As necessity arises we select special boys for further Arabic studies with a view to their teaching the subject. Other than this Arabic is not taught in the T.T.S. and I would be opposed to its introduction as being a waste of time for students who are destined mainly to be teachers in district schools. What is required in the T.T.S. is the teaching of better methods of teaching the very elementary Arabic required for religious purposes in all schools. I hope this side of teacher training will be strengthened shortly. As a result of these concessions it is to be presumed that the hostile spirit of criticism which the Arab Association has evi- denced against the work of this Department during the last few years will now be replaced by a spirit of friendly cooperation and loyal support (ZNA AB 1/390). The ADoE then continued to summarize the development of the debate about the syllabus: The teaching of Arabic as the Muhammedan language of the Koran affects all Muhamadans (sic) alike. It is essential to the tradition of religious education of the Muhamadan child. Hence it cannot be ignored. Attempts to belittle it are wrong and inevitably fail. The reduced scheme of religious teaching forced upon the schools as a result of the 1924 Commission has always been unpopular. Within a few months of 314 chapter six

the reduction a protest was registered in 1926 by the Arabs of Chake Chake. They pointed out that the teaching was insufficient and could not be given effectively without including Arabic...In March the following year Seyyid Salim Kindeh asked in the Legislative Council that more Arabic should be taught, and questioned the suitability of the subject matter of the religious teaching given in Government schools. Later on in 1927 the Arab Association took up the question. Since then the Arab journal al-Falaq has conducted several campaigns in attack of the policy of this Department. Among the African population the commonest reason put forward against sending children to school is that the religious teaching falls short of the traditional standard (ZNA AB 1/390). As a result of these discussions, the 1924 syllabus was revised and a modified syllabus was adopted in 1931 (ZNA AB 1/390). The new syllabus (III) provided the following structure for the teaching of Arabic and Qur ān in sub-standards I and II at government schools: Sub-Standard I, first term: Reading: Alphabet, all forms of all letters. Writing: single letters. Qur ān: learn to recite by heart the following sūras: al-fātia (1), al-nās (114), al-falak (113), al-ikhlā (112), al-masad (111), al-nar (110), al-kāfirūn (109), al-kawthar (108); the five principles of Islam. Sub-standard I, second term: Reading: Alphabet, continue and complete teaching all forms of the letters. Letters joined to make long vowels. Reading words of up to three letters joined. Reading from blackboard words (as) written up from tamrīn al-afāl (part 1). Writing: Single letters and letters joined to make long vowels. Qur ān: learn by heart the following sūras: al-ma ūn (107), quraysh (106), al-fīl (105), al-humazah (104); The attributes of God and the Prophets as summarized in ps. 1-2 of risālat al-jāmi a. Sub-standard I, third term: Reading: Reading as many of the first 6 sūras of juz amma as possible. Writing. Two letters joined. Qur ān: Learn to recite by heart the following sūras: al- ar (103), al-takāthur (102), al-qāri ah (101), al- adiyāt (100), al-zalzalah (99). Sub-standard II, first term: Reading: finish juz amma. In Arab classes the first 15 lessons in tamrīn al-afāl (part 1) with translation to Swahili; words combining every type of letter and combination of letters. Writing: The writing sheets of Abd al-Bāri to be used throughout; extracts from lessons read in tamrīn al-afāl; translation from Arabic the colonial period ii: syllabuses and languages 315

to Swahili of passages read in tamrīn al-afāl. Qur ān: See above (reading), juz amma to be completed; if desired the following sūras may be committed by heart: al-bayyināh (98), qadr (97), al- alaq (96), al-tīn (95); al-risāla al-jāmi a, p. 3 (Hakika ya mungu na maneno ya Mtume). Sub-standard II, second term: Reading: tabāraka (i.e. tabāruk dhī l- ulā, RL); in Arab classes lessons 16-24 of tamrīn al-afāl, part 1 with translation. Writing: As in first term, continue sheets by Abd al-Bāri . Qur ān: Coninue work of first term; if desired learn by heart any or all of the following sūras: al-shar (94), al- uā (93), al-layl (92), al-shams (91); al-risāla al-jāmi a, pp. 4-5 (Nguzo za Udhu: Utenguko wa Udhu). Arabic: Use of ‘al-‘. urūf al-shamsiyya wa-l-qamariyya; rules concerning these letters. Use of tanwīn. Translation of the coppula in Arabic. Vocabulary and exercise as above. Sub-standard II, third term: In Arab classes lessons 24 to end of tamrīn al-afāl, part 1; continue work of previous terms and complete papers; extracts from lessons read in tamrīn; translation of pieces read in tamrīn; learn by heart if desired all or any of sūras al-balad (90), al-fajr (89), al-ghāshiyyah (88), al-a lā (87); risālat al-jāmi a, pp. 5-6 (Sharti za Sala, the ‘conditions of the prayer’); Arabic: gender of nouns; dual number; strong plural of nouns; vocabularies and exercises as above (ZNA AB 1/390). In a letter to the Chief Secretary of 17 March 1931, the DoE, Hendry, complained that despite these reforms, the Arab Association was still not happy. The DeptoE was thus in the position of ‘having abandoned the original idea of getting an opinion from a large and representative chosen committee and of having to deal with a petition sent through His Highness’. Regarding the proposals of reform of the ADoE (Johnson), Hendry remarked that these proposals were designed to take away from the petitioners all cause of discontent. Although he had his doubts, ‘whether even these generous concessions will satisfy them, I think they should be given a trial provided H.H. thinks that they will calm the present discontent’ (ZNA AB 1/390). With respect to the GCS Arabic classes the proposals would mean, the application of modern methods to the peculiar conditions of Zan- zibar, i.e. we are to break away from the methods which under Abdul Bari have been in operation for years. It is in effect a case of ‘brighter’ Arabic instead of the dull lessons of heretofore. This system can be introduced only gradually and the amount of Arabic that the children will be able to absorb under this system will depend a great deal on the way in which our teachers are able to rise to the problem. The time 316 chapter six

given to the study of the Koran and Arabic is large in the first two years, but we have realized in the last few years that to make our village education really suitable to present village conditions and acceptable it is necessary to satisfy the parents by devoting a good proportion of time to the Koran. I agree with the Acting Director that with these timetables we shall be better able to apply compulsion effectively (ZNA AB 1/390). The debate about the direction and contents of education and the role of languages continued in a series of exchanges of memoranda and comments involving the British Resident, Rankine, as well as the DoE, Hendry, and the Arab Association (PRO CO 618/60/12). In a ‘Memorandum of the Advisory Council on education, Zanzibar, on educational policy’ of December 1933, which had last met in 1927, the question of the further development of the ‘Rural Middle School’ and of the teaching of English was discussed.4 The Council maintained that primary education of the rural population should have precedence: ‘Education of a large proportion of the masses in the rural districts, for the Arabs and Africans who form these masses, the aim is an elementary education of both sexes such as will tend to improve the conditions of Arab life and to make the African an industrious citizen’ (PRO CO 618/60/12). With respect to these general goals, the Council criticized that there was too much teaching of Arabic, ‘a proportion upon which the Arab community have up to date insisted’ (PRO CO 618/60/12). The Council suggested to reduce the teaching of Arabic and to increase the teaching of English, as well as to improve the organization of the government schools. These considerations were rejected in a memorandum of the Arab Association, as addressed to the Secretary of State for the Colonies on 5 February 1934 (PRO CO 618/60/15). The Arab Association in particular stressed the ‘nefarious’ effects of the abolishment of slavery that drove Arab landowners into debt and forced them to sell their properties to Indian money lenders. Also, the Arab Association rejected the present educational policy, since it was based upon that of the mainland which is unsuitable to the Arab Community in Zanzibar which has its own culture and history and is therefore naturally averse from being mingled with primitive natives of the mainland whose culture and history are in process of formation only now.

4 Apart from the DoE, Hendry, there were seven other members of the Council, including Omari Shamba, Khimji Suali and Sayf b. Sulaymān al-Bū Sa īdī (PRO CO 618/60/12). the colonial period ii: syllabuses and languages 317

Moreover it might be added that the natives of Zanzibar and Pemba are Swahilis who also being Mohammedans of old standing have their own share in the culture and civilisation imprinted in these islands by the pioneer Arabs and it is therefore a gross error on the part of the government to mingle them in educational matters with the natives of the mainland the majority of whom are pagans (PRO CO 618/60/15). In an appendix to this memorandum, the Arab Association attacked British educational policies in even stronger terms. In the eyes of the Arab Association, British educational policies were intended to ‘make Zanzibar to conform to a common East African policy. We much regret that we have perforce to preface this memorandum with some unwelcome criticism of our Education Department. But in doing so we feel that we are discharging our duty in exposing the weak points in a system which calls for an immediate and thorough overhaul in order to make it more adaptable to local conditions’ (PRO CO 618/60/15). Instead of respecting the Islamic character of Zanzibar, British educational policies supported the teaching of Swahili even in the kuttāb: ‘Even though Swahili may be the language adopted by us in our homes as a matter of convenience it does not follow that the learning of that language offers any material advantage to our boys that is an advantage over that of any other modern language’ (PRO CO 618/60/15). The Arab Association suggested abolishing class IV of primary school education (only infant class and kuttāb I and II were to remain), as children in kuttāb III seemed only to repeat what had been taught in kuttāb I and II. Instead of teaching Kiswahili, there should be more teaching of English and Arabic, as Arabic was part of ‘our identity’. Indian schools, for instance, taught Indian languages such as Gujarati. The memorandum concluded that although Zanzibar was officially regarded as an ‘Arab state’, Arabic was being marginalized as the official language of Zanzibar (PRO CO 618/60/15). The British administration answered this critique in a statement issued on 11 April 1934. The British Resident summarized British positions with respect to educational and language policies in one sentence only, namely that ‘the general attitude of the Arabs seems to be that they are entitled on racial grounds to preferential treatment’ and referred to a note by DoE Hendry to the memorandum of the Arab Association where Hendry rejected the argumentation of the Arab Association: 318 chapter six

My department has from its inception been pro-Arab. (Yet) the young Arab in Zanzibar is definitely but not hopelessly decadent.He is han- dicapped by a home atmosphere which does not encourage study by lack of parental control and by lack of parental interest in education. As the appendix stands, it is a tissue of inaccuracy, ingratitude, ignorance and misrepresentation. We have always paid the most scrupulous attention to a) the Islamic religion, b) the desire of the Arabs to remain Arabs which includes the effort to teach them the Arabic language efficiently. All past efforts to get the Arab Association to agree to the introduction of efficient measures for the latter have been unavailing and the time has come when strong measures must be taken (PRO CO 618/60/15). Hendry continued to point out that a new syllabus had been introduced in 1931 replacing the first syllabus as developed in 1924. This first syllabus, as supported by the qā īs, had actually reduced the learning of the ‘Koran’ to a minimum time in the rural elementary schools. The new syllabus, by contrast, aimed at making every pupil ‘hitimu’ by the end of his four-year course. And Hendry added: Our method of teaching the Koran is educational. The interest of the infants is kept up by teaching Arab characters and Arab vocabulary concurrently with Roman characters and Swahili words…Previous to 1931, the hours (for Arabic, Qur ān and Religion, RL) throughout the elementary classes had been 10. In 1934 they are 12, 12, 14 and 12. The medium of instruction in the elementary stage is Swahili. With pupils from homes in 90% of which Arabic is not used at all, no other medium is possible. What the Arab Association demands is vague as it always is. It appears to be a) to cut out one class. It is, they allege, unnecessary. This educational advice from persons who are not educational experts may be taken for what it is worth...b) to cut out Swahili as the medium of instruction altogether after the third year. Even if it were practicable to do this, it would be most unsound educationally (PRO CO 618/60/15). With respect to the accusation that ‘our educational policy was permitted to be dictated and made conform to a common East African policy’, Hendry replied (PRO CO 618/60/15) that: this is a typical example of the political claptrap used by the section of Arabs which claims to be representative of the entire Arab community of Zanzibar and Pemba. We do, it is true, use the nomenclature recommended by the Dar es Salaam Conference of Educationists, 1929, paragraph 15, and we look to Makerere for higher education of some of our pupils: but our policy in the main was framed before any such conference was held. the colonial period ii: syllabuses and languages 319

Despite the criticisms by the Arab Association, the DoE even claimed, in the 1934 annual report, that ‘Koran teaching is now on such a footing that I have no fear about its efficacy. Every girl admitted before 1932 is now hitimu. The children admitted in February, 1933, are all reading the Msahafu. The majority have read 14 juzu already. The 1934 class was not admitted until the month of August and are therefore still in the elementary stage’ (ZNA BA 5/8). The 1936 report then reproduced a report by the ‘Supervisor of Education on the Rural Elementary Schools’ (G.B. Johnson) on ‘Koran’ education in government schools: Emphasis is laid on religious instruction in all schools and a dispro- portionate amount of time from the western point of view, is devoted to it. During the course of the year well over two hundred boys at the district schools became hitimu. This number would have been much larger but for the fact that many pupils have already become hitimu at village Koran schools before joining the Government schools. Increased attention was also given to school Maulidis and at several places a choir of school pupils assisted at the village maulidis while the teachers cooperated in the organization of these religious festivals and took their turns at reading portions of the Holy Koran...My Arab assistants again distinguished themselves by their untiring devotion to the school and very competent execution of their various duties. The greatest responsibility devolved upon the Senior Resident Master, Sheikh Abdullah Ahmed Sayf al-Hatmy. Sheikh Amor Ali Ameir al-Marhubi spent the first half of the year at the Jeanes Training Centre at Zomba, and during his absence his place was taken by Sheikh Muhammed Abdulrahman Mahmoud al-Hamdany (ZNA BA 5/10). The language debate did not to come to an end in the mid-1930s however, as these last statements seem to suggest. Rather, British colonial officers continued to criticize the ‘undue’ stress on Arabic in the educational system, although their argumentation became increasingly contradictory. In 1938, F.B. Wilson, the agricultural officer whose report on rural education triggered the reorientation of British educational policies in 1939, thus still repeated established (colonial) wisdom, by saying that nobody, in fact, ‘in possession of an adequate knowledge of Swahili would agree that it is a poor language’. On the contrary, it was a rich language with a clearly defined structure and a wide vocabulary. The Arabs, by contrast, were a small minority of the population of Zanzibar and numerically insignificant in mainland territories (ZNA AB 1/390): 320 chapter six

They have never made any attempt to perpetuate their language in East Africa and owing to this lethargy and the influence of concubinage with African women, Arabic in their homes has been largely replaced by Swahili. When Arab children come to school it is rare even to find a child who knows the Arabic word for ‘mother’. Arabic has no practical value or general interest in East Africa and it would be impossible to justify expenditure in attempting to revive it. In addition, even in those schools where Arabic was taught, the quality of teaching was usually bad due to ‘the complete lack of teachers with an adequate knowledge of Arabic’ (ZNA AB 1/390). Swahili thus had to become the language of teaching in the schools from Standard I to Standard VIII. Arabic was not a medium of instruction but only a subject to be taught from Standard II: ‘It is not taught below that standard but the children are drilled in it phonetically to enable them to start reading the Koran. They do so at this stage purely parrot-wise, with little or no idea of what it means’ (ZNA AB 1/390). At the same time, F.B. Wilson maintained that, although Arabs were a minority (in mainland territories), it must be remembered that Arab influence and culture are dominant factors amongst the indigenous African population of the Protectorate. In Zanzibar the local Africans look to copy the Arab. Great importance should in my opinion be placed upon the fact that Arabic and the religion of Islam are indissolubly associated. Every good Mohamedan whether Arab or African must learn to read or to recite the whole of the Holy Koran in Arabic. For (this) reason a very large number of people in Zanzibar, who are considered illiterate, are able to read and write in Arabic characters. Up to the present little use has been made by Government of this widespread literacy which has been acquired at the cost of the people themselves and of their own initiative. So far as the country people are concerned, the teaching of Swahili in Roman characters is only favoured in so far as it is thought to be the means of obtaining a post in Government service. Otherwise this teaching is unpopular with the older people and looked upon with suspicion by many (ZNA AB 1/390). The British emphasis on Kiswahili as the language of instruction at the same time continued to trigger critique from Arabs in Zanzibar. In 1938, a letter to al-Falaq started a new discussion about the issue of colonial education (ZNA AB 1/390). An unknown reader of al- Falaq had polemically stated that ‘it is really wonderful, the Government does not wish to give the people the education they desire and she knows that the people would prefer to die than to the colonial period ii: syllabuses and languages 321 learn the education which the Government offers them’. In his further argumentation the author complained that the teaching of Kiswahili and History did not fulfil the aspirations of the population: ‘Kiswahili is intended for the killing of Arabic. This is what the Arabs think of. The people cannot accept Kiswahili. History is the glory of the nation. The Arabs want to see their children taught the history of their ancestors. They cannot get that. We have got nothing to do with the history of Europe, its kings and warriors. The people are criticizing the Government for teaching the history and the Kiswahili’ (ZNA AB 1/390). The discussion with respect to the state of education was reflected in Zanzibar’s major Arabic paper, al-Falaq, in a series of four articles titled al-talīm wa-mashākil (sic: ‘the education and problems’) that were all written in the temporal context of the appointment of the new DoE, Foster, in 1939. In the first article, al-Falaq maintained that the number of parents that sent their children to a Government school, was still very small, ‘that the British policy of education had tried to smash the legacy of Arabic culture in Zanzibar’ (anna siyāsat al-talīm fī Zinjibar takhaū alā inqādh al-lugha al-arabiyya wa-l- adab al-arabiyya). Secondly, teacher training was still very bad and the teaching of languages suffered from the problem of the distortion of languages (ta rīf al-alsun) as children were no longer taught how to pronounce Arabic properly: thus, many mistakes occurred. The major problem, however, was the policy of the government in the preceding 35 years, in particular the fact that the British administration pretended that pre-colonial education did not exist, and that the British did not recognize the existence of local schools (al-Falaq, 8.7.1939). This issue was also addressed in the second article, which focused on the question as to what the government was actually doing with the taxes of the citizens: while Arabs saw education as an obligation for all believers (al-talīm far alā kull mu min wa- mu mina), far too few children attended school, not only in the rural areas but also in Zanzibar Town. At the same time, the government had spent 602,941 Sh. on education in 1938. From that budget, 4,203 Sh. were spent on four students who were sent to Makerere, 3,500 Sh. on one student who was sent to Beirut, and 1,000 Sh. for the support of a student in London. A major problem, however, was that most parents saw the Qur ānic school as the first and major step that their children should complete before going on to another school. In addition, language was a problem: Swahili had been made the 322 chapter six major language of instruction, with the argument that it was the language of the population, while only Arabs demanded Arabic as the language of instruction, even though their children did not understand this language. Also, the Arabic script had been replaced by the Latin script as this script was allegedly more conducive to results in school. Al-Falaq maintained that even if Swahili was the language of the population, it was an oral medium only and not a written language (wa-lakin naqālū innaha lugha samāiyya). In addition, it would not be correct to say that Arabic was not spoken: 100% of the Arabs spoke Arabic as well as English, while only 50% of them spoke Kiswahili (al-Falaq, 15.7.1939). In a third article, al-Falaq asked whether it was right to put a major stress in education on crafts and agriculture and confine education more or less to these disciplines ( aar al-talīm al-sanāī wa-l- zirāī). It would be more useful to teach ethics, faith, language, history and literature. These disciplines formed the very basis of any community (qad assassa aslān li-l-waaniyya wa-kull umma fi-l-ālam tataallam lughatihā wa-tataallam adābihā wa tataallam ta- wārīkhihā). In addition, al-Falaq pointed out that European history might be important, yet references to Zanzibar’s historical heroes such as Sultan Sa īd b. Sulān, the Mwinyi Mkuu or the poet Nāir b. Sālim al-Rawwāī were missing in the syllabus. Al-Falaq concluded by proposing another conference with the new DoE, that would include the ‘ra īs’ (leader) of the Arab teachers, the speaker of the African teachers and three further personalities nominated by the Arab Association, in order to examine the present situation of education and to propose a solution. Al-Falaq did not want a complete change of the system of education, however, but gradual improvement (al-Falaq, 22.8.1939). In a fourth article al-Falaq pointed out that there were many Arabic-speaking Africans (al-ifrīqiyyīn al-mustaaribīn) and that 55% of the population was able to read and write in Arabic, as F.B. Wilson’s study had shown, while only 1% of the population was able to read and write in English and in the Latin script, and only 7% was able to read and write both. Finally, 37% of the population was illiterate in Unguja. In Pemba these data were 32%, 2%, 2% and 64% respectively. This reflected a high ratio of alphabetization in Arabic and demonstrated that British educational policies had largely failed in the past 35 years (al-Falaq, 19.8.1939). the colonial period ii: syllabuses and languages 323

6.4. From Foster to Hann: diāna Accomplished (1939-1963)

In the context of the 1939/1940 educational reforms and the integration of Qur ānic schools into the government school system, the British eventually realized that they needed the cooperation of the local scholars to implement real reforms in government education. This change of policy also brought about recognition of the role of Arabic as a language of instruction. In a third stage of education reforms in the 1940s and the 1950s, the British thus not only assented to give religious scholars a major vote in the development of a new syllabus for the Qur ānic schools but also handed over supervision of the Qur ānic schools to scholars such as Abdallāh āli al-Farsy (see chapter 7). As a last consequence of this policy, the British administration started the development of the first modern Islamic mahad, the Muslim Academy, which was to assume the training of government Qur ānic school teachers in the Protectorate (see chapter 8). When the British administration agreed to integrate Qur ānic education in the curriculum of the government schools in 1939/1940, the government schools also recovered from years of boycott. From the 1940s, student numbers rose rapidly. As a consequence, 35% of the boys and 22% of the girls were studying in government primary schools by 1959, while secondary school enrolment grew from 442 to 984 boys between 1955 and 1961, and 185 to 526 girls in the same period of time (Burgess 2002a: 12).5 Among the school children, Africans were still under-represented. At the same time, more and more secondary school graduates went overseas for higher education: in 1949, 21 students had gone overseas, by 1963 their number had grown to more than 400 in Great Britain alone (Burgess 2002a: 12; see also chapter 5). The 1939/1940 reforms not only led to the integration of Qur ānic schools into the government schools system, but also to the development of a new syllabus for religious education, which was finally accepted by Zanzibar’s population. The 1944 report on education noted that: ‘A committee of teachers drew up a new syllabus of Islamic Religious Instruction which was approved by the Kadhis of Zanzibar and is being introduced into all primary schools; this should

5 In 1949, the ‘Advisory Committee on Education in the Colonies’ had remarked, among other things, that ‘rather under 30% of the population of school age was actually at school’ (ZNA AD 3/10). 324 chapter six result in a considerable improvement in both the standard and scope of religious teaching’ (ZNA BA 5/15; PRO CO 688/20). The committee of ‘teachers’ convened, in fact, in 1945 only and although British attitudes towards education had changed, a number of open questions remained. On 11 July 1944, the ADoE, P.E. Williams, thus, stressed (PRO CO 618/80/2): In the past, primary education has received very little support in the rural areas. In the past, a boy on entering school received a limited amount of instruction in the Koran and began at once the normal schooling in secular subjects. In recent years, the curriculum has been altered and for the first two years the majority of the teaching has been religious and special Koran teachers have been employed for this work. These teachers are often almost illiterate, are for the most part self taught and follow the traditional but tedious methods demanded by the older generation; but school attendance has greatly increased and schools are certainly more popular. Williams suggested that primary school teachers up to Standard VI should be trained in Zanzibar, whereas junior secondary school teachers who were supposed to teach standards VII and VIII should be sent to Makerere for further education. Also, he asked for the establishment of a permanent post for an inspector of schools in Unguja as well as Pemba, as it was almost impossible for the DoE to visit all schools personally (PRO CO 618/80/2). In a letter by DoE Harvey of 7 May 1945, Rajab Himid (Makunduchi; B65), asan b. ‘Shaykh’ Jamal al-Layl (Ndijani; B82), Abdallāh āli al-Farsy and Sayyid Umar Abdallāh, were eventually appointed members of a new committee of enquiry which was asked ‘to enquire into the question of religious teaching in schools and to make recommendations to me with special emphasis on methods of teaching and also to produce a graded syllabus’ (ZNA AD 3/8). On 21 May 1945 an Ibā ī scholar was co-opted to join the committee, namely Amad Zahrān, the headmaster of the Government Central School, and on 13 July 1945 Muammad Abubakar of the Government Central School joined the group as well. The new ‘Report on the Syllabus and Teaching of Koran and Diana’ was accepted on 4 October 1945 by Umar b. Sumay, the Chief Qā ī, and Sa īd b. Rashīd al-Ghaythī, the Ibā ī Qā ī (ZNA AD 3/8): ‘We have gone through the attached report on religious teaching in schools and we consider that the curriculum set out in the said report is very appropriate and have no comments to offer’. In its report, the committee started by saying the colonial period ii: syllabuses and languages 325

(ZNA AD 3/8): ‘In the first place, the committee would like to draw the attention of all concerned to the essential part which religious instruction plays in the education of our children. Islam, especially if well presented, will solve many of our social and economic problems’. Essentially, the new draft syllabus (IV) for religious studies (ZNA AD 3/8, annex, and PRO CO 688/32) was a revised version of the 1931 syllabus for Islamic religious instruction (IRI). It had the following contents: Qur ān class: By the end of the year, juz amma should be mastered. In addition to this, the pupils should be able to recognize at once any word, indeed, any phrase anywhere in the muaf. This should not cause much worry on the part of the teacher, because if he looks after his methods, the results will look after themselves. Methods: The teacher should mainly concentrate on black-board work. This does not necessarily mean that each and every word from ‘Alhamdu’ to ‘ amma’ will have to appear on it. ‘Vijuzuu’ (i.e. several printed juz , RL) will be provided and some of the reading can be done from them straight away. Crude methods (are) to give way to proper ones. Where this cannot happen, owing to the absence of a qualified trained teacher, the untrained teachers may be left to follow their own methods. But the head teacher must see to it that they get guidance fairly often. Realizing the danger of putting small children into the hands of a person with no training whatsoever, the committee suggests that as far as possible the present Koran teachers should be given higher classes. New Arabic cards (biāqāt arabiyya), which are being prepared by Shaykh Rajab will be found to be extremely useful and should be made use of in the teaching of letters. Also exercises from ‘Kijuzuu’ (Bombay print) can be of much service to the teacher. The pupils must start their Koran reading from ‘al-hamdu qul audhu’ (i.e. the first juz which starts with the sūrat al-fātia and the words ‘al-hamdu qul audhu’ and then continues with the short sūras of the 30th juz , starting with the sūrat al-nās and the words ‘qul audhu bi-rabbi al-nās’, RL) and so on. In this way the children without exerting any effort will know by heart, the short ‘sūras’ which they will need for their daily prayer. The children should be provided with ‘Vijuzuu’ so that they can practice the reading of the ‘āyāt’ of the ‘sūras’ from both the black board and the pages of the little books. Seven periods should be allotted for writing. The words read in the cards should form suitable material for written work. Also, tamrīn al-afāl Part 1 has very good exercises and may be used. The committee had the opportunity of examining some of the Arabic cards which are being prepared by Shaykh Rajab and the following suggestions were offered: 1. More Arabic words to be inserted in the cards. 326 chapter six

2. New letters only to appear on the top of the cards. 3. More than one letter should be introduced in the first card and one letter only in each of the subsequent cards. Standard I: Revision on ‘ amma’ and then to do ‘tabāraka’ thorough ly. Standard II: Revision on the two previous ‘juz ‘s’ (i.e. the first, which starts with the sūrat al-fātia, and the 30th juz , which starts with sūra 114, al-nās, and ends with sūra 78, al-nabā , as well as the second, i.e. 29th juz which starts with sūra 77, al-mursalat, and ends with sūra 67, al-mulk, RL) and to do ‘qad samiya’ (sic, actually ‘qad sami a’, literally, ‘he has heard’, i.e. he has learned the first two juz and may continue now to memorize the third, i.e. the 28th juz , which starts with sūrat al-tarīm, i.e. sūra 66, and ends with sūrat al-mujādila, i.e. sūra 58. ‘Qad sami a’ consequently also means that somebody has memorized the third juz , RL). By this time the children should be able to read with reasonable fluency. If some individuals are found to be above the standard, special arrangements should be made for them. It is left to the teacher to do what he can, as the necessary treatment of such cases can be organised by a person on the spot. Standard III: in this class children are to start the sūrat al-baqara (sūra 2, and 2nd. juz ). Each will need to have a copy of the Qur ān. (The) five (next) juz are to be covered (starting with the 3rd juz which starts with verse 252 in sūrat al-baqara, and then proceeding ‘from the bottom upwards’, i.e. to the 4th, 5th, 6th juz and the end of the 7th juz , RL). Standard IV: Additional seven juz to be done (i.e. from juz 8 to juz 14). Standard V: Next eight juz to follow (i.e. from juz 15 to juz 22, RL) Standard VI: The muaf to be completed (i.e. the remaining five juz from juz 23 to juz 27 are to be memorized, RL). After explaining the course for teaching the Qur ān, the committee’s report proceeded to give detailed advice on the contents of the teaching of related subjects, such as ‘a kām’, writing and reading, and tajwīd and then dwelled on the subject of diāna: The committee has examined the existing syllabus on Diāna and has found it to be still suitable. The work, however, should start from the Koran class and end in Std. V. If not finished, it should be completed in Std. VI. Otherwise, in this class, our Prophet’s life should be done. Shaykh Abdallāh āli’s book has all the essential information. But again, it is the lessons which can be learnt from the life of our great example that should form the main theme of the lessons. In addition to what is in the syllabus, the significance of yearly Islamic festivals, e.g. maulidi, miraji, īd al-fir etc. should be pointed out, especially to the young children of the Koran class, whenever the time for the colonial period ii: syllabuses and languages 327 their observances comes. Lives of the twenty four prophets should be tackled during the six years of primary education. The Prophets should be discussed in as short a form as possible. The aim of studying about them must be perfectly clean in pupils’ minds. It is to acquaint them with the holy chain of the great teachers of Islam, the opposition they encountered, their perseverance and persistence... Method: Proper methods should be applied in teaching Diāna. It is not sufficient for example to teach a child the idea of performing ablution. He should learn it by doing. The teaching must be based on the children’s own background. It should start from what they have seen or learnt at home. The method should be from known to unknown and from simple to complex. Black-board should be frequently used. Short notes in Swahili in the primary classes should be given. Such notes should be given during the lesson. They are mainly to consist of the improved answers to the questions the teacher asks. The reading from the books suggested in the syllabus, though important, should come only after the previous steps have been gone through. Maulidi: St. III should cover the first four chapters; St. IV should continue with the next five chapters; St. V should go as far as the end of the fourteenth chapter; St. VI to complete the remaining chapters. The teaching of Maulidi should not be very difficult. If a child does well in his Koran, there is no reason why he should be troubled by ‘Maulidi’. Indeed he should be regarded as one who should be able to read anything in Arabic, including Maulidi. Swahili in Arabic script: Parents expect their children to be able to read and write Swahili in Arabic script; and they are not unreasonable in their expectation. Taking this into account, the committee has agreed with Shaykh Rajab in his idea of putting many Swahili words in the cards. As soon as the children begin to write Arabic words they should be given the opportunity of writing Swahili words also. But in so doing the question of some consonants and vowels which are common in Swahili, but are not found in Arabic will have to be faced. Conclusion: It should not be supposed that the committee is asking too much in this. Children leaving our primary school simply cannot afford to know less than what is proposed in this report.To achieve our aim, we do not necessarily need more periods. What may really make the difference is the amount of energy we put in the periods at our disposal. Better approach to the subject and willingness to reach it will produce amazing results. The authority is to devise a means to ensure that an attempt is made in all schools to put these suggestions into practice. Qualified teachers in this subject should visit their neighbouring schools to explain some of the points and to give advice, where it is required. Koran and Diana periods should be so arranged in the time table as to give the impression that the subject is as important as any other. Before going to the class, a ‘qaīda’ may be sung by the whole school, and at the end of the morning each class could finish in the 328 chapter six

same way with a prayer...Examinations on Koran and Diana should be held in the same way as on other subjects in the curriculum. Finally the committee is unanimous in the fact that no adequate Islamic teaching can be acquired without some knowledge of Arabic. Unfortuna- tely all the books which are now in use in our schools, are meant for children whose mother tongue is Arabic, and therefore unsuitable for typical young Zanzibaris. However, at a command from the Honorable Director, the committee will prepare a series of the right type. The report concluded with an overview of the time-table for this new curriculum for standards I-VI. It had a total of 90 teaching periods in primary school (ZNA AD 3/8), not counting Qur ānic classes (Qc):

disciplines Qc Std.I Std.II Std.III Std.IV Std.V Std.VI total

al-Qur ān: 15 10 10 9 4 4 4 41 (56) al-diāna 3 3 3 3 2 1 1 13 (16) al-kha al- arabī 7 2 1 1 1 1 1 7 (14) al-mawlid al-nabī 0 0 0 1 1 1 1 4 (4) lugha arabiyya 5 5 4 4 4 4 4 25 (30)

total 30 20 19 18 12 11 11 90 (120)

The report and the draft syllabus were accepted by the DoE on 17 October 1945, and were about to become the official curriculum for the teaching of the Qur ān and religion in government schools (ZNA AD 3/8), yet the DoE objected that, there is however, one difficulty in bringing your recommendations into practice. Even leaving out the Koran class you have suggested a total of 90 periods weekly from Standard I to VI for religious and allied teaching. This is exactly half the total periods available and, important as I consider these subjects you will realize that this would mean a very serious diminuation in ordinary school work. In fact it would place our children at an even greater disadvantage than they are at present in comparison with those of the mainland. I should, therefore, be glad if you would reconsider the number of periods you consider necessary for the covering of your syllabus and inform me what you consider the necessary minimum (ZNA AD 3/8). In order to solve this question, a new chairman of the ‘Committee on Religious Teaching in Schools’, Muammad Abubakar, was appointed. In a further letter from the committee to the DoE of 12 November 1945 (ZNA AD 3/8; Ziddy 2001: 22), the DoE’s argument the colonial period ii: syllabuses and languages 329 that the syllabus contained too many teaching periods (‘hours’) for the teaching of the Qur ān and religion, was accepted. The syllabus was accordingly amended by reducing the number of teaching periods for these subjects to 66. Also, a new draft syllabus was presented which considered the changes in the number of periods in the Qur ān Class (Qc) and Standards I-VI:

disciplines Qc std 1 std 2 std 3 std 4 std 5 std 6 total

al-Qur ān 15 11 10 8 5 5 5 44 (59) al-diāna 2 1111116 (8) al-kha al- arabī 7 1100002 (9) al-mawlid al-nabī 0 0011114 (4) lugha arabiyya 2 22221110 (12)

total 26 15 14 12 9 8 8 66 (90)

After being accepted by the scholars and the DoE, the new syllabus was sent to other British colonies and even adopted by some of them, such as Tanganyika and The Gambia. Brunei and Malaysia showed their interest (Ziddy 2001: 22) and the Principal of the Muslim Teacher Training Centre in Kasawo, Kampala (Uganda), asked for a copy of the syllabus, which was sent to him by the DoE, Hill, on 22 May 1950, with an English translation (ZNA AD 3/8). An interesting didactic feature of the 1945 syllabus were the ‘Arabic cards’ or biāqāt arabiyya, a teaching method imported from Sudan which was seen by the British as a major and important didactic method in the teaching of languages, especially regarding the memorization of words (IC27, 7.8.2002). The teaching of Arabic in the new syllabus was based on the use of these biāqāt arabiyya, the blackboard and the textbooks mentioned above (Ziddy 2001: 22). On 8 April 1946, the DoE also asked the committee whether the risālat al-jāmia (only now did the British stop calling this text ‘risālat al-tawīd’) and Aya Zilizochaguliwa katika Kuraani Takatifu kwa sababu ya kutumiwa katika vyuo vya Unguja would still fit into the new syllabus or whether they had proposals for improvement. In addition, the committee was asked to discuss a treatise by Abdallāh āli al-Farsy, Maisha ya nabii Mu ammad (The Life of the Prophet Muammad). On 25 May 1946, the committee responded that Aya za Kuran was found unsuitable for future use in government schools: 330 chapter six the print was very small, the Arabic text had no diacritical marks on it, the kind of Swahili used in the text was not the type ‘we would like our children to read’. Also, some of the ideas were ‘too high’ for primary school children and a number of issues were of greater concern for parents than for children. The ‘Risalatul-Jamia’, by contrast, was still found to be useful. Hence the committee felt that it should remain part of the syllabus. However, the Swahili should be improved and the arakāt of the Arabic text should be inserted. The committee also stated that Maisha ya nabii Mu ammad by Abdallāh āli al- Farsy was a book that ‘our schools cannot afford to go without. Unfortunately it is out of print. Would the authorities be so kind as to see that it is reprinted, please?’ (ZNA AD 3/8). While the 1945/1946 reforms seem to have resolved the problem of the religious studies syllabus in government schools, the issue of the language of instruction remained a bone of contention between British authorities and local groups. In a letter of 31 August 1946 (with copy to Sa īd b. Alī al-Mughayrī and Sālim b. Alī b. Amūr al-Miskirī from Pemba) the Arab Association again demanded that Arabic and not Kiswahili should be primarily taught in schools. The ADoE answered this letter on 14 September 1946 as follows: ‘The demand for the teaching of the Arabic language reminds me of Oliver Twist! But government has already given an assurance in Legislative Council that the Arabic language will be taught wherever and whenever conditions will permit’ (ZNA AB 12/28). On 24 February 1947, the DoE in a letter to the Chief Secretary of the protectorate administration gave another overview of the situation of the teaching of Arabic at government primary schools in Zanzibar, and reacted against protests that the government school syllabus did not provide enough time for the teaching of Arabic, Koran and religious instruction. His note said that, Arabic is taught in one form or another in all classes in all schools, in the ‘A’ classes of the Government Primary School Zanzibar Town, from Sts. 1 to 6, 7 periods a week are allotted to Arabic while in the ‘B’ classes it varies between 5 and 3. In the Junior Secondary Classes, i.e. Sts. VII and VIII there are six periods per week. These periods do not include ‘Religion’ and ‘Koran’ each of which has periods apart from the teaching of the Arabic language itself. For instance, St. II has 7 Arabic language periods, plus 8 Koran periods plus 1 period for Reli- gion, i.e. 16 periods in a week out of 29 periods. This represents some 55% of the time devoted to school periods each week. From St. IV the Koran periods are reduced to 2 periods per week, but the 1 period for the colonial period ii: syllabuses and languages 331

Religion is retained. This means that in Sts. IV and V there are 7 plus 2 plus 1 periods a week in which Arabic may be taught. In Standard VI there are 7 plus 1 plus 1 periods while in Standards VII and VIII there are six periods. It will be observed that as the boys go higher up in the school the amount of time devoted to Arabic is reduced. The reason is twofold: 1. Many of the boys have already ‘hitimued’ 2. Provision has to be made for the teaching of more subjects. In the TTS Dole, 6 periods are given to Arabic and Religion, while English and Arithmetic have only 5 each. In the District Schools some 34% of the time is devoted to Arabic, Religion etc. (ZNA AB 1/390). In a letter of 9 May 1949 to the Chief Secretary the issue of language education was addressed again by the DoE: ‘You are, I think, aware of the fact that there is a considerable demand among the local people for more and better Arabic teaching in our schools. I understand that my predecessor gave an undertaking that the Arabic Syllabuses would be revised on the return to the Protectorate of Sh. Amor Ali Ameir. This revision has now been completed in respect of the Primary Schools and I propose that the Secondary School Arabic Syllabus shall be similarly revised by Said Hilal Buali and Muhanna Nassor on the return of the former from England’ (ZNA AB 1/390). In 1950, the colonial administration eventually announced the establishment of an examination board concerning the new Arabic examination. The DoE suggested appointing Shariff (sic) Umar (b.) Amad (b. Sumay) as president of the examination board and Abdallāh āli al-Farsy as well as Muammad Alī Mgeni (B221) as additional members. These suggestions were approved of by the Chief Secretary on 25 July 1950 and a respective letter was sent to Umar b. Sumay.6 However, in a letter to the British Resident of 14 August 1953, a British administrative officer, Scott, maintained that Kiswahili and not Arabic was the language of communication. To strengthen the role of Arabic would be a sign of not being in touch with reality, as the Arabs living in Zanzibar formed a minority of only 17% of the population, and only 10% of them ‘can speak or write Arabic with any ease or accuracy and its introduction as a general medium of expression would be impracticable even if it were desirable’ (PRO

6 This letter read: ‘Sir, I am directed to inform you that his Excellency has been pleased to appoint you President of a Board to advise on the syllabus and standard for the Government Arabic Language Examination under general Order no. 326(1). The other members of the Board are Sheikh Abdullah Saleh Farsy and Sheikh Muhammed Ali Mgeni’ (ZNA AB 1/428). 332 chapter six

CO 822/208). Anxieties with respect to language development were well founded, as the British administration started in the 1950s to standardize Kiswahili by preparing a glossary of everyday, recurrent terms and ensuring that translators stuck to it, since the latter often preferred their ‘own bright ideas to the tedium of uniformity’. As a second step, the long-term aim was to build up a gradually increasing corpus of terms (note cooperative development office, Zanzibar, 22.8.1955). In a minute dated 5 September 1955, the DeptoE said: ‘this is a task which should be undertaken by the inter-territorial language committee’. The problem was that the inter-territorial language committee included missionaries. Their presence was resented by Muslim scholars who thought that the colonial administration wanted to change the meaning of Swahili words into ‘Christian’ meanings through the influence of missionaries in official commissions. Still, a first list of technical terms was drawn up in 1955 (ZNA AB 1/246). Discussions about the role of language thus continued in the 1940s and 1950s, in particular with respect to the teaching of Arabic. A letter from the DeptoE of 30 October 1959 to the Chief Secretary presented the situation as far as Arabic was concerned with respect to ‘Cambridge School Certificate Examinations’ (ZNA AD 14/12). The respective data showed that only few boys and girls had studied Arabic as a second language in secondary schools the last three years, namely four (three boys, one girls in 1956), nine (4/5) in 1957 and three (3/0) in 1958 (ZNA AD 14/12). However, not a single student passed the General Certificate of Education in Arabic (GCEA) in 1956, while two (2/0) were successful in 1957 and two (1/1) in 1958. At the same time, two students (1/1) passed the Cambridge School Certificate Examination (CSCE) in 1956, five (3/2) in 1957 and one (1/0) in 1958. Despite governmental support for Arabic since the late 1930s, the teaching of the language seems to have become largely dormant due to lack of students by the late 1950s, while both English and Kiswahili had de facto become the languages of instruction and communication. Even before independence, Arabic had thus largely lost the ‘language war’. Only shortly before independence was the role of Arabic discussed again, and these debates now showed support for Kiswahili among Zanzibaris. A letter by Amūr Alī Ameir (see chapter 7.2.) to the Permanent Secretary and to the DoE, Hann, of 13 February 1963 thus revealed that, on the special request of the Minister of Education, an enquiry on the language issue had been the colonial period ii: syllabuses and languages 333 conducted by Bibi Samīra and Mr. Tejani. Their task had been to review the teaching of Arabic in Zanzibar’s schools and to make suggestions, especially with respect to the question of how to make use of teachers of Arabic if such teachers became available from Egypt (ZNA AD 39/15). The DoE mentioned that he had held a preliminary meeting with Bibi Samīra and Mr. Tejani on the issue. Their position, as stated in the meeting with the DoE, was: 1. The biggest problem is the problem of teachers. There is a sad pau- city of teachers who can teach Arabic throughout the primary school. 2. Syllabus: The present syllabus followed in the primary schools was prepared by Bibi Samira for the first year, followed by the ‘al-Jadid’ series. These books by themselves are not suitable as they were not originally intended for people whose mother tongue is not Arabic. 3. Method: The method of teaching Arabic in our schools must take into account our aims in teaching Arabic. Do we want to teach Arabic for functional or cultural reasons or both. We have to decide on the place of spoken Arabic in our curriculum. 4. Training of teachers: Staff is needed for the training of teachers and for supervision of Arabic teaching in primary schools (ZNA AD 39/15). Solutions for the issues involved were, amongst others, to employ ex-Muslim Academy students trained at the TTC to teach Arabic in primary schools.7 Unfortunately, no girls had been trained at the

7 In 1959, the ‘Diāna’ syllabus (V) of the Teacher Training College had acquired the following form: a. For the teaching of Arabic in Standard VII and VIII: al-arabiyya al-ma būba, Books 1, 2, 3 as well as na w al-wā i , book 1. b. For the teaching of religion (diāna) in Standard VII und VII: selected short sūras for saying the prayers (as translated by Abdallāh āli al-Farsy, RL), as well as selected sayings of the Prophet Muammad by the Dole Staff, the above to be taught in the class. c. The following items were to be taught in the mosque: Ibā ī: talqīn al-subyan from the maqad al-awwal to awwal al-zakāt; Sunni: risāla (al-jāmi a), safīna (al-najā ), ‘babu’ (irshād al-muslimīn) and durar al- bahiyya. d. For the teaching of Arabic in class 1 of the Teachers Training College (TT1) the syllabus focused on qirāat al-rashad I and na w al-wā i book II. e. In TT2 the programme for the teaching of Arabic was to complete the qirāat al- rashad method of teaching primary Arabic for Standard II to Standard III (Sh. Amur Arabic Syllabus for Standard II upwards), whereas in TT3 the Arabic syllabus was directed towards the ‘Method for teaching primary Arabic work from Standard IV to Standard VI’. f. In Diana in TT1 und TT2 the programme for the Ibā īs was: talqīn al-subyan from ‘awwal al-zakāt’ to cover and some passages from books preferred by the teacher, 334 chapter six

Muslim Academy so far. Also there was no teacher on the staff of the TTC qualified to train teachers of Arabic who could supervise the teaching of Arabic in the schools. In the long term, new text books were needed for the teaching of Arabic: Also, we should consider whether the present syllabus which is followed in the secondary schools is in accordance with our aspirations that are presently dictated by the demands of the Cambridge School Certificate Examination. Presently, Arabic is taught at the King George VI school by Mr. Tejani and Bibi Zaynab Himidi at the Sayyida Matuka School (when she comes back from England). Also, two Egyptian teachers have been loaned by the Egyptian government on a no-cost basis to the Education Society of Zanzibar. Both of these teachers would be suitable to teach Arabic in the TTC as well as the Secondary Schools (signed A.A. Ameir; ZNA AD 14/12). After these conclusions a number of suggestions were made, ex- Muslim Academy students trained at the TTC should, for instance, teach Arabic in primary schools. With respect to methods, the report concluded: ‘Zanzibar will never become an Arabic speaking country. Swahili has been and will always be the first language of the people’ (ZNA AD 14/12). Apart from the issue of the syllabus and the on-going debate about the language of instruction, other issues were also addressed by colonial education policies from time to time. Paramount among these were questions of absenteeism and other social issues, as well as school finances. On 23 October 1952, another committee to investigate ‘African education’ in the Protectorate was formed, which initially included the DoE, Hann, and the Inspector of Schools, Abdallāh āli al-Farsy, as well as Alī Musin al-Barwānī as named by the AA, equally three African members, namely Rashid Mbarouk and Christabella S. Majaliwa as named by the AfA and Amour Ahmed as named by the SA.8 The first meeting of the committee took place whereas the Sunnis were supposed to read ‘safīna’, durar al-bahiyya and hidāyat al-afāl. g. In TT3 the syllabus covered: I) method of teaching diāna in Primary Schools (Diāna syllabus of 1947 and 1952), II) tajwīd (hidāyat al-mustafīd, theory and practice), III) mawlid Barzanjī (reading only), IV) method of knowing Koran in Koran classes (ZNA AD 1/34). 8 On 9 January 1953, the committee had been enlarged by Muyī al-Dīn Alī (Shirazi), Kassim Abdul Hafiz (Shirazi) and Abeid Amani Karume (African), Mtumwa Borafia (African) and Abdallāh Muammad al-a ramī (Arab), who replaced Alī Musin al-Barwānī. Equally, Ameir Tajo replaced Amour Ahmed. In addition, the Senior Women’s Education Officer and the Education Officer for the colonial period ii: syllabuses and languages 335 on 14 January 1953.9 The problems discussed included wastage, apathy and early marriage in primary schools, the small number of Africans in secondary schools, and absenteeism. In 1954 the committee visited schools in Makunduchi, Uzini and Mkwajuni and discussed the problem of ‘school-leavers’ (ZNA AD 3/27). The next meeting on 6 February 1954 in the Sir Euan Smith Madrasa recognized the small percentage of African students, 60% in government primary schools and only 12% in secondary schools in 1952, and even less, namely 8%, in 1953. Indian students, by contrast, were characterized by a high rate of school attendance. The communiqué of the third meeting on 25 February 1954 again pointed out the ‘Koran’ teacher as a culprit: Several members said that Koran teachers consider the Government schools their rivals, and because their earnings depended on the number of pupils they could get, they tended to work against the government. Sh. Abdullah Said al-Kharousi said that he often investigated complaints of Headmasters against Koran teachers and that there was a general belief in the villages especially among the women that true Koranic teaching was not given in the Government schools that the teaching was different and inferior. Some Koran teachers persuaded a parent to leave his sons at the Koran school. The idea had been adopted in 1949 of employing an influential Koran teacher in every Government school who was a popular local choice, but Sh. Amor Ali thought that this had not helped very much. There were often two or three other influential teachers in the same village who worked against the Government Koran teachers and though the latter was chosen by the people themselves there were often ulterior motives in his election. The man who was elected was often not the most powerful but the one most easily influenced by his community (ZNA AD 3/27).

Pemba joined. This composition gave the committee an African-Shirazi majority, ‘as requested by the Honorable Ameri Tajo (DoE)’. On 22 January 1954, Abdallāh Sa īd al-Kharūī and the District Commissioner joined the committee and reestablished the African-Shirazi-Arab balance of two representatives from each group. 9 On 8 February 1954, Abeid Amani Karume sent a letter to the Committee (ZNA AD 3/27): ‘Sir, I was very pleased to receive your invitation on 6th February 1954 inviting me to work on this above committee. African education is a thing which is always in my mind. To be given the opportunity to work in a committee to look after the African education is a thing I accept with open arms’. However, Karume never showed up at the further meetings of the committee, which took place on 30 March, 4 May, 11 May, 13 August and 30 September 1954 (ZNA AD 3/27). 336 chapter six

In 1959, yet another committee on education10 congregated and wrote a report on the policy of education in Zanzibar for the period 1958-1960, considering twenty memoranda by, amongst others, the ZNP, the Indian Association and the Arab Association, the DoE, Amūr Alī Ameir, the Young Muslim League, Mrs. Farouk and M. Topan; also, the committee heard 86 witnesses and held baraza meetings in several places in Zanzibar and Pemba. After declaring that ‘Zanzibar was still predominantly agricultural’, the report stated that education had to take account of this as primary education was still not yet available for many children. After these introductory remarks, the 90-page report gave a general overview of all kinds of aspects of the development of education in Zanzibar, also focusing on financial problems as far as the further development of education was concerned. Perspectives of the expansion of existing educational facilities were described as ‘depressing’. Earlier development plans were quoted and the development of primary and secondary schools as well as that of the Muslim Academy were discussed. Finally, the report maintained that the time devoted to religious education was ‘adequate’, that a few more secular subjects should be introduced into the Koran classes, that entry to Koran classes should be at five years, to Standard I at six years and that the emphasis of development ‘must be in primary education’ (PRO CO 822/1606). The 1959 ‘Report of the Commission on Education’ also reproduced the government primary and secondary school curriculum for 1960 (ZNA BA 6/22, see appendix V). On 15 March 1963, another meeting of the Zanzibar education advisory committee took place in the council chamber in the bayt al-ajā ib.11 The issue was the expansion of primary school education and, at the same time, the reduction of the number of teaching periods from 35 to 23 per week, in order to enable the expansion of educational facilities. The advisory committee was also asked to look into possibility of reorganizing educational structures and to see what problems could arise in the future. The horizon for

10 Members were the Chairman P.A.P. Robertson, the Acting Resident, the DoE, Hann, Ameir Tajo, V.S. Patel, Abeid Amani Karume, Mohammed Shamte Hamadi, Shaaban Sudi Mponda, Muammad Sulaymān al-Ma ūlī, Alī Abd al-Ramān Bā Alawī, M.A. Saleh, Ibuni Saleh, Bibi Samīra Sālim Sayf al-Ma āmirī, Hilāl Muammad Hilāl al-Barwānī and, as secretary, G.F.M. Woodland. 11 Present were the DoE, Mr. Ghulamhusein Ismā īl, Amūr Alī Ameir, Father Farelly, Abdallāh Farhān, Abd al-Ramān Muammad, imīd Mbeye, the Senior Women’s Education Officer as well as Muammad Khamīs Abdallāh. the colonial period ii: syllabuses and languages 337 planning was the year 1970. With the revolution of 12 January 1964, these plans became obsolete. The struggle for hegemony in education is expressed most clearly in the struggle over the syllabus and the language of instruction, as has been shown in this chapter. Again, a number of stages can be distinguished and linked with stages of school development and generations of teachers (see chapter 7). The first period lasted, up to the early 1920s and was characterized by rejection of the Qur ānic schools and their ‘syllabus’ of religious learning, which was discredited as ‘parrot talk’. Between the 1920s and the late 1930s, Zanzibar then saw the efforts of the British to ‘domesticate’ an Islamic syllabus of ‘diāna’ (religious studies) by asking religious scholars to participate in the drafting of a syllabus within a framework defined by the British. This led to the reformed syllabuses of 1924 and 1931 which were not accepted by a majority of religious scholars because they still failed to recognize the Qur ānic schools and their teachers as a major pillar of education in Zanzibar. Qur ān school teachers in fact viewed the first diāna syllabuses of 1924 and 1931 as an even greater threat to their social and political role than the previous government schools, as these syllabuses tried to provide government schools with greater religious legitimacy, while at the same time disputing the social role of the Qur ānic schools. The integration of the Qur ānic schools and their teachers from the late 1930s, however, led, in 1945, to yet another syllabus which was now largely defined by Zanzibari religious scholars within frame conditions that recognized the Qur ānic schools and their teachers. The success of the government schools from 1945 was thus built on the integration of three pillars of Islamic education: the syllabus, the Qur ānic school as an institution, as well as the official recognition of the Qur ān school teachers as mediators of knowledge. As soon as the Qur ān school teachers were integrated into the government schools system, their resistance against the government schools and their syllabus weakened. The increasing acceptance of the government school diāna syllabus also meant, however, that Islamic education, as defined and mediated by Muslim religious scholars, was now conceived of as a part of the formal structure of the British colonial education system: while the Qur ān was taught in the early morning, students would play football and learn English in the late morning or afternoon. The ocean of knowledge that characterized Islamic education was now turned into objectified school (and examination) knowledge that was no longer 338 chapter six defined by charismatic religious scholars but by the ‘Cambridge Overseas Examination’ standards and rules. This development was achieved by a body of Zanzibari teachers, who in the colonial period increasingly identified themselves with the concepts of the government school. Their trajectories will be discussed in the following chapter. the colonial period III: teachers 339

CHAPTER SEVEN

THE POLITICS OF EDUCATION IN THE COLONIAL PERIOD III: TEACHERS

7.1. Development of Staff, Recruitment and Training

While the development of government schools and the negotiation of syllabuses and languages preoccupied the Protectorate administration until independence, other issues, such as teacher training, staff recruitment and a plethora of personal disputes among teachers and administrators kept the British busy as well. The training of teachers and the role of indigenous teachers in the colonial educational hierarchy was a major issue of colonial discourse and files were full of complaints about salaries, the unequal treatment of local employees and discussion of benefits, such as allowances for outfit, transport, leave, travelling, training, baggage, housing, subsistence, advances, rent, passages, sabbaticals or separations. Also, complaints about the quality of teaching continued well into the late 1950s. A ‘report on the present situation regarding the education of Africans in the Protectorate’ written for the Legislative Council in 1955 (PRO CO 822/1820) thus mentioned that Qur ān teachers still tried to prevent parents from sending their children to government schools and that Qur ān teachers at government schools should undergo regular refresher courses and be subject to strict supervision as far as the standards of religious teaching were concerned. At the same time, an elite of teachers, united by a corporate spirit of having undergone the same education, was formed at the Teacher Training College (TTC), and the Protectorate administration, after having accepted to develop secondary school education in the 1930s, started to send students abroad in increasing numbers (see below and the list of Makerere students in the appendix II g). While the development of teacher training and staff recruitment are discussed in a first section of this chapter, the second section focuses on the relationship among teachers, both English and local, and presents major themes in respect of colonial careers through a number of case studies. In sections 7.3. and 7.4. two of Zanzibar’s best known scholars and colonial 340 chapter seven teachers, Abdallāh āli al-Farsy and Sayyid Umar Abdallāh will finally be presented in order to show how Zanzibari scholars negotiated their position within the Protectorate administration and how changes in the educational system affected the colonial and post- colonial careers of teachers and scholars. When looking at the staff of the DeptoE in terms of institutional history, the first Directors of Education (DoE) could look back on comparatively long periods of service: both Rivers-Smith (from 1907-20, BD 232) and Hendry, the second DoE (1921-1937, BD 209), held office for an extremely long period of time, although Hendry’s service was interrupted by Ingrams’ (B213) term of office as AdoE in 1924, as well as a number of absences due to leave, when G.B. Johnson or Lawrence W. Hollingsworth (see below) acted as ADoE. These long terms of office turned out to be of decisive importance for the development of British educational policies in the 1920s and 1930s as they provided institutional continuity. At the same time, preconceived ideas concerning ‘the right path’ of education blocked reforms for a long time (see chapter 6). In the 1940s and 1950s, the situation changed completely, however, and there was a quick succession of DoEs, such as R. S. Foster from 1939-1943, while G.B. Johnson acted as ADoE in 1939. L.W. Hollingsworth and G.C. Grant assumed this function in 1943, to be followed by P.E. Williams (1943-1944), R.J. Harvey (1944-1948), G.C. Grant (ADoE, 1948), K.B. Hill (1949-1950), B. A. Babb (1951-1953, with Hann as ADoE in 1950/51 and 1953), R.B. Blaxland (1953-1956, with S.F. Hann again as ADoE in 1954) and S.F. Hann (1956-1964; Webber and Greig acting as ADoEs over the years; see the biographical dictionary and the appendix II d). Only S.F. Hann had a comparatively long term of office, although his power to influence educational policies had been greatly reduced by this time, due to changes in education policies, especially the fact that the colonial service was employing an increasing number of Zanzibaris who had a growing influence in the department of education and its policies. Taking a closer look at the development of staff, particular growth can be recorded for the time after WWII. While the number of employees (teachers and administration) had not been more than three in 1905 and less than ten in 1920, a considerable increase in numbers of teaching staff in the DeptoE (including female teachers, in brackets), as well as administrative and technical staff, may be observed from the mid-1920s (technical staff is not considered here, but a majority was recruited locally) and the late 1940s: the colonial period III: teachers 341

year no. of staff no. of teachers no. of Qur ān teachers total 1908 1 4 - 6 1910 1 13 - 14 1913 1 9 - 10 1926 6 52 - 58 1927 4 56 - 56 1928 7 58 - 65 1929 6 65 - 71 1930 4 65 - 69 1931 6 73 - 79 1932 6 107 - 113 1935 6 107 (17) - 113 1936 7 112 - 118 1939 6 110 (21) - 117 1940 2 110 (21) 2 114 1943 2 110 28 140 1955 27 365 60 (7) 452 1956 29 405 75 (7) 509 1957 35 431 75 (7) 541 1958 - - 70 (6) - 1960 - - 74 (7) - 1961 - - 64 - 1963 - 775 52 -

The 1958-60 triennial report gave an even more detailed overview of positions in the DeptoE between 1955 and 1957:

positions 1955 1956 1957 education officers 27 29 35 graduate teachers 13 13 13 teachers with post-ss training 11 12 14 primary school teachers 341 380 404 Qur ān teachers 60 75 75 total 452 509 541

The annual reports on education also provide some data on the composition of the staff. In 1926, for instance, the teaching staff consisted of six Europeans, one Egyptian, seven Indians, 22 Arabs and 342 chapter seven

22 Africans. The non-European staff was allocated to the TTC (2), the GCS (9), the Commercial School (1), and the elementary schools (38). In 1927, the teaching staff of the DeptoE was one Egyptian, four Europeans, seven Indians, 24 Arabs and 20 Africans. In 1928, most of the teachers (21) worked at the GCS, while 33 were employed in the District Schools, three at the TTC and one at the Commercial School. At the same time, the majority of teachers trained at the TTC were Arab (20), while two were Mhadimu, five Swahili, four Comorian, three Indian and one Persian. In 1932, the European employees of the DeptoE in Zanzibar were, apart from the DoE, Hendry: the Chief Inspector of Schools, G.B. Johnson; the Headmaster of the TTC, L.W. Hollingsworth; A.A. Ducket, the Superintendent of Industries; G.R. Johnson, the Superintendent of Female Education, and L.A.C. Buchanan, the Supervisor of Education (PRO CO 688/9). Whereas the staff in the DeptoE shrank considerably during WWII, it grew fast after the war was over, as has been mentioned above. In 1955, the DeptoE had grown to a staff of 533 persons: 32 officers, 20 clerks, 341 teachers on establishment, 60 Qur ān teachers, one supervisor for the girls’ hostel, four matrons, five technical instructors, 56 schools servants and 14 other staff (ZNA AB 1/195). The respective lists (see appendix II e and biographical dictionary) reveal that most local teachers active in schools in the 1950s were hired after 1945 (ZNA AB 1/195), while a considerable number had been hired in the early 1920s:

year of hire no. year of hire no. year of hire no. 1905 1 1925 1 1947 1 1908 2 1929 2 1948 1 1909 1 1930 1 1949 3 1910 1 1931 1 1951 3 1912 1 1932 3 1952 4 1916 1 1933 3 1954 3 1917 1 1934 2 1955 2 1918 2 1935 1 1956 3 1919 1 1936 1 1957 3 1920 1 1940 1 1960 7 1921 13 1944 1 1961 2 1922 7 1945 4 1962 2 1923 2 1946 1 1963 1 the colonial period III: teachers 343

In order to put teacher training on a sound basis, a Teacher Training College (TTC) had been established in connection with the GCS in Vuga in June 1923. The first principal was L. W. Hollingsworth (see below and chapter 5) and the first seven students were of Arab (2), Persian (1), Indian (3) and Comorian (1) origin. Complaints about the poor quality of local teachers and Qur ān teachers in government schools explain sustained efforts in the late colonial period to improve teacher training at the TTC and to recruit teachers abroad. A letter by the ADoE of 20 October 1948 to the Chief Secretary thus responded to complaints from the Shirazi Association about the quality of teachers. The ADoE agreed that the standard was lower for those trained now (i.e. 1948) as compared with those teachers trained before 1935 (when the TTC was closed). Prior to 1935, teacher training courses took three years, while nowadays they took two years; currently, teachers were trained to teach up to Standard IV, as those for higher classes would come from Makerere; prior to 1935, ‘many of the best young men in our schools entered the teaching profession whereas nowadays they go on to the secondary school (as opened in 1935) and possibly to Makerere at a later date’. Also, salaries and allowances for students in training were higher then (ZNA AB 12/2). The work of the TTC not only led to a rising professionalization of the teaching staff, but also to an increasing bureaucratization of teacher training as well as staff management, as expressed, for instance, in increasingly formal annual reports on each teacher in his or her personal file (see samples below), but also in forms that every candidate for teacher training courses had to sign: Agreement made this (date) between the British Resident, Zanzibar Protectorate, acting on behalf of the Zanzibar Government and (name): The candidate for training, in consideration of the privilege of being trained as a teacher, and of receiving free board and lodging and pocket money at sh. 5 per month during the term time undertakes he will: 1. Serve as a teacher in any government school or schools in the Zan- zibar Protectorate for a period of years not less than that during which he has been in training. 2. Accept the conditions laid down by the Government for the employment of staff. 3. Study throughout the course prescribed by the government of the TTC. 4. In the event of his failing to complete the course for any reason except ill-health or such social reasons as may be judged by the 344 chapter seven

Chief Secretary to the Government to be adequate, he shall be held liable to repay to Government...a sum equivalent to the cost incur- red in maintaining him at the TTC (ZNA AB 1/195). Despite debates on the recruitment of teachers from India, Hadramaut, Sudan or Egypt, only few teachers were hired abroad before 1945 (ZNA AB 1/195), although complaints about the scarcity of teachers persisted. In 1947, the annual report claimed that ‘the department suffered a considerable loss through the retirement owing to ill- health of Sh. Rajab Himid, one of the most senior head teachers who had worked Makunduchi school up to be the largest primary village school in the Protectorate’ (ZNA BA 5/17). The problem of Arabic teaching and teacher training bothered the Protectorate administration repeatedly. In a dispatch of the DoE, Blaxland, of 21 August 1954, to the Chief Secretary (ZNA AB 1/445), a number of measures were proposed to improve the standard of teaching of Arabic in Zanzibar. Among these was the idea of sending a man and woman teacher to Somaliland to study the methods used for teaching Arabic there, to send a teacher to an Arab country to brush up his Arabic, to conduct temporary special short courses locally to train at least one teacher for each primary school, and the idea that the Muslim Academy should become a training college for teachers of Arabic and Islamics. As far as the dispatch of a teacher to Somaliland was concerned, the DoE proposed to send Abdallāh āli al-Farsy, the Supervisory Teacher for Religious and Arabic Teaching, to Somaliland for two months and to send him thereafter to Aden and Hadramaut for two months ‘to brush up his Arabic’. Also special courses were to be arranged at a convenient centre under the direction of Abdallāh āli al-Farsy. In a letter to the Chief Secretary of 6 October 1955, the DoE, Blaxland, reported that the suggestions made had been implemented as far as possible. Thus, Abdallāh āli al-Farsy had made his journey to Somaliland and ‘he is now training primary teachers on short courses to teach the revised Arabic syllabus’, also, ‘the courses to be run at the Muslim Academy are being considered’ (ZNA AB 1/445). For the recruitment of teachers, other Islamic countries such as Irak and Sudan were considered as well. Amūr Alī Ameir (see below), thus travelled to Sudan on 12 March 1958, stayed for two weeks and interviewed a group of fifteen candidates for jobs in Zanzibar. However, he reported on 1 April 1958 that he considered the general standard of the applicants ‘rather below our expectations’ the colonial period III: teachers 345

(ZNA AB 1/460). Only a small part of the original group of fifteen candidates was eventually invited to come to Zanzibar to take up jobs, namely, al-Tijānī al-iddīq Abbās, Khalīl Mursī asan, Amad Mamūd Ashīr and Abd al-amīd Muammad Amīn al- Abassī. They were supposed to start work by mid-1958 (ZNA AB 1/460). However, this recruitment campaign failed and in a letter of 4 November 1958, the DoE told the Chief Secretary: ‘The recruitment of teachers of Arabic from the Sudan has not been very successful. Out of four likely candidates, only one (Amad Mamūd Ashīr, who had studied in Egypt) has accepted appointment’. Eventually, two Hadramis were recruited, namely Amad b. Zayn Balfaqīh and Amad b. Hārūn b. Shihāb. They arrived in Zanzibar from Aden on 5 October 1959 (ZNA AB 1/467) and were employed in the teaching of Arabic at the TTC and the Government Arabic Primary School. Both had been headmasters of the Tarīm Primary School and had been singled out by Sayyid Umar Abdallāh as well as Umar b. Sumay in the context of respective visits to Hadramaut in 1958 (ZNA AD 1/170). In order to improve teacher training, exchange programs were discussed as well, including the idea of sending teachers from Zanzibar to places such as the Trucial States in the Gulf: ‘The Trucial States have a population of over 90,000 people but, being desperately poor, until recently had virtually no educational facilities’ (ZNA AB 1/203). A respective query from the Trucial State Authorities was rejected unanimously, however, by the Zanzibari authorities as there was a shortage of teachers in Zanzibar. In order to solve the problem of qualified personnel for the colonial service, the British Protectorate administration eventually started to send Zanzibaris for studies abroad. The first Zanzibari, Mafūdh Bingurnah (B34), was sent to Makerere in 1929 (Makerere College Register, 1922-1953, ZNA BE 31/1; see also appendix II g). In the 1930s, the number of Zanzibari students at Makerere grew consistently.1 From 1944, the administration

1 In 1936/1937, Alī Musin al-Barwānī was sent to Makerere, accompanied by Amad Rashīd, Othman Sharif and Alī Khamīs. In 1939, Muammad Nāir abshī, Sayyid Umar Abdallāh, Sulaymān Sa īd, Abd al-Razāq Abd al-Wadūd, Zubayr Rijāl, Kingwaba assan, Abd al-Rasūl Khahoo, Muammad Ghassan and Muammad Alī Awadh followed; later came Aboud Jumbe, Amad Aydarūs Bā Alawī and others (al-Barwānī 1996: 69). In 1938, Muammad S.H. al-Barwānī was the first student to be sent on a government scholarship to Britain (al-Farsy 1955/80: 30). He had to come back in 1940, but returned to Britain in 1945 and obtained a B.A. in Education in 1947. The first female student, Bibi Asha Shariff, was sent to 346 chapter seven started to send students to SOAS on government grants2 and from 1959, Zanzibar also sent students to the Sudan, where they studied Islamic knowledge, pedagogy, and Arabic. Among these students were Mawlid Mshanghana, a Comorian scholar and the director of the department of information before the revolution, as well as Zaynab Burhān. By 1963, two students had equally been sent to Pakistan, two to Saudi Arabia and one to Iraq (ZNA BA 5/32). As a result of these efforts, the number of local teachers increased rapidly in the late colonial period. At the same time, teacher training acquired a political connotation. In a letter of 23 June 1961 to the Bureau for Islamic Relations, affiliated to the ministry of awqāf in Egypt, Alī Musin al-Barwānī asked for the transfer of five teachers to the Muslim Academy (PRO CO 822/2646), despite British misgivings about ties with Egypt, as manifested, for instance, in the discussion over Egyptian scholarships for students from Zanzibar in 1958. The political character of this question was mirrored in the search for an ‘Ibā ī’ teacher for the Muslim Academy in 1960.

7.2. Colonial Teachers I: Between Snubbery and Snobbery

The relationship between indigenous teachers and the British colonial administration was not always a bed of roses or marked by congenial partnerships as between L.W. Hollingsworth and his assistants Amad Sayf al-Kharūī (B95) and Juma Aley (B7). Relations among

Makerere in 1947 (al-Farsī 1955/80: 35). In 1953, the Makerere group from Zanzibar included Sulaymān Jābir al-Farsī, Abd al-akīm āli Yayā, Khamīs asan Amīr and Muammad Khamīs Abdallāh (ZNA AB 1/408). 2 The first was Juma Aley (1944-46). In 1947, Sa īd b. Hilāl al-Barwānī followed. In 1949, Muammad Salīm al-Barwānī and Amūr Alī Ameir were sent to Oxford for teacher training courses. By October 1958, 232 students had gone to England: three in 1948, none from 1949-51, but twelve in 1952, among them A.M.Lamkī and A.R.A. al-Barwānī. In 1953, eight students went, among them S.M.A.Riyāmī and H.M.N.Lamkī. There were nine in 1954, among them S.M.S.Lamkī and M.S.A.Riyāmī, and 34 in 1955, including A.A.S.Farsy and Dr. Fatma Lamki. In 1956, this number rose to 43, among them Riyāmī, Ma āmirī and Barwānī family members as well as Amūr Alī Ameir, O.A. Sameja, J.M.Shariff and Muammad Abeid al-ājj. In 1956, four students returned to Zanzibar (ZNA AB 1/176): Abdallāh Muammad Abdallāh, Ali Hassan Mwinyi, Bibi Assiah Jabia and Bibi Khadīja Muammad Sharīf. In 1956, 100 students were in the UK, 13 were private and non-sponsored, 63 private and sponsored, 22 on scholarships and two were government service trainees. In 1957, their number had grown to 117. In 1957, 49 and in 1958, 74 students studied medicine, law, civil engineering, agriculture, architecture, accountancy, nursing and pharmacy in the UK (ZNA AD 3/30, BA 5/19; PRO CO 688/31). the colonial period III: teachers 347 teachers as well as relations with the administration were repeatedly disturbed by seemingly arbitrary bureaucratic decisions. As a consequence, local teachers, who viewed themselves as Zanzibar’s intellectual elite, felt put back when trying to convert their privileged positions into respective advantages in the British system. The realities of day to day work in education were shown in the complaints registered by the education department. In 1958, Agozi, for instance, reported that an ‘African’ teacher, Sa īd Muammad Sa īd, had been dismissed for absenteeism by the director of the ‘Beit el-Ras’ TTC, Amūr Alī Ameir, who was at the same time accused of being biased as an ‘Arab’. Despite this attack, Amūr Alī Ameir declined legal action against the newspaper as it would create political unrest (ZNA AD 20/10). Civil or criminal charges against officers occurred from time to time, though, even if such charges were not numerous: between 1961-1963, only some minor cases of teacher indebtedness were recorded, such as Muammad Abdallāh Sa īd Mughayrī or Khamīs b. amadī, but also a case of murder against Alī Musin Alī, who was acquitted, however, in 1961 (ZNA AD 20/17). The development of education in the colonial period was thus not only characterized by the development of institutions, curricula and policies, but also by the activities and legacies of the teachers. While some of these teachers such as Lawrence William Hollingsworth, Abdallāh āli al-Farsy and Sayyid Umar Abdallāh acquired life- long fame for their abilities as teachers and motivators of students, others such as G.G. Davis and Bibi Samīra became notorious for their bickering. Still others, such as G.B. Johnson, T.B.I. Mathew and Aboud Jumbe were known for their alleged weaknesses. Their stories can be seen as keyholes that allow some insight into the realities of education in Zanzibar in the colonial period. The British colonial education service was hit several times, in fact, by petty scandals and personal tragedies as well as the disputes that both British and local employees of the DoE started with respect to raises in salary, leave, promotion as well as gratuities. Another topic of disputes as recorded in the files was discipline. On 9 March 1949, an education officer, Weber, explained that the lack of discipline among teachers was due to internal problems of control: ‘The majority of Head Teachers do not like to weed out the complete duds and prevent them from sitting the examination. I think they are afraid of local reactions and prefer the ones to fall on me. This practice not only causes extra work for me but makes their own results look bad’. This statement resulted in 348 chapter seven a reprimand for the Head Teachers (ZNA AD 33/16). Problems with teacher supervision finally led to the development of ‘guiding notes for school supervision’ as of 17 May 1963 as signed by Amūr Alī Ameir (ZNA AD 33/16). In the following paragraphs, some colonial teacher careers will be highlighted in order to show some of the ways in which the British and local elites interacted.

The Tragic Career of G.B. Johnson Discipline was a major theme of colonial education policies, especially in connection with school disciplines such as physical exercise or gardening, which, due to their rootedness in British public school traditions, were hard to understand for the local population and even the local teachers. The enforcement of a rigid schedule with respect to physical exercise for teachers eventually became the background for the first major disciplinary crisis in the history of British colonial education in Zanzibar, which was bound up with the career of G.B. Johnson (ZNA AB 86/26). His case also shows, however, that the British administration was willing, in a number of cases, to act against its own personnel and, if necessary, to support local employees. George Benjamin Johnson was born in 1884 in Galway, Ireland, and educated at Devonport High School and then at St. Paul’s College, Cheltenham. He studied at University College London and in 1920 he was appointed Headmaster of the GCS in Zanzibar. From 1923, he was Inspector of Schools and remained in the colonial service until 1939. He served as ADoE between September 1920 and January 1921 and between October 1923 and April 1924, as well as later in 1930, 1932, 1935/36 and 1938/39. G.B. Johnson’s ‘tragedy’ started in 1922, when he was accused by a local police officer having been riding ‘a bicycle without a light’ on the main street near the Post Office at 1.30am. He was duly arrested by this police officer, Sulaymān b. Sa īd, who recorded and testified this arrest on 16 October 1922, while another police officer, S.I. Sulān Amed filed the suit: I asked him (the accused) to give his name and he said his name was Molloy. I told him that I knew Molloy and he was not him. He then again said his name was B. Molloy while in fact his name was not Molloy but Mr. Johnson as I know him. The accused did hereby commit an offence under section 188 of the Penal Decree by giving me false information with intent to induce me to do or to omit what I would the colonial period III: teachers 349

otherwise have done and pray that summons be issued against him for 19th inst. (ZNA AB 86/26). The DoE, Hendry, G.B. Johnson’s superior, inquired about the case and found that the charge was ‘substantially true’: ‘Mr. Johnson deeply regrets the unfortunate occurrence and has, I think, realized that this sort of thing must not be repeated’. On 20 October 1922, Johnson wrote a letter of explanation to the DoE and apologized: ‘I was attempting to mount my bicycle without a light. My lamp had gone dry and I could not get it to burn. I also gave the police a ficti- tious name. I am not able to put forward any explanation in extenu- ation of this conduct. I very sincerely apologize for the incident and undertake that there will be no recurrence of such conduct on my part. In these circumstances I can only hope that the British Resident will take as lenient a course as may be possible’. This letter was passed to the Chief Secretary who replied (ZNA AB 86/26): Sir, the gravity of your offence lies in your having endeavoured to deceive the Police as to your identity, an act which should be beneath the dignity of any Government official, and is particularly reprehensi- ble in your case, engaged as you are in the training of the youth of this Protectorate whose respect it is so essential that you should foster and maintain. The British Resident has consequently had seriously to consider the question as to whether you are a fit person to be allowed to occupy the post of Acting Head of the Education Department during the absence of Mr. Hendry, but, in view of your evident realization of the seriousness of your behaviour and the undertaking you have given that your future conduct shall be such as to give no cause for complaint he has decided that it will be sufficient in the present case to stop your next increment for a period of three months. I am to warn you, however, that should your future behaviour fail to be exemplary in all respects you will render yourself liable to immediate suspension. Some days later, Johnson asked for an interview with the Resident in order to prevent this procedure from being recorded in his personal file, but the Resident refused to compromise and only one year later Johnson had the next problem to deal with: on 15 September 1923, the teachers of the GCS, summoned by him for Physical Exercise (P.E.) at 9.00 am., went away to their classes when Johnson, who was known be ‘overly punctual’, failed to show up for the appointment ‘at 9.00 struck’. In a note to the DoE, Johnson reported the case: ‘I arrived in the office at 9.03 this morning, having stayed at home to prepare a P.E. lesson which I had announced yesterday. When I arrived I found all teachers had gone away immediately nine 350 chapter seven struck. Apart from the impertinence this shows, it is also a revelation of the interest they have in their work’. As a consequence, Johnson demanded punishment for ‘indiscipline and impertinence’ for the teachers Dharsi, Vellani, M. Abubakar, S. Bwana, A.R. Muammad, A. Farān, M. Naor and M. Borafia. He demanded a fine of one rupee as well as a letter of apology by each teacher. The teachers refused to comply, however, even when Johnson repeated his demands and extended his time limit until 17 September, 4pm., and threatened all teachers who did not comply with suspension (ZNA AB 86/26). In a formal letter to the DoE, the teachers maintained that ‘1. They were all present for P.E. at 5 minutes before 9 am; 2. Johnson who usually comes at 8.59 was not there and judging by his way of taking strict action against lateness (as he did against Mr. Hamid Mansab some time ago) we could not imagine that he would come after nine, since he had previously passed a notice to the effect that he expected us all to be in the yard by 8.59’. The teachers also refused to consider an apology. Hendry refused to accept this interpretation of the case and replied, on 17 September 1923: ‘This note only adds impertinence and their action is a distinct refusal to comply with orders given them’. The teachers still refused to apologize, however, and were consequently suspended, while other teachers, namely, A.E.L. ājj, āmid Manab, B. Muammad, A. Muammad and H. Shangama, apologized but expressed their solidarity with the punished teachers by resigning voluntarily from service: We feel sure that the question of drill has only been used as a means to give vent to the grievances the teaching staff have against treatment accorded to them, since nine of the teachers have been suspended for such an insignificant reason we do not feel assured that like treatment will not be accorded us in case of a slight slip on our part in order to preserve our interests we are reluctantly obliged to share our fellow masters fate, pending agreement between you and the members of the drill class (ZNA AB 86/26). As a reaction, all teachers were summoned by Hendry and a meeting took place on 22 September 1923. The teachers were represented by Sulaymān b. Naor al-Lamkī of the AA. They maintained that they were unwilling to apologize to Johnson and unwilling to resume work under him: Also, they were not prepared to withdraw a letter of complaint of 18 September 1923 to the Chief Secretary. The DoE had explained this note to the Chief Secretary by saying ‘that the underlying reason for the insubordination seems to be some grievance the colonial period III: teachers 351 but the teachers have taken the wrong way of airing their grievance’. As a consequence, the school was closed for two days, until most teachers signed a letter of apology, with the exception of Mr. Vellani who asked to be retired from work, a plea that was accepted by the administration. Before this outcome was achieved, a meeting between the Chief Secretary and the teachers took place, however, in which the teachers were allowed to express their position. The Chief Secretary consented to hear their position and to appoint a commission of inquiry into the conditions of work of the teachers at the GCS: ‘After having talked with the Chief Secretary and heard all he had to say we wish to express regret for leaving the drill class in the way we did’ (ZNA AB 86/26). As a consequence of this development, Johnson was eventually requested, in October 1923, to resign from his duties as headmaster of the GCS and to take over ‘inspectorial work’. The affair came to an end only formally, however: on 13 October 1924, the Chief Secretary wrote a note to the Resident which said (ZNA AB 86/26): Mr. Johnson is not popular with the native teachers—see in attach- ment, file papers relating to a strike of the native staff (minute 43 of October 10th 1924): DoE to Chief Secretary: ‘The revolt of the teachers hastened the change of his work’. The headmaster was not able on account of his ‘multifarious duties’ to devote more time to teacher training, ‘further the extra hours (of teacher training) gave to the disaf- fected among the staff just the material required for the fomenting of the discontent which had long existed owing to the disadvantages of a teacher’s career in Zanzibar. The latter was the underlying cause of the revolt against Mr. Johnson’. As a consequence, the responsibility for disciplinary routine was shifted to Mr. Haji, ‘leaving Mr. Johnson free for the work described in a previous minute, viz. inspection and following up of inspection by individual tuition combined with revising and detailing the syllabus’. To combine such duties with a Headmas- ter’s work has already shown itself to be impossible and I therefore suggest that the title of Mr. Johnson be ‘Inspector of Schools’. This decision was approved by the Resident and the Chief Secretary, and was confirmed in the 1924 annual report (ZNA BA 5/3) which mentioned that the new Headmaster of the GCS was J.A.B. Haji. This meant that Johnson was effectively dismissed from daily school routine. On 15 December 1924 Resident Hollis remarked with respect to Johnson: ‘Mr. Johnson is hardworking and keen, and he knows his work well. At one time he was inclined to be a martinet which resulted in a strike amongst the teachers, but he is now more 352 chapter seven

appreciative of the Eastern characteristics than formerly’ (ZNA AB 86/26). Interestingly enough, Johnson continued to act as DoE in Hendry’s absences but Hendry consistently refused to nominate him as Deputy DoE and instead proposed to appoint him to the position of ‘Senior/Chief Inspector of Schools’ on 22 March 1928, an idea which was implemented in July 1929. On other levels of administrative procedure, Johnson’s efforts to gain some recognition for his work failed as well. In July 1936, for instance, when acting as DoE, he asked for a raise in salary and remarked: ‘When I applied for promotion on transfer in 1924 the Secretary of State caused me to be informed that I had little prospect of promotion in view of the number of candidates with high qualification. Since that time I have been consistently passed over’. Although Hendry supported his application, the Executive Secretary rejected his application for an increase in salary on 11 August 1936 (ZNA AB 86/26). In 1938, Johnson again acted as ADoE and asked to be appointed as Hendry’s successor as DoE on 27 July 1938 as Hendry had stopped to work in May 1937, while Johnson had already acted as DoE in the past for a period of two years. However, his request was rejected by the Chief Secretary on 24 July 1938. Johnson repeated his plea on 4 August 1938 and announced his intention to retire by September 1939, but his request was rejected again. A note by the Resident to the Secretary of State said: ‘I do not consider that Mr. Johnson’s administrative ability or professional qualifications are such as to justify his promotion’. Also, the Resident intended to abolish the office of ‘Chief Inspector of Schools’ as soon as Johnson retired. Johnson’s request to be nominated successor of DoE Hendry was finally rejected by both the Resident and the Colonial Office (Malcolm McDonald) on 29 March 1939 (ZNA AB 26/26). While G.B. Johnson’s career became a tragic case of British education policies in Zanzibar, his wife, Georgina Rose Johnson, turned out to be a model educator (ZNA AB 86/30 and B215). Due to her excellent teaching record, the Secretary of State for the Colonies was willing to override an administrative rule that women holding permanent and pensionable appointments under Colonial Governments should resign on marriage. The British Resident in fact argued, in a letter of 30 May 1931, that this rule was not only to be rejected but that Mrs. Johnson’s request to be appointed permanently and on a pensionable basis was supported as well: ‘she is persona gratissima alike to parents and pupils’, a move that was accepted by the Secretary the colonial period III: teachers 353 of State for the Colonies on 9 September 1931 (ZNA AB 86/26). Divided sympathies for the Johnson couple were shown publicly on 13 May 1939, when al-Falaq reported a farewell ceremony held in the honour of DoE Hendry and the Johnsons, who left Zanzibar at the same time. In this ceremony, Abdallāh Muammad al-a ramī praised the outgoing DoE as well as Mrs. Johnson, while G.B. Johnson was mentioned only briefly: ‘Mr. Johnson’s love of thoroughness and accuracy is proverbial, and he has ever been most anxious to train his subordinates in these qualities. We have always admired his sym- pathetic attitude in dealing with grievances, his willingness to listen, to reason and the personal interest he has always taken in the welfare of the staff’ (ZNA AB 86/26).

The Happy Career of Lawrence William Hollingsworth While G.B. Johnson may be seen as a case of a British colonial career ‘gone wrong’, another officer in the education department, Lawrence William Hollingsworth (1896-1981) could be regarded as an opposite case in the 1920s and 1930s. Unfortunately, his personal file did not exist anymore in the ZNA and was destroyed in Britain, at the PRO, due to the laws of administrative routine, five years after retirement from service. To make matters worse, archives and libraries in London and Oxford do not have a collection of Hollingsworth ‘papers’, and there was only one entry on him in the 1939 ‘dominions office and colonial office list’ and none in the ‘Who’s Who’. Kirk- Green’s biographical dictionary of the British colonial service, while covering the period from 1939 to 1966, has only a short entry on him and is silent on his life after 1944; finally, it was impossible to find an obituary and inquiries at Macmillan’s, his publishing house, have also failed to produce a result. Despite the fact that well known Zanzibaris such as Juma Aley, Alī Musin al-Barwānī or Sha bān āli al-Farsy praise him in their own books, L.W. Hollingsworth remains an enigmatic person. Traces of his legacy may be found, however, in Mazungumzo ya walimu and annual reports. Lawrence William Hollingsworth was educated at Sir Walter St. John’s School, then at London University and the London Day Training College. He received a B.A. in Education from the University of London and, in addition, a post graduate diploma in education and history, and became a Fellow of the Royal Historical Society (F.R.Hist.S.) as well as a Member of the Royal Society of Teachers 354 chapter seven

(M.R.S.T.). He entered active service in East Africa in 1916 and arrived in Zanzibar on 3 October 1922, where he took over, for a short period of time, from G.B. Johnson, as principal of the GCS. In June 1923, he was appointed principal of the new Teacher Training School (TTS), a post which he held until 1935, when the school was closed due to lack of demand as well as empire-wide administrative reforms. The training functions of the TTS were taken over by the Government Secondary School (GSS) as well as the newly established ‘Dole’ Rural Middle School where many of the teachers trained by Hollingsworth were employed. In 1935, he became the headmaster of Zanzibar’s first GSS, where he ‘helped foster a sense of belonging to a leading intelligentsia’ among his students such as Yayā Alawī, Zam Alī Abbās, Amad Sayf al-Kharūī, Juma Aley, Abdallāh Muammad al-a ramī, Muammad Abd al-Ramān al-Makhzūmī, Muammad Sālim Hilāl al-Barwānī, Muammad Shamte Hamadi or Aboud Jumbe (Glassman 2004; IC102, 10.9.2007 see the picture on p. 147). From the very beginning of the TTS in 1923, according to Jonathon Glassman, colonial officers such as Hollingsworth envisioned classroom teaching as a ‘forcing-bed’ for the growth of an administrative cadre. For a period of about 35 years, the TTS and its successor institutions such as the RMS in Dole, indeed trained a large share of the island’s administrative staff, many of whom began their career in the classroom after being taught by Hollingsworth. And a significant number of these former schoolteachers went on to become prominent politicians, administrators and intellectuals, particularly within the Arab Association and the ZNP. Hollingsworth, the first director of the TTS from 1923, and then, from 1935, of the GSS, ‘was a man whom many leading intellectuals remembered as a formative influence’ (Glassman 2000b: 4/5). In his different positions he probably trained the majority of educated Zanzibaris before the zama za siasa of the 1950s and thus, a majority of those Zanzibaris who came to have a major influence in politics and public life in this period of time as well as in the first years after the revolution. L.W. Hollingsworth not only seems to have been an outstanding teacher personality, dedicated to his work as well as his students, but he also was one of the few colonial administrators who were praised highly by their former students, even a long time after his departure from Zanzibar in 1944, as was acknowledged in a Mwongozi article of 20 September 1963 titled ‘Dr. Hollingsworth and uhuru’. Hollingsworth also acted repeatedly as ADoE and refused to be the colonial period III: teachers 355 posted to other colonies. Sha bān ali al-Farsy remembered L.W. Hollingsworth as a man ‘whose diligence, devotion to duty and inde- fatigable energy have never been equalled. His memory is still warmly cherished by numerous students, a good many of whom are now holding responsible jobs in the Civil Service as well as in Business Firms’ (al-Farsy 1955: 29). Almost equally, Juma Aley and Alī Musin al-Barwānī thought Hollingsworth to be one of the greatest con tributors to educational advancement in Zanzibar, who refused, for 13 years, promotion or transfer, ‘an unusual feat among colonial officials’ (al-Barwānī 1996: 66), teaching hundreds of students at the TTS as well as the GSS: ‘As a teacher he was unrivalled. A dull student was to him a challenge. He would often declare: I am not going to be defeated by a fool like you: you must understand. He would then try every method to explain until the dullest student understood: It was an experience to hear him teach’. He was seen by many Zanzibaris as a ‘builder of characters’ and taught hundreds of teachers in Zanzibar in the colonial period (al-Barwānī 1996: 31; 66f). As a trained scoutmaster, Hollingsworth also re-founded the Zan- zibar Boy Scout movement in 1925 (see Loimeier 2006d: 121ff. and Crofton 1953: 44). He had taken the Gilwell Park Scoutmaster course at the central training centre of the Boy Scout movement in Gilwell near London, before leaving for the Protectorate, where he was ‘putting into practice with praiseworthy enthusiasm the knowledge he gained there’ (1922 Annual Report). Hollingsworth also initiated, in 1927, the journal of the TTS, Mazungumzo ya walimu (initially: ‘The normal magazine’) as a discussion forum which was to become the first major forum for the publication of short texts by Zanzibar’s emerging intelligentsia of teachers as well as a platform for the construction of Zanzibar’s identity as an ‘Arab civilization’ (see Glassman 2004, in particular, footnotes 87ff). Hollingsworth’s main aim in starting Mazungumzo was, in fact, to develop ‘Swahili as a language capable of bearing all the work of the modern world’ (Glassman 2000b: 8). L.W. Hollingsworth also wrote a number of influential books such as A short history of the East Coast of Africa which became part of Zanzibar’s and Tanganyika’s school syllabus (history) as Historia Fupi ya Pwani ya Afrika ya Mashariki (London, 1949; since 1951 in the Swahili translation), Zanzibar under the Foreign Office (1952), which was accepted as a Ph.D. by SOAS in 1953, A School History of Zanzibar (with Harold Ingrams, London 1925), Jiografia ya Unguja na Pemba, The Asians of East Africa (London 1960); and 356 chapter seven

Milango ya Historia which also became part of the history syllabus in government schools in Zanzibar and Tanganyika and was written together with Amad Sayf al-Kharūī and Muammad Sālim Hilāl al-Barwānī, his assistants at the TTS, as well as Abdallāh Muammad al-a ramī (three vols., 1925, 1929 and 1931). Other publications were Advanced Swahili Exercises (with Yaya Alawī, 1944 and 1968) and Njia za Kufundisha. He was decorated several times, amongst others with an MBE (1935) and a ‘Brilliant Star’, Zanzibar, 1938. L.W. Hollingsworth left Zanzibar in 1944 and settled in Surrey until 1958, then in Devon, where he called his home ‘Kilimani’, ‘on the hill’, after Zanzibar’s Kilimani, where he continued to write, teach and give lectures. He taught Kiswahili at SOAS together with Yayā Alawī and supported, after 1964, the exile opposition paper Free Zan zibar Voice in Portsmouth, edited by Amad Sayf al-Kharūī, his former assistant at the TTS (al-Barwānī 1996: 68). L. W. Hollingsworth died on 1 November 1981 (communication David Killingray, 17.11.2004; courtesy of the Overseas Service Pensioners Associa- tion).

