EMQ » October–December 2020 » Volume 56 Issue 4
By Various Authors
Over eight hundred field workers among unreached peoples were invited to submit brief case studies on the challenge of “people group” thinking in their context. In particular, they were asked about ways their field experience has led them to “rethink” people group concepts and approaches. The following notes from the field offer a glimpse into ministry among unreached peoples. These voices provide insights that take us from missiological theory to the challenges and ambiguities of frontier mission practice. Many of the issues explored in other articles are illustrated here, including disjunctions between lists, databases, categories and field realities; migration, urbanization and social change; power dynamics; language and ethnic identity; multiethnicity; diaspora and transnational networks; hybrid and multiple identities; and implications for evangelism and church planting. The reports have been edited for clarity and length, and locations veiled for security. Opinions expressed are each author’s own (usually a pseudonym) and may not reflect the views of EMQ or the Rethinking People Groups Forum.
Central Asia
“Anthony Roberts”
As our agency’s first team in this restrictive Central Asian country, we chose the largest people group listed as unreached, the “Ghairat.” This gave us focus and was useful in recruiting a team. However, what seemed simple quickly became complicated. Once on the field we quickly ran into internal and external challenges related to using the people group approach as a church-planting strategy.
To begin with, we faced opposition from foreign co-workers who saw our people group approach as divisive and discriminatory against other ethnicities. In our country context, ethnic identity had been used by warlords to factionalize and discriminate against other groups. Using ethnic identifiers had immediate political implications.
We adapted by avoiding using people group terms, and not giving preference to Ghairat in our local relationships. We did this by learning both official languages even as we moved into a predominantly Ghairat area. We also decided to share Good News and disciple whomever God brought to us. Ironically as I look back, we discipled far more from other ethnicities than from among our adopted people group!
The external challenges to our people group approach came as we interacted with people we thought were Ghairat, but who had a muddled ethnic and linguistic background. They did not fit neatly into the ethnic box we had found so useful in recruiting. They intermarried with other ethnic groups. Traditional Ghairat ways were diluted. They spoke a yet unnumbered variety of dialects (some mutually unintelligible). Others spoke several languages even at home, e.g. the trade language with their mother and Gharati with their father. Many could not speak or read their traditional tongue. Some, though not ethnically Ghairat, had been living so long in their area that they acted just as the majority around them.
Cities were particularly confusing. Higher levels of education, in contrast to rural areas, made ethnic identity less important. Yet even if their practices and values reflected urban lifestyles, Ghairat still claimed to be Ghairat. In some situations, ethnic status still had advantages, e.g. legitimizing an acquired position of power, or appealing to ethnic ties for political or military support. How utterly frustrating it was to try to answer: “Who is a real ‘Ghairat’ and how much does it matter?”
As I re-read Romans 15:20–21, I saw Paul focused “where Christ was not known” – a geographic or “place” indicator not based on ethnicity, religion, social standing, gender, or nationality. Similarly, he did not gather the Church into segments based on ethnic, or socio-economic factors. The simplicity of the Gospel encourages a common sense of identity in Christ. Distinctions of culture were secondary to the unity of the Body.
Why aim for a mono-ethnic church when there was no church of any kind in the area? A local proverb says, “There are five brothers (fingers/thumb), but not all are the same (equal).” There is a cultural recognition that everyone is different, yet they can be unified. In a country torn apart by decades of inter-ethnic strife and ethnonationalism, I choose not to tie the gospel to ethnic separatism. I sought to establish urban fellowships based on common identity with Christ, rather than on ethnic/religious factors that reflect the subtle but pernicious divisions around us.
South Asia
“Tom Tonges”
A large church in the Midwest, USA, decided they would find an unreached Muslim people group and reach them. They were assisted by a mission organization with a similar focus. They prayed over the list for Bangladesh for one year, and then sent a high-level group to scout out this unreached Muslim people group (MUPG) to make a plan to reach them. The group included the lead pastor, an associate pastor, missions chairman, an elder or two, and a couple of women in leadership. The head of the mission organization had led other such trips and did so for this one also. He knew me from years before and emailed me about this trip telling me that this church had selected the “Ansari Muslims” of Bangladesh. I wrote back telling him that I very much doubted they would find such a group. There were supposedly twenty thousand in my area, but I knew that “Ansari” was a title, not a specific people group. The church leaders came to a city where there were supposed to be over one hundred thousand Ansari Muslims. They managed to locate some kingdom workers there, who told them the same thing I had said. There is no such MUPG in their city or region! The so-called Ansari Muslims are part of the larger Bengali Muslim people group and not a distinct group. Ansari, in the Bangladesh context, is a title, not a group specifier. Very frustrated and sad, the church group left after four days. Happily, that is not the end of the story. My friend called and asked if they could visit us. During that visit, the group fell in love with our people group (which is still not listed!), adopted it, and have seconded a couple to our team.
