Islam at the Tropenmuseum

TROPEN MUSEUM

ISLAM at the Tropenmuseum mirjam shatanawi

islam at the tropenmuseum

ISLAM at the Tropenmuseum mirjam shatanawi

CON TEN TS

9

Foreword

10

Acknowledgments

14

Observing Islam

26

Islam at the Tropenmuseum

68 Arab World

88 Morocco

110 West Africa

134 Turkey

154 Iran

182 India

204 Indonesia

232 Suriname

<< 1 Qajar painting (detail) See fig. 7 <2 Qurâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;anic manuscript (detail) See fig. 23

248 Notes

249 References

252

Index

FOREWORD

<< 3 The Last Judgment narrative painting (detail) See fig. 132 <4 Tile panel The symmetrical layout of the cartouches and medallions in this tile panel emulates the design of the sitara, the curtain that covers the door of the Ka’aba, the Muslim sanctuary in Mecca.

It is unclear why the sitara design was used for these tiles. Perhaps the panel was originally intended for a qibla wall in a mosque.

Earthenware, underglaze painted in polychrome 148 x 254 cm Damascus (Syria) or Kütahya (Turkey) Early 20th century 6438-1. Purchase: Sotheby’s, 2011

Islam at the Tropenmuseum is the fifth in a series of publications on the collections of the Tropenmuseum.

The series is intended to explore the broad-ranging histories of collecting and display at the museum, framed regionally (South East Asia, Africa or Oceania), or by specific object types (photography or textile).

Though sharing a similar goal with the earlier books in the series, this publication is framed somewhat differently. The approach here is neither regional nor ‘typological’, but an exploration of how objects we now regard as Islamic entered the museum’s collection and of the different historical moments in which they were collected. Moreover, it explores how specific collecting discourses have led to some objects being included and others excluded from the collections. This publication, then, is not only a history of the Islamic collections of the Tropenmuseum and their display. It is also an exploration of the changing ways in which the idea of Islam, as a religion, and as a set of practices, has been understood and materialised throughout time within the context of the Tropenmuseum. The publication explores the ways in which some objects and collec­­­­tions become collectable as Islamic and others not.

The Tropenmuseum boasts a long tradition of ‘collecting cultures’ and it is this history that we attempt to record in our collection series. Collections are more than just an accumulation of individual objects. With each object comes a biography: a story of makers and users, of cultural practices, and the relationships that the object engenders. Together these biographies form a cumulative collection biography, a collections history, and this is what each collection book tries to explore.

Like many museums of its kind across Europe, the Tropenmuseum’s early collecting and representational histories were closely bound up with European expan­ sionist ideals and earlier scientific traditions associated with collections and display. This museum traces its own history back to the late 19th-century colonial collections that were brought together in the Colonial Museum in Haarlem, and which focussed specifically on the Dutch colonies. In 1926, the museum was

relocated to Amsterdam as part of the Colonial Institute (Koloniaal Instituut), housed in a purpose-built building. Since then the museum’s role has changed significantly, expanding its focus and thus its collections to include other regions of the world. Today the museum is in the newest phase of its changing history, having recently merged with the National Museum of Ethnology, Leiden, and the Africa Museum, Berg en Dal to form the National Museum of World Cultures.

By adopting a focus on Islam, this publication pushes against one of the basic frameworks around which many ethnographic collections have historically been formed, even if its focus on one of the major religions may seem to be a more conventional ethnographic museum approach. Taking the collections of the museum as a starting point, the author engages questions of global flows of people, of things and ideas, to explore the changing nature of Islam in the many regions of the world from which the museum has collections. Such a focus on Islam – not as a single category but a shared set of changing practices and relations for different groups of peoples across the world – coincides with more recent attempts to rethink the meaning of the category of Islamic art and culture in museums, as well as to rethink ways in which we understand notions of identity.

As director, I recommend Islam at the Tropenmuseum to you, our reader, hoping you will enjoy this small selection of objects in our collections and the multiple and diverse stories they embody. I also want to thank everyone who made this book possible, especially Mirjam Shatanawi, the book’s author and curator of the Middle East and North African collections at the museum. Importantly, I want to thank the BankGiro Loterij, without whose support this series of books on the museum’s collections would not be possible.

We also gratefully acknowledge the support of the Mondriaan Fund for the previous Dutch edition of this book.

Stijn Schoonderwoerd, General Director

9

ACKNOWLEDGMEN TS

Many colleagues, students and others have helped make this book possible. I would particularly like to thank Richard van Leeuwen (University of Amsterdam), Deniz Ünsal (Bilgi University, Istanbul), Gabriëlle van den Berg, Mohamed Saadouni and Hans Theunissen (Leiden University), Geert Mommersteeg (Utrecht University) and Susan Legêne (VU University, Amsterdam) for reading and commenting on specific chapters of this volume.

I am grateful also to my colleagues Paul Faber, Itie van Hout, Ben Meulenbeld, Alex van Stipriaan Luïscius and Pim Westerkamp for their contributions, critical commentary and patient review of the texts.

And I would like to thank Hansje Galesloot for helping develop the concept of the book and editing various chapters.