The Short Career of T.B.I. Mathew While the careers of G.B. Johnson and Lawrence William Hollings- worth may be regarded as careers set in the heydays of the colonial period, the case of T.B.I. Mathew was set in the late colonial period and reflected the changing political frameworks of the time. Thomas Benjamin Itty Mathew was born on 5 May 1903. He was married and had seven children. He seems to have been Indian (according to his own assessment) or an India-born British citizen who liked to pass himself off as being ‘Indian’, yet, seems to have cultivated some rather odd forms of behaviour that excluded him from both British and Indian circles in Zanzibar. He had acquired an M.A. from Cambridge and was appointed in 1961 to become a mathematics teacher at the Sayyid Khalifa TTC at ‘Beit el-Ras’. Judgments on him in the colonial files are rather consistent and attest ‘lack of disciplinary powers, a rather weak person; criticism of his work and professional conduct have been conveyed to him verbally by the principal, particularly as regards discipline, has a poor disciplinary sense, nor any particular capacity for organization’ (ZNA AD 49/44). In a letter from the principal of the Sayyid Khalifa TTC, W.A. Dickson (B200), to the DoE, Hann, in 1961, Dickson complained that although the colonial period III: teachers 357

Mathew, who had been appointed master of chemistry, had been in Zanzibar for only two months, it had already been necessary to speak to him ‘on various matters’. Dickson mentioned that he never had any formal teacher training. He had ‘a pleasant although slightly odd manner. A particularly annoying trait has been his complete lack of humility in fitting himself into the life of the school within the past two months’, also, he would reject criticism of the principal (Dickson) by saying that ‘it was his privilege to criticise’ (ZNA AD 49/45). The complaints regarding Mathews behaviour eventually convinced the DoE, Hann, to ask the principal of the Sayyid Khalifa TTC to hand out warnings in a written form, otherwise no action could be taken. In a confidential report of 16 November 1961 by Dickson to Hann on Mathew, that was sent to Mathew on 29 January 1962, Mathew was reprimanded again for ‘a tendency to lecture rather than teach’, as well as for ‘not having sufficient patience with the students’: ‘your lack of patience and rather abrupt manner tends to create unrest among the students’, also ‘you have shown yourself on occasions only fairly willing to cooperate on matters of school policy and argumentative over specific instructions’. Mathew responded on 31 January 1962 in bad handwriting that he had had no chance to reply to these accusations as he had been on vacation. Still, he did not respond to the points of criticism that had been raised. The affair escalated when Mathew was reported by Dickson to have uttered an insult against another teacher, Mr. Jasavala. He was asked to explain and did so in a letter of 1 February 1962. According to Mathew, Mr. Jasavala had kept him waiting outside the classroom when classes were supposed to change (ZNA AD 49/45): I lost patience with Mr. Jasavala. Mr. Jasavala kept me waiting for the 4th time. I am unimpressed by Mr. Jasavala’s manners from the very first day in school (Sept. 18th, 1961). On Sept. 18th, he told me that I should be stiff, that the Britishers would put me down and write me down. He said later that Mr. Dickson ‘murdered’ physics in form I. Mr. Jasavala also remarked unapologetically that I was a crank and therefore the staff pulled my legs. Both Mathew and Jasavala were invited to talk with the DoE, Hann, on 17 February 1962, as recorded by Hann in a memorandum of 23 February 1962. Mathew was reprimanded by Hann because of his ‘weaknesses in teaching technique, class discipline and cooperation with members of the staff’ and his ‘rude manner to Mr. Jasavala’ and he admonished Mathew, with respect to his relationships with the 358 chapter seven staff, that ‘rather than resorting to writing these notes about other members of the staff to the principal he should examine his own attitude. I informed him that until he had come on the scene none of this nonsense and letter writing (about other members of staff) had occurred’. In his conversation with Mr. Jasavala, the latter denied having told Mathew that, ‘the Britishers would put (him) down and write him down; that Messrs. Pigott and Dickson were only carpen- ters, (and) that Mr. Dickson murdered physics in Form I’. Mr. Jasavala maintained that these statements were misrepresentations of points which had come up during his conversations with Mr. Mathew soon after his arrival in Zanzibar, and that he had done quite a number of things for him at that particular time; what he had emphasized to Mr. Mathew was that the staff did not always have the qualifications for teaching the subjects which were assigned to them, in the case of Mr. Dickson he had stated quite frankly that (although) Dickson was not qualified academically to teach physics, he was doing his best in that subject with form I. These remarks were thus not meant to be derogatory, but were understood as such by Mathew, who subsequently informed Pigott and Dickson. Complaints about Mathew continued and on 24 April 1962, Sayf b. amūd Fayal, Alī Mgeni and Shaykh Hilāl, the students’ representatives at the Sayyid Khalifa School, complained that he did not teach but lecture and that written work by students was scanty. Their conversation was circulated in the school, discussed by the teachers and fed into a ‘memorandum’ on Mathew that summed up the complaints about him, amongst others, that he had taught a wrong part of the syllabus in mathematics, that he had discontinued homework, ‘as students were copying’, that he did not mark individual students’ books. The school also refused, on 18 May 1962, to book a passage for Mathew’s wife from India ‘pending consideration of the general situation concerning his work’. This issue was recorded in a letter by the new principal of the Sayyid Khalifa School, Peter Herbert Pigott, to the DoE, Hann, who sent copies to the Civil Secretary on 26 May 1962 as well as a letter of information to Mathew: This officer was appointed on a three-year contract, and arrived in Zanzibar on the 15th of September, 1961. It is regretted that he has not proved a satisfactory appointment, and it is proposed to make a recommendation concerning his contract. During even that short time from his arrival, his conduct and work had given cause for concern. The fault the colonial period III: teachers 359

(for a number of incidences) did not lie entirely on Mr. Mathew’s side, but the incidents are further evidence of the unsatisfactory relations which Mr. Mathew appears to build up between himself and other staff members. The most recent development was the complaint to me by a deputation from the Zanzibar Education Society concerning Mr. Mathew’s work. This was unprecedented in my fairly long experience in Zanzibar. It is considered that Mr. Mathew has been given ample warning and opportunity since his arrival to make good. It is considered that Mr. Mathew has failed to do so. It is therefore recommended that Mr. Mathew be given three months notice of the termination of his contract on the grounds of efficiency and unsuitability. The memorandum of the principal concerning his talks with the Zanzibar Education Society as well as a summary of his discussions with Mathew confirmed the problems concerning Mathew’s case: ‘The gist of the complaints was that Mr. Mathew did not teach in the classroom, but lectured instead, and the pupils consequently found the subject matter difficult to follow. Moreover, the written work done by the pupils was scanty, and was not marked. In short, the pupils felt that this teacher was not doing all he should towards their progress’. These judgments were supported by a report on Mathew by Dickson which confirmed that, He continued to teach in a manner which did not allow the majority of the students to absorb the work being taught. Contrary to instructions, he failed to give a fair amount of homework exercises. No improvement was shown in this direction towards the end of the term. He continued to allow an excessive amount of latitude to the students in his classes and gave the impression that it was not his business to control a badly behaved class. He inferred that there were outside influences at work causing the unrest. He continued to show himself unwilling to co-operate fully on matters of teaching and discipline. Mathew reacted by finally typing his letters, and on 31 May 1962 he admitted that he had taught the wrong section of the mathematics syllabus, and that he had discontinued homework on account of Ramadan. He asked for the three months notice to be withdrawn, a plea which was rejected by Hann on 4 June 1962. The problem now arose that Mathew’s dismissal was not easily possible as his contract did not entail a clause for early termination. Thus, it would have been necessary to establish ‘incompetence’, which would have raised legal problems as it would have been necessary to establish a standard for assessing ‘incompetence’ and to prove that he had failed to attain 360 chapter seven that standard (letter Attorney General to the Chief Secretary, 18.7.1962). The case was considered again on 10 August 1962 by the Public Service Commission, and the Attorney General confirmed, on 24 August 1962, that it was not possible to predict the outcome of legal action in a court of law against him but that ‘if he proves to be incompetent the employer is not bound to continue him in his service for the term for which he was engaged’. As a result, the DoE decided to terminate Mathew’s contract without increments. The respective paragraph in Mathew’s application was crossed out, in fact, by Hann, and ‘report followed in a separate confidential cover’, on 19 July 1962, with three months notice for 19 December 1962. Mathew protested, but in vain, and commented: ‘I have been shabbily treated as never before’. He tried to blame the general political situation for his ‘having created a unique situation’, namely, the Zanzibar riots of 1961 and the bomb attack after the failure of the Lancaster House talks, but accepted, despite his claims of having performed excellently in his life and career before, that ‘oddly the indiscipline was peculiar to my classes’: May not such class-room insurrections have been inspired, if they were confined to me as the sole Indian teacher? Were they not inspired especially as both Arab and Africans had separately sounded me as to political partisanship in an anti-British way, a thing I stoutly repudia- ted? Indeed as recently as on October 15th, 1962, a soviet pamphlet was insistently thrust on me by a local Senior boy, urging on me political association as ‘other teachers were politically active’, and when I rejected these political advances, in my class occurred a lusty ‘blow- up’ with a distribution of more Soviet pamphlets. The principal, apprised of it, dismissed the incident as school-boy exuberance. I choose to differ.

The Disturbed Career of Aboud Jumbe Mwinyi Another case of a rather unhappy late colonial career was Aboud Jumbe Mwinyi, who was to become Zanzibar’s second post-revolutionary President from 1972 to 1984, and who started out as a teacher in the Education Department (ZNA AB 86/44). Aboud Jumbe was born on 14 June 1920 in Zanzibar and lived in Kikwajuni (Ng’ambo). He went to the Government Central School from 1930-37, up to Standard VIII, then the Government Secondary School from 1938-42 up to standard XII. He studied English, history and geography in Makerere from 1943 to 1945 and acquired a Makerere Teachers’ the colonial period III: teachers 361

Diploma in 1946. He was appointed teacher at the GCS, on 14 February 1946. He was, in fact, the first African secondary school teacher. Since 1960, he worked full time for the ASP and retired from school service in 1961 in order to take part in the 1961 elections and was indeed elected member of the LegCo (ZNA AB 86/44). After the revolution, he was one of the few members of the Karume government who had secondary school education (Burgess 1999: 34). Aboud Jumbe’s career as an officer in the DeptoE was disturbed by a number of incidents. In 1946, Jumbe was convicted of ‘being in possession of native liquor, contrary to section 3a of the Native Liquor Decree No. 6 of 1942’, and sentenced to pay a fine of Sh. 2/50 on 19 October 1948. The DoE commented ‘with reference to Aboud Jumbe, I have the following comments to make: a) I shall see Aboud Jumbe and reprimand him. I shall also warn him that a further offence is likely to lead to disciplinary action’. Jumbe had a number of bad experiences with the British colonial administration, which refused to support his repeated applications for grants for studies abroad, although local personalities such as Ameir Tajo certified in 1949 that A. Jumbe ‘is a person of good character’ (ZNA AB 86/44). Jumbe, in fact, applied for a scholarship (to Britain) but was rejected by the DoE in 1952: ‘Mr. Aboud Jumbe is an assiduous teacher, but is not outstandingly capable. I would say that at 32 years of age he is too old to attempt a degree course at someone else’s expense’. Jumbe applied again in 1954 and finally got a teacher refresher course at Makerere, then applied for another scholarship for Britain in 1955, but was rejected again. On 29 January 1960, he was involved in a motorcar accident and was charged with driving a motor vehicle without a driving license as well as of careless driving on Chukwani Road. He was fined a sum of 25 Sh. and his case was assessed by the DoE (in a letter to the Chief Secretary, 16.3.1960): ‘Mr. Aboud Jumbe appeared in court and was found guilty on the charges as already notified to you by the commissioner of police. Mr. Jumbe’s conduct has for some time been unsatisfactory because he is addicted to drink. Yet, as the police with- drew the third charge (careless driving) against him, I do not feel, therefore, that we have sufficient grounds for dismissing him. I therefore think that the only thing that we can do is to warn him officially that his conduct in this matter is not that expected of an officer of his grade, warn him that he is ruining his career through drink and notify him that if there is any suspicion of his drinking at any time 362 chapter seven in the future he will be summarily dismissed from the service’. Davies, the principal of King George VI College at that time, had actually reported that he had developed a habit of drinking on the beach with his students (ZNA AB 86/44).

The Unhappy Career of Sha bān āli al-Farsy While Aboud Jumbe’s career as an educator was disturbed by his addiction to alcohol, Sha bān (Shaaban) āli al-Farsy can be seen as a model case of a late colonial teacher. Sha bān āli al-Farsy, a brother of Abdallāh āli al-Farsy, was born on 14 July 1914. According to his personal file (ZNA AD 49/2; December 1963), he married in 1941 and had six children. His was appointed to a government position on 1 February 1934. He received training at the TTC, then worked as a teacher at primary schools and became headmaster of the Darajani Primary School. He then worked as a teacher at the Dole RMS, then at the GSS and finally at the Wete School in Pemba from 1944-47. He obtained a professional teaching certificate at the Institute of Education in London, London University, in 1950 and returned to Zanzibar in 1951 where he was appointed, on 26 September 1951, to the position of Assistant Education Officer and served as teacher both at the GSS and Sayyid Khalifa TTC at ‘Beit el-Ras’. He also wrote two books, Swahili Sayings and Zanzibar Historical Accounts (Lahore, 1955). In April 1963, he was appointed District Education Officer. As such, he was in charge of the administration of all primary schools in Zanzibar and the inspection of housing, allowances and payments. His work of supervising primary schools was considered to have reached a reasonable standard and he was regarded as a steady worker. He was also lecturing at the Sayyid Khalifa TTC, although his 1961 assessment mentioned that ‘he did not make a success of his trial at the TTC’. Sha bān āli al- Farsy actually worked at the TTC from 1959 to 1960 and was, according to another confidential assessment dated April 1961, supposed to become the ‘number 2’ at the college. Yet, during his stay at the Sayyid Khalifa TTC, he showed himself to be somewhat lacking in ideas and to be deficient in the subjects necessary for a teacher training college lecturer. The degree of responsibility that could be given to him was very small and it was considered that he was being asked to operate in environment altogether outside his capabilities. It was further decided that it was possible that he would be more likely to (do) such administrative work the colonial period III: teachers 363

and was therefore transferred to Education Department Headquarters as an Assistant Education Officer. It is quite certain that he is unsuitable for an appointment at the Teacher Training College (ZNA AD 49/2). His 1963 personal report remarked: ‘very good conduct, pleasant manners, even temperament, accepts responsibility willingly, good administrative ability, good professional ability, good capacity for organization, very good ability to cooperate with other officers, very good relations with the public, a generally satisfying officer, his approach to his work is rather routine, lacks any outstanding qualities, sound rather than outstanding, has been advised to be more forward looking in his work’. After the revolution, he continued to work in the administration like other members of the Farsy family, but was summarily dismissed by Ali Sultan Issa in 1967 (IC82, 15.8.2007). He went first to Dar es Salaam, then, continued to Mom- basa, then to Oman (Musa 1986: 11f and ZNA AD 49/2). The condescending tone of British judgments concerning his capabilities was clearly expressed in an exchange of letters between him and the DoE, when Sha bān āli al-Farsy complained, in a letter of 12 August 1963, written in response to an official statement, that ‘he was not talking nonsense. I have long established in the course of my 30 years service in this department that I am a sensible man and never talk nonsense. I have observed, with mixed feelings and surprise that the tone of your letters is increasingly getting offensive and objectionable. I am inclined to think that this is a deliberate act of provocation towards which I want to express my genuine resent- ment’. The DoE, Hann, responded to this letter on 14 August 1963, by saying that, It was improper to address a head of department in that way. The letter (in question) was unaddressed, undated, and unreferenced, and there was neither a solution nor ending to it. I would like to confirm to you in writing what I said to you on that occasion, namely that whatever the state of your feelings about any matter, you should endeavour to conduct any correspondence on it in the correct manner. In regard to the actual letter which was the direct cause of your note, I have explained to you that the two reports on the particular teacher, that from the Headmaster and yourself respectively, were so much at variance that an explanation was called for. You have now given me a perfectly reasonable explanation of the wording of your report, and I should be glad to have this submitted as an endorsement on the confidential report itself. I am sorry to gather that you have taken the 364 chapter seven

contents of certain official letters so much to heart. Head Office must issue instructions and corrections from time to time and my advice to you is to accept them for what they are, and not to read too much of personal implications into them.

Sha bān āli al-Farsy reacted to this letter on 27 August 1963, com- plaining that the DoE, without bothering to address the issues he had raised, ‘started by picking out faults that my letter was unaddressed, undated and unreferenced. I have always conducted my correspondence in the correct manner. I want to correct you, if I may, when you said that I have taken the contents of certain official letters so much to heart. It is not the contents but the tone and the objectionable language deliberately used, that I have taken so much to heart. If I can be so offensively addressed in an open letter as ‘you are talking nonsense’, I simply dread to imagine the language reserved for the lowest member of the menial staff in the department’. Hann answered that he had little to add and that letters were not written with the idea ‘of undermining your prestige, or personal standing in the department. There are times when an officer has to be corrected or has to be pulled-up because of some action or other which he has committed’, and he repeated, offering personal advice, ‘do not read them (official notes) in such a personal light’.

The Turbulent Career of Bibi Samīra Complaints, as with respect to G.B. Johnson or T.B.I. Mathew, were not confined to ‘British’ staff, but were also ‘cultivated’ by local employees, as, for instance, in the case of Bibi Samīra (see file ZNA AB 86/36 and AB 86/37, as well as AD 49/5 and AD 49/14), who acted, in the 1950s, as Senior Women Education Officer. Bibi Samīra was born in Zanzibar on 28 January 1924 but lived, from 1926, in Egypt. She was the daughter of Sālim b. Sayf al-Ma āmirī and a niece of Muammad b. Nāir Lamkī, and thus, a member of Zanzibar’s intellectual elite. She grew up in Egypt and was educated at Fouad University, Cairo, where she was awarded a B.A. in English literature in June 1947. On 15 March 1948, she was appointed to service, but first took up studies in Oxford in 1950/51 and London where she acquired a diploma in education in 1952. In 1951, she was appointed Assistant Education Officer and on 1 January 1953, Education Officer. In 1955, she got a Fulbright grant for 1955/56, and went to Chicago where she obtained an M.A. in education from Chicago University. the colonial period III: teachers 365

In 1955/56, she married Mas ūd b. Amad al-Bū Sa īdī, a District Commissioner in the colonial service; the couple had three children. In 1959, she was appointed Acting Principal of the Sayyida Matuka Girls Secondary School and was promoted to become Senior Women’s Education Officer in 1961. Finally, she became Principal of the Women’s Teacher Training College (WTTC), Sayyida Nunuu College, in 1962. After the revolution, she continued to work in the DeptoE (see chapter 9) but eventually moved to Morocco (IC50, 23.7.2007). In his last personal report on her before the revolution, written on 6 the DoE, Hann characterized her work on 6 January 1964 as: ‘General conduct excellent, pleasant attractive manners, willing to accept responsibility, otherwise only ‘goods’’. Bibi Samīra has carried out her duties as Senior Women Education Officer satisfyingly’. Her file shows, however, that her rapid rise in the administration of education in Zanzibar as well as her perception of herself as one of the first highly qualified women from Zanzibar in the public and education service led to serious disputes. In Bibi Samīra’s case, these disputes not only acquired an almost war-like character, but were also quite successful, possibly due to her remarkable qualifications, her elite status and the fact that colonial rule was about to come to an end. According to some voices, Bibi Samīra could afford to be ‘rude’ as she knew that the British could not touch her any more at the end of the colonial period. Also, she was a member of an influential family and closely linked with the wealthy Rawwāī family (IC50, 3.8.2004). In 1960 Hann wrote in a personal report: ‘Bibi Samīra is one of the experienced and more senior officers in the department. She was considered to be a good candidate for the post of Headmistress of the Girls’ Secondary School, but strongly opposed this, expressing preference for teacher training work. She has been transferred (1961) to this work; with her ability and if she tackles the work with sustained energy and enterprise, there is no reason why she could not make her mark there’ (ZNA AD 49/14). With respect to a standard question in the personal file whether any criticism had been raised regarding her conduct, the report said: ‘Bibi Samira has had several frank discussions with senior members of the staff, and is aware of their opinion concerning her work’ (ZNA AD 49/14). In a letter of 12 April 1960, Bibi Samīra started to complain about procedures. She had obviously been asked to comment on a case of administrative procedure, regarding an application for increments for a teacher at the Sayyida Matuka School, Mrs. Bhatia (B190), with 366 chapter seven the suggestion that it should be rejected. Bibi Samīra refused to comment on this, adding: ‘Besides I do not think it is right for principals to be told what to write in confidential reports (by other administrative officers, in this case, the Superintendent of Education, RL). They should be given the liberty to say what they feel about the officers working under them’. On 9 January 1959, Bibi Samīra had temporarily accepted the position of Acting Headmistress of the Government Girls’ Secondary School, Sayyida Matuka College, but stated that she would rather prefer to work at the Womens’ Teacher Training College, Sayyida Nunuu College at ‘Beit el-Ras’. Eventually, she was nominated (letter DoE, S.F. Hann, 1.4.1960) to the post of Principal of the Sayyida Matuka School, as from 12 May 1960, although she had made clear in several letters 2.4., 6.4. and 12.4.1960), that she would prefer to become the Principal of the Sayyida Nunuu College, a position occupied at that time by Miss Joan Bowen (B193). To her first letter on 2 April, the DoE responded in a note of 5 April 1960 saying that the post of Principal of the WTTC was not vacant, but that she could apply if it became vacant, and would then be considered. According to Bibi Samīra, the rejection of her application for the WTTC position ‘prejudiced the Director’s attitude towards me’: ‘This, in my humble opinion, is grossly unfair and completely uncalled for’. She consequently accused the DoE of making erratic decisions, accepting her wish not to become Principal of the Sayyida Matuka School in 1959, then appointing her to exactly this position in 1960, while rejecting her application for the position at the WTTC: ‘The Hon. the Director of Education’s and the Superintendent of Education for Women & Girls’ (a position also filled by Miss Joan Bowen, RL) arguments, if I may be permitted to say so, are rather unconvincing’. She continued to argue that either she was right for the position or not. If the argument was that the DoE wanted a ‘high-powered’ person for the position at the WTTC but not her, then why appoint her to the position of Principal at the Sayyida Matuka School which was bigger as a school than the WTTC, and a rather high-powered position: ‘This appears to be incongruous to me’: She wanted to work with teachers and not with students, and wanted to ‘help raise the standard of women in this country’ and to improve Arabic teaching: ‘Perhaps these are not regarded by the Department as important aspects of our girls’ education but to me they constitute the basis of our morality and culture’. Joan Bowen commented on this letter in a letter of her own where she said, referring to the Bhatia case men- the colonial period III: teachers 367 tioned above that ‘I have seldom been so angry as when she accused me of trying to make her do something against her conscience’: I had merely reminded her of what she had said about Mrs. Bhatia to me. She did refer to it later in her letter to you but stated that Mrs. Bhatia ‘felt that her arithmetic was not quite up to the mark’. My reason for reminding her of her duty was because when she was acting as principal of the Girls’ (Secondary) School she asked for my help in a matter of discipline concerning an education officer. I had to speak very sternly to the officer in question and I always consider it a serious matter if I have to intervene in an internal school problem. However, until I reminded Bibi Samira of her duty no mention of this officer’s shortcomings appeared in her confidential report. I am disappointed that she should consider me capable of such pettiness, I might even say vindictiveness, as is implied in her letter. Bowen continued to state why Bibi Samīra had been proposed for the position at the Sayyida Matuka School and argued that she was the best and most senior local officer. An outside search had not led to results and she did not want to pass her over; also, her experience had been in secondary schools. This would be an advantage for the Principal of a secondary school, but a disadvantage in teacher training. In a further letter to the Chief Secretary of 16 April 1960, Bibi Samīra’s argumentation was rejected by the DoE, and her arguments were characterized as being contradictory. The DoE mentioned, however, that ‘no injustice has been done or intended, Bibi Samīra was being asked to take up a most important appointment, the one for which she is judged to be the best suited’. Yet, her unwillingness to take up the position was ‘tantamount to disobedience’. In addition, the position of the Principal of the WTTC was ‘simply not vacant, Bibi Samira’s argumentation was thus not understandable’: ‘It appears that she is putting her personal interests first, and wishes to pay no heed to what is considered by the Department to be her duty at the present time’. Subsequently, Bibi Samīra had a conversation on this matter with the Chief Secretary, Robertson, who again rejected her arguments and responded in a rather diplomatic manner, in particular with respect to the idea that the position of Principal of a school was a permanent one, and that she had been ‘acting’ in this position: The Chief Secretary insisted that ‘this was a posting and so no more permanent than any other posting’. In a further letter of the DoE, Hann, to Bibi Samīra of 3 May 1960, Hann accepted that as a result of preceding discussions with, amongst others, the Chief Secretary, 368 chapter seven the DoE would not press Bibi Samīra to take over the position of Principal of the Sayyida Matuka School and that she would be considered for the position of the Principal of the Sayyida Nunuu Training College, when that position became vacant. On 9 December 1960, another meeting of the Acting DoE, Greig (B206), Mrs. Joan Bowen and Bibi Samīra took place. At this meeting, the question of the position of Principal of the WTTC turned up again, and Greig stressed that Bibi Samīra would be qualified for the position at the Sayyida Matuka School, i.e. secondary school work, and that she would be considered for the job, as the most senior women’s education officer, if it should come up. Also, Greig offered her the possibility of performing the duties of Principal in Miss Bowen’s absence until Miss Bowen’s return from Makerere. Bibi Samīra rejected this offer, and ‘maintained that she was unwilling to be taught the duties of the post by Miss Bowen prior to her departure. She maintained that she was perfectly capable of carrying out the job. She stated that it was not the wish of locally domiciled officers to be taught, it was their wish to do things’. These discussions clearly show that a conflict had been brewing up between the DoE Hann and his AdoE, Greig and Bibi Samīra, for some time. Still, when in December 1960 Miss Bowen’s leave of absence was approaching, the AdoE asked Bibi Samīra, in a letter of 10 December 1960, if she would be willing to take charge of the Seyyida Nunuu Training College in Miss Bowen’s absence. As the most senior women’s education officer, she would be naturally considered as successor for the post. If she would consent, she could show her capabilities by developing a time-table for the term after Ramadan, by helping lecturers to adapt their schemes of work to the capacity of their students, and by assessing the work of the students. In her response of 15 December 1960, Bibi Samīra again refused to work as Acting Principal as a replacement for Miss Joan Bowen, as she was supposed to fill this gap only temporarily before Miss Bowen’s return, and accused Greig of double talk: ‘You yourself admit that I am the most senior women’s education officer in the Department. In another breath you do not hesitate to undermine my suitability for the post and you seem to think that a term’s tutelage under Miss Bowen is a necessary requirement’, and refused to work as ‘a trainee-principal’. In a further note, the ADoE mentioned that Bibi Samīra’s connection with the WTTC was that she had taught Arabic classes there but that she had stressed that ‘this was a waste of time because of the the colonial period III: teachers 369 fact that they were incapable of learning any Arabic’. Also she had acted as Principal of Sayyida Matuka College. However, when acting as Principal of this college, she had stated ‘that she was not able to give a report on the work of one officer as she was not able to assess properly her work at the college’. Also, Bibi Samīra had refused to work at the WTTC while Miss Crowhurst was Acting Principal (from December 1960, i.e. the position Bibi Samīra had refused to accept) and she had also rejected the offer to go, on her sabbatical, on a teacher training course arranged for her in Britain due to problems with accommodation. The ADoE concluded: I think that one must try to appreciate Bibi Samira’s intransigent attitude in the light of her personal circumstances. The future, so far as the Arabs in the Protectorate are concerned, depending of course on the results of the elections, may well appear to be not particularly rosy, in addition to which I think that the death of His Highness, in view of Bibi Samira’s close connection with the former Sultana must have caused her considerable worry. I think therefore that Bibi Samira may be very anxious indeed to safeguard her future as far as possible (ZNA AD 49/5). In 1961, another quarrel broke out between the ADoE Greig and Bibi Samīra in which the ADoE finally lost his nerve and started to shout at Bibi Samīra in his office when she claimed that ‘you are always the same in this department. If a European is to be appointed, you give them as much as you can. If a local officer is to be appointed, you give them as little as possible and say that they are no good. I know I have suffered in this way’. The note explained that Bibi Samīra had specifically referred with this remark to DoE Hann as well as Mrs. Bowen. The Chief Secretary reported this incident to the Resident: ‘There has been an outburst between two of the most senior members of the Education Department. I am sorry that this has had to go on record and even more sorry that I have had to waste my time and now yours on it. The record shows that Bibi Samīra made provocative remarks to Mr. Greig who did not have sufficient sense to control his temper or his voice’ (ZNA AB 86/37). On 3 July 1961, Bibi Samīra wrote a letter to the Civil Secretary and the DoE, with a copy to the Minister of Education, Alī Musin al-Barwānī. In this letter she presented her case, referring to British officers as ‘expatriate officers’: While local officers were prepared to learn and to work hard, they cannot understand the attitude of an expatriate officer who flares up without provocation and lets out a torrent of abusive language. As you 370 chapter seven

are no doubt aware, I am now acting Senior Women’s Education Offi- cer. As such I am one of the most senior officers of the department and my duties demand consultations with the Director and his Assistant. It was during one of these consultations that I was subjected to such humiliation as I had never experienced before in my life. At the end of the morning on Saturday 1st July, I went into Mr. Greig’s office to discuss with him the temporary appointment of a local woman, Mrs. Latifa Jiddawi, to fill the vacancy created by the resignation of Mrs. Harrington from the Lady Rankine Domestic Science School. I expressed my opinions in a free way and pointed out one or two anomalies. One of them was the very low salary which the Assistant Director proposed to offer to Mrs. Jiddawi. This compared most unfa- vourably with the terms previously given to Mrs. Harrington; and in view of the very small difference in their qualifications I regarded the offer made to Mrs. Jiddawi as unfair, and intended to try and discuss this matter with Mr. Greig, so that the two of us could work out a reasonable solution. Believe me this was in an endeavour to save the Department from accusations that it discriminates in the appointment of its officers between local people and expatriates. Somehow, and very much to my amazement and consternation Mr. Greig took offence unnecessarily and thought that I was casting aspersions (sic) on him. He shouted at me so loudly that the clerks and the typists sitting in the hall could hear him distinctly telling me to ‘shut up’ and to ‘keep silent’. In my opinion and according to our upbringing and customs the words ‘shut up’ and ‘keep silent’ are abusive and are never used between equals or even by Seniors to their Juniors. I did not expect such words to come from Mr. Greig and I was therefore very surprised and taken aback. I controlled myself however, and refrained from shouting back, for it is not in my nature to do so. All I did was to tell him that that was not the way to talk to people (ZNA AD 49/5). Greig’s summary of the case as presented in a letter of 4 July 1961 to the DoE, did not deny his outburst, but stressed that a long conversation on the respective issues in the personal files of the persons concerned (Mrs. Harrington, Bibi Laīfa) had occurred and that Bibi Samīra seemed to have lost patience, and to have said that ‘you are always the same in this Department. If a European is to be appointed, you give them as much as you can, if a local officer is appointed, you give them as little as possible and say that they are no good. I took this to be a reflection on my personal integrity and told Bibi Samira what I thought of her’. In a confidential letter of 5 July 1961 from the DoE, Hann, to the Civil Secretary, the case was restated, and was said to have started over Bibi Samīra’s suggestion to fill the vacancy created by Mrs. Harrington with Bibi Laīfa Jiddawī, ‘a person with the colonial period III: teachers 371 qualifications in needlework, and engaged in a dressmaking business in Zanzibar. Bibi Latifa had failed a teachers’ examination in needlework and had had no teaching experience’. On the basis of this assessment, Greig had obviously proposed to employ Bibi Laīfa on a low salary scale but wanted to see her file before making any decision, which seems to have raised Bibi Samīra’s indignation, triggering in turn Greig’s anger. Greig even admitted an outburst in the context of the remarks over the alleged discrimination of local officers. Hann’s letter concluded the summary of events by stating that ‘it is difficult to agree that the blame lies with one officer alone, or to determine exactly from which side provocation came in the first place. From what I know of Mr. Greig, he is not an officer who would resort to vigorous language without being provoked. It is suggested that this unpleasant contretemps should not be exaggerated in its cause or effect’. Bibi Samīra continued to complain, however, in a letter of 28 July 1962, that she had been filling a position for nineteen months as Acting Senior Women’s Education Officer ‘without any indication from H.M.’s Government as to what the future policy is regarding the filling of this post’, and demanded immediate ‘Zanzibarization’: ‘I have worked long enough in this capacity to enable H.M.’s Government to decide whether or not I am a suitable candidate’. In a note from the British Resident to the Secretary of State for the Colonies dated 10 October 1962, Bibi Samīra was finally promoted to the post of Senior Women’s Education Officer as successor to Mrs. Joan Bowen, although her promotion to this position with effect from 25 March 1961 was approved on 14 November 1962 only. At the same time, the DoE recommended her appointment as Principal of the WTTC.

The Smooth Career of Amūr Alī Ameir The case of Bibi Samīra points to a change in tone in administrative procedures which announced that British rule was drawing to its end. The transition to independence became particularly clear in the biogra phy of Amūr Alī Ameir (al-Marūbī), a member of the Arab Association in Unguja. Amūr Alī Ameir seems to have had a smooth career in the British educational system (see ZNA AD 49/3, 8, 9). His positive assessment in the annual reports since 1949 is consistent. The confidential annual reports reveal that he went to Britain on sabbatical leave in 1961, where he was attached to teacher 372 chapter seven training institutions and that he obtained a teacher’s professional certificate from the Institute of Education, University of London, with ‘some proficiency in Arabic and English, very good Swahili’. In the 1960 annual confidential report, Greig mentions that his ‘main weakness is in translating ideas into practice, particularly if his schemes have to be carried out by subordinates of limited ability’, still, ‘he is a first rate officer’. As a consequence, he rose quickly in the colonial administration, by comparison with officers of comparable age such as Sha bān āli al-Farsy or Hilāl al-Barwānī who started service as teacher on 1 January 1932, but was appointed Assistant Education Officer on 26 December 1949 only. Amūr Alī Ameir was born on 19 February 1915, was married and had ten children, but was divorced in 1959.3 Amūr Alī Ameir was educated at the GCS, then at the TTC. He spent four years at the Jeanes School in Zomba, Nyasaland from 1926-30, became a teacher in Zanzibar in 1930, and acquired the Teachers’ Certificate in 1933. He was formally appointed to a position in the Zanzibar administration on 1 February 1934, and from then on he quickly rose within the administration, a career that usually led from ‘teacher learner, teacher grade IV, III, II, I, primary teacher, assistant education officer, to, finally, education officer’. In 1940, Amūr Alī Ameir became teacher at the Dole RMS, then was four years acting Head- master at ‘Dole’, while Sha bān al-Farsy was his assistant. In 1944, he was appointed Assistant Education Officer, and then studied, from 1946-1947 at Bakht al-Rū a College near al-Du aym (ed-Dueim), about 200 kilometres south of Khartoum in the Sudan, where he was taught by P.M. Holt. From 1947, he was in England for one year and studied in London at the Institute of Education. On 10 October 1948 he was nominated Education Officer and was in charge of primary schools. From 1952-56, he served in Pemba. In 1956, Amūr Alī Ameir got a UNESCO travelling fellowship in rural education training courses and visited the West Indies, the USA and India, then was posted, in 1956, to ‘Beit el-Ras’, where he became Principal of the TTC in 1958. He was appointed ADoE on 1 October 1962. Amūr Alī Ameir effectively started to work as supernumerary ADoE from 1 July 1962 and took over the duties of the ADoE in October when

3 Possibly due to a love affair with Bibi Samīra; IC26, 8.8l.2007; IC50, 23.7., 25.7.2007; other data are from annual confidential reports, the last being that of 17 December 1963, the last annual confidential report before the revolution. the colonial period III: teachers 373 the latter was on leave. On 1 September 1963, he was appointed full ADoE (letter Permanent Secretary to Hann, 1.11.1963). According to the internal evaluation of his work in 1963, he had gathered ‘considerable experience in and a sound grasp of the administrative work of the Department and the ministry’ (report permanent secretary). In early 1962, he took part in the Delhi Commonwealth Conference on Education as the Zanzibari Delegate (from England, where he was at the Stafford Training College). His career can thus be explained, at least in its final stages, by a process of accelerating appointment of local employees by the colonial administration to positions in the DeptoE in the context of the Zanzibarization scheme. In 1953, the British as represented by Hann, at that time the ADoE, had already supported his ‘accelerated promotion’. Indeed, the British seem to have groomed him for a leading position in the Education Department. In fact, he continued to work in the DoE after the revolution, like a number of his colleagues, until at least 1967, and then emigrated to Oman, where he helped to build Sulān Qabūs University in Muscat in the 1970s (IC26, 7.8.2007; see also chapter 9). His personal reports unanimously remarked: General conduct excellent, an officer of pleasant friendly temperament, dependable and efficient who is capable and willing to accept responsibility and who shows more energy and initiative than his contemporaries of equal status in the Department. Administrative ability very good, his grasp of departmental matters and policy is sound and this, in conjunction with his knowledge of local conditions and customs makes his opinions worth listening to; very good capacity for organization, excellent ability to cooperate with other officers; very good relations with the public; a very able and reliable officer, his year as supernumerary assistant director of education he has confirmed his ability to administer the department efficiently. He has a sound grasp of educational principles, and in addition his wide knowledge of the fundamentals of community development problems is a valuable source of information and advice concerning procedures in this field. He is energetic, and has good powers of leadership and control (signed Hann). The degree to which Amūr Alī Ameir’s career was supported by the Protectorate administration was shown in a dispute over two promotions, when other education officers were sidelined. In 1956, Amūr Alī Ameir, together with Mr. Pigott, Miss Crowhurst, Mr. Khahoo, Sayyid Umar Abdallāh, Mrs. Bhatia, Miss Philipps and Mr. Longin, was assigned to the B5-1 salary scale. Through this act, Amūr 374 chapter seven

Alī Ameir was promoted over a senior Indian Muslim teacher, Mr. Khahoo (B217), who had been appointed Education Officer on 1 January 1944. In late 1961, Amūr Alī Ameir was also appointed to a newly created position of supernumerary AdoE despite the protest of Geraint George Davies (B199) although ‘Mr. Khahoo’s case’ was still around (letter DoE, Hann to the Chief Personnel Officer of 20.2.1962). Amūr Alī Ameir’s career thus not only blocked the career of a fellow Indian Muslim teacher, Khahoo, but also that of an English administrator, Davies. Davies was obviously expecting to rise quickly in the administration and was consequently rather annoyed at being over, in 1963, in favour of Amūr Alī Ameir (see above, letter 30.7.1963 to Deputy British Resident): ‘I have the honour to address you on the subject of the recent promotion of Sheikh Amor Ali Ameir to the post of Assistant Director of Education, backdated to October 1962. By virtue of this appointment, a junior officer has on racial grounds superseded me and effectively blocked my prospects of promotion. I therefore ask that the operative date for the implementation of the compensation scheme shall, in my case, be October 1962’. The DoE explained the situation to the Chief Personnel Officer. According to him, the appointment of Amūr Alī Ameir was due to ‘departmental convenience’ and it was ‘doubtful, had sheikh Amor Ali not been available as a supernumerary whether Mr. Davies would have been called in to act’, clearly pointing out that this was a political decision and that Davies would have been passed over anyway: ‘I can understand Mr. Davies’ feelings in this matter; to anyone in his position, the effect in actual practice, of the existence of such a supernumerary post, cannot be regarded as anything but supersession’. As a consequence, Davies resigned as Prin- cipal of King George VI College on 1 August 1963, but consented to continue service for a final round of fifteen months, until December 1964. After the revolution, Davies handed in his letter of retirement to the DoE, Hann, on 22 February 1964 (AD 49/4 and 49/16). Hann had himself been replaced on 6 July 1963 by Amūr Alī Ameir as Acting DoE and Hann subsequently proposed to go on leave from 1 May 1964 and left Zanzibar on 30 April 1964. On 20 April 1964, Idris Abdul Wakil, the new minister of education and national culture, who followed the first post-revolutionary minister of education, Othman Sharif, in this office, had written to Hann (ZNA AD 86/22): the colonial period III: teachers 375

Sir, I have to convey to you the decision of his Excellency, the President that as from today, the 20th April, the combined post of Permanent Secretary to this ministry and DoE, will be abolished, and replaced by another to be entitled Principal Assistant Secretary, Ministry of Edu- cation and National Culture. Mr. Ali Hassan Mwinyi has been selected for appointment, in an acting capacity to the new post, and you are requested to hand over to him today. Until your departure it will be taken that you will assist Mr. Ali Hassan Mwinyi in an advisory capacity (signed Idris Abdul Wakil). With the nomination of Ali Hassan Mwinyi, a future President of Zanzibar (1984/85), as the new DoE and Amūr Alī Ameir as his deputy, the colonial era finally came to an end and indigenous Zanzibari administrators took over, even if they were sooner or later replaced by a new generation of bureaucrats who rose to leading positions in the administration of education through the revolution. They soon started to marginalize the ‘old hands’ such as Amūr Alī Ameir, Bibi Samīra, Abdallāh āli al-Farsy and Sayyid Umar Abdallāh, who had been formed by their experience as employees of the British colonial education service.

7.3. Colonial Teachers II: Abdallāh āli al-Farsy The rise of one of Zanzibar’s most influential scholars in the 20th century, namely Abdallāh āli al-Farsy, was closely linked with the development of colonial education. By contrast to Sayyid Umar Abdallāh (see chapter 7.4.), there exists a considerable body of sources and literature on and by Abdallāh āli al-Farsy.4 According to Bakari (n.d.) and Rajab (2001), as well as many others, Abdallāh āli al-Farsy was one of the most notable scholars of his days and ‘everywhere (sic) a good Muslim was expected to be’ (Bakari, n.d.). He was regarded as a great poet, scholar and historian in Zanzibar,

4 Apart from his own work on the East African ulamā (1972), there is the work of Bakari (n.d. and 1989), Kresse (2007b), Lacunza Balda (1997), Rajab (2001), and the biographical text by his student Saidi Musa (Maisha ya al-Imam Sheikh Abdulla Saleh Farsy katika ulimwengu wa Kiislamu, 1986). His personal file (ZNA AB 86/136) as well as files ZNA AB 1/34, 445; AB 22/102, AB 70/7; AD 1/34, BA 5/9,17 and PRO files CO 601/4 and 688/30) must be mentioned in particular. Also, there are a number of articles by him in al-Falaq. In addition, a little booklet by Abdallāh āli al- Farsy titled ‘bid-a’ (sehemu ya pili) contains a short account of Abdallāh āli al-Farsy’s life by Saidi Musa (Musa 1981), authorized by Abdallāh āli al-Farsy. Unfortunately, I was not able to get an al-Azhar thesis on Abdallāh āli al-Farsy’s work (Sālim 1994). 376 chapter seven whose influence extended from Somalia in the north to Cape Town in the south. In Zanzibar, he was known for his impartiality: he was not ‘hizba’, not known for partisan political convictions. He was also famous for his ‘adabu’, his good manners, was known to always greet first and to respond to letters. Also, he did not want people to stand up to greet him (IC59, 19.8.2004). In Kenya, he continued to be seen as ‘a man of the people, friendly, flexible, willing to please and respectful in communication’ (Kresse 2007b: 247 see his picture on p. 144). He acquired fame as a collector of books and owner of a huge library, which expressed his desire for knowledge (Rajab 2001), and he was author of more than a hundred texts in Arabic and Kiswahili which have only partially been published (see below), in particular his 807-page translation of the Qur ān into Kiswahili. On the other side, Bakari claims that ‘no previous Chief Qadi (of Kenya) has been as controversial as his life and legacy’ (Bakari n.d.) and his opponents in Kenya described him as a ‘Wahhābī’ radical. His life and legacy seem to be known much better than Sayyid Umar Abdallāh’s. Still, misrepresentations of his life continue to exist. Some sources falsely claim that he had been a principal of the Muslim Academy or that he had been a Chief Qā ī of Zanzibar. Also, Abdallāh āli al-Farsy’s career in Zanzibar’s colonial administration between 1933 and 1964 occupies only seven lines in Musa’s account of his life (Musa 1986: 59), and the different stages of his career in Zanzibar and Kenya were interpreted rather misleadingly in terms of ‘moderate’ and ‘radical’ periods. Abdallāh āli al-Farsy thus remains an enigmatic person with respect to a number of aspects of his life and career. Being a central figure of Zanzibar’s and later Kenya’s scholarly networks in the 1950s, 1960s and 1970s, this chapter tries to re-evaluate his legacy and to provide explanations for some of the more enigmatic aspects of his career. His personal file (ZNA AB 86/136) opens with his successful application for a place at the TTC on 11 February 1930. Abdallāh āli (b. Qasīm b. Manūr b. ay ar b. Amad b. Muammad) al-Farsy :was introduced there as ( ﺍﻟﻔﺎﺭﺳﻲ he personally signed his name) ‘Kadhi, Judicial Department, formerly Supervisor of Religious Instruction, education department, born 1912 in Zanzibar, of Persian origin. Education at the Government Central School, then Teacher Training College (since 1930), the parents have been resident in Zanzibar in 1932 for 45 years, address of father was Malindi/Z.’ the colonial period III: teachers 377

Abdallāh āli al-Farsy was born in the Malindi-Jongeani quarter of Zanzibar on 12 February 1912. His father was āli b. Abdallāh b. āli al-Farsy (b. 1886), who had married his mother, Bibi Fatma (1894-1964) in 1907. His paternal grandfather, Abdallāh b. āli b. Qasīm al-Farsy (d. 1939) had been a captain of one of the Sultan’s ships, while his maternal grandfather, Jābir b. āli b. Qasīm (1865-1949) had been a religious scholar who taught the Qur ān and studied with famous Zanzibari scholars such as Abd al-Ramān b. Wazīr. His family belonged to a large family of traders, scholars, medical doctors and employees of the Bū Sa īdī rulers, and later, the British administration. Well known were, for instance, his maternal grandfather and uncle, Jābir b. āli al-Farsy, who established an important branch of the Farsy family that still exists today in Zanzibar (Musa 1986: 5). A number of sons of Jābir al-Farsy rose to respected positions in the colonial administration: āli b. Jābir became a government interpreter, while Abdallāh b. Jābir worked for the government printing press; emed Jābir became an administrative officer and other sons such as Abd al-Ramān b. Jābir, Qasīm b. Jābir and Sulaymān b. Jābir as well as ay ar b. Jābir (1926-7.12.2004) added to the fame of the family. ai ar b. Jābir’s son, Jābir ay ar Jābir, again became a religious scholar in contemporary Zanzibar. Another famous member of the family was Qasīm b. āli al-Farsy, a member of the delegation that was sent to Berlin in 1888 in the context of the consultations for the Zanzibar-German boundary treaty. Abdallāh āli al-Farsy’s brother Sha bān has already been presented above (Musa 1986: 11). In his youth, Abdallāh āli al-Farsy lived in a number of different homes in Zanzibar. Some years after his birth, the family moved from Malindi-Fungoni to Malindi Bondoni (Bondeni) into a house close to the Mnara mosque, then to a house near the Malindi juma mosque, then back to Funguni. He started his Islamic education with the memorization of the Qur ān and studies of tajwīd with the following teachers: a. Bibi Zawadi Fatma, a daughter of amīd b. Sa īd (1854-1936). This scholar from Ikoni (Comoros) was a student of al-Amīn b. Amad in Malindi-Jongeani/Zanzibar. With Bibi Zawadi, Abdallāh āli al-Farsy memorized the Qur ān and some ādīth (Rajab 2001; al-Farsy 1972: 45; Musa 1986: 26-35). 378 chapter seven b. Umar b. Sumay (see chapter 3), who taught him the principles of adīth, fiqh and maniq and gave him ijāzāt for the texts he had studied (Rajab 2001; al-Farsy 1972: 45). c. Abūbakar b. Abdallāh Bā Kathīr (1881-1943; see chapter 3) who taught him in fiqh (Rajab 2001). Abūbakar b. Abdallāh Bā Kathīr also appointed Abdallāh āli al-Farsy (as well as Alī Musin al-Barwānī and Muammad b. Umar al-Khaīb) as tutor of the Ramadan classes in Gofu mosque and named him reciter (muqri ) of the Qur ān at Gofu when Muammad b. Umar al-Khaīb resigned from this office in 1939 (al-Farsy 1972: 44). d. Abdallāh Bā Kathīr (al-Farsy 1972: 46ff; see chapter 3). e. āmid b. Amad Manab (1901-65; see chapter 3), the imām of the Forodhani Friday mosque until his death, who was himself a student of Muammad b. Abd al-Raman al-Makhzūmī. āmid b. Amad Manab was actually the first teacher to instruct al- Farsy in fiqh from 1926. āmid b. Amad Manab also taught al-Farsī the risālat al-jāmia (al-Farsy 1972: 39 and Rajab 2001). The fact that al-Farsy studied with āmid b. Amad Manab may explain why he did not become a student of Amad b. Sumay, who seems to have been at loggerheads with the Manab family (Bang 2003: 139, see also chapter 3). f. Muammad b. Abd al-Ramān al-Makhzūmī (1877-1946; B114), who taught al-Farsy fiqh, in particular, fat al-muīn, iqnā and minhāj al-ālibīn (see chapter 4). Al-Makhzūmī also taught him, in 1944, ‘the arts of determining the proper hours of worship and the direction of the qibla’ (al-Farsy 1972: 45; Rajab 2001). g. Amad b. Muammad al-Mlomry (1873-1936, B127), who had studied with Muammad Abduh at al-Azhar in Cairo; with him, al-Farsy concentrated on tafsīr (al-jalālayn), taw īd, adīth, fiqh, taawwuf, na w, arf and Arabic. After completing his studies, he received an ijāza and was allowed to teach the Ramadan children’s class at Barza (al-Farsy 1972: 44 and Rajab 2001). Al-Mlomrī was also his major teacher with respect to adīth, and gave him an ijāza that linked him through Amad b. Zaynī Dalān with al-Haytamī, al-Ramlī and al-Maallī/al-Suyūī (Musa 1986: 35; see chapter 4). According to Kagabo (1997: 265ff), al-Farsy got his kilemba (turban) as a ‘shaykh’ from al-Mlomrī. the colonial period III: teachers 379 h. Alawī b. Abd al-Wahhāb Jamal al-Layl (1902-60; B83); with him, Abdallāh āli al-Farsy studied Arabic, na w, fiqh and uūl al- fiqh (al-Farsy 1972: 40 and Rajab 2001). i. Musin b. Alī b. Isā al-Barwānī (1873-1953; B27); with him he studied tafsīr at Gofu mosque, and he also gave him permission to teach the tafsīr al-jalālayn during Ramadan in Barza mosque from 1944 (al-Farsy 1972: 45 and Rajab 2001). While completing his studies with al-Barwānī, al-Farsy travelled to Mombasa and Lamu and studied under: j. Al-Amīn b. Alī al-Mazrū ī (1875-1947; see chapter 3); through him he also became more familiar with the ideas of the Salafiyya (Rajab 2001 and Bakari nd). His connection with al-Amīn b. Alī al-Mazrū ī in Mombasa was particularly important, as al-Mazrū ī had popularized in the 1930s the writings of the Egyptian Salafiyya in East Africa through his journals as-Saheefa and al-Ilā (al- Farsy 1972: 45 and Salim 1985: 100). Although Abdallāh āli al-Farsy described most of his teachers extensively in his major text on the East African scholars of the Shāfi ī school of law, Baadhi ya wanavyuoni wa kishafi wa mashariki ya Afrika, he mentioned some scholars rather briefly and others were not mentioned at all. Thus, Sulaymān (Muammad) al- Alawī Jamal al-Layl (1900-1970; B84), who had married into the Amawī family and who taught at Gofu and Barza, as well as āhir b. Abībakr al-Amawī, one of Zanzibar’s Chief Qā īs in the 1920 and 1930s, were omitted in his overview of the East African Muslim scholars, as was Muammad b. Umar Bakore, the first Chief Qā ī of Kenya from 1922-1932, while Sa īd b. Muammad b. Damān (B42), a favourite disciple of Amad b. Sumay, was treated rather cursorily (on pp. 40/41 and 60; al-Farsy 1972; Bang 2003: 156 and 227; Mwakimako 2006: 305ff). Sa īd b. Damān, in fact, represented another chain of learning and had a number of famous students such as Amad b. usayn, Shaykh ‘Qāmūs’ and Ja far Jamal al-Layl who established their tradition of learning in the Bā Qashmar mosque in Mbuyuni/ Darajani, although they maintained their links with the school of Abdallāh Bā Kathīr (IC73, 22.8.2002). These omissions could be due to several factors: first of all, al- Farsy’s ideas of heshima may have prevented him from writing about some of his immediate contemporaries. However, he devoted two pages to himself (pp. 44 and 45) and a number of pages to contemporaries such as Sayyid Umar Abdallāh and others. He may possibly 380 chapter seven have omitted scholars who were not well known as authors of scholarly texts, such as āhir b. Abībakr al-Amawī, who cooperated closely with the colonial masters (see Bang 2003: 235). Cooperation with the British, though, cannot really be regarded as a criterion for omission, since Abdallāh āli al-Farsy himself worked for the colonial administration for a period of thirty years. Finally, he might have omitted Sulaymān b. Muammad al- Alawī Jamal al-Layl, as he was regarded as hot-tempered, ‘kali’, and a man who did not hold back with critique (IC82, 21.2.2003; IC73, 25.2. and 27.2.2003; IC4, 2.3.2003). In 1922, at the age of ten, Abdallāh āli al-Farsy started to study at Barza mosque, one of the major centres of Islamic teaching in Zanzibar, and three years later, in 1925, he started primary school where he was taught by Abdallāh b. Amad b. Sayf (1900-1940) and Abd al-Bāri b. Abd al-Bāri al- Ajīzī (Lacunza Balda 1997: 109). He finished his primary school education at the GCS in 1930, together with his brother Sha bān, after a course of five instead of eight years (Rajab 2001; Musa 1986: 25). From primary school, al-Farsy went to the TTC, where he was taught by L.W. Hollingsworth. He finished teacher training in 1932 (Rajab 2001; Musa 1986: 25). His first appointment as a teacher started on 24 January 1933 on probation, while his formal appointment was dated to 6 February 1933. He worked as a teacher and in other functions in the DeptoE until 22 March 1960 (al-Farsy 1972: 45). For 1937, his file registered that he had done extra work as teacher by giving classes in Arabic at the Government Secondary School (signed by the DoE, Hendry) and the 1937 annual report on education mentioned: ‘as there is no Arabic in the curriculum of the secondary schools, Abdullah gives some 12 private tuition lessons weekly’ (ZNA AB 86/136). In 1938, his initial five-year contract was extended and he eventually came to work in the DeptoE for 27 years. In addition, he taught tafsīr at Barza and some other mosques. Finally, though much later, he taught Arabic at the TTC (Bakari 1989: 3). In 1937, Abdallāh āli al-Farsy married Amīna b. āli b. Jābir al-Farsy. They had nine children, six boys and three girls. All left Zanzibar in the years after the revolution and settled in the USA, in mainland Tanzania, Kenya, the Emirates and Oman (Musa 1986: 35-42). From the late 1930s, Abdallāh āli al-Farsy also assumed a number of religious functions. Thus, he led the morning prayers at Gofu mosque between 1938 and 1966 and took over prayers from āmid b. Amad Manab al-usaynī (1901-65) at Forodhani Friday the colonial period III: teachers 381 mosque. In addition, he took over witr and tarāwī prayers at Gofu mosque from Muammad b. Umar al-Khaīb in 1933 until 28 October 1939. He then became the muqri (reciter) of the Qur ān at Gofu, where he also led fajr prayers until 1966, when he was replaced by his sister’s son, āli b. Sālim b. Zagar al-Farsy who died in 2006 (Rajab 2001; al-Farsy 1972: 38/39). In 1941, he was promoted to teacher grade II on the salary scale, and in 1947, due to his good performance as a teacher, he was appointed ‘Inspector of Religious Teaching’, a position which had become important due to the integration of the Qur ānic schools into the government school system in 1940. He remained in this position until 1952. From 1950, his position was that of a ‘Religious Supervisory Teacher of Koran schools in the Protectorate’. Apart from him, there were four other supervisors for primary schools: Sulān Khamīs al-Mughayrī (Zanzibar North), Muammad Uthmān Alī (Zanzibar South), Alī Abd al-Ramān (Pemba North) and Muammad Shamte (Pemba South). The 1947 annual report mentioned: In June, Sh. Abdullah Saleh, a teacher in the department, was appointed Inspector of Religious Teaching. This followed the revision of the religious (Islamic) syllabus in 1945 and 1946. Apart from visiting all schools and inspecting their religious work, he holds evening meetings for adults. This appointment has been very much appreciated and there is little doubt that the confidence of the people has been won by the religious teaching given; evidence of this is shown by the large proportion of children who now enter Government schools at the minimum age of 6 without previously attending a Koran school (ZNA BA 5/17 and PRO CO 688/30, annual report 1947). For his achievements as Inspector of Religious Teaching, the files recorded, in 1948: ‘Among the younger Arabs he is probably the most outstanding religious leader in the protectorate. He visits all primary schools and apart from supervising the instruction in the schools themselves, he gives evening talks to local adults which frequently draw very large crowds’ (PRO CO 601/4). His activities as ‘Inspector of Religious Teaching’ are extensively covered in the colonial files from 1947 (ZNA AD 1/34). As ‘Inspector of Religious Teaching’ he had the chance to personally and repeatedly meet every single government Qur ānic teacher in Zanzibar. Abdallāh āli al- Farsy commented on his role in his own words: ‘My aim in these visits was to go to each school and have a meeting with the teachers in order to (a) go through the Arabic syllabus which has difficult 382 chapter seven things to many of the teachers and (b) to go also with them through the Supplementary Readers’ (ZNA AD 1/34). As his journeys of inspection covered a period of several years, reports on government Qur ānic schools became rather frequent at this time, in particular from 1950 to 1953, and allow some insight into everyday school affairs. Al-Farsy thus reported his visit to the Kusini Qur ānic School in Makunduchi on 7 February 1950 critically: The Head Teacher of this school has no good teachers except Sh. Mwi- nyi Haji. I noticed with much despair that the pupils of Makunduchi and Kusini schools have no good manners—the result of the teachers, even the head teachers, being afraid of punishing the boys. When any boy is punished even slightly, his father comes (sic) the whole school and says nasty things to the teacher who has done that and to the whole school in front of the boys of the whole school, and sometimes he takes off his boy. I think something has to be done soon or the teachers will have no respect in the eyes of their boys. None of the 4 classes of the Makunduchi district have the number of boys wanted to form a class. Therefore the class of the Kajengwa area will be shifted to the big Makunduchi School of the north and the Kusini School will dismiss its new comers (ZNA AD 1/34). Generally Abdallāh āli al-Farsy testified to the good state of teaching in the Qur ānic schools as, for instance, during a visit to Bumbwini on 30 August 1951: ‘A very pleasing school. All its teachers are hard working—hence the good result’ (ZNA AD 1/34). However, he also covered cases of mismanagement and poor teaching, and gave advice on ways of improving this state of affairs. Al-Farsy’s reports clearly show that there were great differences between individual schools with respect to the quality of the teachers, the size of the school and the quality of teaching, as well as material conditions. Schools that were judged to be excellent in one year could decline in the next year. All reports were presented to the DoE, and with the support of the latter, al-Farsy was able to propose reforms as far as single schools were concerned, such as to replace single teachers, to transfer them to other schools, or to change timetables and syllabuses. He reported his visit to the Mpirani-Qur ānic School on 19 March 1951 in the following way (ZNA AD 1/34): I was shocked to see Sh. Mohammed Saleh’s work and Sh. Mohammed Osman’s. They have returned to their habit of carelessness and laziness. Sh. Mohammed b. Saleh has left many chapters in the Arabic reading book. When I asked him the reason he said that the chapters have no the colonial period III: teachers 383

pictures and he thought that the chapters which have no pictures are not to be taught. Al-Farsy did not hesitate to point out the shortcomings of Qur ānic schools and thus confirmed, in a way, British critical discourses against Qur ānic school teaching. Yet, his critique of some Qur ānic schools also supported initiatives of reform. When conditions in a particular school were found to be really lacking, al-Farsy was prepared to call a meeting of the Qur ānic school teachers. A circular of 11 May 1951 of the DoE thus read: To all Head Teachers (Zanzibar): All Kuran Teachers, teachers of Ara- bic and Head Teachers are required to attend a meeting at Gulioni School on Saturday, 19th May, 1951 at 9.00 a.m. Sh. Abdullah Saleh will address the meeting on the teaching of Arabic (signed: A.A. Ameir, Education Officer, Zanzibar; ZNA AD 1/34). By contrast, his visit to the Kizimkazi Qur ānic School on 14 February 1950 was described in the following words (ZNA AD 1/34): I inspected all the classes and then had a meeting with all the teachers to discuss what I saw when I was inspecting. I went lengthily on it. I am sure what I told them will have a good effect. I was very much pleased with the Arabic teacher, Sh. Hassan Haji. He is one of the best Arabic teachers we have, although, he himself, as others also, does not master the language. I asked the education officer, Sh. Amor, to write to him a letter informing him of his good work. His visit in Wete (Pemba), on 8 March 1950, was reported as follows (ZNA AD 1/34): Shaykh Khamis Mbarak shows, since last time, some signs of improvement. One of the drawbacks of his class is that the boys have no desks. They sit on the floor, the position which enables no one to write conveniently. But I told them that this can be overcome by changing classes with the Standard I boys, when the Kuran boys want to write. I pointed out to Sh. Khamis Mbaruk, in front of the Head-teacher and Visiting Teacher, the mistakes I found in his work. I hope they will look at his work now and then. A similar result could be reported from a visit to the Vuga School on 20 July 1950: ‘I was with Sh. Rafii Mbwana in his class. It is the best Kuran Class in the Protectorate. He works hard and diligently. I am certain that he is worthy of being made a permanent teacher instead of being temporary up to now. He is very useful in the Education Department’ (ZNA AD 1/34). Particularly enlightening 384 chapter seven were his repeated visits to the Uwondwe School in Pemba, a school visited and inspected by Abdallāh āli al-Farsy for the first time on 9 March 1950: The Kuran Class is now up to the standard which can nearly be termed satisfactory, and this is owing to the assistance the Kuran teacher gets from the Head Teacher. Had it not been for this assistance the results would not have been so good. Standard I: It is taken by a cheerful young teacher, Sh. Nasor Juma. I am pleased with his way of teaching (I pointed out to him some points). Standard II: It is taken by a pupil teacher, Sh. Ismail Sharif. He is not to be allowed to take this class without being assisted by a trained teacher. The result is that nothing of his work is up to the standard. But he is not at all to blame and neither the Head Teacher, Sh. Hamad. He—as other Head Teachers— has no sufficient teachers. This bad state of affairs will continue for the whole of this year and next year perhaps (ZNA AD 1/34). The next visit in Uwondwe on 31 August 1951 led to a similar report: ‘A very pleasing school which is run solely by young teachers who are very keen in their work. The Head Teacher, Sh. Hamad Sharif is to praise. Arabic in upper classes is taken by Sh. Khatib Sulayman— a good work is done by him’ (ZNA AD 1/34). A third visit on 5 October 1951 then reports a crisis in Uwondwe: It has young energetic teachers. Two years back it used to be one of the best schools in Pemba, but through jealousies and disputes among themselves the villagers have made it now a wretched school. The villagers envy these young teachers when they see them flourishing in their lives. Many of the teachers have built there very beautiful houses and curiously enough has annoyed the ill-natured ignorant villagers. They think that when they prevent their boys from going to school the fortune of these young lads will end and they will be like them, poor and discontented. Our teachers have no fault there especially the young Headteacher, Sh. Hamad Shariff. He used to do his utmost to uplift the standard of his school (ZNA AD 1/34). A visit on 12 February 1952 revealed that the situation had become desperate: The school is almost dead now owing to professional jealousy between some teachers and the able young Headteacher, Sh. Hamad Sharif, with the result that the villagers were also involved in this quarrel. Some three years ago the school was flourishing. The roll was somewhere between 150-200. Now, I found that (only) between 20 and 30 (children) attend school. I would suggest reshuffling of the whole staff and let new blood take over. I met some villagers who suggest to me the closing of all Koran schools in their district; the reason being the Kuran the colonial period III: teachers 385

teachers of these ‘chuos’ entice the villagers not to send their children to the school (ZNA AD 1/34). In fact, the annual reports of the DoE for the years 1958-60 stated that the Uwondwe Qur ānic School in Pemba was taken over from the village committee by the government in 1958, ‘in fulfilment of a previous undertaking, but this was the only school to be added to the number of government primary schools during the whole of the triennium under review. Several applications for new schools or for government to take over Kuran schools run by local people had to be refused.’ (ZNA BA 5/34, p. 12) In 1952, Abdallāh āli al-Farsy resumed teaching, but continued to work as Inspector of Religious Education. On 2 February 1956, he again reported to the Senior Education Officer in Zanzibar on the bad condition of Qur ānic classes: ‘some have no blackboards, some have no desks or chairs, all schools are short of Korans, Arabic books, syllabuses of Diana and Arabic, some teachers are not given sufficient lessons in Arabic’. Even after revising and reprimanding schools to improve the situation, ‘some of these schools did not heed to what we agreed’. There were still untrained teachers in Koran classes, their teaching standard being sometimes very bad. ‘Standard V upwards Gulioni school, Shaykh Muhammad Abubakar, Arabic classes are taken by Sh. Muhammad Uthman in an unsatisfactory manner. I warned him, I hope he will reform. He is an appropriate teacher for these classes if he works hard’. On 22 February 1956, Abdallāh āli al-Farsy visited the ‘Koran’ class at the Makunduchi government school and reported: ‘all diana and Koran lessons are taken by Sh. Hafidh Ameir, an old untrained teacher who sticks to his old methods. It is almost true to say that success of the school is due to his influence’. This report was sent to the DoE and Muammad Sālim Hilāl al-Barwānī responded for the ADoE. His response showed how far processes of formalization had progressed by this time: Your omnibus report dated 22.2.1956 in respect of all Zanzibari schools you have so far visited has just reached me. It contains interesting criticism and suggestions which should be seen by the schools concerned. Last year, I gave you a book of our standard report forms which you should henceforward please use. As far as possible vague and ambiguous statements should be avoided and both your criticism and suggestions should say exactly what you wish to express. Please write a new and fuller report on the forms mentioned above, of every one of 386 chapter seven

the schools you have visited. In case of doubt, please come and see me (ZNA AD 33/16). In 1952 and 1953, Abdallāh āli al-Farsy went on a number of journeys to Tanganyika where he acted as advisor for religious teaching and was able to win first disciples on the mainland (Musa 1986: 43-55). From 1954 to 1956, he took part in a teacher ‘refresher’ course and taught Arabic at the GSS (until 1960). In addition, he taught Arabic, from 1958, at the TTC (Rajab 2001 and Bakari 1989: 3). It should be noted, however, that Abdallāh āli al-Farsy was working closely with and for the British administration not only as a teacher and supervisor of religious instruction, but also in other functions: in 1950, he was appointed member of a board directed by Umar b. Sumay, the Chief Qā ī, to consider and give advice on the syllabus and the standards of the ‘Government Arabic Language Examination’.5 The British also asked Abdallāh āli al-Farsy to help with respect to the problem of Arabic teaching and Arab teacher training that continued to bother the Protectorate administration, and sent him to Somaliland in 1955 (see above). From 7 January 1960 to 19 February 1960, al-Farsy travelled to Nyasaland to give advice to Muslim communities on matters of Islamic education (ZNA AB 86/136), and later in the same year Abdallāh āli al-Farsy was sent to London to attend courses at the Institute of Education, after the return of Sa īd Hilāl Bualy, who had been employed as a Swahili teacher at SOAS (ZNA BA 5/9). In addition, al-Farsy took part in official ceremonies, such as a farewell party, in 1944, for Lawrence W. Hollingsworth. Abdallāh āli al-Farsy even composed a few Arabic verses in praise of Hollingsworth and recited them (al-Falaq, 4.3.1944). On 9 August 1954, al-Farsy participated in the first yaum al-arafat celebrations in Zanzibar, a practice started by the milād al-nabī association in Mnazi Mmoja and presided by the Chief Qā ī, Umar b. Sumay and the President of the Arab Association. During this occasion, he gave a sermon on the ‘social and public life of scholars’ and led the uhr prayers afterwards (Mwongozi, 13.8.1954). In 1963, al-Farsy was again present, in his function as Qā ī, during the official mawlid al-nabī celebrations. These celebrations shocked an Egyptian teacher, an Azhar and Dar al- Ulūm graduate who had

5 This was done under general order 326 (1) 1950 as mentioned in a letter of 27 July 1950 by the Chief Secretary of the Protectorate Government, Miller, to Abdallāh āli al-Farsy (ZNA AB 1/428). the colonial period III: teachers 387 come to Zanzibar for a teaching appointment, as being most ‘unislamic’ in character (Schacht 1965: 122). Al-Farsy was not only visibly present on the stages of colonial representation as a representative of the scholarly establishment, but also started to publish texts with the support of the colonial administration. In 1942, al-Farsy sought formal permission to publish as a book a series of articles titled Maisha ya nabii Muhammad that had already been published in Mazungumzo ya walimu. The DoE had no objections (ZNA AB 86/136) and commented: ‘I may say that the work if published would be used as a reader in the religious teaching in some of the classes of the Government schools. The work is a straight forward life of the Prophet and contains nothing objectionable to any sect’ (DoE, 21.7.1942). The British even supported the publication with a financial contribution of Sh. 2,701/37. More books were to follow, such as Tarehe ya Imam Shafi na Wanazanoni wakubwa wa Afrika ya Mashariki in August 1944, again supported by the British in financial terms. This book was republished in an extended version in 1972, under the title Baadhi ya wanavyuoni wa kishafi wa mashariki ya Afrika. Despite the omission of some scholars as mentioned above, this text can still be regarded as a fairly comprehensive overview of East Africa’s established traditions of learning since the late 19th century (see Kresse 2007b). The ADoE, Grant, again remarked regarding this text: ‘It contains nothing objectionable to any sect’. A third book appeared in 1947 under the title Mawaidha ya dini and was supported by the British (ZNA AB 86/136). In 1950, al-Farsy finally asked for permission to publish a book on Sultan Sa īd b. Sulān that had also already appeared as a series in Mazungumzo from September 1942 to December 1945. In 1951, he started to publish a first translation of some sūras of the Qur ān, in particular, sūra yā sīn from verse 27. Finally, he undertook a translation of the tabāraka (tabāruk dhī l-ulā) prayer, and got permission for this publication as well (ZNA AB 86/136). Apart from these texts, Abdallāh āli al-Farsy wrote numerous other texts, mostly in Kiswahili, in the course of his career as a scholar (see a fairly complete list in Musa 1986: 74-5) such as Sala na Maamrisho yake, Ndoa na Maamrisho yake, Saumu na Maamrisho yake, Mambo anayofanyiwa Maiti, Bidaa na Matanga na Hukumu za Eda, Bid-a I na II, Sifa za Mtume Mawaidha na Dua, Mashairi I na II, Maisha ya Sayyidnal assan, Maisha ya Sayidnal Hussein, Utukufu wa Sala na namna ya Kuisali, Mafunzo ya Dini, Tafsiri ya 388 chapter seven

Maulidi Barzanji neno kwa neno, Wakeze Mtume wakubwa na wanawe wengine, Vyakula alivyokula Mtume, Upotofu juu ya Tafsiri ya Makadiani and Kisa cha Miraji. These texts show that he was not only interested in Islamic history, but also wrote about prophetic tradition, local custom and, in particular, a large number of aqīda texts. Also, he was concerned with the struggle against the Amadiyya movement, known as the ‘Makadiani’ movement in East Africa, the biographies of some a āba and members of the family of the Prophet, and poetry (mashairi). In addition, Abdallāh āli al-Farsy published articles in journals and periodicals, in particular, Mwongozi and al-Falaq, religious contributions (tafsīr and maamrisho, advice) with respect to topics such as prayer or adīth, in 1957, for instance, tafsiri ya Koran, and, in 1963, a series titled Sala na Maamrisho yake. Finally, he was active as a radio commentator from the early 1950s and gave regular talks on religious issues as documented in 1956 in Zanzibar’s official weekly gazette, Maarifa. He also contributed, in Kiswahili, to Sauti ya Unguja, Zanzibar’s Kiswahili radio station, where he had a program on mawaidha (religious advice) every Thursday from 11.15am to 11.30am. However, in the 1940s his outspoken and sometimes rather critical positions with respect to some aspects of Islamic popular ritual started to trouble some religious scholars affiliated with the Sufi brotherhoods, in particular the Qādiriyya. According to one of his students, from 1946/47 he gave mawaidha from the bayt al-ajā ib in Zanzibar and criticized, amongst others, specific aspects of the mawlid celebrations, burial rites such as khitma, talakiri and matanga, visits to the graves of the deceased (kuomba makaburi), Sufi practices such as the awl, the dhikr and kinume, as well as maji maji and kuzindua, all that ‘was not in the Qur ān and the Sunna’. He was even nick-named ‘Mtume anasema’ (‘the Prophet says’) due to his frequent references to the Prophet. In 1947/48, due to his controversial sermons, forty religious scholars finally asked the Chief Qā ī, Umar b. Sumay, to give an opinion on Abdallāh āli al-Farsy. They pointed out that al-Farsy was not only, as a scholar, junior to Umar b. Sumay and less learned, but also came from a less respectable (non-sharifian) family. They asked Umar b. Sumay, as being senior and more learned in religious matters, to stop al-Farsy from saying controversial things in his public statements and texts. Umar b. Sumay responded, however, that he regarded al-Farsy as a great scholar (mwenye chuoni mkubwa) despite his age, who only said what the colonial period III: teachers 389 was in the Qur ān, and that the Sunna of the Prophet, and after the Sunna, the Shāfi ī madhhab, would provide guidance for Muslims in East Africa. He thus gave him his support. After this response, Abdallāh āli al-Farsy could continue to preach, now publicly recognized by Umar b. Sumay (IC59, 19.8.2004). Although al-Farsy was active on many different levels, as a teacher, as a publisher, and as a radio commentator, one issue seemed to bother him more than any other, namely the struggle against the practice of the dhikr, in particular those forms of the dhikr that were known in Zanzibar as zikri ya dufu or zikri ya kukohoa. His struggle against these features of popular religious practice were reflected prominently in a number of his publications such as Baadhi ya wanavyuoni wa kishafi wa mashariki ya Afrika. In this text, he quoted a poem by Abd al- Azīz al-Amawī against the zikri ya kukohoa (see chapter 3) that had become a famous piece of anti-dhikr-polemic in Zanzibar. Abdallāh āli al-Farsy’s struggle against the dhikr finally led, after polemics in 1949, to a confrontation with Mamūd b. Kombo in Makunduchi and the first ‘religious’ rally in Zanzibar. This affair was recorded by the colonial administration (ZNA AB 70/7) and demonstrated not only the extent to which the colonial administration was prepared to interfere in religious issues, but also that the colonial administration and local elites de facto formed an alliance, dominated by the Omani elite in political terms and the Alawī scholars in religious terms. These elites probably saw the Makunduchi affair triggered by Abdallāh āli al-Farsy as a welcome opportunity to teach the shamba Muslims of Zanzibar a lesson. In his official report to the Senior Commissioner of Police of 26 October 1949 with respect to the dhikr affair, the District Commissioner of Zanzibar Town, Sālim Muammad al-Barwānī, gave the following account: Sheikh Abdullah Salih Farsy of the Education Department wrote an article on ‘Dhikiri’ which appeared in the Mwongozi of 7-10-1949 in which he stated that Dhikiri as practised in Zanzibar would not be regarded as a form of prayers to replace the usual Muslim prayers. He did this as an answer to Sheikh Mahmoud of Makunduchi who had been reported as telling people that Dhikiri was one of the most important forms of prayers. Sheikh Mahmoud did not like this and he decided to call people who were believers in Dhikiri to tell them that Sheikh Abdulla Saleh was conducting a campaign to stop dhikiri. He also invited these followers to come to town on 17-10-1949 to demand an explanation from Sheikh Abdullah promising them that if Sheikh Abdulla failed to give reasons for his statements he would insult him in their 390 chapter seven

presence. The meeting in town was called for 4pm on 17-10-1949. I informed the Senior Commissioner and the police and went to meet these people who had already gathered at Hamamni near the mosque Baraza where Sheikh Abdulla was expected to go and meet them. They were about 200 at that time. I asked permission to be allowed to adress these people and when I was allowed to do this, I requested them to select 20 representatives to meet Sheikh Abdullah and they agreed. I arranged for Sheikh Abdullah to be escorted by (the) Chief Inspector (of the Police) Amor Zahor to the mosque where I had arranged for the Senior Kadhi (i.e. Sayyid Umar b. Sumay) to be present. The Senior Kadhi then told these visitors that they should communicate their questions through him and he would go into the points raised on the subject. There were a few questions asked but nothing happened at the mosque. Since this incident I have kept in touch with Sheikh Abdullah who informs me that this article has been very beneficial to many Muslims in Makunduchi where they had been hearing this preaching of Sheikh Mahmoud and that there has been an increased attendance in mosque since the publication of the article. In 1953, another avenue for his career opened. In March 1953, the British namely tried to find a successor for the office of the Qā ī of Wete. The former Qā ī of Wete, Alī b. Muammad ‘al- Abbāsī’ Bā Qashmar had died in March 1953. In that matter, the Secretary of the Arab Association in Pemba set up a list of candidates for the succession: Alī b. Muammad al-Burī from Tanga, Sulaymān (b. Muammad) al- Alawī Jamal al-Layl, Abdallāh āli al-Farsy and Sālim b. Alī al-Mundhirī. This list was later enlarged by the Arab Association of Pemba and sent to the Chief Justice as well as the Chief Qā ī. Further names were: asan b. Amīr al-Shirāzī (Tanga), Fatawi Issa b. Musa al-Shirazi (Makunduchi), Sa īd b. Alī b. Muammad al-Balūchī (Wete), Abū l-asan b. Amad Jamal al-Layl (Zanzibar), Yūsuf b. Alawī b. Yūsuf Bā Alawī (Kananbe, Pemba), Alī b. Khamīs b. Faqīh al-Shirāzī (Pemba) (ZNA AB 82/102; ZNA AB 22/102). In an appendix to this file, some candidates were shortly presented by Zanzibar’s Town District Commissioner: 1. el-Baluchi: has very good knowledge of the Sheria (sic). Also knows English. 2. Muhammad Alawi: very good knowledge of the Sheria. Can speak and write English. 3. Hasan b. Ameir: now in Tanganyika, worked as a Wakil in Kadhi’s court Zanzibar for many years. Has very good knowledge of Sheria; does not know English. the colonial period III: teachers 391

4. Sulayman Muhammad Alawi: very good knowledge of Sheria, but I do not think he would agree to go to Pemba; an excellent man. 5. el-Buhry: resides in Tanga, I am told that he was a Kadhi there but was asked to resign. Good knowledge of Sheria. 6. el-Farsy: religious inspector, education department. Very good knowledge of Sheria, speaks English but I am sure the Education Department cannot afford to release him (ZNA AB 82/102). In a letter of 20 June 1953 to the Chief Secretary, the Chief Justice mentioned that al-Farsy was seen as a suitable candidate by the Chief Justice as well as the Chief Qā ī. Yet, the DoE, Hann, in a letter of 17 June 1953 to the High Court had resisted Abdallāh āli al-Far- sy’s appointment: ‘It is clear that the Education Department is opposed to the appointment of Sh. Abdullah on the ground that it would be difficult to replace him in his present appointment’. Still, the Chief Justice maintained that the administration of justice should receive priority and suggested that Abdallāh āli al-Farsy’s name should be submitted to the Regent as preferred candidate for the position of Qā ī in Wete and that arrangements should be made to transfer al-Farsy to the Department of Justice. Al-Farsy’s salary should be raised from £420 to £450 (ZNA AB 82/102). Al-Farsy’s name was thus retained as a candidate for the position of Qā ī of Wete and his application was supported by the Chief Qā ī, Sayyid Umar b. Sumay. In a letter of 22 June 1953, the position of ‘Shafei Kathi, Judicial Department, Zanzibar’ was advertised and applicants were asked to apply (ZNA AB 82/102; ZNA AB 22/102). In the meantime, other scholars such as Abū l-asan b. Amad al-addār al-a ramī (B56) from Mombasa had been asked to apply as well (letter, 14.7.1953) and were also supported, in a letter of 12 August 1953, by Umar b. Sumay (ZNA AB 82/102). Al-Farsy eventually applied only after he was interviewed personally on 29 July 1953 by the DoE, Hann. In that interview he declared that he was willing to accept the position and confirmed this decision in a letter of 31 July 1953, saying that he ‘wished to be considered’. The British resident, in a minute of 11 August 1953, maintained that al-Farsy was doing very well in the Education Department but as he wanted the position of Qā ī of Wete it would be ‘wrong to keep him in the Education Department’, and Hann’s objections were turned down (ZNA AB 82/102). On 13 August 1953, the Chief Secretary to the Zanzibar Government informed al-Farsy that ‘His Highness has approved of your appointment as Kadhi with effect from the date of 392 chapter seven your relinquishing your duties with the Department of Education’ and informed him that he would get a higher salary and be posted to Wete. Subsequently, the DoE freed al-Farsy for his new job from 1 September 1953 (ZNA AB 82/102) and al-Farsy was appointed Qā ī of Wete by the British Resident as of 11 August 1953. His salary was fixed at an initial £255 only, however, rising by increments of ₤15 to a maximum of £450. An official letter of appointment was sent on 13 August 1953, and he was supposed to start work on 1 September 1953. Al-Farsy accepted this nomination, yet, argued that he ‘did not wish to accept the transfer to Pemba without an (immediate) increase in salary’ as had been discussed earlier. When al-Farsy eventually realized that the administration was not willing to immediately raise his salary to the promised maximum sum of £450 and that he was supposed to live in Wete on the lower salary, he rejected the position on 13 August 1953, a decision that was accepted by the British administration. As a consequence, the British appointed Abū l-asan b. Amad al-addār al-a ramī by a letter of 29 August 1953 (ZNA AB 82/102). Al-Farsy remained Supervisory Teacher for Religious Instruction and continued his work as teacher (ZNA AB 86/136). In 1956, the Mazungumzo ya walimu, the school journal of the GSS, recorded Abdallāh āli al-Farsy as a teacher at the GSS. On 1 January 1958, his title had been changed to ‘Master, Grade III (B6-5, formerly Supervisor Teacher)’ (ZNA AB 86/136). In January 1960, his career as government school teacher finally came to an end, however, when he reapplied for the job of a Shāfi ī Qā ī, this time in Unguja. He was to become deputy to Sa īd b. Abdallāh al- Azrī (B14), who had followed Umar b. Sumay as Chief Qā ī after the latter’s retirement in 1959/1960 (ZNA AB 86/136). From 1946-1960, Al- Azrī had been Ibā ī Qā ī of Chake Chake, and eventually came to occupy the position of Chief Qā ī until 1964, although in an ‘interim’ function only, until a suitable Shāfi ī candidate was found. Al-Farsy’s nomination as Deputy (not Chief) Qā ī in 1960 was possible, in fact, because four other candidates had rejected this position as long as Umar b. Sumay was still alive (IC73 and IC59, 22.8.2002). Umar b. Sumay allegedly encouraged al-Farsy to apply for this position. When Umar b. Sumay retired in 1959/60, the Sulān had asked him who could replace him, and he proposed Abdallāh āli al-Farsy, who had marifa ya dini, knew English (anajua kiingereza) and had studied ‘up to date’. Also he knew how to ‘speak and talk nicely’ (sema the colonial period III: teachers 393

kweli) and did not spread rumours (siowoga). Finally, he was not afraid to speak the truth and was ādil (just). As a result, the Sulān wrote a letter and asked Abdallāh āli al-Farsy to accept the position of Chief Qā ī. Al-Farsy accepted but realized that he could not continue his preaching as before. After one month, he resigned and resumed his former activities of teaching and preaching by radio, and gave sermons on Sunday, Monday and Saturday (IC59, 19.8.2004). The archival material does not substantiate this version of events, however, namely that al-Farsy was appointed and almost immediately resigned again, in the same way as Sa īd b. Damān (B41), who was offered the position of Chief Qā ī in 1925 after the death of Amad b. Sumay and who indeed worked in this position, but resigned after one week. Archival sources are perfectly clear that Abdallāh āli al-Farsy was appointed ‘Deputy Qā ī’ and that he accepted this position and stayed in office. This time, his appointment was made after further delays, on 18 March 1960, and was approved by Sulān Khalīfa b. ārub on 19 March 1960, and finally accepted by al-Farsy on 22 March 1960. He was to be in charge of the urban and rural districts of Unguja (ZNA AB 86/136) and continued to act as (Deputy) Qā ī until 13 July 1967. At the same time, he continued to teach Arabic at the TTC (Rajab 2001) and the GSS and to teach, until 1967, in his class at Mskiti Barza (Musa 1986: 59). After the revolution in 1964, the position of the Chief Qā ī of Zanzibar was taken by Fatawi Issa and al-Farsy commented rather bitingly on that decision, saying that ‘without any doubt, he is a leading scholar among the great scholars in these lands’ (Yalopokuja mapinduzi ya Unguja Shaaban 1383 -January 1964- mara moja alipewa Uchief Kadhi wa Unguja na Pemba. Hapana shaka, yeye ni mwanachuoni katika wanavyuoni wakubwa wa nchi hizi; al-Farsy 1972: 65). In contrast to many other scholars in Zanzibar, Abdallāh āli al-Farsy’s career was initially not affected much by the revolution. It has often been asked why he continued to stay in Zanzibar after the revolution, and continued his work in the DeptoE, as a teacher at Mskiti Barza, and as a Qā ī, since he had been closely connected with Alī Musin al-Barwānī, the ZNP, and Mwongozi, all major pillars of the pre-revolutionary regime. According to some of his students, who witnessed this time in Abdallāh āli al-Farsy’s life, there was in fact a rumour in the first days of the revolution that al-Farsy had been imprisoned, although he had continued to teach in the 394 chapter seven madāris and to conduct maghrib and ishā prayers. These rumours were supported by the fact that people could no longer hear his voice on the radio. When he gave a sermon on the radio on the eve of 1 Ramadan 1383 (15.1.1964) and announced that ‘by command of the President’ (wa amri ya rais), fasting would start from the next morning (16.1.1964), people were surprised and went to his house to con- gratulate him (IC59, 19.8.2004). A major explanation for Abdallāh āli al-Farsy’s continued career in revolutionary Zanzibar may have been the fact that he had taught numerous students, either in secular institutions, in Qur ānic schools, or in his evening classes at Mskiti Barza. As members of the revolutionary government, these students recognized his neutrality as a teacher and as a citizen. Also, Abdallāh āli al-Farsy may have been part of the arabophone elite, as were a number of leading revolutionaries, yet he was not a member of the Alawī scholarly establishment and even seems to have criticized the Alawī establishment at times, in particular their ideas of intellectual and racial superiority. Equally, he was Omani, yet not part of the ruling family or linked with the prominent families of plantation owners and politicians such as the al-Barwānīs. Karume, the ASP and Afrika Kwetu could thus easily sympathize with him. He was a respected scholar who was affiliated neither to the Omani political elite nor to the Alawī religious elite. The revolutionary government respected him, for the time being, as a scholar, and appreciated the fact that he had not discriminated against ‘colour’ (ubagozi) before the revolution (IC73, 22.8.2002; IC64, 10.5.2002; Musa 1986: 59; Bakari 1989, nd.). Abdallāh āli al-Farsy thus stayed in Zanzibar and continued his activities as a religious scholar. As his teachers were either dead or had emigrated, al-Farsy theoretically had a chance to rise in scholarly rank, yet, the revolutionary regime preferred to have a mshamba scholar, Fatawi Issa as Chief Qā ī. As a consequence, al-Farsy survived the revolution as Deputy Qā ī and became known as Khadi ndugu, ‘comrade qā ī’ (Glassman 2000: 422). In 1967, Abdallāh āli al-Farsy eventually left Zanzibar, a decision that may have been triggered by a nocturnal visit by Aboud Jumbe and a summons to the office of the Minister of Education, Ali Sultan Issa, in 1967, when Ali Sultan Issa summarily dismissed all four members of the Farsy family, including Abdallāh āli al-Farsy, from government service (IC64, 10.5.2002; IC82, 12.8.2002; see also chapter 9). In 1967, the political situation in Zanzibar also looked as if change for the better the colonial period III: teachers 395 was not about to come soon (IC20, 13.1.2002). Finally, the revolution in Zanzibar had caused upheavals in national institutions as well as in everyday life and such an atmosphere was hardly conducive to intellectual pursuits and scholarly activities (see chapter 9). In the end, Abdallāh āli al-Farsy left Zanzibar on 13 July 1967 and went to Dar es Salaam. He tried to find new work there, but failed, possibly due to the fact that the position of Chief Qā ī in Tanzania was about to be filled at that time by Alī b. Muammad (emed) al-Burī from Tanga, who was well connected with the ruling party, TANU and who was about to replace asan b. Amīr as the leading religious authority (see chapter 3). As a result, al-Farsy went to Kenya at the invitation of Muammad Qāsim al-Mazrū ī, the Chief Qā ī. Shaykh Qāsim also gave Abdallāh āli al-Farsy his address in Mecca, and following an invitation from Saudi Arabia, al-Farsy went to Mecca, where he performed his first ajj in March 1968. In Mecca, he came into contact with the Rābiat al-Ālam al-Islāmī, the ‘Muslim World League’, and was invited to become the mudīr of Umm al-Qurā University in Mecca, where he had applied for a position, but received no reply. Abdallāh āli al-Farsy subsequently applied for the position of the editor of the gazette of the Rābia and worked briefly for the Rābia in Medina, although he was never appointed editor. Finally, he received a telex offering him the position of Chief Qā ī of Kenya, as successor to Muammad Qāsim al-Mazrū ī (Musa 1986: 60). Muammad Qāsim al-Mazrū ī had already recommended al- Farsy for the position of Chief Qā ī, when he retired from this position in 1967, and again proposed him to President Kenyatta as his successor in 1968, ‘as there was no other scholar of comparable qualifications around’ (IC111, 10.7.2008). Abdallāh āli al-Farsy thus returned to Mombasa and never visited Zanzibar again. Kenya’s President Kenyatta phoned Karume to make sure that Abdallāh āli al-Farsy got his books and personal belongings from Zanzibar (IC59, 19.8.2004). In Mombasa, al-Farsy became a protegé of his old friend, fellow student and Chief Qā ī of Kenya, Muammad Qāsim al-Mazrū ī, who had been his host in the 1930s while Abdallāh āli al-Farsy studied with his father in Mombasa. Al-Farsy was granted Kenyan citizenship and Mombasa became his home as Chief Qā ī (Bakari, n.d.). From 29 May 1968 to 3 September 1981 he was Chief Qā ī of Kenya (al-Farsy 1972: 45). Due to bad health, he wrote a letter of retirement on 3 September 1981 and went for medical treat- 396 chapter seven ment to Oman, to join his family. He died in Muscat on 8 November 1982 (Musa 1986: 101). In Kenya, he started his work as Chief Qā ī with a series of inau- guration ‘parties’ in Nairobi, Mombasa and Malindi (Musa 1986: 65-6). In addition to his work as Qā ī, he taught in three mosques in Mombasa and managed to rapidly form a circle of disciples and followers, who listened to his teachings and preaching, especially in the month of Ramadan. In Mombasa, Abdallāh āli al-Farsy also managed to complete the translation of the Qur ān that he had started in Zanzibar. His translation of the Qur ān did not find undivided support, though: in particular the scholars connected with the Qādiriyya, as well as those connected with the Alawiyya tradition of learning and their spiritual centre in Lamu, the Ribā al-Riyā a, under the leadership of the sons, grand-sons and nephews of abīb āli, refused to acknowledge Abdallāh āli al-Farsy’s translation (Lacunza Balda 1997: 113 and 1993b: 234). As a matter of fact, al- Farsy had not consulted them or sought their approval, although he seems to have sent his work to some scholars before publishing and they seem to have commented on his text and suggested some changes (IC58, 20.2.2003). The Lamu-oriented scholarly establishment that was chiefly linked to the Alawiyya, refused, however, to accept his claim to spiritual guidance as conveyed by both his position as Chief Qā ī and his tafsīr, and responded with a text titled Fimbo ya Musa (Lamu, 1970) by Amad b. Alī al-Badawī. This text rejected al-Farsy’s theological positions, although al-Farsy had insisted on the allegoric interpretation of Qur ān 7:54 and a number of other āyāt (Lacunza Balda 1989: 235-7; Loimeier 2005a), which troubled Saudi scholars to such an extent that they have since tried to reformulate his tafsīr (IC72, 20.3.2003). His translation became the background for numerous polemics in Kenya, where ulamā refused to acknowledge his translation. His translation of the Qur ān was said to have major disadvantages, for instance, the extensive footnotes and comments that made it difficult to read (Bakari n.d.). Some sources have even claimed that Abdallāh āli al-Farsy had not personally written his tafsīr but had relied on earlier work, including the Amadī translation (IC26, 10.3.2003; IC13, 21.2.2003). Despite being the new Chief Qā ī, and even though he taught tafsīr and adīth in many mosques and madāris in Mombasa, Abdallāh āli al-Farsy continued to be regarded as an outsider in Kenya (IC59, 19.8.2004). Abdallāh āli al-Farsy had in fact been introduced the colonial period III: teachers 397 to Kenya by the Mazrū ī family and was confronted with strong opposition from Lamu, probably due to an old conflict between Lamu and Mombasa, and the influence of the Mazrū ī family in Mombasa, but more prominently due to the fact that Lamu had come to represent the most prominent centre of Islamic learning in mid- 20th century Kenya and resented the nomination of an outsider to a position such as that of the Chief Qā ī (IC28, 29.7.2004). In Kenya, al-Farsy continued to fight against all kinds of bida, such as hitima, the recitation of the Qur ān at the tomb of a deceased person as part of the mourning ceremonies (khitima pia ni uzushi), as well as the celebration of the mawlid that was also regarded as a bida.6 In particular, he was against all forms of the mawlid such as the mawlid al-abshī that had come to replace the mawlid Barzanjī (Lacunza Balda 1989: 247) and was cultivated in Lamu. In one of his last texts, bid-a, he was both quite explicit with respect to the question as to which ‘unislamic innovation’ he regarded as particularly ‘incorrect’ (yasiyokuwa), namely, some parts of the dalā il al-khayrāt, the mawlid barzanjī, the mawlid nūn, the mawlid daybā ī, the mawlid al-ibshī, the qaīdat al-burda, the hamziyya, the witriyya, the uradi wa nabhani as well as the wasīla, a dūā -prayer asking for tawassul (intercession) (al-Farsy 1981: 5ff). Al-Farsy also criticized the blind imitation (taqlīd) of established wisdom in Islamic law as well as the veneration of saints (Salim 1985: 118; Musa 1986: 65-6) and tried to introduce his students to the teachings of Muslim thinkers such as Ibn Taimiyya and Muammad b. Abd al-Wahhāb, or contemporary Muslim intellectuals such as Sayyid Qub and Abū l-A lā Maudūdī, who represented a literalist approach to the interpretation of texts, by contrast to the esoteric episteme which was well established in East Africa (Bakari 1989: 7). Due to his increasingly radical position in Kenya, Abdallāh āli al-Farsy’s life and career have often been divided by his contemporaries and biographers into two periods, namely a ‘moderate’ period before 1967, when he left Zanzibar, and a ‘radical’ period after 1968, when he moved to Kenya to become Kenya’s Chief Qā ī. Many observers (such as IC4, 13, 37, 64 and 73) have described al-Farsy’s time in Kenya as controversial and ambiguous; he was presented as

6 ‘Mawlid ya kupita hao watu mabora aliowasema Mtume’ (mawlid is a bida and it emerged after the passing away of those good people mentioned by the Prophet: al-Farsy, bid-a, sehemu ya kwanza, 26, 31-2; Lacunza Balda 1989: 244-6; Musa 1986: 65-6). 398 chapter seven somebody who often reacted to diverse (and contradicting) challenges; as somebody in a stage of transition, a torn man, who adopted different positions at different times. According to some, Abdallāh āli al-Farsy was a ‘relentless orthodox’, ‘who emphasized purism with respect to anachronistic ritual and religious observance’ (IC13, 21.2.2003). He was also seemingly radicalized by recent reformist thought. Some of his views were contested by local ulamā and were debated during evening seminars or wherever the opportunity presented itself (all Bakari n.d.). In Kenya, he was also said to have ‘become a sworn enemy of all those he considered innovators. The veneration of saints became one of the great anathemas in his eyes. To his opponents he remained a foreigner who had come to sow mischief among Kenyan Muslims’, whereas for his followers he became a radical und uncompromising representative of ‘orthodox’ Islam (Bakari n.d.). When his ideas of reform were attacked by the scholarly establishment in Lamu, he responded in kind in order to defend himself (IC73, 22.8.2002). At the same time, he was presented as a ‘moderate’ while in Zanzibar. In Zanzibar he allegedly did not talk openly about his ‘Salafi’ ideas as there were many eminent scholars in Zanzibar who were higher in rank and who would have probably criticized him. He became more outspoken only after 1964 and, in particular, after 1967, when his old teachers were either dead or had emigrated. His connection with al-Amīn b. Alī al-Mazrū ī did also not yet really inform his positions while in Zanzibar. According to Bakari (n.d.), his ‘controversial streak’ showed in Kenya only, but remained dormant in his Zanzibari times. As Qā ī in Zanzibar, he was not known for partisanship or any other sectarian views and al-Farsy even seems to have ‘reconverted’, in his last months, to moderate ‘Zanzibari’ positions in Oman (IC73, 25. and 27.2.2003). It is indeed possible that Abdallāh āli al-Farsy’s intellectual approach changed while in Kenya. However, in order to achieve a more balanced view of his life and legacy, some additional elements of interpretation should be added. The different views of Abdallāh āli al-Farsy in fact represent different historical approaches to his biography. Muslim reformers cultivated a different view of him than followers of the Qādiriyya and the Alawiyya, who have preferred to condemn his work under the impression of his ‘Kenyan’ period. The different representations of Abdallāh āli al-Farsy’s legacy can thus be seen as constructions which describe his ideas, life, work and legacy from a specific bias. Reformers tend to omit or de-emphasize the colonial period III: teachers 399 his role as a government scholar in colonial times, while his opponents tend to emphasize his ‘radical’ positions regarding Islamic reform in Kenya. When looking at Abdallāh āli al-Farsy’s life and legacy in context, however, it is first of all obvious that he always worked closely with the governments of his time, whether post-independence Kenyan, revolutionary Zanzibari or colonial British. At the same time, he was already rather outspoken in Zanzibar as far as some Islamic popular practices were concerned and even had to be defended in his radical stances by Umar b. Sumay against the attacks of Sufi scholars. The assumption that al-Farsy was moderate up to 1967 and did not become known for outspoken reformist positions while in Zanzibar (Bakari, n.d.) has to be revised thus. The division of his life into a ‘moderate Zanzibari’ and a ‘radical Kenyan’ phase omits, for instance, that he fought against specific features of ‘popular religious culture’ while in Zanzibar. Yet, al-Farsy seems to have confined his struggle against the bida in Zanzibar to his campaign against specific forms of the dhikr. He was not known, for instance, as being an opponent of mawlid ceremonies in Zanzibar. Rather the opposite: as an inspector of religious teaching he actually supervised the teaching of mawlid in Zanzibar government schools. In Kenya, al-Farsy continued to take part in mawlid celebrations that were, as a rule, recitations of the mawlid barzanjī, and he even led mawlid prayers in Mombasa (IC37, 21.2.2003). Even in Kenya, his ‘radical time’, he thus did not fight against the mawlid as such. Rather, he reacted against an Alawī tradition of performing the mawlid, namely, the Lamu-based mawlid al-abshī that was a form of the mawlidi ya dufu. But again: by speaking out against the mawlidi ya dufu he did not start something new, but rather followed the position of the previous Chief Qā ī of Kenya, Muammad Qāsim al-Mazrū ī (IC100, 22.5.2007). Consequently, his attacks against specific forms of the mawlid should be seen as being part of a campaign against his opponents in Kenya, rather than a campaign informed by a general religious reformist critique of all kinds of bida. His life thus evolved in a way that cannot really be divided into contradictory stages. Abdallāh āli al-Farsy’s struggle against the dhikr of the Qādiriyya in Zanzibar in the 1940s, for instance, shows that he had already adopted ‘radical’ positions in Zanzibar, while he refused, on the other side, to completely adopt ‘Wahhābī’ positions while in Kenya. The difference was that in Kenya he was fighting as 400 chapter seven a powerful outsider from a highly visible position, namely that of the Chief Qā ī, against the scholarly establishment, while in Zanzibar he fought together with other representatives of the Muslim elite as an accepted insider, but from a subordinate position. Thus, instead of describing him as a ‘torn’ person it might be better to say that he was not quite as radical in Kenya as his opponents in Kenya claimed, while he was not as moderate in Zanzibar as his followers in Tanzania claimed. From such a perspective, Abdallāh āli al-Farsy’s life and career are not as ambivalent as has been suggested. Essentially, he was a government scholar, a teacher, a qā ī, and a prolific writer and educator all his life. He fought against specific popular practices both in Kenya and in Zanzibar. In the end, Abdallāh āli al-Farsy is seen as a controversial figure through the eyes of his contemporaries, both friends and opponents, and due to divergent interpretations of his life and legacy by different religious and political groups.