This example seems to reflect a larger issue affecting UPG lists for South Asia. For example, in the Greater Bengal, there are massive groups of Bengali and Bengali-related speakers both in India and Bangladesh. “Sheikh” is listed as the predominant group. However, “Sheikh” is simply a title and has nothing to do with a group in which the gospel could flow. I cannot even guess how someone listed this as a group with that title. The lists in no way reflect reality on the ground. I have discussed this with those in charge of the lists mostly to fall on deaf ears.
South Asia
“Jack Smith”
In obedience we went to the vast South Asia to work among Muslims some years ago. For a few years, we learned language and culture and gained some experience. We were trying to figure out where we fit. Then we received a clear call to a specific region. Initially, I looked on the people group lists, but found that Muslims of South Asia were divided into categories that made no sense to someone on the ground. We made several important discoveries.
First, after two years in the city, I discovered that this region had their own language, which was not the national language. Before moving to this city, my team had all learned the national language well. I had a professional position as a consultant, and the senior staff were cordial to me. They spoke to me in English. The staff, like all educated people, spoke the national language excellently, but to exclude me from their conversation they spoke in their “heart language.” I have since learned that this is how people groups with a strong ethnic identity treat outsiders. Speaking someone’s heart language makes a huge difference so our team set out to learn it.
Second, in South Asia, the easiest way to define a people group might be by intermarriage: If families normally marry in and out of that group, it is not a distinct people group. In our region, there is a distinct distain for outsiders largely coinciding with language. In addition, a given language is divided into Muslim and Hindu groupings, and there is virtually no intermarriage between them. There are also lesser barriers between the extremely wealthy, the very poor, and middle class. The few Christians in the area largely are not even originally from this region, nor from Muslim backgrounds.
When I think of the “great multitude” before the Throne from “every ethnos” (Rev 7:9), I see a gap; an empty place for millions from our previously unengaged, but still unreached Muslim people group. As yet we are nowhere near the full number, so there is lots of space for more.
South Asia – Rohingya
“Harry Wilson”
For decades the Rohingya have faced tensions and discrimination at the hands of the Burmese government. In 1982, the Burmese government issued a new citizenship law that recognized 135 “indigenous ethnic groups,” but defined citizenship in a way that excluded the Rohingya. For the past forty years, the oppression in Myanmar has led to a steady stream of Rohingya fleeing their homeland. The downward spiral of discrimination and violence culminated in brutal military campaigns; the worst of which in 2017 triggered the exodus of about one million people to neighboring Bangladesh.
What does it mean to be Rohingya? In reality, the definition of Rohingya ethnicity differs widely. Some people define it along religious lines, saying every Rohingya is Muslim. Others consider language the decisive factor, i.e. everyone who speaks the same language is Rohingya, whether Muslim, Buddhist or Christian. Still others define it according to region of origin, i.e. Northern Arakan. The ethnic identity markers are contested.
God first stirred our heart for the Rohingya through the entry in Operation World around 1990. When we moved to Myanmar in 1997, we discovered quickly a more complex ethnicity situation than was listed or that we imagined. Numbers, definitions, names and boundaries appear very debatable.
Today Rohingya are spread over more than twenty countries; only 20% of the overall population remain in Myanmar. The diaspora situation over two generations has drastically diversified the identity of the people group. Now we are working in Bangladesh among the refugees which brings additional challenges. While it was easy to differentiate the Rohingya from other groups in Myanmar, in Bangladesh they blend into the host community much more in terms of language, features and religion.
Our approach towards disciple making has evolved according to the context of our ministry and changing dynamics overall. Locally, we are praying and working towards Discovery Bible Study (DBS) groups within the camp, apart from the local host community. At the same time, we are actively involved in an international network which helps coordinate the work among Rohingya worldwide. So we are indirectly helping work among them in many contexts. The unifying factor is work among Rohingya wherever they are found.