Several students and researchers also helped lay the groundwork for this volume. It was Nadia Sonneveld who initiated the writing of this book and in the final stages did the preparatory research for the chapter on Indonesia. Liza Otto devoted her MA dissertation to the exhibitions held while Remt Mellema and Carel van Leeuwen were at the museum. She also sifted patiently through the photos in the Tropen­ museum collection for illustrations for this volume.

Judith Vos researched the photographer and collector Josephine Powell and compiled a publication about her life and work (Vos 2008). Kristyna Kynclova spent the long, hot summer of 2006 consulting reference works and corresponding with experts about the objects featured in this book.

The spelling of Islamic terms is based as far as possible on local usage. Many of the words are originally Arabic, and have been absorbed and adapted by other languages such as Persian or Bahasa Indonesia. There the Arabic is also given to enable a comparison with other linguistic traditions. Arabic can be transliterated in different ways. The English translator has looked for the most accessible forms.

Arabic words are therefore written in the form most

10

ISLAM

commonly found in English texts. As a result, the transliteration is not always consistent. That is a personal choice of the translator based on a desire to make this volume accessible to a wide readership. The English translations from the Qur’an are based on various existing texts and are designed to convey the meaning as accurately as possible within the context. Extensive notes would have been inappropriate in this book, which is above all about the visual image. By presenting information in brief vignettes, much which is of interest has been omitted.

In the following summaries I draw the reader’s attention to publications that offer a more extensive discussion of the subject. Indeed, not everything that is known about the featured objects is told here either. To find out more, the Tropenmuseum website provides ample data: http://collectie.tropenmuseum.nl.

The quickest way to find an object on the site is to use the inventory number given with each featured item.

Chapter 1 and 2 While writing these chapters I made use of several sources, as mentioned in the accompanying notes.

I am especially grateful to Susan Legêne for her information about the colonial predecessors of today’s Tropenmuseum. The following are some of the publications which I found particularly useful.

There is no single study of the history of the Tropenmuseum and its antecedents. Van Duuren 1990 offers a brief introduction. More detailed studies of specific areas can be found in other volumes of the present series: Van Dijk et al 2012, Faber 2011, Van Dijk and Legêne 2011, Van Duuren and Vink 2011.

Academic publications about Dutch attitudes to Islam are fragmentary and mainly in Dutch (e.g. Poorthuis and Salemink 2011, De Hond 2008).

Lockman 2004 provides a useful overview of the Anglo-Saxon world, which applies to some extent to the Netherlands too. The memoirs of collector Friedrich Stammeshaus are published in Stammes­

haus 1977. The life and work of photographer diplomat Daniel van der Meulen is discussed in Vink 2003 and Van Leeuwen 1999, that of Josephine Powell in Vos 2008. For an introduction to the religious material culture of Islam, see Patricia Baker (2004). Useful contributions to the debate on Islamic art are Blair and Bloom 2003 as well as a number of articles in Junod et al 2013.

Chapter 3, Arab World A history of the Arab world is provided by Rogan 2009 and Hourani 2004. The controversy surrounding the origins of the Qur’an and the debate regarding establishment of the authorised version of the text is discussed in Mulder and Milo 2009.

A more conventional explanation is offered in Montgomery Watt 1970. Little has been written on the subject of magic bowls, or incantation bowls; Raby 1997 mentions some. I am indebted to the National Museum in Sana’a, Yemen, for their assistance in describing and deciphering the text on the hat featured here. My thanks also to Jowa Imre Kis Jovak for his help in this regard. Retired Dutch ambassador Niek Biegman (1990) wrote a superb and highly informative book about saints’ festivals in Egypt which proved enormously useful while writing this chapter.

Chapter 4, Morocco Much of what I know about Moroccan culture I owe to my former colleague Mohamed Saadouni, my source for many matters relating to Moroccan material culture. Most of the texts in this chapter are based on his research into the collection (for his inventory see Saadouni 2005). Two publications

by Ivo Grammet (1998 and 2006) were always on my desk while writing this chapter. Both works provide an excellent survey of Moroccan art. For background information about the work of ceramist Ahmed Laghrissi, see Triki and Ouazzani 1993.

Chapter 5, West Africa A significant portion of this chapter deals with Sufi art and culture of the Mourides in Senegal. Allen F. Roberts and Mary Nooter Roberts spent many years researching there and wrote a superb book on the subject (Roberts and Nooter Roberts 2003).

My primary source for the history of Senegalese reverse-glass painting is Bouttiaux-Ndiaye 1994.

Geert Mommersteeg (2012) wrote about marabouts and Qur’an education in the city of Djenné in Mali.

Bernhard Gardi, a specialist on Malian textile, collected and described the boubou in this chapter.

For a further exploration of his insights see Bedaux 1994 and Gardi 2000. A study of West African poster culture can be found in Kramer 2004. On the lack of interest in African Islam in art history and a proposal for a reevaluation, see Bravmann 1983.

The history of the Tropenmuseum’s African collection is discussed in detail in Faber 2011.

