Religion as Resistance: Negotiating Authority in Italian Libya

Abstract

Eileen Ryan's book examines the relationship between Italian colonial authorities and the Sanusiyya, a Sufi religious order in Cyrenaica, the eastern province of modern Libya, from 1911 until the early 1930s. Ryan recounts the Italian government's search for a workable colonial policy, as it moved from strategies of indirect rule (accommodation and compromise with local elites) under a liberal government to brutal repression under Fascist rule. The Sanusiyya of Cyrenaica were more than just a religious order, providing “many of the functions associated with the modern state, including education and armed defense” (1). During the liberal period, though anticolonial armed conflict was common, Italian authorities mainly viewed Sanusi elites as potentially useful intermediaries, ideal for extending indirect control over the Libyan interior. In practice, however, Italian compromises with the Sanusiyya—which included paying stipends and generally acknowledging the authority of tribal leaders—meant that Italy only occupied coastal areas up through the 1920s. In Cyrenaica's hinterland, the Sanussi controlled the most fertile farmland, the highlands of the Jabal al-Akhdar, where the semi-nomadic Berber populations enjoyed a relatively high standard of living based on grain cultivation, transhumant animal husbandry, and caravan trade.The focus of the book, indeed its main contribution, is Ryan's examination of the role of religion—both for Italians and the Sanusiyya—as a force that shaped colonialism. Much of the book skillfully explores the interplay between religion, politics, colonial warfare, and international diplomacy. Considering the outsize role of the Catholic Church in Italian society and politics, historians of Italy often give short shrift to the role of Catholicism and the Church in domestic and foreign affairs. Placing religion at the center of her analysis, Ryan challenges narratives about imperialism in North Africa as a clash between secular European societies and deeply religious Muslim populations. Religion as Resistance identifies a diffuse impulse to imbue “Italian imperialism with a strong Catholic identity.” However, Catholic imperialists held diverse and often competing views of how religion should shape Italian colonial policy. Some influential Italians promoted “accommodation” with Muslim elites based on Catholic and Islamic “religious traditionalism,” partly as a means of setting Italian colonialism apart from the secular aspects of the French and British empires (4). Other Catholic imperialists rejected collaboration in favor of direct control, pushing for an imperial policy of prestige that celebrated “Italian cultural superiority” (5).A prevailing theme in Ryan's narrative is the ambiguity and uncertainty of Italian understandings of the Sanusiyya and how to engage them. From the beginning, the Italians knew very little about the geography, culture, and language of the region they planned to conquer and colonize. As Ryan notes, Italian sources tell us much more about the nature of Italian colonialism—its second-hand, Orientalist knowledge of the colonized, for example—then about the Sanusiyya itself. Sanusi leaders were well aware of the various and competing European understandings of their order and were able to skillfully negotiate the terms of indirect rule, maintaining more or less sovereign control over the Jabal al-Akhdar for more than a decade after the Italian arrival. “In both the liberal and fascist eras,” Ryan concludes, “disagreements over the best approach to negotiate with Sanusi elites can tell us more about uncertainty over religious identity in Italian nationalism than about the social or political history of the Sanusiyya” (8). One figure with deep but shadowy connections to the Italian state, Enrico Insabato, pushed for a “pro-Islamic” approach. Through publications and his government associates, Insabato “promoted the idea that what he considered to be orthodox Islam served an essential civilizing role in the region” (48). Within the Catholic world, however, the strongest ideological strain rejected this “pro-Islam” view and instead embraced a kind of Italian Catholic nationalism. Conquest would demonstrate the superiority of Italian and Catholic civilization. The injection of Catholic nationalism into the imperial project also served domestic purposes by “integrating Catholic interests into national politics to the benefit of the liberal ruling party in a new era of mass politics” (69). Finally, the Church had developed a growing financial interest in Libya, since the Vatican, through its considerable investment in the Banco di Roma, increasingly invested in shipping, agriculture, and commercial projects on the Libyan coast. “By the time of the invasion,” writes Ryan, “the investments of the Holy See were so deeply intertwined with the imperial project that they influenced diplomatic language. Invasion was justified in part by the interest of the Banco di Roma” (70). However, though Catholicism may have played an important role in pushing for the invasion of Libya, colonial authorities often sidelined religion during the process of colonization. Neither the Italian Ministry of the Colonies nor the military was interested in heavily involving Catholic interests in ruling over a predominantly Muslim population—the complications of imposing Italian military and administrative rule over Libya were difficult enough.After the 1911 invasion, the Italians struggled to subdue local, Ottoman-backed resistance. During 