India
“Andrew Tolliver”
In my early years in India, we had discovered E. Stanley Jones’ contextualized approach called the “Satsang” or “fellowship of truth.” This is a Hindu cultural tradition of people sitting together to discuss spiritual truth. We started to hold these in our region. I am a professional and quickly became aware that many less educated people in the region did not speak the national language (Hindi), which I had spent years learning. They spoke Bundelkhandi, a non-written language with different grammar and some different vocabulary. I had begun to learn it to manage to talk to some of my clients.
The Satsangs that we held were well attended, mostly because there was nothing else to do! Generally, the children made a lot of noise, and the people did not pay much attention to what was being said. In one village we had a good relationship because our healthcare team went there weekly, so they were open to having a Satsang there. Same story: noisy children and no one paying attention. We happened to have invited a man from a neighboring city to lead it. He was speaking to the people in nice Hindi, as we did in all of the Satsangs to that point. For a moment, however, he mistakenly slipped into his mother tongue Bundelkhandi. That changed everything! The crowd of people told the children to stop throwing dirt and shut up. They threatened to beat them if they did not. They told the speaker to stop speaking Hindi and to speak to them in Bundelkhandi. He did, and the conversation really took off. They even took over our harmonium and sang some of their songs. It became a real fellowship of truth just because we presented it in their heart language. Needless to say, we never did it in Hindi again.
India – Delhi
“Ed Alansky”
The “people group” we work with is really a religious-linguistic group – Urdu-speaking Muslims in the Delhi area. We have not felt that we have the luxury of singling out people groups based on other traditional methods of identifying people groups in India (such as caste). This is because most of the Urdu speakers in Delhi are first- or second-generation immigrants to the area, and so all the Urdu-speaking Muslim people groups tend to live on top of each other, while their kinship and ethnic ties tend to be to other parts of India – especially villages. Though they share a language and religion, neighbors will often not interact much or know each other well.
People will rarely bring us into their networks of relationships because the people they trust do not live locally. On the other hand, from our perspective, since Muslims are a minority – even in many “Muslim” neighborhoods – we cannot afford to be too choosey about those with whom we relate.
There are clearly significant cultural differences and a strong sense of identity within and between the groups. For example, one time some Urdu-speaking Muslim men who work at the same company began discussing the differences in how their respective castes relate to their relatives. I was surprised to learn that not only did they have very different norms for relating, but that each man was largely unaware of the practices of the other group.
Has urbanization affected the way people relate to each other and see their identity? Definitely, but the traditional people group “core” still seems to be the dominant reality. Marriages, for example, are still overwhelmingly conducted within caste. I have yet to observe the Gospel moving between people groups via other affinities, such as shared interests. In my limited experience, there is little trust within non-kinship affinity groups. People rarely know each other well and are unwilling to be vulnerable in such groups. Generally, in India occupations are tied up tightly with caste, and therefore do not represent an alternative to people-groups.
In reaction to this situation, we find ourselves forced to work almost exclusively with individual nuclear and extended families within various Urdu-speaking people groups. Admittedly, this feels less effective than focusing on a specific group, were that an option. Because we have yet to see the Gospel move beyond families that live together, it remains an open question as to what degree that movement will occur within traditional people groups versus other affinity groups.
Based on my experience, I would say that urbanization has increased the challenge of starting movements by isolating individuals and nuclear family units from their wider relationships of trust without replacing those relationships with new relationships of trust. Surrounded by more people than ever, people seem to be increasingly alone.
Therefore, it seems plausible that despite our best efforts to adapt and capitalize, urbanization represents, for the present, a net challenge to mission movements regardless of our paradigm of “people group” or identity. Even as we seek to adapt in the face of new challenges, we need to be careful not to hastily blame “people group” paradigms when the challenge might really be social fragmentation itself. Phenomena such as multiple-identities, multi-ethnic churches, and urban networks are, in my view, symptoms of that fragmentation, rather than promising alternatives to people-groups.
We have been pursuing social media outreach for less than a year. So far, we have seen no confirmed success, but believe we have much to learn and that there is much sowing potential in social media. One advantage of social media, in this age of urbanization, is that it allows us to sow across extensive rural areas. Social media may allow us to have the advantage of reaching large populations like those present in cities while avoiding the problem of urban social fragmentation.
Pakistan
“BM”
Over the past ten years in Pakistan, we have been hoping, praying, and pleading with people to come and help us. Sadly, some potential workers who come with fixed “people group” thinking leave disappointed by realities on the ground. Here are a few of the lessons we have learned.