Chapter 6, Turkey Many of the objects described in this chapter were acquired by my former colleague Deniz Ünsal; she also interviewed the artists. The texts in this chapter are largely based on her descriptions. The description of the Ottoman tomb-cloth is based on Ipek 2006. Atasoy 1994 provides a survey of Iznik ceramics in the Ottoman period. On contemporary neo-Ottoman ceramics from Iznik and Kütahya, see Glassie 1993. While the literature on reverse-glass painting traditions is largely in Turkish, for example Aksoy 2005. Many books have been written about Rumi and Mevlevi Sufis; I used Friedlander 2003.

An excellent introduction to Turkish history is Zürcher 2004. For a specific discussion of cultural political changes since the establishment of the Turkish Republic, see Renda 1986.

11

Chapter 7, Iran I would like to thank Christiane Gruber for her generosity in sharing her insights into nineteenthcentury visual culture. Peter Chelkowski (1989) provides useful information about the development of coffee house painting in relation to Shi’ite narrative culture. Pourjavady 2001 also discusses the subject. Chelkowski and Hamid Dabashi wrote an impressive and richly illustrated book on propaganda art during the Iranian revolution (2000). The discussion of the portraits of the prophet Muhammad is based on an article by Pierre Centlivres and Micheline Centlivres-Demont (2006); the subject is also mentioned in Baker 2004. Art of the Qajar period, including coffee house paintings, is described in Diba 1998. Modern coffee house art, including work by Ahmad Khalili, is discussed (in Persian) by Hadi Seif (2004). For an overview of art by Khosrow Hassanzadeh, see Shatanawi 2007.

Chapter 8, India My colleague Ben Meulenbeld provided much of the information for this chapter. Frank Korom (2003) wrote about the history of Indian Muharram rituals and the use of taziyas. He also published an interesting volume on the narrative traditions of the patuas of West Bengal (2006),on which part of the discussion of the Tropenmuseum scroll painting is based. Work by Mark Zebrowski (1997) provided art-historical insights into Shi’ite ’alams. Field studies by Diane D’Souza (1998 and 2012) into the ritual context in which these objects are used were especially useful. Diane helped me describe the Tropenmuseum collection of ’alams, as did Fred de Jong. South Asian Islamic poster culture is described in detail by Jürgen Frembgen (2006) and Yousuf Saeed (2006). Both authors helped me analyse the posters featured in this book.

12

ISLAM

Chapter 9, Indonesia Much of the detail about Indonesian history is taken from the broad survey by Ricklefs (2008). My thanks especially to colleague Pim Westerkamp for many constructive contributions to the text. Annabel Gallop helped in the description of the map of Mecca.

Additional information about Dutch attitudes to the hajj were gained from Laffan 2003. David van Duuren (1990) published the story of the prophet’s coat made by Santje Wieseman. Further information was found in the KITLV archive and in publications

by Veldhuisen-Djajasoebrata (1984 and 1993).

Background information about the construction and opening of the Great Mosque at Medan were obtained from Deli Courant editions of 11 and 25 August 1909. An earlier, not entirely correct description of the batik amulet coat appeared in Van Hout 2001. While considerable material has appeared on wayang traditions, little has been written about wayang revolusi. Laurie Sears (1996) wrote an interesting study in which she viewed the development of wayang in the context of Dutch disregard for Islam. Bennett 2005 provides an excellently illustrated and pioneering survey of Islam’s role in Southeast Asian art. The history of the Tropenmuseum’s colonial collections from the Netherlands East Indies are described in Janneke van Dijk (2011) and Van Dijk and Legêne 2012.

Chapter 10, Suriname Islam in Suriname has hardly been studied and the available literature is fragmentary, not always accurate and generally out-of-date, as for example the survey by J. Prins (1961). Several different sources were therefore used. Some information was found in a special edition of a periodical, OSO, about religion in Suriname (2002). The discussion of conflicting loyalties among Hindostani Muslims

in Suriname is based on the brochures that the different movements have published on Internet.

Welmoed de Boer (2001) wrote an article discussing a range of interpretations about the now defunct Tajiya festival. A study by Frank Korom (2003) on the migration of Muharram rituals from Iran, via India to the Caribbean offers many insights that also apply to Suriname. The controversy among Javanese Muslims who pray towards the east and those who pray towards the west is described in an article

by Ichwan (1999). Yvonne Towikromo generously devoted an afternoon to explaining the Javanese circumcision rituals. Finally, I would like to thank Prof Maurits Hassankhan for providing information about the construction of the Himayatul Islam mosque, an institution with which his family has close historical ties.

AC KN O WLEDG MENTS 13

OBSERVI NG ISLAM Approaches and definitions

<5 Solomon the Wise and his Troops (detail) Khelifa Jelassi (b. 1946, Tunisia) See fig. 10

This survey discusses over a hundred objects from the collection of the Tropenmuseum in Amsterdam, providing an introduction to the diversity of the Islamic world. It explores the multitude of visions and interpretations of Islam, some deeply personal, others relating to the customs of a particular country or religious movement.

Together, these objects provide a panorama of the countless ways in which Muslims express their faith in art and culture.

This immediately raises the important question how to define Islam.