1913–14 Italy launched the politica dei capi (roughly translated as “the policy of bosses”), in which colonial authorities identified tribal or village notables who would rule the local population in exchange for a stipend. These local notables declared “their formal submission to colonial authority” and “gained a title, funding, and a claim to political authority” (92). Ryan identifies the perils of this accommodation: in 1915 many of these ostensible “allies” went over to the anticolonial resistance, inflicting a crushing defeat on Italian forces at the Battle of Bu Hadi, where Italians lost 500 men and thousands of weapons. After the failure of the politica dei capi and Italy's entry into the First World War, the occupation suffered setbacks, reducing the Italian presence to urban coastal areas, more or less identical to the situation after the first weeks of the invasion in 1911 (103).Ryan describes how during the First World War, especially after the Battle of Bu Hadi, the Italians began to turn away from Ahmad al-Sharif, the supreme leader of the Senussi order, seeking out a “more amenable” leader in Idris al-Sanusi (104). This shift, along with other factors, had repercussions inside the Sanusiyya. While the loyalties of the forty-four Sanusi zawāyā (shrines) were divided evenly between the two men, Idris al-Sanusi's position grew stronger with Italian backing. When Ahmad al-Sharif went into exile in 1918, never to return to Cyrenaica again, Idris's leadership of the Sanusi ṭarīqa (order) was cemented. The Italians granted Idris the title of emir, which included a generous monthly stipend, and began working with him to bring Sanusi notables into the Italian camp while simultaneously implementing infrastructure projects. In Idris al-Sanusi, the Ministry of Colonies hoped it had found a collaborator who could establish and legitimize Italian rule in Cyrenaica.Ryan explores Idris al-Sanusi's new position and power through an extended case study of railway development in Cyrenaica. Both the Italians and Idris al-Sanusi were interested in infrastructure development, but for the latter railroads were a double-edged sword. On the one hand, Ryan argues, Idris “seized on the prospect of an influx of Italian state and private capital to launch a program of infrastructure development that promised to achieve greater economic integration of the region under the control of the Sanusi ṭarīqa,” giving Idris “access to modern technologies of movement” (137–38). On the other hand, his support for Italian railway construction led to disaffection among tribes who viewed railways as a threat to their “control over access to wells and camel supplies” in Saharan caravan networks (138). Ryan argues that the refusal of several important shaykhs to accept Idris's agreement with the Italians “precipitated a crisis of leadership in the Sanusiyya and a shift towards the ṭarīqa defining itself as an anti-colonial movement” (141). This defection was not surprising. Italian officials had always debated and questioned the nature of Idris's authority within Cyrenaica, wondering if he possessed the power to bring Sanusi notables into line and deliver on his side of the bargain. Meanwhile, when Mussolini came to power in 1922, Italian policy shifted drastically, and authorities viewed Idris with increasing suspicion. The emir eventually fled to Egypt in 1923, a development that has traditionally been viewed as a consequence of his deteriorating position vis-à-vis the Italians. Ryan argues effectively, by contrast, that his self-imposed exile to a large extent reflected the waning of his authority within the Sanusi ṭarīqa. By the mid-1920s, with Idris out of the picture, the policy of compromises, accords, and shared sovereignty ended. Italian authorities now viewed the Sanusiyya as an anticolonial organization to be destroyed entirely, an objective that the Italian military pursued with ever escalating brutality.The book's fifth chapter examines the fascistization of the colony under Luigi Federzoni, a conservative monarchist and head of the pro-imperialist Italian Nationalist Association (ANI), who served two terms as Minister of the Colonies, first in 1922–24 and then again in 1926–28. Federzoni used the colonies as a “dumping ground” for unruly Fascists, while increasingly moving toward a policy of destroying the Sanusi leadership and organization outright. Fascist violence in Cyrenaica began with indiscriminate bombings and aerial machinegun strafing of caravans and encampments, often dropping poison gas on civilians. By the early 1930s colonial authorities interned the entire civilian population, carried out summary executions, and seized Sanusi land and property. Tensions also developed in the Italian camp between newly arrived Fascists who viewed military administrators as too “pro-native” or “pro-Islam.” In reality, these military authorities were simply trying not to antagonize the ostensibly pro-Italian, urban populations by reigning in Fascists for whom colonialism meant beating natives, stealing from local businesses, and destroying property. Eventually Federzoni banned civilians, including party members, from criticizing colonial authorities, acknowledging the disruptive and counterproductive presence of ordinary Fascist zealots in Cyrenaica.During this same period within the colony, the authority of Sanusi family members, some of whom still received payments from Italy, became overshadowed by Sanusi shaykhs (i.e., leaders who were not part of the Sanusi family), most famously ʿUmar al-Mukhtar, who became the leader and