First, the way outsiders define people groups doesn’t always match how local people define themselves. Locals have expressed dislike for our focus on specific ethnic groups. For example, I have met many urbanites, especially so-called “Mohajirs” (Urdu-speaking migrants who settled after the 1947 partition of British India), who define themselves as “Karachiites” or even just “Pakistanis.” This is especially true for the younger (second or third) generation, who were born and raised in Karachi. At times, people are very reluctant to share with me what their “people group” is. They still have pride in their ancestry and family traditions, but it is not such an important factor.
In 2011–2013, when ethnic violence and religiously motivated target killings in Karachi were at a height, I met many Karachiites who downplayed their ethnic background. They wanted to focus instead on unity, not differences, of the commonality of all being Pakistanis (or Karachiites).
Second, we need to embrace multilingualism. Traditionally, it has been said you can best reach people if you learn their heart language. Use of other languages was discouraged. Among urban populations, this is no longer true. I know several Pashto and Hindko families. Though their parents and older relatives speak it in the home, the younger generation born and raised in Karachi have minimal comprehension and do not speak either language. Among their own age group (e.g. siblings, cousins) they speak Urdu. Culturally they consider themselves Pashtun, but Urdu is their mother tongue and language of literacy.
An Afghan Hazara friend in her mid-20s speaks Hazargi or Farsi in her home with the family. Her closest friends, however, are from Hunza, Gilgit and Skardu in northern Pakistan. When I visited her home, there were six different language/people groups represented! Most of the time we used Urdu as the common language, occasionally switching into English (used in schools and workplaces). Throughout the evening they switched back and forth between five different languages! Despite their different backgrounds, they appreciated the fact that they could all sit together and be friends. Note: They are all Agha Khani (Ismaili) Muslims, a sect of Shia Islam. This was the defining, common factor, not the language or ethnic background.
Third, over the years I have met a significant number of families who are “mixed” and consider themselves a part of various groups. This mixing through marriage and/or living in close proximity suggests the need for a multi-people group approach. At a recent wedding, I was told that part of the family is Pashtun, part is Punjabi, and part is Mohajir – all through marriage. When asked what people group they considered themselves to be part of, they said all of them. Being part of the same family, rather than identifying with the same people group, seemed more important. Several families I know from the northwest provincial capital of Peshawar (pop. 2 million) are mixed Hindko and Pashtun, and speak both languages fluently. In the city of Quetta in Baluchistan, I have several friends where Hazara and Pashtun are married. In Karachi (population of sixteen million), several of my Pashtun friends live in communities that are quite mixed, with a high proportion speaking Balochi and Pashto. A Pashto cleaning lady, with little education spends most of her time with her Balochi neighbours; her Pashtun relatives are married to Balochi.
In all these cases, they have lived together in the same neighbourhoods for decades. All of them originally come from villages very far away; they have a chance to visit their “home” town maybe once or twice in ten years. They all consider Karachi to be more their home, than their original “village.” Their deep relational bonds are the most important factor for them.
Eurasia
“Dan Nilsen”
Our area is home to at least thirty-four distinct ethnic groups – up to fifty, if you include linguistic sub-groups – in an overall population of about three million. So we’ve done a lot of thinking and “rethinking” about people groups!
When I arrived on the field twenty-five years ago, our team did not have a specific UPG focus. That made sense given the ethnic mix in our growing city of over a million residents. About 40% of the country still lives in rural villages and towns.
One of the requirements for launching a new team was to target a particular UPG, so I chose a UPG with few workers whose homeland was in the south. However, I realized there were other factors to consider besides the UPG’s “reachedness.” First of all, I had to deal with gaining residency and having a viable role. Both of these required an urban platform and fluency in the trade language. Further, in the multi-ethnic world of our city, where relatively few members of that UPG lived, it was clearly unrealistic to focus exclusively on them. Prioritizing fluency in the trade language would not only allow us to communicate with all people groups, but also have implications for the home fellowships we believed would emerge.
A survey by local social scientists revealed that people of this republic have a hybrid and multiple identity. Some of the ethnic groups identify primarily by ethnicity and language. Others place national or district identity first, then their ethnic group. Within the republic, ethnicities compete for access to governmental posts to improve their clan’s financial interests and increase its political clout. Outside the country, in another cosmopolitan city or wherever they are a minority, they stick together – whatever their ethnicity – as citizens of their republic.