7.4. Colonial Teachers III: Sayyid Umar Abdallāh

Like Abdallāh āli al-Farsy, but perhaps even more so, Sayyid Umar Abdallāh, also known in Zanzibar as ‘Mwinyi Baraka’, the ‘master of blessing’, may be characterized as a unique scholar and an enigmatic person.7 Sayyid Umar Abdallāh was of tremendous influence as a scholar, teacher and dāiya and he grew up in the two worlds of Western and Islamic education. In Zanzibar, East Africa and other parts of the Islamic world and even the West, he became famous for his sermons and speeches as well as his cordial personality. Yet, by contrast to Abdallāh āli al-Farsy, he has left almost no texts. Equally, biographical information on him is confusing in a number of respects, such as the question as to where he was actually born: some sources have erroneously claimed, for instance, that he was born in the Comoros, but was orphaned at an early age and then sent to relatives in Zanzibar in 1923 (Bakari 2003: 1). In many respects, Sayyid Umar Abdallāh also represented a different way of

7 Sources for this chapter were two personal files on Sayyid Umar Abdallāh (ZNA AB 86/47; ZNA AD 49/13), a text by Muammad (1992), Bakari (2006) as well as a number of personal communications. Muhammad Bakari was able to trace a copy of the B.Phil thesis Sayyid Umar Abdallāh wrote at Oxford University in 1963. In addition, there are references to him in al-Farsy (1972) and Ahmed (1999b). Unfortunately, Sayyid Umar Abdallāh never wrote his memoirs as did, for instance, Umar b. Sumay (Muhammad 1992: 12). See his picture on p.143. the colonial period III: teachers 401 teaching and approaching Islamic thought than, for instance, Abdallāh āli al-Farsy, although their lives criss-crossed many times. According to his personal file (ZNA AB 86/47), al-abīb Sayyid Umar Abdallāh (āl) Abī Bakr b. Sālim was born in Zanzibar in 1918 and died on 6 March 1988 (17 Rajab 1408) in the Comoros. Sayyid Umar Abdallāh confirmed these basic data in the context of a TV interview in Kenya (IC13, 20.2.2003 and 11.9.2004, see also Muammad 1992). In Zanzibar, he was first educated by his parents. In addition, he studied the Qur ān with Abd al-Fatā Jamal al-Layl, known as Sharīf Abbūd (Muhammad 1992: 2), who was one of the most respected qur ānic teachers in Zanzibar, a teacher of ‘iron discipline’ whose students usually managed to memorize the Qur ān after only three to five years due to his specific teaching method that was based on direct communication between teacher and student (Muhammad 1992: 2). Sharīf Abbūd also introduced Sayyid Umar Abdallāh into the teachings of the Qādiriyya (Muhammad 1992: 7). In his childhood, Sayyid Umar Abdallāh attended a number of evening classes in different mosques, even if Sharīf Abbūd’s mosque in Vikokotoni was the favourite class. In these classes he studied fiqh, Arab grammar, tafsīr, mawlid and its meaning, ‘which was a must by any mosque in the evening classes because it prepares children to know some way of life of the Prophet Muhammad, before they advance in adīth and sunna’ (Muhammad 1992: 3). He also learned some poems from some of the famous Hadrami scholars (Muhammad 1992: 3). He was particularly attracted to recitation of the mawlid. Mawlid classes prepared children to recite the sīra of the Prophet during the mawlid, in particular in the month of rabī al-awwal or for a awl. These ceremonies were also intended to teach the youth knowledge about these scholars and to train them to emulate their behavior in their quest for Islamic education. The evening classes in Zanzibar’s mosques were thus regarded by most parents as being compulsory for their children. Later, he studied with Umar b. Sumay, who also introduced him to the teachings of the Shādhiliyya (Muhammad 1992: 4), and Abū l-asan b. Amad Jamal al-Layl (al-Farsy: 1972: 61). Sayyid Umar Abdallāh was thus affiliated not only with the Qādiriyya and the Alawī network of scholars, but also with the Shādhiliyya (IC13, 21.3.2002). From 1928, he attended the GCS up to Standard VIII, then went to the GSS in 1936 for four years. The idea that Sayyid Umar 402 chapter seven

Abdallāh graduated together with Abdallāh āli al-Farsy (Bakari 2006: 363) and passed the Cambridge Overseas Syndicate Examination is misleading, since Abdallāh āli al-Farsy graduated in 1930. In fact, al-Farsy was six years senior to Sayyid Umar Abdallāh by birth (1912 as against 1918); their deaths were also six years apart (1982 as against 1988). Despite being almost contemporary and although the paths of these scholars often crossed, they remained in fact ‘worlds apart’: they respected each other and did not see each other as opponents or rivals, yet they represented different mindsets (IC13, 21.3.2002 and 20.2.2003). In 1939/40 Sayyid Umar Abdallāh was sent to Makerere for three years and returned to become a biology teacher at the RMS on 4 January 1943. Ali Hassan Mwinyi, the future President of Tanzania, was one of his students at ‘Dole’. In his free time, Sayyid Umar Abdallāh used to play football, as each school had a football team of its own (IC26, 8.8.2002). Besides he taught a darsa in Sharīf Abbūd’s mosque in Vikokotoni. Later, he taught at the ‘Beit el-Ras’ TTC. He also started to teach religious afternoon and evening classes in the college mosque and became a popular teacher and colleague at the college. On Fridays, he gave sermons (mawaidha) on Radio Zanzibar (Muhammad 1992: 4). In 1945, Sayyid Umar Abdallāh, still at ‘Dole’, together with Rajab imīd, asan b. ‘Shaykh’ Jamal al-Layl and Abdallāh āli al-Farsy, was appointed as a member of the committee that was asked to write a ‘Report on Religious Teaching’ (see chapter 6). The report contained a letter by Sayyid Umar Abdallāh to the DoE, Harvey, of 7 May 1945 which again showed how closely British administrators and local scholars were collaborating at this time: Dear Mr. Harvey, I have just received your circular in connection with Religious Teaching in Schools. Thank you very much. During the last vacation I resumed my discussion with the Chief Kadhi and at the end we arrived to a definite conclusion which I am sure you would like to hear. Since the beginning of this term I have been trying to come and see you at your office but in vain, as I am very busy throughout the week including Saturday. Could you kindly therefore fix me up on any one convenient Sunday so that I might come to see you in your home? Yours sincerely, Omar Abdallah (ZNA AD 3/8). In 1948, he did a refresher course in Makerere and in 1951, Sayyid Umar Abdallāh, together with Abdallāh Jahadhmī, was awarded a Zanzibar Government Scholarship for a three year diploma course in Islamic and comparative law as well as Arabic at SOAS. According the colonial period III: teachers 403 to a letter from the British resident in Zanzibar to the Secretary of State for the Colonies, dated 2 May 1951, ‘Sh. Omar Abdallah has headed the list of candidates recommended for scholarships by the Selection Committee since 1948, to take a course in Islamics and the Sharia law. It is proposed that Sh. Omar Abdallah should go to the London School of Oriental and African Studies to attend this Diploma Course, beginning in the coming Academic year, as a scholar sponsored and financed by the Zanzibar Government’. The object of the course was to train him to teach Islamics and sharīa law at the Muslim Academy which was about to be set up in Zanzibar (ZNA AB 86/47), as well as to prepare him for a career at the Muslim Academy, an issue that had been raised in a number of discussions in 1949 (ZNA AD 23/17, see chapter 8). Sayyid Umar Abdallāh’s trip to Britain was discussed by the British in a number of dispatches in 1950 and 1951 (ZNA AD 23/17), for instance in a letter of 16 February 1951, signed ‘Gray’, to Vincent Glenday regarding his taking a course at London University, and in a letter of 19 February 1951, by Prof. Vasey Fitzgerald, SOAS. In this letter, referring to a first letter of 27 December 1950, concerning Sayyid Umar Abdallāh and his taking a diploma course in Oriental law, Fitzgerald mentioned that SOAS would be in a position to give particular attention to Sayyid Umar Abdallāh (ZNA AD 23/17). Before assuming his role of principal of the Muslim Academy in Zanzibar, Sayyid Umar Abdallāh thus went to London, where he was supervised by David Cowan (‘al-Dundawī’) and R.B. Serjeant. Another supervisor, J.N.D. Anderson, seems to have opposed him (IC13, 11.9. 2004). His first year (1952) ‘colonial student annual report’ at SOAS, signed by J.N.D. Anderson, mentions ‘good work, adequate process, examinations passed but only just, one paper excellent, others fair, conduct very good’. In 1953, he went for a short educational trip to the US and applied for a course of Arabic in an Arab country in 1953: Sir, you may be pleased to hear that I have done well in my examination, and next year I hope to complete my course. I must thank the government for affording me this unique opportunity, being the first and the only student in the course. I am becoming a learned man. But you will agree that however high the standard of knowledge I get here, I shall not be really competent to hold any post involving the use of Arabic or Islamic law unless I spend some time in a country where Arabic is the language, and where Islam forms the background of the people. Here, there is no proper atmosphere...My stay in Arabia will be a shield against those who criticise my coming to London. It will 404 chapter seven

give me greater confidence, and I confess that I shall not be completely qualified for a responsible position without actually living in Arabia (ZNA AB 86/47, letter 30.6.1953). In the 1953 progress report from SOAS we read: ‘Mr. Abdullah’s work and progress continues satisfactorily. He is most at home in the Arabic texts. Obtained a pass in each paper’ (ZNA AB 86/47). The 1954 annual report remarked: ‘Passed satisfactorily the examination for the Diploma of this school in Arabic. Just fell short of gaining a mark of distinction’ (14.7.1954, signed Cowan). In Islamic Law the report said: ‘Passed comfortably in the examination for the 3rd year course for this diploma; seems to show a genuine interest in comparative studies’ (ZNA AB 86/47, 14.7.1954). Before his return to Zanzibar, Sayyid Umar Abdallāh again applied for a stay in an Arab country. In a letter to his supervisors on 14 December 1953, he said that he wanted to go on pilgrimage before returning to Zanzibar. Such a journey would also be good for his practice of Arabic: ‘moreover, I must confess that to maintain proper balance of my personality, I badly need a few weeks of intensive religious concentration after three years stay in highly materialistic surroundings’. This time, the British agreed, maybe because they wanted to have a credible Principal for the Muslim Academy, and on the way to Zanzibar, Sayyid Umar Abdallāh visited Mecca and the Hadramaut, a tour financed by the British (ZNA AB 86/47). In June 1954, his training at SOAS ended and Sayyid Umar Abdallāh was asked to become the new Principal of the Muslim Academy as successor of Muammad Muammad al-Dahhān, whose contract ended in September 1954 (ZNA AB 86/47; see chapter 8 extensively). The British had thought of Sayyid Umar Abdallāh as a candidate for the position of Director of the Muslim Academy in 1949 already and had finally decided, on 30 October 1951, that Sayyid Umar Abdallāh should be the next Principal of the Muslim Academy as soon as he was back from SOAS, although he had not been the ‘first choice’, as a letter of the Chief Secretary of 17 December 1950 showed: initially Abdallāh Ghosheh was the preferred candidate, and the British had also thought about Alawī Abd al-Wahhāb Jamal al-Layl and Abdallāh āli al-Farsy as assistants. In any case, Sayyid Umar Abdallāh was appointed education officer after his return to Zanzibar on 18 December 1954, and Principal of the Muslim Academy with effect from 18 December. As Principal of the Muslim Academy he soon recruited a number of well known local scholars to join the the colonial period III: teachers 405 regular staff as teachers of religious disciplines. In addition, he ‘produced many promising students most of whom are now in positions of influence in Zanzibar and abroad’ (Muhammad 1992: 5). The DoE supported him and the Muslim Academy in order to establish Zanzibar ‘as a centre of Islamic learning in the coastal zone of East Africa’ (ZNA AB 86/47, letter 31.8.1956).8 As Principal of the Muslim Academy, the colonial authorities sent Sayyid Umar Abdallāh on a number of official missions. In 1958 he thus traveled, together with Umar b. Sumay, to the Hadramaut for a period of three weeks in order to look for teachers for the Muslim Academy,9 and in 1960, he took part, as Principal of the Muslim Academy, in an African Conference on the Rule of Islamic Law in Nigeria. In 1961, Sayyid Umar Abdallāh was also asked to inspect the government Qur ān teachers, as successor to al-Farsy, but was unable to do so as he was on leave (ZNA AD 20/64). In 1961, his career in Zanzibar was interrupted again, as he got a Commonwealth scholarship grant to read for a B.Phil. at Oriel College, Oxford, for the period October 1961 to October 1963 (Bakari 2006: 365). For his research, he focused on four centres of Islamic learning, namely, Zanzibar, Northern Nigeria, Syria and Hadramaut. He contacted a number of religious scholars in these countries and gained access to their libraries. In Nigeria, he also met the Prime Minister of the Northern region, Ahmadu Bello (Muhammad 1992: 6). Equally, he came into close contact with the Qādiriyya, and as ‘the late Sayyid Omar Abdallah was an ardent member of Tarika Kadiriya’, he established close contact with this tarīqa in Northern Nigeria (Muhammad

8 Sayyid Umar Abdallāh’s favorite student in Zanzibar at that time was Muyī al-Dīn Abd al-Ramān Muammad who also wrote a book on prayers called al-adhkār wa-l-awrād (Muhammad 1992: 13) that was eventually presented to Sayyid Umar Abdallāh as a token of respect in 1983. In East Africa, he had many influential disciples such as Abdilahi Nassir in Mombasa, Shaykh Mamūd in Nairobi, Dr. Abdulkadir Shariff and Dr. Ahmad Khaīb who had been taught by him at the Muslim Academy (Bakari 2006: 368). 9 During his life, Sayyid Umar Abdallāh remained closely associated with Umar b. Sumay, who was ‘his right hand and his light and rescue at heart’ (Muhammad 1992: 11). Sayyid Umar Abdallāh also tried to emulate Sayyid Umar b. Sumay’s behavior, even in his Southern Arabian attire, a white kanzu and under it an inner layer consisting of a long white dress tied with two strings on the left hand side, and then ‘jubahas as top layers, open on two sides as well as a round cap surrounded with light white material to make a turban, as well as a white walking stick, plus perfume. This mode of dress was worn by most shaykhs in Zanzibar, Mombasa and Lamu and had become a piece of Zanzibar’s cultural heritage’ (Muhammad 1992: 11). 406 chapter seven

1992: 6), in particular, Nasiru Kabara, who appointed ‘Mallam Shehu Umar’ as his muqaddam in Zanzibar (see Loimeier 1997: 342). The experiences in Northern Nigeria seem to have impressed Sayyid Umar Abdallāh considerably, as he talked a lot about Northern Nigeria and the Qādiriyya as well as Ahmadu Bello’s hospitality after his return to Zanzibar (Muhammad 1992: 6). Sayyid Umar Abdallāh had been influenced by the Qādiriyya since his childhood in Zanzibar, and sometimes he led dhikr meetings when he was invited to do so (Muhammad 1992: 7). After his trip to Nigeria, Sayyid Umar Abdallāh went to Syria to meet Muslim scholars, among them, members of the Qādiriyya, the Shādhiliyya, Rifā iyya, Dasūqiyya and Naqshbandiyya. Finally, he did research in the Hadramaut to complete his B.Phil. He had already met many scholars during his first trip to Hadramaut in 1954, such as the Muftī of Hadramaut, Abd al-Ramān b. Ubaydallāh, who had been to Zanzibar as a guest of Umar b. Sumay. During his visit, Shaykh Ubaydallāh had visited a number of mosques and given sermons, while Sayyid Umar Abdallāh had acted as his translator. In Hadramaut, Sayyid Umar Abdallāh stayed in the mosque school of Tarīm (Muhammad 1992: 9). At that time, Tarīm was still following the model of ‘listening and obeying’ in individual tutoring courses until the teachers were satisfied with the progress of their students and granted them an ijāza (Muhammad 1992: 10). In Tarīm, Sayyid Umar Abdallāh acquired respect as an expert in Arabic grammar. Among the scholars he met were Amad al- Aās, whose sabīl al- muhtadin (‘the path of the rightly guided one’) was taught by Sayyid Umar Abdallāh in his mosque classes in Zanzibar (Muhammad 1992: 11). Also, he was initiated into the teachings of Alawī scholars such as Abdallāh b. Alawī al-addād or Umar b. Abd al-Ramān al- Aās, Abdallāh b. Alī b. Abubakar Sakrānī and Abdallāh b. Amad Bā Sūdān al-Mikdādī whose wird came to be practiced every Tuesday at Mskiti Jibrili in Zanzibar (IC26, 27.5.2004). On 17 June 1963, Sayyid Umar Abdallāh graduated in Oxford with a B.Phil. His thesis on medieval Muslim philosophers was titled ‘The concept of felicity in medieval Islamic philosophy’ ( Abdallāh 1963; Bakari 2006: 365) and discussed the works of al-Kindī, al-Farabī, Ibn Sina, Ibn Rushd, Aristotle, al-Ghazzālī, Plato and Bertrand Russell. In a chapter on the philosophy of education he maintained that ‘education is philosophy in action’, while ‘politics is philosophy the colonial period III: teachers 407 in practice’ ( Abdallāh 1963: 133). In ideal terms, the state should be directed by a ‘teacher-guide’, a muallim al-murshid ( Abdallāh 1963: 134). He finally returned to Zanzibar on 19 September 1963 and continued to work as principal of the Muslim Academy until 1964 (Muhammad 1992: 13). In the last personal report on him written before the revolution, dated 6 January 1964, the DoE, Hann, said: ‘Excellent conduct, interesting lively person, forceful speaker, administrative ability: not a strong feature; keen intelligence, professional or technical ability: good and effective teacher of religion; capacity for organization good, not enough attention to detail, excellent ability to cooperate with other officers; excellent relations with the public’. General remarks: ‘Sayyid Umar Abdallah has recently resumed the principalship of the Muslim Academy. In this capacity his forte is his teaching of religion and Arabic and the influence of his personality rather than his administrative abilities. As a teacher of and leader in religious matters he is much respected in the Academy and outside’ (ZNA AD 49/13). After the revolution in Zanzibar, the Muslim Academy continued to exist for some time (see chapter 8) and Sayyid Umar Abdallāh’s salary as Principal of the Muslim Academy was paid to him until June 1964. On 12 June 1964, the last entry was made in his personal file by Y.M. Juma, the principal assistant secretary (ZNA AB 86/47). In the context of the revolution, he was imprisoned for a period of two months in 1964, but personally released by Karume because he had been the teacher of many revolutionaries (IC13, 21.3.2002). After his release, Sayyid Umar Abdallāh continued to teach in Zanzibar, as other ulamā did, specializing in adīth, tafsīr and taawwuf. In 1968, he was imprisoned again for a period four months, but again he was liberated by Karume. There are traces of his activities in Zanzibar in 1967, when he represented a group of Qur ān teachers at a meeting with Abeid Amani Karume (see chapter 9). Thus, Sayyid Umar Abdallāh did not leave Zanzibar in 1965, as has been claimed by some sources, but probably went to the Comoros only in late 1968 (IC13, 11.9.2004). According to Abdallāh āli al-Farsy, Sayyid Umar Abdallāh left Zanzibar for the Comoros in (early) 1969 (1389; al-Farsy 1972: 61). After his arrival in the Comoros, where Umar b. Sumay had assumed the position of Muftī in 1967, after two years of residency in Hadramaut, Sayyid Umar Abdallāh was hired by the French colonial service as a teacher of English at the French Lycée in Moroni. Although he spoke Kingazija fluently, he was required to 408 chapter seven learn French before he could take this position. The French colonial administration granted him a fellowship to study French in Paris. He accepted and subsequently lived in the Quartier Latin for one year. After his return to Moroni, he was appointed teacher and also taught at his own mosque and madrasa. In the Comoros, he continued to take part in the mawlid barzanjī celebrations, although he criticized the tradition of the ‘grand marriage’, the ‘final marriage ceremony’, which was characterized by conspicuous spending of large sums of money. After the independence of the Comoros in 1975, and the subsequent take-over of power by Ali Soilih, he was appointed ambassador plenipotentiary for the Comoros for Islamic affairs (IC13, 11.9.2004, IC26, 27.5.2004 and IC81, 8.1.2007; Ahmed 1999b: 121 and 137). He served in this function until 1978, when the Soilih government was overthrown in a coup d´état. Despite having defended the ‘esoteric episteme’ all his life, he eventually agreed, in 1978, to work as a dāiya for the Rābiat al-Ālam al-Islāmī (IC81, 13.1.2002; ZNA AB 86/47). He had actually been recruited for the Rābia by Abdallāh Umar Naīf (b. 1939), scion of a family of rich traders and notables in Jiddah, who was elected general secretary of the Rābia in 1983 (Schulze 1990: 242ff), and who had been trained at the University of Leeds. Sayyid Umar Abdallāh had met him while in London (IC13, 11.9. 2004). As a dāiya of the Rābia he often taught in Kenya, especially in the month of Ramadan, and repeatedly met Abdallāh āli al-Farsy, although their relationship was ‘worlds apart: they respected each other and did not see each other as opponents’ (IC13, 21.2.2002). He attracted large crowds of followers to the mosques where he taught and preached. In his sermons which were recorded for the sake of the women at home, he remained critical of the literal interpretation of the Qur ān. In his late years, he was increasingly drawn, however, into Sufi-Wahhābī disputes, often started by graduates from the University of Medina who taught in new madāris that had been set up by the Rābia with Saudi funds. After 1968, he traveled widely in Africa, Europe and America, often invited by local Muslim organizations, transcending local, racial, national and ethnic boundaries, preaching a message of tolerance and peace to his audience, and converting a number of Europeans and Americans to Islam. In 1981, for instance, Sayyid Umar Abdallāh traveled to South Africa and also gave lectures at the American University in Cairo (IC13, 11.9. 2004). Sayyid Umar Abdallāh died the colonial period III: teachers 409 on 6 March 1988 (17 Rajab 1408) in the Comoros due to diabetes (Muhammad 1992). The biographies of the colonial teachers presented in this chapter reflect the ‘generational’ development of Zanzibar’s educational system, as has been shown in chapter three with respect to different traditions of Islamic learning. Essentially, three ‘generations’ of teachers can be distinguished, each marked by specific experiences in a distinct period. A first generation of ‘colonial teachers’ from the early 20th century to the late 1920s can be regarded as the ‘pioneers’ of government school education. They were the first Zanzibaris who worked in British government schools and tried to translate British educational concepts into Zanzibari realities. Often, these teachers, such as āmid Manab, were members of a family of religious scholars and did not always agree with British educational methods, as shown by a conflict over school discipline in the early 1920s in which the British colonial administration was about to risk the humiliation of a major body of Zanzibari teachers (less than 50 at that time). The fact that the British colonial administration allowed the teachers to express their anger and frustration with G.B. Johnson’s highhanded ways and eventually transferred G.B. Johnson from everyday school responsibilities to a supervisory position may have contributed considerably to an increasing identification of Zanzibar’s first generation of teachers with the British government schools. A second generation of teachers, mostly hired in the 1930s and 1940s, was not only educated by enlightened British educators such as Lawrence William Hollingsworth, but also by their Zanzibari peers. These teachers integrated fast into the government school system and increasingly identified with the government school, including its rules of discipline and formal procedure, as exemplified in the career of Abdallāh āli al-Farsy as ‘Inspector of Religious Instruction’. This second generation of teachers and mediators, as has been shown in chapter 6, also witnessed the emergence of a ‘proper’ syllabus of ‘Islamic Religious Instruction’ (IRI) defined by Zanzibari religious scholars, as well as the integration of the Qur ānic schools into the government school system. The second generation of teachers was thus already able to regard the government schools as ‘their’ schools. Identification with the government schools increased in a third generation, to the extent that teachers such as Bibi Samīra consciously sought complete control over government schools and their development and were prepared to fight for their ‘rights’ regarding leave, promotion or salaries 410 chapter seven with the British protectorate administration. The government schools, in their eyes, had become ‘Zanzibari’ and the role of the British was increasingly seen as fast fading away. However, the revolution of 1964 redefined the framework of education policies and the development of schools, syllabuses and teachers, as will be shown in the next two chapters. The process of redefining education was not achieved, though, by the third generation of pre-revolutionary Zanzibari teachers, many of whom left Zanzibar as a result of Karume’s anti-intellectual policies. From 1964, Zanzibar’s schools were staffed with East German and Chinese teachers. They formed a new generation of revolutionary teachers, who have since rewritten education in Zanzibar. The muslim academy 411

CHAPTER EIGHT

THE MUSLIM ACADEMY

8.1. Zanzibar’s First ma had

A major factor in the development of modern Islamic education in Zanzibar was the establishment of the Muslim Academy. While in East Africa in general, and in Zanzibar in particular, the Muslim Academy is often seen as a unique feature of the development of Islam in East Africa, the actual idea for the development of such a Muslim institution of higher learning was linked to British experiences with the development of modern Islamic education in India, Sudan and Nigeria (see chapter 4). These Indian experiences, in terms of both institution building and syllabus development, were in fact transmitted in the 1930s, to both Sudan, where the Bakht al-Rū a Institute of Education was established in 1937/38, and Northern Nigeria (see also chapter 4). In Northern Nigeria, the Kano Native Administration Law School (est. 1935) was transformed in 1947 into the School of Arabic Studies for teacher training and training of staff for positions in local administration and jurisdiction (sharīa courts). The ‘Nigerian connection’ was spelled out clearly in a letter of 3 September 1951 from the Principal of the School of Arabic Studies, Charles Whitting, to the DoE in Zanzibar, Babb. The letter explained that the British government had assumed control over the Kano Native Administration Law School on 1 April 1947 and transformed it into a School of Arabic Studies to meet the demand for legal experts and Arabic teachers. The letter gave details of the syllabus and concluded: The above will give you a start off. If you want any more information please don’t hesitate to ask. On the whole this show is a success. It is really intended to stopgap till Ibadan University can function for the subjects concerned. Meanwhile to me the main point is that, for the first time in its history, the Department is getting some properly trained Arabic teachers. What we would have given for them in the old days (ZNA AD 23/17)! 412 chapter eight

The connections between Zanzibar and Northern Nigeria, and hence British models of Islamic education as developed in Sudan and India, were important not only for the foundation of the Muslim Academy but also for the further development of the academy, under the guidance of the second Principal, Sayyid Umar Abdallāh, who visited Northern Nigeria in 1960. The original plans to make the Muslim Academy the major institute for Muslim higher education in East Africa eventually failed, however, as the different East African countries were not prepared to accept Zanzibar’s leadership in modern Islamic education. In addition, the 1964 revolution disrupted the development of the Muslim Academy. The history of the Muslim Academy as presented in this chapter can be divided thus into three distinct stages: genesis and foundation from the late 1940s up to 1954 (chapter 8.1.), a period of routinization under Sayyid Umar Abdallāh from 1954 to 1964 (chapter 8.2.), and a new start in the early 1970s as an ‘Islamic school’ (Chuo Cha Kiislamu) that was supposed to train cadres for the administration of religious affairs (schools, legislation, awqāf) as defined by the revolutionary government of Zanzibar (chapter 8.3.). The closure of the Muslim Academy in 2007 brought this endeavour to an untimely end.1 The idea of setting up a Muslim Academy in Zanzibar was first addressed in a letter of 12 July 1948 by the DoE, Harvey, who wrote an extensive memorandum on a possible ‘Muslim Seminary’ (ZNA AB 23/17). This memorandum can be viewed as the founding charter of the Muslim Academy and is thus quoted here in detail: Notes on proposed Muslim seminary to be established in Zanzibar: 1. Aims: (1) Teaching of Higher Arabic, (2) Islamic law, (3) Islamic religion. In view of the negligible number of Arabs in East Africa who really speak the language (1) must precede (2) and (3) by at least a year, since the two latter cannot even be started without a very thorough knowledge of Arabic. One man will be required for this.

1 The major sources for this history of the Muslim Academy were the ZNA files, in particular ZNA AD 13/8, ZNA AD 20/71 and 74, ZNA AD 23/17, ZNA AD 23/21, ZNA AD 1/137 and ZNA AD 29/74, which also cover the post-revolutionary period, in addition to the BA series, in particular, ZNA BA 5/22, 5/28, 5/29, 5/32, 5/34, 6/28 and BA 58, which contain the annual budget speeches of the ministers of education with statistical data up to 2007, and finally the PRO files, especially PRO BW 90/71. Ziddy’s thesis (2001) and journals such as al-Falaq and al-Nah a were other important sources, as were discussions with Muslim Academy staff. The muslim academy 413

2. The chief object in teaching Islamic law would be to produce men capable of filling the posts of Kadhis and Liwalis throughout East Africa. When the present holders retire there appear to be no local candidates whatever for these posts and the only alternative to local training would be the appointment of men from outside East Africa at very considerable costs or to send every potential candidate away for training. Though there are various branches of Isla- mic law, it is probable that one man of real learning should suffice as a teacher. 3. The main reason for teaching Islamic religion is that the culture of this Protectorate and the neighbouring coast is predominantly Muslim, it is therefore essential that that culture should be maintained and improved. It would not be the aim of the Seminary to train ordinary Koran teachers or religious teachers for schools, but to turn out a small number of really learned and pious men who would give an impetus to Islam. Again, though there are at least two main aspects of religious teaching, one really good man should suffice. 4. It will therefore be necessary to import three teachers from outside East Africa. Though the objections to Egypt are obvious, there appears to be a consensus of opinion that al Azhar is the only place from which suitable men can be obtained, certainly as regards the Sunnis. It should, however, be possible for the Embassy to select men of learning who are not interested in politics. Though there will be three aspects of the teaching, it is likely in practice that there will be considerable fluidity in regard to the subjects taught by the three men. For that reason they should be selected as a team, though the Arabic teacher should come on ahead. 5. In view of the importance of welding rather than divorcing English and Arabic culture in East Africa, it is highly desirable that candidates for the Seminary should have reached a fairly high level of secular education before entry. 6. Of equal importance is to ensure that the Seminary should not be so isolated from the outside world as to become intellectually ste- rile. It should be close or even attached to one of the larger mosques and, on the legal side, it might be possible for students to obtain a practical knowledge of the working of the Kadhi’s courts and to attend the High Court when matters of Islamic law are involved. 7. It is also highly desirable that a study of material culture should be given an important place in the curriculum. The obvious centre for this would be the Museum, but a considerable increase in the buildings and a full time curator would be necessary. 8. Equally, the three Arab teachers in the seminary could be appointed on a short term contract, probably for four or five years, while local men were sent to al-Azhar for training so as to take their place. 414 chapter eight

9. Since the scheme is designed only for small numbers and will certainly be experimental in its earlier stages there will be no need for an elaborate building. In fact, it would be undesirable since what is primarily a religious foundation should have about it something of the ascetic. 10. The term seminary has been used throughout these notes since it has an essentially religious connotation, but it is not entirely suitable, especially as it implies a seclusion which is to be avoided. Other possible titles are Muslim Cultural Institute, since on a small scale it will be complementary to the Mombasa Institute which is essentially technical. Muslim Cultural Centre might also be used, but none of these terms seems exactly right. 11. The following is a very tentative estimate of costs over five years which should cover the period of importation of staff from outside and the training of local men to take their place (The figures given were 6,500 Pound Sterling for capital expenditure, and 18,750 PS for recurrent expenditure, an annual average of 3,750 PS for the first 5 years, RL) (ZNA AD 23/17). In further letters of 27 April 1949 and 13 September 1949, the DoE detailed these proposals for the sake of the Chief Secretary, explaining that after discussing matters with the Chief Justice, ‘we are agreed that it is desirable that the Academy should be established at an early date and that the first step should be the appointment of a lecturer’. The Chief Judge pointed out, however, that the Palestinian teacher, Abdallāh Ghosheh, who had been proposed as a first lecturer at the Muslim Academy in these discussions, would probably be anafī, while the majority of the students would be Shāfi ī. Also, the Ibā ī students should be taken into account. Provided, however, that these problems could be settled, it was agreed to proceed with the engage- ment of the Palestinian lecturer, to acquire a suitable building for the academy, and to order the necessary textbooks from Egypt. On this question the Chief Justice would be consulted as well as the Chief Qā ī and Abdallāh āli al-Farsy. A preliminary selection of fifteen suitable candidates as students for final interview and selection might be made by an ad hoc board composed of the lecturer, the Chief Qā ī and Abdallāh āli al-Farsy (ZNA AD 23/17). At the same time, it would be desirable to define the status of the lecturer, and to settle questions concerning quarters for the lecturer and the students, and the subsistence of students. In the eyes of the Chief Justice, the purpose of the academy was to produce men (ZNA AD 23/17), The muslim academy 415

who would be able to take their place as satisfactory wakils in Kadhis’ Courts and from whom in due course Kadhis might be selected. I submit it should be made clear from the start, that the Academy is not just another Government Training School. Also: Will the Palestinian Lec- turer be able to instruct in all three subjects, i.e. Higher Arabic, Islamic law and Islamic Religion, or will it be necessary to engage a second lecturer in 1951. In either case, since these men will be coming here on contract, arrangements will have to be made for the training of locally domiciled staff. In his note of 13 September 1949, the DoE then continued, with respect to the question of the future principal of the academy and plans for sending him to Iraq for further studies: Sayyid Umar Abdallah has been mentioned. His Honour the Chief Justice is of the opinion that the standard of the College in Iraq is too elementary for Sayyid Umar Abdallah to benefit from a course there. The same applies to the kulliyat al-sharia in Lebanon. His Honour suggests that possibly the best course might be for Sayyid Umar Abdal- lah to attend the Academy as a pupil-teacher (ZNA AD 23/17). In a further letter to the Chief Secretary of 29 September 1949, the DoE remarked that he intended to nominate a lecturer for the Muslim Academy soon. On 5 October 1949, the Chief Secretary replied: ‘I am directed to inform you that it is now proposed to offer the appointment to the Palestinian candidate (Sheikh Abdullah Ghosheh) provided that he belongs to the Shafei sect’. The Chief Secretary also maintained that it would be ‘necessary to get Standing Finance Committee’s general approval of the project before this appointment was offered’ (ZNA AD 23/17). First estimates were also made regarding the costs of building and maintaining the academy on the assumption that a permanent staff of two lecturers (and two pupil- teachers) was all that would be required. The sum of all expenditures, such as alterations to the building, rent, maintenance, quarters, salaries, passages, gratuities, pupil teachers, furniture, books and lodging allowances, was estimated at ₤2,352 for 1950 as the first year and ₤11,938 for the first five years. In a letter of 24 November 1949 to the Chief Secretary, the DoE repeated that he was anxious that the Muslim Academy should be started as soon as possible (ZNA AD 23/17). The Muslim Academy project was also discussed in the context of a number of meetings in the Department of Education in Shangani and exchanges of letters from 27 April 1949 to 5 October 1949, and this discussion was resumed on 10 December 1949 in the 416 chapter eight presence of the DoE, Sa īd b. Alī al-Mughayrī, Sayf b. amūd Fayal, Muammad b. Nāir (Sulaymān) al-Lamkī, Abdallāh b. Sulaymān al-arthī, Ameir Tajo and Umar b. Sumay. They decided to send Sayyid Umar Abdallāh to London for further studies, abandoning ideas of sending him to Iraq or Lebanon. After the meeting of 10 December 1949, the Chief Secretary wrote a letter to the DoE, suggesting the following steps: With reference to the proposed establishment of a Muslim Academy in Zanzibar, I am directed to request that you will convene, during the forthcoming session of the Legislative Council, a meeting of the following gentlemen to discuss matters connected with the proposed academy: Said Ali Mugheiry, Sayf Hamud Faysal, Muhammad Nassor Sulayman Lamki, Abdallah Sulayman Harthi, Ameir Tajo and Sayyid Umar b. Sumayt. His Highness’ Government wishes to ascertain the views of the leading Arabs on the following three main points: teaching staff, accommodation, students, for the academy (ZNA AD 23/17). The next meeting was duly arranged and took place in the office of the DoE on 17 December 1949. The minutes of this meeting mentioned among other things that although the Chief Qā ī had not been able to come, ‘all gentlemen’ supported the establishment of a Muslim Academy and expressed the following views: 1. The qualification of Sheikh Abdallah Ghosheh (as principal) appears to be quite satisfactory, he should be offered the appointment. 2. There was a general feeling that Sayyid Umar Abdallah is not the most suitable local candidate who could be found for the position of assistant. The Chief Kadhi mentioned Sharif Alawi Abd al- Wahhab, while the other gentlemen favoured Shaykh Abdallah Salih. The opinion was that whoever is selected should be sent abroad for further training. 3. It was agreed that it was necessary to have a third teacher who will be able to instruct Ibadi law. The name of Abu Ishaq, a respected teacher in Egypt (though not an Egyptian) was mentioned (this teacher was Abū Isāq Ibrāhīm b. Muammad b. Ibrāhīm al-afayyish, RL). 4. It was agreed that a large Arab house such as that recently occupied by the French Vice-Consul, would be quite suitable. Part of the house should be reserved for the Principal and his family. 5. It was also agreed that it would be unwise to specify too closely the qualifications necessary for admission. A major question was whether students who knew Arabic would be admitted (yes). 6. Finally, the question was raised as to which form of certificate would be given to those who completed the Academy (ZNA AD 23/17). The muslim academy 417

In a letter of 20 June 1950 to the DoE, the Chief Secretary remarked with respect to recruitment of teachers that the British Ambassador in Cairo had agreed to help to find suitable candidates at al-Azhar. The Palestinian candidate, Abdallāh Ghosheh, had obviously been turned down by that time because he belonged to the anafī madhhab. The Chief Secretary also reported that the house in Mkunazini which had originally been intended as a building for the academy was not available. He had thus investigated the possibility of getting the Usagara House opposite the Africa Bar. Finally, he wanted to get more information concerning the question of local instructors: ‘Is it intended to await the appointment and arrival in Zanzibar of the Headmaster before any action is taken to appoint local instructors or would it not be advisable to decide who would be the most suitable person or persons for the job?’ (ZNA AD 23/17). At the same time, letters were exchanged between the Zanzibar Secretariat and the Chancery of the British Embassy in Cairo concerning the temporary appointment of a shaykh from al-Azhar, Muammad Mu - ammad al-Dahhān, to the post of Principal of the Muslim Academy until such time as Sayyid Umar Abdallāh should have completed his diploma course. The letter of appointment with details of salary, gratuities and passages, was sent to Muammad Muammad al-Dahhān on 4 May 1951: ‘Sir, I am directed to offer you an appointment as principal of a Muslim Academy in Zanzibar on the following terms: The appointment will be on agreement for one tour of 24 to 36 months’ residential service in the first instance but may be extended for a further tour of service’ (ZNA AD 23/17).2 Muammad Muammad al-Dahhān (B40) thus became the first Principal of the Muslim Academy (see his picture on p. 143). Accord- ing to the Golden Jubilee number of the The Samachar in 1952, which reproduced his CV, as substantiated by an article in al-Nah a on 27 November 1952, Muammad Muammad al-Dahhān was born on 25 March 1917 in Maallat al-Kubra, Western Mudīriyya, Egypt. He was from a family of shurafā through al-usayn, went to the

2 Despite the appointment of Muammad Muammad al-Dahhān to the post of Principal of the Muslim Academy on 27 September 1951, the Muslim Academy did not yet have a building in 1951 or for most of 1952. Before the renovation of the building in Forodhani, which had been home to the SESM, was completed, the Mus- lim Academy was accommodated in the Ministry of Education and then moved, on 17 November 1952, to Forodhani. In 1950 the SESM had moved to its new building near the fire station on Creek road, which was to become the Haile Selassie School in 1964. 418 chapter eight

Madrasat al-Hidāyat al-Islāmiyya, where he completed his elementary education and memorized the Qur ān; he then joined the Institute of Religious Education in Maallat al-Kubra, where he took preparatory courses for the entrance exams to al-Azhar. He joined the Amadī Institute in ana, where he studied Shāfi ī law and graduated successfully. At that time, his father died, but he continued to study at al-Azhar in the Faculty of Religious Studies where he attended advanced courses in ulūm al-dīn, Qur ān, philosophy, logic, kalām, psychology, ethics and history, and passed his examinations with distinction. While he was studying, he was appointed imām and khaīb of Fusā mosque. He subsequently joined the Teacher Training Department in the Faculty of Arabic at al-Azhar, where he took courses in psychology, pedagogy, history, ethics and school hygiene, and was finally granted an ‘ Alamiyya and Licentiate’ teaching diploma. Having finished his courses at al-Azhar, he went on pilgrimage. After his return, he was first appointed teacher of Arabic for government schools, later also professor of Arabic and religious sciences at al-Azhar. As an al-Azhar graduate he was selected by al- Azhar to be seconded to Zanzibar to become the first Principal of the Muslim Academy. He arrived in Zanzibar on 12 September 1951. From 25 November 1953 until mid 1954, al-Falaq published a series of 32 articles titled li-fa īla al-shaykh Mu ammad Mu ammad al-Dahhān by Muammad Muammad al-Dahhān, who was presented as a ‘researcher from al-Azhar’ (mabaūth al-Azhar). In these articles, al-Dahhān lectured, among other things, on the question of Palestine, or the tafsīr of the Qur ān, and explained both the ‘weekly adīth’ ( adīth al-usbūa al-dīniyya) as well as themes such as the hijra in the Qur ān. Muammad Muammad al-Dahhān allegedly also organized the first grants for students to go and study at al- Azhar (IC72, 16.7.2002). The 1952 annual report of the DeptoE duly recorded the foundation of the Muslim Academy, the Mahad al-Islam bi-Zanjibar (ZNA BA 5/22): ‘The Muslim Academy, under the principalship of Shaykh Muhammad Muhammad al-Dahhan, a graduate of al-Azhar University, Cairo, opened its doors on April 21st 1952. 25 students were enrolled and they will follow a 5-year course in Arabic and Islamics. Students have a variety of educational backgrounds but a fair knowledge of Arabic was a prerequisite for admission’. In September 1952, the first term started. The curriculum included Qur ān, Arabic, tajwīd, taawwuf, maniq, fiqh, tafsīr, adīth and akhlāq (ethics), as well as English and Sports. From 1953 ‘theology’ The muslim academy 419

(taw īd) and sīra were added (ZNA BA 5/22). In the first year, the academy had one Principal (mudīr) and two teachers. The institution was to improve middle school education as well as Arabic language training. Each year, twenty students were to be accepted from Zanzibar and East Africa. The conditions for acceptance included knowledge of Arabic, a condition which many Arab candidates did not fulfil. Admission was nevertheless granted, however, by a search committee consisting of the leading scholars of Zanzibar, a representative of the colonial administration, and Abeid Amani Karume as representative of the African Association3 (IC64, 10.5.2002; Ziddy 2001: 16). On 27 September 1951, only two weeks after Muammad Muam- mad al-Dahhān’s arrival, the DoE held a meeting to discuss matters connected with the Muslim Academy.4 At the meeting, Muammad Muammad al-Dahhān gave his views concerning the foundation of the academy. It was decided that all views should be put down in a memorandum and sent to the DoE for comments. Also, the members agreed to appoint a committee to advice on the selection of the first nineteen students to be admitted to the academy (ZNA AD 23/17). Regarding the development of the Muslim Academy, this memorandum of 27 September 1951 as signed by Muammad Muammad al-Dahhān remarked: 1. A school should be opened to feed the Academy. This should concentrate on Arabic and Religion, plus the syllabus of the Govern- ment school, yet the language of instruction should be Arabic instead of English. The school should have a six year curriculum on completion of which pupils would be awarded certificates that would qualify students to enter the Academy. This preparatory school should be under the Principal of the Academy. 2. The course at the Academy should be of a duration of five years, subjects should be fiqh, tawhid, hadith, tafsir, Islamic history, the history of the Prophet, grammar, sarf, composition, poetry, reading, calligraphy, dictation, tajwid, religious character training plus English as an optional language from the third year.

3 The first ‘non-Arab’ student who, on the insistence of Abeid Amani Karume, was accepted as a student at the Muslim Academy in 1953 was in fact a ‘Comorian’, Othman Miraji Othman (IC64, 10.5.2002). 4 Present were the DoE, Muammad Muammad al-Dahhān, Sayf b. amūd Fayal, Muammad Nāir Lamkī, Ameir Tajo, Abdallāh b. Sulaymān al-arthī, Sulaymān al- Alawī Jamal al-Layl, Abdallāh Muammad a ramī, Muammad b. Abubakar Abdallāh, Abd al-Ramān Muammad Abbūd, Alī Musin al-Barwānī, Sharīf Muammad Alawī, Abdallāh āli al-Farsy and Sa īd b. Rashīd al-Ghaythī. 420 chapter eight

3. The government should select among the successful graduates of the academy candidates who would go on to study at al-Azhar in order to pursue higher studies there. Those who complete these higher studies successfully should be eligible for appointment as Kadhis and as teachers in the academy and secondary schools. They will also be qualified people to give opinions on religious matters. Those, who do not go to al-Azhar should become qualified to teach Arabic and religious subjects in the preparatory schools as well as the government primary schools, they should also be qualified to lead prayers, to lecture and to teach in mosques. 4. The government should seek the aid of al-Azhar by requesting al- Azhar to send teachers to teach at the academy the disciplines enu- merated above. As for the teachers in the preparatory school, these could be selected among capable teachers of Arabic and religious studies in Zanzibar, while the teachers of the secular subjects could be seconded from government schools. 5. The academy should have a hostel attached to it to keep the students settled down comfortably (ZNA AD 23/17). The DoE replied to these propositions in a letter of 11 October 1951 that the government indeed intended to establish an ‘Arabic speaking, Arabic taught primary school’ in Zanzibar. The site had already been chosen. This school might become a ‘feeder’ for the academy. The DoE confirmed that the course of studies at the academy should take five years. On the other side, there were no plans to send students to al-Azhar for further studies. This question would be considered sympathetically though by the Government should the time arise. Also, no further support from al-Azhar was sought at present and the academy was definitely not supposed to become such a large institute as was proposed by al-Dahhān. Thus, there would not be an annual intake of more than fifteen students. In addition, two teachers would go annually to take a year’s (refresher) course in Arabic, in order to be able to continue as Arabic teachers at the Arabic-speaking and Arabic-taught primary school. Finally, the DoE added that the academy was regarded, for the time being, as an experiment (ZNA AD 23/17). In a letter of 5 August 1952, translated from Arabic to English by Sa īd Hilāl Bualy, Muammad Muammad al-Dahhān raised the question of an assistant teacher, as the first year students would proceed to the next year and a new second year would start in September 1952. This letter got a rather acid response from the DoE on 25 August 1952: The muslim academy 421

The academy has been open for 4 months only. I cannot understand how it is that the first year’s syllabus has been completed; either the syllabus is too easy or the standard of work of the pupils at entry was much higher than the results of the entrance examination you gave them suggested to you. I should like your explanation of the position: As you have been told many times, it is not Government’s intention to take in a new class every year. As it appears that you have not even now understood the situation I repeat once again that your duty is to take your present class through a 5 year course. The question of a new entry every year does not arise. I should like a report of the first term’s work on individual students and also to be informed of the subjects you have taught. With reference to the request to write books on al- mahfuzat (ma fūāt), al-imla (al-imlā ), al-sirat al-nabawiyya, al-muta- laat (al-muālaāt), al-nahw and al-sarf and for government to pay you a reasonable amount for every book I do not consider that you have the time for this if your students are to be properly taught (ZNA AD 23/17). This letter was answered by a delegation of the Arab Association that took up the issue of the Muslim Academy in a meeting with the British Resident and the DoE on 30 December 1952. The delegation consisted of Abdallāh b. Sulaymān al-arthī, Sayf amūd Fayal, Hāshil b. Rashīd al-Miskirī and Muhannā Naor al-Rawwāī. The delegates stated that the Muslim Academy needed more space to accommodate additional students who were waiting for entry. Also, three additional teachers should assist the Principal. The Resident expressed some surprise at this request as the DoE had already had difficulties to find the (24) candidates of suitable qualification for the first year and remarked that he had inquired where they were going to get the three additional masters, and ‘was told that they could be found locally’: I again expressed surprise at this stating that I did not know any local person who was suitably qualified. Moreover, if there had been such a person why was it necessary to import Shaykh M.M. Dahhan at such trouble and expense from Egypt. They then suggested that whilst there was no suitably qualified person locally to teach general subjects, what was really required was two additional teachers to teach religion as Dahhan was a Sunni and thus not qualified to teach Ibadhis or Shiis. This argument was accepted by the Resident, who remarked that he would consider their employment on a part time basis to teach religion only. The delegation also pressed for an expansion of the academy and an annual intake of students. This wish was answered by the Resident who said that this could be done eventually but that at 422 chapter eight the moment this would not be wise as the academy had been going for less than one year and that it had been difficult to get qualified students for the first year course. Also, the standard of the students of the present course seemed to be rather diverse. The question thus arose whether it was not necessary to exclude those who were not really qualified. In any case, he argued, ‘Shaykh M. Dahhan teaches three periods only per day and 5 days a week, for a total time from 8.30 until 11 including two breaks and therefore if any of the students needed additional tuition he ought to be able to provide it’. Also, it would be advisable to await the opening of the Arabic primary school to get a regular supply of qualified candidates for the Muslim Academy. The question of expanding the academy could be raised again then. If the academy proved successful after five years, there would be no question of closing it at the end of five years. The most important thing was to ‘concentrate on quality before quantity’ (ZNA AD 23/17). According to The Samachar, some of these suggestions were accepted by the DoE and a preparatory school was started in 1953 (The Samachar, 1952, Golden Jubilee Number). The early development of the academy was described as follows in a later report: In its inception it was hoped that the Muslim Academy would give religious instruction at post-secondary level, but students of the required academic standard were not forthcoming. In a consequence the Academy started at a lower level. The first principal did not renew his contract at the expiry of his first tour in April 1954 and after his departure the Supervisory Teacher in charge of religious teaching was in charge, pending the return of Sayyid Umar Abdallah, the principal designate from the SOAS in London and from his travels in the Middle East. He returned at the end of the year and preliminary discussions on the scope of the Academy and it curriculum were held with a view to submitting a report at a later date for the consideration of Govern- ment and of Muslim leaders (ZNA BA 5/22).

8.2. 1954-1964: The era of Sayyid Umar Abdallāh

The period from 1954 to 1964 may be regarded as the period of routinization of the Muslim Academy. Plans to speed up the development of the academy and to completely change its character were discussed from the mid-1950s. Under the guidance of Sayyid Umar Abdallāh, who had assumed his position as Principal in late 1954, the academy developed into a respected institution of Islamic learning The muslim academy 423 in Zanzibar in the late colonial period, an institution which trained eminent Zanzibari politicians and persons of the public sphere. The 1955 annual report thus mentioned: The Muslim Academy came under scrutiny, and a committee composed of a cross-section of Muslim opinion in the Protectorate was convened to consider proposals prepared by the principal for the immediate future and curriculum of the academy. It was evident that this institution was being regarded more and more as the nucleus of a centre of dispersion of Islamic teaching, culture and inspiration, and high hopes were expressed of its future development and the place in the realm of higher education in this part of the world (ZNA BA 5/25). The report of this committee also seems to have stopped discussions on the future of the Muslim Academy. On 21 October 1955, another committee of scholars eventually met to discuss a syllabus for the Muslim Academy.5 The triennial report of 1957, which included the 1955 and 1956 reports, remarked that it had been decided to accept its main recommendations, namely, that the academy should have a five-year-course with an annual entry of a score of students, ‘some of whom, it was hoped, would come from the mainland territories’, and include in its curriculum: Qur ān, fiqh, uūl al-fiqh, Arabic prose and poetry, ta rīkh, taw īd, taawwuf, maniq, Arabic, English and elementary mathematics. This course was to be regarded as non- vocational and designed primarily ‘to have its students leave its ports as true Muslims, right doing, right speaking, right acting men’. The incorporation of non-religious subjects was regarded as an important factor for maintaining the balance of the academy: ‘The first two years of the course would give much time to Arabic language proficiency in which would govern largely the advance in the studies later on. Moreover, it might well be that the Academy would prove to be a source of students who could be trained as teachers of Arabic and religion in the schools of the Protectorate’ (ZNA BA 5/28). On 24 December 1956, a new committee of scholars6 then approved the

5 This committee consisted of the Principal of the academy as well as Ameir Tajo, Abdallāh b. Sulaymān, Sulaymān al- Alawī Jamal al-Layl, Jābir asan, Abū l-asan b. Amad Jamal al-Layl, Alī Musin al-Barwānī, Muyī al-Dīn b. Alī, amūd b. Sālim al-Rawwāī, al-ājj Uthmān ‘āji’ Abdallāh, Muammad Sālim al-Barwānī and Abdallāh āli al-Farsy. 6 This time, the committee consisted of the Principal, Alī Musin al-Barwānī, Ameir Tajo, amūd b. Sālim al-Rawwāī, Muyī al-Dīn b. Alī Umar, the senior 424 chapter eight first proper syllabus (VI) of the Muslim Academy (ZNA AD 23/17). This syllabus became the most complete ‘diāna’ syllabus in Zanzibar in the colonial period:

1st stage: 1st and 2nd years a. Qur ān: I. proper recitation with complete observance of tajwīd rules II. the meaning of short passages and short chapters. Books required: Muaf, tamrīn al-afāl and hidāyat al-mustafīd. b. fiqh: elementary knowledge of all the main sections of the subject: I. ibādāt: ablution, prayers, zakāt, fasting and pilgrimage II. mu āmalāt: bay , nikā, alāq, mīrāth, wasiyya, ibā and waqf. Books: ghāyat al-taqrīb (the kitāb al-taqrīb, RL), fat al-qarīb, kitāb al-zubad, umdat al-sālik. Ibā ī boys read talqīn (catechism, RL) and mukhtaar al-adyān. Note: it has been found that the boys came without any foundation in fiqh. Hence we have to start from the very beginning: safīnat al-muqaddima and ghāyat al-taqrīb. c. Arabic: I. Naw with arf (arf was soon abandoned, though: it was regarded as being too difficult, RL). Al-ājurrūmiyya should form the scheme of work. na w al-wā i for revision exercises and composition. II. Literature: in this elementary stage with entrants knowing very little Arabic it takes the form of reading set books. d. sīra: I. The life of the prophet before the apostleship in Mecca. II. the advent of Islam and its struggle in Mecca. II. progress and success in Medina e. taawwuf: I. Religious instructions II. Teaching of morality and ethics III. the general Islamic philosphy of life. Books: bidāyat al-hidāya and naā i f. tawīd: I. al-wājibāt wa-l-mustahīl wa-mā-yajūz alā Allāh II. The same as far as the Prophets are concerned II. the Prophets who have been mentioned in the Qur ān. Prophet Muhammad’s children and wives. Books: aqīdat al-awwām, aqīdat al-īmām Note: every school of thought will use appropriate books for its members in the teaching of fiqh and tawīd.

education officer, Mr. Davies, as well as M.D. Kermalli, who was, however, absent. The muslim academy 425

2nd stage: 3rd and 4th years a. Qur ān: I. The plain meaning of every passage II. Special attention to theological passages which call for meditation, such as ‘in the creating of the heavens and the earth’. II. Lessons to be learnt from the main theme of qur ānic studies. b. sunna: the traditions of the Prophet those aādīth connected with fiqh and taawwuf to be correlated with each respectively. c. fiqh: a more detailed study of the sections mentioned in the first part: al- ibādāt and al-mu āmalāt. Books: kifāyat al-akhyār, fat al-muīn. Note: with the present standard of the students these books are too difficult for them. Hence they do umda and zubad. d. Arabic: I. Continuation of work in stage II II. balāgha: ma ānī, bayān and bādi : distinguishing characteristics of Arabic. How meaning of a passage may change as a result of omissions, positions etc; similes, metaphors and figure of speeches; saj and jinās, iqtibās—the beauty of Arabic in general. Books: al-maānī and al-bayān used in Egypt for the 3rd year and 4th year. Secon- dary schools: also al-balāgha al-wā i a, widely in use in the secondary stage in Arab countries as well as a compilation (of texts) by the principal of the Muslim academy. arf: No one book is adequate enough. The academy is compiling a book. But what is in matn-al-binā and lāmiyyat al-afāl should be covered. e. taawwuf: al-adab al-islāmiyya: attitude, outlook and behaviour. Text book: risālat al-muāwana together with bidāyat and naā i (i.e. bidāyat al-hidāya and naā i al-dīniyya, RL). f. tawīd: More details of the work done in the 1st stage, The text book:mudhakkirat al-taw īd and al-sanūsiyya. g. sīra I. The life of the Prophet before his apostleship in Mecca II. The advent of Islam and its struggle in Mecca. III. Progress and success in Medina.

3rd stage: The fifth year a. Qur ān: I. Selected passages dealing with law II. Passages depicting the characteristics of a good Muslim III. progress and success in Medina 426 chapter eight

b. al-sunna Continuation of the work in the second stage muala (iilā) al-adīth I. What is aī, conditions of isnād authenticity. II. the same with al-asan, al- a īf, al-mashhūr, al-gharīb. The text book will be matn al-baiqūniyya. c. uūl al-fiqh sources of the sharī a I. Qur ān II. al-sunna III. ijmā IV. qiyās and its ramifications d. fiqh I. al-qa ā II. al-da wā (legal proceedings, RL) wa-l-bayyināt II. al-shahāda e. Arabic: I. naw and arf II. balāgha: appreciation of oratorial passages; application of the rules. III. arū : simple rules. IV. literature, including an outline of the history of literature. Books: al-mula la āt al-arabiyya, mizān al-dhahab; passages from jawāhir al-adab. f. taawwuf: Muhlikāt (the things which lead to doom) and munjiyāt (the things that lead to salvation); Books: risālat al-muāwana, naā i al-dīniyya; passages from I yā and al-qanātir by Ibrāhīm al-afayish. g. tawīd: scholastic approach, the logical arguments for the mustahilāt (attributes which are not part of God’s attributes or allowed to attribute) and wājibāt (God’s necessary attributes). Text book: al-sanūsiyya. The role of the Muslim Academy was discussed further in the context of a ‘Conference on Muslim Education’ in Dar es Salaam from 20-22 November 1958. Among the participants were Professor R.B. Serjeant (SOAS) and V.L. Griffiths, the former Principal of theBakht al-Rū a College in Sudan, both authors of a ‘Report on Muslim Education in East Africa’,7 T.H. Baldwin of the Colonial Office, Malam Haliru

7 The Serjeant/Griffiths report (PRO BW 90/71) had been the result of a fact- finding mission on Muslim education in British East Africa. The itinerary of the mission took the group from Khartoum via Dar es Salaam to Zanzibar, where the mission stayed for a period of twelve days, including a visit to Pemba, then the delegation continued to Kenya, Uganda, Somalia and Aden. The mission was supposed The muslim academy 427

Binji, the Deputy Grand Kadi of Northern Nigeria, and a number of colonial officers from Kenya, Nyasaland, Somalia, Aden, Tanganyika, Uganda and Zanzibar. The Zanzibar representatives were A.A. Greig and Sayyid Umar Abdallāh. The ‘Serjeant-Griffiths report’ supported the idea that a working party should be set up to investigate the development of the Muslim Academy in Zanzibar as a centre of Islamic learning and culture as well as for Muslim religious teaching in East Africa (ZNA BA 5/29). In the discussion, L.V. Griffiths also suggested keeping an eye on the situation in the Sudan as well as in Northern Nigeria, ‘where the problems to be faced were in many respects similar to those in the Muslim areas of East Africa’ (CME, Conference on Muslim Education 1958: 5). The report continued: Finding out very soon that there was little interest in Higher Islamic Studies amongst the mass of the Muslims of East Africa, we set our- selves to discover what the existing problems were. The major concern of those we interviewed was the proper teaching of religion particularly at the primary level. The learning of Arabic was a serious demand only amongst Arabs. A matter of even greater concern to the leaders of the African and Arab Muslim communities was the increase and improvement of secular education. Our recommendations in consequence deal very largely with the problems which beset elementary education, but we feel that these could be assisted in part through the existence of an Islamic Institute. The report then set out a general assessment of the condition of Islam in East Africa, mentioning, amongst others, that Muslims represented a minority of some two and a half million in a population of just under twenty million in the British East Africa Territories and formed a majority of the population only in Zanzibar and Somaliland. Arabs formed a sizeable population only in Zanzibar, where they constituted 17% of the population. The Muslim Academy was characterized as ‘at present of modest attainment’. The mission quickly asserted that due to the need for better primary education, ‘the creation of a new relatively large-scale Islamic institute appeared inap- propriate’ and that it was advisable to develop existing institutes so that they may play a fuller part in the development of the territories

‘to study the existing forms of instruction in Arabic and subjects allied to it and to make suggestions appropriate to the improvement of such instruction and general matters relating to it’. The mission had also been asked to visit and contact local Muslim leaders and to find out the demand for an institution of higher Islamic studies in the area which might be called a Muslim Institute, and to make commentaries with respect to these ideas to the Secretary of State. 428 chapter eight they were designed to serve. If such an Islamic Institute was to be created nevertheless, existing centres of Islamic learning such as Tarīm in Hadramaut, the Ribā al-Riyā a in Lamu or Aden would be not suitable for a number of reasons, such as their geographical remoteness or their unwillingness to have anything to do with, for instance, the Ismā īlīs. Uganda was also regarded as too remote for such an institute, and the standard of Islamic education in Tanganyika was too low. Finally, the Mombasa Institute of Muslim Education was described as ‘a relative failure’, which left, after considering all pos- sibilities, Zanzibar as the main source of Islamic culture and learning. The report maintained that the Muslim Academy could be used as a basis for the development of an Institute of Islamic Education in East Africa that would correspond to Makerere College. The mission then pointed out some principles that should be kept in mind when thinking about the expansion of the Muslim Academy: It is always desirable to avoid religious obscurantism and pedantry, and the breeding of fanatism, especially the sort which is likely to take an intensely anti-Christian line. On the other hand the Academy/Ins- titute should provide the basis of a reasonable degree of teaching of religious practice and belief in Government schools. The Institute cannot afford a rigid conservatism and reaction, for there is every likelihood that young men educated in secondary schools will tend to turn from established religion of traditional type during the next five, ten or fifteen years, thinking more in terms of politics than religion. We feel that scholars should be attached to the Institute with some time to devote to study and not to teaching alone. There is evidence that East African Muslims feel the need for an authoritative body to give legal opinions on problems that arise at every turn of modern life. This body composed of men of prestige in learning might be based on the Institute. After discussing the problems of the development of Islamic education in East Africa, the report mentioned the problems of hiring Arab teachers. It mentioned in particular Zanzibar’s bad experiences with an ‘Egyptian’ (al-Dahhān, RL) as head of the Muslim Academy, who had not been popular ‘because of his personality’. Still, the Muslim Academy in Zanzibar should be strengthened in such a way as to be able to ‘hold courses in Arabic for teachers from both Zanzibar and the coast’ (PRO BW 90/71). The 1958 Dar es Salaam conference adopted most of the recommendations of the Serjeant/Griffiths report, such as the invitation of two prominent shaykhs with experience in modern teaching to come to East Africa to advise on the teaching of Islam and to see if it would The muslim academy 429 be possible to establish direct links with the University of Khartoum for certificate courses in Arabic. The conference also discussed R.B. Serjeant’s proposals for a Muslim Institute for East Africa and supported them. This institute would have a five year basic course with normal entry after standard VIII, a three-year advanced course, as well as facilities for private advanced courses and special courses. The staff required for such an institute with up to 240 students would be 20 teachers. Also, it would be necessary to look for a new site as the old building in Stone Town would soon become too small for such an extension of the Institute (CME 1958: 8). In the further proceedings of the conference, a number of experts on Islamic education presented detailed reports on specific countries. Haliru Binji from Northern Nigeria, for instance, described the development of the School of Arabic Studies in Kano. Sayyid Umar Abdallāh presented a paper on higher studies in Islam and recommended the development of a Muslim university (CME 1958: 21). With respect to the situation of the Muslim Academy, he mentioned that there were currently three classes and four teachers including the Principal. In 1957 the first group of students had completed their course and nine students had graduated with certificates. The intake of students was almost entirely confined to ex-standard VIII boys, while the selection was made by personal interview with the Principal. Some of the students attended courses outside the academy, in particular at the Madrasat Bā Kathīr, which had the ‘highest standard of all the traditional Islamic centres in East Africa’ (CME 1958: 27). The 1958-60 annual report not only provided an overview of British educational activities in the last years of their administration, but also remarked that a working group had been set up to investigate the development of the Muslim Academy in Zanzibar as a centre of Islamic teaching and culture, and for the training of teachers for Muslim Schools in East Africa, as had been proposed by the 1958 conference. This working group had indeed been convened in Zanzibar in early 1959 under the chairmanship of the DoE and had submitted its report to the respective governments. The report had not been adopted, however, due to the expenses involved and the financial difficulties in which the government found itself. However, a local committee was convened by the Zanzibar Government to revise existing recommendations and this report was submitted to East African governments for consideration in late 1960. In brief, the report advocated the development of the present academy as a sec- 430 chapter eight ondary school (emphasis RL), offering a five-year course to the school certificate level, with a bias on Arabic and religion, as well as boarding accommodation for students from rural areas and a number of mainland students (ZNA BA 5/34). This idea was supported by the DoE, Hann: ‘The Academy’s curriculum…shall be broader in future and thus justify still more its inclusion under secondary education’ (ZNA BA 5/29). The future status of the Muslim Academy as either a mahad or an Islamic secondary school became a major issue in a number of subsequent reports such as the ‘Cox report on the development of Islamic Education in East Africa’ as presented and discussed, on 9 April 1960, by Sir Christopher Cox, the advisor to the Secretary of State on Education, in the presence of, amongst others, the British Resident in Zanzibar, Sir George Mooring, as well as the DoE, Hann. According to Cox, the Muslim Academy was ‘much more firmly based now than it was when he visited Zanzibar six years ago’. Also, he mentioned that after his visit to Tanganyika, his impression was that mainland Muslims would rather tend to invest their funds in mainland institutions and not spend it in Zanzibar. Thus, the ‘expensive scheme for a full-blown Muslim Institute in Zanzibar would now have to be abandoned’. Instead the Zanzibar government should concentrate on improving the present academy by expanding its teaching accommodation in the present building. If these measures were implemented, it would be possible to offer courses that would lead to a level equivalent to the Cambridge School Certificate (ZNA AD 23/17). On the question as to whether the Academy should continue as a mahad or rather become a secondary school with an emphasis on Islamics the Cox report remarked that local opinion on this issue was divided, but that a majority favoured the development of the academy as a secondary school with a definite Islamics curriculum. A local committee should be appointed to advise whether the academy should develop as a mahad or a secondary school. Also, it was ‘reported that Sheikh Ameri Tajo had said that he would refuse to support a mahad and it was thought that this reflected African opinion generally’. With respect to staff, the report emphasized the difficulty of procuring suitable staff and the ‘undesirability’ of using Egyptian teachers, although ‘individual Egyptian teachers might be acceptable in political terms’. The teachers produced by Tarīm in Hadramaut, by contrast, ‘might not prove up to standard’. Other possible sources of supply were Sudan and Lebanon, but the Cox The muslim academy 431 report pointed out that the question of teacher recruitment should be left to the Principal of the academy: He might find it easier to recruit suitable persons in Egypt than the Zanzibar Government, ‘the security risk in such a procedure required further examination in any case’ (ZNA AD 23/17). Beyond the discussion of the future of the Muslim Academy, the Cox report, for the first time in the history of education policies, reflected the political realities of the zama za siasa and the growing importance of the ‘African’ electorate by pointing out the necessity of heeding ‘African opinion’. This change of position was possibly connected with British anxieties regarding Zanzibar’s growing links with ‘revolutionary Egypt’, as mirrored in Alī Musin al-Barwānī’s trip to Cairo in 1958 and the increasing number of Zanzibari students in Cairo (see chapter 2). In addition, the reference to ‘African opinion’ might have been a welcome argument to reject demands raised by the Arab Association which had pestered the colonial administration for decades. On 22 and 30 April 1960, a number of further meetings took place in the Residency and in the DeptoE8 to discuss the future of the Muslim Academy as based on the Cox report as well as the proceedings of the 1958 Dar es Salaam conference (ZNA AD 23/17),9 and on 30 April 1960, a working group was formed consisting of Ameir Tajo, amūd b. Sālim al-Rawwāī, Muammad Alī Mgeni, the AdoE, Greig, as well as the DoE, Hann. This working group met on 5 May, 14 May, 28 May, 4 August and 17 September 1960. Regarding the development of the Muslim Academy the working group recommended (ZNA AD 23/17): 1. …that the present Muslim Academy should be developed as a Secondary School providing an education, based on traditional

8 Participants were the DoE, Hann, Sayf b. amūd Fayal, Abdallāh Sulaymān al-arthī, the President of the AA, amūd b. Sālim al-Rawwāī, Muammad Alī Mgeni, Muyī al-Dīn Alī Umar, Muammadali Janoowalla, imīd Mbaye, aji Othman aji, Sayyid Umar Abdallāh, Jafferali Dhalla Kassim, while Ameir Tajo, Amad Lakha for the Ithnā ashari community and Alī Musin al-Barwānī were absent (ZNA AD 23/17). 9 Other issues were the question of additional accommodation for the students, including places for Muslims from mainland territories who wished to study at the academy; alterations to the present syllabus; hostel arrangements for students from Pemba; the appointment of a committee to investigate the future of the academy and the question whether the academy should be administered in future by a Board of Governors, a school committee or some similar body (ZNA AD 23/17). 432 chapter eight

Muslim principles, which would be a satisfactory blend of the religious and the secular. 2. …that the curriculum should offer a five year course leading to the Cambridge School Certificate. No special provision for Higher School Certificate courses is justified at this stage (as the future Faculty of Islamics at the University College of Tanganyika had to be borne in mind in this respect). It is also recommended that the curriculum should include Arabic, Religion, Kiswahili, English, Mathematics, Islamic History and General Science. At least six of these subjects would be examination subjects. 3. …that the syllabuses would be those laid down for the respective subjects by the University of Cambridge Local Examinations Syn- dicate. The Islamic History paper would be one with a special section adapted to east African needs. 4. …that the school should work for 40 periods, each of 40 minutes duration, during mornings only, from Monday to Saturday inclusive. It is also recommended that not less than three-fifths of the timetable should be devoted to the teaching of Arabic Religion and Islamic History, not more than two periods be devoted to Kiswa- hili and not less than three to General Science. It is recommended that the attendance at a mosque should be compulsory. 5. …that admission to the Academy should be subject to a minimum Standard VIII level, candidates having passed satisfactorily tests in English, Mathematics and Arabic and a personal interview....It is recommended that annual entrance should be limited to thirty, as with other secondary schools, and that of this number of places ten should be reserved for qualified students from outside the protectorate.... It is recommended that entry should not be confined to boys. It is recommended that the fees charges to students should be the same as those charges at other secondary schools in the country. 6. …that it is fundamental to the success of the academy that the staffing should be adequate in numbers and good in quality,...that the majority of the staff should be Muslims,...that the teaching staff should number 10, including the principal. 7. …that the Committee agrees that the present academy building should be used as the tuition block...the final tuition accommodation would comprise 5 large classrooms, 1 science laboratory, 1 library, 1 staffroom, 1 principal’s office, 1 storeroom, lavatory accommodation for pupils and staff. 8. …that the academy would be part day and part boarding. It is estimated that of the total enrolment of about 150 pupils, 5 classes of 30 students, 90-100 would be boarders....quarters should be provided on the hostel site for the bursar and at least four of the staff. The muslim academy 433

9. Site for Hostel and Staff quarters: the committee recommends consideration of a site of 12-14 acres at Kiembe Samaki, on the right hand side of Princess Margaret Road proceeding towards the airport, beyond the present Kiembe Samaki School. 10. Estimated Expenditure and Revenue: a. Capital (Boarding, Equipment etc): 49,350 Pound Sterling b. Special Exp. (laboratory etc.): 53450 PS c. Recurrent: 9630 PS. 11. Management: It is recommended that a committee for the academy should be established the members of which should represent as far as possible all shades of Muslim opinion in Zanzibar. At a later date, the Academy Committee could be replaced by a Board of Governors which would take over control and management of the Academy. 12. Financial aid might be given to the academy by: Karimjee Trust, Sheikh Trust, Muslim Welfare Trust, H.H. the Aga Khan, Govern- ments of Muslim countries, al-Azhar University, commercial bodies (ZNA AD 23/17). The 1960 annual report on education summarized these developments and said that the first five-year course at the Muslim Academy had been non-vocational. For the first four years, teaching had been confined to a single class. Thereafter, it had been decided to admit an annual entry of 23-30 students from pro-primary level. As a consequence of the recommendations made at the ‘Conference on Muslim Education’ held in Dar es Salaam in November 1958 and two subsequent reports on the future of the academy, the academy was to develop into a secondary school with boarding accommodation, offering a five-year course to School Certificate level with a focus on Arabic and religion, being open to students from the Protectorate and the mainland. This scheme was submitted for consideration by all the governments concerned in 1960 (ZNA BA 5/34, see also the Report of the Committee of Education 1959, in: PRO CO 822/1606). In 1962, a ‘Report of the Commission of Inquiry on the Conditions of Service of Government Primary School Teachers’ again stressed the paramount role of the Muslim Academy for the training of ‘Kuran’ teachers. These Muslim Academy trained ‘Kuran’ teachers would not only replace the existing ‘Kuran’ teachers in due course but who would also be responsible for religious instruction as well as other subjects in the curriculum, and be appointed on the same conditions of service as other qualified teachers (ZNA BA 6/28). In 434 chapter eight

June 1962, J.A. Tejani (B239), a teacher at the King George VI College, visited the Muslim Academy and presented yet another report (letter DoE to the Permanent Secretary) on the Muslim Academy. He pointed out that the standard of teaching was ‘of modest attainment’ due to the recruitment of students below standard, mostly boys who had been rejected by the secondary schools and mostly non-Arabic speakers, who were unable to follow the Arabic lessons. Tejani proposed that the present syllabus should be revised to accommodate children with no knowledge of Arabic and that an intensive course in Arabic should be introduced, so that the students could concentrate on Arabic in the first stage and proceed to maniq, balāgha and uūl al-fiqh later, thus cutting the number of religion lessons in the early stage and expanding the Arabic classes. Also, English, which had been introduced recently, should be taught more vigorously and in a more professional way. The present Muslim Academy was unsatisfactory as ‘it did not attract the right type of pupil; it did not fit into any educational system; it did not provide a public examination at the end of its course thereby not qualifying its ex-pupils for any further education’ (ZNA AD 23/7). Tejani proposed either a reduction of the time spent at the Muslim Academy to two years with intensified training in Arabic and Islamics, or that it should be turned into a four-year day secondary school, open to boys and girls, that would follow the Cambridge system.10 Tejani’s idea of transforming the Muslim Academy into a regular secondary school was immediately rejected by the British authorities. Similarly the British rejected the transfer of the Muslim Academy to a new building along Chukwani road for financial reasons (ZNA AD 23/7, letter 11.6.1962).11 However, the British authorities accepted the restructuring of the syllabus in principle and also accepted the negative gist of Tejani’s report. The DoE, Hann, concluded that ‘we should seriously

10 The texts Tejani suggested for the teaching of Arabic in the first stage were: ‘Sindbad the sailor (Kamil Kailani), Teach yourself Arabic (Tritton) and Tarjuma (K. Carmen and Tawfiq al-Bardai); in the second stage Tarjuma III, Cowan’s Modern Literary Arabic, Thatcher’s Arabic Grammar and Chaim Rabin’s Arabic reader, for an introduction into modern Arabic and to proceed to classical Arabic from there’. āhā usayn’s ‘al-Ayyām’ should be considered as reading matter. 11 The new site for the Muslim Academy on the ‘Chukwani’ road to the airport in Masisini was four kilometres from Stone Town and had already been bought in 1952 (IC3, 13.3.2001). The move to the new site took eventually place in 1972, when the Muslim Academy was reopened as the Chuo Cha Kiislamu (CCK). The muslim academy 435 consider what we wish the Academy to become’ (Hann, letter 21.6.1962): either it should be converted into a school with a four- year course leading to a School Certificate with a bias in Arabic and religion, or it should be transformed into a double-stream two-year post-primary course (ZNA AD 23/7). After some consideration, the Minister of Education supported the proposal to transform the Muslim Academy into a day secondary school offering a four-year course with an emphasis on Arabic, Religion and Islamic History (letter 8.9.1962). As a result, a group of Ministry of Education employees, namely Amūr Alī Ameir, Bibi Samīra, J.A. Tejani and Muammad b. Sālim b. Hilāl al-Barwānī formed a committee and wrote a memorandum asking that the future of the Muslim Academy be discussed in concrete terms (letter 24.9.1962). They again stressed that the Muslim Academy currently did not provide public examinations, thereby not qualifying its own students. In its present situation and financial framework, the Muslim Academy could either be turned into a two-year school of secondary level, or, by reallocation of funds from other schools, be expanded into a four-year day secondary school, which would be the preferred solution, as a two-year course in Arabic and Islamics after standard VIII would serve no useful purpose. For teaching English (8 periods in each of the four years), Arabic (8), Islamics (6), History (3), Mathematics (7) and General Science (3), seven teachers would be needed, and possibly eight for a fifth year, while the Muslim Academy as it was had a staff of seven teachers only. In a further meeting, the committee stressed that the purpose of the Muslim Academy was not to prepare students for the GCE examination, but to train staff for the local administration (ZNA AD 23/7). In a number of circulars, the colonial authorities continued to evaluate the costs for these changes, in particular teachers’ salaries, up to late 1962. Only Amūr Alī Ameir, in a letter to the DeptoE of 13 February 1963, referred again to Muslim Academy development plans (ZNA AD 14/12): It is intended to continue the employment of ex-Muslim Academy students trained at the Teacher’s Training College to teach Arabic in the primary schools. 11 such teachers have already been appointed and the target is to have one teacher of Arabic for each stream. Unfortu- nately this scheme applies to boys’ schools only as there are no girls attending the Muslim Academy. The training of Muslim Academy students in the Teacher’s Training College is to continue for quite a while but as things stand at the moment, there is no one on the staff who is 436 chapter eight

qualified to continue with the teaching of Arabic subjects and to train teachers of Arabic. The triennial report of 1961-63 (ZNA BA 5/32) summarized that plans to develop the Muslim Academy as a secondary school had been deferred because of the costs entailed. It was estimated, however, that savings resulting from the adjustment of the grant-in-aid to primary schools would suffice to implement the plans regarding the Muslim Academy and that ‘in all probability this could be started in the next triennium’ (1964-1966). The DeptoE had tried to raise the standard of the Muslim Academy, yet, ‘in 1963 was still of a lower standard than the Zanzibar government secondary schools’ (ZNA BA 6/28), a conclusion supported by Joseph Schacht: ‘The teaching given there was of a kind which notwithstanding the devotion of the staff, conferred the advantages neither of a traditional nor of a modern method of instruction, but great hopes were held of the appointment of a scholar (Sayyid Umar Abdallāh) who had taken a B.Phil. at Oxford University, as the Director of the Academy’ (Schacht 1965: 117). Despite these critical reports on the development of the Muslim Academy, the mahad had developed in a fairly consistent way, when looking, for instance, at student numbers:

year/students 1st year 2nd year 3rd year 4th year 5th year total 1952 - - - - - 25 1953 - - - - - 25 1954 - - - - - 25 1955 - - - - - 25 1956 - - - - - 55 1957 14 16 23 - - 53 1958 - - - - - 70 1959 - - - - - 104 1960 30 35 34 32 16 137 (142) 1961 - - - - - 151 1962 - - - - - 139 1963 - - - - - 125

In May 1960, the students at the Muslim Academy came mostly from Zanzibar town, Zanzibar’s rural areas, Pemba or the mainland: The muslim academy 437

year town rural Pemba mainland total 1st year 10 7 6 7 30 2nd year 16 1 11 7 35 3rd year 11 8 5 10 34 4th year 8 6 8 10 32 5th year 8 5 - 3 16 total 53 27 30 37 147

Since the late 1950s, the Muslim Academy also started to produce graduates. In 1959, five graduates of the Muslim Academy left for the Sayyid Khalifa TTC and in 1960, ‘some (more) of the students who had left the Academy during 1958 and 1959’ were enrolled for training at the Sayyid Khalifa TTC (ZNA BA 5/29). Among the graduates of the mahad was the future Muftī of Zanzibar, Harith b. Khelef al-Ghaythi who was sent to al-Azhar in 1958 for further training (Ziddy 2002: 14). On 4 May 1961, the minister of education, Alī Musin al-Barwānī, claimed that Egypt would be willing to support the mahad through the Waqf Foundation. (ZNA AD 13/8). At the same time, the question of Zanzibari students at al-Azhar, who had been sent to Egypt since 1958, came up in the discussions over the development of the mahad. These students as united in a ‘Zanzibar youth and students union’ (rābia shabāb wa-alaba zinjibār) pledged (letter of 20 September 1961, signed by the secretary of the union, Nāir Muammad Nāir) to return to Zanzibar, to work at the mahad and to continue their relations with al-Azhar (ZNA AD 23/7). In May 1960, the Muslim Academy hired some new (temporary) teachers, namely: 1. Sulaymān (Muammad) al- Alawī Jamal al-Layl; aged 60, to be employed on a basic salary of 925 shillings per month (B84). 2. Sa īd Muammad al-Kindī, the teacher for ‘Ibadhi subjects’, aged 37 (437.50 sh.), who had taught Ibā ī fiqh, sīrat al-nabī, akhlāq, taawwuf and ta rīkh at the Muslim Academy since 1955 (B99). 3. Amad āmid Manab, aged 32 (925 sh.), who concentrated on all aspects of religious studies (as permanent employment) (see chapter 3 and B68). 4. Alī b. Amad al-Badawī, aged 53 (1265 sh., on contract) (B18). 5. Sulān Alī al-Mar ashī, aged 29 (820 sh., B116) (ZNA AD 23/17 and AD 14/33). 438 chapter eight

At the same time, in 1960 the Muslim Academy started to send out advertisements for the post of Ibā ī lecturer. Applicants were Abū Isāq Ibrāhīm b. Muammad b. Yūsuf al-afayish (Pouwels 1987: 204; see also chapter 4 and B172), Alī al-arrāsī and Sālim S. Mālik, a Qur ān school teacher (ZNA AD 20/74). Despite these applications, Abd al-Ramān āmid Sirrī, a former teacher at the madrasat Bā Kathīr, was appointed ‘Ibadhi teacher’ on 21 December 1960. amūd b. Sālim al-Rawwāī protested against this decision on 29 December 1960, arguing that Sirrī was not Ibā ī. Thereupon, Sirrī’s appointment was deferred (letter Hann to Permanent Secretary of 25.1.1961) and files were checked. However, al-afayish, who was the preferred candidate of the Ibā ī community, was still not nominated as he was regarded as being ‘too old for the job’ (letter 24.2.1961), and was known ‘in any event to have openly taken the part of the imam of Oman against the Sultan in Muscat with whom his Highness main- tains friendly relations’. His rejection was thus due to political reasons, as was spelled out clearly in a letter by Thompson, the Permanent Secretary, to Hann (ZNA AD 20/74). In addition, al-afayish may have been rejected by the British due to the fact that, as an Algerian, he was likely to have been strongly influenced by Arab nationalism, both through the Algerian movement for independence as well as the Egyptian revolution. The discussion between the DoE, Ameir Tajo, amūd b. Sālim al-Rawwāī and Sayf b. amūd Fayal over the issue of the Ibā ī teacher continued, however, and the latter accepted the rejection of al-afayish, but made sure that Sirrī was not appointed. The position was consequently advertised anew and Amad b. āmid Manab’s name was mentioned (ZNA AD 20/74, letter 16.3.1961). Still, Sirrī was considered again on 24 March 1961, until new applications arrived on 24 April 1961. Among the applicants was Sulaymān al- Alawī Jamal al-Layl who already had a position at the Muslim Academy and who had acted as Acting Principal in the absence of Sayyid Umar Abdallāh. Also, he had been recommended by Sayyid Umar Abdallāh: ‘It is almost impossible to get a person of his learning, calibre and reputation in East Africa’. Another application came from Fatawi Issa who was assessed very differently in a letter of 24 April 1961 (ZNA AD 20/74): The applicant is a Kuran teacher at Makunduchi. His age is 65, and the Principal, Sayyid Umar Abdallah, comments that Shaykh Fatawi couldn’t express himself adequately in Arabic, and although he has doubtless knowledge of the subjects pertaining to the post, he is not The muslim academy 439

considered as being well versed in them. This application is not supported. The same applied to Muhannā Naor al-Rawwāī, 62, a primary school teacher, whose Arabic was good, but he had not studied Islam in depth; finally, Amad Abd al-Ramān b. Wazīr was considered, and assessed as follows: ‘the principal considers that although Shaykh Amad’s command of Arabic and educational background are good, his learning is not as profound as that of candidate 1’ (signed: DoE, ZNA AD 20/74). On 29 March 1962, the question of the Ibā ī master thus came up again: Abdallāh b. Sulaymān al-arthī and amūd b. Sālim al-Rawwāī explained in a letter that they had not been able to find a (proper) ‘Ibadhi master’ and proposed to appoint Sa īd Muammad Sa īd al-Kindī. On 16 January 1963, Sa īd Muammad Sa īd al-Kindī eventually got the position of Ibā ī teacher. He had been working at the Muslim Academy since 1955 and had been evaluated as a very good teacher, as was stated in a letter of 15 May 1963 by Amūr Alī Ameir to the secretary of the public service commission. His nomination was effective from 13 July 1963 and was backdated to 1 January 1963 (ZNA AD 23/7).12 On 9 January 1964, discussion began of the candidates for another new teaching position at the Muslim Academy as advertised on 14 December 1963 in the Official Gazette. The applicants were, amongst others, Juma Muammad Naor Mazrū ī and Harith b. Khelef al- Ghaythi, but the decision took time and letters on the issue were exchanged on 29 March 1964, 9 April 1964, 10 April 1964, 17 April 1964 and 15 April 1964. In the letter of 15 April 1964, the case was discussed extensively. Due to the revolution of 12 January 1964 and respective changes in language policies, a change in style can be observed: ‘Bwana’ Muhammad Nassor Mazrui (35 years, b. 1929), was characterized as a ‘Mzanzibari’ who had been at al-Azhar, then, until 1963 at Cairo University, and who had worked for two years as a teacher in Saudi Arabia; ‘Bwana’ Harithi Khelef (B52), who was at that time 37 years old, was also described as a ‘Mzanzibari’, a student of the Muslim Academy since 1954, who had taught in

12 On 8 October 1962, the staff of the Muslim Academy consisted of Amad b. āmid Manab, Alī b. Amad al-Badawī, Sulaymān al- Alawī Jamal al-Layl, Shaykh Balfaqīh, Abdallāh b. Muammad a ramī and Sa īd b. Muammad al-Kindī, Abd al-Ramān b. āmid Sirrī as well as Sulān Alī al-Mar ashī who was dismissed, however, in 1963. Sayyid Umar Abdallāh was in Oxford on a Commonwealth Scholar- ship, the acting principal was Sulaymān al- Alawī Jamal al-Layl (ZNA AD 23/7). 440 chapter eight

Nyasaland at the Africa Muhammadan Schools Association and who had then, from 1958-1963, studied at al-Azhar. The Principal of the Muslim Academy, Sayyid Umar Abdallāh, recommended Muham- mad Nassor Mazrui as the best candidate (ZNA AD 20/74). Due to the revolution, and the closure of the Muslim Academy in 1965, these plans came to naught.