Is it a culture as well as a religion? Is it possible to separate faith and culture? Over the years, art historians and anthropologists, Islamic scholars and practising Muslims, artists and museum curators have answered these questions in different ways, and their choice of definition has influenced the meanings they have attributed to the art and culture of the Islamic world.

15

6 Gold headdress Is this gold hat a cultural object or a religious object?

The hat, a kuluk, was probably worn on ceremonial occasions by a Javanese sultan. Kuluks symbolise the conversion of Java’s rulers to Islam: instead of wearing crowns with scenes of animals, the new sultans began wearing these hats which, as a result of Islamic influence, were decorated with floral designs.

Gold 11 x 16 cm Demak (Indonesia) Probably 19th century 124-1. Gift: Directors of the Colonial Institute, 1921.

Formerly of the Ir Oltmans Collection

One aspect of Islam, and one of the themes discussed here, is its regional diversity. The objects that will be explored, drawn from eight different countries and regions, provide an opportunity to look more closely at the multifaceted character of religious life in Islam, from its beginnings in the seventh century AD to the present day. Of the countries examined here, four have a special connection with the Netherlands: the former colonies of Indonesia and Suriname are countries where significant groups in the Dutch population trace their descent; so too Turkey and Morocco, from where large numbers of guest workers migrated to the Netherlands. Four countries and regions in which the Tropenmuseum has collected for many years are also discussed: the Arab world, Iran, India and West Africa. Together, these eight chapters and the wide range of objects they cover reveal a regional diversity within Islam which reflects an interplay of local culture, external influences and social and political developments.

It is this which makes these collections at the Tropenmuseum so interesting. Which objects should or should not be considered Islamic? How did collectors distinguish between Islam as a religion and prevailing cultural practices in regions in which

Muslims have resided? What do the collections tell us about how museums viewed Islam and about alternative ways of viewing Islam through changing insights emerging from the academic world?

Interpreting the history of a collection and the original use of objects in a museum is an ongoing process which continues to the present day.

Museums and scholars devote far more resources to this process than they did in the past, when objects were often absorbed into museum collections with only the briefest of descriptions. This constant reinterpretation has encouraged reflection about cultural practices in the countries in which objects were collected and has provided new insights into the perspective of the collectors themselves – the latter being no less interesting. As a result, this volume tells a double-layered story: on the one hand looking at objects made by Muslims as part of their religious practice, while on the other examining the way Dutch collectors and museum staff have viewed these objects and the nature of Islam in the regions in which they collected. In each regional chapter, a separate paragraph addresses precisely this issue, focusing specifically on the Tropenmuseum.

The two introductory chapters discuss the different theoretical frames that have been developed over time as the perspectives on Islam changed, first in a general sense, and then more specifically related to the museum’s acquisition and presentation policy over the last hundred and fifty years.

Diversity of Islam With some 1.4 billion adherents, Islam is one of the world’s largest religions. Around a fifth of the world’s population is Muslim. Islam is divided into two main branches: Sunni (around 85 percent) and Shi’ite (around 15 percent). Within these and alongside them there are countless smaller groups.

Muslims live in every corner of the earth, speak dozens of different languages and form part of an array of national, ethnic and cultural groups. The main demographic concentration has long been in Asia, which contains the countries with the largest Muslim populations: Indonesia, India, Pakistan and Bangladesh. Around twenty percent of all Muslims live in the Arab world. In the twentieth century, millions of Muslims moved to Europe and North America, where they form the second and third largest religious group respectively.

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7 Qajar painting Art historians have only recently developed an interest in Islamic art after 1800.

Under the Qajar dynasty (1779-1925), Iranian artists absorbed European artistic influences, as this lacquer painting demonstrates.

The scene depicted here is a theological debate between Christians and Muslims. The Christians in the foreground are discussing vociferously while in the background, the Prophet Muhammad and other members of the Shi’ite holy family look down at the scene from a hill.

Lacquer on papier mâché 54 x 41 cm, Iran c. 1900, 5631-7. Purchase: S. Motamed, Frankfurt, 1995

It is hardly surprising therefore that Islam embraces many divergent religious, cultural, juridical and political customs and beliefs. There are observant and non-observant Muslims, conservative and progressive Muslims, secular, reformist, funda­ mentalist and radical Muslims. This diversity was reinforced in the course of Islam’s history due to the absence of a single central authority. From its inception, over 1,400 years ago, the religion was able to grow in many different directions. Wherever Islam struck root, it took on the colour of the local culture.

So what is ‘Islam’ then? Does it have any common characteristics, despite its enormous diversity?

Over the centuries, Islamic scholars, anthropologists, theologians, art historians and of course ordinary Muslims have answered this question in many different ways.

In 2006, the issue of Islam’s pluriformity developed into a controversy when Hassan Hanafi, an Egyptian

philosopher, gave a lecture in which he compared the Qur’an to a supermarket in which people choose what they want and leave the rest. Hanafi’s remarks sparked a fierce backlash in Egypt’s media. For his opponents it was obvious: Allah speaks by definition with one voice. Yet Hanafi insisted, pointing to the countless interpretations that Muslim theologians and worshippers have given to the Qur’an over the centuries. He believed that Muslims should embrace the flexibility that the Qur’an allows.1 The controversy surrounding Hanafi’s comments exposes one of the principal dilemmas facing scholars studying Islam: how to discuss the astonishing diversity within Islam in a meaningful way without contradicting the belief of individual Muslims that there is only one true, immutable Islam.