In an ethnically diverse place like our republic, we should allow the UPG focus to be taken up after the preliminary steps are accomplished. These include fluency in the bridge language which facilitates a broad range of friendships, a credible vocation, and spiritual conversations.
Disciples, too, must learn the kingdom value of passing on truths with others, whether they are of the same people group or not. It would not make much sense to push language homogeneity in house fellowships unless the members were all of one ethnic clan. This could occur in urban settings but is likely to be futile. The younger generation growing up in the city often have parents of mixed ethnicity and do not know their parent’s heart language well enough. Moreover, even if both parents are of one people group, they tend to use the trade language in the home and do not pass on their heart tongue to the children.
Thus, Bible studies or house fellowships envisioned would include a mix of common and mother tongue language use and rely on scriptures in both languages. Even in rural communities, people prefer to read in the trade language and listen to audio scriptures in their heart language. Invitations to more ethnically homogeneous rural communities would be a next step. So, in an ethnically diverse region like ours, engaging and catalyzing disciple making movements among UPGs is a multi-language, multi-year, multi-stage process.
Eurasia
“Will Kershon”
When we arrived in the Republic of “Alpania,” I had the multicolored map of neatly numbered blobs emblazoned on my mind (and soon taped to my wall). The over thirty-six peoples of Alpania were cleanly organized as distinct language groups and clustered in their own mountain valleys. Extensive research and surveying undergirded the colorful blobs. They remain a critical organizing tool for educating outsiders and mobilizing prayer. We hoped God might lead us to the smallest groups in the highest mountains.
But how useful would the map be in our ministry on the ground? In the capital city where we live, language and ethnic divisions blur and sometimes go into hiding. In the first place, everyone speaks the dominant “language of wider communication” (LWC). It is the language of government and business. Yet relational networks of the largest language groups, e.g. workers in the bazaar or shop owners on a street, may speak a local language when together. I found at one gas station a cluster of men aged 20 to 70 working – all from a language group numbering in total fewer than seven thousand. Even though they don’t all speak their own language, something kept them bound together.
Thus links to the mountains remain strong. Networks of ethnicity, language, and kinship act as conduits of social capital. Yet for the socially ascendant, a mountain identity may register zero or even negative. In the big city the LWC gets the job done. Everyone I have met identifies with an ancestral village, but some have never even been there. In the city, marriages are often mixed between ethnicities; it is unclear to me how families choose which lineage determines primary identity, or if a primary identity even exists.
The following anecdote illustrates these dynamics. A would-be tour guide invited a mixed group of locals and foreigners to his village for the weekend. When I received my invite, my eyes shone: the destination was a remote mountain region home to the “Akhush,” an unengaged Muslim sub-group of a large language bloc we’ll call “Ukhmar.” It’s confusing: Some speakers consider Akhush a unique language; others lump it with the Ukhmar. Linguists have shown it as distinct – thus the blob on my map. But what do locals say?
As we approached his home perched atop a precipitous mountain slope, our host’s prattle glittered with pride for everything from towers to trees to the tarmac we were driving on. Deep in the valley nearly a stone’s throw away lay the village Akhush. So I asked our host about the village and the language. My questions failed to register. He called it all by the larger group name.
That evening to my delight musicians came to play, and I asked if they knew any specifically Akhush songs. I was met with blank stares. The only thing my host said about that village was that it once was the regional capital. Now it has a population of fifty.
What I came to learn over the course of the weekend was instead of how proud he and his family were of their region – a federal geographical division not based on ethnicity or language. The republic’s former president had hailed from that region and had brought it much honor. He brought in paved roads and rebuilt old towers. He even built a volleyball court on the cusp of a thousand-foot drop in our host’s village. A hand-woven carpet picturing this man seated at his desk and surrounded by telephones hung on our host’s wall. Such was their sense of pride.
Thus, the ethno-linguistic division attested by the data made little apparent difference for the locals I met. The town bearing the dialect’s name was a passing thought and mere blip on the road. Instead, they identified with the honor and wealth of the region. Could it be that this draws direct lines between them “in the sticks” and the power centers of the capital? Most notably to me, the musicians played no local songs.
If I were to draw a preliminary hypothesis, I would hazard that the locals’ strongest sense of group connectivity is regional, not centered on a sub-language. This may not be true of other groups whose languages are their primary markers. But here, even with a distinct language, the regional identity is foregrounded over the sub-language.