8.3. The Chuo Cha Kiislamu (CCK) 1972-2007 As in many spheres of life, the revolution also brought major changes for the Muslim Academy, although historical facts have become increasingly muddled in Zanzibari discourses on the revolution. According to many voices, the Muslim Academy was allegedly closed down in 1964, even though this happened in 1965 only. In 1972, the Muslim Academy was reopened and President Karume personally approved the reopening of the academy under the new name of Chuo Cha Kiislamu (CCK, ‘School of Islam’). As the new CCK could thus be regarded as a legacy of the late President, who was assassinated just a few weeks after the opening of the CCK, the further development of the school was not challenged by Karume’s successors. Still, the CCK represented a conscious break with the pre-revolutionary past and was never intended to recreate old traditions of Islamic learning. Rather, the CCK was supposed to train a new generation of ‘government scholars’ who would be able to provide some notions of Islamic legitimacy to the post-revolutionary education system of Zanzibar. Although the Muslim Academy continued to function throughout 1964 and was closed down in 1965 ‘only’, discussions about the future of the building and its teachers started very soon. A letter from the Katibu Mkuu (chief secretary) of the Minister of Education, Shioni M. Dahoma of 21 February 1966, thus stressed that the building in Forodhani, which was originally occupied by ‘the Indian school’ (skuli ya kihindi, currently the SESM) which had moved to Vuga in 1950, and which had accommodated the Muslim Academy from 1952, should continue, from 1966, as a house for (orphaned) children, and presented a calculation for things needed to equip the Nyumba ya watoto (‘house of children’) (ZNA AD 23/7): The school that formerly was the ‘Indian’ school in Forodhani shall now become a school for protected children who are presently based in a house in Kikwajuni. The Muslim Academy which was there so far The muslim academy 441

has to move from there for that reason. The minister of education and culture has declared his intention that he wanted the protected children all to be housed in that one building which has been a school and which will be ready to start as a school from 23-2-1966. The Muslim Academy will thus become a school to teach small children as quickly as possible (Nyumba ambayo ilikuwa skuli ya kihindi iliopo Forodhani na hivi sasa inakaliwa na watu waliohamishwa kikwajuni inatakikana kuanzis- hwa skuli. Skuli ya Muslim Academy ndiyo itakayo hamiya huko; kwa hivyo Mheshimiwa Waziri wa Elimu na mila ameniamuru nikutake uwahamishe wapangaji wote wanaokaa katika nyumba hiyo iliokuwa skuli na iwe tayari kwa kuaazishwa skuli siku ya jumatano tarehe 23.2.1966. Skuli ya Muslim Academy inatakikana kwa kusomeshewa watoto wadogo wadogo kwa upesi kama inavyowezekana). For the next four years, until 1970, not much happened in terms of plans for the future of the former Muslim Academy. In a letter of 4 March 1971 by Abd al-Wārith Sa īd, the mwalimu mkuu (head teacher) of the future Chuo Cha Kiislamu to mwenyekiti (chairman) Karume, it became evident, however, that talks about the reopening of the Muslim Academy had started among teachers and students of the future CCK in September 1969. On 18 April 1970, the reopening of the future CCK was discussed at a meeting of the Minister of Education, H. N. Moyo, with the waziri mdogo wa elimu (deputy minister of education), Ali Muhsin Ali, as well as Ahmada Shani and Abdillahi Abdullatif of the Ministry of Education and two Egyptian teachers for Arabic, Abd al-Wārith Sa īd and Abd al-Tawwāb Haikal who had been seconded to Zanzibar to assist in the restructuring of Islamic education, possibly as a result of Nasser’s visit to Zanzibar in 1965. The discussions over the future of the CCK were continued in another meeting with the headmasters of the Lumumba, Ben Bella, Shangani, Haile Selassie and Mikunguni trade and secondary schools on 27 April 1970, when the future location of the CCK was discussed, and on 5 May 1970, when it was decided at a meeting in the ministry of education to re-open the CCK; this meeting was attended by the Minister of Education, the above-mentioned teachers of Arabic, the Mkuu wa Shirika la Upigaji (director of the printing press), Ali Himidi, as well as the Secretary of the Korti Kuu (Supreme Court), Ndugu Abdullah A. Bajubeir and Abdillahi Abdullatif, both from the Ministry of Education. The idea to reopen the CCK was supported by its first students (see below). Further consultations involved teachers such as Muhammad Uthman, Ahmed Hamid Mansab, Juma Abd al-Wadud, Musa Makungu and Ameir Tajo. In their view, the CCK 442 chapter eight was supposed to focus on the teaching of the Qur ān in Kiswahili: ‘The Chuo cha Kiislamu was opened in order to do its great work of translating and explaining the Koran in Kiswahili in the context of its task to teach the Islamic religion’ (imefungua chuo cha kiislamu ambacho kazi yake kubwa nikufasiri kuran takatifu kwa kiswahili kati ya kazi ya kusomesha dini ya kiislamu), an idea that was also publicly presented on 9 May 1970 in a letter of the Ministry of Education to the Egyptian ambassador, as signed by Abdillahi Abdullatif (ZNA AD 1/137). On 26 December 1970, a first class of 40 students was opened in the building of the Ben Bella Secondary School under the mwalimu mkuu of the CCK, Abd al-Wārith Sa īd (ZNA AD 1/137). From 19 May 1971, this first class of the CCK and, thus, the first ‘religious’ class in post-revolutionary Zanzibar, which became the nucleus for the future CCK, took place once a week on Wednesdays. From 7 September 1971, this religious class was extended to be taught on two days, after approval by the government’s department of justice (serikali ya Zanzibar idara ya mahkama) on 2 September 1971. In December 1971 a second ‘religious’ class of students was started (ZNA AD 1/137) and on 5 January 1972 the construction of a building in Kiembe Samaki (Masisini) and the utilization of that building by the future CCK was approved by the ministry, in the guise of the deputy secretary of education, Muhammad Ali Khamis. Also, a first plan for a formal opening ceremony was presented on 1 January 1972. This program saw a number of changes, though. On 18 March 1972 the President, Abeid Amani Karume, who had approved of the construction of the new building of the CCK, had to be integrated into the program for the opening ceremony. In addition, the embassies of the GDR, France, China, USA and USSR were going to attend the official program and the opening ceremony was finally shifted to 25 March 1972. The first draft program which was subsequently slightly changed, proposed the following schedule (ZNA AD 1/137): saa 10.30: opening qaīda recited by the students saa 10.50: Lady Fatma Karume will arrive (Mama Fatma Karume ata- fika), his Excellency, the Chairman of the Revolutionary Council, will arrive (Mheshima Mwenyekiti wa Baraza la Mapinduzi atawasili) saa 11.00: police music band plays national anthem saa 11.05: recitation of the holy Qur ān by Mwana Maulidi Makame The muslim academy 443

saa 11.15: hotuba ya council/Halmashauri ya CCK (speech by the council of the CCK) saa 11.30: hotuba ya Mwenyekiti wa kazi za elimu (speech by the chairman [of the ministry] of work and education) saa 11.35-12.20: diverse speeches saa 12.20: ufunguzi wa chuo, utakaofanywa na mheshimiwa Mwenye- kiti wa baraza la mapinduzi (opening of the school, executed by his Excellency, the Chairman of the Revolutionary Council) saa 12.30: Mwisho wa sherehe (end of ceremony) In the context of the opening ceremony of the CCK on 25 March 1972, Musa Makungu was nominated as the first Principal of the Chuo. By 19 January 1972, a third ‘religious’ class with fourteen students had already been opened and on 16 August 1972, the first fourteen students from Pemba started to attend to these ‘religious’ classes for teacher training (ZNA AD 1/137), although ‘proper’ teacher training started in 1977 only (IC72, 13.8.2002). The CCK thus became an institution for the training of teachers in government secondary and primary schools in Zanzibar, like the former Muslim Academy until 1965. The first rudimentary syllabus (VII) of the CCK in 1972 consisted of the following disciplines (ZNA AD 1/137). In the first years, classes (chuma) were mixed (boys and girls): class 1 and 2: the children learn Kuran and to recite. class 3: Kuran, tafsir of some small suras, language, history of Islam and ibadat. class 4: continuation of the curriculum of class 3. class 5: the same: Kuran and tafsir, ibadat, history. class 6: ibid. class 7: ibid. class 8: ibid., in addition, sheria (Islamic law), in particular, bei (sale, transaction), ijara (hire and lease), wakfu (pious foundation, mort- main), wasia (legacy, testament), ndoa (marriage), mirathi (inheritance) On 4 September 1972, Musa Makungu proposed the integration of new subjects such as physics, mathematics, biology, chemistry, English, Kiswahili, siasa (politics) and geography into the syllabus (ZNA AD 1/137). On 7 November 1972 a visit by the chairman of the department of education of the ASP and the Minister of Education, Hassan Nassor Moyo, took place and they recognized the work of the CCK (ZNA AD 1/137). The fact that Abeid Amani Karume had supported the reopening of the CCK, that he had encouraged the rebuilding of ‘religious’ teaching and that he had taken part in the 444 chapter eight opening ceremony of the CCK on 25 March 1972, just two weeks before he was assassinated on 7 April 1972, in fact gave his successor, Aboud Jumbe, the chance to continue this legacy of the late Karume years and even to refer to Karume in order to legitimize the development of Islamic education as a policy of the government. Jumbe, who had started his career as a teacher, was open for issues of education, as was his minister of education, Hassan Nassor Moyo, who had ended the restrictive policies of his predecessor in office, Ali Sultan Issa (see chapter 9). Consequently, it was possible to write a first report on the CCK in 1972 that recalled the major events of the year, such as the opening of the CCK by Marehemu Mzee wetu mpenzi aliyekuwa Rais wa ASP, Mwenyekiti wa Baraza la Mapinduzi na Makamo wa Kwanza wa Rais, Sheikh Abeid Amani Karume (‘Our beloved father and leader of the ASP, chairman of the revolutionary council and first President, Sheikh Abeid Amani Karume’, ZNA AD 1/137). On 23 March 1973, a revised primary and secondary school syllabus was presented: ‘The students will continue their studies (according to the syllabus) even on secondary level. However, their studies will be reduced (in size); then (at the same time), religious studies will be added’ (wanafunzi hawa wataendelea na masomo yao ya sekondari lakini masomo hayo yatapunguzwa na badala yake kujalizwa masomo ya dini) (ZNA AD 1/137). The revised syllabus included six teaching periods (vipindi) for tafsir ya kuran, six for sheria, three for history and four for lugha kiarabu. In 1973, a first annual report was written by Ahmad Hamid Mansab and again mentioned that the CCK had been opened by Abeid Amani Karume on 25 March 1972. The school now had 26 students and four teachers, among them two Egyptians. At the end of the year there were still 19 students, seven students had moved to other schools. The expansion of the syllabus had been approved and the syllabus now provided teaching for ‘tafsiri ya kuran, sheria ya kiislamu, historia ya kiislamu, sunna za Mtume, hati na imla, kiswahili, siasa, kiingereza, geography, physics, chemistry, biology and mathematics’. The report also contained a list of the Qur ān teachers in Unguja (179 names in 1973). In April 1974, the CCK got its first official outside support, from Sudan, in the guise of a visit of the Sudanese Ambassador, Ahmed M. Diab, to Tanzania (ZNA AD 1/137). On 14 June 1974, another meeting with the ministry of education took place that discussed the objectives of the CCK. The 1974 annual report (as of 22 December 1974) repeated the history of the The muslim academy 445 academy, following the discursive structure of annual reports of the colonial period. In 1974, a first teacher came from Dar es Salaam, and some students went to India to continue their education. In 1974, Tafsiri ya Kuran and Hotuba za Ijumaa (‘Friday sermon’) were taught by Musa Makungu, Ahmad Hamid Mansab, Juma Abd al- Wadud and Ali Khatib Mranzi, while Dini was taught by Kassim Fatawi Isa, the son of the Chief Qā ī, Said Ahmad Darwesh and Said Tumba. In 1974, the CCK already had eleven teachers, namely, Musa Makungu, the director, Ahmad Hamid Mansab, the deputy director who died in 1977 and was replaced by another teacher, Juma Abd al-Wadud, Ali Khatib Mranzi, Kassim Fatawi Isa, Said Ahmad Darwesh, Said Tumba, Haji Chum Musa, Saidi Saleh, Fatawi Tahir and Azad Rashid. There were 88 students. ‘Dini’ was defined in the report as the memorization of some sūras of the Qur ān, while ‘tafsiri ya Kuran’ was done on the basis of the sūrat al-fāti a and the juz amma up to sūrat al-falaq (ZNA AD 1/137). In 1975, some teachers, including the director, went on a round trip to visit religious schools in Pemba and to evaluate their teaching in Kurani, tafsiri, sheria and tarehe (ZNA AD 1/137). In late 1975, the first proper syllabus for primary and secondary school teaching in the Diānāt (Silabasi ya dini katika skuli za msingi na skuli za sekondari) and Arabic as developed by the CCK was presented and was taught from 1976 not only at the CCK but also in the ‘religious’ classes in Zanzibar’s primary and secondary schools. This syllabus (VIII) covered education in ‘Dini’, i.e. Qur ān, tafsīr, lugha, sheria, Sunna, taw īd and tarehe (history). The texts for these disciplines were based on Shāfi ī fiqh, al-Nasafī’s tafsīr, al-Nawawī’s kitāb al-arbaīn, a text by usayn Makkī in taw īd, as well as the tafsīr al-na w by Zaki Suwaylim and Abd al-Sāmī al-Simbātī (ZNA AD 1/137). In primary school, the students in the first class darasa( la kwanza) started with: a. Qur ān: sūrat al-nās (114) to sūrat al- uhā (93) and memorize sūrat al-fātia (1) and from sūrat al-nās (114) to sūrat al-kawthar (108). b. In sharī a and tawīd they learn the basics of prayers, the numbers of the rak āt etc., c. while in sunna (adīth) they are taught the pillars of Islam. II. Second class a. Qur ān from sūrat al-layl (92) to the end of sūrat al-burūj (85), while they memorize from sūrat al-mā ūn (107) to sūrat al-zalzalah (99). 446 chapter eight

b. In sharī a and tawīd they study the basic conditions for prayers and jum a prayers, c. while in sunna they study the importance of reading the Qur ān, and of the five prayers, as well as respect for all human beings na( heshima ya binadamu). III Third class a. Qur ān, from sūrat al-muaffifīn (83) to sūrat al-naba (78), while they memorize from sūrat al-bayyinah (98) to sūrat al-layl (92). Also they do tafsīr from sūrat al-fātia and sūrat al-nās (114) to sūrat al-ikhlā (112). b. In sharī a they expand on the prescriptions linked with prayers and ritual washing. c. In sunna they learn about the importance of reading the Qur ān and the importance of Islam for all human beings. d. In history they read about the Prophet’s life and life in Mecca before and after Islam. IV Fourth class a. The Qur ān from sūrat al-mursalāt (77) to sūrat al-jinn (72), memorization advances from sūrat al-shams (91) to sūrat al-āriq (86), while tafsīr is done from sūrat al-masad (111) to sūrat al- kawthar (108). b. In sharī a and tawīd students learn further prescriptions on prayers and ablutions (wudhuu), as well as some theological positions on the uniqueness of God (kull huwa al-llāh). c. In sunna students learn about how to behave with respect to guests, neighbors etc.; d. while in ta rīkh students continue with the life of the Prophet. V Fifth class a. Qur ān from sūrat nū (71) to sūrat al-mulk (67), with memorization from sūrat al-burūj (85) to sūrat al-takwīr (81), and tafsīr from sūrat al-kawthar (108) to sūrat al-mā ūn (107). b. In sharī a and tawīd students learn about specific forms of prayer, such as tayammum, and about trust in the books of God, the different prophets that God has sent, and how they are presented in the Qur ān. c. In sunna, students continue to learn about the importance of prayers and the love of the Prophet (mapenzi juu ya mtume). d. In history, students learn about religion before Islam, as well as life and society before Islam. VI Sixth class a. Qur ān from sūrat al-tarīm (66) to sūrat al-jum ah (62), while memorization continues from sūrat abasa (80) to sūrat al-naba (78) and tafsīr from sūrat al-qāri ah (101) to sūrat qadr (97). b. In sharī a and tawīd students learn about the rules of menstrua- tion (hedhi), the angels and jinns. The muslim academy 447 c. In sunna students continue with the regulations of imān and the obligation to help each other. d. In history, students learn about the life of the Prophet, the Quraish tribe in Mecca, the aāba of the Prophet and the career of the Prophet until his journey to al-ā if. VII Seventh class a. Qur ān from sūrat al-aff (61) to sūrat al-mujādilah (58); they memorize from sūrat al-mursalāt (77) to sūrat al-muddathir (74), while tafsīr continues from sūrat al- alaq, 96 (which is also called ‘iqrā’, as the first aya of the sūra starts with the words ‘iqrā bi-ismi rabbika’, RL), to sūrat al-shams (91). b. In sharī a and tawīd students learn more about juma prayers, the conditions of juma prayers, the proper behaviour in mosques, the day of judgment (siku ya mwisho), etc., c. while in sunna they learn about the differences between good and bad things. d. In history they learn about the mi rāj, the hijra, the beginning of Islam in Medina and the coming of the Prophet to Medina, the first mosques and the relationship with the Jews, as well as the relationship between Anār and Muhājirūn. VIII Eighth class a. Qur ān: from sūrat al-adīd (57) to sūrat al-dhāriyāt (51), memorization (kuhifadhi) from sūrat al-qiyāma (74) to sūrat al-muzam- mil (73), tafsīr from sūrat al-balad (90) to sūrat al-āriq (86). b. Sharī a and tawīd: other forms of prayer, such as prayers for rain (sala ya kuomba mvua), alāt al-tarāwī, alāt al- īd, as well as zakāt al-fir and zakāt in general. c. Sunna: the Prophet and Islam, the things that should be followed and those that should be rejected. d. History: the battles of Badr and Uud and the relationship with the Jews. IX Ninth class (form I secondary school): a. Qur ān: reading from sūrat qāf (50) to sūrat Muammad (47), memorization from sūrat al-jinn (72) to sūrat al-āqqāh (69), tafsīr from sūrat al-burūj (85) to sūrat al-infiār (82). b. sharī a and tawīd: all rules regarding ajj and umra, more about the position of the Prophets in the Qur ān. c. Sunna: the importance of the niyya in imān with respect to all things etc.; the faith to follow everything that was commanded by the Prophet. d. History: the treaty of Hudaybiya, the conquest of Mecca and the death of the Prophet. X Tenth class a. Qur ān from sūrat al-aqāf (46) to sūrat al-shūra (42), memorization from sūrat al-qalam (68, also called ‘nūn’, as the āyāt of the 448 chapter eight

sūra rhyme on nūn) to sūrat al-mulk (67), tafsīr from sūrat al-takwīr (81) to sūrat al-naba (78). b. sharī a and tawīd: the regulations concerning transactions and business; the belief that Prophet Muammad was the last Prophet and that his prophecy completed the sharī a. c. Sunna: the importance of helping each other; Islam is your own (personal) affair: there is no discomfort or constraint (Uislamu mambo yake ni mepesi—hakuna takilifu wala nguvu). d. History: the history of the four rightly guided successors of the Prophet. XI Eleventh class a. Qur ān from sūrat fuilat (41) to sūrat ād (38); memorization of sūrat al-ujurāt (49) and sūrat al-ashr (59); tafsīr of the same sūras, i.e. sūrat al-ujurāt (49) and sūrat al-ashr (59). b. sharī a and tawīd: the regulations concerning zinā , the practice of drinking wine and other practices, the regulations concerning jihād. Proofs for the power (uwezo) of God as shown in sūrat al-rūm (30; aya 18 to 27) as well as sūrat al-waqi ah (56; aya 58 to 74). c. Sunna: what is going to happen at the yaum al-qiyāma (siku ya kiyama); the meaning of faith in Islam, etc. d. History: the dynasty of the Ummayyads, Abbasids, the history of the state of al-Andalus and the spread of Islamic civilization in Europe. XII Twelfth class a. Qur ān from sūrat al-āffāt (37) to sūrat al-azāb (33); memorization of sūrat al-jum ah (62) and sūrat Muammad (47); tafsīr of the same sūras. b. sharī a and tawīd: the regulations concerning brideprice, divorce and other matters of personal law concerning the relations between men and women; the importance of the faith in qadr (kudura, predestination, fate) etc.; proof of the uniqueness (umoja) of God as shown in sūra al-naml (27, aya 59-64) as well as of the resur- rection of all men as shown in sūrat yā sīn (36; aya 77 to the end of the sūra). c. Sunna: the regulations concerning alāl and arām, the importance of firmness in religion. d. History: the history of the crusades, the spread of Islam in Africa and in the different parts of Africa; the civilization of Islam as the world’s most superior civilization. XIII Thirteenth class a. Qur ān: sūrat al-sajdah (32) to sūrat al- ankabūt (29); memorization and tafsīr of sūrat al-nūr (24). b. sharī a and tawīd: the regulations concerning waqf, freedom in Islam, equality and justness in Islam, etc.; the belief that there is The muslim academy 449

only one God and the reasons for your isolation (upweke) in life as a single human being in the life of the society. c. Sunna: the importance of doing good things; the things that have to be done after death; firmness in religion, etc. d. History: the students will learn how Islam has become the basis for the development of sciences such as medicine, geography, astrology, philosophy and history, and that Islam demands justice (uadilifu), equality (usawa), democracy (kushauriana) and good behavior (na tabia njema). In 1976, the Chuo had 409 students in three forms (I, A and B, 79 students; I, C and D, 116 students; I, E and F, 101 students; II, A and B, 60 students and III, 59 students), taught by six teachers, namely Ameir Tajo, Kassim Fatawi Isa, Abu Zaed, Mahmoud Said, al-Bashir Ibrahim and Ahmed Ali, the latter both Sudanese. They taught Arabic language in classes I and II as well as tafsīr, Sunna, Arabic and arf in class III. In addition, there was a tajwīd class taught by Muhammad Muhammad Ramadhani.13 In the same year, the first 18 students graduated and started to work as teachers (tumewachukuwa kufanya kazi ya walimu) (ZNA AD 1/137). In a letter of 20 May 1976, the Director of the CCK, Musa Makungu, told the Assistant Secretary of the ASP (department elimu) that the efforts to start teacher training (Mafunzo ya walimu) had so far been negative for a number of reasons. In particular, the teachers’ training was not broad enough as it did not cover important disciplines such as mathematics, geography, physics, chemistry, biology, English and Kiswahili. This letter was answered on 8 June 1976 by the Assistant Secretary of the ASP (department elimu), who asked Musa Makungu to start teacher training soon (tafadhali mafunzo ya walimu yaanze haraka) and to get support from the Nkrumah TTC to overcome the shortage of trained teachers (ZNA AD 1/37). In 1977, the teachers at the CCK were (ZNA AD 23/21): 1. Musa Makungu (Mkuu wa Chuo; kuran, hotuba and others; d. 2007).

13 In late 1976, the number of teachers at the CCK had grown considerably (to 17), and so had the number of their teaching periods (idadi ya vipindi). They were Abu Zaed (9), Mahmoud Sayyid Amir (11), Ahmed Ali (12), al-Bashir Ibrahim (11), Kassim Fatawi Issa (12), Said Ahmed Darwish (6), Ali Khatib Mranzi (7), Mwalimu Ramadhani (7), Bibi N.Y. Hassania (6), Abdulfatah Imbaby (5), Bw. Gaber (11), Bw. Sakhar (6), Fatawi Tahir (9), A.M. Shein (8), Mahmoud Rajab Juma (11), Bw. Mahor (10), Haji Chum Musa (15) (ZNA AD 1/37). 450 chapter eight

2. Juma Abd al-Wadud (Secretary of the Director; Koran, hotuba etc.) 3. Ali Khatib Mranzi (Koran, hotuba, etc.; 2006-2008 Chief Qā ī). 4. Masoud Almasi (from Nkrumah Teacher Training College). 5. Ahmad Ali (Sudan, dini). 6. al-Bashir Ibrahim (Sudan, dini). 7. Said Ahmad Darweish (dini). 8. Muhammad Ramadhan (Egypt, dini). 9. Abu Zaed (Egypt, dini). 10. Mahmoud Sayyid Amir (Egypt, dini). 11. Haji Chum Musa (Siasa and Swahili). 12. Mahmoud Rajab (Physics and Mathematics). 13. Abdulfatuh Imbaby (Kiingereza) . 14. Sakhar Sidqi (‘Sedky’, Egypt; biology). 15. Ahmad M. Jabir (Egypt; Jiographia). 16. Bibi Nilofer Yusuf (Kiingereza). 17. Fatawi Tahir (transferred to Utaani, Pemba). 18. Mahir Nagib (Egypt; transferred to Lumumba College). 19. Charles Njawa (mainland Tanzania; chemistry). 20. Salmin Hafidh (Swahili Methods, Teacher Training). 21. Ramadhan Hassan (Principal and General Methods of Teach- ing). 22. Jabir Hemed (Art and Visual Aids, TT) . 23. Alawy Mussa (Child Study and School Administration).

In March 1978, the Chuo had 173 students (ZNA AD 23/21):

class male female total form I A 32 8 40 form I B 29 3 32 form II 35 - 35 form III 43 - 43 form IV 23 - 23 total 162 11 173

The teaching loads of the teachers at the Chuo were as follows (ZNA AD 23/21):

teachers disciplines (number of periods) Ahmad Jalal dini (1), kiarabu (18) Abdulsatar Muhammad dini (15), kiarabu (4) The muslim academy 451

teachers disciplines (number of periods) Abdulmumin Ali dini (8), kiarabu (9) Ahmad Ali dini (13), kiarabu (3) al-Bashir Ibrahim dini (7), kiarabu (9) C. Njawa Lecture (sic) (6), chemistry (10) Salmin Hafidh Swahili (8), Swahili methods (6) Allawy Mussa science admin. (6), chemistry (6) Ali Khatib Mranzi dini (11) Ramadhan Hassan principles of teaching (4), general methods (4) Jabir Hemed arts (6) Juma Abd al-Wadud dini (4) Said Ahmad Darwish dini (2) Musa Makungu mwinyi mkuu (Director) Ijaz Mohammed English (10), mathematics (14) B. Wilson English (14) Sakhar Sidqi biology (10) - siasa (politics, not yet taught)

In 1978, the Ministry of Education asked a Sudanese teacher to revise the primary schools syllabus as developed by the CCK and to prepare a diploma course plus examination at the middle school. As a consequence, the Sudanese vice secretary for foreign affairs visited the CCK in 1978/1979 (IC3, 23.7.2002). In his ‘evaluation of the role of the Islamic Institute of Zanzibar in the training of Islamic religion teachers’, Abdallāh Alī al-āfi, who was linked with the ‘Africa Islamic Centre’ in Khartoum, remarked that religious teaching in primary and secondary schools was mostly done by graduates of the CCK and some students. The students came to study at the CCK after completing form VIII. The CCK offered a four-year course during which the national secondary school programme was taught. At the end of form IV, the students would sit for the secondary school final national exams. Those with a high standard passed to forms V and VI elsewhere, the rest stayed at the CCK where they received additional training in religion, Arabic and methods of teaching. Also, they would spend three to four months as trainee teachers in primary and secondary schools. Abdallāh Alī al-āfi observed that teaching was mostly done in Kiswahili and mistakes in Arabic were often not corrected, but he concluded: ‘The Islamic Institute is a fertile nucleus from which the country can obtain efficient teachers if it undergoes 452 chapter eight some change’ in the standard of Arabic teaching, the methods of teaching, and the supply of reference books (ZNA AD 23/21). The curriculum of the CCK was structured in the following way (numbers indicate the number of teaching periods; see ZNA AD 26/26) in 1978:

discipline form I/II forms III/IV form V/VI Arabic 7 5 11 Religion 8 8 18 (sum of diāna and Arabic) (15) (15) (29) Kiswahili 4 4 2 English 4 4 2 Mathematics 6 6 - Biology 4 4 - Chemistry 4 4 - Physics 4 4 - Geography 2 3 - Siasa 23 - Principles of education - - 2 School administration - - 2 Psychology - - 2 Arts - - 2 General methods - - 2 Swahili - - 2 total 45 45 45

The subjects taught at the CCK were thus the same subjects that were taught at Zanzibar’s primary and secondary schools, but complemented by a number of religious disciplines such as Qur ān, tajwīd, fiqh, taw īd, adīth, uūl al-fiqh and uūl al-tafsīr. Within each discipline, the teachers were allowed to define the exact syllabus. In fact, up to 2007, no official syllabus existed for the teaching of ‘Islamics’ except the draft syllabus for primary schools offered by theMunaa- mat al-Dawa al-Islāmiyya, a Sudan-based Islamic organization. Due to the fact that secondary school education was a union matter, the CCK had to follow the English language material here. In addition, the duration of classes has been shortened in recent years in government schools in Zanzibar to 35 minutes per period (‘teaching hour’) due to the need to accommodate an increasing number of students The muslim academy 453 in two shifts (morning and afternoon) in the same school buildings (IC3, 3.8.2007). According to the dalīl al-mahad al-islāmī bi-Zinjibār (‘The guide for the Islamic institute in Zanzibar’; Ziddy 2002c; IC72, 4.3.2001), the CCK became the only government institute for the training of teachers in IRI in Zanzibar and Tanzania. Apart from teacher training, the training of imāms was an important task. In general terms, the CCK offered three types of course: 1. The secondary school track, a four-year track from form 9 to form 12 with a focus on religious subjects (al-mar ala al- thanawiyya, four classes in 2001), which was closed down in 2007. 2. The teacher training track, a two-year course (mar ala ī adād al-muallimīn; eight classes in 2001), which merged into the Nkrumah TTC in 2007. 3. The diploma studies track (mar ala al-diblūm), a two-year course (two classes in 2001), which also merged into the Nkrumah TTC in 2007 (IC3, 3.8.2007). While Islamic Religious Instruction (IRI) in the secondary school track consisted of Arabic, al-tarbiya al-islāmiyya in all aspects, and fiqh, as defined by the ministry of education, the teacher training and diploma tracks included didactics and general methods of teaching. Apart from these disciplines, the secondary school syllabus of the CCK was the same as that of Zanzibar’s regular secondary schools. The language of instruction had become English by 2007, due to the implementation of union regulations regarding secondary school education (IC3, 3.8.2007). The only difference between the syllabus of the CCK and that of regular government schools was an extended, yet provisional syllabus for Arabic, religion and Islamic history of six teaching units (periods) per week. At regular government schools, these subjects were taught for two periods per week only (IC3, 6.8.2002). In 2001, the secondary school ‘Islamics’ syllabus (IX, muqarrar mahad islāmī) at the CCK, as suggested by the Munaamat al-Dawa al-Islāmiyya, consisted of: 1. al-lugha al- arabiyya, organized in the conventional way, the basic book being al-balāgha al-wā i a. 2. Ta rīkh, also following the conventional pattern, but focussing on sīra, with the conventional division of the life of the Prophet into two phases (pre-hijra, post-hijra). 3. Fiqh, emphasizing the ibādāt in all (four) courses as defined by the ministry of education, i.e. prayers, ablutions (first class), superero- 454 chapter eight

gatory prayers, Friday prayers (second class), zakāt (third class) and fasting, alāt al-tarāwī, īd-prayers, zakāt al-fir and ajj (fourth class). 4. adīth, emphasizing basics of the faith and proofs of faith (first class), the basics of prophecy (nubūwa, second class), the differences between alāl and arām (third class), and the mutashābihāt (fourth class). 5. Tawīd, the meaning of imān and the wadaniyya of God (first class), the meaning of tawīd (second class). 6. Tajwīd and tafsīr, focussing on the sūra yā sīn, as well as al-wāqi ah; the rules of tajwīd; the textbook being the kitāb al-taw īd and al-aqīda al-wāsiiyya (by al-Ghazzālī). 7. Sīra, concentrating on the life of the Prophet and the khulafā al-rāshidūn, Abū Bakr and Umar in the first class, Uthmān and Alī in the second. In 2001, the CCK had four primary school classes and four secondary school classes where students could acquire secondary school certificates, as well as two teacher training classes where students acquired a teacher training certificate, as well as, finally, two higher level classes and two teacher diploma classes. The teacher diploma classes allowed graduates to practice as teachers and, after two years of practice, to continue their studies at a university or to be employed as religious studies teachers (IC72, 4.3.2001 and IC3, 13.3.2001). In 2004, the CCK expanded the secondary school branch from form IV to include forms V and VI, and the same was done for diploma courses. Eventually, the CCK planned to grant students entry qualifications for the College of Education (IC3, 8.5.2005). While the 1970s and 1980s can thus be regarded as a time when basic structures at the CCK were re-established under the guidance of Musa Makungu, when a syllabus was developed, and new teaching staff was groomed, the 1990s were a period of routinization, under the guidance of Abd al-Razaq O. Juma. During this time, the CCK again became the most important institution for Islamic education and teacher training in Zanzibar. In the early 21st century, the development of the Chuo has become rather unpredictable, though, as was expressed in a quick succession of directors. From 1951, the directors of the Muslim Academy/CCK were: 1. Muammad Muammad al-Dahhān (1951-54) 2. Sayyid Umar Abdallāh (1954/55-64) 3. Abd al-Wārith Sa īd (1969-72, inofficial) 4. Musa Makungu (1972-84) The muslim academy 455

5. Yusuf Abd al-Rahman (1984-85) 6. Hemed Khalfan (1985-86) 7. Abd al-Razaq O. Juma (1986-2001) 8. Khamis Abd al-Hamid Khamis (2001) 9. Issa Ziddy (2001-2002) 10. Suweid Ali Suweid (2002-2003) 11. Shamim Khamis Mchano (2004-2007) In 2001, the director of the CCK, Khamis A. Khamis was appointed executive secretary of the Waqf Commission. In 2001, Issa Ziddy followed him as director of the CCK, only to move, in 2002, to the State University of Zanzibar. His successor was Suweid Ali Suweid, who, like Issa Ziddy, studied in the Sudan (BA and MA). Suweid A. Suweid also moved, in 2003, to the State University of Zanzibar. His successor as director of the CCK in 2004 was Shamim Khamis Mchano, who had graduated with a first degree from al-Azhar (IC 3, 8.5.2005). He was still director in 2007, when the CCK was closed down to make place for the Nkrumah TTC (chuo cha walimu) (see chapter 9). Until 2002, student numbers at the CCK developed in rather uneven ways, while their number exploded after 2002, due to the fact that the CCK was constrained to accept students who had failed secondary school entry exams at regular secondary schools (IC3, 13.3.2001 and later communications):

year no. of students year no. of students 1970 40 1978 173 1972 26 1996 378 1973 26 1999 407 1974 88 2001 623 1976 409 2002 655

In 2002, the classes at the CCK had the following student numbers:

class total boys girls elementary I 41 20 21 elementary II 47 24 23 elementary III 47 31 16 elementary IV 48 28 20 primary I A 83 28 55 456 chapter eight class total boys girls primary I B 63 20 43 primary I C 66 24 42 primary I D 82 36 46 primary II A 43 25 18 primary II B 44 11 33 diploma I 58 11 47 diploma II 41 24 17 total 655 272 383

In 2003, the growth in student numbers continued, due to the expansion of the CCK both as a regular secondary school and as a teacher training college. In 2003, the school already had 1139 students and in the following years these numbers continued to rise, with 1353 in 2004, 1878 in 2005, and 2471 students in 2006 (ZNA BA 58/25; 26).14 In 2001, the school had four female and 26 male teachers and three female plus three male technical staff. Two teachers came from Egypt (IC3, 13.3.2001). Yet only one teacher had a Ph.D, while seven had an M.A., thirteen a B.A., eight a diploma, and one was a shaykh without a secular education. Due to the fact that the CKK has produced, since the late 1990s, an increasing number of teachers for ‘Islamics’ who could not be employed in government schools, many graduates after graduation set up their ownmadrasa in an established mosque. In addition, an increasing number of madāris have been established which are no longer connected to a mosque (IC61, 4.8.2007; IC72, 17.8.2007).15 The proliferation of madāris has led to

14 In March 2006, these students were allocated to the following classes: 50 students in form I (24 boys, 26 girls), 53 in form II (42/11), 43 in form III (29/14), 57 in form IV (34/23), 52 in form V (27/25) and 234 (sic) in form VI (96/138). In addition, the school had 1013 students in teacher training (cheti) class I (150/863) and 668 students in teacher training class II (109/559), as well as 204 students in diploma class I (48/156) and 97 in diploma class II (30/67). 15 Muslim reformers and CCK graduates have not only gained influence in urban areas and formal institutions, but have also won considerable support in the rural areas, as I was able to witness in the context of a visit to Kendwa, one of the remotest villages in (northern) Unguja. Although the old Alawī tradition still existed in Kendwa in early 2001, the few (6 or 7) qur ānic school disciples of the old Alawī teacher were taught by a girl and were accommodated in a make-shift construction. The only mosque in the village, as well as the only concrete building, which turned out to be the village school, attended by dozens of children, were controlled by two teachers who had been educated at the CCK. Their school could not only lay claim to two classrooms equipped with blackboards, but also to a school library of impressive The muslim academy 457 increasing competition and teachers have had to fight hard for students and the support of parents. In a number of cases, the competition between teachers and madāris has created disputes between old and new madāris. In order to survive in this struggle for recognition, CCK graduates have introduced new teaching methods in their madāris, such as teaching in small groups. Also, they have introduced new textbooks, mostly of Saudi origin. These textbooks are characterized by the fact that they provide easier didactic access to disciplines and knowledge than earlier textbooks. At the same time, they stick to predefined, yet rather superficial (‘Saudi’) sets of knowledge and exclude variations in the interpretation of texts. As a result, the new textbooks establish objectified definitions of what kind of ‘Islamic knowledge’ should be seen as standard. Textbook standards as well as perceptions of Islamic education have thus been changing again in recent times (IC61, 4.8.2007; IC72, 17.8.2007). Up to 2007, the CCK was managed by a Director (mudīr) and two deputies for administration and educational affairs, as well as a management board. Major problems were lack of funds and equipment: chairs and computers, library and laboratory equipment: In 1981/82, the CCK, for instance, got 500,000 Sh. only for salaries and other expenditure (ZNA BA 6/38). Still, the CCK managed to offer training courses for external students in Arabic writing, Islamics, and tajwīd, and it organized excursions and bought books for the library. In addition, the CCK supported sports activities such as football and took part in school competitions as did other government institutions (Dalīl al-Mahad al-Islāmī bi-Zinjibār, Ziddy 2002c). Until its closure in 2007, the CCK had formally been a state-registered but not a state-financed school, although the government had paid the salaries of the teachers. The certificates of the CCK had been recognized by the state, though, and had been regarded as equivalent to the school leaving certificate of a secondary school. Graduates of the CCK were thus entitled to enter teacher training or to start studies at the College of Education. As far as finances were concerned, the CCK was originally financed by the Islamic Development Fund (Sudan), the Zanzibar Government and the Government of the Sudan. Over the years the CCK also got support from the Munaamat al-Dawa al-Islāmiyya (Sudan) as well as local embassies such as that size. Both teachers were visibly proud of having been able to win the confidence of the village population as far as the education of their children was concerned. 458 chapter eight of Dubai. In addition, the CCK was funded by the Iqrā Charitable Society and Dār al-Imān, both Saudi organizations, and the Africa Muslim Agency, a Kuwait-based organization (see chapters 3 and 9), as well as the Islamic Development Bank, based in Saudi Arabia (ZNA BA 58/14, 16, 17). In order to balance Saudi influences, the Zanzibari government supported local scholars who represented a variety of religious and political orientations that were reproduced in government institutions, in particular, in the Waqf Commission and in the Ministry of Education (IC3, 23.7.2002). The CCK has thus formed an ‘Islamic façade’ which could be used by the revolutionary government of Zanzibar for propagandistic purposes and the cultivation of ties with Muslim donor countries. Since the 1970s, graduates of the CCK have studied in Arab countries, mostly Sudan and Saudi Arabia, while teachers at the CCK were trained in Saudi Arabia, Sudan and Egypt. In addition, the CCK had some Egyptian and Sudanese teachers. Until 2007, the CCK consisted of two major school buildings. All classrooms were equipped with blackboards, desks and chairs; chemistry and physics classrooms had the necessary equipment. In addition, there was an administrative building and a school library where the standard works of Islamic learning could be found: copies of the Qur ān, tafsīr collections, fiqh (all schools, but a concentration of the Shāfi īmadhhab ), uūl al-fiqh, grammar but also books on history, chemistry, mathematics, physics, social sciences, and other subjects. In 2004, parts of the school grounds were to be put up for sale to finance the construction of additional buildings (personal observations RL; IC3, 13.3.2001). So far, these expansion plans have not materialized. Rather, in July 2007 the revolutionary government decided to close down the CCK for good (IC73, 25.7.2007; IC71, 25.7.2007; IC72, 27.7.2007; IC3, 30.7.2007). The background to this development was a decision by the Zanzibari government to accord priority to the development of Zanzibar’s State University (SUZA, see chapter 9) and to rededicate funds and existing structures for that purpose, in particular buildings. Because of this decision, the campus of the Nkrumah TTC at ‘Beit el-Ras’ was turned into a SUZA campus, while the Nkrumah TTC was relocated as a chuo cha walimu, a teacher training college, to Masisini, in the buildings of the CCK, which had to be closed. The closure of the CCK in July 2007 was not a complete closure, though, as the teacher training capacities and functions of the CCK, specializing in ‘Islamics’, as well as the diploma track were merged with the The muslim academy 459

Nkrumah TTC after it relocated to Masisini. At the same time, however, primary and secondary school courses were closed down completely. Thus, in July 2007 Zanzibar lost the only modern educational institution and secondary school offering a focus on ‘Islamics’ in its syllabus. A tradition which had started in 1952 with the Muslim Academy, and which had been resumed in 1972 as the CCK, came to an end in 2007. 460 chapter eight indeterminacyIslamic andeducation the comparative in revolutionary method zanzibar461

CHAPTER NINE

THE POLITICS OF ISLAMIC EDUCATION IN REVOLUTIONARY ZANZIBAR

9.1. The Legacy of the Revolution I: Islam in Revolutionary Zanzibar

The representation of Zanzibar’s post-revolutionary history has been influenced since 1964 by a ‘civil war of memories’ between the supporters of the revolution and its opponents and victims (Loimeier 2006c). Karume’s efforts to marginalize or eliminate any potential threat to his regime, including the religious establishment, were and are interpreted by many opponents of the revolution as an anti-religious policy. Supporters of the revolution, by contrast, contextualize anti-religious policies as being part of a larger policy of ‘Africanization’, or even completely deny any anti-religious acts. In this chapter, established wisdom about the policies of the revolution will be presented and challenged, first with respect to educational policies (chapter 9.1.), then with respect to school development (chapter 9.2.), and the development of Qur ānic schools (chapter 9.3), and finally syllabus development (chapter 9.4.). An overview of the contemporary situation of different types of school (Qur ānic schools, government schools and new models of education) concludes this presentation of the course of Islamic education in Zanzibar in post- revolutionary times (chapter 9.5.).1

1 The sources for this chapter were the respective files in the ZNA on the development of education after 1964, in particular ZNA AD 20, especially AD 20/35, which extensively covers the years after the revolution in the sphere of education, then AD 30/19, AD 33/12-16, BA 6, 68, 81, in addition to Ziddy’s work (2001), and numerous discussions, particularly with IC18 (18.2.2001), IC20 (13.1.2002), IC21 (5.9.2002), IC25 (9.3.2001), IC26 (8.8.2002), IC39 (20.3.2001), IC41 (17.8.2002), IC67 (3.4.2005), IC72 (4.3.2001), IC73 (5.9.2002, 4.3.2003), IC77 (23.2.2001) and IC82 (26.2.2001; 12.8.2002). Equally, a number of texts on the revolution written by both Zanzibaris and non-Zanzibaris, such as ‘Babakerim’ (1975/1994), Lodhi/Rydström (1979), Bur- gess (1999), Purpura (1997), Nisula (1999) or the Afro Shirazi Party documentation of the revolution of 1974 were consulted, but also memoirs such as those by al-Barwānī (1996), those documented by Barwani (at al., 2003) or those of Ali Sultan Issa (ASI). Memories of the early years after the revolution are still contradictory, though. Ali Sultan Issa, who was minister of education from December 1964 to 1968, 462 chapter nine

When describing aspects of my research in Zanzibar in a number of public lectures (mihadhara), for instance in the Sultan’s Palace (30.8.2002; 20.2.2003), in the College of Education (20.8.2002) and in Kikwajuni (2.3.2003), audiences not only accepted my presentation, but often added to my rather critical account. At the same time, this chapter will show that revolutionary politics were far too contradictory and far too inconsistent to allow for just one interpretation. A number of decisions and developments show that revolutionary politics were not as negative as many opponents of the revolution say. The revolutionary regime admitted a number of exceptions to its own rule. Revolutionary discourses and educational policies were far from being hegemonic. When Zanzibaris describe the revolution, they often refer to well known events of a rather disruptive character. Their tale frequently points out that the old system of education broke down after the revolution and that Zanzibar’s intellectual elite was virtually eliminated in 1964. Many scholars of the Manab, Jamal al-Layl, Bā Kathīr and Sumay families left, and the Alawī tradition of learning came to an end. Thousands of books were burned or stolen, religious scholars were imprisoned, beaten up or expelled. In their purges, the ‘largely illiterate soldiers of the revolution’ destroyed not only old texts in Arabic on healing, astrology and numerology but also texts on Islamic law, and even copies of the Qur ān, which were mistaken for ‘magic books’ (Purpura 1997: 140). In some cases, mosques were destroyed, or work on them was stopped, as in the case of the ‘Barza’ mosque. Karume allegedly ordered the destruction of the ‘Blue Mosque’ in Fungoni, that was later rebuilt by Salmin Amour, and of a mosque in Kilimani that was removed for the construction of new housing blocks and rebuilt at another place. Also, private libraries were destroyed, or were dissolved and lost. Imāms were deposed and replaced by government appointees. In addition, waqf properties were taken over by the revolutionary government, and mosques that were part of a waqf were no longer maintained. As a result, their condition deteriorated. Karume also stopped the īd al- ajj celebrations and Ramadan sermons. Īd prayers in mosques were forbidden and instead were celebrated at the ASP headquarters in Vikokotoni. for instance, denied that copies of the Qur ān had been burned in the revolution (as implied by al-Barwānī 1996) and that religious education was stopped (IC26, 25.5.2004). According to him, Qur ānic schools were closed ‘temporarily only’ (in 1967) in order to ‘examine’ the teachers (communication Ali Sultan Issa, 9.7.2004). Islamic education in revolutionary zanzibar 463

Even graveyards and the graves of some saints and scholars were destroyed, such as, for instance, the grave of Shaykh Abd al-Fatā near the Immigration Office, and that of Mwinyi Makimba in front of the Mnazi Mmoja hospital. The polite form of addressing people as ‘shaykh’ was replaced by ‘ndugu’ (comrade) and schools in revolutionary Zanzibar came to function as sites of generational conflict: ASP youth were ‘empowered by the party to discipline their teachers, many of who still identified with the previous regime’ (Burgess 1999: 42). An important element of the revolutionary discourse after 1964 was the fight against popular religion and un-Islamic innovations (bida). Karume, in particular, agitated against different forms of ‘superstition’. In his struggle against popular culture and so-called features of ‘religious superstition’, as unwelcome things were called, Karume prohibited public mawlid celebrations, dhikr and ziyāra activities (IC 82, 26.2.2001; Purpura 1997: 138). He also tried to stop the activities of the wachawi (‘sorcerers’), wapungaji (spirit healers), and waganga (healers) by banning possession cults and uganga practices.2 The repression of uganga and other popular magico-religious rituals particularly hit Qādirī and Shādhilī scholars who had concentrated on these ritual activities. The same applied to the ban on the dhikr, which particularly affected the Qādiriyya (IC20, 13.1.2002). The campaign against popular activities, religious practices and specific features of everyday life, such as private or public mawlid celebrations, was to last, in more or less intensive terms, until 1972, when Karume was killed in an abortive coup. Moral rigorism was kept alive, however, by Karume’s successor, Aboud Jumbe (1972-1984), who started a period of bureaucratization of the revolution. The increasing formalization of the regulations for uganga ceremonies forced people and practitioners to get special permission when they wanted to organize an uganga meeting (Nisula 1999: 43). Only under Ali Hassan Mwinyi’s administration (1984/85) did government efforts to control the social and religious life of Zanzibari

2 This policy has been contradicted by rumors that Karume himself had amganga who advised him to fight the religious scholars (IC73 and IC 21, both 5.9.2002). Despite these allegations, uganga texts were confiscated and burned (Purpura 1997: 140). Yet the formal ban on uganga ceremonies did not stop these activities or limit the popularity of these rituals. Only an effective new health care system could have threatened the therapeutic position of possession healing and healers. Yet such a system was never established. As a consequence, uganga retained its social importance and the waganga continued their work (Nisula 1999: 46). 464 chapter nine citizens become less arbitrary. To this day, however, public religious or social events, such as taarab concerts, mawlid celebrations, football matches or conferences, both national and international, have to be sanctioned by the Ministry of Interior. And to this day any ‘Islamic’ activity has to be registered by the Chief Qā ī and the Muftī (Purpura 1997: 355-6; see also chapter 3). The 1964 revolution meant a real break in Zanzibar’s development, not only because Karume initiated an anti-religious policy that was influenced by the ‘comrades’, the left wing of the revolution led by the Umma party, which maintained strong links with Cuba, China, the Soviet Union, Bulgaria and East Germany. Ali Sultan Issa, the Minister of Education between late 1964 and 1968, was in fact an Umma member and a close associate of ‘Babu’. As Minister of Education, he was responsible for a series of ‘anti-religious’ policies. Under his administration, religious teaching (Islamic Religious Instruction) at government schools was abolished in 1965 and the Muslim Academy closed, while government Qur ānic school teachers were finally sacked on 1 April 1967. The teaching of Islam (religion, Qur ān) was stopped with the argument that the government ‘was not responsible for the religion of the population’ (Ziddy 2001: 61). When parents later dared to protest, Karume laconically responded in a speech in front of teachers in 1969: ﻟﻴﺴﺖ ﻣﻦ ﺃﻫﺪﺍﻑ ﺣﻜﻮﻣﺘﻜﻢ ﻋﺪﻡ ﺗﺪﺭﻳﺲ ﺍﻟﺪﻳﻦ ﻷﻭﻻﺩﻛﻢ, ﺇﻧﻤﺎ ﻫﺪﻓﻬﺎ ﺇﺩﺧﺎﻝ ﻣﻮﺍﺩ ﺟﺪﻳﺪﺓ ﺗﻔيﺪ ﺯﻧﺠﺒﺎﺭ ﺍﻟﻴﻮﻡ, ﻣﺜﻞ ﺍﻟﻠﻐﺔ ﺍﻟﻔﺭﻧﺴﻴﺔ ﻭ ﺍﻟﻠﻐﺎﺕ ﺍﻷﺧﺮﻯ.

It is not (among) the aims of) ﻓﺄﺧﺮﺟﺖ ﺍﻟﺪﻳﻦ ﻛﻰ ﺗﺪﺭﺱ ﻓﻲ ﺍﻟﻤﺴﺄ. your government (to overcome) the lack of religious education for your children. Rather, it’s (i.e. the governments) objective is to introduce new disciplines that are useful for today’s Zanzibar, such as the French language or other languages. (For that reason) religion (as a discipline) had to be removed (from the syllabus) and should be (a matter of) teaching (only) in the evening (classes) (Ziddy 2001: 61). In the context of a visit to Egypt together with Nyerere in 1967, Karume also stopped the grants for all students who had been sent to Egypt for studies and training since 1958 (Ziddy 2001: 61). Some of them returned to Zanzibar and possibly formed the nucleus of a new ‘reformist’ movement in Zanzibar, while others stayed in Egypt and continued to study on their own. Among these students was Musa Makungu, who was later to become Chief Qā ī (IC72, 4.3.2001). Islamic education in revolutionary zanzibar 465

Karume and Ali Sultan Issa, in particular, were accused of having humiliated3 and imprisoned scholars and of having forced religious scholars such as Abdallāh āli al-Farsy or Sayyid Umar Abdallāh into exile (see chapter 7). In their place, the Karume administration appointed local scholars who were willing to condone revolutionary policies. In mosques, schools and law courts, religious scholars were replaced by religious functionaries nominated by the revolutionary government, but often not accepted by the population. The new scholars did not have the reputation of scholars such as Umar b. Sumay. Muhammad Latif, a Qādirī scholar, said, as quoted by Purpura: ‘Zanzibar lost the last of the great men of Islamic learning, the men who should have become the mentors of today’ (Purpura 1997: 136). Even Abdallāh āli al-Farsy who had sympathized with the revolution insofar as the revolution had put an end to ‘inequality’ finally fled and some of those who stayed, ‘mysteriously died before their time’, such as Sulaymān Alawī Jamal al-Layl (d. 1970), Amad āmid Manab (d. 1977) and Juma Abd al-Wadud (d. 1978/79) (Purpura 1997: 136). Many families of scholars emigrated in or after 1964, leaving behind just one family member, mostly young men who tried to continue Islamic scholarship, even if on a lower level and in unofficial and informal ways. These young men were not able, however, to attain the degree of scholarly training and reputation that had been characteristic of former generations of scholars. However, people still continued to approach these few remaining members of respected scholarly families, even if they had lost their institutional backing. In this way, scholarly traditions continued to exist, though in marginal ways, outside the framework of Zanzibar’s

3 Revolutionary times were characterized by a series of arbitrary acts against respected scholars, although Karume intervened in some cases to prevent stark humiliation. A well known episode happened immediately after the revolution in 1964, when Umar b. Sumay, like the other inhabitants of Malindi quarter, was forced to parade in underwear in front of the revolutionary leader, Okello. Before Okello came, Karume passed by, however, and asked the retired Chief Qā ī what he was doing, and wanted to send him home. Sumay allegedly responded that he and his family, as law-abiding citizens, did what they had been commanded to do. In 1967, Karume remained inactive, however, when Ali Sultan Issa summoned those members of the Farsy family who were employed by the revolutionary government, Abdallāh āli al-Farsy and Sha bān al-Farsy, as well as two others, and dismissed them summarily from service (IC82, 12.8.2002, see also chapter 7). Although this episode has been disputed by Umma members (IC41, 17.8.2002), others have been adamant in confirming it. In fact, most members of the Farsy family left Zanzibar in 1967. 466 chapter nine educational institutions (IC18, 18.2.2001). The respected scholars of pre-revolutionary days had gone, however, and a long tradition of Islamic learning and scholarship was broken. This situation changed only in the early 1980s, when a new generation of reformers, often educated in Saudi Arabia, gained a foothold and succeeded in winning some social influence (IC25, 9.3.2001; IC77, 23.2.2001). Although these policies can be seen as a proof of the anti-religious character of the revolution, Karume was probably not anti-religious in principle but ‘indifferent’ with respect to religion.4 While hitting out against what he perceived as opposition forces, including religious groups such as the Alawī scholars, he was concerned foremost with power. Individuals and groups that could become a threat were consequently co-opted, killed or expelled. Karume thus followed a conscious policy of eliminating or marginalizing any group that he deemed to be a challenge to his claim of hegemonic power. For this reason he moved against left-wing groups, as well as against conser- vatives and liberals, against religious scholars, ethnic groups and associations, and against any formation that seemed to infringe his claim to absolute power. This policy also affected Comorian communities in Zanzibar, such as the Sumay or the Jamal al-Layl families. Karume once even remarked with respect to the Alawī families: ‘When I hold a speech and they address the public as well, whom do you think will people follow?’ He thus confessed to the popularity of the Alawī scholars. The Comorians were eventually declared foreigners and had to emigrate or become Tanzanian citizens (IC41, 17.8.2002). In the early 1970s, Karume seems to have increasingly accepted Zanzibar’s Islamic legacy, however, and was willing to reopen the Muslim Academy. In public speeches, he quoted from the Qur ān. In the context of a visit in 1970 to Zanzibar’s biggest secondary school, Lumumba, which was still regarded as an elite school, he started his speech with remarks on the sūrat al-fīl and pointed out

4 Rather, it could be said that the Karume government was characterized by its anti-intellectualism. Most government members had only primary school education. Aboud Jumbe was one of the few members of the Karume government who had attended a secondary school (Bakari 2001: 109ff). Karume was also deeply suspicious of experts: ‘He assiduously avoided promoting educated people to important positions and the literacy rate of his revolutionary council was pretty low’ (Lodhi/Ryd- ström 1979: 148). Everything could be done, according to him, without expertise as long as one had the political willpower and trusted one’s own mental and physical resources. Islamic education in revolutionary zanzibar 467 that the Qur ān and Muammad were not only a book and a Prophet for Muslims but a book and a Prophet for all humans, and then continued: The revolutionary council follows the Koran step by step in its work. The Koran says that people should help each other in every possible way. The revolutionary council has thus said that we should have free hospital treatment and that patients should get food and all other things for free. In that (policy) we follow the Koran which wants people to help each other. Now we say: let’s relieve you from school fees. Each human being has the right to go to school (to take up school) and for that reason the youth and our land will get free school (Baraza la mapinduzi linafuata Kuran moja kwa moja katika kutekeleza kazi zetu. Kuran inasema watu wasaidiane kwa kila namna. Baraza la mapinduzi linasema hospitali ziwe bure wagonjwa wapate chakula na kila kitu bure. Hivyo ni kuifuata Koran inayotaka watu wasaidiane wenyewe kwa wenyewe. Sisi tunasema: ondoa malipo yote katika skuli. Kila mwanadamu inafaa apate skuli, na kwa hivyo vijana wa nchi yetu wapate skuli bure) (ZNA BA 68/8, p. 12). He then compared the revolution with the battle of Badr and discussed the ‘changes in education’ (mabadiliko ya elimu) in Zanzibar. In particular, he stressed the importance of the ‘sciences’ (sayansi), and added: In this land, for many people the Koran is the most exalted book. We also glorify this book and we rely on it. It is not possible that one cheats. We know each aya. For the youth, they read in order to know and we are grateful but it is not possible that all follow ‘theory’ (nchi hii ni ya watu wenye kitabu kitukufu cha koran. Tunajivunia kitabi hicho na tunakitegemea. Hawezi mtu kutudanganya. Tunajua aya moja moja. Nyiye vijana, hayo masomo mliyo nayo tunayajua vema na tunashukuru lakini hamwezi kuwa kitu cho chote ikiwa mtategemea theory; ZNA BA 68/8, mabadiliko ya elimu Zanzibar, Hotuba ya makamo wa kwanza wa Rais mheshimiwa A.A. Karume, 21.3.1970, Chuo cha Lumumba, Zanzibar). After Karume’s assassination, the religious policy of the regime was gradually revised. The Muslim Academy had already been reopened in 1972, and the teaching of religion and Arabic was soon resumed at government schools, although there was not yet a proper syllabus (IC72, 4.3.2001). After 1972, Aboud Jumbe established the Baraza la Misikiti ya Tanzania (BAMITA, Council of Mosques of Tanzania) in order to boost the Islamic credibility of the regime, although BAMITA quickly lost its importance again when Jumbe had to retire 468 chapter nine in 1984. In contrast to Karume’s regime, Jumbe ‘steered his policy in a gentler and perhaps more rational fashion. Many of the changes put into effect since 1972, or on their way, were in fact linked to his personal initiative, in particular, within the important field of religious instruction that was deleted from the syllabus (of government schools) between 1965 and 1972’ (Lodhi/Rydström 1979: 148/9). At the same time, a new generation of religious activists emerged who introduced new ideas, often influenced by their training at Saudi Arabian universities and their contact with the ‘Wahhābī’ critique of the mawlid, the festivities in the context of the īd celebrations or the dhikr. As there were not many scholars left who were able to defend established traditions and as the government did not (yet) define its own religious position, disputes over religious issues became increasingly prominent in the 1980s (see chapter 3).

9.2. The Legacy of the Revolution II: School Development

Statistics on education after 1964 were characterized by the fact that there were only sporadic reports on education, usually written on a typewriter, and only some reports contained statistical data. The 1964 annual report was the first report after the revolution to be written in Kiswahili (ZNA BA 5/37). The report remarked: ‘In 1964, it was possible to achieve great changes in the procedure of planning in education in our islands’ (Katika mwaka wa 1964 pameweza kupa- tikana mabadiliko makubwa sana katika taratibu za mipango ya Elimu humu visiwani mwetu). The first ‘proper’ report on education was written in 1976 as part of the 1975 annual report (ZNA BA 6/32), probably as a reaction to an ASP meeting on issues of education in 1974 (ZNA BA 6/32). From 1976, reports acquired a more formal character and from 1978/79, reports were increasingly structured along predefined criteria. Only the Ripoti ya tume ya elimu Zanzibar 1982, however, contained a first proper report in Kiswahili on the development of education, following the model of the British annual reports on education. In fact, the report was a translation into Kiswahili of the last British annual report, and its version of the history of education up to 1964. After summarizing the developments in colonial times, the report continued: ‘Then came revolution on 12 January 1964 and changed the policy of education of the islands’ (kuja kwa Mapinduzi ya tarehe 12 Januari 1964, kumebadilisha sera Islamic education in revolutionary zanzibar 469 ya elimu ya Visiwani), ‘education was opened for everybody and became free’ (bila malipo) (ZNA BA 6/36). Education in Zanzibar after the revolution was theoretically based on the Tanzanian national ideology of ‘self reliance’ (Ziddy 2001: 29). This ‘socialist philosophy’ stressed the right of all Zanzibaris to education. Education was to become compulsory, free of charge, secular and uniform. Also, schools were to be established in all regions to give everybody the chance to attend a school. These aims were to be achieved, for instance, by the nationalization of all non- government, ethnic and mission schools (Ziddy 2001: 29). The objective of education policies in Zanzibar was to produce a ‘new ﻟﻘﺪ ﺇﺳﺘﻬﺪﻓﺖ ﺳﻴﺎﺳﺔ ﺍﻟﺘﻌﻠﻴﻢ ﻓﻲ ﺯﻧﺠﺒﺎﺭ ﺍﻟﻮﺻﻮﻝ ﺇﻟﻰ :generation’ of citizens Ziddy 2001: 30). The revolutionary government also) ﺗﺮﺑﻴﺔ ﺍﻟﺠﻴﻞ ﺍﻟﺠﺪﻳﺪ supported the general expansion of education, in particular with respect to youth and women. Yet, the establishment of the new system of education soon encountered problems (Ziddy 2001: 30; 61). According to the Mpango wa elimu wa muda mrefu 1981-2000 of December 1980, the time between 1964/65 and 1977/78 was even characterized as a period of ‘no development’ (hapakuwa maendeleo). In fact, planning started in 1978 only, in the guise of a three-year development plan (1978-1981) (ZNA BA 6/38). Only from 1997/98 however, did annual reports acquire the quality of pre-revolution reports regarding consistency of data as well as comprehensiveness of statistics. All charts in this chapter thus suffer from incomplete data for the period from 1964 to 1978. And although data became more consistent in the early 1980s, regional details were still missing until the early 1990s. After 1964, education was essentially administered, as before the revolution, by a Ministry of Education (wizārat al-tarbiya wa-l- talīm). Othman Sharif became the first Minister of Education, until April 1964, while Idrissa Abdul Wakil was first his deputy, then, in April 1964, became his successor. Shaaban Sudi Mponda was his ‘junior minister’ (waziri mdogo wa elimu), while Ali Mwinyigogo was his deputy (naibu waziri wa elimu). The secretariat was staffed by Ali Hassan Mwinyi and Amūr Alī Ameir. ‘Bwana’ Abdulmajid Shaaban was their assistant (msaidizi wa katibu mkuu). In December 1964, Ali Sultan Issa replaced Idrissa Abdul Wakil as Minister of Education, and remained in office until 1968, when he was succeeded by Hassan Nassor Moyo who stayed in office until 1977 (see appendix II m for 470 chapter nine all Ministers of Education). The Minister of Education also acted as chairman of the board of directors (majlis al-idāra) that was in charge of all administrative decisions. The ministry was organized in seven departments, which were divided into offices of finance, research, development and planning (takhī), the secretariat, inspection and administration, education in Pemba, maternal schools and basic education, adult education, higher education, science and technology, and, finally, the Taasisi Institute for Kiswahili and Foreign Languages (al-mu assassa al-suā iliyya wa-l-lughāt al-ajnabiyya), which was established in 1977 (Khamis 1998: 290; Ziddy 2001: 29). One of the first actions of the revolutionary government in 1964 was to reject the results of the 1963 final examinations in the primary schools, which allegedly discriminated against ‘African’ students, and to grant admission to secondary schools for the following school year (1964/65) to all pupils who had not passed the 1963 primary school graduation examinations. In addition, the separation of sexes was abolished in the classrooms (Ziddy 2001: 61). At the same time, a proportional system of admission to secondary schools was introduced and secondary schools had to accept students according to the racial quotas of the 1958 census. According to this census, 80% of secondary school places were allocated to African children, whereas 15% (13% according to Mapuri 1996: 64) were allocated to Arab children, 4% (6%) to Asian and 1% to Comorian children (Lodhi/ Rydström 1979: 145). In March 1965, these quotas were revised, so that 90% of the students admitted to secondary schools had to be Africans, 5% Arabs, 4% Asians and 1% Comorians. This system was applied until 1977 and then abolished (Clayton 1981: 143). Until 1968, admission to the junior secondary school level was still based on an entrance examination, however. Only in 1968 did the government open admission to the junior level of secondary schools and in 1988 also admission to the middle level (Ziddy 2001: 32/33). In 1969 Karume abolished the Cambridge Overseas Examination System in order to establish a new examination system, but then accepted, in 1971, the Tanzanian National Examination System (TNES) for secondary schools (Clayton 1981: 144), which was again replaced, in 1991, by the Mpango wa elimu na amali (MENA) plan. In February 1964, all existing agreements with countries such as Sudan or Egypt regarding studies abroad or grants were cancelled (Clayton 1981: 143; Ziddy 2001: 28). At the same time, British experts and expatriate teachers were dismissed. On 23 September 1964, at Islamic education in revolutionary zanzibar 471 the beginning of the new school year, the revolutionary government also abolished school fees and introduced ‘free education’, elimu bure (Ziddy 2001: 38 and Mapuri 1996: 64). Compulsory primary school education was introduced only in 1982, however, in the context of the 1982 Education Act (Khamis 1998: 290). By late 1964, thirteen new primary schools had been founded. In another highly symbolic and visible step, all existing middle and high schools were renamed after the revolution (Afro Shirazi Party 1974: 131):

Aga Khan School Kidutani School Bohora School Hamamni School Hindu Union School Shangani School Bohora Continuation School Sokomohogo School St. Monica’s School Mkunazini School St. Joseph’s School Tumekuja School Comorian School Kajificheni School Sayyida Matuka Girls’ S. Ben Bella School Sayyid Khalifa Technical S. Jamal Abdel Nasser Sec. S. Sayyid Abdallah Sec. S. Fidel Castro Sec. S. (Pemba) Sir Euan Smith Madrasa Haile Selassie Sec. S. King George VI College Lumumba College Holmwood Primary School Kidongo Chekundu School Teacher Training College Nkrumah TTC Arabic Speaking School Vikokotoni School Aga Khan School (boys) Taasisi Institute

By 1968, the revolutionary government had also nationalized eleven private schools and phased out nine (Afro Shirazi Party 1974: 131), while taking control over grant-aided and non-grant-aided schools. The decision to take over the grant-aided schools ‘as soon as possible’ was taken on 11 June 1964, to be implemented by 24 June 1964 for the following schools: 1. St. Joseph’s Convent School (prim. and sec.) 2. Roman Catholic Mission School, Wete 3. Aga Khan Boys’ School (prim. and sec.) 4. Aga Khan Girls’ School (prim.) 5. Hindu Kanya Vidyalaya (prim.) 6. Madrasa al-Muhammadieh (prim.) 7. Datu Hemani Ithnasheri Girls’ School (prim.) 8. Hindi Sunni Madrasa (prim.) 472 chapter nine

9. Jamhuri School (Wete, Pemba, formerly, Sir Said Memorial School) 10. St. Monica’s School (Mkunazini, primary) 11. St. Paul’s School (Kiungani) The executive committee for the nationalization of private schools consisted of Ali Hassan Mwinyi, Sha bān āli al-Farsy, Nurali Sherali, and Muhammad Turki. The take-over was scheduled for 1 July 1964. A letter was sent to all schools and announced: ‘To all teachers and students of grant-aided schools: as you know his Excellency Sheikh Abeid Amani Karume President of the Revolu- tionary People’s Government of Zanzibar and Pemba has proclaimed this morning that all schools in receipt of the Government grant have been nationalized. Work should go on as usual’. The declaration was signed by Karume on a sheet of paper that still carried a ‘Zanzibar Protectorate’ stamp of 26 June 1964. On 1 July 1964 the decree was printed by the government press. The take-over was executed by individual education officers such as Sha bān āli al-Farsy and Ali Kahtan (Aga Khan Boys’ School) as well as Bibi Samīra and Faisal Muhammad Said (Aga Khan Girls’ School). Subsequently these schools as well as their teachers, assets, furniture and outstanding debts became part of the government school system: ‘Some (teachers) who worked in these schools continued with their work as in the past, while some others wanted permission to retire and some were sacked’ (Wengi wa wafanyakazi katika skuli hizi waliendelea na kazi zao kama zamani na baadaye wachache waliomba ruhusa ya kuwa- cha kazi na wachache waliachishwa kazi). The Friends’ Mission School in Mkoani, Pemba was closed on 6 May 1966 only, by Ali Sultan Issa. The principal secretary at this time was still Amour Ali Ameir (ZNA AD 38/11), however, which attests to some continuities in the Ministry of Education. Since 1964, the structure of education has changed four times so far (ZNA BA 5/39). The pre-revolutionary system of eight primary school years, four secondary school years, and two high school years was retained up to 1967. This model was then replaced by an 8-2-2-2 system from 1968 to 1970 and a 7-3-1-2 system from 1971 to 1977 (Ziddy 2001: 30). From 1978 to 1992, Zanzibar had a 8-3-1-2 system, namely eight years of primary school, three years of junior secondary (al-thānawiyya al-ūlā), one year of middle secondary school (al-thānawiyya al-thāniyya) and two years of senior secondary school (al-thānawiyya al-ālī) (Ziddy 2001: 30). In 1992, this system was Islamic education in revolutionary zanzibar 473 changed again to a 7-3-2-2 system, namely seven years of primary school and three years of junior secondary (al-thānawiyya al-ūlā), concluded by an examination that allowed entry to the next stage, two years of middle secondary school (al-thānawiyya al-thāniyya), concluded by the national (Tanzanian) secondary school examination which opened up the possibility of two final years of senior secondary school (al-thānawiyya al-ālī) (Ziddy 2001: 30). Senior secondary school education was split into a natural sciences branch (ilmī) and a humanities (adab) branch, both leading to a final secondary school certificate, which in turn granted access to university (Ziddy 2001: 33). Due to the fact that secondary school education was defined, in 1964, as a union matter, union decisions have affected secondary school education in Zanzibar. The secondary school syllabus was characterized by a multitude of disciplines on the junior and middle levels, while the senior level focused on specializations that were supposed to prepare the students for future professions. Thus, there were courses in technology, development of science, psychology and pedagogics (Ziddy 2001: 34). A major problem of secondary school development was the fact that the growing number of students did not correspond to a respective growth in the number of teachers, improvement of the buildings and teaching materials. Due to union regulations, the medium of instruction in secondary school was English, which created problems since many teachers did not have the necessary qualifications. Indeed, 51% of the teachers never attained the standards established by the Ministry of Education for secondary school teaching (Ziddy 2001: 33). Again, senior secondary school levels were different from the middle and junior secondary school levels due to their internal structure, in particular the strong emphasis on completion that senior secondary schools (as regulated by union laws) required: thus, only Zanzibar’s best students got the chance to continue to the senior level. In 1995, for instance, 1577 students qualified to take part in the entrance examination, but only 132 (8.4%) passed this examination (Ziddy 2001: 33). In 2007, Kiswahili replaced English as language of instruction also in religious classes (IC3, 3.8.2007).5

5 Arabic was offered in primary schools from standard IV to standard VII (4, 4, 4 and 3 hours), while religious studies were offered in all classes from standard I to standard VIII (4, 4, 4, 3, 3, 3, 2 and 2 hours) after 1995. In secondary school, Arabic and religious studies were abolished as obligatory subjects, Arabic could be taken as an optional subject, however (ZNA BA 6/49). 474 chapter nine

With respect to planning, development was highly erratic after the revolution. Only in 1978 did first proper planning start, initially with a three-year plan, followed by a twenty-year plan in 1981. All planning suffered from a lack of funds as well as qualified personnel (Khamis 1998: 290). In 1977, additional subjects were introduced into the syllabus and classes were offered in agriculture, fishery, commerce, engineering and religious studies. However, agriculture, fishery and commerce were soon abolished again as these courses failed to fulfil expectations. A major problem of the education system was the high rate of students that broke off school or failed. This applied to 70% of all primary school pupils, while only 10% of all junior level secondary school graduates entered the middle level, and only a small percentage eventually reached the end of the middle level, which allowed them to take part in the Tanzanian national secondary school examinations (Khamis 1998: 293). Teacher training was another major problem. In 1975, the Nkrumah TTC offered teacher training courses, while others were trained at the Taasisi Institute or at the CCK, and a few at the University of Dar es Salaam (Khamis 1998: 294). But although Zanzibar had had teacher training facilities since 1923, problems were the same here as in other spheres of education, namely, a scarcity of teachers and deficient training (Ziddy 2001: 36). For the year 2000, the number of primary and secondary school teachers with and without advanced teacher training (tt) is shown in the following chart (Ziddy 2001: 36):

year with tt without tt total % without tt 1990 2821 962 3783 25.4 1991 2903 784 3667 21.3 1992 3060 1277 4337 28.0 1993 3247 1264 4511 26.6 1994 3355 1218 4573 26.6 1998 3891 1418 5309 26.6

A considerable number of teachers were thus teaching without proper teacher training. This situation started to change significantly only in the early 1990s, when secondary school graduates were allowed to teach as ‘part-timers’ in secondary schools. Yet, many teachers who took part in teacher training courses abroad did not return to teaching but were transferred to the ministry. In addition, trained teachers Islamic education in revolutionary zanzibar 475 preferred to work in the urban areas at the higher institutions of education (Ziddy 2001: 37). At the same time, the development of higher institutions of learning was rather uneven after 1964. In 1971, Karume announced a plan to establish a university (Clayton 1981: 144), which was founded almost thirty years later. In 1975, first statistical data on student distribution in classes at Zanzibar’s high schools (colleges) and schools for further and vocational education were published. According to these data, the Chuo cha Ufundi (the ‘Karume Technical College’, Karume TC) in Mbweni had 135 students, the Chuo cha Ufundi in Mikunguni had 117, the Chuo cha Walimu (Nkrumah TTC) at ‘Beit el-Ras’ 233, the Chuo cha Ukarani (secretarial school) 113, the Chuo Cha Kiislamu 85 (CCK; ZNA BA 6/44). By 1980, Zanzibar had four skuli za mchepuo (special schools), one TTC, one fundi (crafts) school as well as the Taasisi Institute. By 1995, Zanzibar also had four ‘upper level secondary schools’ which taught the senior secondary school curriculum, namely, Lumumba, Fidel Castro (Pem ba), Biashara Mombasa and Ben Bella. By 2005, their number had grown to thirteen (see below). Other institutions of higher education at that time were the Chuo Cha Kiislamu (CCK) which offered teacher training courses for Arabic and religious studies. In addition, the Islamic Academy of Pemba should be mentioned here, which was established in 2003 but was still under construction in 2006, as well as the Mahad Karume (the Karume Technical College in Mbweni) and the Nkrumah TTC, finally, the Taasisi Institute, the Institute of Health, and the Institute for Tourism (hotel management) (ZNA BA 5/39; ZNA BA 58/25; Ziddy 2001: 35). However, these institutes have been plagued by a number of problems: shortage of funds, bad housing conditions, and a lack of qualified teachers, qualified local students, books and teacher accommodation (Ziddy 2001: 35). UNESCO has supported some of these institutes since the 1970s, in particular the Karume TC. In 1991, further funds were donated for the improvement of teacher training at the Karume TC and the Taasisi, with the objective of incorporating the Taasisi into the future State University of Zanzibar (SUZA, see below; Ziddy 2001: 36). In general terms, 61.3% of all children went to school in 1967 and 85% in 1978 (ZNA BA 6/38). In 1993, 64.98% of all children between the age of 6 and 13 years were registered in schools, but only 35.38% of all children between the age of 13 and 16 years (Khamis 1998: 476 chapter nine

293). In 1994, 22,287 students were registered for standard I, representing 80.5% of the children of school age in that year, the total number being 27,350. The same can be said of 1998, when 61.7% of all children of school age were registered in standard I (27,350 out of a total of 30,508 children) (Ziddy 2001: 32). This growth in student numbers was considerable. Yet the primary school system suffered from a lack of both teaching materials and school equipment. At the same time, the teacher/student ratio in primary and secondary schools improved only slowly. It was 38:1 in 1975 and 31:1 in 1980 (ZNA BA 6/35) and has not become much better since (Ziddy 2001: 36):

year no. of ps/ss students no. of ps/ss teachers ratio 1990 116725 3754 1:31 1991 119611 3667 1:32 1992 124670 4297 1:29

The consistent neglect of education was expressed by the fact that the budget earmarked for education was rather low by African standards, other countries often devoting more than 30% of their annual budget to education. Zanzibar’s budget for education, by contrast, was reduced from 12% to a share of 10% in 1988 (Khamis 1998: 295; Ziddy 2001: 42), although it had risen in some years to 20%. Over the years, the average budget for education was 14% only (ZNA BA 58/4, 14) and in the first years after the revolution, there was no annual budget and no development plan at all. As a consequence, the standards of teaching have deteriorated considerably over the years, and the system of education has become increasingly dependent on external funding and ‘well-meaning donors’. To this day, the lack of qualified teachers, high student numbers, low salaries, bad equipment and unreflected teaching methods are serious handicaps in the field of education. The school continues to be an institution designed to impose discipline. As a consequence, the stick (fimbo) is still used for violations of school discipline, such as ‘coming too late’ or failure to do the set homework (Heiss 1994: 84). The revolutionary government has never been willing though, to relinquish control over schools and has imposed its policy on schools and teachers who became too ‘uncommitted’. In 2004, for instance, 46 out of 48 teachers at the Kajificheni Primary School, the best performing primary Islamic education in revolutionary zanzibar 477 school in Zanzibar, were transferred to other schools as a form of punishment (The Guardian, 19.8.2004). On 22 September 1993, the government eventually accepted the reestablishment of private schools outside the government school sector (Ziddy 2001: 34; Khamis 1998: 295). Since 1993, financial support for schools has increasingly come from foreign countries as well as non-governmental organizations (see appendix IV). These funds have been used to finance grants, to provide material aid, to improve adult education and to repair buildings. The deregulation of education has also opened the ‘market’ for different forms of pre-school institutions which have for some years received substantial foreign aid. Despite outside support, the Zanzibari school system still had to tackle the rapid growth of student numbers and has suffered from the fact that students were not properly taught. Also, the Ministry of Education has used a major part of the budget for salaries.6 Thus, the revolutionary government was not able, as promised at the time of the revolution in 1964, to provide all students with textbooks, writing pads or even chairs. This affected the situation in all of the 850 classrooms (with a total of 25,000 available places) in schools in Zanzibar as of 1996. In 1996, 70% of all school buildings were in need of repairs and 30% of the teachers did not have adequate teacher training (Ziddy 2001: 41). From colonial times, the revolutionary government had also inherited the problem that 65% of the adult population of Zanzibar was still illiterate in 1964. Immediately after the revolution, adult training courses were started that were initially connected with the mobilization programmes of the ASP. In the 1970s, these efforts were renewed, although the lack of teachers was a problem. In 1978, a Directorate for Adult Education (idāra talīm al-kibār) was established. The objective was to teach skills that would help adults to improve their living conditions (Ziddy 2001: 38). However, the 1991 census showed that 68% of men and 55% of women were illiterate and that the average illiteracy rate was 61% (Ziddy 2001: 38).

