Amid Islamophobia, How Kerala's Institutions Are Fostering Peaceful Conversions

In the ancient harbour town of Ponnani, Maunathul Islam Sabha, the first-ever Islamic educational centre in Kerala—popularly known for conversion—that was established in 1900, is a place of tranquillity amidst all the fury around the conversion debates in the country. Maunathul Islam Sabha welcomes those who want to convert to Islam and gives two month’s accommodation and facilitates conversion. Notably, this is neither a covert operation nor an illicit endeavour; rather, it operates with transparency and is subject to oversight by the police, revenue officials, the panchayat and local political bodies. The architectural fusion of antiquity and modernity, nestled in the heart of the town, exudes an aura devoid of apprehension. The entry process is devoid of cumbersome approvals, with no deployment of security personnel. At the Maunathul Islam Sabha, every individual, regardless of their faith, is welcomed.

Maunathul Islam Sabha in Ponnani, Malappuram District, and Therbiyathul Islam Sabha in Kozhikode—established in 1936—hold the exclusive distinction of being the only two licensed conversion centres in Kerala. Here, individuals embark on a transformative journey, staying for a span of a couple of months to grasp the essential tenets of Islam and subsequently embrace the faith. Governed by the Kerala State Wakf Board, these institutions garnered official recognition from the government, with Maunathul Islam Sabha’s formal registration taking place on January 1, 1908, in alignment with the provisions of Section 26 of the Indian Companies Act, 1882.

“We have a complete record of the people coming here. We send monthly reports to the local police, district police chief and the state and central intelligence authorities. The sabha is managed by the Wakf Board and has been subjected to annual auditing by the state government like any other public institution,” says Muhammad Salim, the superintendent of Maunathul Islam Sabha, which is managed by a 120-member committee.

Around 300-400 people come here annually with an intention to convert. According to the office bearers of the sabha, most of the youngsters come for conversion with a purpose to get married. The ancient building has lodging facility for men and women separately. When Outlook met Ayisha Sherin, a 24-year-old MBA graduate from Thiruvananthapuram at the hostel for women, she was preparing for namaz in the evening. Ayisha, whose former name was Anita Nair, says she decided to convert to get married to a Muslim, and ever since she started learning about Islam, she claims to have got attracted to it. “Though the idea of conversion was related to marriage, I fell in love with Islam after I started learning,” says Ayisha. Her parents apparently went against her idea of conversion, but as they knew that she had been there at the sabha, they did not pursue any legal action. “We do not face any legal hurdles because the police always have the information about every person coming here,” says Abdul Samad, the secretary of Maunathul Islam Sabha. “Are you not worried of allegations of love jihad?” Ayisha smiles: “There is only love, no jihad,” she says.

Maunathul Islam Sabha has certain procedures that have to be strictly followed. “We take an undertaking from every inmate in a stamp paper that their decision is completely voluntary and there is no compulsion from anyone. Besides, we let anyone who comes to visit an inmate if they also are willing to meet,” says Samad.

Maunathul Islam Sabha insists that they do not encourage inmates to break the ties with their parents. “Converting to Islam is their choice, but it does not let them break away from their family. Loving and protecting one’s parents is one of the core principles of Islam; no matter what religion they belong to,” says Salim.

Iqbal, the senior clerk at the sabha, unlatched a wooden shelf, extracting a stack of age-old books coated in a thick layer of dust. Nestled within the shadows of time, rests ancient notebooks. Half of them contain the lists of people who came to the institution for conversion since 1900. The name, address, name of parents and the new name after conversion are recorded in the books. These books stand as exemplars of transparency in the operations of the institution. Each page within them holds a narrative of accountability and openness, revealing a meticulous record of every action, decision, and transaction undertaken by the institution.

Kerala stands as one of India’s earliest Islamic frontiers, where Arabs and other Muslims hailing from West Asia found their home and flourished, aided by both rulers and the general populace. Starting in AD 643, the mission of Malik Dinar ushered in widespread conversions to Islam, predominantly along the coastal regions, and eventually, by the end of the 9th century AD, extending into the interior areas. These Islamic scholars from Arab lands established religious institutions with the aim to impart Islamic education to the indigenous population.

