Plight of the Imam Sann

Centuries ago, the Khmer kings who ruled Cambodia were buried in the royal capital of Oudong, close to Phnom Penh. Their tombs were built on a hill with a panoramic view of the countryside. It’s a holy Buddhist site. But each October, Oudong is crowded with practitioners of another religion: an ancient strand of mystical Islam. Beside a simple white mosque, hundreds of men, women and children pray at the grave of their spiritual leader, a Cambodian Muslim called Imam Sann. The festival, Mawlid, is a tradition standing firm amid great and rapid change.

On a Sunday last October, the atmosphere was carnivalesque. At the base of the hill, families picnicked. Whole chickens sizzled on the grills. Up top, tables were stacked with star-shaped cakes, from which dollar-bills dangled like Christmas tree baubles. Crowds scrambled down a rocky outcrop to a small hut where men prayed.

“Imam Sann didn’t die on the top of this mountain, but he gave a dream to the Islamic people and so [19th century king] Ang Duong offered the land to him,” explained Piseth Man, a wiry, 25-year-old youth community leader. “So our Islamic people built the grave for him, and we celebrate every year.

The Imam Sann are not your average Muslim faithful. At Mawlid, men and women, who covered their hair with everything from glittering red and leprechaun green scarves to cloth and straw hats, spoke of the diversity of their beliefs. “Even though I respect Imam Sann, I can go to a pagoda to pray as a Buddhist,” said Khach Chas, a high-spirited woman in her sixties, dressed in a traditional black robe. “Imam Sann never told us not to respect other religions,” she added.

Descended from the people of Champa, who fled present-day south and central Vietnam in the 16th century, ethnic Cham and other Muslims have lived in Cambodia for generations. Imam Sann make up more than 30,000 of the 400,000-strong group. Since the devastation of the Khmer Rouge, who were notoriously intolerant of religion, Islam in Cambodia has undergone great shifts as ideas from the Middle East and South and Southeast Asia have taken hold. Imam Sann has begun to lose followers.

Few are more anxious about these changes than the 75-year-old Imam Sann leader Okhna Knour - awarded the honorary title okhna by the government. At his home in Srey Pre village, Kampong Chhnang province, he sounded world-weary. “I have encountered countless hardships in my life,” he said.

The Khmer Rouge regime, which Knour survived, was notoriously intolerant of religion. The U.N.-backed genocide trial of former leaders Khieu Sampan and Nuon Chea got underway two years ago in Phnom Penh, charges included the mass murder of Muslims. In August 2014, Sampan and Chea were handed life sentences for crimes against humanity. Another trail will deal specifically with genocide charges. Up to half a million Cham were killed during their four years in power.

The Khmer Rouge came close to killing Knour three times. Once, soldiers stopped him under a mango tree to be executed after spotting him reject meat. As he sobbed in fear, he lied, telling them his distaste was not religiously motivated.

But today the leader faces a different kind of hardship: division within his own flock. In Srey Pre, the Kao Sor Orussey mosque has stood for decades: an unadorned white building accompanied by a shack where children learn the Cham language. Deputy Imam Sann leader Kork Math said 500 families had once worshipped there; 350 remain after the rest joined a mainstream group. That community prays five times a day – as opposed to the Imam Sann’s once a week – learns Arabic and wears the headscarf, he said. In 2011 they built another mosque, saying the original was too small. Okhna Knour sees the move as a power-grab.

When the mosque was inaugurated, a government official urged the community to unite. Knour has continued to campaign. “This is a sign of dividing, so I have tried to stop it, but they are stubborn,” he said. “[Our followers] want to leave because the second group gets a lot of donations from Arab [countries], but we do not have,” said Knour. He has sought donations to help restore his mosque since the early 2000s. “It is difficult because they are rich and we are poor.” To receive highly sought-after donations, locals are often asked to conform. “If we want them to help us, we must follow their practice,” Knour said. As he spoke, he became increasingly agitated. “Why they help? Because they want to lure or attract us. They want to divide us. They want us to have even a little argument and they come to divide.”

Farina So, whose family comes from an Imam Sann village, has studied the community for 10 years as head of the Cham Oral History Project at the Documentation Center for Cambodia. She agrees the number of Imam Sann have “significantly decreased.”

“I believe there are several reasons for this decrease, but one of the motives is... material support such as mosques, religious schools, scholarships either for religious or secular education,” she wrote in an email.

Ahead of Eid al-Adha last year, a village in Thboung Khmom province celebrated a Malaysian donation of 180 Qurbani cows to be slaughtered. It was a grand affair. Luxury cars rolled down the dirt tracks towards a packed marquee. The Minister for Rural Development made a speech. Cash-stuffed envelopes and batik dresses were handed out. After the ceremony, Nazy Saleh, the president of the Cambodian Muslim Media Centre said: “It’s not a kind of tension but some Imam Sann communities feel that they are ignored because the Islamic law...Their understanding of a lot of Islamic law is not clear. Some argue that the Qurbani cow is only for the pure Muslim.”

The marginalization of Imam Sann is one of the factors driving conversion, according to So. As well as strands of Islam from South and Southeast Asia, Saudi Arabian Wahhabism has arrived in Cambodia. With it have come practices, including encouraging women to wear the veil, rarely seen before the Khmer Rouge. These have been channeled to Islamic orphanage schools in Phnom Penh and elsewhere, according to So. “This group condemns culture and traditions and appeals for authentic or pure Islam, which focuses on prophet Muhammad’s doing and saying,” she wrote. “Anything that contradicts tenets of Islam or oneness of God (tawhid) is considered as an act of shirk (polytheism).”

In an email after the cow donation, one of the Malaysian sponsors, Hashim A. Rahim, a property, development and investment consultant, said he was “very sensitive” about the minority communities’ way of life and did not intend to influence them. “Their scholars mostly received their higher education abroad in other Muslim countries and when they return they may be applying the ways as being taught in those tertiary institutions naturally,” he added. But some feel compelled to adopt mainstream beliefs to access that education, according to youth community leader Man. He estimated that 20 percent of young Imam Sann have switched beliefs, many of them in pursuit of scholarships and other benefits. “Our Imam Sann communities can’t offer enough support to them because we still lack resources,” he said.

Among the crowds at Oudong, one young woman said she had been to Mawlid every year since she was born, and her Buddhist husband converted after their marriage. But her aunt Cout Thes, a gentle woman in her late thirties, was concerned. “I’m not afraid of losing Imam Sann for my generation, but I am worried about the young generation who have a lot of modern technology and change to believe other religions,” she said. “I always prayed inside my mind for what I want from Imam Sann. It is so important for me to come and meet him here, once a year.”