The relevance of institutionalizing worship?
In Senegal, religious practice extends far beyond the private sphere, actively contributing to social cohesion, mediating conflicts, shaping education, and even influencing political regulation. Despite this pervasive influence, the interactions between the state and religious communities largely remain rooted in informal customs. This raises a crucial question: can the institutionalization of religious affairs help transcend clientelism without undermining the nation’s secular principles? The core of the debate may no longer be whether to formalize state-religious relations, but rather how to achieve this without institutionalizing religion itself.
First, it’s essential to dispel a common misconception: formalizing the relationship between the state and religious communities does not automatically mean establishing a state religion. Several African nations have already opted to create public bodies dedicated to religious affairs.
Mali, for instance, maintains a Ministry of Religious Affairs, Worship, and Customs. Guinea operates a General Secretariat for Religious Affairs, while Côte d’Ivoire has a specific administration overseeing religious worship. Morocco has taken this institutionalization much further through its Supreme Council of Oulemas and the role of Amir Al-Mouminine (Commander of the Faithful).
Senegal also possesses an nascent form of institutionalization. The establishment of the Directorate of Religious Affairs and Integration of Arabic Language Graduates in April 2024 marked a significant initial step. Djim Dramé, the director, openly states that the objective is precisely to “formalize relations between the state and religions” and to foster peace, harmony, and coexistence. Consequently, the contemporary debate centers less on the appropriateness of having an administration for religious matters and more on the extent of institutionalization Senegal intends to implement.
Islamologist Abdoul Aziz Kébé views the proposed transformation of the Directorate of Religious Affairs into a General Delegation as a “positive evolution” and an “institutional elevation.” His argument is particularly insightful: “religion is a resource in our country,” especially for social cohesion and the adoption of public policies.
If religion already serves as a vital social, cultural, and even political resource for Senegal, why persist in managing its relationship with the state primarily through personal connections, courtesy visits, ad hoc delegations, and circumstantial arrangements? It is within this context that Ousmane Sonko’s proposal should be understood.
Sonko advocates for a genuine institutionalization of state-religious relations, structured around several key proposals: the creation of a dedicated budget for religious affairs, the elevation of the Delegation for Religious Affairs to a Secretariat of State or a full-fledged ministry, official recognition of certain facilities granted to religious leaders, and the oversight of special funds by an sworn commission.
A “collaborative secularism between the political and religious”
The underlying principle is clear: to transition from a system of discretionary favors to one governed by established rights and transparent rules. When a religious leader receives an administrative privilege due to proximity to the President, it is a favor. However, if the same privilege is codified by law, with clearly defined conditions applicable to all leaders meeting identical criteria, this represents an institutional approach. Thus, the state’s function should not be to control religious practice, but to establish a framework that organizes its interactions with it.
Senegal is a secular state. This constitutional reality cannot be circumvented or diminished. The Constitution explicitly declares the Republic to be secular, democratic, and social, guaranteeing equality for all citizens irrespective of religion and respecting all beliefs. Therefore, the institutionalization of religious affairs cannot lead to any form of state religion.
However, the critical question is whether secularism prohibits the state from organizing its relations with religious bodies. Political science professor Maurice Soudieck Dione highlights that Senegalese secularism has a unique historical trajectory. It does not strictly adhere to the French model of rigid separation. He describes it as a “collaborative secularism between the political and religious spheres.” This distinctiveness of the Senegalese model lies in its operation through a “pragmatic accommodation” with confraternities and the Church.
Nonetheless, the debate cannot be oversimplified to: “since religion holds a significant place in society, a Ministry of Worship must be created.” Seydou Ka, a journalist and columnist for Le Soleil, cautions against the risk of transforming secularism into a form of administrative control over religious matters. He expresses concern about the potential for a “bureaucratization of the sacred” and a drift towards “laicism” that could erode the autonomy of religious leaders.
