
In Senegal, religion extends beyond the private sphere, actively contributing to social cohesion, crisis mediation, education, and even political regulation. Despite this pervasive influence, the relationship between the State and religious communities largely operates through informal channels. This raises a critical question: can the institutionalization of religious affairs help transcend clientelism without compromising the nation’s secular principles? The core debate may no longer be whether to formalize state-religious interactions, but rather how to implement such institutionalization without directly institutionalizing religion itself.
It is crucial to dispel a common misconception: institutionalizing the relationship between the State and religious communities does not automatically transform religion into a state-controlled entity. Several African nations have already opted to establish public bodies dedicated to religious affairs.
Mali, for instance, operates with a Ministry of Religious Affairs, Worship, and Customs. Guinea has a General Secretariat for Religious Affairs, while Côte d’Ivoire maintains a dedicated administration for various faiths. Morocco has taken institutionalization even further, with its Higher Council of Ulemas and the significant role of Amir Al-Mouminine.
Senegal, too, has initiated an embryonic form of institutionalization. The establishment of the Directorate of Religious Affairs and Integration of Arab Language Graduates in April 2024 marked a significant initial stride. Its director, Djim Dramé, openly states that the objective is precisely to “formalize relations between the State and religions” and foster peace, harmony, and coexistence. Consequently, the current discourse revolves less around the necessity of an administration for religious matters and more about the extent of institutionalization Senegal wishes to implement.
Islamologist Abdoul Aziz Kébé views the anticipated transformation of the Directorate of Religious Affairs into a General Delegation as a “positive evolution” and an “institutional elevation.” His argument is particularly compelling: “religion is a valuable resource in our country,” especially for social cohesion and the adoption of public policies.
Given that religion already serves as a vital social, cultural, and even political resource for Senegal, why should its interactions with the State continue to be managed primarily through personal relationships, courtesy calls, ad hoc delegations, and circumstantial arrangements? It is within this context that Ousmane Sonko’s proposals gain relevance.
Sonko advocates for a genuine institutionalization of state-religious relations, structured around several key propositions: establishing a dedicated budget for religious worship, elevating the Delegation for Religious Affairs to a Secretary of State or a full-fledged ministry, officially recognizing certain privileges granted to religious leaders, and regulating special funds through an accredited commission.
A ‘collaborative secularism’ between politics and religion
The underlying rationale is clear: to transition from a system of discretionary favors to one governed by predefined rights and transparent regulations. 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 specific criteria, it becomes an institutional process. The State’s function, therefore, should not be to control religion, but to establish a framework that organizes its interactions with religious entities.
Senegal is constitutionally a secular state. This fundamental reality cannot be circumvented or diminished. The Constitution affirms that the Republic is secular, democratic, and social, ensuring equality for all citizens regardless of religion and respecting all beliefs. Therefore, the institutionalization of religious worship cannot lead to the establishment of any state religion.
The pertinent question, however, is whether secularism prohibits the State from structuring its interactions with religious bodies. Political science professor Maurice Soudieck Dione highlights that Senegalese secularism has a unique historical trajectory. It does not strictly align with the French model of rigid separation. He describes it as a “laïcité of collaboration between politics and religion.” Thus, the distinctiveness of the Senegalese model lies in its “pragmatic accommodation” with confraternities and the Church.
Nevertheless, 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, 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 undermine 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, the State creates an administrative interlocutor. In the latter, it gradually begins to define who is legitimate, who can speak for a community, which activities are permissible, how places of worship should operate, and which religious leaders can receive public recognition.
The concern of a ‘bureaucratization of the sacred’
The State’s ambition to organize religions themselves carries an inherent risk, potentially altering their fundamental nature. Researcher Bakary Sambe eloquently summarized the peril in the interplay between politics and religion in Senegal. He observes 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 occasionally 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 interactions between the State and religious authorities remains personalized. A president cultivates a specific relationship with a particular Khalife. A minister might be closely associated with a certain religious family. A local authority may secure investments more easily due to its religious influence.
A major religious event receives special support because of its significance. The question then becomes: is it better to leave these practices informal or subject them to public regulations? In my view, institutionalizing them is preferable. However, with a crucial caveat: we must not institutionalize faith; we must institutionalize the State’s relationship with the religious phenomenon.
This perspective aligns with Djim Dramé’s assertion that the Directorate of Religious Affairs aims to engage with “all religious sensitivities” and formalize state-religious interactions. 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 clear communication regarding the structure’s role to prevent misunderstandings. This interfaith dimension is paramount.
Senegal is a profoundly religious society. Muslims constitute a vast majority, while Christian communities boast a considerable 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 consider the religious sphere as a reality it can never institutionally acknowledge?
A public policy for religious affairs
The State can offer support for pilgrimages, contribute to the security of major religious events, aid religious training, participate in the renovation of places of worship, and assist religious establishments, 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. Ultimately, Ousmane Sonko’s proposal opens a much broader debate 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 stresses the necessity of institutionalizing relations between public authorities and religious leaders. Maurice Soudieck Dione demonstrates a distinct collaboration between the political and religious spheres.
Experiences from Côte d’Ivoire, Mali, Guinea, Niger, and Burkina Faso each illustrate various approaches to organizing these relationships. Sonko, however, poses a different question: why continue to manage through favors what could be governed by law? This is where the true value of his proposition lies. Provided, of course, that a fundamental error is avoided: institutionalizing worship must not equate to state control of religion. The State must remain secular. Religions must retain their autonomy. And citizens must be free to practice their faith.
Therefore, I would not necessarily advocate for a “Ministry of Religion,” which might suggest the State becoming a manager of spiritual matters. Instead, I would champion a republican institution tasked with transparently and equitably organizing relations between the State and religious practices. For Senegal cannot pretend that religion does not exist.
The question, then, is no longer whether to institutionalize the religious fact, but how to do so without losing the unique character of Senegalese secularism. And in my view, the correct answer lies in one principle: do not institutionalize faith. Institutionalize the relationships with faith. This is the only path to reconcile republican secularism, religious freedom, confessional equity, and the autonomy of religious communities.
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