After all, to most Muslims, what a scholar like Hanafi may identify as diversity, is actually a question of true or false, or right and wrong. Museums approach the problem in different ways, each having a range O BSER VI NG I SLA M 17

of definitions at their disposal when classifying their collections, depending on the academic discipline that forms their starting point. Art galleries base their approach on concepts developed by art historians, while ethnographic museums base their approach on anthropological notions. Given the hybrid nature of the Tropenmuseum’s Islamic collections, comprising both objects categorised as art and objects categorized as cultural objects, it would be prudent to start this discussion by examining these two academic traditions more closely.

Islamic art One of the most frequently used concepts relating to Islam in the museum world is the art-historical category of Islamic art. In the Netherlands, the term is used at The Hague’s Gemeentemuseum (Municipal Museum) and the Rijksmuseum (National Museum) in Amsterdam, while parts of various ethnographic collections have also been acquired as Islamic art.

Yet in many ways it remains a controversial and confusing concept. Two eminent specialists in the field, Sheila Blair and Jonathan Bloom, have defined it as follows: ‘The term “Islamic art” refers not only to the art made for Islamic practices and settings but also to the art made by and for people who lived or live in lands where most – or the most important – people were or are Muslims.’2 The term is therefore used in a different way than ostensibly parallel concepts such as Christian or Buddhist art: Islamic art encompasses all art that is made in countries where Muslims have been a majority, or where Muslim rulers have held power.

Indeed, Blair and Bloom’s definition holds that Islamic art is not necessarily connected with religion.

Most of the objects encompassed by the definition are secular and not inspired by faith. As collector and connoisseur David Khalili has remarked: ‘What everyone forgets is that in most cases these objects were not commissioned by imams, but by secular rulers. Most Islamic art is secular, intended for everyday use. Christian art is connected to an ideology; Islamic art invariably merged with the local culture, and that was rarely religious.’3 It is far from clear whether the people who made and acquired these objects thought of them as Islamic. Perhaps they did not, since the objects often had no liturgical use. And the concept of Islamic art equally includes objects that have been intended for use in Jewish or 18

ISLAM

Christian rituals. As a category, Islamic art therefore may include both a wine cup used by an Arab noble­ man and a Christian image painted by an Armenian artist under Ottoman rule.

Western scholars invented the term Islamic art to cover a broad spectrum. Originally these objects had been studied along geographical lines, differentiating between Persian and Turkish art for example, until in the late nineteenth century this approach made way for a cultural-religious perspective in which Islam was the common factor.4 This was part of an attempt by art historians to find connections linking the various forms of art in these disparate countries.

At the same time, this definition reflected an idea that had gained wide currency in the nineteenth century, and which many scholars now dispute, that Islam exercised such a dominant influence on every aspect of life that art in Islamic regions must inevitably have been profoundly influenced too. Religion, it was assumed, made any regional, ethnic and national distinction that had existed between art produced in the Muslim world less relevant.

Blair and Bloom themselves point out the problematic nature of this definition: the parameters are so broad that it is easier to define what Islamic art is not than what it is. It is neither a period nor a style and is not confined to any particular country or region. Yet despite its apparent ubiquity, there is much that the definition excludes. In practice, the emphasis lies on an area stretching from Iran and Afghanistan in the east to Egypt in the west, with excursions into Andalusia, Sicily and India.5 In effect, art historians employed the same theory about the heartland and the periphery of Islam that other academic disciplines also used (see chapter Islam at the Tropenmuseum). Standard works on Islamic art are therefore not the place to look for objects from Indonesia, Mali or Morocco, even though these countries adhere to all the formal criteria with which Islamic art complies.

To make it even more complicated: Islamic art was rarely made as art for art’s sake. Most objects are utilitarian objects which came to be treated as art only at a later date. What makes an item art is more or less a question of degree. In general, Islamic art comprises objects that were made for the courts of sultans, shahs and emirs, or the surrounding upper echelons of bureaucrats and merchants. The

8 Compass While compasses such as these are generally categorised as Islamic art, they were made for a specific purpose: to be able to locate the direction of prayer. Names of cities in the Middle East, such as Najaf, Kufa, Karbala and Baghdad, are inscribed for added convenience.

Brass Ø 10 cm Iran 1879 4313-116a,b.

Purchase: D. Middelhoek collecting trip, 1976

assumption is that their tastes and preferences exercised a significant influence on the appearance of the objects which they commissioned craftsmen to make. Since scholars assigned such a crucial role to rulers and their entourages, it became customary to group Islamic art according to dynasty: objects were classified according to who reigned at the time.

Which is why we now speak of a Mamluk Qur’an or an Ottoman tile. Utensils used by people who did not form part of the generally urban elite, however fine, are rarely considered to be art.