6 As far as expenditure was concerned, education got 8,500,000 Sh. or 15.3% of the budget in 1964/1965. In 1980/81 this sum rose to 70,415,000 Sh. or 11.5% of the budget. In 1991/92 education had a budget of 98,300,000 Sh., 79,695,000 Sh. being external funds (ZNA BA 58/4, 14). This budget rose to 1,900,045,000 Sh. in 1994/95. In 1982/83, 28,700,000 Sh. were scheduled for higher education: 15,700,000 Sh. from Zanzibar’s budget and 13,000,000 Sh. from external funds. A total of 553,700.000 Sh. were spent for all schools. The per-head expenditure was 378 Sh. per student in 1964/65, and 13,504 Sh. in 1994 (ZNA BA 6/38; Ziddy 2001: 32). 478 chapter nine

The general situation of education in Zanzibar, in 1996, as well as the situation of schools, students, teachers and other criteria such as inhabitants of single districts, ratio of students per teacher, or percentage (%) of children registered (reg.) in compulsory education (ce), is shown in the chart below (based on the 1988 census data; Ziddy 2001: 39/40; ZNA BA 5/37): region/ Z’bar West North North Centre South Miche- Wete Chake Mkoani total criterion Town A B weni (P) (P) (P) or (P) average

Sq km 16 208 211 215 453 361 291 218 202 207 2482 Population 158000 51000 60000 37000 100000 45000 25000 61000 76000 68000 681000 % of pop. 4,9 3.9 2.3 2.3 4.3 1.3 2.5 2.6 2.4 2,7 2.9% growth % child. 72.2 72.2 77.0 64.7 96.6 87.2 59.4 74.5 71.4 74.4 74.7% reg. in ps % of ps. 57.0 65.2 24.7 37.1 36.5 31.7 23.6 40.0 35.9 40.7 39.2% graduates students 155 96 81 72 78 44 88 82 85 73 85.4 per class students/ 28 31 40 31 35 21 35 30 28 26 30.5 teacher students/ 40 46 57 54 52 26 50 39 38 33 43.5 trained teacher % female 70.1 62.7 48.6 51.9 50.5 56.7 43.8 67.5 67.9 71.1 59.1% teachers % illiterate 15.0 38.6 59.6 31.1 59.6 44.5 45.9 54.2 44.7 48 42.1% adults. % of stud. 28.6 39.0 28.4 22.1 38.7 34.3 70.7 41.2 57.8 38.1 39.9% passed ss. exams

In order to overcome problems of educational development, President Salmin Amour declared the improvement of education to be a major national development objective in 1996. On 3 October 1999, the Minister of Education had to concede, however, in a speech in the House of Representatives, that the Zanzibar Education Master Plan of 1996-2006 had so far not yet even produced the results that Zanzibar had intended to achieve at the time of the revolution in 1964 (Ziddy 2001: 42). He remarked that education still did not reach the whole population: only 33% of all students obtained a middle level secondary school certificate and only 10% a higher secondary school diploma; successful students were often not able to manage life on their own after leaving school; there were discrepancies in Islamic education in revolutionary zanzibar 479 educational standards in urban and rural areas, as well as in the education of boys and girls; the system of education had failed to eradicate illiteracy; 40% of the population was still unable to read and write in 1996 and the quota of school drop-outs was still high: 400 out of 1000 students who started school, left school before gradu- ation7 (Ziddy 2001: 42). For the following charts, the statistical data for the period from 1988 to 2002 were taken from the annual reports as well as Mapuri 1996, Khamis 1998, Ziddy 2001, ZNA BA 5/37 and 39, BA 6/30, 32, 35, 36, 38, 44 and 49, BA 81/3, the annual budget speeches by the respective Ministers of Education, Masoud Umar Said, Umar Mapuri and Haroun Sulaiman, which cover school development up to 2006/2007 (ZNA BA 58/2-26), and the SMZ report for 2004/05 on education. A major problem with the data is that the recording of statistics in post-revolutionary Zanzibar was rather uneven, not only due to the fact that statistics were restarted in 1978 only, but also due to the fact that the figures are often contradictory. The figures sometimes represent the situation at the end of a school year, while at other times they refer to the beginning of the school year. The upgrading of primary schools to secondary schools offering junior secondary school level also led to inconsistencies as, for instance, in 1982, 1992, 1995 and 1998, when the number of such secondary schools increased considerably. The introduction of compulsory education in 1982, as well as the non-consideration of drop-outs boosted statistics artificially. At the same time, the Ministry of Education erroneously presented children of school age from 1982/1983 as children in school, while offering completely different figures in other parts of the official reports, where the actual number of children in school was given (see the chart above, based on the 1988 census; ZNA BA 5/37). According to the Zanzibar Education Master Plan for 1996-2006, as presented in 1996, Zanzibar had a total of around 150.000 children in school and 215,000 in 1996. It was estimated that this number would rise to 245,000 in 2000 and 280,000 in 2006 (ZNA BA 5/37), but hard school attendance figures for 1994 and 1996 suggest a

7 This phenomenon started in primary school. In 1989, for instance, 16,528 students attended the first year of primary school. After four years, their number had decreased by 3703: 22.4% of the first year students had stopped attending school between 1989 and 1993 (Ziddy 2001: 38). Still lower was the number of students who continued to attend school up to form VIII. 480 chapter nine

different picture: Only between 61.7% and 80.5% of all children in Zanzibar went to school in the different districts in 1994. Respective numbers for 1996 oscillated between 59.4% and 96.6% (see Ziddy 2001: 32). A considerable number of schools had junior secondary school classes but not secondary school status. Some of these schools were later converted into secondary schools, though, and were counted here as such, while the others were regarded as primary schools even if these schools offered a syllabus of more than four years. For the development of primary and secondary schools between 1964 and the mid-1990s, a significant rise of school numbers can be observed, as follows (Mapuri 1996: 70; see also in greater detail below):

district 1964 1995 Zanzibar Town 32 38 Zanzibar West 11 30 North A 2 21 North B 2 8 Central 8 19 South 8 19 Micheweni 2 18 Wete 9 22 Chake Chake 7 18 Mkoani 7 23 total 88 210 From 1964 to 2006, the number of primary school teachers (pst) and secondary school teachers (sst) grew in the following way (ZNA BA 58/2-26):

year pst sst total year pst sst total 1964 - - 655 1994 4573 - - 1975 1983 - - 1997 - - 5081 1980 3294 - - 1998 - - 5489 1983 3256 - - 1999 4451 1539 5990 1985 3524 847 4371 2001 4891 1566 6457 1988 3597 - - 2002 - - 7502 1990 3783 - - 2003 - - 7393 1991 3667 - - 2004 - - 7633 1992 4297 - - 2005 - - 8790 1993 - - 5132 2006 - - 9055 Islamic education in revolutionary zanzibar 481

By taking information from a variety of sources, even if not complete, such as Mapuri and Ziddy, as well as a series of annual reports by the Ministry of Education, it is possible to provide an overview of the development of primary schools (p.s.), secondary schools (s.s.), the number of children in school (c.s.) and the total number of children of school-age (total), from the early 1960s up to 2003. In 2003, however, only those schools were recorded as secondary schools which offered the secondary school middle level forms and beyond. Due to another change in government statistics, schools which provided only lower level secondary school education were regarded as primary schools. As a consequence, the number of primary school students grew considerably in 2003, while the number of ‘proper’ (middle and senior level) secondary school students decreased cor- respondingly. This statistical ‘trick’ was revised, however, in the following school year (see chart). Since 2003, the revolutionary government has constantly claimed (ZNA BA 58/24) that almost all children go to school (2003: 99.1%). As a consequence, the respective column in the chart below (for the total number of children of school-age) had to be merged with the column indicating the total number of children in school. These numbers are not only highly propagandistic, they also hide the fact that in recent years the number of private institutions of learning has increased. Among these private institutions of learning are some ‘Islamic’ schools such as the al-Riyami Academy or the Bilal Islamic Seminary, both rather small schools in Zanzibar Town. Unfortunately, statistical data on these private institutions have been available from 2003 only. In that year, statistics registered 34 unspecified private institutions of learning in Zanzibar. This number rose to 101 in 2004, 219 in 2005 (180 pre- school institutions, 26 primary schools, 13 secondary schools), and 210 in 2006 (160 pre-school institutions, 35 primary schools leading to form II, 15 secondary schools beyond form II) (ZNA BA 55/25; 26). These data were not included in the chart below, however. Student numbers for private institutions are not available and it has not been possible to identify the size of private primary and secondary schools. The sheer explosion in the number of private institutions of learning in recent years has to be seen as a manifestation of the failure of the revolutionary government to provide proper education for all Zanzibaris (IC72, 17.8.2007): 482 chapter nine year p.s. s.s. ps-students ss-students children in school total 1962 - 2 19026 913 19987 - 1963 - 2 19106 934 20083 - 1964 62 2 24334 1011 25372 - 1965 - 2 - - - - 1966 - 2 - - - - 1967 - 2 - - - - 1968 - 2 - - - - 1969 - 2 - - - - 1970 - 2 20277 (?) - - - 1971 - 2 - - - - 1972 - 2 56828 6768 - - 1973 - 2 - - - - 1974 - 2 - - 75039 - 1975 109 6 - - 70111 - 1976 - 6 - - - - 1977 - 6 - - - - 1978 - 6 94873 15007 99880 - 1979 - 6 - - - - 1980 123 6 85330 15056 100386 - 1981 - 6 - - - - 1982 - 6 87876 20501 100256 - 1983 115 13 94851 33821 128672 169853 1984 115 13 97407 34737 132146 174439 1985 114 8 100042 35672 135714 179149 1986 123 9 102743 36635 139378 183985 1987 124 9 105517 37624 143141 188952 1988 126 9 108366 38640 147006 194854 1989 123 11 111292 39683 150975 199293 1990 130 12 114296 40754 155050 204674 1991 130 10 109033 50013 159046 220719 1992 133 11 112304 51513 163817 227422 1993 136 15 90882 53060 143922 229854 1994 140 13 93586 54652 148239 236750 1995 135 13 96395 56291 152686 243852 1996 140 19 99287 57980 157267 251168 1997 148 21 102266 59719 161985 258703 1998 151 24 105332 61511 166843 266464 1999 161 32 108492 63356 171848 274448 2000 169 35 111746 65257 177003 282692 Islamic education in revolutionary zanzibar 483

year p.s. s.s. ps-students ss-students children in school total

2001 170 36 114998 67215 182213 291173 2002 179 33 115151 69231 187782 299908 2003 171 24 264724 44177 308000 - 2004 181 33 272074 46643 318717 - 2005 180 31 281485 49575 331060 - 2006 181 37 354421 51058 405479 -

The annual report for 2005 (ZNA BA 58/25) also provided detailed data for the number of students at those secondary schools that offered the senior level, namely forms V and VI. Student numbers for these schools were 451 for Lumumba, 108 for Biashara Mombasa (trade school), 349 for Ben Bella, 358 for Hamamni, 307 for Tumekuja, 239 for Kiponda, 154 for Nkrumah, 220 for Fidel Castro, 159 for Shamiani, 238 for Utaani, 75 for Uweleni, 291 for the CCK, and 182 for the Chuo Cha Kiislamu in Micheweni/Pemba (ZNA BA 58/25). In order to overcome the shortage of qualified teachers and administrative staff, which was due to post-revolution education policies (see above and below), students were sent to socialist countries for further studies, in particular East Germany, the Soviet Union and China. From the 1970s, students from Zanzibar were also sent to the Sudan, first to the Africa Islamic Centre (Markaz al-Islāmī al-Ifrīqī bi-l-Kharūm) and then to the Africa International University (Jāmia Ifriqiyya al-Ālamiyya) in Khartoum. In 1975, the first eleven students from Zanzibar were admitted to the University of Dar es Salaam, among them a later Minister of Education, Umar Ramadhan Mapuri (Ziddy 2001: 37). By 1993, the number of Zanzibari students in Dar es Salaam had grown to 885. The annual reports on education after the revolution show that Zanzibar experienced major changes with respect to studies abroad: after 1964, most students studied in Eastern European countries, while from the late 1970s onward, most went to Arab countries, especially Saudi Arabia, the Sudan, Egypt, Qatar and Libya, as well as Pakistan, Turkey and Indonesia (data based on files ZNA BA 6/30 and BA 58/2-26): 484 chapter nine countrySaudi ArabiaSudanEgypt 1970Turkey - 1978Emirates 1980 14Pakistan 1981Indonesia - 1982Libya 5 - 1985 -Iran 4 -Morocco 1986 3 - -Algeria 1987 - - 4 - 1988Syria 14 - -GDR 1989 - - - 4 -USSR 1990 - - -PR China 7 - 1991 - - - -Cuba 4 - - 2UK - 2003 - - - 123 13 -Tunisia - - - 2006 - 21 - - 58India - 7 - - -Uganda 5 - 3 - - - - -others - - - - 5 - 9 - -total - - - - - 22 6 - - - - 7 4 - 9 - - - - 4 - - - - 2 - - 5 - - 16 - - - 10 - - 4 - - 3 - - 16 - - - - 224 - 19 11 - 9 - 4 - - - 13 6 - - - - 44 - - 35 5 - - - - 12 - 1 12 - - - 60 - 19 - - 3 - - - - 1 ------34 - - - 4 46 29 - - 3 3 - - - - - 2 - - 25 - - 61 45 - - - 18 - 10 - - - 27 - - - - 68 - - 88 - - 17 - - 18 - - - - - 100 - - 46 ------4 - 68 6 - 54 - 3 - - - - 4 - - - - 67 110 - - - - 2 - - - 172 - - 40 - 8 - - - - 65 - - - - - 17 36 - 11 6 - 73 ------12 - - 114 - - - 2 109 8 4 - 1 2 1 - 3 5 Islamic education in revolutionary zanzibar 485

These data show that the Zanzibari government was keen to keep different orientations balanced in its foreign relations. Students were sent not only to Saudi Arabia, but also to the Sudan, Britain and the mainland, while funds for the development of religious and educational projects came from a broad range of sources, including Saudi Arabia, Kuwait, the Aga Khan, the Ford Foundation and Oman. With respect to Oman, where the Bū Sa īdī dynasty is still in power and where many Zanzibaris have found a new home, the revolutionary government has tried to confine Omani influence and investment, despite the fact that Oman has kept a low profile in Zanzibar (IC73, 4.3.2003; IC26, 10.3.2003). Beyond the development of government schools, private schools and Qur ānic schools (see chapter 9.3.), Zanzibar has also seen, in recent years, the development of higher institutions of learning, namely the College of Education in Chukwani (CE), the Zanzibar University (ZU) in Tunguu, and the State University of Zanzibar (SUZA) in Vuga (see below). University development was influenced by the fact that it was under the responsibility not only of the Ministry of Education, but also of the Ministry of Planning, which was sub- ordinated to the Union Ministry for Higher Education in Dar es Salaam. Higher education was thus not an exclusively Zanzibari affair, and the same applied to contacts with institutions of education abroad (Ziddy 2001: 37). Zanzibar’s first university, the Jāmiat Zanzibar, was eventually opened in 1998. The campus was situated in Tunguu, about 20 km outside Zanzibar town. Planning had started in 1994 when former Tanzanian President Mwinyi convinced the Dar al-Īmān foundation to build a technical college in Zanzibar. Construction started in 1994 and the first buildings were completed by 1997, while the university was declared open in April 1998 with 50 students in economics and business studies (Ziddy 2001: 38). The faculty of business administration was followed, in 1999, by the faculty of law and sharīa. On 4 May 2000, the university was fully registered by the government. In 2002, a faculty of arts and social sciences was added, as was a centre of small business development. In the same year, the library was completed. The faculty of arts and social sciences also offered a course in Islamic Studies (see Zanzibar University Homepage). In April 1998, the College of Education (Chuo cha Elimu, CE) was established in Chukwani, about six kilometres south of Zanzibar Town, by the Africa Muslim Agency (AMA; see chapter 3), with 35 486 chapter nine students (ZNA BA 58/17) who were able to study, in three-year courses, Arabic, Islamic studies, pedagogy and social sciences. The college was built on a piece of land (with an area of 120 hectares/300 acres) granted by the government. The CE was affiliated, through AMA, to the Africa International University (Ziddy 2001: 38) and this university also awarded degrees to students at the CE. These degrees were acknowledged by the Higher Education Accreditation Council in Dar es Salaam. Arabic was the language of instruction in Arabic and Islamic Studies, and English in all other subjects. In 2001, the CE had five departments: Education and Psychology, Arabic, Islamic Studies, Science, Arts. It awarded bachelor’s degrees in Arabic, Islamic Studies, Geography, History and Physics/Mathematics (Prospectus: 7; for the staff of the CE, see the prospectus). The college had sixteen classrooms, two student hostels, a cafeteria, medical services, a mosque and a printing press. The library of the College of Education contained a large array of books on natural sciences and English, as well as a strong section on Islamic disciplines of learning, in particular, Shāfi ī law, Qur ān,adab , lugha, na w, tafsīr, uūl al-dīn, uūl al-fiqh, uūl al- adīth, adīth, taw īd, some taawwuf, kalām, ibādāt, ta rīkh such as Ibn Khaldūn’s muqaddima and al-abarī. At that time (2001), the Islamic Studies syllabus offered six courses concentrating on the recitation of the Qur ān and its rules; the Qur ān was taught as a whole but only sūrat al-baqara was memorized; four courses focused on the interpretation of the Qur ān (tafsīr); four on adīth, five on taw īd, two on comparative religion (referring, amongst others, to the Gospel of Barnabas) as well as introductions to Communism, Marxism and Capitalism; ten on Islamic law (fiqh), two on sīra, two on the methods of dawa, one on morality (including manners and behaviour in other cultures), one on Islamic institutions, one on modern thinking in Islam, two on the contemporary Islamic world, five on Arab grammar and morphology, two on language exercises, one on literature, three on English language, two on the foundations of general education, one on the foundation of Islamic education, one on general methods of teaching and one on special methods of teaching, one on curriculum development, one on school administration, one on the history and systems of education in Africa, one on educational research methodology, one on practical research issues, two on educational technology, one on educational evaluation, three on different aspects of psychology, one on Islamic education in revolutionary zanzibar 487 administrative skills, one on teaching practice, two on physical education, as well as three courses in computer technology (Prospectus 14-27). The Arabic Language syllabus was structured in a similar way, concentrating, however, on Arabic language, grammar, rhetoric and literature, as well as the Arabic language in East Africa. In addition, courses were offered on special methods of teaching Arabic (Prospectus 28-36). In history, the syllabus had a strong focus on African Islamic history, the Ghana, Mali and Songhay empires, the jihād movements, the life of Muammad Abdille asan and the history of Tanzania and Zanzibar: two courses focused on Zanzibar’s pre-19th-century history, the Sultanate and the revolution. In addition, there were a number of courses on general Islamic history, geography and English language. The syllabus had a general focus on training for teachers and administrative staff. Consequently, pedagogical and didactic questions were stressed to a considerable extent. The third higher education project in Zanzibar was the State University of Zanzibar (SUZA), which was opened in 2002 under its first Vice Chancellor, Professor Saleh Idris Muhammad. In 1996, a planning committee had been established. Members of the planning committee were, amongst others, Prof. Abdul Sheriff, Dr. Bishara Theneyan (MRC) and Prof. Saleh Idris Muhammad. The Chancellor of the University was the President of Zanzibar. First planning activities started in 1998/99 and a fund of 400 million Sh. (₤250,000) was received from the government (Ziddy 2001: 38). SUZA was eventually established by Act 8/1999, became operational on 26 September 2001, and was opened on 22 May 2002. The planning committee proposed small initial intakes of students, the establishment of schools of education, arts and sciences; engineering and business; agriculture; health and medical services; law; the institute of Kiswahili studies and foreign languages, an institute for policy studies and research; an institute of continuing education and an institute of marine and environmental studies. Headquarters were to be situated at the Karume Technical College in Mbweni; the first institutes were to be the Taasisi and the School of Education, by incorporating the Taasisi, the Nkrumah TTC and Karume Technical College into SUZA structures. The major campus was to be established in Tunguu (ZNA BA 6/56). In 2004, the Minister of Education, Haroun Ali Sulaiman, appointed a new council for SUZA, which consisted of scholars 488 chapter nine mostly from Zanzibar and mainland Tanzania (see Zanzibar Leo, 30.7.2004). In 2003, SUZA adopted the syllabus of the College of Education in Arabic and Religious Studies, but without Qur ān, tafsīr, adīth, tajwīd (IC3, 11.3.2003). According to the State University of Zanzibar Prospectus (2004/2005-2005/2006), SUZA had a school of education, arts and sciences, an institute of Kiswahili and foreign languages, an institute of continuing education and library services. These schools and institutes were accommodated in the old Taasisi building in Vuga as well as some adjacent buildings. The Institute of Kiswahili and Foreign Languages offered Kiswahili, English, German, French, Portuguese, Spanish and Arabic at certificate and diploma levels. The courses in the school of education, arts and sciences lead to a B.A. and a B.Sc. in education. In 2005, the university had 49 full-time teachers (professors, lecturers, tutors) and nine part-time teachers (Prospectus, Zanzibar 2005).8 Due to financial problems, SUZA’s development has slowed down, however. In 2007, no construction work had started at the Tunguu site. Rather, existing buildings from the colonial era such as the Taasisi and the Nkrumah TTC have been rededicated (and painted) in order to house the SUZA institutes and administration. The CCK was closed down in 2007 in order to provide space for the Nkrumah TTC, and the training programmes of the two institutions were merged.

9.3. The Legacy of the Revolution III: The Qur ānic Schools

One sector of education was particularly hit by the revolution, namely the sector of Islamic education and the Qur ānic schools. Distinct anti-religious policies of the Ministry of Education can be linked, in particular, with the name of Ali Sultan Issa, who took over the ministry in December 1964. In 1965, Ali Sultan Issa abolished the recitation of Islamic poems and school choirs were formed. Government support for Qur ānic schools was stopped and religious bookshops and libraries as well as the Muslim Academy were closed. In 1965, Ali Sultan Issa abolished religious instruction in government schools and Arabic as a language of instruction (Clayton 1981: 143; Ziddy

8 According to the 2002-2004 annual report of the Ministry of Education, SUZA had 96 students (35 male, 60 female), the College of Education had 376 students, and Zanzibar University had 452 students. Islamic education in revolutionary zanzibar 489

2001: 28). Some remnants of Islamic education beyond 1965 were attested, though, by East German expatriate teachers, who taught at Lumumba College and who claimed that school prayers continued in 1965 on the initiative of an Indian teacher (IC98, 20.7.2004). On 1 April 1967, the teaching of Islamics, Qur ān and Arabic in government schools was banned completely, however, and even school prayers were stopped and replaced by praise songs to Nyerere and Karume (‘Babakerim’ 1975/1994: 17). School reports and teacher assessments confirmed that no religious classes took place after 1967: subjects were Kiswahili, Hesabu, Kiingereza, Historia (Tarikh), Jografia, Sayansi (physics, chemistry, biology), Siasa, Kilimo (uku- lima na ufugaji, agriculture and animal husbandry), kazi za mikono and utamaduni. At some schools, though, such as the ‘Skuli ya Ng’ambwa’ in Chake Chake, the Maulidi ya homu was still taught (ZNA AD 20/89). Ali Sultan Issa’s radical policies came to an end in 1968, when he was replaced as Minister of Education by Hassan Nasser Moyo. Several years passed, however, before religious education was rehabilitated, and only on 1 January 1973 were Arabic and ‘Islamics’ reintroduced in government primary schools. A report on the Fidel Castro Secondary School in Chake Chake in 1975 showed that religious education had definitely restarted by that time. A letter on the issue of ‘religious teachers’ (walimu wa dini ya Kiislam) by the Mkuu wa ASP wa Kazi za Elimu, Pemba, Amin Said Nofli, to the ‘Hal- mashauri ya Utiaji watu Kazini Pemba’ thus claimed that the teaching of religion actually restarted in 1973: As you know, the government has been happy to re-establish religious classes in schools. All people used to know religion very well, sometimes even the tafsir of the Koran, and they have brought (repeatedly) their requests. Later, they wanted to make an examination for their teachers at the Chuo Cha Kiislamu in Unguja. They have complied and have seen that they are indeed able to teach religion including the tafsir of the Koran. I want to take this opportunity to grant permission for these teachers to start their work on 9 July 1973 (Kama unavyojuo, serikali imekusudia kerejesha masomo ya dini Mashuleni. Watu wote wanajua dini bara bara, pamoja na tafsiri ya Koran, walikaribishwa kuleta maombi yao. Baadae waliomba walifanyiwa mtihani wa walimu wetu wa chuo cha Kiislamu kutoka Unguja. Wafuatao ndio mpaka sasa, waliokwisha kupasi na kuonekana kuwa wanaweza kuisomesha dini, na hasa tafsiri ya Koran (a list of 24 teachers of Koran followed). Naomba nipatiwe kibali cha kuwaruhusu walimu hao kuanza kazi ya 490 chapter nine

kusomesha kuanzia jumatatu tarehe 9/7/73; ZNA AD 33/19: Fidel Cas- tro Sekondari Skuli (1968-1976). Despite the disruption of the revolution, the status of ‘Koran’ teachers initially did not change abruptly after the revolution, but only some years later, as files on everyday matters such as salaries and gratuities show: up to 1961, Qur ān teachers had been treated as temporary staff not entitled to gratuities (see chapter 7). Demands for better treatment continued after 1961, and even after 1964, and attest to the fact that Islamic education in government schools did not stop abruptly in 1964: there was always a gap between official proclamations and historical realities. Qur ān teachers in fact tried to acquire better and broader qualifications by continued education, in order to be able to claim better salaries as well as a more secure status as ‘full’ primary school teachers. On 15 October 1965, a first list of nineteen ‘Koran’ teachers was established who were able to teach other disciplines, and twelve teachers who were ‘Koran’ teachers only. This list was expanded by one teacher (Bibi Nuru Abdulkadir) on 14 April 1966 to a total of 32 (which later increased to 42). In a letter of 8 June 1966, Amūr Alī Ameir, the Katibu Mkuu (Chief Secretary) of the Wizara ya elimu na mila (Ministery of Education and Culture) formally inquired how to proceed with these Qur ān teachers: ‘There are about 40 of them in our schools. Are they going to be pensionable (i.e. rise from scale E6 to E5). The opinion is that there are not many Koran teachers that teach other subjects as well, thus, they may be regarded as primary school teachers (in scale E6)’. However, before being acknowledged as such, these teachers would have to pass a formal examination, in particular, in hesabu, English (‘Kizungu’) and Kiswahili. Only then the question might be resolved whether they should be accepted as full primary school teachers. Regarding plans of the ASP to reintroduce the teaching of the Qur ān, Amūr Alī Ameir proposed that this might be realized by employing the Qur ān teachers: ‘The party has intentions to integrate Koran teachers (into education) in this country when (respective) plans are completed; until then, the Koran teachers will have to stay with the current (terms of) employment until retirement’ (upo mpango wa Party wa kusomesha Kuran katika nchi, utapomalizika mpango huo itajaribiwa kuwaingiza walimu wa Kuran kama si hivyo watabaki kama walivyo mpaka ufike muda wao wa kupumzika; ZNA AD 20/35). After a Islamic education in revolutionary zanzibar 491 respective decision of the Ministry of Education of 20 September 1966, registration of the teachers started. All teachers who wanted to be registered for the examination sent letters, sometimes written by their directors on their behalf, and asked to take part in the examination (‘Mtihani wa Kurani kuingizwa katika scale E 6-1’). On 15 October 1966, 37 teachers were identified as qualified to sit for an examination in hesabu, English and Kiswahili at Haile Selassie School. Two of the teachers did not show up, however, for the examination on 15 October 1966 and two missed the arithmetic examination, while 17 missed the English and one the Kiswahili examination.9 Most of these teachers came from southern Unguja, Ng’ambo or other parts of the ‘Hadimu’ fringe and could thus be said to represent a group of washamba scholars who were not directly linked with the ‘ancien regime’ and the scholarly elite of the Alawī families (ZNA AD 20/35): 1. Mfaume Ali, from Muyuni, in service as Qur ān teacher since 1946. 2. Mariam Fatawi, Makunduchi. 3. Abdullah Mohammed, Mtende. 4. Fadhil Ramadhan, Dimbani-Kizimkazi. 5. Makame Ame Makame, Uzini, in service since 1943. 6. Muhammad Ali Salim, Haile Selassie. 7. Hawa Ali, Forodhani. 8. Abdallah Muhammad, Mtende. 9. Fadhil Mzee, Bwejuu, in service since 1959. 10. Salim Mahmoud, Fuoni. 11. Othman Omar Chande, Darajani. 12. Yusuf Mtinge, Jambiani. 13. Sulaiman A. Simai, Mtende. 14. Amur Juma, Uroa. 15. Muhammad Kh. Haji, Muyuni. 16. Ali Juma Haji, Chwaka. 17. Asila Muhammad Salim, Mkoani. 18. Abdullah Idi Hamadi, Kizimbani. 19. Ali Mzee Ali, Kengeja, in service since 1952. 20. Hasan Muhammad Hassan, Kiwani. 21. Saadati Khamis, Kombeni. 22. Ali Makungu, Kusini, in service since 1945. 23. Fatma Ali Hilali, Jangombe, in service since 1946.

9 The top three candidates were: Ali Mzee Ali, Pemba, 168 out of 300 points, Salim Mahmoud (167/300) and Makame Ame (139/300). Eleven candidates obtained more than 100, while another eleven got more than 50 points (ZNA AD 20/35). 492 chapter nine

24. Ali Abdullah, Kiembe Samaki. 25. Khamis Muhammad Khamis, Kombeni. 26. Moza Ali Salim, Ngambo. 27. Khalfan S. Nassor, Ziwani. 28. Alawi Umar, Ole, in service since 1960. 29. Haji Sheikh Bakari, Kanjani. 30. Bimkubwa Stadi, Kajificheni. 31. Muhammad Juma, Uondwe. 32. Mahmoud Juma, Kiboje. 33. Rashid Salim, Gando. 34. Khamis Mtumweni, Mkoani. 35. Ashrak Juma Haji, Bambi. 36. Suluhu Hassan Haji, in service since 1940. 37. Nasir Ali Kambo, in service since 1938 Although these examinations had been organized to prepare the way for reintegration of the Qur ān teachers into government schools, a meeting of the Qur ān teachers took place on 5 May 1967, based on the fact ‘that they had been sacked (after all) in January 1967’ (ambao waliachishwa kazi katika Januari 1967).10 At a meeting with Ali Sultan Issa, the Minister of Education, his deputy, Ali Muhsin Ali and Sha bān āli al-Farsy, the ‘Ofisa wa elimu wa Jimbo’, as well as 26 Qur ān teachers in government schools, Abeid Amani Karume started to say that as part of the effort to mount a new plan for education he had removed the Koran teachers as they had been doing very particular work. But he had strengthened modern education and science; and when children finished standard 12 they worked as teachers as part of their National Service. After completing their two years of National Service, they enter higher education in order to gain knowledge so that they can help to build society and develop the economy and contribute to the glory of our Tanzanian nation (alianza kwa kusema kwamba katika kurakibisha mipango mipya ya taalimu yeye aliwatoa walimu wa Kuran, kwani wao walikuwa na kazi hususi. Bali

10 A letter to the local ASP office in Chake Chake by Ahmad Salim Abubakar of 5 September 1969 confirmed that Qur ānic teaching in government schools had continued for three years after the revolution and was stopped on 1 April 1967 (nimea- chiswa kazi) latest: ‘Dear Excellency, I would like to let you know that I have worked for a period of fourteen years as Koran teacher at this school here in Ziwani and in all of this period there has never occurred any problem whatsoever. I was sacked on 1 April 1967 after the revolution due to the closure of the schools of this type here in Ziwani’ (Kwa heshima, naomba nieleze kuwa nimefanya kazi kwa muda wa miaka 14, nilikuwa Quran teachers huko katika shule ya Ziwani na nimetumika kwa muda wote huo bila ya makosa ya yote yale. Nimeachishwa kazi mnamo tarehe 1.4.1967 baada ya miaka kupita tokeya Mapinduzi na sababu ni kufungwa shule ya aina hiyo hapo ziwani). Islamic education in revolutionary zanzibar 493

alitilia nguvu elimu za kileo na science, na kuwa watoto waliomaliza std. 12 wakamate kazi za uwalimu kuwa ni jukumu lao na National Service. Watakapomaliza miaka miwili wataingia vyuo vya Juu na kuji- chumia elimu za kusaidia kujenga ujamaa na kustawisha uchumi na sharaf ya Taifa letu la Tanzania). On 15 May 1967 another meeting of the Qur ān teachers with Karume took place. At this meeting, Sayyid Umar Abdallāh, who was thus still visibly present in Zanzibar, stressed on behalf of the teachers that it was nice to see that Karume wanted (which in fact was not true, RL) ‘to maintain the Koran teachers’ (ameshikilia walimu wa Kuran) and that he welcomed the prospering (kustawisha) of religion: ‘However, the issue was to help the teachers to understand that some teachers were going to be selected who wanted to continue as teachers’ (Basi dhamiri ya mkutano huu ni kuzidi kufahimisha hayo na kuwachagua wale wanaotaka kurejea kazini; ZNA AD 20/35). On 19 May 1967, the teachers added to this argument by pointing out the importance of the faith and sharīa: they wanted to continue to teach Qur ān and religion (kwendelea na kusomesha masomo ya dini), as they had already taken the examination. Subsequently, another list of ‘religion’ teachers (walimu wa dini) was set up, who were to return to teaching (wameridhi kurejea kazini kusomesha) and who wanted to continue teacher training.11 On 9 June 1967, a list of those Qur ān teachers in government schools who had to stop work on 1 February 1967 was established (walioachiswa kazi mnamo tarehe 1 mwezi wa Februari 1967) and who were to be reemployed (or not).

11 In total, there were 31 teachers, whose salary was more than 26 sh., plus nine teachers, who might be taken on if they would undergo continued training, as well as two teachers who were not employable any more. Of these 42 teachers, 20 were selected: four for immediate employment and 16 who were to be employed later. The four immediate candidates were: Sharīf Umar Abdallāh (Pemba, Forodha Mchanga School), Basha Pandu (Mshauri wa siasa), Ali Mussa (ditto) and Sha bān āli al- Farsy (ofisa wa elimu wa jimbo). The sixteen others were: Mfaume Ali, Khamis Muhammad, Haji Jecha, Ibrahim Abubakar, Nasser Muhammad, Ali Abdallah Ahmad, Ali Makungu, Abdallah Muhammad, Salim Mahmoud, Abdulrahman Hija, Muhammad Ali Mgana, Muhammad Khamis, Mchano Makame, Ali Mussa Mkanga, Ali Ameir Ali, Ali Miraj (seven of these teachers had been at the Muslim Academy and one, Ali Abdallah Ahmad from Kiembe Samaki, even got the following assessment: ‘He has good knowledge. He teaches in the mosque and, in addition, he is an Imam. However, he does not want to return to his work unless he gets more (in terms of salary) than what he got before. He really is very knowledgeable’ (Anayo marifa mazuri, anasomesha mskitini ambapo yeye ni Imam. Lakini hajaridhi kurejea kazini ila kuwa zaidi kuliko alivyokuwa akipata. Maana anakubwa sana; ZNA AD 20/35). 494 chapter nine

On 22 June 1967 a report for the President written by ‘Sharif’ Umar Abdallāh, the mwalimu mkuu of Forodha Mchanga secondary school in Pemba, proposed that Qur ān teachers should be allowed to return to work. On 10 July 1967, the Ministry of Education, in fact, started to select teachers for ‘dini’ (letter Amūr Alī Ameir): ‘The Ministry of Education and culture has established a plan to teach Islamic religion and teachers who are able to do this work will be chosen’ (Wizara ya elimu na mila inaweka mpango wa kusomesha dini ya kiislamu na walimu wamo kuchaguliwa kwa ajili ya kazi hii). For this task two teachers were to be brought from Egypt, in order to train local teachers. On 19 June 1973, 25 candidates were eventually proposed to fill these jobs as teachers of ‘dini’ (religion). They started work on 1 April 1974. The gap of six years between the sacking of the Qur ān teachers in early 1967, the negotiations regarding their reintegration until July 1967 and their factual reintegration into government school service in 1973, points to the fact that this process of reintegration was blocked by Ali Sultan Issa and Karume. The fact that a considerable number of Ministry of Education staff, including Amūr Alī Ameir, were prepared to support the reintegration of the Qur ān teachers against the expressed wishes of both Karume and Ali Sultan Issa may also explain why Ali Sultan Issa was prepared to purge the Ministry of Education of a major part of its pre-revolutionary staff. In 1967 he dismissed in fact not only teachers such as Abdallāh āli al-Farsy and his brother Sha bān, but also highly qualified staff such as Amūr Alī Ameir and 200 others from service in the Ministry of Education (IC102, 17.10.2008; ‘Babakerim’ 1975/1994: 17). This act of ‘self- mutilation’ of the Ministry of Education led to a serious shortage of both staff and teachers after 1967, which may also explain the fact that ‘reporting’ and statistics, and even work in the Ministery of Education as such, virtually collapsed after 1967 and recovered only in the mid-1970s. In addition, Ali Sultan Issa’s purges created even more stress for the teachers in service. From the early 1970s teachers had to work in morning and afternoon shifts, in order to teach an increasing number of children in more or less the same number of classrooms (Clayton 1981: 143). By comparing statistics from pre-revolutionary times with data on the first years of the revolution, it is indeed possible to infer that the number of administrative staff and teachers in the Ministry of Education had been reduced by 1974 (when data became available Islamic education in revolutionary zanzibar 495 again) by at least a third and possibly even more than 60% of its pre-revolutionary strength. In 1963, the Ministry of Education had a staff of 827 teachers (including 52 Qur ān teachers) as well as an administrative staff of at least 35 education officers (data 1957), including at least 20 British employees. In 1964, all British staff left Zanzibar, as well as a number of Zanzibari staff and teachers. Their number shrank to 655 primary and secondary school teachers in 1964. Between 1964 and 1973, a total number of 282 staff and teachers left Zanzibar, although this was presented differently in the Afro- Shirazi Party Report on the revolution, which remarked: ‘282 teachers ran away’, among them 131 Indians, 101 Arabs, 19 Comorians and 31 Africans, ‘all of them supporters of the ZNP/ZPPP’. Also, 417 students ‘ran away’ (Afro-Shirazi Party 1974: 132). This exodus alone would have cut down the number of teachers and staff to around 550, a third less than in 1963. If including the 200 staff and teachers purged by Ali Sultan Issa in 1967, a total loss of about 500 staff and teachers can be assumed, which would amount to a loss of more than 60% of the 1963 workforce of the Ministry of Education. At the same time, new qualified teachers and administrative staff were not available not fill the gaps created by these policies, and East German teachers were not a long-term solution for this massive brain drain. As a result, the Ministry of Education suffered a serious crisis which was overcome only in the 1980s and 1990s. Despite the almost desperate move to establish revolutionary authority and discipline in the Ministry of Education in 1967, religious education still continued outside the government school sector. Private Qur ānic schools had been closed in 1965, yet they continued to exist and were even officially supervised in 1967, as was documented by Ripoti 3/67, Maelezo ya ukaguzi uliofanywa na Halmashauri ndogo ya Kukagua vyuo vya Koran uliokuwa jumatano tarehe 24.5.1967. Members of the supervising team were A.I. Barwani, B.A. Wahhab, Ahmad Idi Mjasiri and Idrissa Mbarak, as well as the Municipal Health Director, the Superintendent Building Inspector and a town clerk. They inspected ten communal Qur ānic schools in Zanzibar, all in Ng’ambo, namely: Mkamasini (Himid Shaban), Zizilangombe (Muhidin), Mwembeshauri (Muhammad Ali), Ziwani (Ameir Tajo), Kwahani (Ameir Bakari), Jangombe (Abdallah Chum), Jangombe (Hamza Amour), Mwembeladu (Said Khamis), Saateni (Said Khamis) and Miafuni (Raha Leo, Burhan Iddi). According to their report, support from the municipality was not possible for 496 chapter nine building purposes, as the responsibility for such matters lay with the Ministry of Education. Members of a sub-committee were appointed, however, to survey all religious ‘Koran’ schools within municipal boundaries. Also, a report on the repairs required for each school was to be made, together with recommendations for financial donations. The committee was to approach the Minister of Education if it wished to seek the government’s opinion on education matters (ZNA AD 30/19). 1967 thus seems to have been a key year for the development of religious education in Zanzibar. Only in 1967 was Qur ānic education at government schools finally stopped, to resume only several years later, in 1973/1974. In the same year, the Ministry of Education, directed by Ali Sultan Issa, dismissed from service a large number of teachers and administrators who had been trained in the late colonial period, such as Abdallāh āli al-Farsy and Amūr Alī Ameir, and eliminated the last traces of the pre-revolutionary system of education. 1967 thus signalled the end of one era in education and opened a new one, that of socialist and ‘revolutionary’ education. The removal of Ali Sultan Issa from the Ministry of Education in 1968 ended this short but radical period in Zanzibar’s education policies and enabled the renaissance of Islamic education in new guises in the 1970s. As was shown in chapter 8, first talks to reopen the Muslim Academy started in September 1969 and were approved by Abeid Amani Karume. Between 1964 and 1974, religious education in Zanzibar was characterized by inconsistencies and contradictions: religious education was formally stopped, yet continued for some time and was never completely eradicated from both governmental and non-governmental spheres of life, attesting to the existence of divergent camps of thought within the Karume administration. Karume may in fact have cultivated these inconsistencies in order to keep several different religious and political options open. Even Ali Sultan Issa, who was responsible for the most severe suppression of religion and religious institutions in Zanzibar after the revolution, was not able, in his time as Minister of Education, between December 1964 and 1968, to fully implement an anti-religious policy and when he was removed from power in 1968, the first steps to rehabilitate religious education were taken. This was expressed most clearly in the establishment of the Islamic education in revolutionary zanzibar 497

CCK in 1972 and the reintroduction of a syllabus for religious studies in 1974. In 1977, the Ministry of Education proposed the setting up of an ‘Advisory Committee’ for the development of education plans (Lodhi/ Rydström 1979: 148). A ‘task force on Islamic education’ was established in 1982 (ZNA BA 81/3) but probably reflected only Aboud Jumbe’s personal efforts to boost his ‘Islamic’ facade. The task force reported that the standard of education was very bad with respect to Islamic education: there was no uniform syllabus, only a few qualified teachers and very few good books. The task force proposed, among other things, the establishment of an Islamic University in Zanzibar (Purpura 1997: 356). However, up to the 1990s, Qur ānic schools, as in the early colonial period, were not mentioned in government statistics and the reports on educational policies (ZNA BA 6/47, 48) did not mention ‘Islam’ except with respect to the teaching of ‘dini’ in primary and secondary schools. Only in 1990 did the government conduct a first census ofvyuo and madāris, which was not published, however (Purpura 1997: 210). The 1996 report by the Zanzibar presidential education committee also did not mention Qur ānic schools (ZNA BA 6/49), and only the Zanzibar Education Master Plan recorded that there were, in 1996, 100 pre-school institutions of non- Qur ānic school character, as well as 1737 Qur ānic schools, 719 in Pemba and 1,018 in Unguja, according to the data of the Waqf Commission. These schools were attended by more than 90% of all children, boys and girls between the age of 4 and 16. Most of these schools were attended by 30-40 children, some by many more, such as the Madrasa Abdallah b. Masoud and the Madrasat Aisha in Pemba, as well as the madāris Huda, Dhu-l-Nurayn, al-Rahma, Zainab bint al-Rasul or the Madrasat al-Riyadh in Unguja, which had more than 300 students each (Ziddy 2002a: 9). A majority of Qur ānic schools were characterized, however, by deficient sanitary and health conditions. As a rule, these schools did not have piped water and most of them were overcrowded (Ziddy 2001: 31). For the first time since the revolution, the annual report of 2000 recorded that were 1902 Qur ānic schools in Zanzibar in 1999. Together these schools had a total of 200,111 students (108,677 girls). In the districts, Qur ānic schools were distributed as follows (ZNA BA 58/18): 498 chapter nine

district no. of Qur ānic schools no. of students Z’bar Town (mjini) 294 41646 West (magharibi) 226 24567 North A (kaskazini) 174 22459 North B 120 12095 Centre (kati) 177 11248 South (kusini) 86 5582 Micheweni 199 21384 Wete 217 22543 Chake Chake 234 20643 Mkoani 175 17944 total 1902 200111

The number of Qur ānic schools in relation to the number of inhabitants changed considerably from colonial to postcolonial times: thus, around 300,000 Zanzibaris had access to approximately 1,000 Qur ānic schools in 1960, i.e. a ratio of 1 to 300 inhabitants, while this changed in 1999 to a ratio of almost one million inhabitants to approximately 1900 Qur ānic schools, i.e. one school for approximately 500 inhabitants. The social importance of the Qur ānic schools thus seems to have decreased after 1964. The end of Qur ānic education in government schools in the mid and late 1960s, and the simul- taneous expansion in the number of government schools, as well as their growing intake of students, contributed to the marginalization of the Qur ānic schools. The expansion of student numbers in the early years of the revolution also forced the government to introduce teaching in two shifts, one in the morning and one in the afternoon, in the early 1970s. Teaching in shifts provided new time-slots for the Qur ānic schools, even if they were forced to adapt their teaching schedules to government schedules. Qur ānic schools though, were thus able to survive in a niche provided by the on-going crisis of government schools. Most recently, the introduction of pre-school education, which was made compulsory in 2007, may have again reduced the time-slots for Qur ānic schools and madrasa education (IC72, 17.8.2007), although Qur ānic schools are still credited with teaching ‘good manners’ (adab) and have maintained their ‘custodial’ function (Eisemon/Wasi 1987: 92), especially in times when both parents have to work hard in order to make a living. With the introduction of morning and afternoon shifts, the length of teaching peri- Islamic education in revolutionary zanzibar 499 ods (‘teaching hours’) has also been reduced to 35 minutes, in order to accommodate a complete one-day curriculum in either a morning or afternoon shift. This has come to mean that the effective time for the teaching of ‘Islamics’ (two periods per week) at government primary and secondary schools has been reduced to 70 minutes after 1964. At the same time, the Ministry of Education planned to integrate the Qur ānic schools into the government school system by 2006 by developing an accreditation system that would include a secular component for Qur ānic schools. The didactics of the Qur ānic schools were to be upgraded and curriculum guidelines were to be developed for religious and secular studies. It was planned to organize ‘a secular integrated madrasa support system by involving the communities, the Waqf Commission, the NGO’s and international organizations, to rehabilitate traditional and Qur ānic schools and madāris, to register Qur ānic schools and other private early childhood educational institutions’ (ZNA BA 5/37).

9.4. The Legacy of the Revolution IV: Syllabus Development

The crisis in Zanzibar’s education system and the crisis in religious education were reflected in the development of the religious studies syllabus in the post-revolutionary era. Between 1965 and 1974, Zanzibar’s schools had no Islamic syllabus at all. Only in 1974 was ‘Islamic Religious Instruction’ (IRI) reintroduced as a subject in primary schools. Since 1978, IRI formed part of the National Examination in form IV (Ziddy 2001: 62). This step was accompanied, however, by major problems: there was no adequate religious studies syllabus for primary schools and each teacher relied on his own books and his own methods; also, there were not enough teachers and no qualified teacher trainers for religious studies. The syllabus for secondary schools was identical with the syllabus of the CCK (see chapter 8), except for the fact that it was taught in two periods per week only. IRI teachers at government schools include teachers with no proper religious training, teachers with a secondary school education, those with a teacher training diploma and those with an education at an Islamic university such as Medina, al-Azhar or Khartoum (Ziddy 2002: 20). In 1995, the syllabus of government primary schools (ZNA BA 6/49) was structured as follows: 500 chapter nine

nursery class junior primary class secondary primary class Mathematics Mathematics Mathematics Art Art Art Environmental studies Environmental studies Environmental studies Qur ān - Qur ān - Religion Religion Games Games Games Rhymes Rhymes Rhymes Handwork Handwork Handwork

In 2000, the IRI syllabus (X) for Zanzibar’s secondary schools was the same as the one for the CCK except that IRI was taught for two, not six periods per week, one period accounting for 35 minutes of teaching, and had the following structure (see also chapter 8): 1. taw īd: First year: the ayāt and aādīth concerning īmān, the question as to who is a sound believer as well as what is wrong in faith, the meaning of dīn, the meaning of Islām. Second year: kalām concerning the pillars of the faith. Third year: proofs for the existence of God, belief in the angels, the differences between Islam and other religions. Fourth Year: faith in the messengers of God, as well as the yawm al-qiyāma, the differences between Islam and other religions. 2. fiqh: First year: meaning of fiqh, uūl al-fiqh, fiqh in the days of the Prophet, meaning of ibāda, prescriptions concerning wu ū , tayammum, prayer etc. Second year: fiqh in the days of the aāba and of the tābi īn, zakāt, fasting in Ramadan, zakāt al-fir, ajj etc. Third year: fiqh in the times of the tābi al-tābi īn, meaning of ibāda of the prayer, zakāt, fasting and ajj. Fourth year: the schools of law in Islam, divorce, āda-law, organization of the law and rights in Islam, economy and politics in Islam. 3. al-Qur ān: First year: comprehension (fahm) of the Qur ān and its revelation, tafsīr of some sūras (al-fātia, al-nās, al-falaq, al-ikhlā) etc. Second year: the revelation of the Qur ān, if' al-qur ān, tafsīr of some sūras (al-nar, al-kāfirūn, al-kawthar, al-mā ūn), etc. Third year: if' al-qur ān, if' of some aādīth from the days of Abū Bakr and Uthmān, the Mekkan and Medinan sūras. Fourth year: the objectives of the Qur ān, the importance of the guidance of the Qur ān, tafsīr of some sūras (al-bayyinah, al-tīn, al-shar, al- uā, al-a lā). Islamic education in revolutionary zanzibar 501

4. al-sunna wa-l- adīth: First year: the meaning of the sunna and adīth etc. Second Year: if' of some aādīth and their books, the science of adīth, the importance of the niyya etc. Third year: some aādīth, the importance of the al-amr bi-l-ma rūf wa-l-nahī an al-munkar etc. Fourth year: some aādīth (on specific topics such as economy). 5. ta rīkh: First year: the meaning of history, the aims of creation and mankind, the prophets (from Adam to Isā). Second year: the jāhiliyya on the Arab peninsula, the life of the Prophet to the hijra. Third year: the Prophet and the Islamic state in Medina, the Jews (in Medina), the conquest of Mekka, Musaylima, etc. Fourth Year: after the Prophet: al-khulafā al-rāshidūn, the ridda wars, the fall of the Islamic state, Islam in East Africa, Tanzania and some other East African regions (all Ziddy 2001: 68/9; translation RL). For the analysis of the problems of syllabus development in Zanzibar, Ziddy’s inquiry among both students and teachers in 1994, 1997 and 1998 is most informative. His inquiry was based on 400 secondary school students (213 boys and 187 girls) from eight secondary schools (Ziddy 2001: 87). Among the students were boarding school students as well as students who returned home each day. All were born after the revolution and all attended the last secondary school class that led to the secondary school certificate. An additional teacher sample focused on the Islamic studies teachers of these schools, in total 26 persons, as well as three persons responsible for examinations and syllabus development. Only 7.7% among them were women (Ziddy 2001: 87). With respect to qualifications, most of these teachers (19 = 73%) had a diploma in tarbiya from the CCK, while five had a university diploma and two came from secondary schools (Ziddy 2001: 88). In addition, sixteen parents were asked, which increased the sample to a total of 440 persons (Ziddy 2001: 90). In general terms, Ziddy’s inquiry showed that there were major discrepancies between the objectives of the religious studies syllabus and the general objectives of education in Zanzibar; that the existing syllabus did not establish a link between the students’ life and social realities in Zanzibar; that the existing secondary school syllabus did not fully integrate the principles of Islamic education while stressing theoretical knowledge; also, religious education had to face a number of problems, in particular the lack of religious awareness in Zanzibari society, the lack of support from the Ministry of Education, the lack 502 chapter nine of textbooks, detrimental working conditions for teachers, and poor means of subsistence for teachers. The desperate condition of IRI in government schools convinced the revolutionary government in the 1980s to develop appropriate textbooks and teaching materials for the teaching of Islam in primary schools. This project was supported by the Munaamat al-Dawa al-Islāmiyya. Teacher training courses for primary school teachers were started again at the CCK (Ziddy 2001: 62). In addition, teacher training courses for Arabic and Islamic studies were organized and complemented by monthly refresher courses, following the example of the Africa Islamic Centre in Khartoum. Unfortunately these steps were not developed consistently and a new syllabus failed to materialize. In 1996, the Munaamat al-Dawa al-Islāmī addressed the topic again, when the issue of the development of a new syllabus for the teaching of Islam at secondary schools re-emerged. This time, the Munaama was supported by the Majlis al-Alī al-Muslimī Tanzania and the Ministry of Education in Zanzibar, and they managed to do some work on the syllabus. Also, they agreed to edit new textbooks (Ziddy 2001: 62), although these had not yet been produced as of 2007. Theoretically, the objectives of the IRI syllabus were to lead the student to understand the basics of the faith and to know how these ﺃﻥ ﻳﻮﺿﺢ ﺍﻟﻤﻌﻨﻰ ﺍﻟﺤﻘﻴﻘﻰ ﻟﻜﻞ) basics related to their life in Zanzibar -Ziddy 2001: 66). Also, stu ,ﺭﻛﻦ ﻣﻦ ﺃﺭﻛﺎﻥ ﺍﻹﻳﻤﺎﻥ, ﻭ ﻛﻴﻒ ﻳﻄﺒﻘﻪ ﻓﻲ ﺍﻟﺤﻴﺎﺓ dents should know the true meaning of the terms ‘Islam’ and ‘Muslim’, the meaning of ‘dīn’ as based on the message of the Qur ān. They should understand thatsharīa embraces the whole life of humans in both their families and their societies. They should com- prehend the message of the Qur ān and its meaning for everyday life, the respective explanations in the adīth collections, and, finally, the norms of the adīth and their meaning for Sunna and Islam (Ziddy 2001: 66). The syllabus was organized in five disciplines, taw īd, fiqh, al-qur ān, sunna wa-l- adīth, ta rīkh (see above and chapter 8). Considering the fact that this syllabus was taught for only two hours per week (70 minutes), this was quite a comprehensive programme. Chances to actually teach the whole syllabus were quite small, however (Ziddy 2001: 69). Due to the fact that Zanzibaris were confronted with numerous problems in their everyday life, the syllabus Islamic education in revolutionary zanzibar 503 had a marginal influence on the students. Major everyday problems in contemporary Zanzibar mentioned by students were, amongst others, corruption and extra-marital sex, alcoholism, dancing and ﻓﻬﻨﺎﻙ ﻣﺸﻜﻠﺔ ﺍﻟﺮﺷﻮﺓ, ﻭ ﻣﺸﻜﻠﺔ ﺍﻟﺰﻧﺎ ﻭ ﺍﻟﺮﻗﺺ, ﻭ ﺍﻟﺨﻤﺮ, ﻭ ﺍﻟﺘﺰﻭﻳﺮ, ﻭtourism Ziddy 2001: 67). Another problem was the lack of student ;ﺍﻟﺴﻴﺎﺣﺔ) participation in the process of teaching and learning (Ziddy 2001: 70). Students basically concentrated on copying what the teacher wrote on the blackboard or on what he dictated. Modern media and means of teaching were not even mentioned in the syllabus as a means of teaching, except as far as the teaching of the ibādāt or the muāmalāt were concerned (Ziddy 2001: 72). As for examinations, 98% of the students in the sample took part. These were the national examinations of 1997 and 1998: in both 1997 and 1998, almost no student at Haile Selassie, Vikokotoni, Kidongo Chekundu (Zanzibar Town), at the CCK, of Makunduchi (in Unguja South), of Mkwajuni (in Unguja North), of Utaani (in Pemba North) and Fidel Castro (in Pemba South) was graded excellent (A), and only few were graded very good (B), while a significant number was graded good (C), or satisfactory (D). A considerable number of students failed (E) (all Ziddy 2001: 79). For 1997, the results were:

school A B C D E total no. of students Haile Selasie - 2 29 86 90 207 Vikokotoni - - 23 77 68 168 K. Chekundu - 1 28 81 69 179 Makunduchi - - - 13 18 31 Mkwajuni - 3 14 18 9 44 Chuo cha K. - 7 14 4 - 25 Utaani - 4 36 30 19 89 Fidel Castro 2 27 74 17 1 121 total 2 44 218 326 274 864 in % 0.2 5.1 25.5 37.7 31.7 100%

For 1998, the respective results were: 504 chapter nine

school A B C D E students Haile Selassie - 19 67 100 52 238 Vikokotoni - 9 72 44 13 138 K. Chekundu - 17 53 80 25 175 Makunduchi - - 2 10 15 27 Mkwajuni - 1 16 13 7 37 Chuo cha K. 3 21 5 - - 29 Utaani 1 20 56 58 28 163 Fidel Castro 1 24 32 13 1 71 total 5 111 303 318 141 878 in % 0.6 12.6 34.5 36.2 16.1 100%

When considering the results of Ziddy’s study as based on his detailed questionnaire,12 some interesting details can be identified. With respect to the methods and didactics of teaching, 72.6% of the students, for instance, thought that a wide range of methods was applied, while 42.3% of the teachers replied that they had difficulties in applying diverse methods. Most teachers preferred the methods of taqlīd Ziddy 2001: 107), while ;ﺃﻥ ﻣﻌﻈﻢ ﺍﻟﻤﻌﻠﻤﻴﻦ ﻳﺴﺘﺨﺪﻣﻮﻥ ﺍﻟﻄﺮﻕ ﺍﻟﺘﻘﻠﻴﺪﻳﺔ) other methods of teaching and didactics, such as discussion, were only rarely practiced. This was confirmed by 89% of the students and 96.2% of the teachers. Others complained that religious-minded (‘Islam’-minded) people were too far removed from politics and the ﻭ ﺧﺎﺻﺔ ﺇﺑﻌﺎﺩ ﺍﻟﻤﺘﺪﻳﻨﻴﻦ ﺑﺎﻹﺳﻼﻡ ﻣﻦ ﺍﻟﺴﻴﺎﺳﺔ ﻭ :government of the state Ziddy 2001: 108). The syllabus, however, should give ; ﻗﻴﺎﺩﺓ ﺍﻟﺪﻭﻟﺔ) every Zanzibari the chance to acquire all the ‘skills’ required in the ﺇﻋﻄﺎﺀ) society in which he lived in order to enhance its development ﻛﻞ ﺯﻧﺠﺒﺎﺭﻯ ﻓﺮﺻﺔ ﺍﻟﻤﻤﺎﺭﺳﺔ ﻭ ﺇﺳﺘﺨﺪﺍﻡ ﺟﻤﻴﻊ ﻣﻬﺎﺭﺍﺗﻪ, ﻭ ﻃﺎﻗﺎﺗﻪ ﻓﻰ ﺗﻄﻮﻳﺮ

Ziddy 2001: 108). At the same time, the basic ; ﺍﻟﻤﺠﺘﻤﻊ ﺍﻟﺬﻯ ﻳﻌﻴﺶ ﻓﻴﻪ

12 In the questionnaire, students and teachers could respond using answers such as awāqif tamāman (I agree completely), awāqif ilā addin mā (I agree to a certain extent), ghayr muta ākid (not sure), lā awāqif (I don´t agree), lā awāqif mulaqan (I do not agree at all) (see Ziddy 2001). In addition to primary and secondary school, most of the students had attended a Qur ānic school. Yet all of them had left Qur ānic school before they had memorized the Qur ān completely. 72.3% of the students attended courses in religious studies at other places than their madrasa and 90.3% studied religious texts in their free time (Ziddy 2001: 124). Islamic education in revolutionary zanzibar 505 principles of education in Zanzibar were socialist, while those of Islamic studies were based on Islam. President Nyerere had said that there were several types of faith and that socialism was one of them Ziddy 2001: 109). Zanzibar was thus confronted ;ﺍﻹﺷﺘﺮﺍﻛﻴﺔ ﻫﻰ ﺍﻹﻳﻤﺎﻥ) with two competing concepts of faith. Most teachers thought that the struggle between religion and the state was particularly hard, as socialism was constantly emphasized as the basic philosophy of the state (Ziddy 2001: 109). Questions on the compatibility of syllabus and society produced rather mixed results among teachers (Ziddy 2001: 110-112). A majority of teachers (84.3%) thought that the syllabus was compatible with social developments. At the same time, a majority of teachers thought that the syllabus was not really related to social debates (53.8%). With respect to teaching methods, didactics and teaching strategies, most teachers agreed that the blackboard was the most important piece of equipment for teaching (61.5%), that dictation was still the most important method of teaching (96.2%), and that the syllabus could not be taught with modern didactic methods (57.7%), a result that was confirmed by the students (69.8%). Dictation was still widespread, even though this method of teaching did not really stimulate mutuality, initiative and creative thinking among the students Ziddy 2001: 116). With ;ﻻ ﺗﺒﻌﺚ ﺣﺐ ﺍﻹﺑﺘﻜﺎﺭ ﻭ ﺍﻟﺘﻌﺎﻭﻥ ﺑﻴﻦ ﺍﻟﻄﻼﺏ) respect to the use of other didactic means and methods of teaching, such as newspapers, periodicals, charts and pictures, the inquiry shows that these methods were used only partially or rejected entirely: 61.5% of the teachers admitted that they did not use them in class (Ziddy 2001: 116), while 73% of the students confirmed that teachers did not recur to other didactic methods. In their methods of teaching, most teachers thus relied on oral strategies connected with the word-by-word techniques of instruction (wasā il al-lafiyya). This result was complemented by the fact mentioned above, namely, that 54.9% of the teachers had problems with the use of modern means of instruction. Methods and didactics of teaching should thus be addressed more prominently in the syllabus (Ziddy 2001: 116). Most teachers (76.9%) thought that the syllabus considered examinations as the only way to test knowledge, and that learning by rote was the most important method of learning (96.1%). According to many teachers, faith (dīn) was essentially rū tasrī, ‘a hidden (secret) spirit’ and not knowledge that could be acquired. It was thus not possible 506 chapter nine to assess the effectiveness of teaching or the achievements of students simply by counting how many ajzā of the Qur ān or how much adīth they had memorized, or by examining how much knowledge a student had acquired regarding the prescriptions of the faith and ﻭ ﻣﻦ ﻫﻨﺎ ﻻ ﻳﻘﺎﺱ ﻧﺠﺎﺡ ﺍﻟﻄﺎﻟﺐ ﺑﺄﺟﺰﺍﺀ ﺍﻟﻘﺮﺁﻥ ﻭ ﻣﺘﻮﻥ ﺍﻷﺣﺎﺩﻳﺚ ﺍﻟﺘﻰ a the sharī Ziddy 2001: 117). In the ﺣﻔﻈﻬﺎ, ﺃﻭ ﺑﻤﺎ ﻳﻌﺮﻑ ﻣﻦ ﺃﺣﻜﺎﻡ ﺍﻟﺪﻳﻦ ﻭ ﺷﺮﻳﻌﺎﺗﻪ current system of education in Zanzibar, faith was defined, however, by the quantity of knowledge acquired. This was confirmed by 88.5% of the teachers. Also, 77% of the teachers thought that oral and written examinations were a good yardstick for measuring the success of education and the evaluation of their students. The most important yardstick for success, according to the teachers, was thus examination-oriented learning. This was confirmed by 92.3% of the teachers and 65.2% of the students (Ziddy 2001: 117). The inquiry showed that both teachers and students thought that simply following Islamic legal and religious prescriptions was not sufficient to create a sound Muslim society. Many teachers (as well as students) even thought that religion was marginal in Zanzibari society and that religious activities were mostly confined to some seasonal activities such as the celebration of the mawlid, or attendance at mosques during Ramadhan or the īd al-fir celebrations (Ziddy 2001: 120). There was thus a discrepancy between the claims and the reality of religious practice: religious duties and obligations were fulfilled and learnt mechanically, but they did not become internalized forms of behaviour in the lives of the students (Ziddy 2001: 120). This was also reflected in the teachers’ opinions: 57.7% of the teachers thought that Zanzibari society was only superficially Islamic (Ziddy 2001: 120) and in fact was characterized by alcoholism, the quest for beauty, the cult of the body, sexuality, the aping of fashions and the problems of tourism. Most teachers (50%) thought that their efforts were not supported by the parents (Ziddy 2001: 121). A majority of teachers also agreed that Zanzibari society cultivated rather negative views of religion (84.5%), and that society was essentially not interested in Islamic education (85.9%) (Ziddy 2001: 122). A majority of the students, namely 96.3%, thought that there was a connection between the syllabus and Zanzibari social traditions. Yet, a considerable group (85.7%) thought that the current syllabus had shortcomings (Ziddy 2001: 126). Methods and strategies of Islamic education in revolutionary zanzibar 507 teaching were seen critically. Only 27% of the students thought that the teachers employed modern didactics and methods of teaching, while 91.2% would have liked to have discussions in class rather than dictation (Ziddy 2001: 128). Although the syllabus theoretically stressed the necessity of methods other than dictation and learning by rote, these other methods of teaching were not used in reality (68.2% of the students) (Ziddy 2001: 129). Both students and parents maintained that teachers stressed the ethics and morals of Islam in class, yet they often did not join in communal prayers (confirmed by 62.5% of the students) (Ziddy 2001: 129). The analysis of the students’ responses showed that watching videos or playing cards had become increasingly popular to the detriment of religious activities (Ziddy 2001: 132). The discrepancies between the theoretical goals of the syllabus and social realities were shown in Zanzibar’s laws and government announcements regarding religion. Thus, the revolution lacked commitment to Islam as the official religion of the state ,(Ziddy 2001: 137 ; ﺇﻥ ﻋﺪﻡ ﺍﻋﺘﺮﺍﻑ ﺍﻟﺜﻮﺭﺓ ﺑﺄﻥ ﺍﻟﺪﻳﻦ ﺍﻟﺮﺳﻤﻰ ﻟﻠﺪﻭﻟﺔ ﻫﻮ ﺍﻹﺳﻼﻡ) although 98% of the population was Muslim; also, there was no rec- ognizable interest of the state in religious education, as manifested, for instance, in the abolition of religious classes after the revolution (Ziddy 2001: 137). And there were statements by the Zanzibari government to the effect that the basic philosophy of both the government and the educational system was ‘socialist’ (Ziddy 2001: 137), ﺃﻥ ﺍﻟﺪﻳﻦ ﺷﻴﻰﺀ ﻭ) ’and that society and religion were ‘different things Ziddy 2001: 137). This was confirmed by both ; ﺍﻟﻤﺠﺘﻤﻊ ﺷﻴﻰﺀ ﺁﺧﺮ teachers (53.9%) and students (60.2%). In addition, 57.7% of the Islamics teachers thought that society despised them, a clear indication that the 1964 revolution had transformed Zanzibar into a secular Ziddy 2001: 137). The ;ﺃﻥ ﺛﻮﺭﺓ ١٩٦٤ ﻧﻘﻠﺖ ﺯﻧﺠﺒﺎﺭ ﺇﻟﻰ ﺍﻟﻌﻠﻤﺎﻧﻴﺔ) society reality of this development was expressed again by many students who stressed the importance of religion. At the same time, they often did not live accordingly. As a result, Ziddy’s inquiry could not identify a single convincing argument to suggest that the teaching of the existing religious studies syllabus was in any way related to the every- ﻻ ﻳﺠﺪ ﺩﻟﻴﻼ ﻗﺎﻃﻌﺎ ﻭ ﺷﺎﻫﺪﺍ ﻳﺜﺒﺖ ﺃﻥ ﻫﻨﺎﻙ ﻋﻼﻗﺔ ﻷﺛﺮ) day life of students .(Ziddy 2001: 139 ; ﻫﺬﺍ ﺍﻟﻤﻨﻬﺞ ﺣﻰ ﺳﻠﻮﻛﻴﺎﺕ ﺍﻟﻄﻼﺏ ﺍﻟﺪﻳﻨﻴﺔ 508 chapter nine

9.5. Shule, madrasa and Montessori à la Zanzibarienne

In the context of my research, I had the opportunity to visit a number of government schools of different type and orientation, and to see the actual condition of these schools, among them, the Mwanakwerekwe Secondary School and the Chuo Cha Kiislamu (CCK), Zanzibar’s only ‘Islamic’ secondary school, the Zanzibar University in Tunguu, the State University of Zanzibar and the College of Education in Chukwani. I was also able to visit a number of schools at times when no teaching was being done, in particular, the Nkrumah TTC at ‘Beit el-Ras’, Lumumba Secondary School, Zanzibar’s biggest secondary school in Saateni, Haile Selassie Secondary School and Ben Bella Secondary School in Vuga, Hamamni Secondary School and Tumekuja Secondary School in Shangani. In the course of my visits to different schools, I saw that classes were overcrowded, and background noise often made teaching a difficult task. The realities of everyday school life became particularly clear in the context of a visit to Mwanakwerekwe Secondary School during a teaching inspection on 6 August 2004. The school had 24 mixed classes and teaching was done in morning and afternoon shifts. The school had about 1,500 students, more girls than boys, 35 per class on average. All classrooms were open to the courtyard; the level of background noise in each class was high and teachers had great difficulty in making themselves heard, even if their own class was quiet. The equipment was rudimentary, as in all primary and government schools, the general condition of the building bad, but clean. There were broken floors and sanitary conditions were bad. Teaching was frontal, and the teacher asked questions but was often forced to answer them him/ herself as students were not responding.

Chuo Beyond the teaching of IRI at government schools, it is possible to identify a spectrum of private Qur ānic schools and madāris which are tolerated by the revolutionary government, as long as they accept the government syllabus, and which have received financial support from international Islamic organisations such as the Munaamat al-Dawa al-Islāmiyya. These organizations started to support Islamic education in Zanzibar in 1984 by sending books and training teachers to develop the basis for an intermediate school diploma in Islamic education in revolutionary zanzibar 509

Zanzibar (Ziddy 2001: 35; 2002: 16).13 Zanzibar’s Qur ānic schools and madāris can be differentiated today according to their temporal organization, ranging from ‘full-time’ Qur ānic schools offering a complete syllabus in Qur ānic studies and teaching in the morning, afternoon and evening; to ‘part-time’ Qur ānic schools and madāris where teaching is done in temporal alternation with government school classes, either in the morning or in the evening; and finally one-day Qur ānic schools, where classes take place only on Saturdays (Ziddy 2002a: 18). As in the past, Qur ānic schools in Zanzibar today start teaching with the urūf al- ijā (i.e. the alphabet) and continue with the formation of whole words (takwīn), then start reading and memorization. Nowadays, many teachers do not know Arabic well and teaching is done in Kiswahili. The Qur ān is still recited aloud and the children sit on the ground. While in the past Qur ānic schools were connected with mosques, they have often shifted today into separate buildings due to the ‘noise’ the children make when reciting the Qur ān (IC72, 4.3.2001). The increasing spatial separation between mosques and madāris has resulted in a loss of sacredness: madāris that are no longer linked to a mosque lack the aura of a mosque and have turned into pure institutions of learning (IC72, 16.8.2007). Qur ānic schools still charge no fees, though. At the same time, the old disciplinary system has been maintained and children are at times beaten (IC104, 7.8.2007). Good students memorize poems after having completed the Qur ān, especially those linked with the mawlid al-nabī celebrations. Short texts such as irshād al-muslimīn or safīnat al-najā might be read as well. After completing Qur ānic school, students may continue their education in the mosques and houses of the advanced scholars (Ziddy 2002a: 9). The old Qur ānic schools have found it increasingly difficult, however, to compete with the government schools, especially since modern madāris started to proliferate in the late 1990s (see chapter 8). Government schools have thus become a major challenge to Qur ānic schools and their teachers, in particular

13 The work of the Munaamat al-Dawa al-Islāmiyya was complemented in 1998 by the activities of the Lajna Muslima Ifrīqiyya (Africa Muslim Agency, AMA; see chapter 3 and below; Ziddy 2002: 16). Aid and support from Islamic countries have not been documented, so far, although Islamic and Arab states have donated considerable funds through the OIC, the Islamic Development Bank and AMA, in addition to funding from individual countries such as Egypt, the Sudan and Saudi Arabia, and private donors (Ziddy 2001: 35; 2002: 16). 510 chapter nine as far as teachers’ income and time-regimes were concerned. Modern madāris offer a larger choice of texts and disciplines, and are more open to trans-local influences, but often also less open-minded as far as the interpretation of knowledge is concerned (IC72, 4.3.2001). Despite the gradual encroachment of government schools, Qur ānic schools persist, however, although the government has sought to exert increasing influence. The Waqf Commission and the Muftī’s office have started, for instance, to establish a statistical overview of all Qur ānic schools. These efforts could lead to increasing bureaucratic control of the Qur ānic schools. Among the Qur ānic schools I visited were two in Makunduchi affiliated to the Qādiriyya, one being the madrasa of asan b. Amīr, the other being Mamūd Kombo’s school, as well as two Qur ānic schools in Kendwa, one affiliated to the Qādiriyya and one managed by graduates of the CCK, as well as five Qur ānic schools in Zanzibar Town: the madrasat al-nūr in Ukutani (see below), the Madrasat al-Īmān in Ukutani, the darsa of Mwalimu Idris in his mosque in Shangani, the ‘New Unity Centre school’ of Jabir Haydar al-Farsy in Shangani which had, however, ceased to exist by 2007, due to lack of students,14 as well as the Madrasat Amīriyya in Kwa Ali Nathoo/ Ng’ambo. The Madrasat Amīriyya developed from the teaching activities of asan b. Amīr (see Shani 2004), but was basically developed by his students, in particular Fatawi Issa, who in 1964 had become the new Chief Qā ī of Zanzibar and seems to have used his position to protect the school in the aftermath of the revolution (IC28, 10.9.2008). His successor as mudīr of the madrasa was Ameir Tajo ‘Mkubwa’, who, until his death in 1992, was also Chief Qā ī of Zanzibar. The school was renovated in 1999, and reopened in a celebration ceremony in 2000, attended by Salmin Amour. The school honoured the memory of Sayyid Umar Abdallāh and Umar b. Sumay. It was open, however, to all orientations and never turned

14 This school was directed by Jabir Haydar Jabir al-Farsy and had developed its own syllabus ‘on behalf of the maahadul wahdatil jadiydu fiy markazil wahdatil jadiydu’ (sic). The aims of the schools werekumkumbuka Mtume, kuwakumbuka watu wa nyumbani kwake. The teaching emphasis was:Kumpenda Mtume wenu, kuwap- enda watu wa nyumbani kwake, kusoma Qur-an (sic). At the end of the text, the aims of the school were repeated and some other objectives were named, namely, to teach languages (English), commerce (masomo ya biashara), and masomo ya computer, so that contemporary youth might prevail in contemporary times: tuwajenge vijana wetu wawe na uwezo mzuri wa kukabiliana na mazingira yao ya hapa duniani (al- Farsy 2003). Islamic education in revolutionary zanzibar 511 into a madrasa or even a zāwiya of the Qādiriyya. Rather its teachers represented a spectrum of religious orientations, including the Anār al-Sunna (IC72, 20.3.2003, 16.8.2007; IC27, 30.7.2002). Ameir Tajo himself taught throughout the week except Thursdays, and he had a number of different classes and students: a class for students who came for different disciplines and different texts; they would come after ar-prayers in the evening. Then a class for students who came for formal lectures on one discipline and one text; they would come from Monday to Wednesday for fiqh, and from Friday to Sunday for qur ān, after maghrib prayers. Then there were those students who came in Ramadan only. In addition, there were students who came for specific disciplines and texts on Sunday mornings to the house of asan b. Amīr, where Ameir Tajo would continue to teach. Finally, there were students who came irregularly or from distant places. They were asked to join as time allowed. While travelling, Ameir Tajo also taught students in other places. His Ramadan classes were broadcast by Radio Zanzibar (Shani 2004: 17). In 2002, the syllabus of the Madrasat Amīriyya included tajwīd, adīth, fiqh, taw īd, Arabic, history of Islam, mawlid, sīra and qaīda. Textbooks were mostly small texts such as irshād al-muslimīn, safīnat al-najā , hidāyat al-afāl, risālat al-jāmia, al-durar al-bahiyya, hidāyat al-mustafīd, al-arbaīn al-nawawiyya, al-mabādi al-fiqhiyya, khulāat nūr al-yaqīn and mawlid Barzanjī. The school specialized in training reciters (muqri ) and conducted mawlid ceremonies. Teaching of both boys’ and girls’ classes started at 7.30am for those who had school in the afternoon, and stopped at 11am. Classrooms were well equipped and fairly modern. The school had four classrooms with a total number of 200 students, boys and girls, in mixed classes, girls forming a slight majority of the students. Also, there were six teachers and a teachers’ room. The building contained some small shops for general shopping purposes and stationery products, as well as the office of al-Maarifa, a defunct opposition paper (IC72, 17.8.2002). By 2007, the Madrasat Amīriyya had entered a period of crisis, due to the fact that teachers could not be paid properly and had started to take on jobs outside the madrasa in order to earn their living. Thus, they did not come to classes any more on a regular basis. As a consequence, the quality of teaching at the Madrasat Amīriyya has deteriorated and many parents have taken their children away (IC72, 27.7., 16.8.2007). 512 chapter nine

Gofu, Barza, Ukutani and the Madrasat al-Nūr Until 1964, an important feature of Qur ānic education was, as has been mentioned above (chapter 4), that teaching was connected with personalities and not so much with buildings or institutions. Thus, students went to the house of their teacher and as long as this teacher was alive, classes took place there. When he chose to shift his class to a mosque, the students followed suit and the mosque would become the new centre of learning. At the same time, specific places could lose their role of providing a roof for a scholar and his class. The history of the madāris and mosques of Zanzibar has always been connected thus with the biographies of the scholars who taught there. Famous schools could fall into oblivion after the demise of their teachers (IC26, 21.8. and 3.9.2002, IC73, 22.8. and 5.9.2002, IC4, 7.9.2002). The changes in madrasa education can be clearly seen in the history of the mosques and madāris of the Ukutani-Hamamni- Kajificheni and Mkunazini quarters, which I have come to call the ‘learned heart of Zanzibar’, due to the high density of mosques and madāris in this small area of Stone Town (see map 3 on p. xxiii). In 2004, the ‘learned heart of Zanzibar’ had more than 20 mosques and madāris in an area of approximately half a square kilometre. Among these mosques and schools were some of the oldest centres of learning in Zanzibar, such as the Gofu and Barza mosques, as well as Zanzibar’s biggest contemporary madrasa, the Madrasat al-Nūr. The history of these mosques and schools shows how precarious these traditions of learning have been over time (IC73, 5.9. and IC26, 3.9.2002; personal visits). Gofu mosque, for instance, was, established around 1800, while Barza mosque (Mskiti Barza) was built in about 1870 by Khamīs b. Uthmān, and belonged to the al-usaynī family, which also owned property in Ukutani (see chapter 3). On the first floor of Mskiti Barza, the Qur ān was taught, while the ground floor became a primary school. After completing their studies at Barza, children went to Gofu and/or (from 1909) to Ukutani, i.e. the Madrasat Bā Kathīr, where advanced texts were taught. In addition, there was teaching in Jibrin (Jibrili) which was built by an Indian businessman and called ‘Jibrin’ after Fort Jibrin in Nizwa/Oman. This mosque was connected with the Sunni Memon Madrasa, which was again the madrasa of the ‘Memon’ community (IC26, 21.8.2002; see chapter 5). An Indian waqf, donated by the Kermalli family, supported the teachers in Ukutani financially, while Gofu mosque was Islamic education in revolutionary zanzibar 513 financed by the Jamal al-Layl family. Gofu, by contrast to Barza, had classes in the morning, afternoon and evening, and among these classes were not only Qur ānic classes but also advanced classes. The Hamamni-Mkunazini-Ukutani complex of schools and mosques, such as Gofu, Jibrili, Barza, Ukutani and others, has thus never been united in organizational terms. Rather, the schools and mosques were brought together by the scholars who taught in them. In this ‘system’, the Qur ān was taught at Barza, but also in Gofu. But whereas studies at Barza were limited to Qur ān (and children), teachers at Gofu taught other texts as well (to both children and adults). Barza was always a Qur ānic school for children, even under well known teachers such as Sulaymān (Muammad) al- Alawī Jamal al-Layl (B84). The most important teachers at Barza in the early 20th century were Amad b. Alī Manab, his son, āmid b. Amad Manab, Musin b. Alī al-Barwānī and Muammad b. Abd al-Ramān al-Makhzūmī (see also chapter 3). In the mid-20th century, the most important teachers were Abdallāh Mu adhdhin (B131), Sulaymān al- Alawī Jamal al-Layl and Mwalimu imīd (B63). Mwalimu imīd became the leading teacher after the death of Abdallāh Mu adhdhin. He had already been a Qur ān teacher at Barza, but when Mu allim Bā Kathīr (see below) took over the Barza Qur ānic classes from Sulaymān al- Alawī Jamal al-Layl, who died in 1970, he went to Dar es Salaam (IC73, 5.9.2002 and IC26, 3.9.2002). Gofu, by contrast, became a centre of the Bā Kathīr family in the 20th century (see chapter 3): Abdallāh Bā Kathīr, his students Muammad b. Umar b. Khaīb, Musin b. Alī al-Barwānī, Amad b. Alī Manab, āmid b. Amad Manab, Abdallāh āli al-Farsy as well as Mwalimu imīd taught at Gofu and also led the prayers at different times and on different occasions (IC73 and IC21, 5.9.2002). From 1919, Muammad b. Umar al-Khaīb was a reciter (muqri ) of the Qur ān at Gofu until 1939, when Abdallāh āli al-Farsy took over from him in this function, to be followed by his nephew, Sālim b. Zagar al-Farsy (d. 2006) in February 1966. Sālim b. Zagar al-Farsy also took over the morning prayers at Gofu and became chief imām of Gofu in 2002 as successor of Alī b. Umar al-Qullatayn (IC25, 27.2.2003; IC26, 25.5.2004, see picture on p. 141). After his arrival in Zanzibar in 1890, Abdallāh Bā Kathīr, who was related by marriage to the Jamal al-Layl family, started to teach at Gofu (see Penrad 1998: 312ff; Bang 2003). This mosque was just on the other side of the ‘Ukutani’ plot of land, where Shaykh Bā Kathīr 514 chapter nine soon built a house. Abdallāh Bā Kathīr’s Gofu lectures attracted many students and were then extended to his house in Ukutani, while elementary classes for children continued to be taught at Barza. In this house in Ukutani, Abdallāh Bā Kathīr started to give advanced lectures from 1909, and these classes came to be known as the Madrasat Bā Kathīr. Abdallāh Bā Kathīr’s adult classes in his madrasa were later taken over by Muammad b. Umar al-Khaīb, and after him Sulaimān al- Alawī Jamal al-Layl. In 1909, the room in Ukutani was extended to accommodate the growing number of students, who followed a new syllabus of learning as adopted from the Ribā al-Riyā a in Say ūn and the ribā in Tarīm (Bang 2003: 147). The Madrasa Bā Kathīr thus offered a systematic course of teaching in fiqh, tafsīr, lugha and na w, and teaching followed a regular syllabus. Students sat at a table on which the necessary works of reference were placed (Bang 2003: 148). After his death in 1925, Shaykh Bā Kathīr’s ‘Gofu’ classes were taken over, as has been discussed in chapter 3, by his son Abūbakar Bā Kathīr (1881-1943) who became a major teacher for many Zanzibaris. Abūbakar Bā Kathīr also taught the Ukutani classes of his father, the Madrasat Bā Kathīr, as did Umar al-Khaīb and Musin b. Alī al-Barwānī. In addition, Abūbakar Bā Kathīr established a class in a house in Kikwajuni/ Ngambo, as well as Ramadan classes in Jibrili mosque, where Qur ān, na w, fiqh, and lugha were taught. After Abūbakar Bā Kathīr’s death in 1943, Muammad Umar al-Khaīb took over the Bā Kathīr house in Ukutani and transformed it into a waqf, which was the accepted way to provide support for a madrasa (see Makdisi 1981). Equally, the expansion of Barza into a larger madrasa, the Madrasat al-Nūr, as it came to be called later, started in this time. Work on this mosque- madrasa opposite Ukutani progressed only slowly, however, and when the revolution started, only the ground floor had been completed. After the revolution, Gofu, Barza, ‘Ukutani’ and the Sunni Memon Madrasa continued their activities and teaching for some time, even if this was increasingly difficult, not only because teachers left, but also because some teachers died. Among them was Sulaymān al- Alawī Jamal al-Layl. With his death in 1970 and the emigration of Mwalimu imīd to Dar es Salaam, advanced learning stopped at Gofu. The growth of the Madrasat al-Nūr as a modern madrasa was connected with Abdallāh b. Abībakar b. Abdallāh Bā Kathīr alias Mu allim Bakathir. The Madrasat al-Nūr developed in three stages Islamic education in revolutionary zanzibar 515 in the 20th century: it started out, under a different name (Barza), as a chuo, a Qur ānic school with large classes, a single teacher and several aides. As a school by this name, the Madrasat al-Nūr was established only on 1 March 1967, and was initially accommodated in a building behind the Sunni Memon Madrasa near the ‘Ruta (Reuters) mosque’. After 1967, the school at Barza became a madrasa- chuo with smaller classes and several teachers. Over the years this school was slowly enlarged. Extension work was completed in the 1980s and in 1985, the different sections of the Madrasat al-Nūr eventually moved into the new building that joined Barza mosque. This new building was called the Mahad Muallim Bakathir. It contained the offices of the mahad and the school, as well as classrooms and a library. In 1993 further extensions were necessary. In the context of this construction work, Barza mosque was extended as well. Mu allim Bakathir got funds for these projects from Saudi Arabia and Pakistan and was thereby able to consolidate his control over the madrasa. A major part of the rooms were used for private purposes, though (IC4, 4.8.2002; Purpura 1997: 130). In 1994, the school finally became a modern mahad, where children sat at desks and followed a specific syllabus (IC25, 9.3.2001). Today, theMadrasat al-Nūr domi- nates the quarter and possibly is the biggest madrasa in Zanzibar with about 1,000 students. The development of theMadrasat al-Nūr shows that Islamic education in Zanzibar was characterized, even after the revolution, by the link between teacher and students and not so much by the students’ identification with an institution. Since the foundation of the Madrasat al-Nūr in 1967, the school was directed by Mu allim Bakathir. He started teaching with 30 pupils, but already had 400 students in 1968 (Penrad 1998: 314). Although he continued to teach only primary classes, he had become a respected teacher by the early 1990s. The fact that the revolutionary government allowed the return of Mu allim Bakathir in 1967, the same year in which Abdallāh āli al-Farsy left Zanzibar and in which grants for studies in Egypt were stopped, was probably linked with the fact that the Bā Kathīr family had never been part of the Alawī establishment and that Mu allim Bakathir had received his education outside Zanzibar, yet not in Egypt or Hadramaut, the old centers of Islamic learning, but in Saudi Arabia. He could thus be regarded as not being influenced by local elitist notions of scholarship. In fact, in the years to come, he was prepared to cultivate new, Saudi oriented, programmes of Islamic learning in his schools, 516 chapter nine

especially in the Madrasat al-Nūr. In this context it must be remembered that although Mu allim Bakathir was a grandson of Abdallāh Bā Kathīr, and a son of Abūbakar Bā Kathīr, his mother was not from a well known scholarly family. His father died in 1943, when he was still a small child, and thus never taught his own son. Mu allim Bakathir later studied in Lamu and at the Islamic University in Medina, yet was not able to complete his studies there due to illness. After his return to Zanzibar in 1967, he took over classes at the Sunni Memon Madrasa and Barza (in 1970), teaching Qur ān, adīth, lugha, fiqh, qaīda and mawlid. In the early 1970s he also taught classes at Jibrili, as well as evening classes in Gofu. Eventually, he taught classes in four different mosques: Sunni Memon, Gofu, Jibrili and Barza, while he lived in Ukutani. These classes were eventually united, in 1985, in the new building of the Madrasat al-Nur. Mu allim Bakathir also established a second waqf title on the Bā Kathīr house in Ukutani, this time under his own name, triggering a legal dispute, as there was already a waqf title on the Ukutani buildings written in the name of Muammad Umar al-Khaib. A group of Ukutani-Gofu-Barza students, who were excluded by these developments, eventually asked scholars from Lamu to intervene in this dispute. However, their intervention misfired, due to the fact that Mu allim Bakathir had the support of the government regarding his own claims. Even after the death of Mu allim Bakathir in 2000, this dispute continued to smolder. Ukutani thus experienced two ‘coups’: the first in 1970, when Mu allim Bakathir took over Barza and Ukutani classes, after the death of Sulaymān al- Alawī Jamal al-Layl, despite the opposition of Mwalimu imīd. The second coup was the takeover of the Madrasat al-Nūr and the Ukutani buildings as a waqf by Mu allim Bakathir in the 1980s (IC73 and IC21, 5.9.2002). In this context, the registration of a second waqf title over Ukutani can be interpreted as an effort by Mu allim Bakathir to assume control despite older claims to Ukutani that were linked with the scholarly legacy of the ‘ancien regime’. It was no wonder that the revolutionary government supported the registration of a second waqf title on Ukutani, while older claims on Ukutani which dispute the new waqf deed have been cocooned in the Waqf Commission. Since the 1990s, probably a quarter of the children in Zanzibar Town have passed through the Madrasat al-Nūr. This remarkable expansion has forced the school to employ an increasing number of teachers and to expand the school buildings as well as their number. Islamic education in revolutionary zanzibar 517

In 1998, the Madrasat al-Nūr had classes in five different buildings: the Ma had Bā Kathīr, the Jibril mosque, the two original houses in Ukutani, and a new branch of the school in the Malindi quarter, the Madrasat al-Īmān (Penrad 1998: 315). By 2003, the school had also acquired ‘proper’ school equipment: tables, chairs and blackboards. In 1994, due to its constant growth, the school was reorganized as well. The school became a mahad with Mu allim Bakathir as mudīr. In addition, the school had a directorial committee. The syllabus was also reorganized: thus, the school started with a nursery school, then Qur ānic classes at three levels and, finally, primary education on three higher levels. The Qur ānic school levels as well as the three higher levels correspond to primary school standards I-VI (Penrad 1998: 315). In late 1994, 1,094 students were registered who paid 100 Shilingi as school fees per month. In addition, there were 32 teachers, who also taught in government schools. Many students continued their education after completing their studies at the Madrasat al-Nūr and went to Saudi Arabia, Sudan, Kuwait, Indonesia or Qatar. After their return, they became teachers (Penrad 1998: 316). Graduates of the school, as well as former Imāms and teachers of the madrasa, have established branches of the madrasa in other parts of Zanzibar, usually their own villages.15 After the death of Mu allim Bakathir in 2000, Muhammad Magid (d. 2002) became director of the Madrasat al-Nūr. He was trained at the Muslim Academy and taught at the College of Education. Muhammad Magid also had a radio and TV programme. He was author of a tafsīr as taught at the Madrasat al-Nūr. Muhammad Magid’s successor as director of the Madrasat al-Nūr was another government scholar, Khalid Muhammad Mrisho, who had studied at Medina (IC72, 13.8.2002). In 2002, the madrasa had 24 teachers, including two female teachers, some seconded from the government, as well as 995 students, a kindergarten (rau a), an ibtidā iyya branch of six forms, as well as a thanawiyya (middle, second) branch of three forms. There were also plans to transform the Madrasat al-Nūr into a secondary school. Some teachers were trained at the Muslim Academy, while some even taught at the Muslim Academy. The classes at the Madrasat al-Nūr followed the pattern of government school shifts from 7.30am to

15 In addition, the madrasa had a football team called ‘Nūr’ from 1976. This football team was also founded by Mu allim Bakathir. In the 1990s, this football team was even able to win the national championship in the Zanzibar first league (Penrad 1998: 317). It had become dormant by 2007. 518 chapter nine

11.00am and from 13-17.00pm. Disciplines were Qur ān, ifz, sīra, adīth, ulūm al- adīth, fiqh, ibādāt, muāmalāt, in particular, zakāt, inheritance (mīrāth), all on the basis of the Shāfi ī school of law, as well as uūl al-fiqh, lugha, arf, na w, ingliziyya, mathematics, ta rīkh and tajwīd. Those who had good voices were able to take an optional course in mawlid (Barzanjī), although mawlid was not obligatory. Still, it seems that the Madrasat al-Nūr has become a major centre for the training of mawlid recitation (Penrad 1998: 317). The fact that teachers were trained or recruited in Egypt was connected with the fact that Egypt was predominantly Shāfi ī, while the Sudan was Mālikī, and Saudi-Arabia anbalī (IC46, 19.8.2002). In , the syllabus (muqarrar) of the Madrasat al-Nūr offered thirteen disciplines in six primary (ibtidā ī) classes (fuūl) and three intermediate (mutawasi) ‘rows’ (aff), namely:

discipline/year 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 if' al-qur ān 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 tafsīr 1 1 1 1 1 1 - - - tajwīd 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 - adīth 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 fiqh 1 1 1 1 1 1 - - - fiqh al-zawāj ------1 - - farā i ------1 1 sīra - - - - 1 1 1 1 1 tawīd - - - - 1 1 1 1 1 lugha ( arabiyya) 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 naw ------1 1 1 arf ------1 1 1 al-akhlāq ------1 1 1 total no. of teaching units 6 6 6 6 8 8 10 10 9

The syllabus of the Madrasat al-Nūr (XI) was probably the most detailed and encompassing syllabus of all madāris in Zanzibar in 2002. In its composition it manifests a clear orientation towards Saudi Arabia, not only regarding ‘easy-to-read’ Saudi textbooks (see chapter 8), but whole sections of the syllabus as such: if al-Qur ān: 1st class (al-fal al-awwal al-ibtidā ī): first part of the 29th juz of the muaf. Islamic education in revolutionary zanzibar 519

2nd class: second half of the 29th juz . 3rd class: 28th juz , 1st half. 4th class: 28th juz , 2nd half. 5th class: 27th juz , 1st half. 6th class: 27th juz , 2nd half 7th class (al-fal al-awwal al-mutawasi): 26th juz , 1st half. 8th class: 26th juz , 2nd half. 9th class: 25th juz . The major text is the Qur ān. tafsīr: 1st class: tafsīr li-sūrat al-fātia (1), tafsīr li-juz amma: sūrat al-nās (114)—sūrat al-kawthar (108). 2nd class: sūrat al-mā ūn (107)—sūrat al-zalzalah (99). 3rd class: sūrat al-bayyinah (98)—sūrat al-shams (91). 4th class: sūrat al-balad (90)—sūrat al-burūj (85). 5th class: sūrat al-inshiqāq (84)—sūrat al-takwīr (81). 6th class: sūrat abasa (80)—sūrat mursalat (77). The major text here is the tafsīr by Muammad Magid (see above). tajwīd: 1st class: rules of tajwīd, as for instance, with respect to the basmala. 2nd class: rules of tajwīd: tartīl, adhr, tadwīl; qamariyya wa-shamsiyya. 3rd class: rules such as sajjāda, al-qalqala. 4th class: sukūt, akām al-rā , al-madda etc. 5th class: rules of waqf, sukūn, etc. 6th class: further rules for specific consonants. 7th class: ditto 8th class: ditto Major texts are hidāyat al-mustafīd; al-shāfiī fī-ilm al-tajwīd; burhān fī-tajwīd al-Qur ān; qawā id al-tartīl. adīth: 1st class: al-aādīth al-nabawiyya (the matn al-arbaīn). 2nd class: ditto, but different aādīth. 3rd class: ditto 4th class: ditto 5th class: ditto 6th class: ditto 7th class: ditto 8th class: ditto 9th class: Iilā al-adīth; al-adīth al-qudsī; etc. Texts are aya zilizochuguliwa (al-aādīth al-mukhtara li-l-jāmi a...); the respective parts of the Saudi syllabus on adīth (from class 3); taysīr muala al- adīth; al-wā i fī-uūl al-fiqh; matn al-arbaīn al- nabawiyya. fiqh: 1st class: al-ahāra, al-alāt. 520 chapter nine

2nd class: zakāt, aum, ajj. 3rd class: al-ahāra, al-wu ū , al-tayammum, etc. 4th class: al-alāt, al-adhān, shurū al-alāt etc. 5th class: zakāt, aum al-rama ān etc. 6th class: al-ajj, al- umra. Texts are hidāyat al-afāl; mukhtaara shar arkān al-Islām; minhaj al-sālikīn wa-taw ī al-fiqh bi-l-dīn. fiqh al-zawāj: 7th class only: al-nikā, al-alāq, al-adāq etc.: i.e. rules concerning marriage. Texts are tu fat al-urūs; minhaj al-muslim kitāb aqā id wa-adab; the respective parts of the syllabus for the kingdom of Saudi Arabia on fiqh al-zawāj. farā i al-fiqh: 8th class: introduction into farā i , mīrāth (inheritage), etc. 9th class: ibid.: inheritage rules. Texts are fiqh al-sunna; minhaj al-muslim; the respective parts of the syllabus of the kingdom of Saudi-Arabia on farā i . sīra al-nabawiyya wa-l-ta rīkh al-islāmī: 5th class: life of the Prophet (before the hijra). 6th class: life of the Prophet (after the hijra). 7th class: al-khulafā al-rāshidūn. 8th class: the Umayyad empire. 9th class: the Abbasid empire, ala al-Dīn and the struggle against the crusaders. Texts are nūr al-yaqīn; durūs al-ta rīkh al-islāmiyya wa-a wāl al-dawla al-arabiyya (by Muyī al-Dīn al-Khaya). taw īd: 5th class: ma rifa al-rabb, ma rifa al-dīn, etc. 6th class: al- ibāda, al-kufr, al-jāhiliyya, al-ridda etc. 7th class: al-īmān bi-llāhi, al-īmān bi-l-malā ika, al-janna, etc. 8th class: al-īmān bi-l-kitāb, al-īmān bi-l-rasul, etc. 9th class: al-īmān bi-l-yaum al-ākhir, al-janna, al-jahannam; Texts are uūl al-dīn al-islāmī maa qawā idihi al-arba by Muammad b. Sulaimān al-Tamīmī and the kitāb al-taw īd by āli b. Fawzān al-Fawzān. al-lugha al-arabiyya: 1st class: reading and writing. 2nd class: ditto 3rd class: ditto, first short texts, grammar (singular, plural, etc.), inshā (composition). 4th class: ditto, further texts, numbers, inshā . 5th class: ditto, tenses, al-āf āl, inshā . 6th class: ditto, urūf al-qamariyya wa-l-shamsiyya. 7th class: ditto, longer and difficult texts. Islamic education in revolutionary zanzibar 521

8th class: ditto 9th class: ditto, long articles and composition on topics such as ‘fī-l- ula’ (in the holidays), or ‘Abū Bakr al-adīq’. Texts are from modern textbooks from Egypt by Dr. Maū Kāmil asan al-Nāqa and Dr. asan Amad Alī al- Arabawī; tāj al-sirr by Muammad Abd al-alīm; and the respective parts of the syllabus of the kingdom of Saudi-Arabia on lugha. na w: 7th class: introduction, prose and poetry, rules of grammar. 8th class: ditto 9th class: ditto The major text is the shar al-Azhariyya al-jadīd. arf: 7th class: ta rīf ilm al-arf; morphological rules; 8th class: ditto 9th class: ditto Major texts are taysīr al-arf (an Egyptian text book); anwān al-arf fī-ilm al-arf; shadhdh al-arif fī-l-arf by Amad al-amlāwī; and Egyptian textbooks. al-akhlāq: 7th class: introduction, opinions of the forefathers (ārā al-salaf) fī-bayān usn al-khulq (on the importance and beauty of character). 8th class: ibid., fī-khulq al- adl wa-l-rama. 9th class: ibid. The major text is minhaj al-muslim kitāb aqā id wa-adab.