This observation is fundamental, as a distinction exists between institutionalizing relations with religions and institutionalizing religions themselves. In the former case, the state establishes an administrative interlocutor. In the latter, it gradually begins to define legitimacy, who can speak for a community, which activities are permissible, how places of worship should operate, and which religious leaders qualify for public recognition.
The concern of a “bureaucratization of the sacred”
The state’s desire to organize religions themselves presents a clear risk, potentially altering their fundamental nature. Researcher Bakary Sambe has perfectly summarized the danger inherent in the political-religious dynamic in Senegal. He notes that “our leaders seek in religion a legitimacy they lack in politics.” The peril of institutionalization would be to transform an already clientelistic relationship into a bureaucratized form of clientelism. Instead of politicians sporadically seeking religious blessings, permanent mechanisms for distributing public resources could emerge.
It is precisely because these risks exist that institutionalization appears necessary. Currently, a significant portion of the interactions between the state and religious authorities is personalized. A president cultivates a particular relationship with a specific khalife. A minister maintains close ties with a certain religious family. A local community might more easily secure investments due to its religious prominence.
A particular event receives special support because it constitutes a major religious gathering. The question then arises: is it better to leave these practices informal or subject them to public regulations? In my view, institutionalizing them is preferable. However, with an important clarification: we must not institutionalize faith itself; we must institutionalize the state’s relationship with religious phenomena.
This perspective aligns with Djim Dramé’s assertion that the Directorate of Religious Affairs aims to listen to “all religious sensitivities” and formalize state-religious relations. The National Council of Laity has also expressed support for this initiative, believing that the Directorate could become an effective interface between the Church and the State. Its president, Philippe Abraham Tine, emphasized the need for clear communication regarding the structure’s role to prevent misunderstandings. This interconfessional dimension is crucial.
Senegal is a profoundly religious society. Muslims constitute a vast majority, while Christian communities boast a significant historical and social presence. This socio-historical reality warrants an institutional response. If the state supports citizens in education, health, culture, or sports, why should it treat religious matters as a reality it can never formally acknowledge?
A public policy for religious affairs
The state can support pilgrimages, help secure major religious events, foster training, contribute to the renovation of certain places of worship, or assist religious institutions, provided that the rules are transparent and the same principles of equity are applied. Islamologist Abdoul Aziz Kébé specifically highlights the goal of supporting “Muslim, Christian, and traditional religious” communities in their worship and development. Fundamentally, Ousmane Sonko’s proposal initiates a much broader discussion than a mere administrative question.
It compels Senegal to critically examine its own model of secularism. Seydou Ka reminds us of the danger of bureaucratizing the sacred. Étienne Smith encourages us to consider “proportional equidistance.” Seydi Diamil Niane stresses the necessity of institutionalizing relations between public authorities and religious leaders. Maurice Soudieck Dione demonstrates a unique collaboration between political and religious spheres.
The experiences of Côte d’Ivoire, Mali, Guinea, Niger, and Burkina Faso each illustrate diverse ways of organizing these relationships. Sonko, however, poses a different question: why continue to manage through favors what could be organized by law? This is where the true merit of his proposal lies. Provided, of course, that a fundamental error is avoided: institutionalizing religious practice must not signify state control over religion. The state must remain secular. Religions must retain their autonomy. And citizens must be free to practice their faith without impediment.
Therefore, I would not necessarily advocate for a “Ministry of Religion,” which might suggest the state is managing the spiritual realm. Instead, I would champion a republican institution tasked with transparently and equitably organizing relations between the state and various faiths. For Senegal cannot pretend that religion does not exist.
The question, then, is no longer whether to institutionalize religious matters, but how to do so without sacrificing the unique character of Senegalese secularism. And in my opinion, the correct answer lies in one formula: do not institutionalize faith. Institutionalize the state’s relations with faith. This is the only path to reconcile republican secularism, religious freedom, confessional equity, and the autonomy of religious communities.
