The Arab uprisings have brought the Islamists to power in places such as Tunisia, Egypt, and Morocco. In Tunisia and Egypt, religious institutions are taking on more public significance. Al-Azhar, already present in the public sphere under Mubarak, has engaged with political questions about democracy, the constitution and fundamental rights after the resignation of Mubarak. In Tunisia, al-Zaytuna has not taken on an obvious political role yet. This is because it was reduced under Bourguiba and Ben Ali to a small institution of higher learning, separated from the Zaytuna mosque, and tightly put under the grip of the regime. In post-colonial times, Al-Zaytuna was prevented from playing a political role, even in the service of the authoritarian state, and its educational role was also limited by the regimes of Bourguiba and Ben Ali. Therefore, it could not acquire the political leverage that I showed al-Azhar had gained after the 1970s in my book Gardiens de l’Islam (1996).

However, more than a year after the revolution of January 14, 2011, the Zaytuna mosque is slowly re emerging by taking on the challenge of teaching.

Responding to a complaint filed by a group of lawyers, the court of first instance in Tunis ordered on March 19, 2012 to unseal the administrative offices of the “hay’a ‘ilmiyya” (the scientific committee) in the Zaytuna mosque. The offices had been sealed since Bourguiba’s time. These lawyers are linked to the association “Friends and alumni of the Zaytuna Mosque.” As shown in this case, as well as in the case of the trial against the director of NessmaTV for the broadcast of the Persepolis movie, courts and litigations are playing an important part in the politics of post-revolution Tunisia.

As a result, on March 31, 2012  the doors of the administrative offices of the scientific committee in the Zaytuna mosque in the old city of Tunis were unsealed. This was done on the basis of the court order and of a document signed by the current government of Hammadi Jebali and the shaykh of the Zaytuna mosque, Houcine Laabidi.

On May 12, 2012, the reopening was celebrated in a ceremony in which Rashid Ghannushi, the leader of the Islamist Nahdha party, the minister of religious affairs Noureddine Khadmi, and the ministers of higher education and education were present. The government is therefore showing support for the project, but does not seem to want to make the mosque a state administered teaching institution or to be involved in the devising of the curricula. The Zaytuna mosque will offer a four year education track for graduates of primary schools and a baccalaureate that will lead to higher studies at the Zaytuna. Boys and girls will be separated. The boys will study at the Zaytuna mosque and the girls at the close-by mosque Sidi Youssef. But the government, led by a coalition between the Islamist party al-Nahdha and two center left parties, did not initiate the project. Rashed al-Ghannushi evoked his years of learning at the Zaytuna in the 1950s and reminded the audience that modern sciences and Islam were taught together without contradicting each other. For him, it was in the post colonial period that a policy of marginalization and silencing (insilākh) made modernism and Islam contradictory. After the revolution, he added, Tunisians are reconciling with their past history.

Indeed, Bourguiba put an end to Zaytuna’s primary and secondary teaching in 1958, two years after the independence of Tunisia. The Zaytuna higher teaching (in the mosque and beyond it, for instance in the provincial annexes of the mosque) was replaced by a small faculty of theology in the Faculty of letters in Tunis. A whole world, with its culture and traditions were ended by the Bourguibian project of unification and reform of education. The post-colonial reforms were prolonging a long period of colonial transformations of education in Tunisia, which saw the emergence of new schools that were intended to produce new elites at the service of the modern administration.

Bourguiba’s policy was very badly taken by traditional elites, the Zaytunis, students and ulama who had played a role in the nationalist struggle against the French occupier. For Bourguiba, Zaytuni education was backward, and it was necessary to control it and “rationalize” it in order to make it “modern.”

After 1987, Ben Ali continued the same policy, accusing Zaytuna’s graduates of disseminating Islamist ideology in the public schools, where many of them taught religious education. The Zaytuna University, which was co-educational, was censored like all the other Tunisian institutions of education. Its library was emptied of any books that could become politically subversive. A rationalist and liberal interpretation of Islam was imposed to faculty and students. Therefore, the post-revolution teaching project is presented by its proponents as a reversal of the politics of tajfīf al-manābi’ (the policy of drying up the sources of religion). Doubtful commentators recently asked if the new Zaytuna project will help Tunisia improve its ranking at 6700 in the Shanghai academic ranking of world universities. However, the reopening of teaching in the Zaytuna mosque is first and foremost presented as a religious, moral, and cultural enterprise that should reinforce the Islamic and Arab identity of Tunisians. Hopefully, the freedoms that have developed since January 14, 2011 will allow for rigorous intellectual debates on the content of religious education and for a plurality of styles of teaching and interpretations, unless the rift between the secularists and the Islamists continues to overwhelm post-revolution politics.

It is striking that the revival of teaching in the Zaytuna mosque is not the result of government policy making but originates from the mobilization of civil society groups who use the courts of law to change the culture of their society. In addition, it seems that those at the origin of this new project do not call for the help or the control of the state. They have appealed to private donations, and the daily newspaper La Presse of May 8, 2012 reports that around 800 boys and 300 girls have already registered. There seems to be an ambitious project that echoes Nasser’s vision of Islamic education in the Azharite primary and secondary institutes in Egypt: an Islamic teaching founded on a combination of religious and secular subjects, to prepare for any professional field.

It is too early to say if and how the project will take shape, but it is worth noting that religious education has flourished after the revolution, especially for primary and secondary schooling. One question that begs to be answered is if and how the state will regulate these new initiatives. The Zaytuna university, still administered by the state, and situated on the outskirts of the Southwestern part of the old city where the Zaytuna mosque is located, is also experiencing internal transformations in post-revolutionary Tunisia. I will write  about it in a future post.