The Madrasa Resource Centre One of the most interesting contemporary developments regarding Islamic education in Zanzibar has been associated since the 1990s with the Madrasa Resource Centre (MRC). The MRC is part of the ‘Aga Khan Development Network’ (AKDN) which was established by the Aga Khan in 1967 as part of the Aga Khan Foundation (AKF).16 During my visits to the MRC, which is accommodated in a large

16 The AKDN consists of nine subordinate bodies, such as the Aga Khan Fund for Economic Development, the Aga Khan Agency for Microfinance, the Aga Khan Edu- cation Services, the Aga Khan Health Services, the Aga Khan Planning and Building Services, the Aga Khan Trust for Culture, and two universities: the Aga Khan Uni- versity in Karachi and the AKU in Tajikistan, which was founded only recently. In 2003, the AKDN turned over approximately $230 million, mostly in form of contributions to the AKDN by the members of the Ismā īlī communities, income from other donors and income from landed property. In 2005, the AKFED controlled a fund of $1.5 billion and employed 18,000 people (Bigalke 2005: 34/35, see also Lud- wig 1999: 218). 522 chapter nine building in the southern part of the Malindi quarter, the centre was buzzing with activity. The number of women present was particularly remarkable. On 24 July 2003, I accompanied a group of MRC evalu- ators on a one-day visit to three MRC schools in Jambiani and Paje. The first MRC school visited in Jambiani had three teachers and a head teacher, as well as three groups of about twelve children each, boys and girls mixed. The timetable was an exact copy of the MRC timetable. The parents paid a fee of 500 Sh. per child per month, and the teachers got a salary for the annual teaching period. School material was often bought with donations, frequently from visiting tour- ists. The methods of teaching were a combination of ‘communal’ Montessori training, individual learning and established methods which put more stress on the cultural appropriateness of learning and knowledge of the Qur ān, which continued to be taught in the Qur ānic schools in the evening. According to the members of the MRC delegation, the establishment of the MRC network did not create competition with the Qur ānic schools, as the MRC children went to the Qur ānic schools in the evening. More and more parents thus sent their children to the MRC schools (IC7, 24.7.2003). The school had a playground, as well as sanitary facilities. After a long stay in this school, the delegation visited a second school in Jambiani that had reached a higher stage of development. This school was bigger and better equipped. There were about 15 children per class, which was almost the maximum of 15-17 children accepted by the MRC. If more children joined, the class had to be divided and a new teacher had to be hired. Most of these teachers were women who had not been able to complete their own secondary school education, and who were hired by the MRC and trained as teachers at the MRC in Zanzibar town. This school was also part of the ‘second intake’ in Jambiani. Altogether, there were four schools in Jambiani, one for each ‘intake’. The first ‘intake’ had started in 1991/2. Each ‘intake’ covered a period of three years and was linked with the two-year training period of the teachers for a specific school at the MRC in Zanzibar as well as the year needed to establish a new school. By 2003, 75 madāris in Zanzibar were part of the MRC programme, and 64 additional madāris in both Pemba and Unguja were associated; only a few areas, such as Kizimkazi and Makunduchi, had not yet been reached. Islamic education in revolutionary zanzibar 523

The MRC has to be seen as a major development effort of the AKF to develop a new model for pre-school community institutions of education in Zanzibar. The first MRC was established in Kenya in 1986, while Zanzibar followed in 1990, was registered in 1995 and had 26 contact schools by 1998, as well as 1672 students, 115 teachers in training and 16 associated schools and 125 associated school teachers trained. The programme was initially triggered by Muslims in Kenya who wanted to start a programme of educational development considering the poor standard of education of Muslim children in coastal Kenya. After the first schools had been set up, demand for them spread rather quickly and the AKF agreed to establish an MRC to coordinate and help the development of the different school projects. In this endeavour, the MRC started to develop a new programme for child care and education that was based on ‘what was already known internationally about how children learn, as well as what parents in coastal communities wanted and expected them to learn at that age. Recognizing that children learn best by relating to the environment—exploring, investigating, experimenting, making links and connections, discovering patterns and interacting with others—it was essential to train teachers who would teach effectively and create such supportive learning environments by making low-cost materials that were attractive, interesting to the children and effective as learning tools’. The idea to start an MRC in Zanzibar was developed in the context of a visit by the Aga Khan (IC51 and IC12, 13.3.2003). In the context of that visit, the Aga Khan met Mu allim Bakathir who promised support. As a consequence, the Madrasat al-Nūr was the first school that hoped to get support through this programme; yet, the first MRC was established in Mombasa, while work in Zanzibar started in 1990 only and advanced slowly. Finally, the ‘women took over’ and have remained the vanguard of the MRC. Often, long discussions took place before work started; communities got technical support and teacher training, sometimes financial support as well (up to 600,000 Sh., $1,000 at that time); yet, the MRC schools were essentially responsible for all costs, the maintenance of the schools and teacher training for a two year course. The MRC offered a new concept of education that was a mixture of secular and religious concepts and which included modern pedagogy, not ‘chalk and stick’ methods. The children would then go home and spread their knowledge. Also, 524 chapter nine

children were not beaten and they did not memorize texts any more. The Zanzibari government soon wanted to adopt this programme as a compulsory programme for all Qur ānic schools, and some Members of Parliament even wanted to have MRC schools for their communities. The AKF insisted, however, that such initiatives had to come from the communities on a voluntary basis. In addition, communities had problems with bureaucracy, administration, funds and internal disputes. In order to solve these problems, the MRC offered courses in accountancy and management skills, to be transmitted to the community. In order to support communities, the MRC invited community delegations to the MRC or invited them to visit other communities where the programme was already established. In the meantime, a considerable number of schools had been founded and the MRC started to expand to the mainland, in particular Dar es Salaam and Mwanza, as well as to Mozambique, Nigeria, Ghana, Chad and the Cameroons. By 1994, the MRC finished the assessment process and started to expand the programme that was conceived as a five-year programme in 1995. The aim of the first five-year programme was to establish community schools that were well-managed and financially sustainable and supervised by the MRC in Mombasa, Zanzibar and Kampala. Two-year contractual relationships were started with about 200 local communities, in order to set up communal schools. At the heart of this programme was the MRC itself, primarily and initially a training centre for female teachers and female community workers, but also the centre of coordination and support for all affiliated schools, as well as the centre for syllabus development, the design of teaching material and teacher training models. To assist communities to start community schools, the MRC provided support through its Community Development Officers (CDO) who explained in the villages the aim and terms of partnership under which the MRC pre-school programme could be established in a specific community. This support was granted only when the community agreed to commit itself to the programme, not only in terms of personnel but also in terms of investment and management. Before a contract was signed between an MRC and a village community, the village had to elect a school committee and identify young women who were going to be trained for their work in the school. Also, villages had to find a place for the building and provide the physical structure of the school. Once a contract was signed, the Islamic education in revolutionary zanzibar 525

CDOs trained the members of the school committees to manage finances, to cater for the needs of madrasa teachers and to maintain the school buildings. These efforts often had mobilizing effects on a community and tended to guarantee the stable development of a community school. In addition, the MRC organized a two-year teacher training course for women who had attended school for at least ten years (MRC Project Brief: 6). In addition to educational activities, the MRC experimented with an endowment fund that was supposed to provide supplementary income to support community schools. It proposed communities to establish mini-endowment funds for each school. The annual income from these endowments would supplement the school’s finances and lead to more regular payment of, for instance, teachers’ salaries. Each endowment was supposed to consist of funds raised by the community, matching grants from the MRC and grants awarded to each school as soon as a two-year relationship with an MRC was completed. In that two-year period, the candidate schools and their management committees were expected to demonstrate the ability to maintain both educational quality as well as financial accountability (MRC Project Brief: 7). So far (1998), several hundreds of teachers have been trained at the MRC and 4,800 children have become part of the programme (MRC Project Brief: 8). In 2000, the MRC in Zanzibar produced a madrasa pre-school syllabus that integrated and expanded both the previous 1990 ‘Islamic integrated pre-school syllabus’ and the MRC draft syllabus of 1994. The syllabus sought to develop pre-school education in a holistic way, to allow for the children’s cultural background, and to reinforce their identity and sense of belonging as Zanzibaris and as Muslims, as well as to encourage the involvement of parents in their children’s education (MRC syllabus 2000: 8-9). A prominent feature of the syllabus was the description of the proper environment for learning, the design of learning and playing/activity areas, the outdoor play area and different ways of developing learning and playing materials with simple means. The curriculum was structured in the following way (MRC syllabus 2000: 40): 526 chapter nine

greeting circle time: 15 minutes religion small group time: 20 minutes outdoor: 20 minutes small group time (subject): 30 minutes snack time: 20 minutes planning: 15 minutes work time and tidy up: 45 minutes recall time: 15 minutes small group time (subject): 30 minutes large group time/farewell: 15 minutes total time: 3 hours, 45 minutes.

The MRC syllabus offered ‘Islam’, language and literacy, mathematics, creative arts, health education, social and emotional development, environmental studies, songs, rhythms, qaā id and physical education. ‘Islam’ was of central importance to the syllabus. In fact, the early years of a child were regarded as an important time for the moral and social development of the child. Thus, there was a strong emphasis on akhlāq (ethics) based on the life of the Prophet; lessons that were connected with first efforts at qirā a and lessons in taw īd (aqīda). Children were encouraged to sing qaā id and to develop melody, singing voice and sense of rhythm. As a whole, the syllabus drew from modern Western concepts of early child education, in particular programmes developed and presented by UNICEF, as well as experience gained in early childhood education in Uganda, Kenya and Pakistan (MRC syllabus 2000: 93-95). This syllabus was eventually approved by Hammad Muhammad Kassim, then the Qā ī of Nairobi, Khalfan Mazrui (SUPKEM, Director of Education, Kenya), Ali Shee (Chairman of the National Council of Imams, Kenya), Nassor Nahdi (then the Chief Qā ī of Kenya) and Salim Mohamed (Tutor Islamic Religious Education, Shanzu Teachers College). Considering the fact that the revolutionary government of Zanzibar seems to be more than willing to withdraw from the education sector and to encourage both private and communal investment in education, the MRC concept may indeed develop into a new model for Islamic education in Zanzibar. After looking at a century of Islamic education in Zanzibar, it is safe to conclude that Zanzibar has seen a process of fragmentation of Islamic education into many different models of education, with Islamic education in revolutionary zanzibar 527 different schools and syllabuses. This process of fragmentation has marked the life and legacies of scholars and teachers, in particular in the period since 1964, which was characterized by the efforts of the revolutionary government of Zanzibar to thoroughly transform Zanzibari society and to eradicate all vestiges of the ‘ancien regime’, including well established traditions of Islamic learning. In this process, Zanzibar’s religious scholars who had been able to consolidate their role as mediators of knowledge in the colonial period and to even define the contents of modern Islamic education to a considerable degree, completely lost their role as mediators of knowledge as well as their ‘Deutungshoheit’, their power to define the contents of (Islamic) eduation. In the last and concluding chapter, I will trace major trends of development in Islamic education and show how processes of change have transformed the character of Islamic learning as expressed in a number of different syllabuses. 528 chapter ten Conclusion 529

CHAPTER TEN

CONCLUSION: THE LEGACY OF ISLAMIC EDUCATION IN ZANZIBAR

Islamic education may appear at first glance to be a non-political theme. ‘Islamic’ concepts of education, however, not only reflect Muslim concepts of societal organization but often also transport a critique of existing religio-political structures. Demands for reforms in Islamic education thus form part and parcel of larger strategies of Islamic reform and a Muslim critique of the ‘secular state’, both colonial and post-colonial. Islamic discourses on education are at the same time linked to processes of both westernization and modernization. Discourses on issues of education in Zanzibar, however, show that Muslim scholars lost their hegemony of interpretation or ‘Deutungs hegemonie’, with regard to education in the post-colonial period. The power of definition and providing orientation has increasingly become linked to dialectics of development that are defined by Europe and Northern America and these dialectics of development are essentially secular. The concepts of modern Islamic education as presented in Zanzibar by representatives of Islamic movements of reform, are, at the same time, not necessarily more ‘Islamic’ in character than those of the ‘secular state’. Beyond their ideological (religious) guise, ‘modern Islamic’ concepts of education are indeed closely related to secular, western, colonial and even ‘Christian’ models of education. Local traditions of educational reform in Zanzibar in fact point back to earlier concepts of reform as developed in Hadramaut, while reforms in late 19th century Hadramaut were in turn informed by earlier movements of reform in India and Egypt. These educational reforms were influenced by English concepts of education or had developed in dialectic interaction with British colonialism. The history of the syllabuses of Islamic education in Zanzibar and institutional models thus link Zanzibar not only to Hadramaut, but also to Egypt and India, and ultimately to Europe, in particular Britain. The foundation of the Muslim Academy in Zanzibar in 1952 was directly influenced 530 chapter ten by British experiences with Islamic education in Northern Nigeria, while the Northern Nigerian model, the School of Arabic Studies in Kano (est. 1947), reflected British educational and administrative experiences in the Sudan and India. Modern institutions of Islamic education in the British imperial realm were at the same time characterized by the fact that their exams often concurred with the regulations of the ‘Cambridge Overseas Examination’. Also, the curricula of many ‘Islamic’ institutions of learning such as the Madrasat al-Nūr were identical with the curricula of secular government schools and only the rather recent and, in fact, colonial, discipline of ‘Islamic Religious Instruction’ (IRI) had an Islamic syllabus. This syllabus relied, however, on textbook standards of ‘Islam’, on a fixed time schedule and all the other distinctive features of a (secular) government school which saw education as a way of conveying ‘marketable skills’. Colonial (and post-co lonial) concepts of education were alien to earlier concepts of Islamic education which were based on a personal teacher-disciple relationship and the personal quest for knowledge which understood education as a way to cultivate ‘social skills’. In many respects, the development of modern Islamic education in Zanzibar has to be seen as a special case, however, or at least as an exception to the rule, for, by contrast to other centres of learning on the East African coast, Zanzibar developed as a centre of Islamic learning rather late, namely in the mid-19th century. The development of Islamic education in Zanzibar also underwent a major upheaval in the context of the 1964 revolution. The revolution started a period of anti-Arab and anti-religious policies, in particular during Abeid Amani Karume’s rule between 1964 and 1972, when the revolutionary government tried to eliminate Zanzibar’s Arab legacy and to replace it with the concept of Zanzibar’s Africanité. Arabic and Indian influences were thus regarded as a symbol of the old order that had been supported by the British colonial power (IC77, 23.2.2001). Zanzibar’s Islamic traditions of learning were regarded by the revolution as forming part of an ‘Arab’ legacy which had to go, in particular when, as in the case of the Alawī tradition of learning, this legacy was linked with religious scholars who were seen as a potential threat to the revolution’s hegemony of interpretation. Karume’s assassination on 7 April 1972, and the takeover of power by Aboud Jumbe (1972-1984) did not basically change the revolu- Conclusion 531 tionary convictions of the Zanzibari government and the commitment to Zanzibar’s African national character, yet the anti-religious character of the revolution was gradually revised. As a consequence, Islamic education was revived and the Muslim Academy reopened in 1972 as the Chuo Cha Kiislamu (CCK). The revolutionary government, however, was still committed to its anti-Arab discourse, a policy that was continued by Aboud Jumbe’s successors, Ali Hassan Mwinyi (1984-1985), Abdul Wakil (1985-1990), Salmin Amour (1990-2000) and Amani Abeid Karume (from 2000). As a consequence, the revolutionary government committed itself to a new programme of Islamic education which for some time, after 1972, was based on teachers recruited in Egypt and Sudan. At the CCK these teachers trained Muslim scholars, who were soon to form a new generation of ‘revolutionary’ government scholars. The new scholars, however, did not have the same standards as the old scholars and tended to stress ‘form’ and ritual while abandoning the culture of interpretation. As a result of the withdrawal from this culture and the move towards formal ritual, the practice of the faith became increasingly rigid and ritual increasingly uniform. Equally, speculative discussion was increasingly shunned. The culture of debates of the religious scholars that commanded a great canon of religious disciplines thus came to end with the revolution of 1964. Since then, the ‘essentials’ of Islam have become more central (IC77, 23.2.2001) as expressed, for instance, in the stress on Qur ān, adīth, aqīda and taw īd in the ‘modern Islamic’ syllabuses. At the same time, new international connections with Saudi Arabia, Egypt, Sudan and India/Pakistan have replaced the old ties with Hadramaut and centres of Islamic learning on the East African coast. Through these new poles of orientation, new concepts of education have been introduced and have triggered debates about issues such as the sighting of the moon, the mawlid or the dhikr (IC39, 20.3.2001). Movements of reform have tended, in particular, to stress ‘new’ disciplines of Islamic learning such as taw īd (dogmatic theology) and to deemphasize established disciplines such as fiqh (law). The shift to taw īd or language-connected disciplines such as lugha (language), na w (grammar) or arf (morphology) equally has been a central ‘marker’ of contemporary movements of reform that emphasize, for instance, the importance of adīth (prophetic traditions) against law (fiqh). In their writings, reformers such as al-Amīn b. 532 chapter ten

Alī al-Mazrū ī have pointed out the importance of taw īd and adīth, as well as language-related disciplines. The emphasis on ‘new disciplines’ was connected with the fact that any movement of reform that stresses the importance of the sources of the faith as well as the example of the Prophet for the construction of a new ‘Islamic’ society or a new model of Islamic education, has to deemphasize disciplines that rely on post-prophetic developments in Islam, such as fiqh or, of course, taawwuf (Sufism). In addition, the religious discourse of the reformers has stressed the struggle against other seemingly ‘secondary’ disciplines, such as falsafa (philosophy) or ilm al-falak (astronomy, astrology) and practices of divination, such as numerology, that were depicted as pure superstition or manifestations of (un- Islamic) saint-veneration. Reformers have tended to also attack the authority of the established scholars and their role as mediators and interpreters as a feature of pure legalism and blind imitation (taqlīd). In order to overcome taqlīd, reformers have stressed the primordial role of the Qur ān as well as of the religious foundations of Islam as expounded in taw īd, while the stress on language-related disciplines was connected with the conviction that a good mastery of Arabic would enable any Muslim to study the sources of the faith without a learned mediator. The established tarbiya concept of Islamic education implied a ‘spiral’ approach to knowledge understood as talīm and the acquisition of social skills, as symbolized in the alqa (circle) of students around their teacher-master, and which accepted the polyvocality of interpretations of texts. As a consequence of several turns in the development of Islamic education in Zanzibar in the 20th century, this concept was gradually abandoned from the 1920s and replaced by ‘Islamic Religious Instruction’ (IRI) or the ‘diāna’ model of Islamic education. This implied a linear approach to knowledge, understood as ‘marketable skills’, and has come to be symbolized by rows of seats in the classroom. Equally, the shift from tarbiya to diāna came to mean a shift from a master-teacher to a state-employed pedagogue, from the lau (ubao) to the blackboard, from individual rhythms of learning to a synchronized rhythm, from the memorization of a corpus of texts to the memorization of schoolbook wisdom, from the ijāza to the final examination and degree. These changes, as well as changes in the political set-up of Zanzibar in the 20th century, are clearly reflected in the eleven different syl- Conclusion 533 labuses that have been presented in the preceding chapters:1 The 1916 syllabus (I) of the Madrasat al-Mu ammadieh (see chapter 5, p. 234), probably the first ‘Islamic’ syllabus in Zanzibar, which followed the new temporal regime of the government schools, although the Madrasat al-Mu ammadieh was a private, ‘Indian’ school, largely focused on Arabic (and Gujarati) as well as the memorization of the Qur ān in a three-year curriculum that did not go beyond the 17th juz (sūrat al- ajj). The first government school IRI syllabusII ( ) of 1921 (see chapter 6, p. 298) largely focused on Arabic, writing and memorization of the Qur ān, although in the first of four years only about three lines of the Qur ān in Arabic had to be learned per day. The purpose of this rudimentary syllabus in the diānāt was to enable students to recite a certain amount of the Qur ān and to understand the ritual. In the context of the revision of the 1921 syllabus in 1924, the teaching of the Qur ān was restructured by introducing a collection of selected verses, the Aya Zilizochaguliwa that had been translated from Arabic into Kiswahili by Amad b. Sumay. Also, some new teaching matter, namely basic notions of aqīda and taw īd, were incorporated into the syllabus by way of a Hadrami textbook, the risālat al-jāmia. Despite the cooperation of some religious scholars in the revision of the 1921 syllabus, the 1924 revision of the ‘Islamics’ syllabus was not acceptable for a majority of Muslims in Zanzibar, and was thus replaced by a second government school syllabus in 1931. The 1931 IRI syllabus (III), which had the consent of several religious scholars (see chapter 6, p. 314-5), focused largely on the reading and memorization of the Qur ān, although in six primary school years only the juz amma (sūra 1 as well as sūras 114-78) was read, while memorization did not go beyond sūrat al-alā (87). At the same time, the 1931 syllabus provided for some basic teaching in reading and writing, aqīda, some notions of the ibādāt and some grammar. By contrast, the 1945 IRI syllabus (IV) for primary school education (six years), which had been largely written by Zanzibari religious scholars, was much more encompassing (see chapter 6, p. 325-6): the juz amma was read and memorized in the first year, and the rest of the Qur ān in the following five years. Equally, the number of disci-

1 The syllabuses of the Madrasa Resource Center and the College of Education have not been taken into account here. 534 chapter ten plines of learning grew: sīra took a major part, as did the history of the Prophets and the presentation of the ‘Islamic year’. The students also memorized the mawlid Barzanjī, had intensive reading and writing practice (with the biaqāt arabiyya) in Arabic as well as Kiswahili in Arabic script, studied the basic rules of tajwīd and covered the ibādāt. The textbooks were produced either locally or represented the established texts of the Alawī tradition of learning. Thediāna syllabus (V) of the Teacher Training College (TTC) in 1960 (see chapter 6, p. 333-4) was rather specific as it provided the basis for the teachers themselves and was essentially based on the 1956 syllabus of the Muslim Academy (see below). The TTC had a strong focus on Islamic law, the teaching of the diānāt, Arabic, tajwīd and mawlid. The 1956 IRI syllabus (VI) for secondary school education (see chapter 8, p. 424-6) as developed at the Muslim Academy then went much further than all previous syllabuses in a period of five school years: tajwīd, ibādāt, but also muāmalāt formed a major part of the syllabus, which had a strong focus on fiqh as well as uūl al-fiqh. Equally, Arabic grammar was studied in detail, including na w, balāgha and arf. History included the sīra of the Prophet and the lives of the other prophets. Also, new disciplines were introduced: tafsīr, adīth, with a focus on techniques of adīth and the ilm al-rijāl (transmitters of adīth), adab (literature), taw īd and taawwuf, as well as Islamic philosophy. The new and preliminarydiāna syllabus for the Chuo Cha Kiislamu of 1972 (VII), by contrast, was rather rudimentary again (see chapter 8, p. 443) and essentially focused on some Qur ān, tajwīd, basic notions of the ibādāt and muāmalāt as well as history. The increasing focus on theibādāt , in particular the different prayers, as well as aqīda and basic taw īd was a major feature of the 1976 IRI syllabus (VIII) for both primary and secondary schools as developed by the CCK for a period of thirteen school years (see chapter 8, p. 445-9). The 1976 syllabus was not only quite detailed again but also introduced a distinct shift from fiqh, which was largely reduced to the ibādāt and the arkān al-dīn (pillars of religion), in particular the ajj, to adith, which became the most prominent discipline in every school year. Some notions of the muāmalāt were taught from form ten only, and the only other aspects of fiqh that were taught as part of the syllabus were some add regulations. Conclusion 535

‘Rules’, in fact, marked the syllabus. By contrast to the pre-revolutionary syllabus for primary schools, the study of the Qur ān had become shorter and did not go beyond sūra 29 (sūrat al-ankabūt), a section of the 20th juz , for the whole period of thirteen years, while memorization of the Qur ān stopped at sūra 67 (sūrat al-mulk), a section of the 29th juz , a stage that had been reached in the 1945 syllabus by the second primary school year. In addition, some selected sūras were memorized, namely sūras 62 (al-juma), 59 (al- ashr), 49 (al- ujurat), 47 (Mu ammad) and 24 (al-nūr). Otherwise, the 1976 syllabus brought a shift in adab which was now understood to teach akhlāq (good manners), not literature. A major focus was on sīra and history. With respect to history, the scope had become larger but history was presented essentially in terms of political history and acquired a decisively ‘revolutionary’ notion in form thirteen. The IRI syllabus of the CCK of 2001 (IX) was again not only much reduced in terms of time but also rather narrow in scope, had a strong emphasis on language, and some taw īd, tajwīd and tafsīr, but focused otherwise on sīra, adīth and the ibādāt (see chapter 8, p. 453-4). The strong emphasis on adīth, aqīda and the ibādāt was retained in the 2000 IRI syllabus for secondary schools (X), which was intended to cover a period of four years (see chapter 9, p. 500-1). In this syllabus, fiqh was reduced, except for the ibādāt, to some notions of the muāmalāt, in particular divorce, as well as the technical organization of Islamic law. The memorization of adīth replaced the focus on the Qur ān, which was not memorized any more, but ‘explained’ by means of adīth. The strong focus on political history was another major feature of this syllabus. Other disciplines, such as taawwuf, mawlid, philosophy and tajdīd, and also a number of language-related disciplines, which had still figured prominently in the 1945 general syllabus and the 1956 Muslim Academy syllabus, had disappeared completely. The shift in educational orientation was also clear in the 2002 IRI syllabus (XI) of the Madrasat al-Nūr (see chapter 9, p. 518-21). However, the syllabus of the Madrasat al-Nūr preserved a strong focus on the Qur ān, which was read and memorized, although memorization did not go beyond sūrat al-mursalāt (77) and thus the juz amma, as well as the first sūra of the 29th juz . The study of the Qur ān was complemented by tafsīr and the techniques of tajwīd. In the hierarchy of disciplines, adīth followed next, in particular as far 536 chapter ten as the teaching of the ibādāt was concerned. The ibādāt also formed a major focus in fiqh which concentrated otherwise on the rules of marriage and divorce (fiqh al-zawāj), as well as inheritance, all based on textbooks from Saudi Arabia. Egyptian and Saudi Arabian textbooks also dominated the teaching of lugha, reading, writing, na w and arf, as well as taw īd. The syllabus of the Madrasat al-Nūr finally covered sīra and early Islamic history as well as akhlāq. With the transformation of the ‘Islamics’ syllabuses in Zanzibar, the temporal framework for teaching Arabic and ‘Islamics’ (diānāt) changed as well. The 1921 government school syllabus provided, for a period of four elementary school years, 44 ‘hours’ (teaching periods) for the diānāt (Qur ān, Arabic, ‘Islam’, calligraphy and translation) or an average of 11 weekly ‘teaching hours’ in each school year, while the 1931 syllabus increased this number to 50 teaching periods in four school years. The 1945 syllabus then provided 66 periods for the teaching of the diānāt in six school years, still an average of 11 ‘hours’ per week in each school year. This temporal share was extended to 96 periods for the teaching of the diānāt in boys’ classes (66 periods in the girls’ classes) in eight schools year in 1960 or an average of 12 (8) teaching ‘hours’ per week in each school year. After the revolution, the teaching of the diānāt was stopped completely, and was resumed only in 1972 at the CCK. From 1976, diānāt was taught again at government schools, but its time slot was reduced to two teaching periods per week in government primary and secondary schools or a total number of 26 teaching periods only in thirteen school years. At the CCK, the diānāt claimed a total of 114 teaching periods in six secondary school years from 1978, oscillating between 15 and 29 teaching periods per week in the different school years, for the teaching of Arabic and the diānāt. In recent years, the number of periods for the diānāt has been reduced again to six periods per week. At the same time, the length of teaching periods at Zanzibar’s schools has been cut down from a 50 minute ‘hour’ (1921) to a 40 minute ‘hour’ (since 1931) to 35 minutes today (2007), due to the need to accommodate two shifts of students in morning and afternoon classes in the same school buildings. The amount of time reserved for the teaching of diānāt at the CCK has thus decreased when compared with pre-revolutionary times (1960), while the teaching of diānāt at government schools has been reduced drastically to one fifth or one sixth of the time allotted to the diānāt in 1960. Conclusion 537

The teaching of ‘Islam’ which used to be conceived of as an ‘ocean of learning’ has thus been transformed in the 20th century into a discipline called ‘Islamic Religious Instruction’ (IRI). On the way, the polyvocal reading of texts was abandoned and replaced by textbook definitions of ‘Islam’. This process has supported the emergence and success of rather narrow definitions of the faith, as defined by a series of colonial and post-colonial administrations. The ‘colonial’ diāna model of Islamic education may have been instrumental in saving ‘Islamics’ in times when ‘marketable skills’ rule supreme. Yet, the ‘reproduction’ of a class of religious scholars who were ‘at home’ in a multitude of Islamic traditions of learning and interpretations of meaning was interrupted by the revolution. The revolution most importantly reduced the number of religious mediators by forcing religious scholars of Omani, Hadrami, Indian and Comorian extraction into emigration and by marginalizing remaining traditions of learning. As a consequence, a uniform and state-informed interpretation of ‘Islam’ was transmitted by a new generation of Muslim bureaucrats who have tended to oppose or ignore the polyvocality of interpretations. ‘Islam’ has been increasingly taught as a subject limited by curricular constraints, while religious scholars who would have been able to mediate a deeper meaning of the faith and its basic texts have died or left Zanzibar. ‘Didactic’ and ‘easy’ textbook readings of ‘Islam’ and specific disciplines as presented by Muslim functionaries are increasingly viewed as the one and only ‘truth’, the one and only way to understand and live ‘Islam’. Muslim scholars have thus lost their ‘Deutungshoheit’, their ‘power to define’ Islamic education to Muslim bureaucrats and the revolutionary government of Zanzibar. The closure of the CCK in 2007 can be seen as the ultimate signal for the demise of Islamic education in Zanzibar in the post- revolutionary era. The closure of the CCK also confirms the marginalization of Zanzibar’s religious scholars in contemporary Zanzibar. Their place in Zanzibar’s institutions has been taken by Muslim functionaries employed by the revolutionary government of Zanzibar. The demise of the ulamā has created, however, an ‘ethical void’, which has not been filled by Muslim functionaries. Rather, the activist and oppositional Anār al-Sunna have managed to speak out against the political instrumentalization of Islam by the revolutionary government and to present themselves as the ‘true’ spokesmen of Islam. Time will show whether the Anār al-Sunna will also be able to establish their say in Islamic education. 538 chapter ten zanzibar’s census data 539

APPENDIX

I. Zanzibar’s Census Data

Despite a first census in 1910, a larger quantity of data was available only from 1921 (see ZNA AB 33/3, Census 1924). These numbers were still only estimations regarding the different populations of Zanzibar. In 1910, Zanzibar thus had a non-indigenous population of 8.987 (7750 on Unguja, 1237 on Pemba; 121 British, 8.050), while respective numbers were 14.132 in 1921 (13083 in Unguja, 1042 in Pemba; 222 British, 12.588 British Indians) (ZNA AB 33/3). The first complete census was carried out in 1924, followed by a second in 1931. According to these data, Zanzibar Town had, in 1910, 35.362 inhabitants, while the city population had grown to 38.713 in 1924. The ‘native’ population was 106.313 in 1910 for Unguja and 81.893 for Pemba, while the respective numbers were 115.016 for Unguja and 87.649 for Pemba in 1924. According to ethnic categories, Unguja (Pemba) had 5.797 Arabs (10.681), 14.806 Swahili (19.138), 16.454 Hadimu (598), 21.288 Tumbatu (5.094), 13.602 Shirazi (18.828), 143 Pemba (12.496), 2.092 Shihiri (314), 2.244 Comorians (262), 6.547 Nyasa (4.023), 4.447 Yao (2.176), 4.137 Nyamwesi (4.166), 3.934 Manyema (1.879) and 3.493 Zaramo (2.673), as well as 431 Kikuyu (678) and 15.597 other Africans (10.643). The 1931 annual report (ZNA BA 5/3) registered a population of 278 Europeans as well as c. 22.000 Arabs, 15.246 Indians and c. 200.000 Africans. By 1937 (ZNA BA 5/11), Zanzibar’s population had grown to 185.000 Africans, 33.000 Arabs, 15.000 Indians and 200-250 Europeans. 65.000 Africans were mainlanders and 3.000 came from the Comoros; Zanzibar Town had a population of 45.000, among them 11.000 Indians. In 1948 44.560 persons classified themselves as Arab, and 15.211 were classified as Asians, whereas 199.860 were counted as Africans, although only 2.331 households (of a total number of 96.483 in Unguja and Pemba) actually spoke Arabic as a mother tongue. In 1948, Zanzibar was also home to 3.267 Comorians, 681 Goans, 296 Europeans and 287 ‘others’ (Mapuri 1996: 91). By 1958, Zanzibar was home to 18.334 Indians (‘Asians’) and 540 appendix

279.935 ‘Africans’ (Martin 1978: 49). The ‘Report on the Census of the Population of Zanzibar’ (ZNA BA 34/7) of 20 March 1958 differentiated the population into categories A (Afro-Arabian, i.e. Swahili, Wapemba, Watumbatu, Wahadimu, Zanzibari, Shirazi), B (Arabs), C (Mainland Africans), D (Comorians), E (Asian), F (Europeans) and G (Somali and others). According to these categories A, B C and D did have a total number of 279.935 persons, E 18.334, F 507 and G 335 persons, and, thus, 299.111 inhabitants for Zanzibar (165.253 for Unguja, 133.858 for Pemba). Zanzibar Town had a population of 58.000. In religious terms there were 250.627 Muslims, 5.512 Christians, 4.099 Hindus, 148 Jain, 30 Sikhs, 241 Parsees, 49 Buddhists, 15 Confucians, 5 Jews, 1.753 ‘Heathen’ and 1.683 ‘unknown’. 95% of Zanzibar´s popularion were Muslims, thus, in Pemba even 98%. 98% of the African Muslim population was Shā fi ī, whereas only 56% of the ‘Arab’ population was affiliated with the Shāfi ī school of law, 43% were Ibā ī. Pemba even had an Ibā ī majority among the Arabs. ‘Indian’ Muslims were divided into 28% Sunnī anafī as well as 12% Ismā īlī Khoja. According to the same report, the African immigrant population consisted of 51.277 ‘mainlanders’: Wanyamwesi (8.253), Wazaramo (5.410), Wanyasa (5.238), Mahiyai (3.859), Wamakonde (2.625), Wamanyema (2.202) and Wadengereko (2.138) (also annual report 1936, PRO CO 688/13). According to the 1967, 1978, 1988 and 2002 censi, Zanzibar’s population grew to almost one million in 2002 (ZNA BA 34/9; ZNA BD 3/10, whereas Tanzania stood at 34.569.000), i.e. 400 persons per sqkm on 2.644 sqkm. According to regions, Pemba North (574 sqkm, 324 inhabitants per sqkm) had 186.013 inhabitants, Pemba South (332 sqkm/531) 176.153, Unguja North (470 sqkm/291) 136.953, Unguja South (854sqkm/111) 94.504 and Urban/West (230 sqkm/1700) 391.002. Zanzibar Town had grown to more than 200.000 inhabitants, but with the densely populated sub-urban areas in the north, east and south such as Bububu, Mtoni, Chuini, Fuoni, Kiembe Samaki or Mwanakwerekwe, the Zanzibar Town Metropolitan Area had about 350.000 inhabitants (Census 2002). The following chart provides an overview for the period from 1910 to 2002: governments and administrations 541

year total Zanzibar Unguja Pemba Unguja: annual population Town Pemba growth 1910 197.000 35.000 114.000 83.000 6:4 - 1924 217.000 38.000 128.000 89.000 6:4 - 1931 237.000 45.000 - - - 1948 262.000 - -- - 1958 299.000 58.000 165.253 133.858 5,5:4,5 1,9% 1967 354.000 - -- 2,3% 1978 476.000 110.506 - - 3,0% 1988 640.578 157.634 - - 3,0% 2002 984.620 206.292 622.454 362166 6,5:3,5 3,3%

II. Governments and Administrations of Zanzibar a. The Sultans of Zanzibar: c. The British Residents in Zanzibar (Colonial Office): 1806-1856: Sa īd b. Sulān 1856-1870: Mājid b. Sa īd 1913-1922: Major F.B. Pearce 1870-1888: Barghash b. Sa īd 1922-1924: J. S. Sinclair 1888-1890: Khalīfa b. Sa īd 1924-1930: Sir Claud Hollis 1890-1893: Alī b. Sa īd 1930-1937: Sir Richard Rankine 1893-1896: amad b. Thwaynī 1937-1941: Sir John Hathorn Hall 1896: Khālid b. Barghash 1941-1946: Sir Guy Pilling 1896-1902: amad b. Muammad 1946-1952: Sir Vincent Glenday 1902-1911: Alī b. amūd 1952-1954: Sir John Rankine 1911-1960: Khalīfa b. ārub 1954-1959: Sir Henry Steven Porter 1960-1963: Abdallāh b. Khalīfa 1959-1963: Sir George Mooring 1963-1964: Jamshīd b. Abdallāh d. The Directors of Education: b. The British Consuls General in (source: Annual Reports, personal files; Zanzibar (Foreign Office): al-Farsy 1955) 1873-1887: Sir John Kirk 1907-1920: S. Rivers-Smith. 1887-1888: Sir Claude MacDonald 1921-1939: W. Hendry (W.H. Ingrams 1889-1891: Colonel Sir Charles Euan ADoE in 1924; G.B. Johnson ADoE in Smith 1920, 1923, 1930, 1932 and 1935/1936 1891-1892: Sir Gerald Portal as well as 1938/39), his active service 1892-1894: Sir Renell Rodd was 23.12.1920-1937. 1894-1900: Sir Arthur Hardinge 1939-1943: R. S. Foster (G.B. 1900-1904: Sir Charles Eliot Johnson ADoE in 1939) (27.12.1939-29.4.1943). 1904-1908: Basil S. Cave (mid) 1943: L.W. Hollingsworth 1909-1913: Edward Clarke (ADoE). 1943: G.C. Grant (AdoE). 1943-1944: P.E. Williams (1.8.1943-August 1944). 542 appendix

1944-1948: R.J. Harvey (5.11.1944-July Muhammad Sulaiman b. Said (b. 1876, 1948). a. 1922) 1948: G.C. Grant (ADoE, August. Salim Isa b. Ali (b. 1901, a. 1921) December 1948). Sulaiman b. Ameir (b. 1893, a. 1921) 1949-1950: K.B. Hill Masoud Borafia (b. 1903, a. 1922) (1.1.1949-7.12.1950). Mtwana Juma (b. 1904, a. 1921) 1951-1953: B. A. Babb (1.4.1951-26.4.1953, with Hann as as well as four technical teachers: ADoE in 1950/51, 1953). Zahran Haji (b. 1893, a. 1918) 1953-1956: R.B. Blaxland Musa Ahmad (b. 1894, a. 1917) (8.10.1953-5.2.1956, with S.F. Hann Muhammad Ahmed (b. 1899, a. 1921) as ADoE in 1954). Simon Mwenda (a. 1921) 1956-1963: S.F. Hann (AdoE in 1950/51, (source: ZNA BA 82/4) 1953, 1954, 1955; DoE 5.8.1956-1964; Webber and Greig ADoE). f. The Shāfiī Chief Qādīs and Qādīs of Zanzibar in the 20th century: e. The non-European staff in the Department of Education (January 1. Burhān b. Abd al- Azīz al-Amawī 1923) (Chief Qādī, 1890-1931/2) 2. Amad b. Sumay (Chief Qādī, Abd al-Bari (born 1878, appointed 1907-1925) 1 May 1905): 3. āhir b. Abī Bakr al-Amawī (Chief Jafferali Ashkali G. Haji (born 1895, Qādī, 1925-38) a. 1922) 4. Umar b. Sumay (Chief Qādī, Abdullah Muhammad al-Hadhrami 1945-1959) (b. 1894, a. 1921) 5. Abdallāh āli al-Farsy (Qādī, Abdullah Ahmed Seif (b. 1901, a. 1921) 1960-1967) Wali Vellani (b. 1905, a. 1922) 6. Fatawi Issa (Chief Qādī, 1964-1974) Abu l-Hasan b. Ahmad (b. 1887, a. 1921) 7. Habib Ali Kombo (Chief Qādī, Henry Nasibu (b. 1867, a. 1912) 1974-1985) Burhan Muhammad Mkelle (b. 1883, a. 8. Ameir Tajo ‘Kubwa’(the ‘elder’, Chief 1908) Qādī, 1985-1992) Muhammad Said Shangama (b. 1894, a. 9. Musa Makungu (Chief Qādī, 1916) 1992-2006) Rajab Himid Abdallah (b. 1903, a. 1919) 10. Ali Khatib Mranzi (Qādī, since 1992; Muhammad Sulaiman Mbaruk (b. 1896, Chief Qādī, 2006-2008) a. 1920) This list considers only the Chief Qādīs Said Bwana Said (b. 1905, a. 1922) and the Qādīs at the Supreme Court in Aboud Ebeid al-Haj (b. 1904, a. 1921) Zanzibar. The Qādīs for the nine district Sultan Khamis Muhammad (b. 1907, a. courts, six in Unguja, three in Pemba, 1921) are not considered. Abd al-Hamid Mansab (b. 1901, a. 1921) Abdallah Muhammad al-Ghassany g. Zanzibar’s students at Makerere from (b. 1879, a. 1908) 1929 to the early 1950s Othman Mohammed (b. 1887, a. 1909) Abd al-Rahman Muhammad (b. 1892, 1. Said Bingurnah Mahfuz, b. 1909, at a. 1918) Makerere from 1929-34, medicine. Abdullah Farhan (b. 1900, a. 1921) 2. Said bin Aboud, b. 1907, 1930-34, Muhanna Nassor (b. 1898, a. 1921) TTC Zanzibar, medicine. Muhammad Abubakar (b. 1902, a. 1922) 3. Ali Khamis, b. 1914, 1936-41, agri- Salim Khamis Muhammad (b. 1904, culture. a. 1922) 4. Othman Sharif, b. 1916, 1936-42, medicine. governments and administrations 543

5. Muhsin Ali Barwani, b. 1919, 32. M.S. Barwani, b. 1924, 1947-50, 1937-41, agriculture. medicine. 6. Ahmad Rashid, 1937-41, veterinary 33. A.M. Abdulrahman, b. 1927, school. 1947-50, education. 7. Muhammad Ramadhani, 1939-47, 34. S.H. Mauly, b. 1921, 1947-49, education. administration. 8. A.A. Wadud, b. 1920, 1940-44, 35. H.M. Yafiy, b. 1926, 1947-51, medi- agriculture. cine. 9. Muhammad Nassor, b. 1919, 36. A.S. Yahya, b. 1931, 1949-51, educa- 1940-42, engineering. tion. 10. S. Kharusi, 1940, agriculture. 37. S.A. Wazir, b. 1914, 1949-51, arts, 11. M. A. Awadh, b. 1920, 1940-44, education. medicine. 38. A. Wakil Idrissa, b. 1928, 1949-51, 12. Umar Abdallah, b. 1919, 1940-42, education. education. 39. Ihaya H. Yahya, b. 1933, 1949-51, 13. M. A. Ghassany, b. 1916, 1941-45, adult course. agriculture. 40. I.A. Farhan, b. 1929, 1949-50, arts. 14. K. Hassan, b. 1921, 1941-46, medi- 41. S.F. Jabir, b. 1930, 1950-, medicine. cine. 42. A. Juma Aley, b. 1932, 1950-51, 15. A.M. Khahoo, 1941-43, teacher preliminary science. training course. 43. Bashir ud-Din, 1951, medicine. 16. Zubayr Rijal, 1942-44, education. 44. M.S. al-Bualy, b. 1931, 1951, pre- 17. Aboud Jumbe Mwinyi, b. 1920, liminary science. 1943-45, education. 45. A.S. Yahya, b. 1933, 1951-, educa- 18. A.A. Jahadmi, b. 1923, 1943-45, tion. agriculture. 46. Assiah Jabir, b. 1928, 1951-52, gen- 19. R.A. Himid, b. 1921, 1943-45, Eng- eral course education. lish, education. 47. S.S. Malik, b. 1931, 1951-52, pre- 20. A.B. Busaidi, b. 1921, 1943-50, liminary science. medicine. 48. Zuwena Abdulla, b. 1933, 1951-, 21. A.M. Barwani, b. 1921, 1943-44, arts. preliminary science education. 49. M.A.A. Mjeni, b. 1934, 1953-54, 22. S.H. Mawly, b. 1930, 1944-49, agri- private student. culture. 50. K.H. Ameir, b. 1932, 1953-, arts. 23. M.S. Mughairy, b. 1924, 1944-53, 51. M.K. Abdulla, b. 1934, 1953-, arts. medicine. 52. Abdulrahman M. Rashid, b. 1932, 24. Abdulghany Himid Yahya, b. 1924, 1953-, political science. 1944-46, education. 25. Abdallah Farhan, b. 1900, 1945-46, h. The government of Zanzibar 1961-63: art teaching course. 26. A.M.M. Burhan, b. 1924, 1945-48, Muammad Shamte (Chief Minister) education. Ali Muhsin Barwani (Minister of Educa- 27. A.A.E. Baalawy, b. 1925, 1945-48, tion) medicine. Juma Aley (Minister of Agriculture) 28. M.M. Abdulla, b. 1922, 1945-48, Abd al-Rahman Aydarus al-Baalawi education. (Minister of Health) 29. M.S. al-Farsy, b. 1925, 1946-48, education. i. The government of the Sultanate of 30. M.A. Shatry, b. 1925, 1946-50, Zanzibar 1963/4: chemistry. 31. M. Esha Shariff, b. 1917, 1947-48, Muhammad Shamte (Prime Minister) adult course. Ali Muhsin Barwani (Minister for Exter- nal Affairs) 544 appendix

Juma Aley Juma al-Abrawi (Minister for Edington Kisasi (Commissioner of Finance and Development) Police) Salim Kombo Saleh (Minister for Home (source: Clayton 1981: 91). and Legal Affairs) Abd al-Rahman Aydarus al-Baalawy l. The Revolutionary Council of (Minister for Health and Welfare, 24 January 1964: Communications and Works) Maulidi Mshangana (Minister for Edu- 1. Abeid Amani Karume (Chairman), cation and Information) 2. A. K. Hanga, 3. A.M. Babu, 4. Hasnu Abadhar Juma Khatib (Minister for Makame Mwita, 5. Salehe Saadalla Agriculture) Akida, 6. Aboud Jumbe Mwinyi, 7. Oth- Ibuni Saleh Mohamed (Minister without man Shariff Mussa, 8. Idris Abdul Wakil. Portfolio) 9. Abdulaziz Ali Twala, 10. Hassan Rashid Hamadi (Assistant Minister) Nassor Moyo, 11. Seif Bakari Omar, 12. Amirali Abdulrasul (Assistant Minister Ramadhan Haji Faki, 13. Abdallah Said to the Prime Minister) Natepe, 14. Said Iddi Bavuai, 15. Said (source: Clayton 1981: 62; Central Office Washoto, 16. Yusuf Himid, 17. Moham- of Information). med A. Ameir, 18. Pili Khamis, 19. Muhammad Mfaume Umar, 20. Hafidh j. The ‘Committee of 14’ in the first days Sulaiman Almas, 21. Khamis Hemed of the revolution: Nyuni, 22. Muhammad Mfaranyaki, 23. Hamid Ameir, 24. Khamis Daru- John Okello, Seif Bakari, Yusuf Himid, wesh, 25. Muhammad Juma Pindua, 26. Abdallah Said Natepe, Muhammad Ab- Khamis Abdullah Ameir, 27. Edington dallah Mfaranyaki, Ramadhan Haji, Said Kisasi, 28. Daudi Mahmoud Jecha, 29. Idi Bavuai, Said Washoto, Muhammad Muhsin b. Ali, 30. John Okello (source: Abdallah Ameir Kaujore, Pili Khamis, Mapuri 1996: 56). Khamis Darwesh, Khamis Hemed, Hafiz Sulaiman and Hamid Ameir (Burgess 1999: 34; Clayton 1981: 54; Mrina/Mat- m. The Ministers of Education since toke 1980: 94). 1961: 1. Ali Muhsin al-Barwani (1961-63) k. The first government of revolutionary 2. Maulid Mshangana el-Haj (1963/4) Zanzibar of 24. January 1964: 3. Othman Sharif Musa (January-April Abeid Amani Karume (President) 1964) A. Kassim Hanga (Vice-President) 4. Idrissa Abdul Wakil (April 1964-De- A.M. Babu (Minister of External Affairs) cember 1964) Hasnu Makame (Minister for Finance 5. Ali Sultan Issa (December and Development) 1964-1968) Aboud Jumbe (Minister of Health and 6. Hassan Nassor Moyo (1968-77) Welfare) 7. Seif Shariff Hamad (1977-81) Saleh Saadalla (Minister of Agriculture) 8. Masoud Omar Said (1981-83) Idris Abdul Wakil (Minister of Commu- 9. Omar Hamadi Hassan (1983-85) nication and Works) 10. Soud Yussuf Mgeni (1985-86) Othman Sharif (Minister of Education 11. Omar Ramadhan Mapuri (1986-89) and National Culture) 12. Muhammad M.H. Mzale (1989-92) Abdul Aziz Twala (Junior Minister in the 13. Omar Ramadhan Mapuri President’s Office) (1992-2001) Hassan Nassor Moyo (Junior Minister 14. Haroun A. Sulaiman (since 2001) for Communication and Works) elections in 1961, 1963, 1995 and 2000 545

III. Zanzibar’s elections 1961, 1963, 1995 and 2000

a. Zanzibar’s Elections 1961 and 1963, seats party July 1957 January 1961 June 1961 July 1963 ASU/ASP 3 10 10 13 ZNP 0 9 10 12 ZPPP 0 3 3 6 Muslim Assoc. 1 0 0 0 Shirazi Independ. 2 0 0 0

b. Election Results 1961 and 1963 in Absolute Numbers party January 1961 (%) June 1961 (%) July 1963 (%) ASP 36.698 (43.5) 45.172 (50.5) 87.085 (54) ZNP 32.724 (38.5) 31.681 (35.5) 47.950 (30) ZPPP 15.541 (18) 12.411 (14) 25.609 (16)

c. Zanzibar’s Elections 1963 and 1995: Unguja and Pemba Compared

1963 1995 Unguja population 168.000 504.000 Pemba population 152.000 296.000 Unguja electorate in % 52% 63% Pemba electorate in % 48% 37% Zanzibar population 320.000 c. 800.000 Zanzibar vote ASP/CCM 54% 50% Unguja vote ASP/CCM 62% 62% Pemba vote ASP/CCM 43% 17% Z´bar vote ZNP/ZPPP/CUF 46% 50% Unguja vote ZNP/ZPPP/CUF 36% 31% Pemba vote ZNP/ZPPP/CUF 54% 83% 546 appendix

d. The Elections in Zanzibar 1995 and 2000 (ZEC)

CCM CUF 1995 165.271 163.706 % (seats) 50.2% (26) 49.8% (24) 2000 - - % (seats) 67% (33) 33% (17) 2005

Sources: Bakari 2001, Hirschler 2001, Lodhi 1986, Sheriff 2001

IV. School Development Statistics

a. The Bateson Report on Qur ānic Literacy Valuable data on Zanzibar’s educational system were reproduced in a comprehensive social survey of Zanzibar’s population, the ‘Bateson report’ (ZNA BA 28/1-27). The survey was executed between 1948 and 1949. Three files, religions (3), schooling (10) and Qur ānic schools (11) refer to education. The report on religion (ZNA BA 28/3) only repeats that Zanzibar had, in the late 1940s, a population of 97% Muslims, 1% Hindus and 1% Christians. The volume on schooling (ZNA BA 28/10) reproduces school attendance numbers according to ‘ethnic’ criteria in different types of schools (Qs = qur ānic schools; gs = government schools):

1. Zanzibar (Town)

school Indigenous Mainlander Arabs Indians Comorians total Africans Qs 1230 1830 1920 550 490 5950 Gs 780 1190 1480 1730 770 6020 total pop. 5840 12600 7000 12870 2640 40950

2. Zanzibar (Rural Districts)

school Indigenous Mainlander Arabs Indians Comorians total Africans Qs 17300 4000 2900 300 100 24600 Gs 2900 1100 1000 - - 5000 total pop. 74900 25400 6800 800 400 108300 school development statistics 547

3. Pemba Island

school Indigenous Mainlander Arabs Indians Comorians total Africans Qs 10820 2425 7520 440 205 21410 Gs 1450 710 1890 160 45 4255 total pop. 49965 16330 30805 2220 575 115300

4. Total Protectorate

school Indigenous Mainlander Arabs Indians Comorians total Africans Qs 29350 8255 12340 1290 795 52030 Gs 5130 3000 4370 1890 815 15205 total pop. 142975 57465 44605 15890 3615 264550

Volume 11 of the report (‘schooling in Qur ānic schools’; ZNA BA 28/11) provides detailed information on the level of mastery of the Qur ān in Qur ānic schools. According to the Bateson report, c. 52.000 persons had attended Qur ānic school at the time of the survey and at least 50% of all Qur ānic school students (boys and girls) had mastered the whole or nearly the whole of the Qur ān. The following charts provide an overview over the number of juz mastered in different types of school, although some details have been omitted such as the data recording ‘no schooling’, or ‘attainment not specified in number of juz ’ or ‘attainment not specified’:

1. Zanzibar Town

number of Indigenous Mainlander Arabs Indians Comorians total juz Africans less than 6 450 610 350 20 90 720 6-10 10 70 60 20 - 180 11-15 30 80 10 30 20 150 16-20 - 60 20 10 - 90 21-25 - 30 - - - 30 36-30 700 760 1330 240 330 3360 all students in 1230 1830 1920 550 490 6020 qs population 5840 12600 7000 12870 2640 40950 548 appendix

2. Zanzibar Rural number of juz Indigenous Mainlander Arabs Indians Comorians total Africans 0-6 4900 1400 500 300 100 7200 6-10 110 300 200 - - 1600 11-15 100 100 - - - 200 16-20 100 - - - - 100 21-25 ------26-30 11100 2100 2100 - - 15300 all students in qs 17310 4000 2900 300 100 24610 population 74910 25400 6800 800 400 108310

3. Pemba number of juz Indigenous Mainlander Arabs Indians Comorians total Africans 0-6 3915 1375 3250 225 - 8765 6-10 205 - 100 - - 305 11-15 105 - 10 - - 115 16-20 - - 100 - - 100 21-25 - - - 15 - 15 26-30 4960 525 3535 200 205 9240 all students in qs 10820 2425 7520 440 205 21410 population 62235 19465 30805 2220 575 115300

4. Zanzibar Protectorate number of juz Indigenous Mainlander Arabs Indians Comorians total Africans 0-6 9265 3385 4100 745 190 17685 6-10 1315 370 360 20 - 2085 11-15 235 180 20 30 20 465 16-20 100 60 120 10 - 290 21-25 - 30 - - - 30 26-30 16760 3385 6965 255 535 27900 all students in qs 29350 8255 12340 1290 795 52030 population 142975 57465 44605 15890 3615 264550 school development statistics 549

b. Zanzibar School Development The development of British colonial policies and educational policies, in particular, was reflected in numerous official statements, annual reports and statistics on education. Although these data provide a fairly systematic picture of the development of British educational policies, the charts presented here were the result of a process of negotiation involving the British Colonial administration and different Muslim groups in Zanzibar. A major problem for the development of a consistent policy of education was the heterogeneity of the protectorate population and a plethora of different interests regarding education. Equally, it has to be stressed that statistics evolved over time. Early statistics were rather incomplete. From the mid- 1920s, statistics became more sophisticated and after WWII, increasingly detailed. At the same time, patterns of statistical recording changed frequently and made identification of specific schools sometimes difficult. While some annual reports differentiate between boys’ and girls’ primary schools, others do not. Also, the number of secondary schools rose quickly in post WWII statistics due to the fact that the only government secondary school for boys (from 1958, King George VI College) as well as its female branch, the Sayyida Matuka school, was technically regarded as two schools. The same applies (since 1950) to the secondary school branches of the grant- in-aided Sir Euan Smith Madrasa and the Dole ‘Rural Middle School’ that merged into a new (technical) secondary school and a Teacher Training College (male and female branch: Sayyid Khalifa and Sayyida Nunuu) in 1958; the same again applies to the respective branches of the grant-in-aided St. Joseph’s College and the Aga Khan School for boys. On the other side, the Sir Euan Smith Madrasa was as often counted as an Indian school and not as a secondary school (branch), while the Dole ‘Rural Middle School’ was dissolved in 1954/1955 and merged with the SESM to initially form a technical primary school. From 1958, ‘Dole’ (and the SESM) became part of a new Technical Secondary School, and is considered thus, in the charts below, from 1958, as a Technical Secondary School (with branches for boys and girls). The second regular secondary school, Sayyid Abdallāh Secondary School (from 1964: Fidel Castro), was established in 1963 only, in Chake Chake/Pemba. For the sake of convenience, some of these differences have been omitted in the charts, all primary and secondary schools were regarded as one type 550 appendix of school, their government or non-government or technical orientation notwithstanding. Both number of schools and number of students attest, however, sustained efforts of the British Protectorate Administration as well as generations of Zanzibaris to build a comprehensive system of education. The following statistical overview on school development is based on the sources mentioned in chapter 5.5., in particular, the annual reports. The overview starts in 1905, reproducing both numbers of schools as well as number of students in these schools each year (as far as available). Depending on the time when data were recorded in the files, i.e. either the beginning or the end of a school-year, roll and attendance numbers differ. The numbers given in the charts below are always the (larger) enrollment numbers. To support the interpretation of the charts, a number of further comments regarding the different types of school will follow below.

1. The Development of Government Schools (key: psb: primary/elementary schools (boys: b); psg: primary/elementary schools (girls: g); ss: secondary schools; tcs: technical and commercial schools; mid: middle schools; tts: teacher training school/ colleges). Individual schools such as the Comorian school were not considered as their share in education has never been more than marginal, the female branches of secondary, technical and teacher training schools were counted, however, as independent schools:

year ps (b) ps (g) ss tcs mid tts 1905 1 - ---- 1906 1 - ---- 1907 1 - ---- 1908 5 - ---- 1909 5 - ---- 1910/11 5 - ---- 1912/13 5 - ---- 1914/15 5 - ---- 1916/17 5 - ---- 1918/19 5 - ---- 1920 5 - ---- 1921 5 - ---- 1922 5 - ---- school development statistics 551 year ps (b) ps (g) ss tcs mid tts 1923 8 - - 1 - 1 1924 11 - - 1 - 1 1925 12 - - 1 - 1 1926 12 - - 1 - 1 1927 13 1 - 1 - 1 1928 14 1 - 1 - 1 1929 15 1 - 1 - 1 1930 17 2 - 1 - 1 1931 17 2 - 1 - 1 1932 17 2 - 1 - 1 1933 17 2 - 1 - 1 1934 19 2 - - - 1 1935 22 2 1 - 1 - 1936 22 2 1 - 1 - 1937 21 3 1 - 1 - 1938 17 4 1 - 1 - 1939 17 4 1 - 1 - 1940 17 6 1 - 1 - 1941 17 6 1 - 1 - 1942 23 6 1 - 1 - 1943 23 6 1 - 1 1 1944 22 5 1 - 1 1 1945 30 7 1 - 1 1 1946 31 7 1 - 1 1 1947 34 7 2 - 1 1 1948 35 7 2 - 1 1 1949 35 7 2 - 1 1 1950 34 7 4 - 1 2 1951 35 6 4 - 1 2 1952 34 6 4 - 1 2 1953 37 6 4 - 1 2 1954 39 6 4 1 - 2 1955 42 9 4 1 - 2 1956 47 9 4 1 - 2 1957 50 12 4 1 - 2 1958 51 12 4 1 - 2 1959 50 13 5 - - 2 1960 50 13 5 - - 2 1961 50 13 5 - - 2 1962 50 13 5 - - 2 552 appendix year ps (b) ps (g) ss tcs mid tts 1963 50 12 6 - - 2 1964 50 12 7 - - 2

2. The Numbers of Students in Government Schools year ps (b) ps (g) ss(g in brackets) tcs mid tts 1905 ------1906 ------1907 ------1908 ------1909 141 - ---- 1910/11 187 - ---- 1912/13 267 - ---- 1914/15 255 - ---- 1916/17 272 - ---- 1918/19 ?- ---- 1920 560 - ---- 1921 556 - ---- 1922 617 - ---- 1923 416 - - - - 7 1924 418 - - 46 - 14 1925 730 - - 46 - 21 1926 908 - - 66 - 27 1927 1108 38 - 60 - 28 1928 1354 77 - 76 - 35 1929 2610 384 - 81 - 35 1930 2967 431 - 79 - 31 1931 3607 771 - 79 - 37 1932 3780 842 - 76 - 34 1933 4110 - 66 - 31 1934 3986 913 - 58 - 17 1935 4043 891 24 30 16 7 1936 4225 1056 47 16 48 - 1937 4137 1071 67 18 79 - 1938 4002 1172 96 17 125 - 1939 3897 1176 93 19 112 - 1940 ?? 95 - ? - 1941 ?? 102 - ? - 1942 2385 518 115 - ? - 1943 2546 521 135 (13) - 140 22 school development statistics 553

year ps (b) ps (g) ss(g in brackets) tcs mid tts 1944 2553 531 151 (17) - 140 32 1945 3399 718 166 (29) - 125 25 1946 3840 778 294 (28) - 112 53 1947 3989 842 331 (53) - 127 55 1948 4354 971 331 (74) - 163 36 1949 4608 1053 389 (90) - 143 41 1950 5001 1032 391 (113) - 148 63 1951 5195 1411 595 (125) - 140 67 1952 5544 1550 691 (148) 25 129 89 1953 6428 1703 598 (93) - 131 88 1954 7374 1413 771 (178) - - 118 1955 7930 2590 812 (185) - - 122 1956 8710 3129 929 (228) - 55 126 1957 9597 3800 826 (253) - 90 161 1958 10267 4277 801 (258) - 124 171 1959 10690 4847 895 (301) - 159 141 1960 10241 5346 937 (352) - 147 109 1961 10642 5688 930 (365) - - 105 1962 12263 6201 965 (387) - - 82 1963 12604 6502 1033 (398) - - 51 1964 - 1160 - - 93 ?

Comments

Primary (elementary) schools (boys) Statistics with respect to this column have been comparatively consistent, with the exception of the years 1908-1916, when the number of rural primary schools rose considerably for a short period of time to a number of 13 or even 17. Most of these schools had to be closed, however, until 1916, as parents refused to send their children to these schools. Between 1937 and 1942, primary schools again suffered a major crisis and some schools had to be closed. For Indian and mission primary schools (grant-in aided or not) see chapter 5.3. As far as student numbers were concerned, numbers include grant-in-aided Indian primary schools. As a result, the statistical number of Indian students in government primary schools was considerable. Also, the ps column includes, for the period of time between 1929 and 1932, students in mission schools. 554 appendix

Primary (Elementary) Schools (Girls) The first primary school for girls was established in 1927, as an Arab girls’ primary school. In 1930, a first class for African girls was started and the Arab girls’ school became the Zanzibar girls’ school. In 1932, a hostel was added to the girls’ primary school to cater for girls from rural areas. In 1930, the first primary school for girls was established in Chake Chake/Pemba, but was closed again in 1951. From 1955, the number of primary schools for girls rose considerably. As far as student numbers were concerned, it has to be mentioned that the Arab girls’ school was often but not always registered as an extra column until 1942, and was only then subsumed in colonial statistics under the primary girls’ school column. From 1951, primary schools had classes for boys and girls in the same building and education became increasingly co-educational.

Secondary Schools Here, statistics are relatively clear: the first SS was established in 1935, followed by a girls’ branch in 1947. In 1950 the SESM and the St. Joseph’s Convent School were registered as SS’s as well, although they were formally branches of the GSS. In 1959, the Technical School was registered as a SS and in 1963 the first SS was established in Pemba. As far as student numbers were concerned, they were rather small in the 1940s, but grew consistently. From 1943, there was an intake of girls (numbers for girls are put in brackets in the charts). The girls’ secondary school classes were initially accommodated in a building close to the Sultan’s palace leased by the government but moved, in 1958, as ‘Sayyida Matuka College’ to the former GSS building in Vuga (which again became the ‘Ben Bella School’ after 1964), when the new boys’ SS building was opened. In 1946, the SS adopted a whole day teaching programme. From 1951, the secondary students of the SESM secondary branch were registered as well (in 1951: 175 students, in 1952: 226). As the Muslim Academy was regarded only rather late as a (Muslim) Secondary School and as the number of students at the Muslim Academy remained small, this school and its students were not registered in the chart (for the Muslim Academy see chapter 8). In 1950, four schools offered full or partial secondary school education: the Government Secondary School proper (for boys), the girls’ branch of the GSS (Sayyida Matuka College), the secondary school branch of the SESM, which school development statistics 555 became a government school in 1950 with 169 students; as well as the RMS in ‘Beit el-Ras’, which was a ‘technical’ school as well as a school for teacher training until 1954, when it became a technical primary school (see also Teacher Training Colleges below). In addition, the Aga Khan Boys’ school and the St. Joseph’s Convent had secondary school branches. In 1958, the GSS moved from the old building in Vuga to a new building in Saateni and was renamed King George VI College (BA 6/13-14). In 1959, the GSS offered a second branch that led after a two-year course, to higher education. In 1963, a first secondary school (and second full secondary school in Zanzibar) was opened in Pemba (Chake Chake), Sayyid Abdallāh College. Unguja had, by then, the following secondary school branches: the King George VI College; the Sayyida Matuka secondary school for girls (i.e. the girls’ branch of the GSS); and the GSS branch of the SESM; since 1958, the Sayyid Khalifa secondary school (for technical and teacher training), as well as its female wing, Sayyida Nunuu College; and finally, the secondary school branches of St. Joseph’s and the Aga Khan school.

Technical and Commercial Schools Here, statistics were again rather confusing: Although a first Commercial school was established in 1923, statistics mentioned a number of technical workshops and craft classes that were never viewed as proper schools. In 1934, the Commercial school was dissolved, yet the technical workshops continued, while technical and agricultural training shifted to the Dole Rural Middle School. In 1950, Teacher Training at Dole was transferred, together with the ‘Rural Middle School’, to ‘Beit el-Ras’, although it only had primary school status until 1958. In 1954, the ‘Dole’ RMS (see below), which had also been transferred to ‘Beit el-Ras’ in 1950, became a commercial school, to be transformed into a Government Technical Secondary School in 1958/59. Student intake was very small, however, in the whole period of time.

Middle Schools The Rural Middle School in Dole, opened in 1935, was a middle school for students after form IV with boarding facilities that provided a four year course curriculum in ‘practical disciplines’ such as handicrafts, carpentry, hut-building, rural sciences; in 1935, the RMS 556 appendix had 16 students, while an annual intake of 32 was projected. Future teachers were to be recruited from the RMS or the Jeanes Training Centre (see the 1937 annual report), a plan which never materialized. In 1950, the RMS was shifted to a new location, ‘Beit el-Ras’, north of Zanzibar Town. In 1954, it became a new technical primary school. In 1958, ‘Dole’’s shift to ‘Beit el-Ras’ was complete and the RMS merged with the new Technical (Secondary) School. ‘Dole’ featured prominently in the biographies of many Zanzibaris (see a series of articles in Dira on ‘Dole’ from 17.1. to 20.3.2003, titled Maisha ya Mzee Shalzal katika mfumo wa elimu wa kikoloni Zanzibar, 1942-1963). Like other schools in the British colonial education system, ‘Dole’ cultivated a spirit of corporate identity. Thus, students were accommodated in boarding houses that had specific badges. They took part in games, parades and sports that enhanced group solidarity. The ‘Dole’ curriculum provided not only for teaching, but also communal prayers, parades, games, evening classes and communal activities (see Dira, 28.2.-6.3.2003).

Teacher Training School/Colleges The first TTS was established in 1923 in Dole, but was dissolved in 1935. The closure of the TTS was officially due to ‘decline of rural elementary schools’, due to a lack of money and demand. A major reason for the closure of the TTS in 1935 was probably that there were no vacancies for its graduates in town schools, while graduates, mostly from urban families, refused to teach in rural schools. As a consequence, the Jeanes school project received some initial support (Turki 1987: 342). Another reason for the closure of the TTS were the controversies that had started in 1925, involving questions with respect to the nature of Islamic education, the teaching of Arabic, as well as the general orientation of the syllabus and the hours devoted to religious classes (Ziddy 2001: 21). A major bone of contention was the fact that the language of teaching had increasingly become KiSwahili instead of Arabic. Despite these disputes, the TTS became an institution that trained Zanzibar’s intellectual elite for two generations. The first director of the TTS, L.W. Hollingsworth had a major formative influence on his students until 1933, when he became the principal of Zanzibar’s first secondary school that was opened in 1935 (see chapter 7). In 1940 a female teacher training class was started at one of the government primary schools in Zanzibar Town, school development statistics 557 but by 1943, the Women Teacher Training College (WTTC) still consisted of one class only and was accommodated in the Government Girls’ school, to move to a new building in Ng’ambo in 1945. In 1943 the (male) TTC was reopened in Dole and merged with the RMS in Dole but shifted to ‘Beit el-Ras’, with ‘Dole’, in 1950, where it came to form, from 1958, the Sayyid Khalifa TTC, which formed, with its female wing, Sayyida Nunuu College, Zanzibar’s new Technical Secondary and Teacher Training College. In 1946, formal female teacher training had started, and in the 1950s an increasing number of trainees were women (13 in 1951, 35 in 1961). In 1950, the female WTTC was attached to the Ng’ambo Girls’ Primary School.

The Comorian School The Comorian school was established in 1930, with an initially 100 students. From 1930, the school was accommodated in a building in Mchangani (Mlandege) then moved, in 1939, to the Saxi building in Maisara Suleiman/Kikwajuni as leased to the French Consular Service from 1 July 1939 in a respective consular agreement (as of 29 July 1937). The Comorian school was financed by the French Consulate in Zanzibar and taught French. Consequently, it was regarded as an independent institution as the Comoros were a French colony and the British rejected supervision for the school in 1941 in the context of WWII. In 1937, the school had 67 boys and 29 girls (ZNA AD 23/16). The number of students remained small (300 students in 1939) and many moved to the GCS in 1941. In 1940/41, the school was closed due to the war but was reopened on 1 December 1941. Yet, 190 children remained in government schools. In 1940, the teachers were Haroub Adam, English (appointed 1932); Alawī b. Abd al-Wahhāb Jamal al-Layl, Arabic, the Arabic clerk at the French consulate; Muhammad Eliyas (a. 1937), for French, English and Kiswahili; Mamūd b. Abd al-Raīm (a. 1937), for Swahili; Mrs. J.S. Bulsara as a part-timer, as well as Mrs. Mgeni Jabu as ‘Koran’ teacher. In 1956, the Comorian school, which had moved to a new building in Kajificheni in that year (IC26, 6.8.2007), was still under the supervision of the French Consul General, Pierre Meyer in Nairobi. A visit of the Senior Women education officer in 1955 showed that ‘the standard of equipment and teaching left much to be desired’. The school was rather poor, also with respect to school requisites and visual aids. The staff was under-trained, inexperienced and had small 558 appendix salaries (ZNA AB 1/385). Many Comorians did not send their children to the Comorian school, but to government schools as they wanted their children to integrate into local society (IC50, 3.8.2004). In 1963, France decided to build a new school, but this plan could not be realized any more due to the revolution in 1964. In late 1964, the school had 106 students in total (71 boys, 35 girls) as well as nine teachers and a headmaster (ZNA AD 23/10).

External Funding for Education in Zanzibar Since the 1980s, Zanzibar’s government school system has received financial support from foreign donors. Between 1984 and 1997, major sources of external aid were (Ziddy 2001: 35):

1. SIDA (Sweden) 175 Mio. Sh. 2. Aga Khan Foundation 88.4 Mio. Sh. 3. UNFPA 51.1 Mio. Sh. 4. ODA (Britain) 70 Mio. Sh. 5. UNESCO 3.5 Mio. Sh. 6. Embassy of Japan 21 Mio. Sh. 7. ISESCO 3.5 Mio. Sh. 8. GSE (an NGO) 7.8 Mio. Sh. 9. Canadian embassy 8 Mio. Sh. 10. KEEWATIN (an institute) 70 Mio. Sh. 11. British embassy 0.6 Mio. Sh. 12. UNICEF 87 Mio. Sh. 13. Dutch Government 65 Mio. Sh. 14. French embassy books

Zanzibar’s Primary and Secondary School Curricula in 1960

The 1959 ‘Report of the Commission on Education’ reproduced the government primary and secondary school curriculum as valid for 1960 (ZNA BA 6/22). Primary school was structured as an eight year curriculum, preceded in the case of most government boys’ schools by a ‘Koran’ class and in government girls’ schools by an infants’ class (ZNA BA 5/34). The secondary school then continued for four years in two different streams, natural sciences (a) and languages (b): primary and secondary school curricula in 1960 559 a. Government Primary School Boys (KC = ‘Koran’ school) subjects/classes KC I II III IV V VI VII VIII Qur ān, diāna, maulidi 22 6 8 5 5 5 5 4 4 Arabic 455555533 kiswahili, imlā 001100000 inshā 201122211 ‘hati’ (kha) 042000000 (sum of teaching (28) (15) (17) (12) (12) (12) (12) (8) (8) periods in the diānāt) Reading 043421111 Arithmetic 066555577 Geography 022222222 History 000002222 English 00378881010 nature study 011111111 Hygiene 000110000 activities (e.g. 023344444 gardening) total 30 30 35 35 35 35 35 35 35 b. Government Primary School Girls (IC = ‘Infant’ class; girls leave school on fridays before jum a prayers) subjects/classes IC I II III IV V VI VII VIII Religion 5 5 5 3 3 3 3 3 3 Arabic 3 3 5 5 5 5 5 5 5 (sum of teaching (8) (10) (8) (8) (8) (8) (8) (8) (8) periods in the diānāt) English 0 0 3 7 8 9 9 9 9 reading (Kiswahili) 5 5 9 6 5 0 0 0 0 writing (Kiswahili) 5 5 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 Arithmetic 5 5 5 6 6 7 7 7 7 Geography 1 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 nature 111111111 studies(hygiene) Needlework 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 Games 2 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 Art 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 domestic science - - - - - 3 3 3 3 total 30 30 34 34 34 34 34 34 34 560 appendix c. Government Secondary School (boys, two streams, a and b) subjects XIIa XIIb XIa XIb Xa Xb IXa IXb english 9 12 9 12 8 8 9 9 history 3 3 3 3 3 3 2 2 geography 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 gujarati 3 0 3 0 3 0 3 0 swahili 0 3 0 3 0 3 0 3 arabic 3 0 3 0 5 0 5 0 mathematics 6 6 6 6 6 6 6 6 physics 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 chemistry 3 3 3 3 2 2 2 2 biology 3 0 3 0 3 3 3 3 arts 0 3 0 3 2 2 2 2 total 36 36 36 36 38 38 38 33 d. Government Secondary School (girls, two streams, a and b, only for standards IX and X; girls who take the Arabic stream come back for Arabic classes on saturday morning) subjects XII XI Xa Xb IXa IXb english 9 9 8 8 8 8 history 3 3 3 3 3 3 geography 4 3 3 3 3 3 gujarati 4 3 3 0 3 0 swahili 4 3 3 3 0 0 Arabic 0 5 3 0 3 3 mathematics 7 6 6 6 6 6 physics/chemistry 6 6 3 0 0 0 general science 0 0 0 0 3 3 biology 4 3 3 3 3 3 arts 2 2 2 2 2 2 domestice science 2 3 4 7 4 4 health science 2 2 0 0 0 0 current events 1 1 0 0 0 0 total 48 49 41 35 38 35 biographical dictionary 561

BIOGRAPHICAL DICTIONARY

Major sources for the following short biographies were the ZNA files, in particular, the personal files (ZNA AB 86 series). In addition, Rhodes House/Oxford provided some material, in particular, on colonial administrators. Further information was gained in Zanzibar’s newspapers, either pre-revolutionary papers such as al-Falaq, or recent publications such as Maarifa, an-Nuur or Dira, that often carried articles on religious scholars or other important persons as well as obituaries; finally, the archive of Mwalimu Idris was a treasure of information and Mwalimu Idris has provided, in numerous meetings, biographical data (for additional secondary sources see each entry). Names are spelled in varying ways in Zanzibar in the colonial and postcolonial period. Variations are added in brackets.

