In Senegal, religion extends far beyond the private sphere. It plays a pivotal role in fostering social cohesion, mediating conflicts, shaping education, and even influencing political dynamics. Yet, the interactions between the Senegalese state and its diverse religious communities largely depend on informal practices. This raises a critical question: could formalizing worship relations help transcend clientelism without undermining the nation’s secular identity? The core of the debate may no longer be whether to institutionalize these ties, but rather how to achieve it without institutionalizing religion itself.
Dispelling a common misconception is crucial: institutionalizing the relationship between the state and religious communities does not automatically equate to making religion a state affair. Several African nations have already opted to establish public bodies dedicated to religious matters. 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 dedicated administration for cults. Morocco has taken this institutionalization even further with its Supreme Council of Ulemas and the role of Amir Al-Mouminine.
Senegal, too, has taken nascent steps towards formalization. The creation of the Directorate of Religious Affairs and the Integration of Arabic Language Graduates in April 2024 marked a significant initial move. Djim Dramé, the director, openly states its purpose: to “formalize relations between the State and religions” and promote peace, harmony, and coexistence. Consequently, the contemporary discussion revolves less around the necessity of a religious affairs administration and more about the extent of institutionalization Senegal intends to pursue.
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 compelling argument highlights that “religion is a resource in our country,” particularly in fostering social cohesion and ensuring the appropriation of public policies.
If religion already serves as a vital social, cultural, and even political resource for Senegal, why persist in managing its interactions with the state primarily through personal connections, courtesy visits, ad hoc delegations, and circumstantial arrangements? This perspective underpins the proposal put forth by Ousmane Sonko. He advocates for a genuine institutionalization of state-religious community relations, structured around several key initiatives: establishing a dedicated budget for worship, elevating the Delegation for Religious Affairs to a Secretariat of State or a full-fledged ministry, officially recognizing specific provisions granted to religious leaders, and regulating special funds through a commission of sworn individuals.
A collaborative secularism
The underlying principle is clear: to transition from a system of discretionary favors to one governed by predefined rights and rules. When a religious leader receives administrative assistance due to proximity to the president, it constitutes a favor. However, if the same assistance is codified by law, with clearly defined conditions applicable to all leaders meeting identical criteria, it becomes an institutional norm. The state’s role should therefore not be to control religious practice, but to establish a framework that organizes its interactions with it.
Senegal is constitutionally a secular state. This fundamental reality cannot be circumvented or relativized. The Constitution affirms the Republic as secular, democratic, and social, guaranteeing equality for all citizens regardless of religion and respecting all beliefs. Therefore, institutionalizing worship cannot lead to any form of state religion.
Nevertheless, the question remains whether secularism prohibits the state from organizing its relations with religious bodies. Political science professor Maurice Soudieck Dione aptly demonstrates that Senegalese secularism has a unique historical trajectory. It does not precisely mirror the strict separation model found in France. Instead, he characterizes it as a “laïcité of collaboration between the political and the religious.” This distinct Senegalese model operates through a “pragmatic accommodation” with confraternities and the Church.
However, the discussion cannot be reduced to a simplistic notion that “because religion holds an important place in society, a Ministry of Worship must be created.” Seydou Ka, a journalist and columnist, rightly warns against the risk of transforming secularism into a form of administrative control over religious affairs. He expresses concern about a “bureaucratization of the sacred” and a potential drift towards “laicism” that could erode the autonomy of religious leaders.
This observation is fundamental, as there is a clear distinction 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 who is legitimate, who can speak on behalf of a community, which activities should be authorized, how places of worship must operate, and which religious leaders can benefit from public recognition.
The threat of ‘bureaucratization of the sacred’
The state’s desire to organize religions themselves poses an obvious risk and could fundamentally alter their nature. Researcher Bakary Sambe has succinctly summarized the peril in the interplay between politics and religion in Senegal. He notes that “our leaders seek in religion a legitimacy they lack in politics.” The danger of institutionalization, in this context, 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 are personalized. A president cultivates a specific relationship with a particular khalife. A minister maintains close ties with a certain religious family. A community more easily secures investments due to its religious influence. A major religious event receives special support. The question then arises: is it better to leave these practices informal or subject them to public regulations? In my view, it is preferable to institutionalize them. However, with a crucial distinction: we must not institutionalize faith; we must institutionalize the state’s relations with religious matters.
This aligns with Djim Dramé’s stance when he asserts that the Directorate of Religious Affairs aims to listen to “all religious sensitivities” and formalize state-religion relations. The National Council of Laity has also expressed support for this approach, viewing the Directorate as a potentially effective interface between the Church and the State. Its president, Philippe Abraham Tine, emphasized the need for a clear explanation of this structure’s role to prevent misunderstandings. This interconfessional dimension is paramount. Senegal is a profoundly religious society, with a significant Muslim majority and a substantial, historically and socially entrenched Christian presence. This socio-historical reality demands 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 institutionally acknowledge?
Public policy on religious matters
The state can support pilgrimages, contribute to the security of major religious events, foster training, participate in 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 objective of supporting “Muslim, Christian, and traditional religious communities” in their worship and development. Fundamentally, Ousmane Sonko’s proposal ignites a debate far more profound than a mere administrative question.
It compels Senegal to critically examine its unique model of secularism. Seydou Ka reminds us of the risk of bureaucratizing the sacred. Étienne Smith encourages us to consider “proportional equidistance.” Seydi Diamil Niane emphasizes the necessity of institutionalizing relations between public authorities and religious leaders. Maurice Soudieck Dione demonstrates a particular collaboration between the political and the religious spheres.
Experiences from Côte d’Ivoire, Mali, Guinea, Niger, and Burkina Faso each illustrate diverse methods of organizing these relationships. Sonko, for his part, poses another fundamental question: why continue to manage through favor what could be organized through law? This is where the true merit of his proposal lies. However, a critical error must be avoided: institutionalizing worship 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 interference.
Therefore, I would not necessarily advocate for a “Ministry of Religion,” which could convey the impression that the state is managing spiritual matters. Instead, I would champion a republican institution tasked with transparently and equitably organizing the relations between the state and various forms of worship. Senegal cannot simply ignore the existence and influence of religion. The question is no longer whether to institutionalize religious matters, but how to do so without losing the unique essence of Senegalese secularism. In my assessment, the correct approach can be summarized thus: do not institutionalize faith. Institutionalize the state’s relations with faith. This is the only path that reconciles republican secularism, religious freedom, confessional equity, and the autonomy of religious communities.
