Mallam Abu Gantur's Uprising

 

 A map showing the area from Gajiram to Dikwa in Borno on Google. The revolt began near Gajiram and was defeated before reaching Dikwa in 1894. 

Another moment in which the peasantry of Borno were politically active and engaged in rebellion was the movement led by a charismatic mallam named Abu Gantur. Written sources and oral traditions are contradictory about specific details of the leader and the movement, but it represents a moment of peasant or talaka rebellion. Although rather distinct from the 1820s uprising of the Manga against al-Kanemi, it nonetheless demonstrates one of the extreme manifestations of subaltern groups contesting the political order in Borno. In this case, as a movement to free Borno from the rule of Sudanese warlord Rabih. However, like the Manga revolt, a charismatic religious figure provided the leadership for it, with religion (and superstition, depending on how one interprets the sources) and possibly millenarian beliefs shaping its discourse and actions. Let's take a closer look at the revolt to see how it both follows and diverges from the Manga rebels.

As always, we must begin with a discussion of the sources. Kyari Mohammed, whose Borno in the Rabih years, 1893-1901: The Rise and Crash of a Predatory State presents a fine analysis based on oral tradition and archival sources, perhaps offers the most comprehensive account of Abu Gantur's movement. Also, H.R. Palmer's Gazetteer of Bornu Province mentions Abu Gantur by another name, Mallam Buki, without any real analysis (Palmer 24). As for W.K.R. Hallam, whose The Life and Times of Rabih is detailed, reports some of the same traditions as Mohammed. However, he differs from Mohammed by asserting a Gombe origin for Abu Gantur (Hallam 145). Decorse and Gaudefroy-Demombynes translated an Arabic source in Rabah et les Arabes du Chari: documents Arabes et vocabulaire that mention a battle between Rabih with "Abou Qantour west of Dikwa (Decorse & Gaudefroy-Demombynes 13). Another source, Captain Julien's "Mohamed-es-Senoussi et ses États, likewise reports on Abu Gantur. Unlike the others, he suggests Gantour was based in or from Maiduguri. He was also said to have rejected the "Mahdi of the Turks" behind Rabih (Julien 132). The last source we could locate online was in an article from L'Afrique française: bulletin mensuel du Comité de l'Afrique française. According to this 1918 article, Gantur led a rabble of followers from Maiduguri against Rabih, but was defeated at N'Gomati. This article, published several years after the event, is of even less utility, but emphasizes the humble roots of Gantur's supporters. In addition to his work on the Rabih period, Louis Brenner's study of the al-Kanemi dynasty in the 19th century provides a number of interesting details on the crises of incompetent leadership, economic decline, and excessive taxation which made the peasantry of Borno less likely to support the al-Kanemi rulers. Overall, Mohammed's study, informed by archival research and fieldwork in Borno, likely presents the most reliable account of Abu Gantur.

Next, a short review of the movement. According to Mohammed, Abu Gantur was a Koyam Mallam sometimes called Mallam Buki or Mallam Njimtilo. His revolt began from the Nganzai area after Rabih's successful defeat of the Shehu of Borno (Mohammed 53). That he was also remembered as a Koyam Mallam is significant, since the Koyam were linked to Kalumbardo. Although the later incarnations of Kalumbardo appear to have lost their ascetic, Sufi orientation, Koyam mallams may have retained aspects of this Sufi orientation and reputation for piety. Indeed, according to tradition, Shehu al-Kanemi was reputed to be suspicious of a Koyam Sufi marabout linked to Kalumbardo and renowned for his spiritual power  (Mission Tilho 366). Zeltner, whose source is unclear, also reported that al-Kanemi himself had studied with the Koyam (Zeltner 200). It would be intriguing if tradition could confirm a link to Kalumbardo for Abu Gantur to the same Sufi tradition. 

Returning his movement, Gantur preached rebellion in the Nganzai area, near Gajiram. Claiming power over jinn or spirits, Gantur denounced Rabih. His supposedly uncoordinated movement with millenarian tendencies burgeoned into a following of 20,000 (Mohammed 54). His force defeated troops sent by Rabih, then burned Kuli, Marte and Mussene during their march to Dikwa, the capital of Rabih in Borno. These towns were burned or pillaged for refusing to join the rebels. Unfortunately, the rebels were defeated at Damagda, near Mufiyo. Rabih led troops armed with firearms against the mostly unarmed "rabble" behind Gantur. Intriguingly, Gantur's movement apparently lacked any ties to the resistance of the al-Kanemi dynasty, and aristocrats were opposed to Gantur. Mohammed suggests this was likely due to Gantur's expressed desire to seize control of Borno (56). This could be true, since the founder of the al-Kanemi dynasty had first emerged to political authority through seizing effective rule during a crisis. Thus, oral traditions of Shehu Kyari requesting mallams pray for the defeat of Gantur are plausible. Other traditions report that Gantur lost the support of the jinns after accepting a bridge from Rabih. Alternatively, it is possible that after marrying 3 women, the jinns left him (Mohammed 56). These traditions seem to imply that Gantur claimed to be the husband of a powerful jinn who left him out of jealousy. Thus, abandoned by the spirits, his mostly unarmed followers were powerless against a well-trained force armed with modern firearms. H.R. Palmer was simply told that Gantur lost due to being "remiss in his prayers" (Palmer 24). Hallam, on the other hand, repeated a variant of one of the traditions cited by Mohammed. Essentially, Gantar was abandoned by his jinn wife after taking a Kanuri bride given to him by Rabeh (Hallam 145).

In short, the rebellion, led by a charismatic religious figure of Koyam extraction, was brutally crushed. The Koyam of Nganzai and the Badawi of Gubio had their livestock seized by Rabih's government for supporting it. Even the Magumi Furibe were punished for supporting Gantur (Mohammed 88). Although the Koyam of Nganzai rebelled again in c.1896 and killed the chima gana Sugur of Gadim, the movement of Gantur was utterly eradicated. While popular tradition suggests supernatural causes for the defeat, one must look more closely at the nature of the movement and its popular support to understand why it failed to overthrow the Sudanese warlord, Rabih. Fortunately, Emile Julien's description of Abu Gantur provides some clues about the nature of the movement. According to him, "Abou Gantour" was based din Maiduguri, today the capital of Borno State in Nigeria. He was a faki who preached a holy war of national liberation against Rabeh, associated with the "Turks" in Julien's account. Through his friendship with spirits, Gantur allegedly held superior occult powers to that of the "Mahdi of Turcs." With this divine power assuring his followers of victory, peasants rallied behind him with calls of "Koun fi ye koun" (soit dans ce qui est). They were only armed with branches or sticks (Julien 132). Unfortunately, his 20,000 followers were defeated at N'Goumati when Gantur's forces charged Rabih's well-armed gunmen. Since the spirits didn't save him, he was killed, beheaded, and his followers ravaged (Julien 133). Julien's account suggests that Gantur may have seen Rabih as a supporter of the Mahdi. It is possible that some in Borno believed Rabih was a proponent of Mahdism since Hayatu of the Sokoto Caliphate hoped to win Rabih's support for an invasion of Sokoto (Mohammed 112). However, Julien's description of Gantur presents him as referring to Rabih as a "Turk" invader. It is not entirely clear, but it would appear that Gantur rejected Rabih's rule on the grounds of his "Turk" background and the authority of the Mahdi. Even though Rabih was not considered by most to be a genuine Mahdist, it would seem that Gantur presented him as one (Mohammed 108). His popular support must have also represented both the appeal of a charismatic religious figure, the belief in his spiritual authority and holiness, and the fact that the disconnect between the peasantry and the ruling class was too extreme for any genuine inter-class project of liberation. If the al-Kanemi dynasty had truly lost legitimacy after overtaxing the peasantry, particularly with the Kumoreji tax under Shehu Hashimi, and then lost whatever appeal afterwards by their utter failure to defeat Rabih, the peasantry had no choice but to rally around a religious figure.

