Who was Tierno Bokar? 

A great Sufi master who lived in Africa, or more exactly in Mali, or more precisely in Bandiagara, a small but flourishing town at the foot of the Dogon cliffs. The specific nature of Tierno Bokar’s teaching lies in the fact that in the first half of the twentieth century, in a modest African compound, a man who devoted his life to the contemplation of God could share this with others in a way that was modern, open and unique, and he had as his most attentive pupil the writer Amadou Hampaté Bâ. 

Tierno Bokar, like Hampaté Bâ, was linked through his family with a Sufi order, the Tidjanya. He was born in 1875 in Segou, a glittering city on the banks of the river Niger, which had only just become converted to Islam. As they penetrated deeper into Africa, the French had conquered Segou, and the family of the young Tierno Bokar was forced to take refuge in its own little compound in Bandiagara. It was here that Tierno lived his remaining 47 years. 
 

When, at the age of 33, he opened his zaouia, he had only 4 pupils, but very rapidly the number grew to 400.  

What was it that made Tierno Bokar an exceptional master, whose teaching seems so precious to us today? Firstly, Tierno, which means “master” in Peul – the first name given to him by his parents – was a master who did not like to be called “master.” One day an enthusiastic young man came to him and declared: “Tierno, I heard of you and your teaching, people only say good things, I wish to choose you as my master!” This was the answer: “Brother in God, although I’m flattered I’ve a piece of advice to give you: no man ever corresponds exactly to his reputation, it would be far better for you to spend many months in useful study, listen to me day after day, and then week after week, check on what I say, come closer to me month after month, before making your choice, and even then it should not be as a master, but as your guide or your brother.” 

Listen to the description Amadou Hampaté  Bâ gives in his book “The Life and Teaching of Tierno Bokar”: “Each of Tierno’s gestures was measured, they were expressions of his will. He had completely mastered his body, his presence radiated joy and inner peace. Everyone knew it was sufficient to sit by him to feel one’s worries disappear, we left our cares at his door.”  

This is how the great poet Maabal describes Tierno: 

“A constant smile which calls you

a forehead shining like a mirror

a mirror stamped

with the dark point of prostration.” 

His whole being, his life itself, was teaching. His highest truths were found within the simple actions of ordinary life and so day after day his pupils could be impregnated by him, through his words, through his silences. He could always place himself exactly on the same level as his listeners. One day a Dogon, who could neither read nor write, came to him and asked to be his pupil. Tierno invented for him a very simple form of mnemotechnic teaching which he later used for those – and they were many! – who knew no written language. Step by step, as he developed the principles of his teaching, he drew in the sand a series of points that gradually stamped themselves on the pupil’s memory.  

This teaching was divided into three essential parts: in the first part, which he called the Primordial Pact, his starting point was erse 171 of sura 7, where God asks the soul of men the following question: “Am I your Lord?” and the response is: “Yes, we are the witnesses.” In each man of God is sealed a fragment of the secret of the Divine Presence. This fragment enables him to draw from his doubts and his lies the essential truth. Recognising the troubled times in which the Africans were living, he insisted on the need for each one to make a choice which would be like an echo of the original “yes.” A choice between the ascending life, made of effort and courage, and the easy descending life, which can only lead to the dissolution and loss of oneself.  

The second he called “Maddin”. When he was asked the question: “what is religion?” His answer was: “religion is the Way.” And he was asked: “How many ways are there?” He replied: “73. The first 72 are the ways of error. The 73rd is the way of rectitude, the only one that leads to God.” He exposed the basic principles of Islam, submission to God, faith and perfect behaviour - “Islam”, “Imam” and “Ishan.”  

The third concerned the specific Sufi teaching, based on three fundamental laws: the Law, the Way and the Truth – “Sharia,” “Tariqa,” and “Haqiqa,” built on the three pillars: Islam, Imam and Ishan. He said these three pillars contained all the mysteries that the great Prophets and the true initiates of every religion know, and those who do not should keep silent. Quoting the Prophet, he added: “These who recognise the limits of their science – God will help them to acquire another science, deeper and more divine.”  

Above all Tierno Bokar taught – and demonstrated by his own openness – tolerance. Religion quarrels were of no interest to him. He had a horror of ostentation. For him there was only one religion open and common to all, crossing the world, in a diversity of forms, but always unique. “We bitterly deplore the contemptuous attitude of certain religious people which leads them to reject, as cacophonous, their neighbour’s hymns. To combat this tendency, brothers in God, whatever the religion to which you are attached, meditate deeply on this verse: “The creation of the heavens and of the earth, the diversity of your tongues and of your colours are so many marvels for those who can reflect.” Koran, Sura 30, Verse 22 

Like every Sufi, he looked for difficulties – he wished to verify whether he had the patience and the endurance he taught the others. “I ask God that at the moment of my death I have more enemies to whom I’ve done nothing, than friends.” Terrible words, when one thinks of the period when he was abandoned by all for only one reason – because he had sworn allegiance to the Cherif Hamallah, a man younger than himself. He could then die serene and confident alone with his two wives in his deserted zaouia. He considered that his quiet and happy life in the zaouia surrounded by love and respect had not brought him a trial capable of revealing the degree of his power of resistance, of his supreme capacity to abandon himself to God’s will. He took care at the same time that no one else should follow him on this perilous path.