1. Prominent Zanzibaris

B1 al- Abbāsī Amad Rashad Alī, a secretary of the Malindi Sports Club (al-Falaq, 15.4.1953). Abdallāh Sayyid Umar, see chapters 7.4 and 8.2. B2 Abd al-Wadud Juma, d. 1978, a teacher at the Muslim Academy in the 1970s and deputy principal, contributed to the reestablishment of the CCK (see chapter 9). B3 Abd al-Wārith Sa īd, an Egyptian teacher and interim director of the Muslim Academy before 1972 (see chapter 3). B4 Abdulrehman Ahmed Muhammad ‘Machungwa’, born 1927 in Zan- zibar, Sunni, Comorian, 1946 Cambridge School Cer- tificate, was appointed education officer on 1 January 1951, studied on a Makerere Government scholarship at the Portsmouth Municipal College; passed exams in 1954 and proceeded to the University of Hull in 1955 (until 1958), became a teacher for chemistry, botany and zoology, was appointed education officer in 1958 (ZNA AB 86/42). B5 Abubakar Muammad, Headmaster of the Government Central School (ZNA AD3/8), chairman of the 1945 Com- mittee on Religious Teaching. B6 al- Ajīzī Abd al-Bāri b. Abd al-Bāri al- Ajīzī; born 1876 (1297 H.) in the village of Kafr al- Awājiz in Egypt, taught by his parents in the basics of religion, as well as tajwīd, became shaykh (teacher) at al-Azhar, then came to Zanzibar as invited by the British Adminis- tration in order to teach Arabic and stayed until 1930. He was the first teacher of the first Government School in 1905, where he taught diāna, Arabic and tajwīd. He retired in 1930 after serving in the DeptoE for more than 25 years. He contributed to the establishment of mawlid celebrations in Mnazi Mmoja and 562 biographical dictionary

cultivated tajwīd in Zanzibar. Shaykh Abd al-Bāri was a teacher of Abdallāh āli al-Farsy. His picture may be found in Saidi Musa’s biography of Abdallāh āli al-Farsy. He died on 19 June 1946 in Egypt (Lacunza Balda 1997: 109, al-Falaq 29.6.1946). B7 Aley Juma, b. 1915 in Fuoni/Unguja; became a teacher in 1933 (as trained by L.W. Hollingsworth) at the TTC as well as the GSS, studied biology in Makerere, was then the first Zanzibari to go as a student to Britain (ZNA AB 86/49). From 1946-48, he studied at Lon- don University (Linguistics and English Literature), did a diploma in 1949; After his return, he became President of the Zanzibar non-European Civil Service Association; in addition, he led Zanzibar’s national cricket team; he was member of the Zanzibar delegation in the Lancaster House independence talks in London in 1962/3; after the revolution, he was imprisoned on the mainland and released in 1974, then got a position in the union administration. He retired from active service in 1983. He was the author of a number of books on Zanzibar (see also Petterson 2002). B8 al-Amawī (properly: al-Umawī), Abd al- Azīz b. Abd al-Ghanī b. āhir b. Nūr al-Amawī al-Qurayshī (1838-96) (see chapter 3; al-Farsy 1972: 14-16). B9 al-Amawī Burhān b. Abd al- Azīz al-Amawī (1861-1935), was born in Mombasa, died in Unguja. He was Qā ī in Zanzibar from 1890 to 1931/32 (see ALA IIIb), cultivated good relations with Sultan Alī b. umūd (r. 1902-11) for whom he acted as a wazīr and who supported Shaykh Burhān in a dispute with Amad b. Sumay (al-Farsy 1972: 16; see chapter 3). In WWI, Shaykh Burhān entertained good relations with the British by supplying them with information (Pouwels 1987: 181). In 1919, he was honoured with the ‘Order of the British Empire’ (OBE) (Bang 2003: 155). He also became a member of the first Advisory Board on Education in 1923. B10 al-Amawī āhir b. Abī Bakr al-Amawī born in Brawa (1877-1938), he came to Zanzibar early, stayed with his uncle Abd al- Azīz and was educated by Abd al- Azīz, became Deputy Qā ī after the death of Amad b. Sumay in 1925 and Chief Qā ī after the retirement of Shaykh Burhān, died on 5 November 1938 (al-Falaq, 5.11.1938). He supported British disciplinary action against ‘extravagant expenditure’ in Pemba in 1936 (ZNA AB 30/22). He was a member of the first Advisory Board on Education in 1923 and provided advice in other matters. Amīr (also: Ameir, Amour, Amūr, Amor), a family of biographical dictionary 563

Marūbī lineage, religious scholars and administrators in Zanzibar. B11 Hilāl b. Amūr al-Marūbī replaced Muammad b. Sayf as Muftī of Zanzibar in 1895 as he was considered to be critical to British rule under the rule of Sultan āmid b. Thwaynī. Ameir Amūr Alī (al-Marūbī), see chapters 7 and 9. Amīr asan b. Amīr al-Shirāzī (1880-1978); see chapter 3 and al-Farsy 1972: 65. B12 Ameir Khamis Abdallah, a leading revolutionary, member of the Umma party and supporter of Karume; he was secretary of the ‘Maritime and Allied Workers Union’. Ameir Tajo Ameir, see Ameir Tajo. B13 Amour Salmin (b. 1948); President of Zanzibar 1990-2000, known to be a member of the ‘frontliner’ group of the Revolutionary Council (Bakari 2001: 116; see chapter 2). al- Azrī a family of Omani origin, many religious scholars, affiliated with the Ibā iyya. B14 al- Azrī Sa īd b. Abdallāh b. Amūr al- Azrī was appointed Ibā ī Qā ī of Chake in 1946 as successor of Muyī al-Dīn b. Abī Bakr al-Amawī who had died on 10.8.1946 (al-Falaq 7.9.1946). He was a member of the Arab Association in Pemba. In 1960 (22.2.), he became Ibā ī Chief Qā ī of Zanzibar (until 1964). He was born in 1902 in Zanzibar. After the revolution he was sent a letter of retirement which informed him, in rather laconic terms: ‘Sir, I have the honour to inform you that it has been approved that you should be retired from the civil service in the public interest with effect from the 12th January 1964’ (ZNA AB 86/140). B15 Baashan (Ba Ashin, properly: Bā ashwān), Amad āli, a member of the Arab Association. B16 ‘Babu’, Abd al-Ramān Muammad (1924-96); his father, Muammad Umar al-usaynī, represented an old Comorian family in the Ukutani quarter of Zanzibar and owned the Ukutani cemetery, where ‘Babu’ as well as a number of eminent religious scholars were buried, in particular, the Bā Kathīr family. As a member of the al-usaynī family, ‘Babu’ was related to the ‘Manab’ family. After attending the GCS, he studied at Makerere and in London, then established a link with Cuba and China (Clayton 1981: 46). In 1957 he went to London and became a leader of the Zanzibari expatriate community, especially Ali Sultan Issa and Khamis Abdallah Ameir (Burgess 2002a: 16). He returned to Zanzibar in 1957 and became Secretary General of the ZNP (1957-61). Also, he established the ZNP Youth organization, the ‘Youth’s Own 564 biographical dictionary

Union’ (Burgess 2002a: 16). He organized scholarships for studies in East Germany, China, the USSR and Czechoslovakia. By 1962, 116 students were studying in these countries (Burgess 2002a: 22). In 1962, he was imprisoned due to his radical positions and subsequently founded the Umma Party in July 1963. His father, Muammad Umar ‘Lyne’ al- usaynī acted as honorary consul for Portugal and maintained a popular baraza in Mkunazini (Aley 1988: 58 and ‘Babu’ 2001). B17 Bachu (also: Pachu, Bachoo), Nassor, a major spokesman of the Anār al-Sunna movement in Zanzibar (see chapter 3). B18 al-Badawī Alī b. Amad Jamal al-Layl (1907-1989), studied at the ribā in Tarīm for twenty years, under his father, Amad al-Badawī, a son of abīb āli from Lamu. Like Abdāllah āli al-Iarcy Sayyid Alī was a student of al-Amīn b. Alī al-Mazrū ī. He acted as Chief Qā ī of Kenya from 1948 to 1953, taught in Lamu as well as in Zanzibar, in the Madrasat Bā Kathīr and Gofu (tafsīr). At Gofu mosque, he led the witr and tarāwī prayers. In 1960, he was hired on a contract basis as teacher at the Muslim Academy (ZNA AD 23/17; see chapter 8) in the 1970’s, his son, Amad b Alī, al-Badawī (b. 1939) opposed Abdāllah āli al- Farsy. B19 Bakari Seif, was a tailor without higher education, but trained in Cuba (Burgess 1999: 34). He became the Chairman of the ASP Youth League and continued after the revolution as ASP Youth League chairman. He was ‘chosen successor’ to Karume, who actually preferred him and other semi-educated revolutionaries to the ‘intellectuals’ such as Kassim Hanga or Othman Sharif. As chairman of the intelligence council, he was in charge of security, the political commissar of the army and, later-on, in charge of the campaign against smugglers and the policing of the food ration queues (Burgess 1999: 36). Seif Bakari and ‘his hard- line faction within the Revolutionary Council’ were largely responsible for blocking reforms when Jumbe came to power in 1972, until Bakari took over a union government position in Dar es Salaam in the late 1970s (Burgess 1999: 44). According to Okello, Seif Bakari was a major figure in the preparation of the revolution: ‘It was with these men (Abdallah Mfarinyaki, Ramadhan Haji, Mzee Kenya, Said Idi Bavuai, Matias Simba, Mzee Muhammad, Absolom Amoi Ingen) and Seif Bakari, that the strategy of the Revolution was worked out’ (Okello 1967/71: 118). According to Okello, Seif Bakari and his followers in the ASU Youth League were part of the planning for biographical dictionary 565

the revolution since 26 September 1963. Bakari was, according to Okello, ‘one of the men most responsible for bringing together the large forces that gathered in Zanzibar on that night’ (Okello 1967/71: 28 and 101). According to many Zanzibaris, Seif Bakari was largely responsible for the massacres in 1964; yet, due to his semi-education, he is not regarded as a major figure in the organization of the revolution as claimed by Okello. Bā Kathīr a family of religious scholars in Zanzibar. Its most famous member was: B20 Bā Kathīr al-Kindī Abdallāh b. Muammad b. Sālim b. Amad b. Alī b. Abdallāh b. Umar Bā Kathīr al-Kindī (1860-1925; see chapter 3 and al-Farsy, 1972: 21ff). B21 Bā Kathīr Abū Bakr b. Abdallāh Bā Kathīr (1881-1943), was a son of Abdallāh Bā Kathīr al-Kindī, and student of al-Amīn b. Alī al-Mazrū ī. A picture may be found in Saidi Musa’s biography of Abdallāh āli al-Farsy (for his works and travels see al-Farsy 1972: 44, 46-8; see also chapter 3). B22 Bā Kathīr Ma alim Abdallāh (b. Abī Bakr b. Abdallāh) Bā Kathīr was director of the Madrasat al-Nūr in Mku- nazini, 1967-2000, died 2000 (see chapter 9 and Pen- rad 1998). Balfaqīh (also: Bilfaqīh), a family of religious scholars in the Comoros and in Zanzibar, originally from Hadra- maut (see Pouwels 1987). B23 Bā Qashmar Muammad b. Muammad, a scholar who was closely affiliated with a number of Sultans, in particular, Mājid and Barghash. From 1889, he lived in exile in the Middle East for some years, due to his support for resistance against the Anglo-German blockade of Zanzibar in 1888/1989; he was one of those scholars to cultivate early Salafī influences in Zanzibar (see Bang 2003: 136; extensively Pouwels 1987: 170-171 and 206-207; IC26, 13.8.2007; chapter 3). B24 Bā Qashmar His son, Alī b. Muammad b. Muammad Bā Qash- mar ‘al- Abbāsī’ (1879-1953) studied in Mecca and returned to Zanzibar in 1894, then studied with Amad b. Sumay and was appointed Qā ī in Wete/ Pemba in 1938/39 (al-Farsy 1972: 63-4). In 1944, Zanzibar had four leading qā īs: abīb b. Mbaruk al-Ma ūlī (see B117), Alī b. Muammad (Bā Qash- mar), Sa īd b. Rashīd al-Ghaythī and Umar b. Sumay (ZNA AB 86/138). After Alī b. Muammad’s death in 1953, Abdallāh āli al-Farsy was offered the position of Qā ī in Wete (see chapter 7). The Bā Qashmar family built a mosque in Mbuyuni/Darajani which has become a centre of the Anār al-Sunna (IC26, 25.5.2004; 13.8.2007). al-Barwānī a family of Omani origin, affiliated with the Ibā iyya, 566 biographical dictionary

served for the Sultan of Zanzibar as governors in Lindi, Mafia-island and Zanzibar; in the late 19th century, many Barwānīs converted to the Shāfi īmad- hhab; the family was particularly affected by the revolution (IC26, 13.8.2007); B25 al-Barwānī Alī b. Khamīs b. Sālim al-Barwānī (b. 1852, d. 1885) was an Ibā ī scholar in Zanzibar, who converted, under the alleged influence of Muammad b. āli al-Farsy, to the Shāfi ī madhhab in 1870 and even became a member of the Qādiriyya. He was imprisoned and sent to Oman. He died in Oman at the age of 33 years (see Pouwels 1987: 119, al-Farsy 1972). B26 al-Barwānī Muammad b. Alī b. Khamīs al-Barwānī (b. c. 1873, d. 25.2.1953), was a student of Shaykh Bā Kathīr and Abd al-Ramān b. Mamūd al-Wāshilī (al-Falaq 25.2.1953, al-Farsy 1972: 62). B27 al-Barwānī Musin b. Alī b. Isā al-Barwānī was one of the major scholars of 20th century Zanzibar (1875-1953), a student of Abdallāh Bā Kathīr, who taught at the Gofu mosque, who took over the Ukutani class after 1917. In addition, he had classes of his own in the Baghani quarter, where he came to form several generations of Zanzibari students, such as Abdallāh āli al- Farsy. B28 al-Barwānī Muammad b. Sālim b. Hilāl al-Barwānī (b. 18.12.1908), a member of the Arab Association in Unguja and editor of al-Falaq from 1931-1945; educated at the GCS, then the TTC; joined government service on 12 March 1928 or 1 April 1928, became assistant to L.W. Hollingsworth. He studied from 1938-1941 in Britain and was appointed assistant education officer in 1941. From 1944-1948, he studied in Oxford, graduating with a B.A. in education. He was appointed education officer on 22 October 1948, then went to the London University College and continued at SOAS and Oxford (St. Edmund Hall). He was Principal of the Sayyid Khalifa School and Headmaster of the Dole RMS. From 1949-52 he served in Pemba. His (1963) personal report said: ‘excellent conduct, pleasant manners, accepts responsibility readily, steady worker, very able (ad - ministrative), judgment well considered, very good professional or technical ability, vg. capacity for organization, vg. ability to cooperate with other officers, vg. relations with the public’ (signed Hann). He probably trained most educated Zanzibaris before 1964 but retired in 1961 (ZNA AD 49/12 and ZNA AD 49/13). In his youth, he was a famous football player (‘Jinja’/Ginger). In the aftermath of the revolution, he was executed by Ibrahim Makungu, the Head of State Security, together with Amūr Zahor (inspector of police) and Muammad amūd al-Barwānī biographical dictionary 567

(the assassin of Alī Sulān al-Mughayrī) in the Mtoni detention camp (see Colonial Office Civil Service List and al-Barwānī 1998; Kharousi 1967: 32; IC 50, 23.7.2007; see also chapter 2). A daughter married Yusuf Himid, a grand-daughter married Abeid Amani Karume (IC102, 9.10.2008). B29 al-Barwānī Hilāl Muammad Hilāl Alī al-Barwānī was born 19 July 1916. He became teacher in 1932, and taught both KiSwahili and Arabic. On 21 January 1935 he was appointed Assistant Mudīr in Chwaka, later Mkoani, 1942 Mangapwani, then Mkokotoni and Choani. In 1950, he travelled to Oxford, returned in 1951 and became Assistant Secretary in the ministry of education. From 1955, he was editor of the Official Gazette as well as clerk of the LegCo. He also was a member of the Arab Association. In 1957, he was appointed Assistant District Officer in Pemba, later in Unguja. In 1961, he attended an Arabic language training course in Lebanon. On 17 April 1961, he was appointed assistant secretary to the Minister of Edu- cation (ZNA AB 86/233 and ZNA AD 49/49). B30 al-Barwānī Alī Musin al-Barwānī (b. 13.1.1919-2006), was one of the major leaders of the Arab Association. Alī Musin was to become of particular importance for the political struggle in Zanzibar in the 1950s and the development of the ZNP. In addition, he cultivated close ties with Jamāl Abd al-Nāir (Clayton 1981: 40). He was taught by Lawrence William Hollings- worth (see chapter 7). Alī Musin al-Barwānī also was a student of Abd al-Bāri al- Ajīzī, who taught him Qur ān, tajwīd and calligraphy, whereas Hilāl Muammad Hilāl al-Barwānī taught him English; other teachers were Burhān Muammad Mkelle, Abd al-Ramān Muammad Kindī, Abdallāh a ramī, Abdallāh āli al-Farsy and Amad Zahrān al-Riyāmī (al-Barwānī 1996: 51). In 1936/ 1937, after secondary school, Alī Musin al-Barwānī became one of the first Zanzibaris to study at Mak- erere (al-Barwānī 1996: 69). He was also the editor of the Mwongozi journal since 1953. For his role in the zama za siasa of the 1950s and 1960s see chapter 2 as well as al-Barwānī’s memoirs (Barwani 1996). B31 al-Barwānī Badr b. Muammad al-Barwānī was a member of the Arab Association. B32 al-Barwānī Muammad amūd al-Barwānī assassinated Alī Sulān Mughayrī in 1956. Although amūd was sentenced to death, this penalty was commuted to ten years of imprisonment (Mapuri 1996: 16). Muam- mad amūd al-Barwānī was executed in 1964 after the revolution by Ibrahim Makungu in the Mtoni detention camp (or: died ‘under torture’, Bakari 2001: 111). 568 biographical dictionary

B33 al-Barwānī His son, amūd Muammad al-Barwānī assassinated President Karume on 7 April 1972 (‘Babu’ 1991: 266 and Clayton 1981: 39; chapter 2). (Bin) Wazīr see Wazīr. B34 Bingurnah Sa īd Mafū', was born in 1907 in Zanzibar, of Arab origin, went to the Government Central School, then to the TTC. In 1929, he went to Makerere and the Uganda Medical school: He was in fact, the first Zan- zibari to go to Makerere. Since 1935 he was employed in the Zanzibar health department as Assistant Med- ical Officer. From 1948-1951, he went to London for further medical training at the St. Thomas’ Hospital Medical School, together with Othman Sharif, Sa īd Muammad al-Kharūī, Abd al-Ramān Aydarūs Bā Alawī and Zubayr Rijāl Wazīr (ZNA AB 86/63). In 1954, he was appointed medical officer in Zanzi- bar. Bin Sālim a family of scholars from Anjouan/Comoros, Zanzi- bar and Hadramaut: see Sālim. (Āl) Bū Alī a well known family of Arab origin. B35 al-Bū Alī Sa īd Hilāl al-Bū Alī (Bualy), born 1909 in Malindi, Kenya; he worked as a teacher from January 1931 until 1949 at the TTC, was appointed Assistant Edu- cation Officer in 1949, from 1950-55 teacher of Ara- bic at the GSS, in 1956 transferred to Pemba to take over from Amūr Alī Ameir as District Education Officer (until 1958). In 1958, he was posted to the headquarters in Zanzibar as Education Officer. He had a certificate in Arabic, studied at SOAS (English for foreigners), then at the London Polytechnic. His personal report of 12.12.1962 said: ‘Conduct very good, even temperament, accepts responsibility willingly, administrative ability good, good in teaching of Arabic and Kiswahili, good capacity for organization, very good ability to cooperate with other officers, very good relations with the public, has recently been working in the museum’ (ZNA AD 49/1 and 33). B36 Bulsara Rati (also: Rutti Balsara); the Indian-Parsee editor of The Adal Ināf, one of the leading ‘Indian’ papers in Zanzibar as established in 1948 (stopped 1964) and one of the few politically active Indians (IC82, 14.8.2007); Rati Bulsara acquired Zanzibar’s most sophisticated printing press for The Adal Ināf; he won the 1957 Stone Town constituency seat in the first LegCo elections for the ZNU/ZNP; he also was publicity secretary of the ZNP, and was accused, in 1959, of anti-colonial propaganda and sentenced to not to publish anything for a period of 12 months (Mwongozi, 22.5.1959). In 1961, he again was candidate of the ZNP for the Stone Town seat (see Barwani biographical dictionary 569

and Harding, 2003: 163, interview with Amani Thani). al-Bū Sa īdī (Āl Bū Sa īd), the former ruling family in Zanzibar, also rulers of Oman until today, affiliated with the Ibā iyya (ahl al-istiqāma, the ‘people of upright- ness’). The family was also involved in diverse business activities as well as landed property in Zanzibar. The Bū Sa īdī family suffered considerably in the revolution. A number of family members still live in Zanzibar. B37 al-Bū Sa īdī Sayf b. Sulaymān al-Bū Sa īdī was a member of the Arab Association in Unguja in the 1920s. B38 al-Bū Sa īdī Sulaymān b. Sayf al-Bū Sa īdī was a member of the Arab Association in Unguja (1950s). B39 al-Bū Sa īdī Sālim Amad al-Bū Sa īdī was a member of the Arab Association. B40 al-Dahhān Muammad b. Muammad al-Dahhān, a graduate of al-Azhar, Cairo, became first principal of the Muslim Academy in April 1952, see chapter 8. Damān was a family of religious scholars in Zanzibar. B41 Damān Sa īd b. Muammad Damān was the football captain of the first division team of the Malindi Sports Club and a member of the Arab Sports Club (al-Falaq, 15.4.1953). B42 Damān Sa īd b. Muammad b. Abdallāh Damān (1877-1 September 1926), was a younger brother of (41) and a favourite student of Amad b. Sumay (‘Sayyid Ahmed akapenda sana’, al-Farsy 1972: 60). He also studied with Muammad b. Abdallāh al-Hanzawanī. After Amad b. Sumay’s death in 1925, Sa īd b. Damān was chosen by the colonial administration to follow him in the office of Chief Qā ī, yet, after one week only he resigned (‘lakini aliuacha kabla ya wiki moja kupita’, al-Farsy 1972: 60). Some of his students became famous teachers on the mainland, such as Sa īd b. Abdallāh Lindi Mmakonde (1890-1957) who settled in Tabora in 1953. Other students were Amad b. usayn, Shaykh ‘Qāmūs’ and Ja far Jamal al-Layl who taught, like him, in the Bā Qashmar mosque in Mbuyuni/Darajani. Another famous student was Sayyid Abū l-asan b. Amad Jamal al-Layl (see al-Farsy 1972: 40-1, 60; Bang 2003: 193, 227; IC73, 22.8.2002). Sa īd b. Damān was buried in the same tomb as his teacher Amad b. Sumay, close to the Malindi Friday mosque. B43 Dedes Abd al-Ramān, ‘leader’ of one of the branches of the Qādiriyya in Zanzibar as well as the Katiba ya jumuiya zawiyatul Qadiriyya Tanzania, a Muslim NGO founded in 1990; and one of the major disciples of Muammad Naor (d. 2003, see below). In the 1990s, he was in his mid-40s (IC26, 25.5.2004); one 570 biographical dictionary

of his brothers, Muammad Laīf, had a high position in the Tanzanian government before he was sent to the US for his Ph.D. His mother, Bibi Rehema, was a khalīfa of the Qādiriyya in Zanzibar in 1992 (Pur- pura 1997: 230; see chapter 3). al-Esmaili (properly: al-Ismā īlī), important Arab family in Pemba, Nāir b. Muammad al-Esmaili took action against ‘extravagant expenditure’ in Pemba in 1936 (ZNA AB 30/22). al-Farsy was a major family of scholars and administrators in Zanzibar. B44 al-Farsy Jābir b. āli b. Qāsim al-Farsy (1865-1949), was Abdallāh āli al-Farsy’s maternal grandfather; a student of Abdallāh Bā Kathīr (al-Farsy 1972: 40/1). B45 al-Farsy Abd al-Ramān b. Jābir al-Farsy, was treasurer of the Malindi Sports Club and member of the Arab Sports Club (al-Falaq, 15.4.1953). B46 al-Farsy Muammad b. Jābir b. āli al-Farsy died on 10 July 1938, was chief clerk and interpreter at the high court, a son of Jābir b. āli b. Qāsim (al-Falaq, 16.7.1938). al-Farsy Abdallāh āli al-Farsy (1912-82), see chapter 7. Sha bān b. āli al-Farsy see chapter 7. B47 al-Farsy Jābir aydar Jābir al-Farsy was a grandson of Jābir b. āli al-Farsy and a nephew of Abdallāh āli al- Farsy. He was a director of the Markaz Mkuu, a new school funded by the Ismā īlīs, but later established his own school in Shangani, the New Unity Centre. His grandfather was a brother of Abdallāh āli al- Farsy’s father, Jābir b. āli b. Qāsim. B48 Fatawi Fatawi Issa (b. Musa b. Hasan b. al-ājj b. al-Khaīb al-Shirāzī), born 1900 in Nganani/Makunduchi, studied the Qur ān with Mzee Chooko, later became a student of asan b. Amīr as well as Muammad b. Abdallāh b. Wazīr; worked as a government Qur ānic teacher and Qā ī in Zanzibar South (Kusini), was appointed Kadi Mkuu of Zanzibar in 1964, died in 1987. According to some local voices, he was not interested in politics and was rather appointed to the office of the Chief Qā ī by Karume who wanted to have a ‘quiet’ man in this position (IC26, 27.5.2004; see al-Farsy 1972: 65 and Hamza Zubeir Rijaal in: Maarifa, 5, 16.3.-14.4. 2002: Sheikh Fatawi: Aliitwa jina hilo kwa kujiba mas’ala/’Sheikh Fatawi: he was called by this name as he used to give [legal] responses to questions’). B49 al-Fayal Sayf b. umūd, was Deputy President of the Arab Association; he edited al-Falaq from 1949-1950 (see chapter 2). B50 al-Filānī Muammad b. Khalfān ‘Haji Suwedi’ (1855-1942), a student of Abdallāh Bā Kathīr and Sha ūrī b. al-ājj, biographical dictionary 571

a Qādirī scholar and teacher of, amongst others, Sulaymān b. Muammad al- Alawī Jamal al-Layl (see al-Farsy 1972: 38 and chapter 3). B51 al-Ghaythī an important family of Omani origin, scholars and businessmen, Ibā ī; Sa īd b. Nāir al-Ghaythī, for instance, was Ibā ī Qā ī in Zanzibar in the 1930s. B52 al-Ghaythī Sa īd b. Rashīd b. Sālim al-Ghaythī born 1882, was Ibā ī Qā ī since 1942 and a member of the 1945 Committee on Religious Teaching; he retired in 1953 (ZNA AB 86/139). B53 al-Ghaythi Harith b. Khelef b. Khamis, Muftī of Zanzibar since 2001, was born in 1927 in Muyuni, a village in southern Unguja near Makunduchi, primary education Muyuni, a student at the Muslim Academy since 1954. Since 1958, he studied at al-Azhar on a grant organized by Alī Musin al-Barwānī (IC92, 2.9.2002). At al-Azhar, he initially studied tafsīr, fiqh, adīth, taw īd, na w, Arabic literature, ta rīkh and maānī, then, from 1959-1963, Islamic culture, administration and translation. He graduated with an al-alyā degree (i.e. a B.A.). He also taught in Nyas- saland at the Africa Muhammadan Schools Associa- tion (ZNA AD 20/74). B54 al-a ramī Rashīd b. āmid (‘Mmakonde’), a student of Sālim b. Sa īd b. Sayf al-Shuhaybī who continued his work in the Jamīat al-islāmiyya (see below). Rashīd b. āmid’s father, Sa īd b. Abdallāh Lindi ‘Mmakonde’, was born in Lindi in 1886, came to Zanzibar in 1910 and died in 1962. Rashīd b. āmid ‘al-a ramī Mmakonde’ was known, in the early 1960s, as a Salafī ‘radical’ (see al-Farsy 1972: 40 and chapter 3). B55 al-a ramī Abdallāh b. Muammad, was a member of the ajj- committee and of the 1952 education commission (see chapters 2 and 6). B56 al-a ramī Abū l-asan b. Amad al-addār, from Mombasa, became Shāfi ī Qā ī of Wete in 1953, until 1964, he died in1982 (see chapter 7). B57 Hamad Seif Shariff, from Pemba, a prominent member of the ASP/CCM, who was regarded as a liberal ‘frontliner’. He acted, since 1977, as Minister of Education under the Aboud Jumbe and later became a member of CCM’s national (Tanzania) committee. Aboud Jumbe’s successor Ali Hassan Mwinyi appointed Hamad Seif Shariff Deputy-Prime Minister of Zanzi- bar, but he was dismissed from this office by Abdul Wakil in 1987 and excluded from the CCM in 1988. Between 1989 and 1991, he was in prison, then founded the Civic United Front (CUF) that became Zanzibar’s most important opposition party in the 1990s (see Crozon 1998 and Mapuri 1996 as well as chapter 2). 572 biographical dictionary

B58 Hanga Abdallah Kassim, b. 1932, the Vice-General Secretary of the Youth League, and leading member of the Zan- zibar African Youth Movement, co-founder of the ASU in 1957. He studied at the Teachers’ Training College, then taught at primary schools until 1958, when he went to London, to study at the London School of Economics; he wanted to continue his studies in the USA but did not get a visa. In 1960, he thus went to Moscow where he met and married Lidya Oliverovna Golden, the daughter of an American couple that had migrated to the Soviet Union in 1930. He returned to Zanzibar in 1961 to become Deputy Secretary General of the ASP. He also was a founding member of the ASU in 1957, together with Karume, Ibrahim Saadalla, Thabit Kombo, Ameir Tajo and Othman Sharif (Clayton 1981: 60, Mapuri 1996: 20 and Wilson 1989: 164). In September 1969, he was executed after an alleged coup against Karume. al-Hanzawanī (also: al-Hinzwanī), a family of scholars of Comorian (Nzuwani/Anjouan) origin. B59 al-Hanzawanī Muammad b. Abdallāh al-Hanzawanī (1864-1927), was a student of Abdallāh Bā Kathīr, and later became imām of Gofu mosque (al-Farsy 1972: 40). B60 al-Hanzawanī Muammad Amad al-Hanzawanī was a member of the Arab Association. al-arthī (also: al-Harthy), a family of Omani origin in Zanzi- bar. B61 al-arthī Abdallāh b. Sulaymān al-arthī b. 1886, was the leader of the Arab Association for most of the 1920s-1950s, and a member of the milad al-nabi association since 1962. According to British intelligence reports, Abdallāh b. Sulaymān al-arthī was ‘one of the most influential Arabs in Zanzibar. He formerly allowed himself to be led by Alī Musin and other extremists, but now distrusts them’. He was also seen by the British as an unofficial banker for many Omani Arabs in Zanzibar (PRO CO 822/1379), and became rather wealthy in that position (IC26, 25.5.2005). In 1965, Abdallāh b. Sulaymān al-arthī was deported from Zanzibar (Clayton 1981: 123). B62 al-arthī Abdallāh b. amūd al-arthī was a member of the Arab Association. B63 imīd Mwalimu imīd b. Abdallāh, studied with Abdallāh āli al-Farsy (IC73, 5.9.2002; IC26, 3.9.2002 and 25.5.2004) and Abūbakr Bā Kathīr. He was of Como- rian origin and became a famous teacher of the Qur ānic (children’s classes) at Barza mosque in the 1950s and 1960s as well as khaīb of Jibrili mosque. Together with Sulaymān (b. Muammad) al- Alawī biographical dictionary 573

Jamal al-Layl (see below) he was the leading teacher at Barza when Abdallāh Mu adhdhin, who had been accepted in this role, died in the early 1960s. In 1970, Mwalimu imīd emigrated and later died in Dar es Salaam, while Mu allim Bā Kathīr took over both his class and Barza (see chapter 9). B64 Himid Yusuf, ASP Youth League, one of the leading revolutionaries, after the revolution he became a leader of the ‘People’s Liberation Army’. B65 imīd Rajab, a religious scholar of Comorian origin, taught as a primary school teacher in Makunduchi, member of the 1945 Committee on Religious Teaching. He also translated parts of the Qur ān into Kiswahili (IC26, 25.5.2004). B66 al-usaynī Amad b. Alī b. ‘Mwinyi Mkuu’ (alias Sayyid Manab) (1863-1927), born in Unguja, of a royal Comorian family (see chapter 3; Bang 2003: 135; IC26, 13.8.2007). B67 al-usaynī āmid (b. Amad) Manab al-usaynī (1901-65), was a son of Amad b. Alī al-usaynī Manab. B68 al-usaynī Amad b. āmid (b. Amad) Manab al-usaynī (1928-77), was a son of āmid (b.) Manab, educated at the government boys’ secondary school, studied in the ribā of Tarīm for nine years, concentrating on all aspects of religious studies. He was a preacher and Imām of the juma mosque in Forod- hani, and was hired, in 1960, on a permanent basis as teacher at the Muslim Academy (ZNA AB 23/17; see chapters 3 and 8). B69 al-usaynī Abū Bakr b. Abd al-Ramān al-usaynī alias ‘Sayyid Manab’ (1828/9-17.4.1922), was a scholar from Lamu and head of a second ‘Manab’ family. He was born in Lamu, studied 1885 in Mecca with, amongst others, Amad Zaynī Dalān, and in Hadramaut, where he was a student of Aydarūs b. Umar al- ibshī and Abd al-Ramān b. Muammad al-Mash- hūr. After returning to East Africa, he was appointed Qā ī of Dar es Salaam by Sultan Mājid and continued to act in this role and as Qā ī of Lamu under Sultan Bargash. In 1896, he was appointed Qā ī of Chwaka in Unguja/Zanzibar by Sultan amūd. He also taught in Chwaka and allegedly introduced witr and tarāwī prayers in Unguja. One of his students was Abdallāh Bā Kathīr, who studied the durar al-bahiyya with him. He died in Lamu (see al-Farsy 1972: 22 and Hamza Zubeir Rijaal in Maarifa 10, 11.8.-10.9.2002: Mjue Sayyid Abu Bakr bin Abdur-Rahman al- Husayn). B70 al-usaynī Muammad Manab al-usaynī (1879-1964), was a son of Abū Bakr b. Abd al-Ramān Manab. He was 574 biographical dictionary

born in Lamu, lived for most of his life in Zanzibar close to the Mchangani mosque (Mlandege) and died in Unguja. He was buried close to the juma mosque in Malindi/Zanzibar (see al-Farsy 1972: 23; IC26, 30.7.2003 and 25.5.2005). B71 al-usaynī Amad b. usayn b. al-Shaykh Abī Bakr b. Sālim al-usaynī died 1964/1385, was buried in the same tomb as Amad b. Sumay at the Malindi Friday mosque. B72 Haji usayn founder of the first political party in Zanzibar, the izb al-Waan li-Riāyā Sulān, the ‘National Party of the Sultan’s People’, in 1955, then joined the ZNP, which again kept the nickname ‘hizbu’ (see ‘Babu’ 1991: 223, Lodhi, 1986: 413 and Mapuri 1996: 17; chapter 2). B73 Iddi Burhan, mudīr of the Madrasat Hidāyat al-Islāmiyya in Raha Leo (Ng’ambo). B74 Issa Ali Sultan (al-Ismā īlī/al-Esmaili), was from a well- known family from Pemba, a leading revolutionary and a friend of ‘Babu’. He became the chief representative of the ZNP in Cairo and opened ZNP offices in Havanna and London. He organized 18 scholarships for studies in Cuba where he visited in 1962 (Burgess 2002a: 23). From 1972-78, he was in prison for alleged participation in Karume’s assassination. He was in prison again in 1982/83, but still lived in Zanzibar in 2007. B75 Ja far Khamisi, a prominent representative of the watu wa bidaa in the late 1980s and early 1990s, see chapter 3 and Purpura 1997. B76 Jahadhmī Alī Amad, was born 16 June 1916 in Lamu, Kenya, of Arab origin, a good football player. From 1925-32, he attended primary school in Zanzibar, from 1933- 35 the TTC. In 1936, he joined the Kenya Educational Service (Mombasa), but went to Britain in 1948, where he became lecturer for KiSwahili in Oxford and Cambridge. He also studied at the Institute of Education in London, then, in Oxford and Cam- bridge. In 1952, he was appointed education officer in Kenya; returned to Zanzibar in 1955 and again taught at the TTC as Assistant Education Officer from 27 July 1955. Also, he became the Supervisor for Arab Schools. In 1958/59, he got a British council scholarship for teaching of English as a foreign language in Edinburgh. In 1959/60, he was appointed administration officer in the DoE Headquarters in Zanzibar, and became ‘Zanzibarization Officer’ in 1962. As ZO, he was in charge of the ‘Zanzibariza- tion’ of the civil service. Since 1 May 1964 he again worked in the Education Department. He wrote a number of poems in English and started the first English by Radio Service in Zanzibar (IC26, biographical dictionary 575

25.5.2004, ZNA AB 86/29 and ZNA AD 49/24). B77 Jahadhmī Abdallāh āli Jahadhmī was born on 6 June 1913. Started government service on 14 January 1935, then acquired a teachers’ professional certificate in Cam- bridge (English) and London (English). He was appointed education officer in 1963. His last personal report recorded: ‘his main subject is English, he is moderately successful at secondary level’. There was no real criticism of his work, though: ‘Sh. Salehs main weakness is in the sphere of Oman relations, he does not get on with people easily and is very inclined to put people’s backs up. He is somewhat limited in his experience and it is not thought that he will have many ideas on the teaching of English’ (ZNA AD 49/9 and AD49/18). Jamal al-Layl was a family of religious scholars in Lamu, Zanzibar and Hadramaut. B78 Jamal al-Layl Alī b. Abdallāh b. asan Jamal al-Layl (1825-1915), was a teacher of Abdallāh Bā Kathīr. The family was originally from the Comoros but settled in Lamu in the times of Sultan Mājid, then moved to Zanzibar (see al-Farsy 1972: 23). B79 Jamal al-Layl Abū l-asan b. Amad Jamal al-Layl (1888-1959), was a student of Sa īd b. Damān and Amad b. Sumay. Abū l-asan Jamal al-Layl was born in Madagascar, he came to Zanzibar in 1892 (see al- Farsy 1972: 60 and chapter 3). He studied and taught in many different mosques in Unguja and Pemba. He was a khalīfa of the Qādiriyya, yet, remained independent of most branches of the Qādiriyya. After memorizing the Qur ān, he studied with famous scholars such as Sa īd b. Damān. He focussed fiqh, lugha, na w, arf, maānī, bayān and ‘mashairi’ (poetry). He taught in mosques and in his home and became a teacher at the first government school in Forodhani, then, from 1923, he was teacher at the GCS. Abū l-asan Jamal al-Layl also fought against the Amadiyya and ‘explained the dangers of Makadiyani to the population’ (Mwongozi, 7.8.1959). In 1927, he established the jumiyya al-sunniyya, a reformist association, with Sayyid Manab b. Alī, Īsā b. Alī al-Barwānī and Abūbakar b. Abdallāh Bā Kathīr (Mwongozi, 14.8.1959; IC73, 18.3.2003). B80 Jamal al-Layl Muafa Ja far Jamal al-Layl (1896-1960), was a student of Sa īd b. Damān and Amad b. Sumay as well as Abū l-asan b. Amad Jamal al-Layl (see al- Farsy 1972: 61). He taught at the Masjid ‘Nambar’ (behind the CCM headquarters) and was the ‘unofficial banker’ of the ‘Comorians’ (IC26, 25.5.2004). B81 Jamal al-Layl Muammad b. Alawī Jamal al-Layl (1886-1962), was a student of Sa īd b. Damān and Amad b. Sumay 576 biographical dictionary

(see al-Farsy 1972: 60). B82 Jamal al-Layl asan b. ‘Shaykh’ Jamal al-Layl was a teacher in Ndi- jani, a member of the 1945 Committee on Religious Teaching. His son, Wajih Sheikh, was employed in the Kiswahili service of the ‘Deutsche Welle’ in Cologne (IC26, 25.5.2004). B83 Jamal al-Layl Alawī b. Abd al-Wahhāb Jamal al-Layl (1902-60), was a teacher of Abdallāh āli al-Farsy and a student of Muammad b. Abd al-Ramān al-Makhzūmī (al-Farsy 1972: 40). He taught at Barza and led prayers at Mskiti Rajab (behind the Majestic Cinema in Vuga) where he also had a darsa. He was the father of Abd al-Wahhāb Alawī Abd al-Wahhāb. B84 Jamal al-Layl Sulaymān (b. Muammad b. Sulaymān b. Sa īd) al- Alawī Jamal al-Layl (b. 1900 in Mtetema-Najale, Northern Unguja, died 4 April 1970), a famous scholar of the Jamal al-Layl family who taught until his death in 1970, a student of Muammad b. Khalfān al-Filānī (1855-1945), one of the major scholars of the Qādiriyya who was again a student of Abdallāh Bā Kathīr. Other teachers were Musin b. Alī al-Barwānī, Abū Bakr b. Abdallāh Bā Kathīr, Amad Muammad Mlomry and Umar b. Sumay. With Muammad b. Khalfān he studied Arabic, adab, uūl al-dīn, fiqh, taawwuf, na w, arf and balāgha; with Musin b. Alī al-Barwānī he studied tafsīr, adīth, taawwuf, maniq and na w; with Abū Bakr b. Abdallāh Bā Kathīr he studied tafsīr, taawwuf, adīth, muala al- adīth and the major Alawī texts; with Amad Muammad Mlomry he studied fiqh, adīth, qaīda and mad ; with Umar b. Sumay he studied taawwuf, adīth and the major compendia of Shāfi ī fiqh. These teachers had again studied with Abdallāh Bā Kathīr. Other teachers were, according to his ijāza, Muammad b. Abdallāh b. āhir b. Sumay in Dar es Salaam, Sālim b. āfi' b. Sālim, Zayn b. asan Balfaqīh, Amad Mashhūr b. āhā al-addād, Alī b. asan al- Aās in Hadramaut, Abd al-Qādir b. Tawfīq al-Tarabalsī and Aydarūs b. Alawī al-Saqqāf in Medina, Abūbakr b. Amad al-abshī, āli b. Abībakr al-Shaā , Hāshim b. Abdallāh al-Shaā , Abūbakr b. Sālim, Alawī b. Abbās al-Mālikī in Mecca, Muammad al-Salāmah al-Subkī in Egypt and Muammad Abd al- Ālim al-adīq al-Bakrī in Dar es Salaam. He transmitted his own knowledge in his house, as well as in the Madrasat Bā Kathīr, in Gofu and Barza mosques for more than 30 years. He also visited al-Azhar and had discussions with al-Azhar scholars. He became famous for his knowledge in ibb. In 1960, he was biographical dictionary 577

hired, as a temporary teacher, at the Muslim Acad- emy. His students were, amongst others, āmid b. Amad Manab, Abdallāh āli al-Farsy (who did not mention him, though, in his text on East African scholars), Ma alim imīd, Abū Bakr ‘Shibli’ b. Umar Qullatayn, Alī b. Umar Qullatayn, Sayyid Umar Abdallāh, Harith b. Khelef al-Ghaythi and others. Personally, he was regarded as hot-tempered, ‘kali’, and a man who did not hold back with critique (ZNA AD 23/17, see also Mw. Idris in Dira, 15.8.-21.8.2003: Sheikh Sulayman al-Alawi 1900-1970; Sameja 2003; IC82, 21.2.2003; IC73, 25.2. and 27.2.2003; IC4, 2.3.2003; see also chapters 7, 8 and 9). B85 Jamal al-Layl Abd al-Wahhāb b. Alawī b. Abd al-Wahhāb Jamal al-Layl was from Chuini, north of Zanzibar Town. He was the former Director of City Planning in the Ministry of Lands and a Qā ī in Zanzibar Town, studied in Makerere from 1951 and went to al-Azhar for some time. B86 Jivanji Yusufali Esmailji, the President of the Indian National Association, took part in the debates on the first religious studies curriculum since 1916. He was a leading member of the Khōja community (see chapters 5 and 6). B87 Jivanji Tayyibali Ismailji Jivanji another member of the Indian National Association, was represented in the milad al-nabi association since 1962 (see chapter 2). B88 Kali asan Alī, director of the Madrasat al-Īmān in the Malindi quarters, but also an artist: he played guitar in the ikhwān al-afā taarab band (IC26, 25.5.2004). B89 Karimji Seth Yusufali A., a Bohora entrepreneur and an influential member of the Indian National Association who built the Mnaji Mmoja (Karimji, later: Lenin) hospital. B90 Karume Abeid Amani, Zanzibar’s first revolutionary Presi- dent, was born on 4 August 1905 in Pongwe, c. 15 kilometres to the east of Zanzibar Town. His father came from Malawi, his mother from Rwanda. He had 28 months of primary school education, left school at 15 and became a sailor in 1920. In 1938, he returned to Zanzibar and started to organize African boatmen and small boat owners in a shore launch service syndicate (Clayton 1981: 17). He was also active, since 1933, in the African football club, the Wafalme Wapya, the ‘New Kings Football Club’. In the 1950s, he was member of the ajj-commission and some education commissions. In 1957, he became the leader and co-founder of the Afro Shirazi Union, from 1964-1972, he was President of Zanzibar and Vice-President of Tanzania. He was assassinated in 578 biographical dictionary

1972 (see Mwanjisi 1967; see also chapter 2). B91 Kermalli M.D., member of an influential Indian family, and of the ajj-committee in the 1950s. Khalfān Muammad al-Filānī, see al-Filānī. B92 Khalfan Rashid, was a leader of the Tablighi Jamaat branch of Zanzibar in the 1990s (see Constantin 1995, Lacunza Balda 1997 as well as Grandin 1998). B93 al-Kharūbī Muammad b. Abdallāh, was a member of the Arab Association in Unguja. al-Kharūī a family of Omani origin, Ibā ī. B94 al-Kharūī Yayā b. Khalfān al-Kharūī was Ibā ī Qā ī under Sultan Bargash. B95 al-Kharūī Amad Sayf (Ahmed Seif) b. Nāir al-Kharūī was an assistant to L.W. Hollingsworth at the GSS, a member of the Arab Association and editor of Mwongozi since 1961. After 1964, he wrote two books on Zanzi- bar after the revolution (see bibliography and chapters 2 and 7). B96 al-Kharūī Su ūd Muammad al-Kharūī b. 1911, was educated at the American University in Beirut, later the Uni- versity Hospital in London, became assistant dental surgeon in Zanzibar in 1940, then dental surgeon in 1950 in the colonial health service of Zanzibar. B97 al-Khaīb (also: al-Khatibu), Muammad b. Umar (1876-1957), also called Bwana wa Shankani (his place of birth), was, since 1898 a student of Abdallāh Bā Kathīr (see chapters 3 and 9). al-Kindī (also: al-Kindy, Kinde), a family of Omani origin; B98 Kinde Sālim Kinde was a member of the Arab Association in Unguja and a member of the LegCo in the 1920s. B99 al-Kindī Sa īd Muammad al-Kindī was born 1923 in Masqa, Oman, came to Zanzibar in 1953, studied under Muammad b. Sa īd al-Kindī, as well as under the imām of Oman, was employed as a teacher at the Muslim Academy, on a temporary basis from 1955, on a full basis from 1960, became ‘Ibā ī’ teacher in 1963 (ZNA AB 23/17, see chapters 2 and 8). B100 Kombo Mamūd b. Kombo, was a religious leader of the Qādiriyya in Makunduchi who led, in 1949, a protest march from Makunduchi to Zanzibar town to protest against the anti-‘zikri’-polemics of Abdallāh āli al- Farsy. He got an ijāza from asan b. Amīr in 1959; died in 1968. His successor in his madrasa and zāwiya was Yūsuf b. Sa īd b. Sulaymān. Like asan b. Amīr, Mamūd b. Kombo could be regarded as one of the neglected ‘shamba’ scholars of Zanzibar, who has escaped attention of the academic public, as he did seemingly not belong to the ‘urban’ tradition of Islamic scholarship. Mamūd b. Kombo featured, thus, only once in the records of the colonial period, when urban scholars discovered him as an opponent biographical dictionary 579

in their struggle against un-Islamic innovations, in particular the zikri ya dufu practices (see chapter 7). At the same time, Mamūd b. Kombo was a founding member of the Shirazi Association in Makunduchi in 1936 and joined the ZPPP in 1959. He also ran for the Makunduchi seat in the 1963 elections for the ZPPP but lost against the candidate of the ASP (Ameir 2006: 359-60). Despite his fight against Abdallāh āli al-Farsy, Mamūd b. Kombo continued to teach his disciples in Makunduchi and raised Yūsuf b. Sa īd b. Sulaymān from Kilwa as his successor, who still led, in 2004, the zāwiya of Mamūd b. Kombo in Makunduchi-Kajwenga/Binguni. Yūsuf b. Sa īd b. Sulaymān has expanded the zāwiya and added a school building to the zāwiya, which acco- modates, in the old zāwiya building, the grave of Mamūd b. Kombo (visits 2003 and 2004). Mamūd b. Kombo seems to have gained the attention of the authorities only one other time, in a rather unspec- tacular way, though, in 1963, when he wrote a letter on behalf of his son (16.8.1963) to the Minister of Education, asking to support the application of his son at the Muslim Academy: ‘Mtoto wangu Msabbah Haji amemaliza chumba cha VIII skuli ya Makun- duchi toka mwaka 1961, bwana nataka unipatiye nafasi kwa utu (ulu) kufu wako skuli ya Muslim Academi iliako mjini ili aendelee na masomo yake`. The response was that students were selected by the Principal of the Muslim Academy and that all applicants would be treated equally, his son would thus have to pass an entrance examination (27.8.1963, letter Maulidi M. Haji, ministry of education and welfare, copy to Sulaymān Muammad Alawī Jamal al- Layl, Acting Director of the Muslim Academy, ZNA AD 23/7). B101 Kombo Thabit (1904-1986), from Kizimkazi, went to school in Zanzibar/Forodhani, worked on a ship from 1923-1930, then as a bicycle trader in Zanzibar until 1939, then as an employee for the Clove Growers’ Association until 1953; became manager of the Shirazi Association Cooperative Stores as well as a founding member of the Shirazi Association in Unguja (1941) and the ASUYL in 1957, took part in the revolution and became a member of the Union parliament in 1964 and chairman of the constituent assembly for the development of the constitution, then was minister (trade) in the Karume government. From 1972, he was speaker of the ASP/CCM (see Mdundu: 1996; chapter 2). B102 Lakha Amad M.H., member of an influential Ithnā ashara 580 biographical dictionary

Indian family, was represented in the milad al-nabi association since 1962, close to the ZNP. (al-)Lamkī (also: Lemke, Lemki), a family of Omani origin, had good contacts with Egypt that had been established by B103 Lamkī Sulaymān b. Nāir Lamkī who acted as regent during the Sultan’s absences. B104 Lamkī Nāir b. Sulaymān Lamkī was a member of the Arab Association. B105 Lamkī Amad (b. Muammad b. Nāir) Lamkī was a member of the Arab Association, had been in charge of the Swahili programme at Radio Cairo in Egypt. From 1953, he was editor of the Arabic section of al- Falaq, ‘al-Murshid’; equally, he was one of the founders of the ZNU in 1953 (Clayton 1981: 39, al-Barwānī 1996: 99; Lodhi 1986: 413; chapter 2). B106 Lamkī Muammad b. Nāir Lamkī was a member of the Arab Association in Unguja and member of the Advisory Council of Education in 1920; he edited al- Falaq from 1945-1949. B107 Lamkī Amīr b. Sulaymān Lamkī was a trader and a liwali (local representative) of the Sulān in Bagamoyo; one of his slaves, Yayā b. Abdallāh ‘Shaykh Ramiya’, established a branch of the Qādiriyya in Bagamoyo that spread throughout Tanganyika (Nimtz 1980: 59). B108 Lamkī ārith b. Sulaymān Lamkī was a member of the Arab Association in Unguja. B109 Lamkī Barakat Muammad Lamkī was a member of the Arab Association. al-Ma āmirī (also: Maamery), a family of Omani origin, members of the Arab Association, Ibā ī (see al-Barwānī 1996). B110 al-Ma āmirī Amed amūd al-Ma āmirī was born in Zanzibar in 1928, worked as a teacher until 1961, then went to Cairo for higher education. After graduation, he went to Dubai. Since 1971, he was in Omani government services. He wrote several books on Oman and East African history. al-Ma āmirī Bibi Samīra Sālim Sayf al-Ma āmirī see chapter 7. B111 Mahfudh (properly: Mafū'), Ali Said, a leading Umma member and revolutionary; after 1964, he was in command, together with Yusuf Himid, of Zanzibar’s ‘People’s Liberation Army’. B112 Makame Hasnu, a moderate member of the revolutionary government of 1964. B113 Makungu Musa (d. 2007), was Principal of the Muslim Academy from 1972 to 1984 and Chief Qā ī of Zanzibar from 1992 to 2006. His deputy as Qā ī and successor as Chief Qā ī was Ali Khatib Mranzi, who had worked at the Chuo Cha Kiislamu from 1972 until the late 1980s as a teacher. biographical dictionary 581

B114 al-Makhzūmī Muammad b. Abd al-Ramān al-Makhzūmī (1877-1946), was a student of Abdallāh Bā Kathīr as well as Lawrence William Hollingsworth. He taught at Barza mosque and was a teacher of Abdallāh āli al-Farsy and āmid b. Manab al-usaynī (see al- Farsy 1972: 39). Manab see al-usaynī. Muammad Taqi, was, in 1960, secretary ( ﺍﻟﻤﺮﻋﺸﻲ ) ashī B115 al-Mar of the Young Arab Union (ZNA AB 1/206). B116 al-Marūbī Sulān Alī al-Mar ashī was born 1931, he attended secondary school in Zanzibar, then studied Arabic at SOAS and in the United States; he also did a Higher Teachers course in Bagdad and studied Arabic, Eng- lish, literature, psychology, philosophy, Islamic history, method of teaching and French. He got a B.A. at the University of Bagdad, taught in Iraq for six months, then returned to Zanzibar and worked in the secretariat as interpreter and correspondence clerk. In 1960, he was hired at the Muslim Academy as a teacher on a permanent basis, but soon created problems as he wanted ‘a position compatible with my present London University Honours Degree’. For ‘absenting himself from duty without leave’ he was dismissed in 1963. He was subsequently employed by the Aden-service from October 1963 (ZNA AD 23/17 and AD 14/33). al-Marūbī Amūr b. Alī: see Ameir Amūr Alī. al-Maulī (properly: al-Ma ūlī), an Arab family in Zanzibar/ Pemba. B117 al-Maulī abīb b. Mbaruk al-Maulī and Abdallāh b. Mbaruk al-Maulī took action against extravagant expenditure in Pemba in 1936 (ZNA AB 30/22). al-Mazrū ī a family of Omani origin, Ibā ī; many family members converted in the 19th century to the Shāfi ī madhhab. The centre of the family was Mombasa, but branches existed in Zanzibar. B118 al-Mazrū ī Alī b. Abdallāh b. Nafi al-Mazrū ī (1825-1894); was a famous scholar from Mombasa. He followed his father on the ajj to Makka in 1836, where he met Amad Zaynī Dalān; returned to Mombasa in 1846 and went on a second ajj in 1854, returned to Mom- basa in 1856. He was appointed Qā ī in 1856 and worked in this position until 1870, then taught in Mombasa but also visited Pemba and Unguja. He wrote a number of texts such as a shar on the dalā il al-khayrāt as well as a short translation of the ahl badr prayer. He had many important students (see al-Farsy 1972: 9-14). B119 al-Mazrū ī al-Amīn b. Alī al-Mazrū ī (1890-1947), a student of Abdallāh Bā Kathīr, and a teacher of Abdallāh āli 582 biographical dictionary

al-Farsy, author of hidāyat al-afāl and many other religious and didactic texts, Chief Qā ī of Kenya (see chapter 3) and father of: B120 al-Mazrū ī Muammad Qāsim b. Alī al-Mazrū ī who became Chief Qā ī of Kenya in 1953 until 30 April 1968, when Abdallāh āli al-Farsy became his successor; both al-Farsy and Muammad Qāsim b. Alī al-Mazrū ī had studied with Shaykh al-Amīn (al- Farsy 1972: 42/43 and chapters 3 and 7 ). B121 Mfarinyaki Abdallah, was a close associate of John Okello, originally from the Songea area in Tanganyika, a WWII veteran and a carpenter, a leading member of the ASP and a leading revolutionary, feared for his arbitrary actions (Okello 1967/71 and Clayton 1981: 123). Miskirī (also: Meskiri, Miskiri, Maskery, Maskiri), a leading Arab family in Zanzibar; B122 al-Miskirī Sālim b. Alī b. Amūr al-Miskirī was a member of the Arab Association in Pemba. B123 al-Miskirī Hāshil b. Rashīd al-Miskirī was a secretary of the Arab Association and a member of the ajj-committee in the 1950s; he was the first editor of al-Falaq from 1925-1931 and again, in 1949 and 1952-1953. B124 Mkelle Burhān b. Muammad Mkelle (al-Mukallā) al- Qumurī (al-Qumrī; 1884-1949), a religious scholar, was a student of Amad b. Sumay and one of the first local government school teachers (1908-39), wrote poems and texts on mad and na w, amongst others, tamrīn al-afāl, the major textbook for learning Arabic at Zanzibar’s government schools. Burhān Mkelle also was a prominent member the Shādhiliyya (see al-Farsy 1972: 63; IC26, 25.5.2004). B125 Mkelle Muammad b. Burhān Mkelle was born on 3 Novem- ber 1920 (d. 14.2.1999), a son of Burhān Mkelle. Born in Malindi, Zanzibar, went to primary school, then secondary school, in 1937, he graduated from middle school with distinction, then, in 1940, from secondary school; studied Arabic and Koran with his father, then was employed by the BBC, studied broadcasting. Returned to Zanzibar in 1950 and became speaker of Sauti ya Unguja (Radio Zanzibar, until 1960), then was, until 1963, ‘head of programme’ of Sauti ya Unguja. From 1964-69, he worked for the Zanzibari government in a number of ministries (local/provincial administration, internal affairs, health). In 1971, he was appointed director of the Taasisi Institute at the University of Dar es Salaam, where he was in charge of research and Kiswahili studies. He also worked as a lexicographer and translator until 1978, then joined the Chuo cha Lugha za Kigeni (ACRONA) in Zanzibar (until 1981). He moved biographical dictionary 583

again to the mainland, then worked, from 1983-85, as a teacher of Kiswahili in Japan. In 1985, he went for a short time to Libya as a Swahili teacher and retired in 1985 to live in Dar es Salaam close to the mnara wa saa (clock tower) in Nkrumah/Uhuru Street (an- Nuur, 9.-15.7. 2004 and ZNA AD 8/23). B126 ‘al-Mlomry’, Muammad b. Amad al-Mlomry (al-Muronī, d. 1897) was a student of Muyī al-Dīn al-Qaānī and Sayyid Amad b. Sālim. At the same time, he was a teacher of Amad b. Alī al-usaynī ‘Manab’ (al- Farsy 1972: 37; IC26, 29.8.2007, see also chapter 4.3, text 49). B127 ‘al-Mlomry’ his son Amad b. Muammad ‘Mlomry’ (al-Muronī, 1873-1936), was a student of Abdallāh Bā Kathīr, who travelled to Syria and Egypt where he met Muammad Abduh; he was a teacher of Abdallāh āli al-Farsy in tafsīr (al-jalālayn), had a darsa in Vikokotoni and at Barza. B128 Mmalindi Muammad b. Qāmūs b. Faqīh (1899-1969), was a student of Sa īd b. Damān. B129 Moyo Hassan Nasser; was a member of the revolutionary government of 1964. After 1967 he was responsible for land reallocation policies; a follower of ‘Babu’ (Clayton 1981: 138). B130 Mranzi Ali Khatib (d. 2008), a mainlander and Deputy Chief Qā ī of Zanzibar since 1992. Since 1972, he was a teacher at the Muslim Academy. In 2006, he became the new Chief Qā ī of Zanzibar. was a well known ,( ﺍﻟﺒﻐﻮﻱ ) Abdallāh al-Baghwī B131 Mu adhdhin Qur ānic school teacher at Barza mosque, a friend of ‘Mwalimu’ imīd (see chapter 9). Abdallāh Mu adhdhin also taught at the Darajani government primary school. He died in the Comoros in 1973 (IC26, 25.5.2004; 13.8.2007). al-Mughayrī (Mugheiry), a family of Omani origin in Zanzibar. B132 al-Mughayrī Sa īd b. Alī al-Mughayrī was a member of the Arab Association, took action in 1936 against ‘extravagant expenditure’ in Pemba; he was closely linked with the British administration and the Sultan (ZNA AB 30/22). B133 al-Mughayrī Sulān b. Khamīs al-Mughayrī was Principal of the first Commercial School from 1925 and a member of the Arab Association. B134 al-Mughayrī Alī b. Sulān al-Mughayrī was the only member of the Arab Association who did not join the boycott of the LegCo but kept his seat in the LegCo between 1954 and 1956. He was assassinated in 1956 by Muammad amūd al-Barwānī (Clayton 1981: 39). B135 al-Mughayrī Muammad b. Sa īd al-Mughayrī was a member of the ajj-committee in the 1950s. 584 biographical dictionary

B136 al-Mughayrī Muammad b. Sulān b. Khamīs al-Mughayrī was a Makerere graduate (1950) (see chapter 2). Mū īnī usayn b. Abdallāh al-Mū īnī (Mwinyi; see chapter 3). al-Mundhirī (also: Mandhiri, Mendhiri, Mendhry), a family of Omani origin in Zanzibar, members of the Arab Association, Ibā ī. B137 al-Mundhirī Alī b. Muammad al-Mundhirī was an Ibā ī religious scholar and a member of the Advisory Board on Edu- cation in 1923. He acted as Ibā ī Qā ī and died in 1925. He was the author of al-adyān fī talīm al-sibyān, a major Ibā ī text for teaching in government schools. His father Muammad b. Sulaymān al-Mundhirī had been Ibā ī Qā ī under Sultan Barghash (see Bang 2003: 154). B138 Musa Saidi (b. Kisaka b. Kilomboche b. Torogha b. Mka- sirwa b. Mkule) was born in 1943 in Simbom near Ugweno, Northern Pare, on the way to Moshi (personal communication, 19.8.2004). He went to Qur ānic and primary school (1951-59) in Simbom/ Ugweno. His teachers in Ugweno were usayn Mas- anza and Amad Sa īd al-a birī at the Msangeni Muslim school, Yūsuf Abubakar at home, Ramadhani Saiboko at the Kilindini Primary School and Sha bān Rashīd Mswia at the Male Qur ānic Vocational Col- lege. This shaykh arranged Saidi Musa’s move to Zan- zibar to the Muslim Academy, in 1960, where he became a student in the evening classes of Abdallāh āli al-Farsy until 1967, when al-Farsy left Zanzibar. At the same time, he continued his secondary education in Zanzibar at the Muslim Academy (1960-June 1966), where he was taught, amongst others, by Sulaymān Alawī Jamal al-Layl, Sayyid Umar Ab- dallāh, Amad āmid Manab, Alī Amad Badawī, Amad Zayn, Amad al-Sirrī, Sa īd Muammad al-Mar ashī and Abdallāh Muammad al-a ramī. In addition, he attended the evening classes of Mamūd Abdallāh, Mamūd Makadara, Shaykh Ramadhani and Shaykh Abbās (Makunduchi). In 1968, Saidi Musa left Zanzibar and settled in Dar es Salaam, where he worked, from 1968-1992, as ‘shoe checker, Assistant Personnel Officer, Transport Officer and Administrative and Welfare Officer at the Tanzania Shoe Co. Ltd., Bora Shoes’ on Nyerere Road. In that period of time, he also attended courses on personnel management, production management and adult teaching methodology. At the same time, he started his dawa activities, published numerous texts (138 according to van de Bruinhorst, 2 April 2005, although only 40 have been published) among them a biography of his teacher, Abdallāh āli al- biographical dictionary 585

Farsy, and became an outspoken representative of the ‘radical’ reformist movement in Tanzania. In the late 1970s, he started to publicly support the Iranian revolution and the importance of ‘Islamic policies’: ‘A Muslim must be a politician in order to be able to direct the affairs of an Islamic government’ (Mwais- lamu anatakiwa awe mwanasiasa ili aweze kuendesha mambo ya serikali ya Kiislamu, Lacunza Balda 1989: 253). Although his home in Simbom was registered as the ‘Shaykh Saidi Musa Islamic Development Cen- tre’ (SSMIDC), his permanent home was his house in Swahili Street, Kariakoo, Dar es Salaam (close to the corner of Mkunguni Street). Every Friday, he gave a sermon in the Manyema mosque (in Mafia street, an old mosque established in 1912) or the Qiblatayn mosque (in Zigua/Mahiwa streets) in Kariokoo that is also home to some Islamic bookshops. Yet, although Saidi Musa has been very active in dawa and influenced a number of radical Muslims in Tan- zania in the 1970s and 1980s, he never became the leader or organizer of a ‘proper’ organization that would have spread his teachings in a more structural way. Only the Umoja wa Wahubiri wa Kiislamu may actually said to have been influenced (yet not directed) by Saidi Musa. For Saidi Musa see Ludwig 1996, Lacunza Balda 1989: 247-57 and ibid. 1997, as well as Constantin 1995; for a general overview see Chande 1998; for recent political conflicts see Njozi 2000 and 2003, Lacunza Balda 1993 and van de Bru- inhorst 2001; for students of Saidi Musa see Musa 1986: 73-4; see also a list of his books on pp 74-5. B139 Musa Ali Sharif, a politician from Pemba; he was the second ‘African’ member of the LegCo in 1947 and became first an ‘independent candidate’, then a member of the ASU, then a prominent member of the ZPPP who later re-joined the ASP (see chapter 2). B140 Nasibu Jamal Ramadhan, editor of Agozi (established 1959, prohibited in 1962), a newspaper close to the ASP and the Zanzibar African Youth Movement, that was led by Jamal Ramadhan Nasibu and Abdallah Kassim Hanga (Glassman 2000a). B141 Naor Muammad, a student of Alī b. Umar Qullatayn (IC26, 25.5.2004). Muammad Naor was born in 1925 in Kibanguni/Makunduchi, and died in 2003 (17.3), he started to go to primary government school in Makunduchi in 1939, then from 1946 went to secondary school, then to the ‘Dole’ TTC from 1946 to 1948, then became a teacher. From 1953 to 1964, he worked for the colonial mudirial administration in Makunduchi, Chwaka, Mkokotoni and Mkoani. In 1964, he became Mudir in Wete, Pemba. After inde- 586 biographical dictionary

pendence, he was appointed ambassador of Zanzibar in New York, then Tanzanian ambassador in Egypt and Sweden. In 1968, he returned to Tanzania and became secretary of the administration in Kigoma, then katibu mkuu (Chief Secretary) in Dar es Salaam in the ministery of construction. He was a student of both Alī b. Umar Qullatayn and Sulaymān al- Alawī Jamal al-Layl; Alī b. Umar Qullatayn initiated him into the Qādiriyya. In 1967, while in Egypt, he visited Bagdad and made a ziyāra to the tomb of Abd al-Qādir al-Jilānī. He also visited Hadramaut, Soma- lia and other Arab countries (see Zanzibar Leo, 17.3.2003, Sheikh Muhammad Nassor al-Qadiry ata- kumbukwa kwa Ucha Mungu na mchango mkubwa katika dini ya Kiislamu). Although Muammad Nas- sor had been affiliated with the Qullatayn branch of the Qādiriyya, he broke this branch and established his own branch (IC3, 11.8.2003; IC26, 26.5.2004). He advanced, amongst others, the idea that women should not be allowed into mosques. This demand can be interpreted as a reaction to a mainland development in the 1980s, when Anār al-Sunna groups allowed women to pray in their mosques and built mosques that provided place for women (IC3, 11.8.2003). B142 Natepe Abdallah Said, a leader of the ASP Youth League, one of the leading revolutionaries, became the first chairman of the ‘young pioneers’ in 1964 (Burgess 1999: 34; 39). B143 Okello John, the first leader (‘Field Marshall’) of the revolution; he was from Anino, Lango district (Uganda), born 1937, came to Zanzibar in 1959. He started to organize the revolution in August 1963 but was expelled from Zanzibar in March 1964 (see Okello 1967/71 and chapter 2). B144 al-Qaānī Muyī al-Dīn b. Abdallāh (1788-1869), born in Brawa, lived in Lamu for some time, then moved to Mombasa and finally Zanzibar where he became Qā ī in the services of Sultan Mājid. He probably was the very founder of Zanzibar’s scholarly tradition in the mid-19th century and a major scholar of the Qādiriyya in mid-19th century Zanzibar and East Africa, a teacher of Abd al- Azīz b. Abd al-Ghanī al-Amawī, Muammad b. Amad b. asan al- ‘Mlomry’, asan b. Yūsuf Mngazaji, Sha ūrī b. al-ājj al-Shirāzī (d. 1925), Sulaymān ayāt and Sālim b. Abī Bakr b. Sālim (see Pouwels 1987: 142; Hamza Zubeir in Maarifa, 9, 12.7.-11.8. 2002: Wanafunzi wa Sheikh Muhyidin b. Sheikh; al-Farsy 1972; Bang 2003: 94; IC26, 13.8.2007). biographical dictionary 587

Qullatayn a family of scholars of Somali origin, important for the establishment of the Qādiriyya in Zanzibar (see chapter 3; IC26, 13.8.2007), in particular, through Qullatayn Umar Qullatayn as well as his sons Muammad b. Umar Qullatayn, Abū Bakr ‘Shibli’ Qullatayn and Alī Qullatayn (who again had a son, Umar), who became the officially registered (at thewaqf commission) imām of Gofu mosque (IC26, 25.5.2004). In 2004, the head of the family was: Qullatayn Umar b. Alī b. Umar Qullatayn (IC26, 25.5.2004, chapter 3 and al-Falaq, 3.6.1939). B145 Qullatayn Amad b. Abī Bakr Qullatayn (alias ‘Ahmad Badawī’), a son of Abū Bakr ‘Shibli’ Qullatayn, was a supporter of ‘Babu’ and member of UMMA, had some junior government positions after 1964, responsible, amongst others, for work, roads and electricity. In 1972, he was imprisoned as being allegedly involved in the assassination of Karume (see Mdundo 1996 and chapters 2 and 3). B146 Rashad Ali, a member of the watu wa bidaa in the 1970s and 1980s, who had studied with al-Farsy but seems to have been disowned by al-Farsy (Purpura 1997: 145- 6, see also chapter 3). a family ,( ﺍﻟﺮﻭﺍﺣﻲ ;al-Rawwāī (also: Ruwwahi, Ruwehi, Ruwihi of religious scholars and rich plantation owners of Omani origin in Zanzibar, Ibā ī. B147 al-Rawwāī Nāir b. Sālim b. Udaym al-Rawwāī 1860-1920, was a famous Ibā ī Qā ī in Zanzibar, he wrote many books and was a teacher of Sulaymān (Muammad) al-Alawī Jamal al-Layl as well as Burhān Mkelle (IC26, 25.5.2004; Bang 2003: 136). B148 al-Rawwāī Muhannā Nāir (Naor) al-Rawwāī (b. 1899), was a member of the Arab Association, son of Udaym, and a respected government primary school teacher. In 1961, he applied for a position at the Muslim Academy and was considered for appointment as ‘Ibā ī’-teacher (see chapter 8). B149 al-Rawwāī Abd al-Ramān Muammad al-Rawwāī was a member of the Arab Association in Unguja. B150 al-Rawwāī Sa īd b. Sālim al-Rawwāī was a member of the Arab Association, he edited al-Falaq from 1951-1952. B151 al-Rawwāī Sālim b. Alī al-Rawwāī was a member of the Arab Association. B152 al-Rawwāī amūd b. Sālim al-Rawwāī was a member of the Arab Association and a member of the milad al-nabi association since 1962. B153 al-Rawwāī Abū Muslim al-Rawwāī was editor of the first Arab newspaper in Zanzibar, al-Najā , as founded in 1911 (chapter 2). B154 Rehani Mtoro Kingo, editor of Afrika Kwetu, a paper close to the ASP, as established in 1948 (appeared until 1964). 588 biographical dictionary

Born in German East Africa, he went to school in Tanganyika in the 1920s and came to Zanzibar as a musician. In the 1930s, he was part of a group of ‘lower status Muslims’ active in sports and social clubs in Ng’ambo/Michenzani who challenged older African Association members, often mainland Chris- tians. In 1947, he took control of the AfA until Abeid Amani Karume assumed this role (Glassman 2000a: 8). He was a co-founder of the ASU in 1957 and became mayor of Zanzibar after the revolution; he was said to succeed Karume in case of the latter’s death, yet, refused, in 1972, as he was too old (IC26, 25.5.2004). B155 Rehema Bibi, was ‘one of the most renowned leaders of the Qādiriyya’s womens’ branches in Zanzibar’ in the 1990s (Purpura 1997: 227; see chapter 3). al-Riyāmī a family of Omani origin and rich plantation owners in Zanzibar, Ibā ī. B156 al-Riyāmī Sa īd b. Muammad al-Riyāmī was a member of the Arab Association in Unguja. B157 al-Riyāmī (Muhammad b.) Mas ūd (Masudi) b. Alī al-Riyāmī or ‘Bwana Udi’, was a member of the Arab Associa- tion, a rich plantation owner, particularly in Pemba. Since 1962, he was a member of the milad al-nabi association (IC26, 25.5.2004; chapter 2). Bwana ‘Udi’ was the most prominent representative of the Riyāmī family in the 20th century. He alone had 71 houses in Stone Town (IC50, 3.8.2004; IC26, 13.8.2007). B158 al-Riyāmī Amad b. Sulaymān al-Riyāmī was a member of the Arab Association and a member of the revolutionary council (IC26, 17.8.2007). B159 al-Riyāmī Sālim b. Alī al-Riyāmī equally was a member of the Arab Association. Sālim (Bin Sālim), was a family of scholars in Unguja from the Comoros. B160 Sālim Amad b. Sālim was born in 1841 in Ngazija (Como- ros, d. 1882). He came to Unguja to become imām of the Forodhani mosque and was appointed Qā ī in 1870 (al-Farsy 1972). B161 Sālim Amad b. Abī Bakr b. usayn b. Sālim (1914-1965), was a student of Sa īd b. Damān. B162 Salim Ahmad Salim, b. 1942, a member of the Umma party, later a politician (CCM) in Tanzania and secretary general of the OAU. B163 Shamte b. Hamadi, Muhammad, born 1907, from Pemba (a ‘Persian’): He was appointed teacher on 12 March 1928. He became a co-founder of the Shirazi Associa- tion in Pemba in 1940. Shamte retired as teacher on 1 April 1957 (ZNA AB 86/46) and became the first Prime Minister of Zanzibar on 24 June 1963 and biographical dictionary 589

President of Zanzibar on 10 December 1963 (see chapter 2). B164 Sharif Ali Musa, from Pemba, became second ‘African’ member of the LegCo in 1947 (Mapuri 1996: 24). He joined the ASU, later split and became a founding member of the ZPPP in 1959, then split off again and rejoined the ASU in 1961 (Bakari 2001: 57). B165 Sharif (Shariff), Othman, b. 1914, a member of the ZNU who later joined and co-founded the ASU/ASP, in 1957, he also was member of a group of Zanzibaris sent to Makerere in 1940 (together with Muammad Alī Awadh, Kassim Hanga and Amad Lamkī). From 1943-7 he worked as Assistant Veterinary Officer, from 1952 as Assistant Agriculture Officer. After the revolution, he became the first Minister of Education (January-April 1964). Othman Sharif was executed in September 1969 (as was Kassim Hanga) after an alleged coup against Karume. B166 Sha ūrī b. al-ājj ‘Mshirazi’, a Qādirī scholar from Tumbatu, also called Shaykh ‘Kirāma’, a student of Shaykh al-Qaānī; was particularly active in the northern parts of Zanzibar where his branch became known as the Kirāma tradition. He died in 1913 and had many students, in particular, Muammad b. Khalfān al- Filānī ‘aji Suwayd’ (Suwedi), who became famous as a scholar in the first half of the 20th century until he died in 1942 (see chapter 3). Other students were al-ājj b. Vuai al-Shirāzī, who died in 1937 and Alī b. Umar al-Shirāzī, who died in 1925 (Nimtz 1980: 48; al-Farsy 1972; Grandin 1998: 331; chapter 3). B167 Shāirī (also: Shatry), Abdallāh b. Muammad al-Shāirī (1865-1960), a student of Abdallāh Bā Kathīr (see al- Farsy 1972: 41). B168 al-Shirāzī Alī b. Umar al-Shirāzī (d. 1925/6), was a leader of the Qādiriyya, whose son was the leader of this branch of the Qādiriyya in Zanzibar until his own death in the 1980s (Nimtz 1980: 59) (see chapter 3). B169 al-Shuhaybī (also: Shehayby, Shihebi), Sālim b. Sa īd b. Sayf al-Shuhaybī (1869-1930), turned from the Ibā īyya to the Shāf ī madhhab, was a student of Abdallāh Bā Kathīr and Amad b. Sumay, specialized on fiqh and wrote a book on na w; In 1922, he founded the Jamīat al-Islāmiyya wa-Nāqib Abd al-Karīm in Mlandege (Ng’ambo), which was, according to al- Farsy, Zanzibar’s first Salafī organization, although the first reformist organization was the izb al-Ilā as established, in 1910, by Nāir b. Sālim al-Rawwāī and Nāir b. Sulaymān al-Lamkī who edited, from 1911-1914, a thrice-monthly Arabic paper titled al-Najā (progress) (Bang 2003: 136). One of Sālim b. Sa īd b. Sayf al-Shuhaybī’s students was Rashīd b. 590 biographical dictionary

āmid al-a ramī (see al-Farsy 1972: 40 and chapter 3). B170 al-Sinesrī Ilyās b. Alī b. Ilyās (1868-1937), a student of Sa īd b. Damān and Amad b. Sumay as well as Abū l-asan b. Amad Jamal al-Layl. Al-Sinesrī established the jumuiyya shubbān al-muslimīn in Zanzi- bar in November 1935 (see al-Farsy 1972: 61). B171 Sulayman Abdallah Amour, editor of Mwangaza, a paper close to the ZPPP. Sumay Amad b. (1861-1925); see Bang 2003, al-Farsy 1972: 53-74 and chapter 3. Sumay Umar b. Amad b., see chapter 3. B172 al-afayish Abū Isāq Ibrāhīm b. Muammad b. Yūsuf, was discussed as ‘Ibā ī’-teacher at the Muslim Academy in 1960. His name was often also spelled Ifish or Afayyish (see chapter 8). He was born in 1888 in the Algerian Mzab and was the nephew of a well known Ibā ī Mzabi scholar, Muammad b. Yūsuf al- afayish, 1820-1914, the author of an important Ibā ī legal text, shar al-nīl (Pouwels 1987: 204; see also chapter 4 and Bang 2003: 148). Abū Isāq al-afayish taught in the Mzab for 12 years, then in Tunis for 6 years, then in Egypt since 1930. B173 Tajo Ameir Tajo ‘Mdogo’ (the ‘younger’), from Makun- duchi and co-founder of the Shirazi Association in Unguja in 1940; in 1945, he became the first African member of the LegCo and attended the first Africa Conference in London in 1948 (with Amad Lamkī as the second Zanzibari delegate); he was also a founding member of the ASU in 1957. He was excluded from the ASU in October 1959 due to ‘financial mismanagement’ and founded, together with Muhammad Shamte, in December 1959 the ZPPP, while the ASU was renamed ASP (Mapuri 1996: 24; chapter 2). B174 Tajo Ameir Tajo ‘Mkubwa’ (the ‘elder’; 1907-1992), was born in Kijini/Makunduchi in 1907. He was linked with asan b. Amīr by marriage. He studied in Makunduchi with local scholars such as Abdallāh āli al-Shirāzī, then went to Zanzibar and studied with asan b. Amīr and āfi' b. Amīr in Misufini. He also joined Gofu and Ukutani classes with Amad b. Sumay, Sulaymān al- Alawī Jamal al-Layl, Abdallāh Bā Kathīr and Muammad Sallūm ‘Makka’. When asan b. Amīr went to the mainland in the early 1940s, Ameir Tajo moved into his house in Kwa Ali Nathoo. This house was subsequently turned into a madrasa and a mosque. Some years later, he acquired a larger plot of land close by and extended the madrasa which became known as the Madrasat Amīriyya al-Islāmiyya. As a rule, this madrasa taught biographical dictionary 591

100-150 students. In 1964, he was obliged to close his madrasa for some days due to the disturbances of the revolution. Yet, this seems to have been confined to the ‘Okello period’ in January 1964 only, as the new Chief Qā ī, Fatawi Issa, seems to have used his position to protect the school (IC28, 10.9.2008). In 1967, the school was inspected by a municipal commission of inquiry into the condition of Qur ānic schools (see chapter 9). In 1999, the madrasa and mosque were renovated and expanded due to an endowment of the Ambassador of the UAE. Among his students was his own son, Tajo Ameir Tajo, Machano Makame and Ali Khatib Mranzi, the Chief Qā ī of Zanzibar from 2006-2008. Ameir Tajo became a lower court Qā ī in 1964 for Urban West and the Chief Qā ī of Zanzibar in 1985 until 1992. In the 1970s, he was a teacher at the Muslim Academy. From 1980-1992, he served as Patron of the National Committee of Qur ān reciters and from 1982-1992 as chairman of the mawlid al-nabī committee. He also spoke on the radio, usually introduced by Musa Makungu, the Chief Qā ī from 1992-2006 (see Shani 2004, chapters 3 and 9). B175 Twala Abd al-Aziz, was a member of the revolutionary government. Uways (al-Bārawī), b. Muammad, see chapter 3. B176 Wakil Idrissa Abdul, born 1928 in Makunduchi (a ‘Shirazi’), 1936-39 Primary School, 1940-43 at the ‘Dole’ Rural Middle School, 1944-48 GSS, 1949-51 Makerere, joined the civil service on 1 January 1952, applied for government scholarship in 1952 but was rejected, reapplied in 1954 and was accepted for a vacation diploma course at Makerere in 1954, reapplied for a UK grant in 1955 but was rejected again. In 1956, the DoE, Hann, wrote in his personal file: ‘He is a very good teacher and after comparatively short service has been given special responsibility in that he has been made the Head Teacher of Makunduchi School. He is a member of the Educational Advisory Com- mittee. His conduct is excellent’. In 1962, he resigned from service, being a candidate for the LegCo elections (ZNA AB 86/45). After the revolution, he became the Minister of Education from April- December 1964, then, still in 1964, union cabinet minister as well as Ambassador to Germany. While being a moderate supporter of Karume after the revolution, he came to be regarded later as a ‘liberator’, a hard line member of the Revolutionary Council. In 1985, he became President of Zanzibar (until 1990). B177 Wāshilī Abd al-Raīm b. Mamūd al-Wāshilī Mngazija, was a student of Amad b. Sumay. b. 1872 in Unguja, d. 1936 in Pemba. He was a shamba qā ī in Pemba and 592 biographical dictionary

Mkokotoni, Unguja but had many students, in particular, within the Qādiriyya (al-Farsy 1972: 62). After his death, the Sultan invited Umar (b. Amad) b. Sumay to come back to Zanzibar (see above). Wazīr a family of religious scholars of Comorian origin; B178 Wazīr Abdallāh b. Wazīr ‘Msujini’ (d. 1904), taught at Mskiti wa ‘Charlie’ (now Mskiti ‘Waziri’; al-Farsy 1972: 64). His son, B179 Wazīr Muammad al-ājj b. Abdallāh b. Wazīr (1876- 1936), also was a famous scholar. He was a student of his father, of Sa īd b. Damān and of Amad b. Sumay; he himself was a teacher of Abdallāh āli al-Farsy, asan b. Amīr and Fatawi Issa (IC26, 13.8.2007; al-Farsy 1972: 64/65). B180 Wazīr Amad b. Abd al-Ramān b. Wazīr was considered, in 1961, to become ‘Ibā ī’-teacher at the Muslim Academy (see chapter 8). B181 Zahor Amur, a police officer, but highly respected before 1964; was executed in 1964 in the Mtoni detention camp. B182 Zahrān Amad Zahrān (al-Riyāmī), was a Headmaster of the GCS (ZNA AD3/8), an Ibā ī religious scholar and member of the 1945 Committee on Religious Teach- ing. Since 1953, he was the headmaster of the Arab language primary school, which was accommodated first in the building of theMuslim Academy in Forod- hani, but moved to a new building in Darajani in 1956. B183 Zahrān Amad Omar, born 1941, studied in UK from 1962 (ZNA AD 8/22). B184 Zubayr Rijal Wazir, from a Comorian family, born on 21 March 1921, studied at the GCS and visited secondary schools in Tanganyika and Uganda, did his teachers diploma at Makerere and was appointed teacher in Zanzibar on 1 January 1945. He then studied for a B.SC in Zoology at Queen Mary College, University of London. After his return in 1953, he was promoted education officer. His personal report as written by DoE Hann on 6 January 1964 said: ‘very good general conduct, energetic and willing to responsibility, good administrative ability, has gained valuable experience during the past years, good professional and technical ability, very good capacity for organization, very good ability to cooperate with other officers, very good relations with the public’ (AD 49/19, 22).

2. Employees in the Department of Education B185 Abdulrahman Said Ilyas, was born on 23.6.1918, a Comorian. He was appointed teacher at the Sayyid Khalifa College, biographical dictionary 593

Beit al-Ras, on 6.1.1936, worked in Pemba in 1938, got his teachers professional certificate in 1947/48; 1948/9 Institute Education London, 1954 Assistant Education Officer, 1960/1 Education Certificate, got excellent reports, (ZNA AD 49/10 and 49/11). B186 Arjani A.R., was Headmaster of the Sir Euan Smith Madrasa from 1934-1947 (ZNA AB 86/48; see chapter 5). B187 Babb B.A., DoE, born 1907 in Bradford-on-Avon, Wilt- shire, colonial service in 1929, Nigeria, 1942-44 army service (Middle East), 1945 education officer Tangan- yika (until 31.3.1951), became DoE in Zanzibar on 1.4.1951 (until 26.4.1953) (ZNA AB 86/24). B188 al-Barwānī Saada b. Abdullah Jahadhmi, born 1934 in Lamu, 1958 education officer, taught domestic sciences in primary schools and at the Sayyida Nunuu College (ZNA AD 49/35). B189 Bhaiji Fidahussein Karimji, Indian Education Officer, from the ‘Sind Madrasatul Islam’ in Karachi, a ‘Dawoodi Bohra’, in Zanzibar 1947-1949 (ZNA AB 86/40). B190 Bhatia Sita Rani born 8.8.1919, first appointment 18.6.1948, women education officer, Zanzibar, recruited in India in 1948, teaching and inspection of grant aided schools and government Indian schools (ZNA AD 49/6 and 30). B191 Birney M. R., education officer, appointed 1957, born 1927, teacher for science and mathematics (ZNA AD 49/32). B192 Blaxland Renato William, was born in 1904 in Effingham, Sur- rey, first employment colonial service in 1929, Tan- ganyika, as education officer, DoE in Zanzibar from 8.10.1953 to 5.2.1956, employment terminated formally in 30.6.1956 (ZNA AB 86/25). He died in 1964. B193 Bowen Miss Joan, principal of the Sayyida Nunuu College, the Women Teacher Training College in Zanzibar in 1960 and 1961. On leave from December 1960, went, in March 1961, first to Makerere and then to North- ern Rhodesia, while her position was taken by Miss Crowhurst, when Bibi Samīra refused to act as Acting Principal (see chapter 7). B194 Brolin J. Charles, born 10.1.1939, appointed 1962 (ZNA AD 49/54). B195 Buchanan Lawrence Alexander Cockburn, Supervisor of Educa- tion, born 1903 in The Manse, Forres, Morayshire, Scotland, appointed colonial service 19.8.1929, was the first British educational officer to work in Pemba (ZNA AB 86/28). B196 Calvert Elisabeth Smith, born McCreary, born 1927 in North- ern Ireland. She was in Zanzibar from 1954-1957 (ZNA AB 86/39). B197 Cannon B.M., born 14.1.1928, appointed women education 594 biographical dictionary

officer (geography) in 1959. The DoE, Hann, wrote her ‘terminal confidential report’ on 16 April 1964. Cannon was Principal of the Sayyida Matuka School from 1960 (ZNA AD 49/41). B198 Cozens Hilda Mary, Women Education Officer, born 1916 in Newcastle, she was in Zanzibar from 1946 to 1950 (ZNA AB 86/35). B199 Davies Geraint George, born 1912, from Wales, was educated at Llandovery and Exeter, 1938-42 Hongkong, posted to Zanzibar in 1946 and biology teacher at the Boys Secondary School, since 1953 education officer and President of the English club, was also Principal of the SESM from 1953-54, member of the ‘Sports Con- trol Board’ and chairman of the Boy Scouts Associa- tion (1957), since probably 1960 Principal of the King George VI College (see chapter 7). B200 Dickson W.A., born 11.9.1928, appointed 1957, was in the Royal Navy, 1959 permanent appointment, he was Principal of the Sayyid Khalifa TTC and Technical School in the 1960s (ZNA AD 49/31, 37 and 38). B201 Ellis R., was born 7.7.1935; education officer; taught geography since 1959 at the King George VI College, where most English teachers worked in the late colonial period (ZNA AD 49/39). B202 English Anne Barbara, 1961 education officer, born 23.10.1929 (ZNA AD 49/40). B203 Evans R.C., taught English, from 1959 at King George VI College (ZNA AD 49/23). B204 Foster Robert Spence, born 1891 in London, died 1947, since 1917 colonial service in Tanganyika, since 1922 Department of Education, 1930 Department of Edu- cation, Uganda (until 1939), 1939 DoE in Zanzibar (appointment on 1.4.1939 as successor to Hendry, implemented on 27.12.1939. Left Zanzibar on 29.4.1943 as seconded to the colonial office, then worked as assistant education officer at the Colonial office until his death in 1947 (ZNA AB 86/16). B205 Gregory D.R., born 1.3.1910, appointed Zanzibar 23.12.1960, education officer, teacher for Latin, French and Eng- lish at the King George VI College (ZNA AD 49/46). B206 Greig Anthony Alan McGregor (sometimes spelled ‘Grieg’), was born 23.4.1916, educated in Tonbridge, then Trinity College, Oxford (BA Oxon, Dipl. of Educa- tion). First appointment Cyprus 1946, then 1948 Kenya, was posted to Zanzibar in 1957 as senior education officer; 1957-64 Assistant Director of Educa- tion in Zanzibar. The 1963 confidential report (DoE Hann, 17.3.1964) mentioned: ‘Greig is a very efficient and capable officer’. He retired in 1964 and was replaced by Ali Hassan Mwinyi on 25.6.1964, five biographical dictionary 595

months after the revolution (ZNA AD 40/27, see also chapter 7). al-ājj (el-Haj), Muammad Abeid, teacher in the 1930s (see chapter 5). B207 Hann Stanley Fran, DoE, born 1909 in Shepton Malet/Som- erset, first appointment colonial service 1946, Zanzi- bar; before meteorological officer in the Sudan and Kenya (since 1940). April 1946 education officer Zan- zibar, had to pass higher examination in Kiswahili in 1951, was then appointed ADoE on 8.12.1950, as well as Inspector of schools (1.1.1951). He left Zanzibar in March 1952, but returned from leave and was nominated DoE on 28.4.1953 (after Babb). Ronald William Blaxland then took over as DoE from 8.10.1953 (Hann served only six months). On 1.1.1955 Hann was nominated senior education officer, replaced Blaxland as Acting DoE from 5.8.1956, but was replaced as DoE by Frederick Webber from 15.12.1956 to 9.3.1957, then from 24.6.1958 by Anthony Alan McGregor Greig as ADoE. Hann was back into office on 20-9-1958, again on leave from 3-7-1959 to 1.8.1959, as well as 22.12.1959 to 26.3.1959, respectively represented by Greig. Other leaves were in 1960, 1961, 1962 (Greig Acting DoE) and 1963: i.e. Hann was the British DoE in Zanzibar until almost independence and was replaced on 6.7.1963 by Amūr Alī Ameir as Acting DoE. Hann proposed to go on last leave for 1.5.1964 and in fact left Zanzibar on 30.4.1964 (ZNA AB 86/22). B208 Harvey Reginal James, was born 1901 in London. Started colonial service in Tanganyika in 1926; appointed DoE in Zanzibar on 5.11.1944, left Zanzibar in July 1948 (ZNA AB 86/21). B209 Hendry William, born 10.2.1888 in Edinburgh, 1892-1905 Daniel Stewart’s College, Edinburgh, 1905-11 Edin- burgh University, MA 1909 First Class Honours in Classics, with Scottish Ministry of Education since 1911, Assistant Master Secondary School, then, 1911, Department of Public Instruction, Egypt (1911-20), military service 1915-1919 (Captain, in the Mediter- ranean 1915-17, Egypt 1917-18, France 1918-19), First Class Honours in Classics, Advanced Arabic Examination in March 1920, Advisor to the Ministry of Education in Egypt until 1920 (Assistant Master of the Tewfiqiyya Secondary School in Cairo), ‘a keen educationist, steady and hardworking, and has good powers of organization’. He was seconded to Zanzi- bar from Egypt on 9.9.1920. He started to work as DoE on 23.12.1920 and did the Swahili Higher Exam- ination in February 1925. His service ended in 1937 596 biographical dictionary

(ZNA AB 86/17). He died in 1965 (The Times, obituary, 20.3.1965). B210 Hill Kenneth Basil, DoE, born 1904 in York, since 1927 Superintendent of Education in Nigeria, since 1938 education officer Tanganyika, since 1.1.1949 DoE Zanzibar, as successor of Harvey, retired on 7.12.1950 (ZNA AB 86/23). B211 Holway James Patrick, appointed 1956, left Zanzibar due to the ‘localization programme’, born 8.3.1930, appointed 1956, education officer, mathematics teacher at the King George VI College (ZNA AD 49/29 and 52). B212 Howie W.C., appointed 1961, born 22.8.1934, biology teacher (ZNA AD 49/42). Hollingsworth Lawrence William (see chapter 7). B213 Ingrams Harold, born 1897, educated in Shrewsbury, served in the K.S.L.I from 1914-1919; was wounded in Belgium in 1916, and, as a consequence, permanently handi- capped; he was posted as Assistant District Officer to Zanzibar in 1919, served in Wete, Pemba, then Mkokotoni, Zanzibar, then Chake Chake, Pemba, then, since 1924 in several positions: amongst others he was Assistant DoE in Zanzibar in 1924 for a period of c. six months. He definitively left Zanzibar in 1926. His next positions were Mauritius (until 1933), then Aden (until 1945), then Assistant Secretary to the Allied Control Commission for Germany (1945-7), then (1947), Gold Coast. He was honoured with an OBE in 1933. He retired in 1948 but continued to work as advisor to the government, in commissions to Hongkong or Gibraltar. He wrote one of the most influential colonial texts on Zanzibar, ‘Zanzibar. It’s History and it’s Peoples’. Other books were mostly on the Yemen but also on his land journey, with his family, across the Sahara, to Accra (‘Seven across the Sahara. From Ash to Accra’, London 1949). Harold Ingrams died on 9.12.1973 (The Times, Obituary). B214 Jasavala P.F., born 4.11.1934 in Zanzibar, Parsee, appointed to the colonial service in 1957, education officer 1961, taught domestic sciences, at the Sayyida Matuka Girls School. Her husband was teacher at the Sayyid Khal- ifa TTC (ZNA AD 40/36). Johnson George Benjamin, see chapter 7. B215 Johnson Georgina Rose, born 1885 in The Laurels, Eccleshall, Staffordshire, was headmistress of a London Girls’ school. She was appointed ‘Mistress Arab Girls’ School’ in Zanzibar on 1.5.1927 and married G.B. Johnson (see above) in 1923. On 24.3.1929, she was appointed Superintendent of Female Education. She also taught Kiswahili and Arabic (ZNA AB 86/30). B216 Johonott Miss S.C., first appointed 1963, born 1940 in the US (ZNA AD 49/59). biographical dictionary 597

Jumbe (Mwinyi), Aboud (see chapter 7). B217 Khahoo Abdulrasul, born 1922 in Wete, Pemba, an Indian Muslim, appointed to office as education officer on 1 January 1944, taught at the SESM, got a Teacher Training Certificate at Makerere, and passed Inter- mediate Examination at the London University. He taught at secondary schools since 1951, and did a B.A. at London University from 1952-1955. Since 1955, he was teaching mathematics and Gujarati at the King George VI College (ZNA AD 49/7 and 26). He was considered an excellent, yet, sometimes diso- riented teacher (IC82, 14.8.2007). B218 Khassibi Muhammad Salim, was born 9.12.1911, appointed 1933, senior teacher 1961 (ZNA AD 49/56). B219 Long C.F., born 25.8.1909, appointed to Zanzibar in 1956, principal of the Karimji Trade School, ‘dogmatic in his views, but much common sense, a little too critical of others´ shortcomings at times’ (ZNA AD 49/28 and 53). B220 Lyne R.N., the first (1906) British government school teacher in Zanzibar, a missionary of the Friends’ Industrial Mission. Mathew Thomas Benjamin Itty, see chapter 7. B221 Mgeni Muammad Alī Muammad, b. 1906, civil service 1925, later Assistant Private Secretary to the Resi- dency; in 1950 nominated member of the Govern- ment Arabic Language Examination Board (ZNA AB 86/4). B222 al-Mu īnī Ali Hassan (Mwinyi), b. 1926 in Tanganyika, was appointed teacher on 1.1.1945 in Zanzibar, taught at King George VI College, was after the revolution 1964 the director of the TTC and principal assistant secretary in the ministry of education, 1984/1985 President of Zanzibar, then President of Tanzania 1985-1995, a ‘frontline’ member of the CCM. B223 Munns R., education officer, b. 1922, appointed 1958, left in 1964 in the context of the Zanzibarization programme (Hann 16.4.1964), taught engineering and handicraft (ZNA AD 49/34). B224 Owen G.P., born 1938, appointed 1953, in Zanzibar 1963 (ZNA AD 49/60). B225 Oxtoby Edna, Women Education Officer, born 8.7.1915 in Yorkshire, Service in Zanzibar 1949-1956, education officer, biology (ZNA AB 86/38 and ZNA AD 49/55). B226 Patel C.M., Assistant Inspector of Schools, was suspended from service on 2.6.1934 due to allegations of having lent monies at high rates to employees of the Protec- torate administration since 1929. Also, he had refused to pay the salary of teachers Abdulla Daud and Muammad Said Shangama. The case against him 598 biographical dictionary

was rejected as it was not possible to prove that Patel had personally enriched himself. He was reinstated into office and rehabilitated in July 1934 (ZNA AB 86/27). B227 Payne E.M.M. (Miss), Senior Women Education Officer, born 1909 in Eastborne, England, in Zanzibar since 1946 until 1953 (ZNA AB 86/34). B228 Pearce Major F.B., born 1866, was British Resident in Zanzi- bar from 1914-1922, was then appointed Deputy Governor of Nyassaland. B229 Pigott Peter Herbert, born 1923 in London, appointed 1953, education officer, principal of Sayyid Khalifa School (ZNA AD 49/20). B230 Pike R.G., born 3.2.1924, 1951 education officer Zanzibar, in charge of schools in Pemba (ZNA AD 49/15 and 17). B231 Rimmer J.A., born 1922, appointed education officer 1955, Principal of the TTC for 2 years (ZNA AD 49/25). B232 Rivers-Smith J., the first DoE in Zanzibar from 1907-20, b. 1877, educated at St. Lawrence College, Ramsgate and St. Catherine’s College, Cambridge; M.A. Canterbury, Egyptian Civil Service, then, 1905-1920 Zanzibar, subsequently served in Tanganyika. B233 Robertson Agnes Blyth, Senior Education Officer, born 1901 in Dunfermline, Scotland, first appointment colonial service 1934 (Uganda), in Zanzibar from 1944-1945 (ZNA AB 86/32 and 33). B234 Shaaban Abdulmajid, born 10.6.1924, appointed 1945, senior teacher 1961, Headmaster std. VIII school (ZNA AD 49/57). B235 Simpson Mary, appointed 1959, education officer Pemba (ZNA AD 49/51). B236 Sirrī Abd al-Ramān b. āmid, was for a short time employed as ‘Ibā ī-teacher’ at the Muslim Academy in 1960 (see chapter 8). B237 Stevens E.K., born 25.1.1913, appointment Zanzibar 28.4.1961, teacher for English as a foreign language, at the TTC (she was Australian) (ZNA AD 49/43). B238 Tata G.K., was Headmaster of the SESM, then first non- European Headmaster of the GCS from 1910-1920; in the 1920s again Headmaster of the SESM (see chapter 5). B239 Tejani Mohammed Jaffer Abdulhusein, education officer, born 30.4.1933, first appointed 1961, teacher for Ara- bic, first appointment as (clerical) interpreter for Arabic at the high court, Zanzibar, studied from 1957 at SOAS with R.B. Serjeant and got a University of London BA. From 1959, he studied in Beirut at the American University in order to improve his Arabic and returned to Zanzibar in 1961. He inspected the Muslim Academy in 1963. He was teacher for English biographical dictionary 599

and Arabic at the King George VI College, head of the Arabic department, the last entrance in his file was on 11.1.1964 (ZNA AD 49/48 and 50; ZNA AB 86/43; see chapter 8). B240 Webber Hugh Frederick, Education Officer, born 1911 in Minehead, Somerset, Colonial service 1946 (Zanzi- bar), was appointed Senior Education Officer in 1955, in 1956 Acting DoE for Hann, 1957 end of service, died 1957. His successor as Senior EO was Muam- mad Sālim Hilāl al-Barwānī (ZNA AB 86/41). B241 Williams Patrick Edward, Director of Education, born 1904 in Coalville, Leicester, appointed Colonial Service Tan- ganyika 1926 (until 1940), 1940-43 Assistant DoE in Uganda, 1.8.1943 ADoE Zanzibar as successor of Foster, replaced L.W. Hollingsworth as ADoE, was transferred to Kenya in August 1944 (ZNA AB 86/19). B242 Wilson Fergus Brunswick, b. 27.8.1908, a Presbyterian minister by profession, attended Berkhamsted School, studied at the Institute of Agriculture in Hertford- shire, then at Cambridge University (1927-1930). He came to Zanzibar in 1933, was appointed agricultural officer in 1935 and was proposed to become the first Principal of the future Jeanes Centre in Dole/Zanzi- bar on 19.6.1937. After a visit of the Jeanes Centre in Zomba/Nyassaland in February 1938, he raised first doubts about the viability of such a centre. His wish to be assessed, as principal of a future Jeanes centre, on a higher salary scale, was rejected, however, but he was asked to write a (confidential) report on adult literacy in the rural areas of Zanzibar. His 1938 report eventually stopped the Jeanes project and initiated the reorientation in education policies. On 27.3.1939 Wilson left Zanzibar for a course at the Institute of Education in London and returned in January 1940 to his position as agricultural officer in Zanzibar. He was appointed MBE in 1944 and was transferred to Kenya in 1948, where he did service until 1955 (ZNA AB 82/189). Subsequent to his service in Kenya, he continued his academic career, did his Ph.D. and became a professor. B243 Wesson John, 1958 education officer, history, born 23.5.1928, 1958 education officer, at the King George VI Col- lege. Asked ‘should opportunity arise, would you wish to be considered for posts in other colonies’, he responded, ‘only if zanzibarized’ (ZNA AD 49/38). 600 biographical dictionary