If one accepts the interpretation of Cohen of Kanuri society as one in which powerful men (and usually men at this time) accumulated dependents who came to them for protection and security, then the lack of competent elites of the al-Kanemi dynasty left the peasantry no choice. If there were no legitimate leaders or wealthy elites who could provide protection and opportunities for advancement, the rural masses could only turn to a charismatic mallam like Gantur. Unlike the Manga Uprising of 1824, which included local Mangari leadership as well as a charismatic mallam, this rebellion lacked powerful elites to whom alliances or support could easily be extended. There was no galadima or Sayfawa mai the peasants could appeal to, from an alliance with, or use to legitimize their revolt. What would be more interesting to consider is why other towns or villages refused to join the movement. The movement's failure to appeal to more communities, including those with better arms, likely contributed to their downfall as it became clear Rabih's forces possessed superior firearms and military training. And if the traditions of Abu Gantur falling for a bride sent by Rabih suggest anything, there may be a hint at an attempt on Rabih's part to coopt the movement. While ultimately unsuccessful, Gantur's defeat was explained by supernatural reasons in tradition. More importantly, the absence of a well-armed, or at least a peasant accustomed to warfare spelled doom for Gantur. The Manga were accustomed to self-defense, had expertise in the use of poison arrows, and could hold their own against cavalry sent by al-Kanemi.

In conclusion, the revolt led by Abu Gantur represents a fascinating moment of peasant political mobilization in Borno. Though unsuccessful and brutally crushed, the uprising suggests many things about the nature of class, power, religion, and political contest. In order to best protect themselves and sometimes advance socio-economically, dependents attached themselves to patrons. The most talented ones sometimes became influential figures in their own right. Borno by the 1890s, however, was in crisis with a ruling elite probably devoid of legitimacy. Given these conditions of overtaxation and the failure of the al-Kanemi dynasty to provide protection, the peasantry turned to an influential Koyam mallam, Gantur, who may have adapted Sufi and ascetic practices from the Kalumbardo school. He claimed support from spirits and rejected Rabih as a foreign "Turk" and Mahdist. Without alliances from wealthy patrons with access to weapons, better arms, and more troops, the movement failed to coalesce into a broader rebellion across Borno. In fact, traditions suggest the al-Kanemi dynasty actively sought the defeat of Gantur. This failure to create cross-class alliances across more of Borno promised disaster for Gantur, whose followers were massacred at Damagda. The Manga uprising of the 1820s also failed, but that uprising included both a charismatic mallam and local elites with a well-armed peasantry. They also could use the Sayfawa to legitimize their revolt and use their important frontier location as a "bargaining chip" of sorts. 

Bibliography

Brenner, Louis. The Shehus of Kukawa: A History of the Al-Kanemi Dynasty of Bornu. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1973.

Cohen, Ronald. The Kanuri of Bornu. New York: Holt, Rinehart and Winston, 1967.

Hallam, W. K. R. The Life and Times of Rabih Fadh Allah. Ilfracombe: Stockwell, 1977.

Julien, Émile. "Mohamed-es-Senoussi et ses États." Bulletin de la société des recherches congolaises 10, 1925.

Mohammed, Kyari. Borno in the Rabih Years, 1893-1901 : the Rise and Crash of a Predatory State. Maiduguri, Nigeria : University of Maiduguri, 2006.

Palmer, H.R. Gazetteer of Bornu Province.  Lagos: Govt. Printer, 1929.

Tilho, Jean (editor). Documents Scientifiques De La Mission Tilho. Paris: Imprimerie Nationale, 1910.

Zeltner, J. C. Pages D'histoire Du Kanem: Pays Tchadien. Paris: Harmattan, 1980.

Officer Landeroin

Whilst perusing old issues of La Dépêche coloniale illustrée on Gallica, we came across an article on Tchad that included a photograph of Moïse Landeroin, the interpreter of the Tilho Mission. His role was very important for the historical section of their report, Documents scientifiques de la Mission Tilho, 1906-1909. As an interpreter, one must carefully excavate his process and how his recording of traditions reflected both colonial authority and the interests of local elites. It would be a worthy endeavor to revisit his work and methodology and compare with the research methods of British and German colonial officers and administrators in the region.

The First Kalumbardo and Umar b. Idris

One of the mysteries of ulama-state relations is the tragedy of the first Kalumbardo settlement in Borno. The traditions and written sources on this shadowy event are unclear and, sometimes, contradictory. Nonetheless, it is clear that the Sayfawa ruler of Borno, Umar b. Idris (r. 1619-1639) ordered the execution of a prominent shaykh affiliated with the Kalumbardo settlement. In addition, another cleric associated with the settlement was forced into exile or pressured to flee to Bagirmi. Many unanswered questions persist about the nature of this conflict, the background of the central personages, and the connection between this first Kalumbardo community and the second one led by a Koyam shaykh. This post will explore the dimensions of the first Kalumbardo community's conflict with mai Umar b. Idris and possible relevant factors for its dissolution. 

First, the major source. Muhammad Bello, whose Infaq al-maysur was written in the early 1800s, praised the shaykhs associated with the first Kalumbardo settlement as scholars promoting Sufism. However, his language is rather uncertain about many of the details, implying that he relied on tradition for most of his narrative. In addition, he may have inserted a falsified speech by one of the victims of Umar b. Idris, Shaykh Waldede. In this speech, Waldede hints at the fall of Borno when a renewer of the faith appears, perhaps represented by Uthman dan Fodio (Bello 71). As a result of this problematic speech inserted into the narrative and the fact that Bello was writing a work that sought to justify the jihad and the Sokoto Caliphate, it is possible some elements of the narrative are embellished or exaggerated to heighten the unjust, corrupt, and immoral nature of Sayfawa rule. These issues aside, other sources and traditions recall Shaykh Waldede's conflict with the ruler of Borno. Moreover, the Sufi leader executed by the state, Shaykh al-Wali b. al-Jarmi, appears in other traditions. Bello identifies the latter as a Tuareg (71). In addition, Waldede was said to have studied in Agadez and Timbuktu (71). If true, then the identification of al-Jarmi as a Tuareg could also be valid. Bello's retelling of events could support the narrative of Waldede studying in the west and then returning to Borno with a Tuareg Sufi, collaborating in the leadership of a zawiya which threatened the state. This threat to the state presumably led to divisions among the ulama  in the Sayfawa court.

But, some elements of Bello's account are problematic. According to him, Waldede died a little after 1000 A.H. (71). If this is true, then Waldede died before the reign of Umar b. Idris. As previously mentioned, Bello was also writing a larger work that sought to justify the Sokoto Caliphate. In other words, the oppressive, unethical, or non-Islamic traits of previous governments in the region were emphasized, even in the case of Borno where Islam was deeply rooted. Additional problems with this narrative can be seen in oral traditions which identify the Borno king who exiled Waldede as Ibrahim (Lavers 223). Hammidu Bobboyi, relying on oral traditions, identifies al-Jarmi as a Borno native of Arab origin. In fact, there was a Shaykh Jirmi (spelling of Bobboyi), son of Goni Salih. This Shaykh also had two sons, Hassan and Musa Dangul (Bobboyi 17). On the other hand, H.T. Norris, whose Sufi Mystics of the Niger Desert sees the influence of the Mahmudiyya of Air in Kalumbardo, argued in favor of a Tuareg origin for al-Jarmi. According to him, al-Jarmiyu's name indicated Tuareg origin. Furthermore, in Borno folklore, Waldede was said to have escaped the horsemen of Umar b. Idris on a flying blanket (36). This contradicts Bello, whose narrative suggests that Umar b. Idris let Waldede go after executing al-Jarmi. Last but certainly not least, Bello attributes Umar b. Idris's brutal crackdown to secular reasons. Oral traditions in Borno, suggest theological differences related to tawhid (100). Muhammad Nur Alkali cites divisiveness caused by the Sufism of al-Jarmi and Waldede (Nur Alkali 256). 