What does this mean for gospel communicators? It may signal that already developed language products (Bibles, disciple making tools, video, audio recordings) – and witness, from a larger language group can connect with sub-groups and thus have an expanded reach. The risk is that those who are mono-lingual could be further marginalized. Workers are still needed among them. We will probably have to figure it out on the ground through relationship. My take-away is that “the research is made for man, not man for the research.” That is, let’s do all the research we can, but be ready to flow with what the locals tell us is important to them.
Middle East – Refugees
“Scott Pearson”
I am a worker in the Middle East who has hung in there for between twenty-five and thirty years. We work in a small city that has undergone radical changes over the last ten years. The population has more than doubled due to the influx of refugees. Perhaps 85% of these refugees are from three large cities in a neighboring country. The vast majority are lower middle-class people with working/trade backgrounds (e.g. construction workers, drivers, government clerks). Most have only a sixth grade education and can only barely read and write.
Many are only nominally Muslim. I sometimes will start to talk about a prophet and they’ll say, “Moses who?” Most fast and pray on Fridays; they may observe a couple prayer times during the day, but not all five.
We have focused on the refugee people group around us. I also share a lot with local nationals, although we have seen less fruit there. Due to urbanization, war, and people seeking refuge, there has been a lot of inter-group mixing. That said, marriages are arranged in the traditional way, preferably with a cousin or second cousin, someone from their city of origin, or at least a Sunni Muslim. I know five to seven families where a local man married a woman from the refugee community, but all but one of these women were from an area closest to this country.
While some Muslim background believers have joined local churches, I try to encourage believers to share with others in their networks. We think that groups made up of like-minded, similar-culture, similar-education, similar-age people will stick together better.
How have my views changed? Most of the last nine years I’ve been in the context described above, focused on one people group. The previous seven years I lived in a larger, more cosmopolitan city in a neighboring country. There our friendship networks spanned Muslims from a variety of backgrounds, both Sunni and Shi’ite. I have been more fruitful in this setting, in part because our current city is smaller, and also because we are more focused on one group.
Horn of Africa – Somali
“Stefan Harth”
When God called me to serve the Somali people, I had no idea how complicated that could be. On peoplegroups.org, the Somali people are divided into fifteen different “people groups,” eight of which are considered unengaged. The Joshua Project listed even more “people groups” for a total of twenty-four, with fourteen designated “frontier peoples.” Yet when I ask my Somali friends, they assure me that they are all one!
How did we end up with fifteen to twenty-four different Somali “people groups”? Simple: The logic of our current people group model dictates that we differentiate people by country. In other words, the Somali of Ethiopia are a different people group than the Somali of Kenya, just because they live in a different country. Of course there are good reasons to develop separate engagement strategies for different countries, but does that mean we have to sub-divide the people with whom we are engaging, as well?
In the 1980s, significant Somali communities lived in 5 different countries: Somalia, Kenya, Ethiopia, Djibouti, and Yemen. Since the civil war in the 1990s, Somali refugees have spread all over the world, apparently creating new “people groups” whenever they cross a border. Today, Somalis communities can be found in many countries, way more than the fifteen or twenty-four listed by the above-mentioned databases. To make matters worse, these communities are not stable, but keep moving around! In the urban center where I live, I can meet Somalis from Somalia, Kenya, Ethiopia, the USA, Australia, and Europe on any given day! Does that mean I’m effectively engaging half a dozen unengaged people groups? Or do they all become “Somalis in Kenya” once they leave the airplane?
Most Somalis belong to one of the many clans that make up Somali society. And most clans have dedicated online groups and forums to mobilize people in times of crisis. These online groups connect clan members across dozens of countries, enabling rapid flow of information and resources across the world. Instead of dividing the Somali people by country of residence, maybe we should divide them into transnational clans?
Basically, we need to think of alternatives to the spatially bounded people groups. Many Somali clans have been transnational for a long time, spanning several different countries within the Horn of Africa, connected through social and relational networks beyond borders and across the world. If we define UPGs mainly based on social pathways that allow for the flow of the gospel, then it makes more sense to focus on social networks across countries, rather than a composite network made up of a people group in one country.
Horn of Africa – Somali Bantu
“Andreas Wagner”
“Why is it that the Somali Bantu refugees I’m talking to are not receiving any help from your NGO?” I was talking to a social worker of a local refugee aid organization. She used the same explanation I had heard from others: “We are advertising our services through the refugee leaders. If the Somali Bantus are not organized, if they don’t have a leader, then they might not know about us.” This saved NGO resources, and allowed for more community ownership.