symbol of armed resistance to Italian rule. Al-Mukhtar frustrated the Italians endlessly, adapting to their every new military strategy, and responding to every defeat by dispersing, regrouping, and counterattacking. By 1930, after years of failed attempts to crush the rebellion, a triumvirate of Fascist Italy's most important and loyal generals—Minister of Colonies Emilio De Bono, Governor of Libya Pietro Badoglio, and Vice-Governor of Cyrenaica Rodolfo Graziani—decided to intern the entire population of the Jabal al-Akhdar (approximately 100,000 people) in desert concentration camps. Between the deportations and the camps, tens of thousands perished. With the Cyrenaican highlands drained of its population, the rebels were defeated and their leader captured. In a verdict that Graziani had already decided, a military court sentenced ʿUmar al-Mukhtar to death, and the Italians hung him in front of 20,000 concentration camp inmates. The war had ended, and the Sanusi ṭarīqa of Cyrenaica had been destroyed.In the second half of the book, the thread of religion is sometimes lost (despite chapter 5's title, “Religion and Power in the Fascist Colonies”)—it appears in discreet sections, but its centrality to the narrative becomes less clear, especially as the Italian state turned toward direct rule, military conquest, and destruction of the Sanusiyya. While there is nothing inaccurate here, and the historical analysis is insightful, Ryan could have reflected more on the importance of religion (or even its unimportance) in shaping the colonial policies of the 1920s and 1930s, as Fascism took hold in foreign and domestic policy. Missing also is a more serious treatment of how the regime presented itself to colonial subjects of the Islamic faith. Colonial administrators, and even Mussolini, regularly emphasized that Fascist rule would protect religious freedom for Muslims. How, and to what extent, colonial policy differentiated between anticolonial Islamic activity and “good,” acceptable religious practice, seems critical. While in practice the goal was to subdue and subjugate the colony's population, destroying religious and cultural infrastructure, the Italians nevertheless went to great lengths to present themselves as “defenders” of Islam.The final two chapters provide interesting discussions of essentially new material. The conclusion carries the story forward, examining the return of Idris al-Sanusi to Libya, this time as a monarch who would lead an independent state after the Second World War. Ryan probes the role of European powers, especially Britain, in promoting the Sanusiyya as a force of stability within the region, and Idris al-Sanusi as a figure who had the “moral credentials of Islamic authority to promote a sense of anti-imperial solidarity but without being too Muslim for a European palate” (169). The Italians, meanwhile, depicted Idris al-Sanusi as morally weak, cosmopolitan, and unfit for rule in an unsuccessful effort to derail his assumption of the Libyan throne. As monarch, Idris al-Sanusi attempted to distance himself from the Sanusi zawāyā, trying to separate his political and religious roles. Nevertheless, the Sanusiyya was sufficiently associated with the monarchy that after the 1969 coup, Muammar Qadhafi cracked down on the Sanusi religious infrastructure and repressed the memory of the Sanusiyya's role in the anticolonial struggle, except with regard to figures like ‘Umar al Mukhtar, whose status and broad-based appeal were too central to Libya's history as an independent state. In the conclusion, the value of Ryan's study of Italian colonialism becomes clear, as the book provides critical context for understanding the postcolonial state. At the same time, the book lacks a real conclusion to bring all elements of this story together and to reflect more broadly on Italian colonialism, religion, resistance, and Libya during the early twentieth century. Indeed, the conclusion reads a bit more like an epilogue. The final section, entitled “Essay on Sources: Memories of Resistance in Libyan Oral History,” does not reflect on the archival sources mined for Ryan's monograph, but instead introduces the reader to the Oral History Project at the Libyan Studies Center, located in Tripoli, which since the late 1970s has been recording testimonies of the mujahidin who fought against Italy. While the interviews were well conceived, Ryan notes that their execution was partly compromised by various factors. Nevertheless, the stories of these anticolonial fighters further decentered the narrative of anticolonial resistance away from Sanusi notables and toward more local heroes, while still preserving the status of figures like ʿUmar al-Mukhtar. This short (nine pages) section concludes by affirming the utility of viewing Libyan history through these oral sources, giving voice to ordinary people who participated in an extraordinary armed struggle.Religion as Resistance is path-breaking, and will become essential reading for historians studying modern Italy, especially Italian colonialism, as well as modern Libya. The book establishes religion, and the Church, as critical components of Italian imperialism, and also simultaneously problematizes Italian perceptions of the roles that Sanusi political and religious authority played in the anticolonial struggle. The book also works well as a history of the Sanusiyya during this period, even if refracted mostly through Italian sources. All of these contributions raise new questions and suggest new directions for the colonial and postcolonial histories of Libya and Italy.