So, how can one reconcile these traditions? The fact that apparently disparate traditions from Borno, the Sokoto Caliphate, Bagirmi, and Wadai seem to refer to the conflict between a ruler of Borno and the leadership of the first Kalumbardo attest to its historicity. Sources from Wadai, for instance, recall that the founder of the sultanate, Abd al-Karim, studied at Bidderi (Barth 528-529). His teacher, identified by Barth as Muhammad and as Mahammat el-Djirmi in a text published by Tubiana are probably the same al-Jirmi of the first Kalumbardo (Tubiana 58). Borno tradition recalls both Waldede and al-Jirmi, with one variant recorded by Palmer identifying the mai who sent a kaigama against "Umar dan Didi" as Dunama Dibalemi (Lavers 223). The connection to Bidderi for the founder of the Wadai Sultanate is still plausible, as the Waldede family were likely linked to its Fulani residents. Consequently, it is feasible that al-Jarmi (or a member of the family) taught at Bidderi before returning to Borno. Such a link connects the first Kalumbardo to both Bidderi in Bagirmi and with the origins of the first sultan of Wadai to the east.

To better comprehend the possible roots of the conflict, one must retrace their steps and ponder the recent past and larger context of Kalumbardo. Beginning with Bagirmi, Nachtigal's history of the reign of Abdallah (c.1568-1608) suggests growing royal patronage of Islam. Indeed, 4 mu'allim of Fulani origin, who are named Dede, Shille, Aji Amede, and Majangala, are said to have helped design the ground plan for his palace. They were also sent to different villages around the kingdom to teach and spread Islam. Nachtigal also tells us this ruler appointed a qadi, an imam, established mosques, invited foreign clerics, and therefore thoroughly promoted Islam (Nachtigal 403). If the chronology for Abdallah's reign is accurate, this suggests that Bidderi in the late 16th century and early 17th century likely benefited from state patronage. Indeed, the Fulani were established in the area north of Ba Batshikam by the 1400s, when they paid tribute to the Bulala rulers of Kanem (398). When the state of Bagirmi was founded in the early 1500s, the Fulani were remembered as allies of the newcomers who established the state (400). This suggests that Bidderi and similar settlements of Fulani Muslims may have welcomed students from other communities whilst also participating in broader regional centers of learning in Borno or beyond. Therefore, traditions of Wadai's founder studying in Bidderi before seizing power in the early 17th century are plausible. Moreover, if al-Jarmi was present in Bidderi or Bagirmi, it could be due to Waldede already having links there since the late 16th century. 

If, however, one accepts the Agadez and Timbuktu travels of Waldede as plausible, then one must also look closely at the Air region's history. In this region, the Mahmudiyya Sufis were established in the 1500s. Their disciples also included a prominent Fulani, Ahmad b. faqih Awgar al-Fullani (Norris 42). It is difficult to imagine that a Fulani scholar with ties to other Islamic Fulani communities did not encounter followers of Sidi Mahmud al-Baghdadi. Other events in Agadez or Air during this period include a revolt led by Hadahada during the reign of Muhammad al-Tafrij. This revolt, which Hadahada led as a jihad against the sultanate, lacks a precise date. Nonetheless, this sultan's reign overlapped with that of Umar b. Idris (Hamani 230). In this environment, with a Sufist leader killed by a sultan in the 1500s and then a revolt against the Sultan challenging his legitimacy on Islamic grounds, one might imagine the intellectual climate Waldede (and al-Jarmi?) experienced or at least were influenced by.

From Borno's perspective, the early decades of the 17th century required active leadership and policy to maintain the sultanate's status as a regional power. Yet the Tuareg of Air remained a persistent thorn. Nur Alkali attributes to Ibrahim b. Idris several campaigns against them (Nur Alkali 255). Oral traditions point to the reign of Umar b. Idris for the establishment of a Mandara prince in Muniyo. This prince, Kazelma Saemi, was sent explicitly to aid the Gamagama in their fight against the Tuareg (Landeroin 404). Umar b. Idris even sponsored the creation of the galadima at Nguru to defend Borno's western frontier, appointing his son by a slave woman to the post. The first galadima already had to put down a Fulani revolt (Palmer Gazetteer 104). These measures taken by Umar b. Idris imply concern for the border was central to state interest, especially to the west. This suggests that the strategy of Idris Alooma to rely on the Koyam and other local populations to make constant raids against the Tuareg, as well as to secure the loyalty of some of them to Borno instead of Agadez, did not succeed. When one also considers the chances that Umar b. Idris was also an elderly man when he took the throne, and perhaps his brother Ibrahim b. Idris was assassinated, concern for state security and political stability must have been paramount (Palmer BSS 98). According to Nur Alkali, he was also known for not accepting any opposition (Nur Alkali 256). This may also explain why Umar b. Idris chose to have al-Tahir of the Awlad Muhammad dynasty drowned when the latter fled to Borno from the Fazzan in 1622/3 (El-Hesnawi 114). Umar, who may have viewed the nephews of al-Tahir as the legitimate rulers of the Fazzan, wanted to punish al-Tahir for usurping the throne from them. Otherwise, Umar b. Idris also viewed the matter as another entanglement that threatened the status quo among powers in the Central Sudan/Sahara. 

Given what we know of Umar b. Idris's background, the first Kalumbardo community triggered his concern for protecting the state. Norris, whose study of the Mahmudiyya in Air was heavily based on the Qudwa, believes that the "Way" promoted by Waldede and al-Jarmi was influenced by Sidi Mahmud al-Baghdadi. Thus, Umar b. Idris acted in the way he did due to the proximity of the Kalumbardo leadership with Air (137). Norris's hypothesis is an attractive one, but lacks enough evidence of the actual practices of the Waldede and al-Jarmi to validate it. Their practices may have been similar to the Sufi practices of al-Baghdadi's followers, but without sources to describe what they actually did, it remains a hypothesis. However, the fact that the sultan of Agadez during Umar b. Idris's reign also had to put down Hadahada's revolt may have been another factor in the Sayfawa ruler's decisions. If Hadahada's revolt occurred before the Kalumbardo leaders were called to the court, perhaps Umar b. Idris acted harshly due to a fear that Waldede and al-Jarmi would lead a revolt like Hadahada? Ultimately, a clear link between the two region's Sufi centers at this time is ambiguous, but the traveler al-Yamani, who visited both the second Kalumbardo community and Air, visited Ahmad al-Targui al-Lamtouni in Air (Nashr al-Mathani 308). 

If the Sufism promoted by Waldede and al-Jarmi was the trigger for Umar b. Idris's exiling the former and killing the latter, one must closely examine how the state and Islamic scholars and holy men interacted at this time. Since Sufism in Borno predated the first Kalumbardo settlement, and many rulers, including Umar b. Idris, had performed the pilgrimage to Mecca or spent time in Egypt, we find it difficult to believe the "oriental mysticism" exemplified by the Mahmudiyya would have been very novel or shocking. Besides, the Krump witnessing Muslims from Borno and the Fazzan engaging in what sounds like Sufist practices with music, dance and ritual prayer suggest Islamic mysticism likely had deeper roots in the region, possibly before the first Kalumbardo community. 

Another perspective on the issue focuses on theology. In Bobboyi's view, the debate over theology rather than Sufism itself caused the conflict (Bobboyi 100). As a result, the garbled traditions recall al-Jirmi was killed on the grounds of a fatwa he issued. The tradition asserts the shaykh gave a fatwa accusing another of being an unbeliever. Then, on the same grounds, the Sayfawa court declared al-Jirmi an unbeliever and executed him (101). Further, it may have involved Quranic folios in his shoes to declare him a kafir (112). This may be why, in Muhammad Bello's version of the execution, the Shahada was miraculously written in his blood (Norris 133). This could be, through the use of a miracle, Muhammad Bello's allusion to the accusation of unbelief. Even if it wasn't the Sufist practices of the community that led to the fatal confrontation with Umar b. Idris, the latter's actions were not met with universal support. Nur Alkali, citing Sheriff Ibrahim, writes of some of al-Jarmiyu's disciples leaving Birni Gazargamo because of Umar b. Idris's actions (259). Thus, the mai did something that was, to some at least, controversial and immoral. It was certainly remembered as such in Bagirmi and Wadai. 