Ponnani, the ancient harbour town, held a unique distinction as the site of the pioneering seminary of its kind. It was established by the Makhdoom family who are believed to have come from Yemen. According to E Ismail, historian and former professor at Kannur University, the Makhdooms, known as Thangals in Kerala, traced their ancestry to the Prophet and primarily solidified their presence in Ponnani during the later medieval period. Proficient in Islamic law, they assumed leadership roles among the traditional ulemas, guiding the community with their expertise.

According to historians, the large-scale conversions happened centuries ago due to the existence of the caste system in which massive discriminations were in practice. It is pertinent to note that there is a declining trend in the number of people coming for conversions today. The office bearers of Maunathul Islam Sabha vouch that the numbers are only coming down. The majority of the inmates in Maunathul Islam Sabha are non-Keralites. “We do not admit people from states where conversion is banned by the rule of law,” says Samad. This policy was adopted to minimise friction in society, according to the office bearers of the sabha.

There are multiple reasons for people opting for conversion. Kolanchi, a 45-year-old domestic worker and her husband, Ilanko, hailing from Cuddalore district in Tamil Nadu, decided to convert to fulfil an offering she made when Ilanko met with an accident. “He was badly injured and was bedridden. We offered a prayer at the Mampuram mosque that we would convert to Islam when he recovers,” says Kolanchi who changed her name as Sajida. Kolanchi says that their sons and daughters have accepted their decision to convert.

As it is generally perceived, Maunathul Islam Sabha does not provide a certificate of conversion, explains Samad. “What we provide is only a discharge certificate. The official certificate for the change of religion has to be issued by the revenue authorities,” he explains. The conversion happens within the 60-day course in the sabha and people go out with a discharge certificate. While producing this certificate along with an application in the prescribed format, the village officer sends a report to the revenue official who is the authority to provide a certificate for a change of religion. “They need this certificate to make changes in all their documents. They have to follow the procedures as publishing in the gazette, etc,” says Shaji, a former revenue official of Ponnani. According to him, this is a procedure as simple and transparent as a name change. “I don’t recollect a single incident of conflict regarding conversion during my service,” says Shaji.

Do the local BJP or RSS units have a complaint? Outlook looked into that too. K Ganeshan, the president of the local unit of the BJP, says they do not. Ganeshan says that he had intervened in not less than 40 cases of conversions that happened in the Maunathul Islam Sabha. “The parents often come to us with complaints of girls eloping with Muslim boyfriends and reaching the Maunathul Islam Sabha. When we go there, we are allowed to meet the girls and talk to them. There are cases in which we could bring the girls back, but most of them stick to their decision and stay back. As they are adults, we cannot do anything against their will. If the girls change their mind and are willing to come with us, the authorities of sabha also agree and they do not create any problem,” says Ganeshan.

He also agrees that the Maunathul Islam Sabha is transparent in its activities. “When we go to meet the girls, they provide translators for people coming from other states. I had a few experiences of going there with cops from Bengaluru,” says Ganeshan. He explains the reason for the peace and tranquillity around this institution. “They are not like the Popular Front of India (PFI) or Sathya Sarani. Here, there is transparency,” he says. Sathya Sarani was an unlicensed conversion centre run by the PFI which was recently sealed by the NIA.

P K Kalimudeen, a native of Ponnani, a lawyer and a CPI(M) activist who is not keen on religion in his personal life, has a high regard for Maunathul Islam Sabha. “Whether we need religion at all is a different debate, but what makes Maunathul Islam Sabha unique is the democratic principles they follow and the high level of transparency they uphold,” he says.

Therbiyathul Islam Sabha in Kozhikode also follows the same set of principles and procedures. They also function under the scrutiny of the local police and revenue authorities and are subjected to annual auditing by the state government. These two institutions have never caused any controversy regarding ‘forced conversion’ or ‘love Jihad’ as it often happens with other organisations, as the PFI, which has been banned by the Union Government. Hadiya, the Kerala girl who shook the nation in 2017 when she converted to Islam and subsequent marriage, had the help of the PFI even though PFI does not have a licensed conversion centre.

In a world marred by Islamophobia, these two institutions emerge as islands of serenity, fostering peaceful conversions that generate minimal tension. Amidst the currents of misunderstanding, they stand as beacons of understanding and acceptance, promoting harmonious coexistence.

(This appeared in the print as 'Tranquil Change')

Shahina K K in Ponnani, Malappuram, Kerala