#6
The Economist (UK)
October 27, 2001
Russia's Muslims One faith, but not one vision
The bombing of Afghanistan shows up divides among Russia's Muslims
CONDEMNING the attacks of September 11th was the easy bit for Russia's Muslim leaders. They have found it harder to strike a balance between endorsing the Kremlin's support for the American bombing of Afghanistan and soothing their own flocks' anxieties. Russia's two grandest muftis were silent at first, then condemned the bombing. The political leaders of Tatarstan and Bashkortostan, the autonomous republics with the biggest Muslim populations, remained in embarrassed silence.
Russia has plenty of citizens who are (at least culturally) Muslim: 20m, an eighth of the population, say Muslims; 14m, on official estimates. They are mostly the result of tsarist expansion within the past few centuries. Indeed, the Russians conquered cities such as Bokhara and Khiva only in 1869 and 1873; both are now in Uzbekistan but were under Russia's sway until 1991. Chechnya was conquered only in the second half of the 19th century, and resistance never totally died out. In the days of communism, the state tolerated Islam, as it did the Orthodox church, provided both stayed on the leash. And official atheism found no great echo among Muslims.
Most Russian Muslims live in the North Caucasus, or along the Volga river in Tatarstan and Bashkortostan. But there are many in the big cities such as Moscow, St Petersburg and Rostov-on-Don. Most are Sunni. Those in Tatarstan and Bashkorto-stan tend to be relatively modern-minded. But a strong mystical Sufi tradition endures in the North Caucasus. And since the fall of communism and the opening of Russia's borders, the more rigid Wahhabi variant of Islam, as in Saudi Arabia, has come in, notably in the North Caucasus.
In that impoverished region, the mainstream Muslim leaders, survivors usually from the Soviet era, have had little to offer people angered by their living conditions and seeking solace in their faith.
As in the days of communism, and because of them, most of these leaders are timid and ill educated. Few know much of their faith beyond the Koran; still fewer have an aptitude for theological discussion. Most stick firmly, as they did in Soviet times, to the notion of Islam as a spiritual affair, with few social or political obligations. Yet few of these men seem very spiritual. They quarrel a great deal among themselves, and many seem more interested in getting their share of the budget than in looking after their flock.
So Arab missionaries and younger and more eloquent Arab-educated mullahs have made rapid inroads in the past decade. They refuse to kow-tow to the politicians, they have lots of money, and they promise that the establishment of an Islamic state under sharia law would mean peace and prosperity. Not surprisingly, they did best in Chechnya, where radical Islam has so blended with the secessionist movement that the two are barely distinguishable. But an attempt to impose sharia law there failed completely, as the place sank into lawless chaos and under the weight of Russian troops. The missionaries also did well in next-door Dagestan.
To the Kremlin, Islamic fundamentalism and terrorism go hand in hand. The Russian forces' assault on Chechnya was triggered by an incursion of Islamist Chechens into Dagestan, and by a series of bomb attacks that blew up several blocks of flats in Russia, not least in Moscow, killing some 300 people. The Kremlin says the bombers were trained in camps in Chechnya. Some attended a madrassa (religious school) known for its zealotry in the city of Naberezhnye Chelny in Tatarstan. The school has been closed, and Wahhabism banned in Tatarstan and Dagestan. In vain: the zealots have shaved off their beards, but they remain active in the shadows.
The old guard is conscious of losing its grip. Ravil Gainutdin, head of Russia's Council of Muftis, has asked the Kremlin to provide funds for home-grown Islamic education, to stem the influence of young, foreign-educated teachers. Some say this is just a ploy by Mr Gainutdin to puff up his own importance. But the muftis' embarrassment over Afghanistan reveals how torn they are between their old habit of keeping in with the Russian state and their newer desire, after decades of isolation, to identify with Muslims outside.
Next Article