After revisiting the sources on the Waldede-Jirmi affair, many questions remain unresolved. Why is it that the second Kalumbardo community, led by a charismatic shaykh who was accused by a qadi tied to the court of Ali b. Umar, allowed to continue his zawiya? Abu Bakr, the qadi, pressured Ali b. Umar into opposing the shaykh on the grounds he was a threat to the throne. Yet, unlike his father, who executed al-Jirmi, Ali b. Umar recognized his saintliness and supported the settlement. Like his father, he too had performed the pilgrimage and was certainly aware of various Sufi brotherhoods in the Muslim East. Was his acceptance of the mission predicated on coopting it through state support, brick workers for a mosque, and a close relationship with the state to neutralize any threat it might pose? Borno during his reign still had the challenge of Tuareg raids, and the second Kalumbardo community's leader was even killed by Tuareg raiders. If the Kalumbardo community's practices were so similar to those of Sufis in Air, why was the mai not worried about them? Or, was the mai eager to support the Kalumbardo shaykh for the spiritual and Islamic legitimacy it endowed his regime with? Ali b. Umar was known for his support of Islamic learning, his piety, and the projection of Borno as an Islamic state. Affirming it through a vibrant Sufi community on Borno's frontier may have served to support this image of the state. 

In summation, our knowledge of the first Kalumbardo settlement and the reign of Umar b. Idris raises more questions than answers. This mai seems to have been especially concerned with protecting his power and Borno's borders. While the leaders of this community were likely linked to the spread of Islam in Bagirmi and Wadai, the ruler of Borno saw that it was paramount to maintain his power and protect the state from any rebellion, assassination, or division. When some of the ulama of his court were drawn to the first Kalumbardo's Sufist practices, Umar b. Idris responded in a way that immediately minimized the threat. That the community was reborn under Koyam leadership during the reign of his son also raises questions. Possibly by the reign of Ali b. Umar, we see here a more concerted effort to accumulate baraka and Islamic legitimacy through state sponsorship and cooptation of renowned shaykhs.

Bibliography

Alkali, Mohammad Nur. 2013. Kanem-Borno under the Sayfawa: A Study of the Origin, Growth, and Collapse of a Dynasty (891-1846) . Nigeria: University of Maiduguri.

Barth, Heinrich. Travels and Discoveries in North and Central Africa: Being a Journal of an Expedition Undertaken Under the Auspices of H.B.M.'s Government in the Years 1849-1855. New York: D. Appleton, 1857.

Bello, Muhammad and Salahudeen Yusuf (editor). A History of Islam, Scholarship and Revivalism in Western Sudan, Being an Annotated Translation with Introduction of Infaqul-Maisur Fi Tarikh Bilad al-Tukur of Sultan Muhammad Bello Bin Fodio  / Salahudeen Yusuf. Zaria, Nigeria: Tamaza.

Bobboyi, Hamidu. The ’Ulama of Borno : A Study of the Relations between Scholars and State under the Sayfawa, 1470-1808. Dissertation, 1992.

Brenner, Louis. The Shehus of Kukawa: A History of the Al-Kanemi Dynasty of Bornu. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1973.

Dewière, Rémi. Du Lac Tchad à La Mecque: Le Sultanat Du Borno Et Son Monde (XVIe - XVIIe Siècle). Paris: Publications de la Sorbonne, 2017.

Hamani, Djibo. Au Carrefour Du Soudan Et De La Berbérie: Le Sultanat Touareg De L'Ayar. Niamey: Institut de recherches en sciences humaines, 1989.

Hassan, Yūsuf Fadl, and Paul Doornbos (editors). 1979. The Central Bilād Al-Sūdān : Tradition and Adaptation : Essays on the Geography and Economic and Political History of the Sudanic Belt : Proceedings of the Third International Conference of the Institute of African and Asian Studies, University of Khartoum, Held from 8 to 13 November 1977. Khartoum: The Institute.

Al-Hesnawi, H. W. Fazzan under the rule of the Awlad Muhammad. A Study in political, economic, social and intellectual history. Dissertation, 1990.

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Nachtigal, Gustav, Allan G. B. Fisher, and Humphrey J (trans.). Fisher. Sahara and Sudan, Vol. II. Berkeley and ; Los Angeles: University of California Press, 1971.

Norris, H. T. 1990. Ṣūfī Mystics of the Niger Desert : Sīdī Maḥmūd and the Hermits of Aïr. Oxford England: Clarendon Press.

Palmer, H.R. Gazetteer of Bornu Province.  Lagos: Govt. Printer, 1929.

___________. The Bornu Sahara and Sudan. London: J. Murray, 1936.

___________. Sudanese Memoirs: Being Mainly Translations of a Number of Arabic Manuscripts Relating to the Central and Western Sudan. 1st ed., new impression. London: Cass, 1967.

Al-Qâdirî, Mouhammad, Michaux-Bellaire, Édouard (trad.), Nachr al-Mathânî, II, De l’an 1051 (1641J.-C.) à l’an 1100 (1688 J.-C.). Paris: Ernest Leroux (Archives marocaines, vol. XXIV), 1917.

Tilho, Jean (editor). Documents Scientifiques De La Mission Tilho. Paris: Imprimerie Nationale, 1910.

Tubiana Marie-José. "Un document inédit sur les sultans du Waddāy." Cahiers d'études africaines, vol. 1, n°2, 1960. pp. 49-112. DOI : https://doi.org/10.3406/cea.1960.3667

Usman, Yusufu Bala, and Nur Alkali (editors). 1983. Studies in the History of Pre-Colonial Borno. Zaria: Northern Nigerian Pub. Co.

Zakari, Maïkorema. Contribution à L'histoire Des Populations De Sud-Est Nigérien: Le Cas Du Mangari (XVIe-XIXe S.). Niamey: Institut de recherches en sciences humaines, 1985.

Kanem in Transition: Conversion to Islam

J.C. Zeltner's map of Kanem in the 1570s (Pages d'histoire du Kanem: pays tchadien). 

Whilst perusing notes on the works of Palmer, Bobboyi, Lange, Patterson, Ahmad b. Furtu, Nachtigal and old mahram documents, the ascent of the Sayfawa dynasty under Hummay (r.1075-1086) attracted our attention. Although Lange has argued that the rise of Hummay as mai of Kanem marked a change in dynasties and not a conversion to Islam, we have argued for dynastic continuity based on oral traditions, medieval Arabic external sources, and local (Borno) traditions and texts. Putting aside the possibility of a dynastic change from the Banu Duku to the Banu Hummay, if we examine the mahram attributed to Hummay's reign, a praise song to Hummay, and traditions recorded in subsequent mahram and girgam texts, one can track the trajectory of Kanem's Islamization in the 11th century, especially through relations with Kawar.

Beginning with the mahram attributed to Hummay and translated in H.R. Palmer's Bornu Sahara and Sudan, one finds intriguing clues about the gradual conversion of the ruling elite. According to the "Mahram of Umme Jilme," which was certainly written after the time of Hummay and likely incorporated oral traditions, Islam came to Borno through Muhammad b. Mani. Muhammad b. Mani apparently lived for 120 years and during his time in Kanem, spent time reading parts of the Koran during the reigns of Bulu, Arku, Hawa, and Umme (Hummay). Since the source has incorporated oral tradition the lifespan of 120 years is perhaps an allusion to different generations of the same family. If so, the mahram likely records the gradual religious change among the rulers of Kanem from Bulu (r. 1007-1023) to 1086. Intriguingly, each successive mai of Kanem gave progressively larger amounts of camels as gifts for Muhammad b. Mani's efforts, culminating with the finest gift from Hummay (100 pieces of silver, 100 pieces of gold, 100 camels, and 100 slaves). Since the preceding kings gave smaller amounts of gifts to Muhammad b. Mani, we can assume that this is meant to indicate the full transition to orthodox Islam. Even more fascinating is the allusion to the "secret" reading with Muhammad b. Mani during the time of Hummay (Bornu Sahara and Sudan 14). Why was his reading with this prominent Islamic teacher done in secret?