In short, when it comes to Islamic art, the term Islamic is attended by debate. Today, most art historians concede that the definition is inadequate, and possibly even misleading, yet they continue to use it because no acceptable alternative has been found. For ethnographic museums, the objections to the definition are of a different nature. The focus in many collections of Islamic art is on objects that date from the period prior to 1800, before European colonisation of the Middle East and the subsequent rise of the modern nation state. The latter period is precisely the area in which ethnographic museums are most interested. Moreover, these museums have often preferred to concentrate on objects used by people who are not part of the elite, and have focused on rural rather than urban areas. So from an

art-historical perspective, most objects from Muslim countries now in ethnographic museums do not qualify as Islamic art, while from an anthropological perspective art museums have tended to concentrate on only a fraction of Muslim material culture.

One Islam or many Ethnographic museums in the Netherlands, including the Tropenmuseum, use a different system for classifying their collections. It is based on geographical regions, each with its own curator and in many cases also a separate permanent presentation in the museum. Objects from Muslim countries can therefore be found in displays about sub-Saharan Africa, the Middle East, North Africa, South Asia, Southeast Asia and other regions. It was in the 1960s that Dutch ethnographic museums began referring to what they termed an Islamic cultural region, meaning more or less – as in art history – the Middle East and North Africa. At the same time, they looked for ways to fence off Islam as a religion. They wanted to avoid having to define everything from this so-called Islamic cultural region as Islamic, by distinguishing between objects relating to religion, which might therefore be called Islamic, and those objects relating to culture. This division is extremely difficult to put into practice.

Ethnographic museums define their collections O BSER VI NG I SLA M 19

9 Qur’an Muhammad ‘Ali al-Isfahani (calligrapher) This Qur’an is typical of the kind of objects categorised as Islamic art. The calligraphic naskh script text is surrounded by gold, red and blue illumina­ tion. At the same time, the book was also for use: some pages include the first letter of the Persian word for good or bad: this Qur’an was used for predicting the future. The letters enabled the fortune teller to tell at a glance whether the page at which the book was randomly opened was propitious or not.

Paper, ink, gouache, gold paint and lacquer 15 x 9 cm Isfahan (Iran),1799 3300-3. Purchase: Fa. E. van Dam art gallery, Amsterdam, 1963

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using the system of classification devised by anthropologists – the academic discipline from which these museums developed. In the nineteenth century, when anthropology emerged as an academic subject in its own right, Western scholars tried to define Islamic by distinguishing between religion and magic, or in other words, between faith and superstition. They also distinguished different kinds of Islam. Influenced by Robert Redfield’s theory of great and little traditions, in the 1950s anthropologists began increasingly to distinguish between official Islam (great tradition) and popular Islam (little tradition). In this sense, official Islam was the religion practised by Muslims who adhered to the theological norms and rules. By this, scholars meant mainly the literate residents of urbanised areas. Popular Islam was the religion of those who were unaware of theological norms: the religion of illiterate peasants and nomads with their own local customs, rituals and beliefs. This distinction coincided, expectedly, with a division in academic terrains. Scholars of Arabic and Islam studied official Islam by analysing

texts, while popular Islam was the province of anthropologists who studied in the field.

In Dutch ethnographic museums, this distinction between official Islam and popular Islam provided until recently a fairly common guideline for defining collections. It has formed the basic principle in almost every presentation featuring Islam since the 1940s. In this division, objects such as Qur’ans and prayer mats represent the material culture of official Islam, while popular Islam is represented by items such as amulets, magic bowls and mystical attributes from the Sufi tradition. Many of the anthropologists and curators at ethnographical museums of this period considered popular Islam to be the more authentic version of the religion. Fred Ros, curator of Rotterdam’s Museum of Ethnography (today’s Wereldmuseum), explained the idea in 1993: ‘Belief and superstition, such as the worship of saints and the “evil eye”, sometimes go together in a charmingly naïve fashion. In folk customs very ancient ideas are often incorporated in Islam. It is precisely in this

daily life with all its warmth, vitality and imagination that the most appealing expressions of faith are to be found. And this faith does not always reflect the pure Islam of the ’ulama [Islamic scholars].’6 This division into popular and official Islam reinforced the academic distinction between ethnographic and art collections, the latter being considered as more representative of a purer form of Islam. But then, in which category would a Qur’an belong which had been used to forecast the future? And how should the theological norms of a group that rejects the requirement of all Muslims to pray be viewed, such as the Baye Fall of Senegal? These are questions that museums did not consider.

Over the years, this distinction drew increasing criticism in academic circles. Many felt that it was based on false assumptions, such as the idea that Islam is founded on a uniform system of laws and that all Muslims must adhere to these. This was criticised as a value judgement itself derived from theological dogma. Moreover, the same critics pointed out that to assume that theology and religious observance were more or less distinct terrains was to ignore the complexity of actual practice. They also criticised the idea that religion saturated the everyday life of Muslims to such an extent that it was by no means possible to distinguish between religion and culture. So anthropologists began to look for other ways to discuss the diversity within Islam.