Note that the categorization of local “tribal” groups, formerly in the hands of the colonial powers, is now perpetuated by aid organizations! In both cases, the allocation of resources and services is contingent on clearly defined social groups among the beneficiaries. Also, in both cases, people who don’t “fit” into the social categories used by those in power are disadvantaged. People without clear community structures don’t have access.
The Somali Bantu are a very interesting example of these power dynamics. Up until the early 1990s, they simply did not exist as an ethnic group. The people who now make up the “Somali Bantu” formed small communities scattered across southern Somalia. Some were integrated into Somali clans (usually facing discrimination as second-class members), while others formed their own distinct groups. They did not have a common origin, or a common language. The only thing these people had in common was the racial status forced upon them by Somali society. As members of these racial minorities fled Somalia in the early years of the civil war, UN officials and other aid workers noticed the similarities in their situation and started calling them “Somali Bantu.” As a label, it signified vulnerability and oppression, but it was also the only non-derogatory name available for these people, and so it stuck.
Today, there are between 700,000 and 1.5 million Somali Bantu, even though the term itself is contested within the community. They do not fit into the Somali clan system, and the different groupings speak their own distinct dialect of one of the Somali minority languages. The awareness of a common status in Somalia, the shared experience of flight and resettlement, and the pragmatic need to “fit” in a category in order to access resources have created a new ethnic group.
The Somali Bantu have been the focus of a number of academic studies, and the construction of their ethnicity has been marveled at by social scientists. But even these studies portray the Somali Bantus as a unique and clearly defined group – which they are not. Interacting with different members of the Somali Bantu community, I have come to observe social, cultural, and linguistic differences within the community. Clearly, being Somali Bantu comes on a spectrum, with a clear core and a fuzzy periphery. (In my interviews with members from different social categories, they all agree that they are one larger community, and claim to intermarry, while acknowledging internal differences and differing degrees of acceptance of the “Somali Bantu” label.)
The people group list for Somalia is based primarily on linguistic criteria and a secular linguistic study from the 1980s. Consequently, when we arrived on the field, we based our original vision and strategy on linguistic criteria, assuming this would be the most important barrier to the gospel within southern Somalia. But my research in the following years revealed that many social and even family networks cross these linguistic lines. I would now argue that the most significant barrier in Somalia is racial, not linguistic.
While churches and groups in the US are ministering to their diaspora Somali Bantu neighbors (over fifty thousand), the international mission agencies seem largely oblivious to all these developments. The data on southern Somalia that informed the Registry of Peoples was collected in in the 1980s, before the creation of the Somali Bantu ethnicity. Since then, there have been very few attempts by mission agencies to engage Somali Bantus, partly because this group is hard to identify and access, partly because they don’t show up in certain databases. (The Somali Bantu are listed on www.JoshuaProject.com, but not on the IMB’s www.peoplegroups.org used by many mission organizations.)
The social worker I mentioned at the beginning of this case study had a simple solution: “They need to organize themselves. They need to appoint leaders and approach us.” Within our current paradigm, she is right. People like the Somali Bantu will be systematically overlooked unless they can be fit into a neat “people group” category.
What does this mean for church? As long as you are considered ethnic Somali, you can find your place within the Somali church. But Somali Bantus are not accepted as equals even among believers, and they generally don’t fellowship together. Because of this, we see the greatest need for a separate ministry effort within the Somali context among the Somali Bantu. Apparently, nobody will pray for them, recruit workers to send to them, or develop a strategy to serve them, unless we have given them a label and added some nice numbers.
Turkey
“KM”
After decades of living in Turkish society, we have come to the realization that family or community is the basic core group and the lowest common denominator for disciple making movements. If our thinking is to be transformational, we must look beyond individuals, to the larger family.
Rapid urbanization is a reality of our world in Turkey. When we arrived, the population was 60% rural, 40% urban. Now those numbers are reversed. However, just moving locations does not change the culture of a rural person. The underlying values are still there, now carried into an urban setting. If you scratch a little, you will see there is something else beneath the veneer of modernism. Looks can be deceiving, so a cross cultural worker must be adept at perceiving differences in group identity.
For us identifying a “people group” in the larger sense is merely a place to start. The idea of “groupness” must be refined down to the level of a specific community or larger-extended family network. The beliefs, values and practices of that “mini-people group” will determine how they themselves create boundaries for an independent identity. Their own self-determination of “groupness” must be understood and honored for a gospel movement to take root.