Besides giving ample gifts to Muhammad b. Mani, Hummay also declared other tribes haram: Tura Tuzan, Gamayambara, Kayi Malakayi, Dihiluri, Diri Laima, and Ajama Bulumi (14). The last of them, Ajama Bulumi, brings to mind mai Bulu who reigned at the beginning of the 11th century. Another perhaps familiar name, Kayi Malakayi, may be an allusion to an influential family of Kay (Kayi) origin who were already Muslims. The Tura Tuzan (spelled Tura Tuzar on page 14) was explicitly described as a "the pillar of my kingdom" (15). Consequently, the mahram emphasizes the exemptions made for the family of Tura Tuzar (or his clan?) and Muhammad b. Mani for their services to Hummay. Consequently, their goods were haram, and they were exempted from serving the men of the king on their lands and paying diya and tribute. While it is ambiguous, the implication here is that the Tura Tuzan and the aforementioned tribes or families also played a role in the Islamization of Kanem and serving the king. As compensation, they were freed from the tribute obligations, the quartering of troops, and from government interference. 

While this short mahram, of which 2 copies of the Arabic text have been found, raises more questions than answers, the central recipient, Muhammad b. Mani, was remembered in Kanem-Borno tradition for several centuries. Ahmad b. Furtu, the imam chronicling the campaigns of Idris Alooma (r. 1564-1596), claimed descent from the tribe of Muhammad b. Mani (A Sudanic Chronicle 34). Furthermore, Hamidu Bobboyi's research on this mahram found Muhammad Mani Aisami remembered in oral traditions as a progenitor of the Kangu Kanuri (Bobboyi 118). Further elaboration of this tradition can be seen in Palmer's third volume of Sudanese Memoirs. Muhammad Mani Aisami was said to have accompanied the Sayfawa to Njimi (31). In addition, the 4 sub-tribes of the Kangu included the Wandala, Adiribu, Zulamari, and Limanwa (32). Another tradition reported that the Kayi, Kangu, Farfari, and N'gumma lived together in the time of mai Hajj Fannami, in Mobber (29). Indeed, a lawan named Kadai of Gotofo in Mobber also claimed descent from the Kangu, who fed horses of the mai (30). Consequently, Kangu identity and tradition of descent from a major figure in the Islamization of Kanem(-Borno) do lend credence to the authenticity of the mahram.

Although these aforementioned traditions suggest deep ties between the Kangu and the Sayfawa dynasty through Muhammad b. Mani, who taught the Sayfawa (in Islamic terms), the prominent role played by the Tura Tuzan is suggestive. Beginning with mai Bulu, the Diwan demonstrates maternal ancestry connecting Kanem's rulers with Kawar. His successor, Arku, was also said to be the son of a woman from Kawar, though Tamaghar instead of Banu Kay (Diwan 67). If reliable, one can see by the late 10th century a marriage alliance between the ruler of Kanem, Ayuma, that was continued by his son and grandson. In fact, Hawa, whose description in the Diwan is also problematic, was the son of a Tamaghar woman and invested by the (Fatimid?) caliph. His mother, whose name is rendered by Lange as Ark.kay.waw.n, which bears a slight resemblance to Arku's name. One can detect even stronger evidence of ties to Kawar in the Diwan reporting Arku settling colonies of slaves in Dirku, Seguedine, and Zaylan (southern Fazzan). A mosque was even specified in the case of Seguedine (Diwan 67). If this tradition is authentic, one can detect an Islamic affinity or at least strong interest from Arku, who otherwise would likely not have sent slaves to a mosque. When one recalls the mahram of Hummay, a similar pattern can be found of gradually increasing Islamic influence from the reign of Bulu onwards.

"The Song of the Babuma to the Sultan Umme Jilme" in Palmer's Bornu Sahara and Sudan.

Arku appears to have been a pivotal figure in this era of transition. Another source, a text written in 1751, copied in the 19th century and published in Kano, was translated to English by Palmer in Bornu Sahara and Sudan. According to Palmer's translation, Arku gave the kingdom to his son due to sickness, but continued to rule nonetheless. If this tradition is reliable, then the lengthy reign of 44 years assigned to Arku might have included a sizable part of it as a co-reign with his son, Hawa. However, the source translated by Palmer skips Hawa, referring to Abd al-Djalil (r.1071-1075) as his son. Hummay, the next mai in most accounts, is remembered for ruling an implausible 50 years but not formally taking the title of king (97). Due to the problematic nature of this source, one must use it with extreme caution. Nonetheless, the tradition of Arku abdicating the throne yet still retaining much power might explain the short reigns of Hawa and Abd al-Djalil in the Diwan. This source also refers to the Tura Al Babawa and the exchange of horses during the reign of Katuri, the grandfather of Bulu by the reckoning of the Diwan. However, the Diwan assigned an implausible 250 years-long reign to Katuri, suggesting a perhaps mythical person or clan ancestor (Diwan 66). If, however, we assume the historicity of Bulu and therefore his father, Ayuma, perhaps Katuri did reign in the 900s when the trade in horses was increasing. While purely speculative and relying on problematic sources and translations, it is plausible and would indicate burgeoning cultural, economic, and religious interactions with Kawar. 

The growing scale of interactions with Kawar, and by extension, North Africa and the Middle East, undoubtedly favored the Islamization of Kanem's ruling class. Additional evidence of the significance of Tura peoples in this phase of Kanem's history can be seen in the various mahram texts exempting Tura beneficiaries. For instance, the third volume of Sudanese Memoirs contains several Tura mahrams. According to one, supposedly written in 1806, the Tura people were aware of their diverse roots in Mecca, Medina, Istanbul, Egypt, Tripolitania, Benghazi, Sennar, Zeila, Agades, and Dirku, where they spent 220 years. However, the same tradition reports their time of 350 years in Borno (Palmer 12). If the dating here is somewhat accurate, the Tura had come to Borno in the mid-15th century. That pushes back their time in Dirku to the 1200s. This is only roughly reliable, but does accord with the contemporary sources from the 13th century that placed Kanem under the suzerainty of Borno by the time of Dunama Dibalemi. Palmer, whose text here may be ambiguously reporting oral traditions rather than the mahram itself, continues to list the descent of various Tura sub-groups back to their allegedly sharifian origin. In Dirku, the chiefs were Zulama, Dirkuma, and Amarma, with the first referring to the Fazzan. Given the long-standing trade relations between Kawar and the Fazzan, it is no surprise to see this place in the genealogical chain. However, the Arwalinwa Tura descend from Khuza'a ibn Balani. The tradition attributes the origin of other Tura to various chiefs, slaves of a pagan king named Gau Dala Shaliwa, and the Beni Hasan. Interestingly, the Tura Beni Ishak were said to be the people of this pagan king, Gau Dala Shaliwa, and also to be associated with Gazbi in Kawar (al-Qasaba of medieval Kawar). Their chiefs, named Guzuma, Fugu, Arwalingwamma, and Magadam, were likely people with deep roots in Gazbi (Palmer 12). The Guzuma Tura leader at Lalori, in Borno, also collected taxes from members of his group (Bobboyi 128). Naturally, to make sense of the traditions of origin recorded here requires careful examination of the original texts of the mahrams and corroboration with other sources. But what emerges clearly from here is the sense that the Tura in Borno retained strong memories of their places of origin in Kawar, even after centuries of life in Borno. The name Khuza'a ibn Balani also bears a superficial resemblance to the Tura Tuzan mentioned in the mahram of Hummay. Is it possible that the Tura of Borno were also descendants of the Tura family viewed by Hummay as a pillar of his kingdom?