In 1977, Egyptian anthropologist Abdul Hamid El-Zein concluded his study of the subject with the observation that Islam comprised so many different phenomena that it is impossible to describe it in terms of universal and perpetual attributes. There are no ideas or customs to which all Muslims subscribe everywhere and always. In the end, Islam is not sustainable as a theoretical concept, El-Zein states. Instead of speaking of Islam, we should be speaking of Islams.7 American anthropologist Michael Gilsenan subsequently proposed that the academic definition of Islam should be based on what Muslims consider Islam to be. And by Islam he meant cultural and ideological ideas and practices, as well as religious. Like El-Zein he considered that instead of a world of Islam, academics should refer to a world of multiple Islams. Gilsenan concluded that ‘the implications of this approach are that Islam will

be discussed not as a single, rigidly bounded set of structures determining or interacting with other total structures but rather as a word that identifies varying relations of practice, representation, symbol, concept, and world view within the same society and between different societies. There are patterns in these relations, and they have changed in very important ways over time.’8 American anthropologist Talal Asad responded to El-Zein and Gilsenan in a much-quoted essay. He drew on philosopher Michel Foucault’s understanding of the term discourse to formulate a new definition of Islam. Asad defined Islam as ‘a discursive tradition that includes and relates itself to the founding texts of the Qur’an and hadith [sayings and acts of Muhammad]. Islam is neither a distinctive social structure nor a heterogeneous system of beliefs, artefacts, customs and morals. It is a tradition.’9 In other words, Asad held that a custom is Islamic if it is handed down as such from one Muslim to another. What matters is the degree to which one person can impose a belief on others. This influence need not necessarily stem from any theological authority; it may be an illiterate parent teaching a child the correct way to pray.10 The advantage of Asad’s definition is that it allows for a range of opinions among Muslims without attaching a value judgement to any; what one Muslim may consider typically Islamic, another may reject entirely. In this way, Asad’s definition rises above the static schematic system of different kinds of Islam, such as traditional and modern Islam, official and popular Islam, or fine art and ethnographic Islamic artefacts. Less convincing is his reference to the Qur’an and hadith as the ultimate source of all Islamic traditions. As the examples discussed in this volume show, Muslims draw from a far wider array of sources.

Debate about Islam in the Netherlands In the discussion about Islam that has raged in the media in the Netherlands and other West European countries in recent decades, it is the static and normladen model of Islam which anthropologists such as Asad have been trying to replace since the 1970s that predominates. Many participants in the debate base their arguments on a notion of Islam (as an overall structure) co-related to Muslim communities or societies. As a result, everything that Muslims say O BSER VI NG I SLA M 21

10 Solomon the Wise and his Troops Khelifa Jelassi (b. 1946, Tunisia) Artist Khelifa Jelassi added comic strip elements to the nineteenth-century TunisianOttoman tradition of reverse glass painting. Here he depicts the court of the prophet.

Sulaiman (the Biblical Solomon). In Muslim tradition, Sulaiman is famed for his magical powers – for example, he could speak to animals and jinn (spirits).

Reverse glass painting 39 x 50 cm c. 2000 6076-9. Purchase: Ed Dar Gallery, Tunis, 2002

or do is traced back to Islam. Polemicists, politicians and academics who support this view, often justify it by pointing to the many Muslims who parade their strict adherence to all the rules of their faith in every aspect of life. They consider it the proof of Islam’s pervasive influence. In this debate, the Qur’an plays a special role, and to a lesser extent the hadith. It is often stated that Muslims take the Qur’an literally and understand its precepts in this way, leading to certain characteristic forms of behaviour. Here too, many who hold this view point to the assertion by numerous Muslims that the Qur’an is their universal guide in life. In this case, Muslim essentialism – the belief among Muslims who hold that Islam exists separately from culture, that Islam is immutable – coincides with the view of those who observe them.11 For the previously quoted anthropologists, where this approach fails is in raising one particular inter­

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pretation to a universal truth without investigating how it relates to other interpretations. No text – not even the Qur’an – can be taken literally, since the very act of reading is itself interpretive. By viewing Islam as static, theological dogmas – however putative – are treated as absolute truths and elevated to the level of norm by precisely the people who criticise Islam most vehemently. This approach hardly does justice to the current discussion in Islamic theology and diverts attention from the many religious practices that often show entirely different realities. Moreover, this approach makes no allowance for the possibility that Islam as a religion is evolving in the Netherlands as part of Dutch society, and vice versa. It defines Islam as a structure with its own logic and power that exists outside Dutch society and does not interact with it in any way.

11 Buraq Three-dimensional figures of religious subjects are a rare occurrence in Islam. While some art historic surveys claim they do not exist at all, examples can be found in ethnographic collections.

This wooden depiction of Buraq, the mythical mount with which the Prophet Muhammad made his night journey, was probably intended to decorate a grave.

Wood, iron, silver 29 x 30 x 20 cm Mindanao (Phillipines) 20th century 5454-2. Purchase: Gijselman BV, Amsterdam, 1992.

Formerly of the A. B. Plessing-de Bree collection

Aniconism or discourse on images One specific area in which this discussion about different views of the nature of Islam surfaces is the question of depiction of figures, a recurring theme in this volume. If one applies the discussion to this issue, two divergent approaches emerge. One is the rigid view that Islam forbids any portrayal of images of living creatures and judges Muslim artists on their adherence to this precept. From this perspective, any attempt to create a votive figure would be considered aberrant.