Southeast Asia
“LAM”
The “Bridge” people are originally from an island near Java. Today only half of the people group live on the island; the rest have emmigrated to other parts of Indonesia and abroad. They tend to be very religious and proud of their ethnic identity.
We work in a major city where the Bridge people make up about 10% of the population. Since our people group is a minority here, we have chosen to have more of a city focus, so are willing to find and follow up “people of peace” from other UPGs. I still go out of my way to make sure I am with members of this community about 60% of my outreach time. Those I am interacting with are tightly knit with their own people and have only a few close friendships with Javanese or other peoples.
I believe that the classic people group approach is the most appropriate approach to reach the Bridge people here. However, since our context is urban, we have more of a “drag net” approach. We are willing to reach all ethnic people groups (using the DMM model), depending on how the person of peace defines their oikos (household/network). We encourage the person of peace to open their oikos to everyone, but to define it in a way that includes their own people. The missing step for teams engaging the Bridge people is that they aren’t going deep in their vernacular language and culture.
Transnational – Deobandi Movement
“Louise C. Wood”
As we rethink people groups, we need to recognize that there are other important groupings and identities that go beyond location or ethnicity. One example is the transnational Deobandi movement within Islam, with whom I have had contact both in South Asia and Europe.
The Deobandi madrassa movement began in 1866 in north India, and spread rapidly by encouraging graduates to start new madrassas and teach local communities the Deobandi brand of Sunni Islam. Deobandi Islam emphasizes a “back to basics” version of Islam that models Mohammad in everything, including wearing the style of clothes Mohammad wore, and cleaning teeth with a twig as Mohammad did. Deobandis are very cautious of “innovations” or adopting common practices of the wider society (such as watching TV or listening to music), preferring to stay unnoticed and distinct.
What distinguishes Deobandis is their capacity to maintain a distinct identity and this very traditional version of Islam within a larger non-Muslim society. They began in India where Muslims are a minority among a majority Hindu society, and as they establish new mosques and madrassas in the west, they teach others how to maintain Muslim practice in that context. They consider themselves less a distinct movement than as the genuine Muslims among the less pure Islamic community; a Deobandi Muslim would not feel comfortable visiting a non-Deobandi mosque.
The Deobandi movement is distinguished by a standard curriculum in all locations, covered by every leader during their training, although each madrasa may apply the teaching to their specific location. For example, some offer comprehensive lists of acceptable foods among the local cuisine, moon sightings (e.g. for feast days), or how to respond to local holidays. They may teach in the local language rather than the traditional Urdu or Arabic. Just as significantly, a book for women (Heavenly Ornaments) has rules and guidance for family life. Deobandi women are often given this book at their wedding, and throughout their lives will study it deeply. This foundation of religious teaching and common understanding of home and family life as well produces a shared Deobandi identity and view of life.
Deobandi madrasas have advanced what has been called “a revival from below.” This “bottom up reform” is largely invisible compared to the top down reforms propagated by the Islamist political groups. There are currently about 100,000 Deobandi madrasas (religious schools) on at least four continents. These madrasas not only train new mosques leaders, but also function as places of spiritual guidance, education, and identity for the local Muslim community.
A significant number of the Sunni population of Pakistan, India, Bangladesh, Afghanistan and Iran identify with Deobandi Islam. Beyond South Asia the movement is growing among Muslim minority populations, particularly in South Africa, UK, Canada, USA, and Trinidad and Tobago. Historically this was associated with the South Asian diaspora. However, current students may identify more with the host (diaspora) country where they were born, than the country their grandparents emigrated from, and new adherents may not have a South Asian background at all.
Globally, Deobandi madrassas are both connected and independent. In some countries they are affiliated with political or extremist groups, but in most locations, they do not engage with wider society except to invite new members to join. They are not the majority in any one country or people group, and often stay unseen from the outside. It is difficult to get a clear number for each country due to the lack of research; in India it is estimated to be about forty million, and in Pakistan a similar number.
What will it take to reach such a group? Approaches must be rooted in local communities while finding ways to influence a highly connected transnational network. The Deobandi represent an identifiable “people group” that transcends boundaries and countries and provides a sense of group identity not based on ethnolinguistic criteria.
EMQ, Volume 56, Issue 4. Copyright © 2020 by Missio Nexus. All rights reserved. Not to be reproduced or copied in any form without written permission from Missio Nexus. Email: EMQ@MissioNexus.org.