As for the other mahram Palmer attributed to the reign of Hummay in Bornu Sahara and Sudan, it is far too ambiguous. The ruling king is named as Karkarma, son of Tigiram (16). While Tigiram sounds like a possible match with the name of Hummay's mother in the Diwan (T.k.r.m.), this problematic text with insertions from the time of Idris Alooma make it quite difficult to interpret. If it truly is from the era of Hummay, then the recipients of the mahram were Muallim Bikur and the following imams of the Saiyids: Daltuta, Dafaruna, Kiywaza, and Afanuna. In exchange for their prayers, willingness to marry the daughter of the mai, and mediation of the disputes of women, they are exempt from the tribute obligations, taxation, and other burdens of regular subjects. Unlike the other mahram, this one, in the possession of the Masbarma family, includes the marriage alliance with the mai through his daughter. If authentic, the mahram demonstrates the high status of Muslim recipients and the extent to which Hummay sought to incorporate Islam in the kingdom. Essentially, the head imam of the mosque was granted exemptions from taxes, probably received a large grant of land, and was incorporated into the ruling class through marriage.

Besides mahrams and chronicles or the Diwan, variant girgams may provide additional evidence of the transition to Islam. One girgam in the possession of Kashim Biri, was translated by Palmer in Volume III of Sudanese Memoirs. According to this girgam, Hummay did not perform the pilgrimage or die in Egypt, but his father Jil did. Instead, Hummay died at "Arikwa of many mosques" (36). According to his notes, Palmer traced Arikwa to the Kawar region (40). Yet to make things even more confusing, another girgam translated by Palmer referred to the place of death of Hummay as Rukanna in Kanem. If it seems unlikely for Kanem to have any place with many mosques by c.1086, perhaps Palmer was closer to the truth with Kawar as a possible site for Hummay's death. If so, this illustrates just how central ties to Kawar were for the consolidation of Islam among the ruling dynasty of Kanem. As Kawar already had Muslim communities by the 9th century, and remained a major point on Kanem's trade routes to the north, it was inevitable that Kawar contributed to the Sayfawa dynasty's conversion. 

Consequently, Hummay was indeed raised in an Islamized environment. His 4 predecessors were increasingly tied to Islam and, if the Diwan is to be trusted, probably converted to Islam by the time of Hawa (r. 1067-1071). Hummay may have been able to emerge as the most powerful ruler to fully establish Islam in the royal court due to the brief reigns of his predecessors. If our theory of Hawa and Abd al-Djalil having short reigns due to the longevity of Arku's life, there may have been conflict over dynastic succession which threatened the full embrace of Islam among the royal court. Hummay, whose praise song by the Babuma was included in Bornu Sahara and Sudan, emerges as a strong leader with access to horses. His defeat of the Dalla of Mobber, forcing the latter to flee in a papyrus boat (on Lake Chad?) and the seizure of captives demonstrate military prowess. Undoubtedly, the praise song must be used very cautiously given its anachronisms and its genre conventions, but Hummay was clearly the mai associated with Njimi, building a mosque in the dendal and strengthening Kanem through the redistribution of captive labor. Such a ruler was capable of implementing a fuller embrace of Islam than his predecessors. Kawar also played a pivotal role in this process as the region was increasingly incorporated into the orbit of Kanem. 

Sources

Bobboyi, Hamidu. 1992. The ’Ulama of Borno : A Study of the Relations between Scholars and State under the Sayfawa, 1470-1808. Dissertation.

Ibn Furṭū, Aḥmad (Dierk Lange, trans). A Sudanic Chronicle: The Borno Expeditions of Idrīs Alauma (1564-1576) According to the Account of Aḥmad B. Furṭū : Arabic Text, English Translation, Commentary and Geographical Gazetteer. Stuttgart: F. Steiner, 1987.

Lange, Dierk. Le Dīwān Des Sultans Du (Kānem-)Bornū: Chronologie Et Histoire D'un Royaume Africain (de La Fin Du Xe Siècle Jusqu'à 1808). Wiesbaden: F. Steiner, 1977.

Palmer, H. R. (Herbert Richmond). The Bornu Sahara and Sudan. Nigeria. J. Murray, 1936.

------. Sudanese Memoirs: Being Mainly Translations of a Number of Arabic Manuscripts Relating to the Central and Western Sudan. 1st ed., new impression. London: Cass, 1967.

Vikør, Knut S.The Oasis of Salt: The History of Kawar, a Saharan Centre of Salt Production. Bergen, Norway: Centre for Middle Eastern and Islamic Studies, 1999.

The Manga Revolt of 1824 and the Peasantry in Borno

"The squirrel said he eats all sorts of roots except the talaka root—that one is too bitter." 

-Manga Proverb

One of the intriguing episodes in Borno history witnessed by Denham in 1824 was an uprising of the Manga people. While the revolt has been analyzed by historians such as Lovejoy, Maikorema Zakari, Louis Brenner, and other scholars of Borno history, we believe it is important for many reasons. First, as a peasant rebellion in the name of the Sayfawa dynasty, the revolt forces one to reconsider the relationship between the ruling class of the Sayfawa dynasty and the peasantry. Second, even if mainly opportunistic in terms of the Sayfawa ruler, the revolt was led by a charismatic Muslim cleric. This suggests Islamic leaders were, at least sometimes, a voice for the oppressed and exploited peasantry. Thirdly, the revolt may have been connected to the struggle over the salt-producing areas. Despite the lack of clarity on the nature of pre-19th century history of salt production in the region, the Manga migration into the area may have marked the beginning of commoner control over a major economic resource. Thus, the revolt poses interesting questions on the nature of slave and peasant production in precolonial Borno and how subaltern classes negotiated the control over resources with the ruling class in a state of transition. 

According to Denham, the revolt was led by Fanaamy, a charismatic Muslim cleric renowned for his ability to make charms. The same source described him as a man with one side of his face hairless and another side covered by a thick beard (Denham 239). The Manga revolt arose, with Fanaamy as the mover, after they slaughtered 120 Shuwa Arab allies of al-Kanemi. Since the Manga had not fully accepted the authority of al-Kanemi as the effective head of government and the collection of tribute from the province always provoked bloodshed, the Manga decided to declare themselves as the subjects of the Sayfawa mai and attacked settlements loyal to al-Kanemi. Although Denham suggests the Manga rebels were capable of raising 12,000 archers, it is unclear exactly how many soldiers they had (204). They ultimately submitted to the Shehu after the latter sent 8000-9000 Kanembu spearmen and 5000 Shuwa and Bornoan (Kanuri?) forces against the rebels. 

Before putting down the revolt, however, the rebels were able to partly burn and pillage towns like Kabshary (223). Rhamadan, placed at Kabshary after its residents fled the Manga attack, used a ruse to defeat a much larger force of about 800 Manga rebels. Through this ruse, his smaller force, with only 12 Shuwa Arabs armed with guns, was able to slaughter 400 of the rebels (228). By the third of June, Rhamadan and Dawud were able to capture 800 Manga captives, women and children, to present to the Shehu. But, al-Kanemi being politically shrewd, freed the women and children on the grounds that they were Muslims and innocent of causing the revolt. The booty taken from the Manga captives also included horses and livestock (229). Later, by the fifth of June, the Manga began to submit to the Shehu, except for Fanaamy, who sent a peace offering that included thousands of slaves, cattle and 300 horses on the following day (230). The malam, however, eventually came to submit to al-Kanemi due to the intervention of the Shehu's personal reputation as a maker of charms and his use of the British travelers in Borno to fire two rockets. The rockets, which were seen by Fanaamy's son, awed the Manga who had never seen such a thing (231). 

