THE PEOPLE WHO ‘STAND UP’ FOR PULAAR: ACTIVISM AND LANGUAGE LOYALTY POLITICS IN SENEGAL AND MAURITANIA By JOHN JOSEPH HAMES A DISSERTATION PRESENTED TO THE GRADUATE SCHOOL OF THE UNIVERSITY OF FLORIDA IN PARTIAL FULFILLMENT OF THE REQUIREMENTS FOR THE DEGREE OF DOCTOR OF PHILOSOPHY UNIVERSITY OF FLORIDA 2017 © 2017 John Joseph Hames To Buduk, and all the “Jaaga naaɓe” ACKNOWLEDGMENTS I made my first trip to Gainesville, Florida in March 2009 and arrived late in the evening courtesy of the shuttle from the Jacksonville airport. Abdoulaye Kane, who, months later, would become my committee chair, came to pick me up. Looking for him, I gave him a call and a few seconds into the conversation he realized he was walking up behind me. Over the past eight years, his mentorship and friendship, as well as that of his wife, Aisse, have been the constants upon which I have been most able to rely. Dr. Kane gave me the space to experiment with my writing, learn some of the hard lessons of doctoral research, as well as to sort out some personal challenges. The doors to his office and home were always open for long conversations about my work, family or politics. I will always savor the memories of long nights watching Pulaar films and spending time with him, Aisse and their fast-growing (soon to be adult) children Mamadou and Malick. Dr. Kane also knew when to push me and it is thanks to his insistent calls for me to overcome my fears about trying to publish that I have successfully done so. I am grateful to have shared the experience of Dr. Kane’s mentorship with Ben Burgen and Jamie Fuller, with whom I have exchanged many good-natured stories about the process. Dr. Kane’s guidance was complemented by that of my other committee members, whose advice proved invaluable. Dr. Brenda Chalfin’s feedback consistently brought the best out of my writing and her advice and encouragement in my effort to make the transition from graduate student to professional scholar restored my confidence and investment in the process when it was desperately needed. From the beginning, Fiona McLaughlin challenged me to think beyond some of the preconceived notions I brought to my research. It is thanks to her that I believe I came up with an ethnography that avoids many of the essentializing conceptions of language and linguistic correctness that I initially brought to graduate school. She and Dr. Leo Villalon graciously 4 welcomed me to their home on numerous occasions and our conversations about Senegal and West Africa remind me of how lucky I am to have personal connections to that region. Maria Stoilkova has been a valued teacher, mentor and friend and extremely generous with both her time and energy as I have worked through the many challenges of ethnographic writing. Her patience with me is greatly appreciated. More than once, she welcomed me into her home for lively, long nights of discussion with her and her husband Lucho. The network of researchers and scholars associated with the Sahel Research Group and the Center for African Studies, including Leo Villalon, Abe Goldman, Todd Leedy, Renata Serra, Hunt Davis, Dan Reboussin and Alioune Sow made UF a welcoming environment at which to study. Luise White’s courses on Colonialism in Africa were among the best seminars I took as a graduate student, and forced me to be brave enough to learn to write concisely, even if that lesson is not always apparent in this dissertation. Thanks to Mum and Dad for your friendship, discipline (when it has been needed), and for giving me the space and resources I needed to make this dissertation project possible. They absorbed extensive financial costs associated with my attendance at Suffolk University, the undergraduate college of my choice (as opposed to one in New Hampshire), and mercifully honored my monthly non-federal debt service obligations during my time in the Peace Corps. They regularly inspire me with their ability to survive and flourish both personally and as a team despite major life changes that have occurred over the past decade. It is jarring to consider that when they were at my current age I was preparing to graduate from high school. Thanks to brothers Eddie and Billy and their partners Ashley Weaverling and Ashley Hames- and niece Penelope- for their support and for their ability to comedically snuff out any pretension to 5 academic self-importance on my part. I have been proud to see how both of my brothers packed up and moved across the country, successfully building entirely new lives. Whenever I flew back north, the home of my grandparents was always my first stop. Meema, my grandmother, has gracefully hoed a tough row (all the way from Ashton-in- Makerfield), and having raised six children and helped guide a few of her grandchildren (namely, myself) in their transitons to adulthood, she has more than earned these years of retirement, including the occasional trips “south.” Had she not opened her home to me during my years of undergraduate study, allowing me to finish my BA without worrying about coming up with rent money, I would not be writing this. Peepa, her “lesser half” (he is allocated 49% of the vote in their household decisions), was known as “The Greek” among old friends in the Massachusetts Department of Welfare (later to be named the Department of Transitional Assistance). In fact, his father fought for Greece in the early 1920s against an army of Ataturk’s forces, sheltering himself pragmatically within his unit’s trench as he held his rifle high above his head, yanking the trigger as he aimed the gun towards where he imagined the enemy to be positioned. Our weekly or, sometimes, twice weekly phone calls to talk about sports or to do “shtick” on fellow family members have been a big part of my getting through the past eight years. My late Auntie Annie allowed me to stay with her for two different periods during my college years, once while I was interning at the Massachusetts State House and again as I was applying to the Peace Corps and desperately trying to finish my degree and Senior Thesis. I wish she was still around but am confident she is in spirit. Many “happy returns” to Uncle Fuzzy (also known to his adoring public as Fuzoobie, Uncle Fester, “B.E.F.,” “The Beffah” or John), Auntie Kayte, Uncle John (“Hamster,” “Stick” or “Dipes”) and Shirley, Auntie Chrissy, cousins Annie 6 Kate and Charlie, as well as many other members of the Hames, Makridakis, Pizzuto and Cardarelli families. There are others whose roles in my life previous to graduate school were essential to making the journey possible. Suffolk University provided the kind of both urban and close-knit academic environment in which I confirmed, for the first time, my longstanding suspicion that I could succeed academically if only I made the effort. David Gallant’s recruitment of me into the InterFuture program that sent me to Spain and South Africa to conduct independent research foreshadowed my later career in Anthropology. Sebastian Royo helped sparked my interest in International Affairs and inspired me to imagine pursuing a scholarly career. Without either of them, I would never have made it to UF. My Peace Corps service began just three months after I graduated from Suffolk. I write about this in some detail in the Foreword, but it is necessary to acknowledge those in the village of Buduk and around the Nianija District, as well as in the agency itself, who made possible the experiences and language skills that paved the way for my dissertation research. The people of Buduk are in my thoughts and they include the following: Ebrima “Ndura” York, Fatouƴel York, Salla Ndorel, Souleymane (or “Maasaani”), Hurai Njie, Ina Fatou (or “Taggere”), Haruna Gosi, Ablie Fatou Gune, Gibbi Haja, Oumou Penda, Khadija Penda, Hawa Khadija, Ustas Dawda York, Hassassa, Musa Bah, Dawda Laaw, Hassana Njama, Ousman Njama, Buba Amie, the brothers Alasan Naffi and Buba Naffi, Kumba Koreja, Alhaji Musa, Samba Fatou Gune, Bakary Njie, Demba Oumou, Hulay Penda Jallow, Syballo, Alasan the “Doctor,” Helen Bah, the Alkali Gibbi York and his wife Kumba, Dawda Amie Cham, Mamadou Lobbe and his wife Binta, Ousman Bah from “galle saakuuji,” Alasan “Ŋuuñaali” and Omar Ceesay. 7 Those are just a few I of those I could have named from Buduk itself. Other “Jaaga naaɓe” who are not forgotten include Saidou Amie Jallow, former MP Dawda Bah, Gibbi Wally Sow, my Pulaar gurus Yero Taay and Abba Sabally, Habdou Hawa Camara, Dawda Camara, Haja Kani Toure and her husband Mod Sow, Ustas Ablie Ceesay, Modou Mame Ceesay, Farba Jallow, Alasan Davis Cham, Adama Gullo, Alasan Jobe, Bekay Jobe, Penda Jobe, Sellou Jaw, Mbombe Mbaye, Demba Mbaye, Sadr Mbaye, Leila Bah, Musa Penda and Modou Penda, Yahya Jallow and his wife Sira Cham, Papa Jobe, Alhajji Modou Sallah, Yero Jallow from Sinchu Baadu, Fatou Bah, Mari Njie, Gibbi Sonko, Samba Njie from Daru, Pa Ceesay from Sinchu Maka and many others. May Allah bestow mercy and forgiveness upon those from Buduk and around Nianija who passed away during and after my service, including (but not limited to) Dawda Gullo York, Jaba Taggere York, Mamadou Lolly from Nioro, Ina Salamata Njie, Babou Gassama, Maimouna Njie, Ma Sow, Maama Alasan Sonko, Ina Lobbe Cham, Ina Sankare, Demba “Ɗaɓel” Camara, Pa Haruna, Alhouseyni and Aliou Bah, Dawda Deɓɓo-Deɓɓo and Aliou Kumalaa. Thanks are due, as well, to my original Peace Corps Pulaar teachers Muhammadu Bah and Sarjo Dumbuya, my former supervisor and Associate Peace Corps Director Gibril Sumbunu, as well as Fatou Sowe.