This view is found for example in A World History of Art, a standard work by British art historians Hugh Honour and John Fleming. Here the authors state that there are a few salient characteristics distinguishing Islamic art, ‘notably its non-figurative and non-symbolic nature [which] arise directly or by implication from the Qur’an and hadith.’12 In this definition, a causal connection is made between the source texts of Islam and art, without actually considering whether those who made and acquired art ever referred to the Qur’an or hadith when deciding about a piece and, if so, how they interpreted the relevant texts. Unsurprisingly, this

approach inevitably leads to further generalisations, such as the conclusion that inscriptions are the only specifically religious elements in Islamic art, or the notion that, since Islam has no priests or rites, there are no ritual garments or vessels.13 Talal Asad’s definition of Islam as a discursive tradition offers an alternative approach which can be used more effectively to analyse the different views regarding the role of figurative imagery. Various artists who are represented in the Tropenmuseum collection have spoken about this. Turkish ceramic artist Faik Kırımlı, whose work is illustrated on p. 153, responds to those who claim that Islam forbids figurative art: ‘Extremism (ta’assub) destroys Islam.

It is a sin to depict human figures in religious art or art made for religious spaces because people might worship human figures. It is not a sin if you make art for art.’14 And he cites a famous hadith that relates how the Prophet Muhammad destroyed all the idols in the Ka’aba, the sanctuary at Mecca. Yet he left one beautiful icon of the Madonna and Child unharmed. Although the Prophet abhorred idolatry, he appreciated art, Kırımlı seems to be saying. By referring to this tale, Kırımlı positions himself within Islamic tradition, while at the same time defending his own point of view. And by referring to extremism, he contrasts his own position with that of contemporaries who support a different view.

Unlike Kırımlı, Senegalese artist Assane Dione (p. 128-29) paints specifically for religious loca­tions and receives explicit approval for his work from the spiritual leaders he follows. Dione is convinced that his paintings of holy persons convey baraka, in the sense of divine power, to those who view them.15 Khelifa Jelassi, a painter from Tunisia, attempts in his work to inject new life into the traditional imagery of Qur’an stories (see fig. 10). He considers that Muslim artists who paint the prophets in the Qur’an are simply using their imagination. When asked whether these depictions are actually haram (forbidden) in Islam, he responds that reviving artistic traditions can never be considered a sin.16 From the examples of these artists, it is clear that the message of Islam is subject to negotiation. To claim that all figurative imagery is always prohibited in Islam is too simple. Instead there is an ongoing discussion about the role of imagery in the religious sphere. However much some Muslims claim that

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12 Banner showing Ali as a lion Various Qur’an verses and magical motifs, such as Ali’s double-bladed sword, are shown here in a batik design.

These banners were displayed at the court of Yokyakarta during religious ceremonies.

The iconography shows the influence of Ottoman banners.

Cotton, pigment 192 x 92 cm Yokyakarta (Indonesia) 19th century 5663-1. Purchase: H. C. Veldhuisen, 1996

their Islam is unrelated to culture and universally applicable, in practice Muslims are continually debating the definition and interpretation of the ideas, practices and experiences that make up their religious environment.

The established view of Islam in art history ignores too much of the material culture of Muslims, to be able to make far-reaching statements about it.

When everyday culture is taken into consideration, other views soon become apparent, for example about the function of figurative imagery in Islam.

Until recently art historians generally accepted that portrayals of the Prophet Muhammad ceased with the demise of Persian and Ottoman miniature art after the sixteenth century. In fact the tradition received a new lease of life in popular art, as the Tropenmuseum collection, and other ethnographic collections, demonstrate. New insights like these result from interdisciplinary studies of ethnographical and art collections in which researchers combine anthropological, historical and art historical methods. This publication is itself a modest appeal for a more integrated approach.

Plan of this volume In this discussion of over a hundred objects at the Tropenmuseum, Gilsenan and Asad’s definitions

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form the guiding principle. A basic starting point is that Islam as a religion is part of a culture or society and while these are connected at many levels, they are not necessarily synonymous. In other words, some objects from countries in which Muslims live may be deemed Islamic (in the religious sense) and others not. Here the subject is Islamic objects, and so by implication only a fraction of the total collection.

It is far from being an overall survey or cross-section of all the Tropenmuseum’s objects from Muslim countries. That makes this book quite unlike others of its kind. It differs also in its use of the term Islam, which refers here only to the religion. An exception is the term Islamic art, which is used in the conventional sense to refer to classical arts of the Muslim world, both secular and religious. It can be difficult if not impossible to determine which objects should be considered religious and which not. Yet when viewing Islam from Asad and Gilsenan’s perspective as a history of different movements, ideas and customs which have in common that their founders and adherents see themselves as part of Islam, it is the user’s perspective which takes the lead. The objects discussed here are Islamic because they have a religious function, because they have been used in a religious act or because they display a religious text or portrayal that gives the object an Islamic