By the next day, Fanaamy came to submit to al-Kanemi with 1000 followers. To his great surprise, the leader of the rebellion was given fine clothes and Egyptian turbans (232). According to Denham, al-Kanemi had no intention of leading a brutal slaughter of the Manga. Due to their location on the borderland, the Manga were known as warriors using poison arrows and accustomed to combat with the Tuareg and Fulani (237). As such, it was in the interests of the state to conciliate the Manga and restore peace to protect the border. Thus, al-Kanemi relied on his own reputation as a renowned malam to write charms to dull and damage the spears and arrows of the rebels. The renown of al-Kanemi for his charms was surely known in Borno since he used them when defeating the Fulani jihadists who had seized Birni Gazargamo, allegedly using a calabash filled with charm water (Koelle 230). Additionally, Denham personally believed his rockets also had a major effect by terrifying the Manga. Indeed, Fanaamy was said to have declared, "That to withstand a sheikh of the Koran who performed such miracles was useless, and at the same time, haram (sin)." Fanaamy's inability to resist the superior power of al-Kanemi convinced the Manga to submit (Denham 239). 

If Denham's account for the conflict, which he personally did not witness most of, can be considered reliable, it suggests that al-Kanemi led a large force of Kanembu, Arab, and Kanuri soldiers against the Manga to intimidate and frighten them. Then, after scoring a few victories and using his reputation as a holy man with the ability to write powerful charms, he was able to force most of the Manga leaders to submit to his authority. The account of Denham, however, ignores the Manga chiefs who led their villages in rebellion except to report on their submission. Moreover, since Denham believed the mai of Borno, Ibrahim, to be a powerless puppet of al-Kanemi with only the illusion of power through a subsidy from the Shehu, perhaps the lingering loyalty of parts of the Borno population to the Sayfawa dynasty was more meaningful than he realized. Last but certainly not least, the conflict over control of salines, or sites for natron production in Mangari may have fueled the conflict, too. Exploring each of these factors is necessary to understand the Manga Revolt from as many angles as possible. 

First, the lingering appeal to the authority of the Sayfawa. Although largely powerless since 1808, the Sayfawa loyalists still included 260-300 courtiers in the 1820s. So, even if Ibrahim reigned by the sufferance of al-Kanemi, there were still many in Borno who chose to remain loyal to the Sayfawa house (Denham, Vol. II, 107. Indeed, despite his young age of around 22, Ibrahim may have been closely watching the Manga rebellion from a supportive or at least neutral perspective. After all, Ibrahim was present on the campaign (Denham, Vol. I, 222). Furthermore, Ibrahim was eager to assert his authority after the death of al-Kanemi in the next decade, when he tried to force Shehu Umar to come to his court and pledge allegiance (Brenner 64). Therefore, it is hard to imagine the sultan of Borno being completely unaware of rebels in Mangari pledging their allegiance to him. Of course, al-Kanemi likely kept a close watch on Ibrahim at this critical time since a previous king, Dunama, had planned to defeat al-Kanemi with the aid of Bagirmi in 1820 (53). 

Further evidence of remaining Sayfawa loyalism may also be seen in the history of Mangari, Muniyo and western Borno before the fall of the Birni Gazargamo. According to Muhammad Nur Alkali, the galadima of Nguru was closely tied to the Manga (Nur Alkali 263). A Kanuri praise song for galadima Dunama Aisatu, who lived in the 18th century, refers to familial ties to the ruler of Muniyo. Since the position of galadima was held by descendants of the Sayfawa ruler, Umar b. Idris, and its dynasty had close ties with the Manga and the vassal state of Muniyo, it is possible that the Manga rebels of 1824 were proclaiming their Sayfawa loyalties due to much deeper ties than one may think. While the region of the Manga rebels in 1824 was once occupied by the Koyam for about 250 years, the Sayfawa court official, the zigibada, of slave origin, had the administrative district encompassing Manga, Borsari, Wulegi and supervision of the Koyam (Nachtigal 253). This titled official survived the transition to the al-Kanemi dynasty, and was possibly someone who would have paid close attention to events in Mangari at the time of the revolt. If this official had survived in the Sayfawa court, he may have been sympathetic to the Manga rather than al-Kanemi. While speculative, it is known that al-Kanemi endeavored to place as many areas of Borno under the control of his own following, the Kanembu and Shuwa allies (Brenner 104). Is it conceivable that forces opposed to al-Kanemi but also with strong ties to the Sayfawa going back centuries, may have clandestinely supported the Manga? Surely, the galadima and zigibada may have wanted to protect their own interests in the region and preserve, to whatever extent possible, zones of influence and fiefs (chima). 

Map of Muniyo and the nearby region, in 1854 (from Zakari's Contribution à l 'histoire des populations du Sud-Est Nigérien : Cas du Mangari (XVIè-XIXè siècle).

Lovejoy, whose Salt of the Desert Sun adopts a more economic perspective on the Manga Revolt, characterizes it as a peasant uprising. According to Lovejoy, the Manga revolted in an assertion of their rights to the salt districts of Goubei by championing Sayfawa restoration (Lovejoy 258). Lovejoy's fascinating thesis raises the question of peasants (the Manga) using control or access to a major resource (natron, and areas for natron production) to defend their own economic rights. Since Manga as an appellation is often equated with talaka status, the Manga uprising as a peasant revolt over who would control the salines in Mangari is an attractive hypothesis (270). Since the Manga peasants worked in the salines during the dry season and used that natron to trade and access goods acquired via the Hausa states, ensuring they could access the salines without too many obstacles was imperative (284). Unfortunately, oral traditions and written sources are unclear about the fief distribution which encompassed the salt-producing areas. If, as seems the case, al-Kanemi assigned them to his allies in Kukawa rather than the traditional elites (and perhaps those aligned with the Sayfawa court and the zigibada), the Manga uprising makes additional sense. While the nature of the tribute or taxation the Manga refused to pay is left unclear in Denham's account of the revolt, that the Shuwa were sent to collect it may serve as evidence that al-Kanemi had reassigned fiefs in the region to Shuwa allies. When the Manga began migrating in larger numbers to the region near the salines after the fall of Birni Gazargamo, they may have come to enjoy greater autonomy until al-Kanemi reassigned fiefs and demanded tribute payments. 

Yet, a problem with Lovejoy's perspective on the revolt is the lack of clear evidence for this in oral traditions. Although the natron produced by Manga laborers must have been part of the tribute or taxes demanded Shuwa allies of al-Kanemi, oral traditions do not emphasize this factor. Maikorema Zakari, whose study of Mangari is based on oral traditions, gives a fuller perspective than Denham. According to Zakari, the Manga began to migrate to the east in the early 1800s, fleeing the harsh rule of Kosso of Muniyo. Their first locality in the east was Wogum, founded in 1801 (11). Maine-Soroa, one of the Manga centers of the 1824 revolt, was founded sometime later by Digagi Kaumi (142). Landeroin was told that the Manga at the time obeyed lawans appointed by the rulers of Borno and Muniyo (Landeroin 412). The ruler of Muniyo, Kosso, however, often interceded directly with the Manga settlements, bypassing the lawans and bulamas (423). Returning to Maine-Soroa, Landeroin was told the ancestor of its chief was Adem Lafiami, whose son, Kagoumi, became dougaji in the early 1800s when invested by mai Dunama of Borno. Landeroin's informants told him Kagoumi was succeeded by his son, Nasser, who founded Maine-Soroa. Nasser was said to have been appointed by al-Kanemi to the post of bulama for the community (424). Zakari, on the other hand, was informed that Nasser and his allies of Maine-Soroa played a key role in the 1824 revolt led by Malam Fanaamy. Shehu al-Kanemi was even said to have ordered the killing of Nasser with other leaders in Kukawa after the revolt (Zakari 145). Thus, despite making peace with the malam who led the revolt and was incorporated into the regime, local chiefs were later removed from their positions of authority and killed. But, oral traditions recorded by Landeroin suggest the succession to the position of bulama and lawan remained in the family (Landeroin 424).