By Khadija Mohsen-Finan (Université de Paris VIII) and Malika Zeghal (Harvard University)

On October 23, Tunisians went to the ballot to elect a 217 member constituent assembly. After the uprisings of December 2010-January 2011, which took place in the streets and squares of Tunisia, this is a second revolution that translates the first revolution in electoral terms. In a remarkably well organized electoral process, based on a well designed electoral law that ensures transparence and neutrality, Tunisians have freely expressed their choices through the ballot box. Compared to the elections that took place under Bourguiba and Ben Ali, where electors could only be apathetic in a context where they were constrained in various ways to vote for the regime and the results were rigged, this is indeed a turning point. The stakes are important and multilayered, and their implications will take time to emerge, notably through future political alliances. However, for the moment, we can offer a few points for analysis.

The Constituent Assembly will draft the constitution of the second republic and will define the operations of the institutions.  The members will elect a president. According to the new electoral law, the prime minister will come from the winning political party and will form his government. The assembly will also function as a legislative assembly and will have one year to draft the constitution. This is a foundational moment that is not without dangers, especially instability and the inability to finish the constitutional task. The proportional representation has ensured representativeness and will also force political parties to enter into coalitions. Therefore, no political formation can claim an overwhelming number of seats: in this sense there will be no major winner.

The massive rate of participation, more than 90% of the registered voters, was unexpected. The massive character of the electoral moment made it impossible for the ISIE to announce the results today, Monday October 24. The results will be probably announced Tuesday October 25, only two days after the election. Only then will we know the exact number of seats won by each list (whether representing a party or independent), as well the regional differences.

But for now, it seems that three political parties are emerging in the new political landscape.  The current leader in the polls is al-Nahdha, headed by Rashed al-Ghannouchi, which seems to have won, unsurprisingly, at least 40% of the seats, while a month ago the polls gave it a score of 20 to 30%.  Al-Nahdha seems to be followed by two other parties, Ettakatol (the Rally), headed by Mustapha Ben Jaafar, and probably the Congress for the Republic headed by Moncef Marzouki.

These three parties have built their structures and ideas on a position of dissent against the previous regime. Two of these parties heads, Ghannouchi and Marzouki have been living in exile in Europe, while Ben Jaafar’s party was legalized in 1994, but never accepted any compromise. The emergence of these three parties as the strongest illustrates the Tunisians desire to break as much as possible with the past. The personalities of these three characters have also to be taken into account: they have showed pragmatism, proximity to the voters, and openness to future alliances. On the contrary, other parties like the Progressive Democratic Party (Ahmed Najib Chabbi, who recognized today his party’s defeat) and the Qutb (Ahmed Brahim) have showed less disposition to form alliances with other formations.

Al-Nahdha, the main Islamist movement, has transformed into a legalized party since March. Its program is moderate and committed to the principles of democracy. It claims that they will not put into question the gains of Bourguiba’s regime regarding women’s right and education. They have transformed their old message about the Islamic state into a compromise on  general values relating to the Arab and Islamic identity of Tunisian society. This Arab and Islamic identity is also a central part of Ettakatol’s program and of the Congress for the Republic, who have not based their electoral campaign on the demonization of Al-Nahdha, contrary to others such as the Progressive Democratic Party. They seem to have put away the specter of the cleavage between Islamists and secularists. Therefore, the success of these three parties is the success of “the center” in the Tunisian political spectrum. This center cannot be defined as a go between “left” and “right.”  Rather, it reunites the conservative values of tradition and religion with a program for social justice and development. This is, perhaps, the new political identity in which Tunisians recognize themselves.

In 1966, Daniel Crecelius published a seminal article titled “Al-Azhar in the Revolution” in The Middle East Journal (vol. 20, no. 1). The article explored the role of al-Azhar in the 1952 revolution. He framed the role of al-Azhar in the context of a broad process of modernization that had weakened the religious institution, whose members were not able to respond intellectually to deep social and political transformations. Indeed, Nasser’s regime brought the ulama to heel and submitted al-Azhar politically. In my view, if the ulama did not “react” politically and ideologically, only acting by obstructing the Nasserist reforms, it was not necessarily because they were inherently “anti-modern” and conservative, but because they had no choice, as members of the institution of al-Azhar, other than to submit to the diktat of the regime. For many of them, the submission of al-Azhar to the state and its nationalization in 1961, which was officially described as a “reform” (iṣlā) or a modernization/evolution (taḥdīth/taṭwīr), was a trauma. They viewed it as the destruction (tadmīr) of al-Azhar. The ulama I interviewed in the 1990s in Cairo and in other cities and towns of Egypt did not uniformly criticize Nasser’s reforms modernizing the curriculum. In fact, some praised this transformation, and others condemned it. But they all complained about the loss of independence of their institution that made their interpretation of the tradition of Islam submit to the demands of the authoritarian regime.  Since 1961, the ulama have often expressed more or less explicitly desires to become independent from the state: not that they refuse to have a relationship with the state—they are attached to the centrality of their institution and to the power and resources being a state institution confers to them. However, they would like to become free of any pressures from the executive branch of the state in order to conduct their roles of educators, preachers, legal scholars, and religious intellectuals. The complexity of the current political position of al-Azhar is precisely related to the tension between its desire to become independent on the one hand and its interest to keep its weight and centrality as a state institution. The revolution of January 25, 2011 has given al-Azhar an opportunity to reiterate its demands to become independent and to start thinking about the details of its future relationship with the state as well as about its political engagement defined more broadly.