3. Local teachers B244 Bimkubwa Yusuf Abdallah, Comorian, Muslim, born 1923, in Zanzibar, appointed 1940, primary school teacher (ZNA AD 8/2); B245 Nassor Ali Ahmed, born 1941, Ngambwa Chake Chake, first app. 1963, primary school teacher (ZNA AD 8/20); B246 Bakari Ubwa Ali, born 1929 in Makunduchi, shirazi, first app. 1949, primary school teacher, 1941-45 Dole, 1947-8, TTC education, teacher 1949 (ZNA AD 8/4); B247 Bashe Salim Sultan Binbrek, born 1931, first appointment 1947, assistant teacher, Jambiani primary school (ZNA AD 8/3); B248 Haji Foum Haji (ZNA AD 8/25); B249 Nasor Hemed Khamis el-Busaidi, born 1931, Pemba, first app. 1952, primary school teacher (ZNA AD 8/10); B250 Nurjehan Ranji Dewji, Indian, born 1939, Zanzibar, first app. 1961, primary school teacher (ZNA AD 8/19); B251 Nasra Muammad Isa, born 1932, Wete Pemba, first app. 1951, primary school teacher (ZNA AD 8/7); B252 Biubwa Abdullah Jamal, born 1935, first app. 1954, primary school teacher (ZNA AD 8/11); B253 Bikombo Abdullah Khamis, Arab, born 1932 in Chake Chake, first app. 1952, primary school teacher (ZNA AD 8/8); B254 Nassor Khatib, born 1936, Zanzibar, first app. 1956, primary school teacher (ZNA AD 8/13); B255 Nassor Juma Khatiba, born 1926, Mtambwe, Wete, first app. 1949, primary school teacher (ZNA AD 8/5); B256 Nurali Abdulrasul Kassam Khimji, Indian, born 1935, first app. 1952, primary school teacher (ZNA AD 8/18); B257 Nassor Ali Kindy, born 1934, Zanzibar first app. 1957, primary school teacher (ZNA AD 8/16); B258 Nasir Ali Kombo, born 1929, Bungi, Koani ‘Mafazy-African’, first app. 1949, primary school teacher (ZNA AD 8/6); B259 Nadhar Khatib Makame, born 1932, Mangapwani, first app. 1955, primary school teacher (ZNA AD 8/12); B260 Ngwali Usi Mcha, born 1934, Potowa, first app. 1956, primary school teacher (ZNA AD 8/14); B261 Bimkubwa Saidi Mtaha, born 1934, Zanzibar, first app. 1954, primary school teacher (ZNA AD 8/9); B262 Bint Muammad Ahmed Shariff, born 1916, first app. 1932, teacher in Makunduchi, from Somalia, Marka-Arab, headmistress (ZNA AD 8/1); B263 Masoud Umar Said (ZNA AD 8/24); B264 Nassor Muammad Sulayman, born 1931, Mkoani, Pemba, first app. 1956, primary school teacher (ZNA AD 8/15). sources 601

SOURCES

a. List of Interlocutors and Locations of al-Farsy, Jabir Haidar Jabir (Stone Conversations Town) Gilsaa, Sören (London, Kopenhagen; Abd as-Salam Muhammad (Stone electronic) Town) Gräbner, Werner (Bayreuth) Abd al-Wahhab Alawi Abd al-Wahhab Haffner, Ulrike (Dar as-Salam) Jamal al-Lail (Chuini) Hamud, Mwalimu (Stone Town) Abd al-Wahid Mazrui (Stone Town) Hamza Zubeir Rijal (Stone Town) Abdilahi Nassir (Berlin; letters) Haroub, Bwana (Stone Town) Abdul Sheriff, M.H. (Bayreuth, Stone Harith Khelef Harith (Khamis) al-Ghay- Town) thi (Mufti, Kilimani, Zanzibar) Abele, Johan van de (Stone Town) Hashim, Abdalqadir (Bu Salim) (Zanzi- Adam Shafi Adam (Oslo) bar University, ZNA, Bergen; elec- Ahmedi, Bwana (Stone Town) tronic) Ahmed, Chanfi (Berlin; electronic) Hoffman, Valerie (Stone Town and elec- Ahmed Issa (Stone Town) tronic) Ali Hassan Umar (Stone Town) Hussein Ali Hussein (SUZA, Vuga, Ali Muhajir Makame (Stone Town) Stone Town) Ali, Mwalimu (Madrasa Research Cen- Idris, Mwalimu Muhammad Idris Mu - tre) hammad (Stone Town; Bayreuth, Ali Sultan Issa (Stone Town) Bergen; electronic) Alloo, Fatma (Stone Town) Ingrams, Bibi Layla (Stone Town) Ameir H. Ameir (College of Education, Ishaq, Mwalimu (Stone Town) Zanzibar) Ismail, Mwalimu (Stone Town) Amina Issa Ameir (Stone Town and Jafar Muhammad (Stone Town) electronic) Karimji, Mufaddal A. (Stone Town) Bakari, Muhammad (Bayreuth, Stone Karume, Amani Abeid (Sultan´s Palace, Town) Stone Town) al-Barwani, Sauda (Stone Town and Khamis, Abd al-Hamid Khamis (Chuo electronic) Cha Kiislamu, CCK; WaqfHQ, Zan- Bhaloo, Muhammad (Madrasa Resource zibar) Centre, MRC; Stone Town) Khamis S. Khamis (Zanzibar National Bijl, Marloes van der (Stone Town) Archives, ZNA, Zanzibar) Bromber, Katrin (Stone Town, Berlin; Khamis, Othman Saidi (Stone Town) electronic) al-Khitami, Muhdhar (Stone Town) van de Bruinhorst, Gerard (Oslo; elec- Killingray, David (Helsinki; electronic) tronic) Kresse, Kai (Berlin) Burgess, Thomas Gary (Stone Town) Ladhu, Ismail Jussa (Stone Town) Declich, Lorenzo (Bayreuth) Langas, Arngeir (Stone Zown) Deutsch, Georg (Stone Town) Larsen, Kjersti (Oslo) Dourado, Wolf (Stone Town) Lodhi, Abd al-Aziz (Oslo) Duchi, Dr. (Stone Town) Lookmanji, Kaid (Stone Town) Faki, Juma (Stone Town) Mchano, Shibli M. (Mufti’s Office, Kili- Farid Himid (Stone Town) mani, Zanzibar) 602 sources

Mahmoud Jabir (Dar es Salaam) Schallmeyer, Leonie (Stone Town) Mahmoud, Yusuf (Stone Town) Schulz, Eckhard (Stone Town) Maulid, Ahmad (Stone Town) Shani, Masoud Ahmad (CCK, Stone Mazru i, Hamad Kassim (Berlin) Town; electronic) Meffert, Bibi Saada (Stone Town) Sheha, Umar (ZNA, Zanzibar) Meffert, Erich (Stone Town) Soraga, Sulaiman Fadhil (Birmingham, Mgeni, Ahmad (Stone Town) Berlin) Mmanga, Mwalimu (Taasisi, Zanzibar) Sulaiman, Harun A. (Sultan’s Palace, Mrisho, Khaled Muhammad (madrasat Ministry of Education, Zanzibar) al-nūr; WaqfHQ, Stone Town) Talib, Abdallah (WaqfHQ, Stone Town) Msallam, Ahmad (Berlin) Tamim, Ali Fereji (Stone Town) al-Mugheiry, Juma Saloum (Stone Tamim, Safiya (Stone Town) Town) Topan, Farouk (Stone Town) Muhammad b. Abd al-Wahhab Alawi Turki, Mwalimu (Stone Town) Jamal al-Lail (Stone Town) Umar, Hamadi (Sultan’s Palace, Stone Muhammad Ali (Stone Town) Town) Muhammad, Bi Asha (MRC, Stone Yussuf, Shaykh Yussuf Said (Makun- Town) duchi, Zanzibar) Muhammad Said Muhammad Salim Zagar al-Farsi (Stone Town) (CoE, Zanzibar) Ziddy, Issa (CCK, SUZA, Zanzibar; Bay- Musa, Saidi (Dar es Salaam) reuth; Berlin; electronic) Mwakimako, Hassan (Stone Town, Bir- mingham, Berlin) Mwinyi, Madina (CCK, Zanzibar) b. Material Used in the Zanzibar Nadwi, Dr. Ayoub (CoE, Zanzibar) National Archive (Nyaraka za Taifa, Nagi, Abdallah (Africa Muslim Agancy, ZNA) AMA, Zanzibar) Njozi, Hamza (Stone Town) I. ZNA AB 1: Education 1907-1964 Nuotio, Hanni (Stone Town) Oberauer, Norbert (Stone Town, Bay- AB 1/6 (Education, Centralization of reuth) Indian Education) Othman Miraji Othman (Bayreuth) AB 1/9 (education policy) Othman, Haroub (University of Dar es AB 1/15 (The Datur Kanyashatta Ith- Salaam, Zanzibar Legal Services Cen- nasheri girls’ school) tre, ZLSC, Zanzibar) Rajab, Muham- AB 1/36 (Reconstitution of the Commit- mad (CoE, Zanzibar) tee of the Sir Euan Smith Madrasa) Ramadhani, Mwalimu Ramadhani AB 1/47 (Reconstitution of the Commit- Kututwa (Stone Town) tee of the SESM) Rasheed, Najma (Stone Town) AB 1/47 (ibid.) Reese, Scott (electronic) AB 1/66 (Indian education in Pemba al-Riyami, Hamoud (Stone Town) and Zanzibar) Said, Muhammad (Stone Town) AB 1/74 (Arab girls’ school hostel fees) Saleh, Mohamed Ahmed (Oslo, Paris) AB 1/78 (Control and Management of Saleh, Muhammad Said (Stone Town) the Sir Euan Smith Madrasa by Gov- Saleh Idris Muhammad (SUZA, Vuga, ernment Grant-in-Aid) Stone Town) AB 1/79 (Training of Indian Teachers, Saloum, Saleh Shaaban (Stone Town) proposal for inter-territorial centre) Sameja, Yunus A. (Stone Town; elec- AB 1/82 (Arabs school Zanzibar) tronic) AB 1/86 (Training of Indian women Samson, Ridder (Stone Town) teachers) sources 603

AB 1/89 (Arab Girls’ School Hostel AB 1/234 (Sir Euan Smith Madrasa: Fees) Minutes of the Main Committee) AB 1/96 (Site for New Aga Khan Girls’ AB 1/239 (Makerere College) School) AB 1/246 (Standardized Kiswahili) AB 1/97 (Interterritorial Training Cen- AB 1/252 (Muslim Education Mombasa tre for Indian Primary School Teach- Institute) ers at Nairobi) AB 1/253 (Mombasa Institute of Muslim AB 1/102 (Sir Euan Smith Madrasa Education, Nautical School) building) AB 1/254 (Basic payment of fees to the AB 1/103 (site for Dole school) MIOME) AB 1/111 (Arab Girls’ School, Utaani, AB 1/283 (Jeanes Centre courses of Wete) instruction) AB 1/113 (Sir Euan Smith Madrasa AB 1/284 (Jeanes Training) Building) AB 1/321 (Further training overseas of AB 1/115 (Proposed Site for Arabic Pri- ex-nautical students from the mary School) MIOME) AB 1/122 (Arabic Primary School Zanzi- AB 1/334 (Regional Centre for training bar) senior educational personal in Arab AB 1/129 (Additional Accomodation countries) required by the Muslim Academy) AB 1/346 (SESM Provident Fund) AB 1/136 (The Sultan’s silver jubilee AB 1/347 (Sir Euan Smith Madrasa Gov- scholarship fund) ernment Grant in aid) AB 1/137 (Schools and colleges grants AB 1/352 (Donation by HH the Aga aided: Sir Euan Smith Madrasa Khan towards schools in Pemba) AB 1/358 (Laying of foundation of the finance) new Sir Euan Smith Madrasa Build- AB 1/138 (Sir Euan Smith Madrasa, ing) accounts) AB 1/359 (Application for site at Majim- AB 1/141 (Government scholarships bikani, Wete, to build Koran school) Indian students) AB 1/373 (Aga Khan Girls School) AB 1/155 (scholarships for Africans in AB 1/380 (Arab Girls School, Utaani, India and Pakistan) Pemba) AB 1/176 (List of students studying in AB 1/381 (The Seyyid Khalifa school at the UK) Beit el-Ras Rural Middle School) AB 1/183 (Government Grants in aid to AB 1/385 (Comorian School) Bohora Madrassa) AB 1/390 (Teaching of Koran and Ara- AB 1/195 (Non-European Staff) bic in Government Schools) AB 1/200 (The Aga Khan School at Wete AB 1/393 (Sir Euan Smith Madrasa, and Chake Chake) Inspection reports) AB 1/201 (Non European Staff) AB 1/408 (Makerere Students) AB 1/203 (Teachers from Zanzibar for AB 1/413 (Report on Colonial Students Arabic Primary Schools in the Tru- in Britain) cial States) AB 1/415 (The Zanzibar Mombasa Insti- AB 1/206 (Kindergarten School) tute of Muslim Education Old Boys AB 1/208 (Sir Euan Smith Madrasa, Welfare Association) Staff) AB 1/428 (Arabic Examination) AB 1/215 (Petitions from teachers at the AB 1/431 (Arabic Library Zanzibar) Sir Euan Smith Madrasa) AB 1/437 (The Teachers’ Superannua- AB 1/224 (Education Policy) tion Act) AB 1/231 (Report of the Education AB 1/443 (Appointment of Inspector of Commission 1920) Indian Schools) 604 sources

AB 1/445 (Exchange of Teachers in Ara- AB 22/19 (Removal of Mosque) bic with neighbouring countries) AB 22/20 (Mosques in Zanzibar Town) AB 1/447 (Koran Teachers, salary, con- AB 22/21 (Mosque at Weti) dition of service) AB 22/22 (The Mosque Mwana Fatima) AB 1/449 (Sir Euan Smith Madrasa AB 22/23 (Mwembetanga Mosque) school) AB 22/41 (Haj Committee) AB 1/451 (Sir Euan Smith Madrasa, AB 22/44 (Religious differences among staff) Ithnashery Khojas) AB 1/460 (Recruitment of Teachers from AB 22/46 (Shia Khoja Ithnasheri Com- Sudan) munity) AB 1/461 (Recruitment of Asian teach- AB 22/48 (Ismailia community in East ers) Africa - Education and Political Wel- AB 1/462 (Recruitment of Teachers from fare) Hadramaut) AB 22/49 (Memon Jamat appointment AB 1/468 (Memorandum by HH the Aga of office bearers) Khan, Financial and General Policy) AB 22/50 (Khoja Ismaili Jamat) AB 1/487 (Muslim Academy) AB 22/51 (Kokni Jamat) AB 22/57 (mosques, Sunni mosque, II. ZNA AB 6: Education Pemba) AB 22/59 (Mecca pilgrimage) AB 6/8 (Note on Adult Literacy amongst AB 22/102 (Appointment of Kadhis) the Rural Population of the Zanzibar Protectorate) V. ZNA AB 30

III. ZNA AB 12: Associations AB 30/22 (Campaign amongst the Arabs and Africans against extravagant AB 12/2 (Shirazi Association) expenditure on marriage feast, AB 12/20 (Arab-Hadramaut Associa- funeral feasts etc.) tion) AB 12/28 (Arab Association) VI. ZNA AB 33: Census AB 12/128 (Joining of political association by government servants) AB 33/1 (Census Decree) AB 12/180 (The African Association) AB 33/2 (Census Decree) AB 33/3 (Census 1924) IV. ZNA AB 22: Miscellaneous Religion AB 33/7 (Census 1948) AB 33/9 (Census 1948) (Pilgrimage, Mosques, Waqf Files, Husayn Day Celebration, Festivals, VII. ZNA AB 68: visitors Ithnasheris): AB 22/8 (Upkeep of Mosques) AB 68/15 (Unofficial visitor: Dr. J. AB 22/9 (Topan Family) Schacht) AB 22/10 (Cathedral Mosque) AB 22/11 (Topan Family) VIII. ZNA AB 70: Disturbances AB 22/12 (Kizim Kazi Mosque) AB 22/13 (Mosque el-Masruri) AB 70/1 (Disturbances by Shihiris) AB 22/14 (Mosque at Mtoni) AB 70/2 (Somali-Suri Arab riot) AB 22/15 (Mosque el-Hadith) AB 70/3 (Disturbance created by Manga AB 22/16 (Waqf Mosque at Kafijicheni) Arabs) AB 22/17 (Mosque at Vuga) AB 70/5 (Riot of Feb. 7th, 1936) AB 22/18 (Mosque of Sulaiman bin AB 70/6 (Commission of inquiry into Waudi) the riot of 7th, February 1936) sources 605

AB 70/7 (Disturbances Report) AB 86/47 (Omar Abdallah) AB 70/9 (Racial Discrimination) AB 86/48 (A. R. Arjani) AB 86/49 (Ahmed Aley Juma) IX. ZNA AB 86: Personal Files AB 86/63 (Said Mahfudh Bingurnah) AB 86/136 (Abdallah Salih al-Farsy) (It has to be mentioned here, that Colo- AB 86/138 (Sh. Ali Muhammad Baqash- nial Office personal files were normally mar al-Abbasy) distroyed after a fixed period of time, AB 86/139 (Sh. Said b. Rashid b. Salim and, besides, out of access for anybody, el-Gheithy) even the person concerned; also, they AB 86/140 (Said b. Abdallah b. Amour were not deposited in the Public Record al-Azri) Office. The existence of a considerable AB 86/164 (Mr. P.P. Bulsara) number of personal files in the ZNA and AB 86/189 (F.B. Wilson) their accessability was, thus, a major AB 86/207 (Mrs. B.J. Bulsara) ‘stroke of luck’ and due to Prof. Abdul AB 86/233 (Hilal Muhammad al-Bar- Sheriff’s endeavours to save these files wani) from further decay in an old storeroom AB 86/247 (Omar Ahmad Zahran al- in the bayt al-ajā ib in Zanzibar): Alawi) AB 86/4 (Moh. Ali Moh. Mjeni) AB 86/251 (Hasnu Makame Mwita) AB 86/16 (Robert Spence Foster) AB 86/326 (Major F.B.Pearce) AB 86/17 (William Hendry) AB 86/18 (Robert Spence Foster) X. ZNA AC 18 (Attorney General’s AB 86/19 (Patrick Edward Williams) Department, Correspondance) AB 86/20 (Patrick Edward Williams) AB 86/21 (James Harvey) AC 18/1 (Report Rivers-Smith on educa- AB 86/22 (Stanley F. Hann) tion) AB 86/23 (Basil Hill) AB 86/24 (B. A. Babb) XI. ZNA AD 1: Education Department AB 86/25 (R. W. Blaxland) AB 86/26 (George Benjamin Johnson) AD 1/34 (Inspection of Religious Teach- AB 86/27 (C.M. Patel) ing in Zanzibar Schools) AB 86/28 (L.A. C. Buchanan) AD 1/80 (Syllabus Dole School) AB 86/29 (Ali Ahmed Jahadhmy) AD 1/112 (Teaching of Indian Woman AB 86/30 (G. R. Johnson) Teachers) AB 86/31 (M. A. Purnell) AD 1/115 (Indian Education Syllabus) AB 86/32 (A. B. Robertson) AD 1/116 (Personnel of the SESM Advi- AB 86/33 (A. B. Robertson) sory Committee) AB 86/34 (E. M. M. Payne) AD 1/119 (Sir Euan Smith Madrasa AB 86/35 (H. M. Cozens) Finance) AB 86/36 (Bibi Samira) AD 1/120 (Sir Euan Smith Madrasa AB 86/37 (Bibi Samira) Buildings) AB 86/38 (Edna Oxtoby) AD 1/121 (Sir Euan Smith Madrasa, AB 86/39 (E. S. Calvert) Pensions) AB 86/40 (Fidahussein Karimjee Bhaji) AD 1/121a (Sir Euan Smith Madrasa, AB 86/41 (H. F. Webber) Ad mission) AB 86/42 (Ahmed Muh. Abdulrehman) AD 1/122 (Aga Khan Boys’ School, AB 86/43 (Mohammed Jaffer A. Tejani) Staff) AB 86/44 (Aboud Jumbe Mwinyi) AD 1/123 (Aga Khan Boys’ School, AB 86/45 (Idrissa Abdul Wakil) In spection Report) AB 86/46 (Muhammad Shamte Ha - AD 1/124 (Aga Khan Boys’ School madi) Finance) 606 sources

AD 1/125 (Aga Khan Boys’ School, AD 7/45 (Teachers’ complaints) buildings) AD 1/126 (Bohora School Staff) XV. ZNA AD 8 (Personal Files) AD 1/127 (Ithnashery Boys’ School) AD 1/128 (Ithnashery Boys’ School AD 8/1 (Bint Muhammad Ahmad Shar- Staff) iff) AD 1/129 (Ithnashery Reports) AD 8/2 (Bimkubwa Yusuf Abdallah) AD 1/130 (Hindoo Girls’ School AD 8/3 (Bashe Salim Sultan Binbrek) Reports) AD 8/4 (Bakari Ubwa Ali) AD 1/131 (Hindoo Free Kanyalaya AD 8/5 (Nassor Juma Khatibu) Finance) AD 8/6 (Nasir Ali Kombo) AD 1/132 (Indian School Chake AD 8/7 (Nasra Muhammad Isa) Re port) AD 8/8 (Bikombo Abdullah Khamis) AD 1/132 (Indian School Chake AD 8/9 (Bimkubwa Saidi Mtaha) Re port) AD 8/10 (Nasor Hemed Khamis el- AD 1/133 (Indian school Chake Chake Busaidi) Building) AD 8/11 (Biubwa Abdullah Jamal) AD 1/134 (Aga Khan School Wete Staff) AD 8/12 (Nadhar Khatib Makame) AD 1/135 (Indian Skuli Wete, Reports) AD 8/13 (Nassor Khatib) AD 1/136 (Indian School Wete, Build- AD 8/14 (Ngwali Usi Mcha) ings) AD 8/15 (Nassor Muhammad Sulai- AD 1/137 (Chuo Cha Kiislamu, Files man) 1970-1976) AD 8/16 (Nassor Ali Kindy) AD 1/170 (Teachers from Sudan and AD 8/18 (Nurabi Abdulrasul Kassam Hadramawt) Khimji) AD 8/19 (Nurjehan Ranji Dewji) XII. ZNA AD 3: Religion AD 8/20 (Nassor Ali Ahmed) AD 8/21 (Farouk M.H. Topan) AD 3/8 (Religious Teaching in Schools) AD 8/22 (Ahmad Omar Zahran) AD 3/10 (Advisory Committee on Edu- AD 8/23 (Sh. Mohamed Burhan Mkelle) cation in Colonies) AD 8/24 (Masoud Umar Said) AD 3/27 (Committee to investigate the AD 8/25 (Haji Foum Haji) present state of African education in the Protectorate, 1952-1956) XVI. ZNA AD 12 AD 3/30 (School of Oriental and African Studies) AD 12/35 (Minutes za Baraza-conference) XIII. ZNA AD 5: Baraza, Film Censorship XVII. ZNA AD 13 AD 5/52 (Baraza za Uchumi) AD 13/8 (Development of the Muslim AD 5/63 (Baraza la Taifa la Lugha ya Academy) Kiswahili) AD 5/75 (Film Censorship) XVIII. ZNA AD 14

XIV. ZNA AD 7: Miscellaneous Muslim AD 14/12 (Teaching of Arabic in Schools) AD 7/20 (Indian Education, 1945) AD 14/28 (Discipline in schools) AD 7/21 (Indian schools syllabus 1948) AD 14/31 (Report of Committee of Edu- AD 7/22-40 (Files on the Mombasa cation 1959-1960) Institute of Muslim Education, AD 14/33 (Departmental offices and dis- MIOME). cipline) sources 607

XIX. ZNA AD 19 XXVI. ZNA AD 32 AD 19/15 (Education department mis- AD 32/66 (Teachers’ Training College) cellaneous) XXVII. ZNA AD 33 XX. ZNA AD 20 AD 33/12 (Construction of an Islamic AD 20/10 (Complaints against education Cultural Centre, Wete, Pemba) department) AD 33/16 (Inspection reports on Zanzi- AD 20/17 (Civil or Criminal Charges bar schools) against officers) AD 33/19 (Fidel Castro Secondari AD 20/35 (Koran teachers and condi- Sku li) tions of service) AD 20/54 (Shia Ithnasheri religious XXVIII. ZNA AD 36 teaching) AD 20/64 (Koran Teachers, General) AD 36/5 (Sir Euan Smith Madrasa AD 20/70 (Applications for post of mas- Teachers’ Association) ter at the Muslim Academy) AD 36/13 (The African Parents Associa- AD 20/71 (Muslim Academy Applica- tion) tions for post of an Ibadhi lecturer) AD 20/74 (Muslim Academy staff) XXIX. ZNA AD 38 AD 20/89 (Confidential, Ripoti ya siri kuhusu waalim wakuu waliobadish- AD 38/5 (Zanzibar grant aided school ishwa wa Pemba) teachers’ association) AD 38/8 (Rules for grant in aid to pri- XXI. ZNA AD 23 vate schools in Zanzibar) AD 38/11 (Government take over of AD 23/7 (Education Muslim Academy) graint aided schools and non grant AD 23/10 (French Comorian School) aided schools, 1964-1968) AD 23/16 (Comorian school) AD 23/17 (Muslim Academy 1949-1969) XXX. ZNA AD 39 AD 23/21 (Chuo Cha Kiislamu) AD 39/15 (Education advisory commit- XXII. ZNA AD 26 tee)

AD 26/11 (Paje school report) XXXI. ZNA AD 49 (Personal Files) AD 26/26 (Syllabus Mpya za secondari school) AD 41/1 (Said Hilal el-Bualy) AD 49/2 (Shaaban Saleh Abdullah XXIII. ZNA AD 27 Farsi) AD 49/3 (Amor Ali Ameir al-Marhubi) AD 27/10 (School sports) AD 49/4 (G.G. Davies) AD 49/5 (Bibi Samira Salim Seif al- XXIV. ZNA AD 30 Maamiri) AD 49/6 (Mrs. S.R. Bhatia) AD 30/19 (Minutes of subcommittee to AD 49/7 (M.A. Khahoo) survey Koran schools) AD 49/8 (Amor Ali Ameir) AD 49/9 (Saleh Abdallah Jahadhmy) XXV. ZNA AD 31 AD 49/10 (Said Ilyas Abdulrahman) AD 49/11 (ibid.) AD 31/24 (Women in Public Life) AD 49/12 (Muhammad Salim Hilal Bar- wani) 608 sources

AD 49/13 (ibid.) AD 49/57 (Abdulmajid Shaaban) AD 49/13 (Omar Abdallah Ahmed, AD 49/58 (G.D. Franks) Sayyid; this file-number was assigned AD 49/59 (Miss S.C. Johonott) twice) AD 49/60 (G.P. Owen) AD 49/14 (Sayyida Samira Salim Seif al- Maamiri) XXXII. ZNA AH 33 AD 49/15 (R.G. Pike) AD 49/16 (Geraint George Davies) AH 33/20 (The Milad al-Nabi Associa- AD 49/17 (R.G. Pike) tion) AD 49/18 (Saleh Abdulah Muhammad Jahadhmy) XXXIII. ZNA AH 43 AD 49/19 (Zubeir Rijal Wazir) AD 49/20 (Peter Herbert Pigott) AH 43/1 (Sir Euan Smith Madrasa AD 49/21 (R.P. Suchak) Staff) AD 49/22 (Zubeir Rijal Wazir) AH 43/3 (Payment of Gratuities to AD 49/23 (R.C. Ewans) Koran Teachers) AD 49/24 (Ali Ahmad Jahadhmy) AH 43/38 (Tayibali Karimjee Further AD 49/25 (J.R. Rimmer) Donation) AD 49/26 (Abdulrasul M. Khahoo) AH 43/41 (Baraza la Taifa la lugha ya AD 49/27 (Anthony Alan McGregor Kiswahili) Greig) AD 49/28 (C.F. Long) XXXIV. ZNA ARC 1 AD 49/29 (James Patrick Holway) AD 49/30 (Sita Rani Bhatia) ARC 1/169-206 (Correspondence Sultan AD 49/31 (W.A. Dickson) Khalifa b. Haroub) AD 49/32 (Miss M.R. Birney) AD 49/33 (Said Hilal Buali) XXXV. ZNA BA 5: Reports Education AD 49/34 (R. Munns) AD 49/35 (Mrs. Saada Barwani) BA 5/1-37 (Annual Reports on the Edu- AD 49/36 (Miss P.F. Jasawala) cation Department 1908-1964, not AD 49/37 (W.A. Dickson) consequently numbered): AD 49/38 (John Wesson) BA 5/1 (Annual Report for the Year AD 49/39 (R. Ellis) 1915, with a summary for the years AD 49/40 (Miss Anne Barbara English) 1908-15) AD 49/41 (Miss B.M. Cannon) BA 5/3 (Annual Reports for the Years AD 49/42 (W.C. Howie) 1924-1933, BA 5/2 was missing) AD 49/43 (Mrs. E.K. Stevens) BA 5/4 (Annual Report for the Year AD 49/44 (Thomas Benjamin Itty 1928) Mathew) BA 5/5 (Annual Report for the Year AD 49/45 (ibid.) 1930) AD 49/46 (D.R. Gregory) BA 5/8 (Annual Report for the Year AD 49/48 (Jaffer Abdulhusein Tejani) 1934) (BA 5/6 and BA 5/7 were miss- AD 49/49 (Hilal Muhammad Ali Bar- ing) wani) BA 5/9 (Annual Report for the Year AD 49/50 (ibid.) 1935) AD 49/51 (Miss Mary Simpson) BA 5/10 (Annual Report for the Year AD 49/52 (J.D. Holway) 1936) AD 49/53 (C.F. Long) BA 5/11 (Annual Report for the Year AD 49/54 (J. Charles Brolin) 1937) AD 49/55 (Miss E. Oxtoby) BA 5/12 (Annual Report for the Year AD 49/56 (Muhammad Salim Khassibi) 1938) sources 609

BA 5/13 (Annual Report for the Year BA 6/5 (Zanzibar Government Guide to 1939) Swahili Examinations) BA 5/14 (Annual Report for the Year BA 6/6 (Report by Mr. and Mrs. Johnson 1940) on a visit to the USA to study the BA 5/15 (Annual Report for the Years organization, aims and methods of 1941-1945) rural schools for negroes) BA 5/16 (Annual Report for the Year BA 6/22 (Report of the Commission on 1946) Education 1959) BA 5/17 (Annual Report for the Year BA 6/28 (Report of the Commission of 1947) Inquiry on the Conditions of Service BA 5/18 (Annual Report for the Year of Government Primary School 1948) Teachers, 1962) BA 5/19 (Annual Report for the Year BA 6/27 (Reports Education 1964-1976) 1949) BA 6/29 (Mpango wa masomo ya siasa BA 5/20 (Annual Report for the Year kwa skuli za praimari (silibasi ya 1950) siasa) BA 5/21 (Annual Report for the Year BA 6/30 (Othman Bakari, Halmashauri 1951) ya Uandika wa ripoti za maendeleo BA 5/22 (Annual Report for the Year za elimu Zanzibar, 1970) 1952) BA 6/32 (Wizara ya elimu Zanzibar, seh- BA 5/23 (Annual Report for the Year emu ya takwimu, ripoti ya 1977) 1953) BA 6/35 (Mpango wa Maendeleo ya BA 5/24 (Annual Report for the Year miaka mitani 1981/2-1985/6) 1954) BA 6/36 (Ripoti ya tume ya elimu Zanzi- BA 5/25 (Annual Report for the Year bar 1982) 1955) BA 6/38 (Mpango wa elimu wa muda BA 5/27 (Annual Report for the Year mrefu 1981-2000, December 1980) 1956) BA 6/44 Ripoti ya idara ya ASP - Elimu BA 5/28 (Annual Report for the Year Kuhusu makisio ya 1975 1957) BA 6/45 (Ripoti ya wizara ya elimu kwa BA 5/29 (Annual Report for the Years mwaka 1982) 1958-60) BA 6/47 (Sera ya elimu Zanzibar 1986) BA 5/30 (Annual Report for the Year BA 6/48 (Sera ya elimu Zanzibar 1991) 1959) BA 6/49 (The State of Education in Zan- BA 5/31 (Annual Report for the Year zibar Report - A report by the Zanzi- 1961) bar Presidential Educational Com- BA 5/32 (Annual Report for the Years mittee, February 1996) 1961-63) BA 6/52 (Ministry of Education Zanzi- BA 5/37 (The Zanzibar Education Mas- bar; The Introduction of Muslim ter Plan, 1996-2006) Academy Institutions in the Educa- BA 5/39 (Mid-term review of the Zanzi- tional System in Zanzibar) bar education master plan 1996-2006, BA 6/56 (The establishment of the Zan- Zanzibar 2002) zibar State University 2000) BA 5/40 (Sera ya elimu Zanzibar, toleo la 1995, Wizara ya elimu, 1995) XXXVII. ZNA BA 28 (1-27): Bateson Reports XXXVI. ZNA BA 6: Reports Education BA 28/3 (Religions) BA 6/1-26 (mostly Teacher Training BA 28/10 (Schooling) School Magazines, except the follow- BA 28/11 (Schooling in Koran Schools) ing three:) 610 sources

XXXVIII. ZNA BA 34 BA 58/25 (Hotuba ya waziri wa elimu Haroun A. Sulaiman, 2005/06) BA 34/7 (Report on the Census of the BA 58/26 (Hotuba ya waziri wa elimu Population of Zanzibar Protectorate, Haroun A. Sulaiman, 2006/07) 19./20.3.1958) BA 34/9 (Census 1978) XXXX. ZNA BA 68 XXXIX. ZNA BA 58: Ministry of BA 68/8 (Mabadiliko ya elimu Zanzibar, Education Hotuba ya makamo wa kwanza wa Rais mheshimiwa A.A.Karume, 21. BA 58/2 (Hotuba ya waziri wa elimu 3.1970, katika chuo cha Lumum ba) Ndugu Seif Sharif Hamad, 1979/80) BA 58/3 (Hotuba ya waziri wa elimu Seif Sharif Hamad, 1980/81) XXXXI. ZNA BA 81: Islamic Religion BA 58/4 (Hotuba ya waziri wa elimu BA 81/3 (Ripoti ya Taskforce ya Masoud Othman Sharif, 1981/82) Mafunzo ya Kiislamu) BA 58/5 (Hotuba ya waziri wa elimu Masoud Othman Sharif, 1982/83) BA 58/6 (Hotuba ya waziri wa elimu XXXXII. ZNA BA 82: Staff Omar Ramadhani Mapuri, 1983/84) BA 82/4: (Non European Staff List, Janu- BA 58/7 (Hotuba ya waziri wa elimu ary 1923) Omar Ramadhani Mapuri, 1986/87) BA 58/8 (Hotuba ya waziri wa elimu XXXXIII. ZNA BD 3 Soud Yussuf Mgeni, 1985/86 BA 58/10 (Hotuba ya waziri wa elimu BD 3/10 (Census 1988) Omar Ramadhan Mapuri, 1987/88) BA 58/11 (Hotuba ya waziri wa elimu XXXXIV. ZNA BE 31 Omar Ramadhan mapuri, 1988/89) BA 58/12 (Hotuba ya waziri wa elimu BE 31/1 (Makerere College Register Muhammad M.H. Mzale, 1989/90) 1922-1953) BA 58/13 (Hotuba ya waziri wa elimu Muhammad M.H. Mzale, 1990/91) XXXXV. ZNA HD 10 BA 58/14 (Hotuba ya waziri wa elimu Omar R. Mapuri, 1992/93) HD 10/42 (Koran School Report by Arab BA 58/15 (Hotuba ya waziri wa elimu Commission, Zanzibar 30.4.1983) Omar R. Mapuri, 1996/97) BA 58/16 (Hotuba ya waziri wa elimu XXXXVI. ZNA SB 1 Omar R. Mapuri, 1997/98) BA 58/17 (Hotuba ya waziri wa elimu SB 1/32 (al-shaykh al- ālam al- ulamā Omar R. Mapuri, 1998/99) asan b. Amīr) BA 58/18 (Hotuba ya waziri wa elimu No file access numbers had: Omar R. Mapuri, 1999/2000) a. SMZ report 2003/2004 education BA 58/19 (Hotuba ya waziri wa elimu (Hotuba ya waziri wa elimu, utama- Omar R. Mapuri, 2000/2001) duni na michezo, Mhe. Haroun A. BA 58/20 (Hotuba ya waziri wa elimu Sulaiman) Haroun A. Sulaiman, 2002/03) b. Dr. Sulaiman Amur, Khutba fakhāma BA 58/22 (Annual statistical abstract) rā is zinjibar wa-majlis al-inqilāb BA 58/24 (Hotuba ya waziri wa elimu (fī-khalīfa ittimā sana thalathīn Haroun A. Sulaiman, 2004/05) inqilāb zinjibar, 1994). sources 611

c. Material Used in the Public Record CO 688/4: Annual Administrative Re- Office (PRO) London ports 1921-1924 CO 688/5: Annual Administrative Re- Apart from the ZNA some relevant ports 1925-1929 material on Zanzibar may also be found CO 688/9: Annual Administrative Re- in the PRO in London. Of particular ports 1930-1933 interest are the colonial and foreign CO 688/11: Annual Administrative Re- office files (Access Codes CO and FO), port 1934 such as: CO 688/12: Annual Administrative Re- CO 537: Supplementary files port 1935 CO 601/4: Report Sir Bernard Reilly on CO 688/13: Annual Administrative Re- Arab Problems in Kenya and Zanzi- port 1936 bar, conf. 1948. CO 688/14: Annual Administrative Re- CO 618: Original Correspondence port 1937 CO 688: Sessional Papers and Annual CO 688/15: Annual Administrative Re- Administration Reports port 1938 CO 689: Government Gazettes CO 688/16: Annual Administrative Re- CO 690: Miscellanea and Statistics port 1939 CO 772: Correspondence Register CO 688/20: Annual Administrative Re- CO 805: Register of out letters ports 1940-1945 CO 822: Original Correspondence CO 688/30: Annual Administrative Re- CO 842: Acts (1925-1963). ports 1946-1947 Of real importance for questions of edu- CO 688/31: Annual Administrative Re- cation in Zanzibar are, however, only ports 1948-1949 files series PRO CO 618 and PRO CO CO 688/32: Annual Administrative Re- 688 (containing, amongst others, the port 1950 annual reports on education and CO 822/47/10: Conference of Directors other issues of Protectorate adminis- of Education tration) as well as PRO CO 822 (a CO 822/109/12: Conference of Directors particularly huge file of more than of Education for Kenya, Uganda, 3.000 subfiles, covering all British Tanganyika and Zanzibar 1941/42 East African Colonies). CO 822/151/5: Arabs Problems: Arabs CO 618/48/7: W.H. Ingrams book on Association Zanzibar ‘Zanzibar: its history and its people’, CO 822/204: Development of education request for subsidy in Tanganyika CO 618/60/2: 1934 Education policy CO 822/206: CDW grant for education memorandum of Advisory Council CO 822/207: 1953 Minutes of Confer- on Education, Zanzibar ence of Directors of Education in CO 618/60/15: Arab Association Zanzi- East Africa. bar Memorial (on education, appen- CO 822/208: Teaching of languages in dix by the Director of Education) Zanzibar CO 618/80/2: Improvement of Educa- CO 822/367: Ten-year plan for the tional Facilities in Zanzibar by P.W. development of African education in Williams, Acting Director of Educa- Tanganyika tion. CO 822/626: Outside financial help edu- CO 688/1: Annual Administrative Re- cation ports 1909-1912 CO 822/916: Abolition of Dual Jurisdic- CO 688/2: Annual Administrative Re- tion in Zanzibar (1954-1956) ports 1913-1914 CO 822/944: Higher education in Tang- CO 688/3: Annual Administrative Re- anyika ports 1915-1920 CO 822/981: 1954 Education, proposed 612 sources

development plans for Zanzibar An important source on Islamic educa- CO 822/1091: Development of education tion was file: in Tanganyika BW 90/71: Report by the Fact-Finding CO 822/1093: Policy of non-racial edu- Mission to Study Muslim Education cation in Tanganyika in East Africa (i.e. the Griffiths/Ser- CO 822/1153: Five-year plan for the jeant mission of 1957). development of African education in Information on the 1964 revolution in Tanganyika Zanzibar can be traced in the DO CO 822/1379: 1957 Muslim Association files. Some of these files have been of Zanzibar classified as either ‘top secret’ or CO 822/1380: 1957 Arab Association of ‘confidential’: Zanzibar DO 185/51: Military Intervention Zanzi- CO 822/1606: Policy on Education bar (top secret, status closed until (Report of the Committee on Educa- 2001) tion 1959) DO 185/60: Revolution/Casualties (con- CO 822/1656: Egyptian Propaganda in fidential, status closed until 2001) Zanzibar DO 185/68: Political Situation Zanzibar, CO 822/1820: 1957-59 Secondary Edu- British Land Forces Kenya Confer- cation in Zanzibar ence, Zanzibar and Pemba (confiden- CO 822/2645: 1960-1962 Zanzibar Edu- tial, status closed until 2001). cation Policy DO 214/118: East German aid to Zanzi- CO 822/2646: 1961 Assistence for Edu- bar cation from UAR DO 214/119: East German aid to Zanzi- CO 822/2647: 1961 Franco Comorian bar School CO 822/2648: 1960-62 CDW Scheme for Education sources 613

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e. General Reference

Colonial Office, Administrative Service List The Dictionary of National Biography The Dominions Office and Colonial Office List, London, 1939 Levy, Felice: Obituaries 1940-79. Roberts, Frank: Obituaries from ‘The Times’ (Vols. 1951-60, 1961-70, 1971-75)

f. Periodicals

Africa Confidential (2005), The Adal Insaf (1948, 1957), Change (Vol. 4), Dira (2003), al-Falaq (1938, 1939, 1944, 1946, 1951, 1952, 1953, 1954, 1955, 1956, 1957, 1958), The Guardian (2001, 2002, 2003, 2004, 2007), al-Huda (2004, 2007), Maarifa (1956), Maarifa (2002), Mtanzania (2004), Mwangaza (1954), Mwongozi (1948, 1950, 1953, 1954, 1955, 1956, 1957, 1958, 1959, 1963), an-Nah a (1952), an-Nuur (2001, 2002, 2003, 2004, 2007), Nasaha (2003, 2004, 2007), The Samachar (1952), Tanzanian Affairs (2004), Zanzibar Leo (2003, 2004, 2007), The Zanzibar Voice. index 633

INDEX a) Geographical locations and technical al-Azhar (university) 18, 90, 94, 101, terms 118, 201, 386, 417, 418, 420, 499 adab 152, 154, 164, 176, 174, 198, 201, Bagamoyo 13, 72, 217 211, 248, 498 Bagdad 80, 86, 90, 149, 168 adab al-ta līm 151, 152 Baghani (quarter) 106, 134 Advisory Council on Education 270, bait al- ajā ib 14, 336, 388 271, 274, 275, 279, 295, 297, 300, 301, Bakht al-Rū a (College) 283, 372, 411, 316, 323, 336, 497 426 Africa Muslim Agency 123, 124, 458, BAKWATA 72, 73, 91, 92 509 balāgha 154, 189-191, 206, 434, 534 African Association (AfA) 31-33, 41, Barza (mosque) 96, 98, 103, 106, 107, 419 378-380, 393, 394, 512-518 Africa International University (Khar- Bateson (report) 258, 546-548 toum) 118, 120, 124, 483, 486 bayān 95, 154, 170 Afro-Shirazi Party (ASP) 32, 34, 36, Beit el-Ras 362, 366, 372, 402, 458, 39-42, 44, 45, 47-49, 55, 56, 58, 361, 555-557 394, 462, 495 Benadir (coast) 66, 80 Afro-Shirazi Union (ASU) 36, 40-42 biāqāt arabiyya 329 Aga Khan (foundation, schools) 29, 30, Bohora (Ismā īlī) 29-31, 223-228, 235, 123, 228, 231-233, 235, 240-243, 471, 236, 239, 241 472, 485, 521-527 Bombay 18, 30, 216, 228, 229, 239 Amadiyya (‘Makadiani’ movement) Brawa 12, 33, 68, 75, 80, 82-86, 164 110, 112-114, 388 akhlāq 152, 210, 211, 418, 526, 535, 536 Cambridge Overseas (Examination Alawiyya 66, 68, 70, 71, 74, 75, 82, 87, System) 280, 332, 338, 402, 430, 88, 92-110, 114, 118, 128, 154, 163, 440-459, 470, 530 172, 195, 396, 398, 401 canon (concept of) 3-7, 65, 93, 103, 150, Anār al-Sunna (movement, see also 152, 153, 162, 164, 173-213 watu wa bidaa) 4, 58, 92, 125-135, Cape Town 105, 107, 109 511, 537 Chake Chake 38, 88, 230, 233, 273, 254, aqīda 3, 95, 154, 164, 167, 169, 170, 278, 281, 392, 489 173, 188, 202, 204, 212, 213, 526, Chama Cha Mapinduzi (CCM) 55-59, 531-536 92, 122, 125-127, 130, 133-135 Arab Association (AA) 26-28, 36, 43, chuo (vyuo)163-174, 508, 515 206-308, 311, 315-319, 330, 336, 350, Chuo Cha Kiislamu (CCK) 117-120, 122, 354, 371, 386, 390 123, 125, 134, 412, 474, 475, 483, 488, Arabic (teaching of; disputes over 508, 517, 531, 534-537 Kiswahili) 290, 292, 294, 297, 298, Chwaka 78, 89 302-322, 330-334, 380, 386, 393, 418, Civic United Front (CUF) 56-59, 127, 420, 423, 434, 436, 449, 451-453, 473, 134 487, 511, 518, 534, 536 Clove Growers’ Association 20, 21, 50 arū 154, 170 College of Education (CE) 119, 122-124, Ārya Kanya Vidyalaya (Girls’ School) 130, 457, 485, 486, 508, 517 225, 230, 233, 240 Commercial School 277, 278, 280, 342, Ārya Samāj 25, 225 555 634 index

‘Committee of 14’ 47, 544 Football 301, 402, 464, 517 Comorian School 471, 550, 557, 558 Forodhani (quarter, mosque) 82, 96, 98, Comoros, Comorians 22, 23, 46, 52, 53, 133, 271, 380, 417, 440 68, 75, 77, 89, 95-97, 100, 101, 107, Friends’ Industrial Mission 217, 219, 108, 124, 164, 171, 400, 401, 407-409, 221, 274, 472 466, 470, 495 corpus (concept of) 2-5, 164, 173 generation (concept of) 61, 65, 98, 99, Curriculum (development) 94, 150, 157, 108, 114-116, 409, 410 158, 161, 173 Ghazzali Muslim School 71, 110 Cutch (Kuchchh) 22, 29, 30 Gnan Verdak (School) 224, 229 Gofu (mosque) 77, 78, 96, 98, 196, 107, Darajani (quarter) 14, 272, 277, 278, 284, 378-381, 512-518 379 Government Central School (GCA) 226, Dar es Salaam 13, 46, 47, 49, 52, 72, 73, 272-280, 309, 324, 343, 348-354, 360, 75, 89, 90, 92, 362, 431, 433, 483 361, 372, 376, 380, 401, 553, 554 Datu Bhai Hemani Ithnā ashara Government Secondary School 98, 226, Kanyashala 225, 229, 235, 240, 471 232, 279, 283, 354, 355, 360, 362, 380, Delhi College 157, 158 386, 392, 393, 401, 471, 554, 555 Deoband 157, 158 Grant(s)-in-aid (grant-aided schools) Department of Education 269-272, 221-233, 237, 241, 242, 284 340-347, 370, 373-375, 391, 302, Gujarat(i) 22, 29, 106, 233, 234-238, 541, 542 298 Devji Master (school) 224, 229 dhikr (zikri) 63, 67, 68, 70, 72, 77, 81-85, Hadimu (population) 13, 22, 40, 42, 46, 94, 101, 103, 125, 388, 399, 406, 531 50, 57, 87, 119, 491 diāna (see also IRI) 9, 213, 234, 306, 324, adīth 3, 82, 88, 95, 103, 152-158, 164, 326, 328, 333, 334, 337, 385, 445, 463, 169, 170, 177, 185-188, 207, 208, 211, 532-537 213, 377, 378, 388, 396, 401, 418, 452, Discipline 160, 161, 274, 347-353, 502, 511, 518, 531-536 355-359, 361 Hadramaut 12, 22, 23, 66, 68, 74, 80, Dole (Rural Middle School, RMS) 252, 92-97, 101-105, 108, 111, 156, 164, 253, 279, 280, 283, 284, 316, 354, 362, 172, 173, 178, 179, 212, 344, 345, 372, 402, 549, 555-557 404-406, 530, 531 alqa 95, 150, 163, 170-172, 532 East Africa Muslim Welfare Society Hamamni (quarter) 77, 78 (EAMWS) 90, 91 Hijaz 74, 109, 173, 212 Egypt 13, 28, 37, 38, 80, 74, 94, 97, 11, Hindu(s) 24, 25, 30, 31, 34, 80, 95 114, 118, 122, 123, 128, 129, 135, 149, Hindu Free Girls’ School 225, 229, 233, 151, 156, 158-164, 171-173, 178, 179, 235, 240 201, 212, 271, 283, 284-286, 344, 364, Hindu Sunni (Memon) Community’s 417, 458, 464, 483, 530, 531, 536 Girls School 225, 230, 233, 235, 471 Elections 43-45, 56-58, 545, 546 Hindu Sunni (Memon) Madrasa 225, 230, 235, 471, 512, 515, 516 al-Falaq (journal) 36-39, 51, 94, 310, izb al-Ilā 36, 111 320-322, 353, 388, 418 ijāb 3, 125, 126, 166 falsafa 170, 201, 532 isāb 88 Faranji Mahall 157, 158 Holy Ghost Mission 217-223 fiqh 3, 82, 88, 94-96, 102, 103, 106, 107, Hoorbhai Kanyashala 225, 220, 230 152-158, 164, 169-171, 174, 178-185, Hujjatul Islam School 225, 229 201, 202, 208-213, 378, 379, 401, 418, 423, 452, 458, 502, 511, 514, 516, 518, Ibā ī,-iyya 17, 18, 28, 67-70, 102, 106, 531-536 200, 438, 439 index 635

īd (al-fir, al-ajj) 125, 129, 132, 133, Kizungu 290, 291, 311 167, 462, 506 Konkan (Kokni) 29, 30 ilm al-falak 95, 154, 195-200, 211-213, Kuvatul Islam Madrasa 224, 228, 230, 532 240 ilm al-rijāl 153 Kuwait 114, 118, 123, 124, 485, 517 India 15, 38, 74, 101, 122, 123, 149, 153, 156-162, 178, 179, 201, 241, 356, 372, Lamu 12, 23, 68, 93, 104, 163, 172, 198, 411, 530, 531 396-398 Indians (communities) 20-24, 29, 40, 42, Lancaster (schools) 161, 300 46, 52, 53, 223-243, 356-358 Latin (script) 112, 249, 270, 273, 289-293, Indian (schools) 215, 222-244, 287 322 Indian National Association (INA) 31, Legislative Council (LegCo) 19, 42, 43, 33, 238, 239, 275 45, 240, 306, 330, 339, 361 Industrial School 278 Lindi 23, 75, 76 Inspector of Religious Teaching 381-385, lugha 96, 107, 154, 156, 170, 189-191, 392 201, 206, 207, 211, 212, 514, 518, Iraq 118, 344, 346, 416 531-536 Iran 73, 74, 124 Lumumba College 466, 471, 489 al-Ilā (journal) 72, 110, 379 Islamic Religious Instruction (IRI) 9, Maarifa (journal) 59, 511 159, 164, 203, 207, 209, 293, 303, 323, mad 154, 170, 174, 191-194, 209 325, 453, 464, 499-507, 530 madrasa, madāris 8, 9, 70, 93, 103, 105, 108, 120, 150-174, 457, 457, Istanbul 101, 109 508-518 Madrasat Amīriyya 91, 119, 202, 510, Jamā at al-Tablīgh 123 511 al-Jamī at al-Islāmiyya 106, 111 Madrasat Bā Kathīr 94, 97, 104-107, 117, Java 88, 156, 179, 194, 211, 271 172, 429, 512-518 Jeanes (system, fund) 253-257, 556 Madrasat al-Īmān 510, 517 Jibrili (mosque) 107, 512-516 Madrasat al-Nūr 119, 120, 134, 201, 202, Joshi Master’s Private Gujarati School 510, 512-518, 530, 535, 536 225, 229 Madrasat al-Muammadieh 224, 228, Jumuiya ya Maimamu Zanzibar 122, 233-235, 240, 471, 533 130, 132 Madrasa Resource Centre 521-527 juz amma 110, 168, 169, 202, 211, 234, Makerere 39, 50, 233, 279, 321, 324, 533 343-346, 360, 402, 428, 542, 543 Makunduchi (district) 13, 32, 42, 49, 78, kalām 418 79, 86-91, 119, 131, 223, 273, 278, Kano 122, 156, 411, 429 344, 382, 385, 389, 390, 510, 522 Karume Technical College 475, 487 Malindi (quarter, mosque) 34, 77, 82, Kenya 33, 51, 71, 110, 114, 127, 156, 105, 107, 122, 134, 376, 377, 522 242, 243, 254, 376, 380, 395-400, al-Manār (journal) 97, 111 523, 526 Manga 21, 2, 34, 40, 44, 52 Khōja (Ismā īlī) 29-31, 223-228, manqūlāt 88, 153, 154, 157-159 235-243 maniq 95, 189, 201, 418, 423, 434 Kiembe Samaki (quarter) 35, 88, 108 ma qūlāt 88, 153-159 Kilemba (turban) 171, 378 marketable skills (concept) 114, 164, Kilwa 23, 76, 82 172, 287, 300, 301, 530 Kikwajuni (quarter) 49, 106, 107, maulidi 54, 125, 130, 131, 134, 166-170, 128-130, 171, 360, 557 212, 397-399, 401, 408, 464, 489, King George VI College 362, 549, 555 506 Kisomo (Korani) 125, 126, 199 mawlid (al-nabi) 63, 67-72, 93, 152, 191, Kizimkazi (district) 13, 32, 280 192, 509, 511, 516, 518, 531, 534 636 index

Mazungumzo (ya walimu) (journal) 278, Nūraniyya 82, 102 354, 355, 387, 392 Medina (Islamic University of) 115, Oman 11-13, 21, 34, 66-70, 88, 124, 363, 118-121, 516, 517 396, 485 Medina graduates 116-135 Memon (Sunni Hanafi) 29-31, 225-227, Paje (district) 282, 283 512, 513 Pakistan 74, 122-124, 346, 483, 515, 526, Michenzani (quarter) 49, 60, 76, 117, 531 129 parrot (talk) 8, 247, 248, 303, 311, 320, Mihadhara 132, 462 337 Milad al-Nabi Association 29, 386 Pemba 12, 13, 18, 20, 26, 31, 32, 40-45, Ministry of Education (development) 50-58, 89, 108, 219, 220, 230-233, 469, 470, 472-485, 494-497, 544 251, 258, 262, 263, 278, 281, 285, 286, mīrāth 120, 121, 153 322, 324, 372, 384, 385, 392 Mission (schools) 217-222, 287 Phelps-Stokes-Fund 253, 254, 277 Mkoani 220, 233, 249, 273, 278, 281 Popat Master School 225, 230 Mkokotoni (district) 76-79, 89, 197, Pota Master School 225, 230 281 Mkunazini (quarter) 77, 78, 107, 219, Qā ī(s) 17, 18, 28, 38, 51, 55, 77, 88, 89, 222, 230, 513 97, 101, 102, 104, 107, 110, 119-122, Mombasa 12, 15, 68, 71, 82, 93, 108, 134, 282, 304, 318, 376, 379, 386, 388, 110, 163, 198, 290, 363, 379, 395-399, 390-400, 414, 416, 564, 542 428 Qādiriyya 66-95, 102, 103, 107, 172, 195, 388, 398, 399, 401, 463, 510 moon (sighting) 121, 129, 130, 132 Qatar 114, 130, 517 Muafaka 57, 127 qaīda 154, 174, 191-194, 209, 511, 516, Muftī 16, 17, 72, 88-91, 97, 102, 121, 122, 526 131-135, 285, 407, 510 Qur ān (teaching of) 126, 154-157, Mulla Raza School 224, 229 164-169, 202, 234, 236, 248, 273, Muna''amat al-Da wa al-Islāmiyya 123, 290, 296, 298, 302, 314, 315, 318, 319, 452, 457, 502, 508, 509 377, 418, 442, 464, 490-494, 502, 509, Muslim Academy 70, 71, 98, 117, 199, 511-513, 546-548 120, 128, 129, 202-211, 216, 268, Qur ān (translation of) 110-114, 387, 284, 323, 333-336, 346, 376, 403-407, 396, 397 411-459, 464, 466, 467, 588, 496, 517, Qur ānic schools 8, 9, 71, 154-174, 215, 529, 530, 531, 535, 536, 554 216, 244-269, 273, 274, 281-284, Mwaka Kogwa 54, 131 287, 323-334, 381-385, 401, 488-499, Mwongozi (journal) 27, 36-38, 388, 393 509-511, 524 al-Nah a (journal) 36, 111 Rābiat al- Ālam al-Islāmī 395, 408 naw 95, 96, 107, 154, 156, 173, 174, Radio (Zanzibar, see Sauti ya Unguja) 177, 189-191, 201, 206, 207, 211, 212, Raha Leo (quarter) 48, 51, 76, 78, 91, 378, 379, 514, 518, 531, 534 122, 129, 130, 172 al-Najā (journal) 36, 111 Ramadan 89, 98, 104-106, 120, 132, 166, Ng’ambo (area) 14, 43, 44, 47, 51, 53, 76, 188, 192, 378, 379, 394, 396, 408, 462, 78, 91, 107, 117, 124, 128, 171, 172, 506 218, 219, 495 reform (movements of) 62-65, 109, Nigeria 15, 158, 159, 405, 406, 411, 412, 114-118 429, 530 revolution 40, 45-59, 116, 117, 393-395, niqāb 125, 131 407, 439, 440, 461-469, 488-490 Nkrumah Teacher Training College 471, Revolutionary Council 47, 48, 52, 55, 474, 475, 483, 487 544 index 637

Ribā al-Riyā a 94, 172, 396, 428, 514 State University of Zanzibar (SUZA) Rural Middle School (see Dole) 119, 120, 122, 455, 458, 475, 487, 488 Salafiyya 70, 101, 103, 106, 109-116, 159, St. Andrew’s 218, 219 379 St. Joseph’s Convent 217, 218, 222, 224, arf 95, 154, 170, 189-191, 201, 206, 207, 230, 233, 241, 284, 471, 549, 554 212, 378, 449, 518, 531, 534, 536 St. Monica’s 219, 222, 471, 472 Saudi Arabia 73, 74, 108, 118, 124, 127, St. Paul’s 219, 222, 278, 471, 472 132, 135, 164, 201, 213, 346, 395, 458, Sudan 73, 118, 122-124, 128, 129, 135, 466, 483, 485, 515, 517, 531, 536 158, 159, 344, 345, 372, 411, 412, 451, Sauti ya Unguja (Radio Zanzibar) 39, 51, 452, 455, 458, 483, 531 288, 402 Suez Canal 37, 38, 116 Say ūn 94, 95, 514 Syllabus (development) 150, 172, 173, Sayyid Khalifa College 284, 356-358, 234, 235, 238, 239, 247, 275, 289-338, 362, 437, 549, 557 356, 385, 423-426, 434, 435, 443-449, Sayyida Matuka College 283, 365-369, 451-454, 468, 486, 499-507, 514, 549, 554 518-521, 525, 526, 530-537, 558-560 Sayyida Nunuu College 282, 284, Swahili 24, 26, 51, 66 365-368, 549, 557 School of Arabic Studies (Kano) 411, Taasisi (Institute) 474, 475 429 tafsīr 82, 89, 95, 96, 103, 153-158, 170, School of Oriental and African Studies 188, 205, 212, 378-380, 388, 396, 401, (SOAS, London) 214, 346, 386, 418, 443-445, 449, 458, 534-536 402-404 tafī' 155, 165, 169, 201 scouting (boy scouts) 300, 355 tajwīd 103, 153, 154, 169, 170, 177, 198, Shādhiliyya 71, 72, 75, 95, 172, 194, 195, 202, 202, 205, 377, 418, 449, 452, 518, 401, 463 534-536 Shāfi ī (school of law) 17, 18, 28, 69, 91, alab al- ilm 165, 168, 170-173 153, 173, 178, 179, 201, 389, 414, 415, ta līm 150-153, 532 418 Tanganyika 32, 3, 49, 71, 72, 90, 91, 217, Shamba (regions) 14, 76, 87, 88, 102, 219, 242, 329 107, 118, 489 Tanzania 49, 55, 56, 72, 73, 78, 87, 91, Shangani (quarter) 218, 222, 510 92, 115, 116, 123, 126, 132, 395, 473, Shī a Imāmī Ismā īlī Kanyashala 224, 474 227, 228, 240 tarāwī (prayers) 96, 105, 107, 192, 381 Shī a Imāmī Ismā īlī School 224, 228, tarbiya 150-152, 501, 532 240 ta rīkh 198, 200, 423, 502, 518 Shī a Ithnā ashara (community, schools) Tarīm 95, 98, 104, 345, 406, 428, 514 25, 30, 31, 223-229, 233 taawwuf 3, 82, 95, 154, 156, 169, 170, Shir 22, 34, 40 174, 194-197, 210-213, 378, 418, 423, Shirazi 25, 26, 31, 39, 40, 43, 64, 53, 66, 532-536 67 tawīd 82, 88, 95, 154, 156, 170, 188, 189, Shirazi Association (SA) 26, 32, 33, 41, 201, 202, 204, 212, 213, 378, 419, 423, 42, 343 452, 502, 511, 518, 526, 531-536 sīra 164, 170, 191-194, 209, 210, 212, Teacher Training School (College) 276, 419, 511, 518, 534-536 278, 279, 282, 284, 333, 334, 339, 343, Sir Euan Smith Madrasa (SESM) 354, 362, 365-369, 371, 372, 376, 380, 224-227, 234-236, 239-241, 273, 294, 386, 393, 402, 458, 459, 471, 534, 549, 335, 417, 471, 549, 554 556, 557 social skills 165, 530 The Adal Ināf 31, 36, 51 Somalia, Somalis 34, 77, 80 ibb (al-nabī) 170, 199, 211, 212 staff (education department) 340-346 Tumbatu 13, 77, 87 638 index

Uamsho (movement) 57, 58, 73, 116, Abd al-Wārith, Sa īd 128, 129, 441, 442, 125, 126, 130, 134 454, 561 ubao (blackboard) 168, 172, 211, 532 Abduh, Muammad 6, 101, 110, 111 uganga (waganga) 125, 199, 463 Abubakar, Muammad 324, 328 Ukutani (quarter, madrasa) 88, 97, Ahmad, Farid Hadi 130 103-107, 117, 510, 512-518 al- Ajīzī, Abd al-Bāri b. Abd al-Bāri al- Umma (party) 41, 46-49, 53, 54, 58 Ajīzī 88, 271-273, 284, 380, 561 Unguja 13, 15, 26, 31, 32, 40-45, 50-58, Alawī, Yayā 354, 356 96, 108, 251, 258, 263, 281, 322, Aley, Juma 56, 346, 353-355, 543, 562 324 al-Amawī (al-Umawī), Abd al- Azīz b. Universities’ Mission to Central Africa Abd al-Ghanī 70, 75-87, 102, 389, (UMCA) 96, 11, 217-222, 278 562 uūl al-dīn 164, 174, 188, 204 al-Amawī, Burhān b. Abd al- Azīz 77, uūl al-fiqh 154, 178, 423, 434, 452, 458, 79, 89, 101-103, 301, 542, 562 518, 534 al-Amawī, āhir b. Abī Bakr 77, 79, 89, 108, 207, 301, 303, 379, 380, 542, Wahhābiyya 2, 6, 63, 119, 177, 397, 399 562 waqf (awqāf) 17, 71, 96, 107, 120, 121, Ameir, Amūr Alī (al-Marūbī) 319, 150, 223, 225, 462, 512, 514 331, 332, 336, 344, 346-348, 371-375, Waqf Commission 17, 78, 118-122, 135, 435, 469, 490, 494, 496 437, 455, 458, 497, 499 Amīr, āfi' b. 79, 80, 385 watu wa bidaa 116-135 Amīr, asan b. Amīr al-Shirāzī 70, 72, Wete 230-233, 273, 274, 278, 362, 383, 76, 80, 86-92, 98, 105, 209, 390, 510, 511 390, 391 Ameir, Khamis Abdallah 41, 48, 563 witr (prayers) 96, 105, 107, 192, 381 Amour, Salmin 54, 56, 58, 118, 130, 478, 510, 531, 563 zama za siasa 11, 34, 35, 76, 431 Arjani, A.R. 227, 235, 593 Zanzibar National Party (ZNP) 28, 35, al- Azrī, Sa īd b. Abdallāh b. Amūr 392, 36, 39-47, 56, 128, 495 533 Zanzibar National Union (ZNU) 28, Azzan, ‘Ustādh’ Khalid Hamdan 130 34-36 Zanzibar and Pemba People’s Party Bā Alawī, Yūsuf b. Alawī b. Yūsuf 390 (ZPPP) 37, 41-47, 56, 495 Baashan (Ba Ashin, properly: Bā Zanzibar University 119, 122, 123, 485 ashwān), Amad āli 563 zikri (see dhikr) Babb, B.A. 340, 411, 541, 593 zikri ya dufu 67, 77, 82, 84, 85, 389 ‘Babu’, Abd al-Ramān Muammad 36, zikri ya kukohoa 67, 81, 83-86, 389 41, 46-52, 96, 97, 464, 563, 564 Bachu (also: Pachu, Bachoo), Nassor 73, 115, 128-133, 564 b) Persons al-Badawī, Alī b. Amed (Jamal al-Layl) 437, 439, 564 Abbūd, Sharīf ( Abd al-Fatā Jamal al- al-Badawī, Amad b. Alī 396 Layl) 401 Bakari, Seif 41, 42, 47, 48, 564 Abdallāh, Sayyid Umar 70, 114, 324, Bā Kathīr, Abdallāh 70, 95, 97-109, 114, 340, 345, 347, 373, 375, 376, 400-410, 169, 172, 378, 379, 513-516, 565 412, 415, 416, 422-440, 454, 493, 510, Bā Kathīr, Abū Bakr b. Abdallāh 89, 97, 543 100, 104-106, 378, 514, 516, 565 Abd al-Nāir, Jamāl (President of Egypt) Bā Kathīr, Abdallāh b. Abī Bakr b. 37, 38, 285 Abdallāh, alias Ma alim Bā Kathīr Abd al-Wadud, Juma 441, 445, 450, 451, 97, 99, 117, 123, 134, 514-517, 523, 465, 561 565 index 639

Bakore, Muammad b. Umar 379 al-Bū Sa īdī, Khalīfa b. Sa īd (Sultan) 15, Balfaqīh (also: Bilfaqīh), family 23, 345, 16 439 al-Bū Sa īdī, Alī b. Sa īd (Sultan) 15, 16 al-Baluchi, Sa īd b. Alī b. Muammad al-Bū Sa īdī, amad b. Thwaynī (Sultan) 390 16, 18, 81 Bā Qashmar, Muammad b. Muammad al-Bū Sa īdī, Khālid b. Barghash (Sultan) 97, 111, 565 16, 17 Bā Qashmar, Alī b. Muammad b. al-Bū Sa īdī, amad b. Muammad Muammad al- Abbāsī 390, 565 (Sultan) 17 al-Barwānī (family) 23, 28, 53 al-Bū Sa īdī, Alī b. amūd (Sultan) 17, al-Barwānī, Alī b. Khamīs b. Sālim 69, 102, 269, 271 96, 100, 566 al-Bū Sa īdī, Khalīfa b. ārub (Sultan) al-Barwānī, Muammad b. Alī b. 17, 45, 107, 311, 393 Khamīs 566 al-Bū Sa īdī, Abdallāh b. Khalīfa (Sultan) al-Barwānī, Musin b. Alī b. Isā 100, 45 104, 106, 379, 513, 514, 566 al-Bū Sa īdī, Jamshīd b. Abdallāh al-Barwānī, Muammad b. Sālim b. (Sultan) 45 Hilāl 37, 47, 345, 346, 354, 356, 385, al-Bū Sa īdī, Sayf b. Sulaymān 27, 316, 423, 435, 566 569 al-Barwānī, Hilāl Muammad Hilāl 28, 227, 309, 336, 567 Chaurembo, Abdallah Iddi 72, 89, 91 al-Barwānī, Alī Musin 28, 34, 37-41, Churchill, Winston 299, 300 44, 46, 106, 114, 205, 284, 285, 334, Cox, Sir Christopher 430, 431 Crofton, R.H. 275, 294, 295 345, 346, 353, 355, 369, 378, 393, 419, 423, 431, 437, 543, 544, 567 al-Dahhān, Muammad b. Muammad al-Barwānī, Badr b. Muammad 27, 285, 404, 417-422, 428, 454 567 Damān, Sa īd b. Muammad 88, 100, al-Barwānī, Muammad b. amūd 43, 105, 379, 393, 569 47, 53, 567 Dale, Godfrey (Canon) 112, 113, 275, al-Barwānī, amūd b. Muammad 53, 295 568 Daud, al-ājj Muammad 77, 78, 80 Bassaleh, Ally 73, 115, 130 Davies, Geraint George 347, 362, 374, (Bin) Wazīr, see Wazīr 424, 594 Bhatia, Sita Rani 365, 373 Dedes, Abd al-Ramān 73, 78, 569 Bingurnah, Sa īd Mafū' 345, 542, 568 Dickson, W.A. 356-359, 594 Blaxland, Renato William 265-268, 340, 344, 541, 593 al-Farsy, Jābir b. āli b. Qāsim 106, Borafia, Mtumwa 334, 350 377, 570 Bowen, Miss Joan 285, 286, 366-371, al-Farsy, Abdallāh āli 37, 62, 69, 71, 593 73, 81-86, 93-98, 101, 102, 106-108, Bū Alī, Sa īd Hilāl 386, 420, 568 110-115, 127-130, 173, 201, 205, 209, al-Burī, Alī b. Muammad (‘Hemed’) 323, 324, 326, 329-331, 334, 340, 344, 390, 391, 395 346, 347, 375-400, 402, 404, 409, 414, Bulsara, Rati 31, 36, 44, 568 416, 419, 423, 465, 494, 496, 513, 515, Bū Sa īdī (Āl Bū Sa īd; family) 22, 28, 542 569 al-Farsy, Sha bān b. āli 353, 355, al-Bū Sa īdī, Sa īd b. Sulān (Sultan) 12, 362-364, 372, 377, 380, 465, 472, 322 492-494 al-Bū Sa īdī, Mājid b. Sa īd (Sultan) al-Farsy, Jābir aydar Jābir 377, 510, 12-14 570 al-Bū Sa īdī, Barghash b. Sa īd (Sultan) al-Farsy, āli b. Sālim b. Zagar 381, 13, 14, 68, 69, 81, 82, 101, 102 513 640 index

Fatawi, Issa b. Musa al-Shirazi (Fatawi imīd, Mwalimu imīd b. Abdallāh Issa) 89, 105, 390, 393, 394, 438, 510, (alias ‘Mu allim imīd’) 96, 513, 542, 570 516, 573 al-Fayal, Sayf b. amūd 27, 28, 37, 358, imid, Yusuf 41, 42, 48, 573 416, 421, 438, 570 imīd, Rajab 324, 325, 344, 402, 542, al-Filānī, Muammad b. Khalfān ‘Haji 573 Suwedi’ 77, 80, 100, 106, 570, 571 Hollis, Sir Claude 277, 301, 304, 351, Foster, Robert Spence 321, 323, 340, 541, 541 594 Hollingsworth, Lawrence William 36, 227, 276, 278, 279, 301, 340-343, 346, al-Ghaythī (family) 28, 571 347, 353-356, 380, 386, 409 al-Ghaythī, Sa īd b. Rashīd b. Sālim 108, al-usaynī, Amad b. Alī b. ‘Mwinyi 227, 324, 419, 571 Mkuu’ (alias Sayyid Manab) 70, al-Ghaythi, Harith b. Khelef b. Khamis 96-105, 108, 111, 513, 573 89, 119, 121, 285, 437, 439, 571 al-usaynī, āmid (b. Amad) Manab al-Ghazzālī, Muammad 71, 110, 204 71, 96, 98-100, 104, 114, 350, 378, Ghosheh, Abdallāh 404, 414, 415, 417 380, 409, 513, 542, 572, 573 Greig, Anthony Alan McGregor 368-372, al-usaynī, Amad b. āmid (b. 427, 431, 594, 595 Amad) Manab 73, 96, 99, 100, 104, 114, 437-439, 441, 444, 445, al-a ramī, Rashīd b. āmid (‘Mma- 465, 573 konde’) 73, 106, 128, 571 al-usaynī, Muammad b. āmid al-a ramī, Abdallāh b. Muammad Manab 96 al-usaynī, Abū Bakr b. Abd al-Ramān 28, 29, 334, 353, 354, 356, 419, 439, (alias Sayyid Manab) 104, 105, 573 542, 571 al-usaynī, Muammad Manab 73, al-a ramī, Abū l-asan b. Amad al- 115, 573 addār 391, 392, 571 al-usaynī, Amad b. usayn b. al- al-ājj (el-Haj), Muammad Abeid Shaykh Abī Bakr b. Sālim 105, 574 249, 256, 346 Hamad, Seif Shariff 54-58, 571 Iddi, Burhan 76, 172, 495, 574 Hanga, Abdallah Kassim 39, 41, 47-49, Ingrams, Harold 247, 248, 301, 303, 306, 53, 572 596 Hann, Stanley Fran 267, 323, 332, 334, Issa, Ali Sultan (al-Ismā īlī/al-Esmaili) 340, 356-360, 363-375, 291, 407, 431, 41, 48, 54, 363, 394, 464, 465, 469, 434, 438, 542, 595 472, 488, 489, 492-498, 544, 574 al-Hanzawanī, Muammad Abdallāh 100, 105-107, 572 Jamāl, Muammad 97 al-Hanzawanī, Muammad Amad 28, Jahadhmī, Alī Amad 574 572 Jahadhmī, Abdallāh āli 402, 575 al-arthī (family) 23, 28 Jamal, ‘Ustādh’ 115, 130, 131 al-arthī, Abdallāh b. Sulaymān 27-29, Jamal al-Layl (family) 23, 93, 107, 513 416, 419, 421, 431, 439, 572 Jamal al-Layl, Alī b. Abdallāh b. asan al-arthī, Abdallāh b. amūd 27, 572 70, 575 Harvey, Reginal James 282, 324, 340, Jamal al-Layl, Abū l-asan b. Amad 412, 541, 595 77-79, 99, 100, 105, 390, 401, 423, asan, Muammad Abdille 84, 487 575 ayāt, Sulaymān 98 Jamal al-Layl, Muafa Ja far 105, 575 Hendry, William 216, 239, 242, 272, 276, Jamal al-Layl, Muammad b. Alawī 100, 295, 297, 299-311, 315-318, 340, 349, 105, 575, 576 352-356, 541, 595, 596 Jamal al-Layl, asan b. ‘Shaykh’ 324, al-ibshī, Alī b. Muammad 94, 101 402, 576 index 641

Jamal al-Layl, Alawī b. Abd al-Wahhāb Kombo, Kisutu b. 77, 80 99, 379, 404, 416, 557, 576 Kombo, Mamūd b. 78, 80, 85, 89, 389, Jamal al-Layl, Sulaymān (b. Muammad) 510, 578, 579 al- Alawī 96, 99, 100, 379, 380, 390, Kombo, Thabit 32, 41, 48, 579 391, 419, 423, 437-439, 465, 513, 514, 516, 576, 577 Lakha, Amad M.H. 29, 346, 431, 579, Jiddawī, Bibi Laīfa 370, 371 580 al-Jīlānī, Abd al-Qādir 3, 80, 90 (al-)Lamkī (also: Lemke, Lemki; family) Jivanji, Yusufali Esmailji 238, 275, 295, 28, 52 298, 577 Lamkī, Sulaymān b. Naor 350, 580 Jivanji, Tayyibali Ismailji 29, 31, 577 Lamkī, Nāir b. Sulaymān 111, 580 Johnson, George Benjamin 233, 241, Lamkī, Amad (b. Muammad b. Nāir) 247, 253, 254, 258, 259, 276, 277, 311, 28, 34-39, 580 313, 315, 319, 340, 341, 347-354, 356, Lamkī, Muammad b. Nāir 37, 227, 409, 541 295, 364, 416, 419, 580 Johnson, Georgina Rose 253, 278, 341, Lyne, R.N. 88, 272, 597 352, 353, 596 Jumbe (Mwinyi), Aboud 34, 47, 54, 55, al-Ma āmirī, Amed amūd 580 117, 118, 345, 347, 354, 360-362, 444, al-Ma āmirī, Bibi Samīra Sālim Sayf 333, 463, 467, 468, 530 336, 347, 364-372, 375, 409, 435, 472, 580 Karimji, Seth Yusufali A. (and family) Madaha, Mwalimu 77, 80 31, 223, 226, 577 Mahfudh (properly: Mafū'), Ali Said Karume, Abeid Amani 29-32, 38, 40-54, 41, 48, 580 117, 125, 334-336, 394, 407, 419, Magid, Muammad 205, 517 440, 442-444, 462-468, 470, 472, 475, Makame, Hasnu 47, 48, 580 492-496, 530, 577 Makungu, Musa 89, 119, 121, 129, 441, Karume, Amani Abeid 57, 59, 118, 431 443, 445, 449, 451, 454, 542, 580, Kermalli (family) 29, 424, 512, 578 581 Khahoo, Abdulrasul 345, 373, 374, 543, al-Makhzūmī, Muammad b. Abd al- 597 Ramān 96, 98, 100, 354, 378, 581 al-Khalāī, Mas ūd Thānī 28, 29 Manab, see al-usaynī Khalfān, Muammad al-Filānī, see al- al-Mar ashī, Muammad Taqi 581 Filānī al-Mar ashī, Sulān Alī 437, 439, 581 Khalfan, Rashid 123, 578 al-Mashhūr, Alawī b. Abd al-Ramān Khamis A. Khamis 120, 455 94, 95, 101 Khamisi, Ja far 129, 130, 133, 574 Mathew, Thomas Benjamin Itty 347, al-Kharūī (family) 28, 578 356-360 al-Kharūī, Amad Sayf (b. Nāir) 37, Maudūdī, Abū l-A lā 6, 113, 397 346, 354, 356, 578 al-Maulī (al-Ma ūlī; family) 336, 581 al-Kharūī, Su ūd Muammad 578 al-Mazrū ī, family 12, 28, 581 al-Khaīb (also: al-Khatibu), Muammad al-Mazrū ī, Alī b. Abdallāh b. Nafi 69, b. Umar 100, 104-107, 378, 381, 513, 581 514, 516, 578 al-Mazrū ī, al-Amīn b. Alī 71-73, 100, al-Kindī (also: al-Kindy, Kinde), family 106, 109-114, 203, 207, 290, 301, 379, 28, 578 532, 581, 582 Kinde, Sālim 306, 314, 578 al-Mazrū ī, Muammad Qāsim b. Alī al-Kindī, Abd al-Ramān b. Muammad 110, 395, 581, 582 88, 271 Mbangwa, Fādhil b. Alī 98 al-Kindī, Sa īd Muammad Sa īd, 437, Mchano, Shamim Khamis 122, 455 439, 578 Mekenga, asan 76, 79 Kirk, Sir John 223, 290, 541 Mgeni, Muammad Alī Muammad Kombo, Habib Ali 89, 542 331, 431, 597 642 index al-Miskirī, Sālim b. Alī b. Amūr (also: Nasibu, Jamal Ramadhan 39, 585 Meskiri, Miskiri, Maskery, Maskiri) Naor, Muammad 73, 78, 89, 211, 585, 330, 582 586 al-Miskirī, Hāshil b. Rashīd 28, 29, 37, Natepe, Abdallah Said 41, 42, 48, 586 311, 421, 582 Njugu, Saidi 128, 129 Mjanakheri, Abdallāh Abd al-Khayr 76, Nyerere, Julius 42, 55, 72, 91, 92, 464, 77, 79 505 Mjanakheri, Bi Amīna 76 Mkelle, Burhān b. Muammad Mkelle Okello, John 46-48, 586 al-Qumurī (al-Qumrī) 70, 77, 79, 99, 201, 206, 303, 542, 582 Pearce, Major F.B. 215, 237, 238, 246, Mkelle, Muammad b. Burhan 582 269, 292-294, 299, 541, 598 Mmakonde, Sa īd b. Abdallāh Lindi 100, 106 al-Qaānī, Muyī al-Dīn b. Abdallāh Mmalindi, Muammad b. Qāmūs b. 70, 75, 77, 79, 82, 98, 208, 586 Faqīh 105, 582 Qullatayn, Umar 77-79, 587 Moyo, Hassan Nasser 59, 50, 443, 444, Qullatayn, Muammad b. Umar 76, 78, 469, 489, 544, 582 80, 587 Mranzi, Ali Khatib 120, 122, 445, Qullatayn, Abū Bakr ‘Shibli’ 78, 80, 587 449-451, 542, 582 Qullatayn, Alī (b. Umar) 78, 80, 513, Msabbah, Saloum 115, 130 587 Msema Kweli, Alī 76, 79 Qullatayn, Umar b. Alī b. Umar 78, Mu adhdhin, Abdallāh al-Baghwī 96, 587 Qullatayn, Amad b. Abībakar (alias 99, 513, 582 ‘Amad Badawī’) 41, 48, 54, 78, 587 al-Mughayrī (Mugheiry; family) 22, Qub, Sayyid 2, 6, 205, 397 582 al-Mughayrī, Sa īd b. Alī 227, 312, 330, Rama ān, usayn b. 80 416, 582 al-Rawwāī (also: Ruwwahi, Ruwehi, al-Mughayrī, Sulān Khamīs 28, 277, Ruwihi; family) 17, 28, 365, 587 381, 582 al-Rawwāī, Nāir b. Sālim b. Udaym al-Mughayrī, Alī b. Sulān 43, 582 111, 322, 587 al-Mughayrī, Muammad b. Sa īd 29, al-Rawwāī, Muhannā Nāir (Naor) 582, 583 27, 421, 439, 542, 587 al-Mughayrī, Muammad b. Sulān b. al-Rawwāī. Sa īd b. Sālim 28, 37, 587 Khamīs 583 al-Rawwāī, amūd b. Sālim (b. Muhammad, Khalid 120, 121 Muammad) 27-29, 423, 431, 438, al-Mū īnī, usayn b. Abdallāh (Mwinyi) 439, 587 75, 79, 86, 583 al-Rawwāī, Abū Muslim 36, 587 Mukhtalif, Shaykh 88, 217 Rehema, Bibi 77, 588 al-Mundhirī (also: Mandhiri, Mendhiri, Reihan (Rehani), Mtoro Kingo 39, 41, Mendhry; family) 17, 22, 28, 84, 583 587, 588 al-Mundhirī, Alī b. Muammad 89, 301, Ri ā, Muammad Rashīd 6, 110, 111 583 Rivers-Smith, J. 215, 216, 236, 244, 245, al-Muronī, Amad b. Muammad (‘al- 269, 272-276, 289, 292-294, 300, 301, Mlomry’) 97, 100, 106, 111, 378, 340, 541, 598 582 al-Riyāmī (family) 22, 588 al-Muronī, Muammad b. Amad (‘al- al-Riyāmī, (Muhammad b.) Mas ūd (Ma- Mlomry’) 96, 98, 181, 582 sudi) b. Alī (alias ‘Bwana Udi’) 27, Musa, Saidi 73, 115, 584, 585 29, 588 Musa, Ali Sharif 42-44, 585 al-Riyāmī, Amad b. Sulaymān 28, 588 Mwinyi, Ali Hassan 55, 118, 133, 346, al-Riyāmī, Sālim b. Alī 28, 588 375, 402, 469, 472, 485, 531 index 643

Sālim (Bin Sālim; family) 23, 93, 588 al-ahāwī, Rifā a 150, 151 Sālim, Amad b. Abī Bakr b. usayn b. Tajo, Ameir Tajo ‘Mdogo’ 32, 41-43, 98, 588 334-336, 361, 419, 423, 430, 431, Salim, Ahmad Salim 41, 588 590 Samīra, Bibi (see al-Ma āmirī, Bibi Tajo, Ameir Tajo ‘Mkubwa’ 89, 119, 227, Samīra Sālim Sayf) 441, 449, 495, 510, 511, 590, 591 Schacht, Joseph 108, 285, 436 Tata, G.K. 227, 273, 598 Serjeant, R.B. 403, 426-428 Tejani, Mohammed Jaffer Abdulhusein Shamte b. Hamadi, Muhammad 42, 333, 434, 435, 598, 599 44-46, 336, 354, 381, 543, 588, 589 Topan (family) 223-225, 336 Sharif, Ali Musa 42, 44, 589 Twala, Abd al-Aziz 48, 591 Sharif (Shariff), Othman 34, 39, 41, 47-49, 53, 345, 374, 469, 542, 544, Uways (al-Bārawī), b. Muammad 70, 589 76-87, 114 Sha ūrī, b. al-ājj ‘Mshirazi’ 75-77, 79, 589 Vuai, Makame 76, 77, 80 Shāirī, Abdallāh b. Muammad 106, 589 Wakil, Idrissa Abdul 47, 48, 54, 56, 118, al-Shirāzī, Alī b. Khamīs b. Faqīh 390 374, 469, 531, 543, 544, 591 al-Shirāzī, Alī b. Umar 75, 76, 79, 589 Wāshilī, Abd al-Raīm b. Mamūd al- al-Shirāzī, Umar b. Alī 75, 76, 80 Wāshilī Mngazija 88, 89, 100, 108, al-Shirāzī, Muyī al-Dīn b. Umar b. Alī 591, 592 28, 75, 80 Wazīr (family) 93, 592 al-Shuhaybī, Sālim b. Sa īd b. Sayf 99, Wazīr, Abdallāh b. Wazīr ‘Msujini’ 99, 199, 106, 111, 128, 589 100, 592 al-Sinesrī, Ilyās b. Alī b. Ilyās 100, 105, Wazīr, Muammad al-ājj b. Abdallāh 589 b. 89, 99, 105, 592 Sirrī, Abd al-Ramān b. āmid 438, Wazīr, Amad b. Abd al-Ramān b. 439, 598 377, 439, 592 Spanton, E.F. 275, 295 Williams, Patrick Edward 252, 253, 324, Sulaymān, Abdallāh Amūr 37, 38 340, 541, 599 Sulayman, Yūsuf b. Sa īd b. 578, 579 Wilson, Fergus Brunswick 254-260, 319, Sumay, Amad b. 62, 70, 82, 89, 94-111, 320, 322, 599 114, 117, 175, 247, 301-304, 379, 533, 542 Zahor, Amor 47, 390, 592 Sumay, Umar b. Amad b. 38, 70, 89, Zahrān, Amad (al-Riyāmī) 284, 324, 99, 100, 106-108, 114, 227, 282, 324, 592 331, 378, 386, 388-393, 399, 401, Zawadi, Bibi Zawadi Fatma bint amīd 405-407, 416, 465, 510, 542 Sa īd 377 al-Surtī, Abd al-Shakkur b. āmid b. al-Zayla ī, Abd al-Ramān b. Amad Alī b. Abd al-Razāq 106 75, 79, 80, 82 Zubayr, Rijal Wazir 345, 592 al-afayish, Abū Isāq Ibrāhīm b. Muam mad b. Yūsuf 201, 438, 590