While the oral traditions give a somewhat fuller picture to the revolt, much remains uncertain. Apparently, the origins of Maine-Soroa can be traced to a local chief appointed by one of the last Sayfawa rulers. Since the Manga migrated eastward were already fleeing the oppressive taxation of Kosso of Muniyo, they may have also come to resent changes in the administration of the region ushered in by the al-Kanemi regime. While respecting the local lineage in Maine-Soroa through confirmation of their positions, al-Kanemi's Shuwa allies probably tried to collect taxes from fiefs in the region, which probably included salines. The leaders of Maine-Soroa and other settlements, however, may have administered the region with an eye to preserve their independence and protect their communities from the encroaching state and Tuareg bandits. According to Michael Horowitz, whose Manga informants were questioned on various aspects of Manga inter-group relations with other ethnic groups, the village chief bulama had limited authority. While able to order the villagers to work on his land, he could not act independently of the lawan. The latter, lamentably, could abuse their authority more easily, especially when they could pay off the representative from the central government (Horowitz Vol. III, 721). If the chief was truly tyrannical, the residents of the area would unite to gather money and send a representative to complain to the ruler at the capital (722). Other Manga interviewed by Horowitz reported that if Manga leaders were too oppressive, people could leave the village or request a new chief (740). Due to their recently established villages in the region, the local leaders may have been more careful to preserve their following and grow their communities. Consequently, this may have made the lawan less eager to collect taxes on grain or salt for the Shehu and his representatives, after being appointed by al-Kanemi to divide and rule the region (Zakari 144). This would have led to conflict with new chima distributions in the area when al-Kanemi took power, particularly if the newcomers were Shuwa without any deep roots in the area and eager to maximize tax collection. 

The Manga, in response, revolted with the aid of a charismatic faqih renowned for his ability to write charms. Said to have spent time in the south, Fanaamy may have been an outsider in the community whose renown for writing charms and stature as a malam made him a figure around which the communities could rally. If so, then this represents both a peasant revolt legitimized by Islam and the legacy of the Sayfawa. This is rather different from past revolts in Borno by communities refusing to pay taxes or tribute. For instance, the rebellions during the reign of Idris b. Ali in the 16th century lacked any clear Islamic inspiration and were sometimes led by decentralized groups. A clearer demonstration of the acceptance of Islam or at least Islamic legitimacy for building peasant communities free of oppressive taxation cannot be found than in the case of the Manga uprising. The growth of villages affiliated with the shaykhs of the Koyam may be another example of this growing stature of Islamic holy men as figures for social reform or at least more just government. According to tradition, their wise, just rule attracted residents who would not wish to remain under the heel of poorly administered chima (Landeroin 398). 

Although al-Kanemi succeeded in crushing the Manga revolt with little bloodshed, the Manga rose again in 1846. By this time, mai Ibrahim requested the aid of Waday to defeat Shehu Umar, the son of al-Kanemi (Brenner 65). The forces of Waday were defeated and Ibrahim killed, but the Manga insurrection of the same year threatened Shehu Umar (72). Once again, the Manga of Maine-Soroa led the attack on Shehu Umar in the hopes of profiting from the Waday invasion (Zakari 146). Although the sources do not suggest Ibrahim of the Sayfawa was in communication with the Manga rebels, it is possible they were partly motivated by the wish to support the Sayfawa. This second rebellion also supports the idea that local leaders within the eastern Manga communities continued to resist the divide and conquer strategy implemented by al-Kanemi after the 1824 revolt. The major difference with this uprising, though, is the conspicuous lack of a malam or Islamic leader. 

This review of the 1824 Manga rebellion raises questions on the nature of class, production, Islamic legitimacy and ideology for social reform, and relations between the Sayfawa dynasty and the peasantry. Undoubtedly, other push factors like oppressive rule in Muniyo and pull factors like the abandonment of Birni Gazargamo leading to an area with weak central authority afterwards were also factors in leading to revolt. But the past Manga connections with the galadima holders in Nguru, who were resistant to al-Kanemi but linked to the Sayfawa, may have been part of a pro-Sayfawa stance of Manga communities. Further, the titled officer with ties to the Sayfawa court who once oversaw the region occupied by the Manga may have also sympathized with the Manga as al-Kanemi's supporters seized control of fiefs or taxation privileges. Moreover, the prominent role played by a malam suggests Islam shaped the articulation of class and social conflict, whilst still affirming the elite political order of the Sayfawa period. If more traditions and written sources existed on the nature of other rebellions in precolonial Borno under the Sayfawa, particularly among areas where Islam was more widespread, comparisons with this revolt could be enlightening. Was the spiritual power and sanctity of the mai a source of appeal to peasants eager to sever ties with abusive fief-holders? To what extent did peasants have access to the royal court in Birni Gazargamo when dealing with abusive and exploitative chima?

Bibliography

Alkali, Mohammad Nur. 2013. Kanem-Borno under the Sayfawa: A Study of the Origin, Growth, and Collapse of a Dynasty (891-1846) . Nigeria: University of Maiduguri.

Barth, Heinrich. Travels and Discoveries in North and Central Africa: Being a Journal of an Expedition Undertaken Under the Auspices of H.B.M.'s Government in the Years 1849-1855. New York: D. Appleton, 1857.

Brenner, Louis. The Shehus of Kukawa: A History of the Al-Kanemi Dynasty of Bornu. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1973.

Denham, Dixon, Hugh Clapperton, Walter Oudney, and Abraham V. Salamé. Narrative of Travels and Discoveries in Northern and Central Africa: In the Years 1822, 1823, and 1824. 2d ed. London: John Murray, 1826.

Dewière, Rémi. Du Lac Tchad À La Mecque: Le Sultanat Du Borno Et Son Monde (XVIe - XVIIe Siècle). Paris: Publications de la Sorbonne, 2017.

Horowitz, Michael M. Manga of Niger. New Haven, Conn.: Human Relations Area Files, 1972.

Koelle, S. W. African Native Literature, or Proverbs, Tales, Fables, & Historical Fragments in the Kanuri or Bornu Language: To Which Are Added a Translation of the Above and a Kanuri-English Vocabulary. Church Missionary House, 1854.

Lovejoy, Paul E. Salt of the Desert Sun: A History of Salt Production and Trade in the Central Sudan. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1986.

Mission Tilho. Documents Scientifiques De La Mission Tilho...Paris: Imprimerie Nationale, 1910.

Nachtigal, Gustav, (trans.) Allan G. B. Fisher, and Humphrey J. Fisher. Sahara and Sudan, Vol. II. Berkeley and ; Los Angeles: University of California Press, 1971.

Nur Alkali, Muhammad. Kanem-Borno under the Sayfawa. A Study of the Origin, Growth, and Collapse of a Dynasty (891-1846). Maiduguri: University of Maiduguri, 2013.

Palmer, H. R. The Bornu Sahara and Sudan. London: J. Murray, 1936.

Patterson, J.R. Kanuri Praise Songs. Lagos: Government Printer, 1926.

Zakari, Maïkorema. Contribution à L'histoire Des Populations De Sud-Est Nigérien: Le Cas Du Mangari (XVIe-XIXe S.). Niamey: Institut de recherches en sciences humaines, 1985.

Tarikh el Kawar

Michel Le Sourd's "Tarikh el Kawar" was published in Bulletin de l'I.F.A.N. in 1946. However, since the author was able to collect oral traditions from various parts of Kawar from people still old enough to recall precolonial days, there is some value in this rather short article. Lamenting the lack of interest by literate Kanuri and others in Kawar, Le Sourd attempts a broad overview of Kawar history based solely on oral traditions. Without even referring to the external medieval sources or references to the region from Kanem and Borno, Le Sourd's study is probably most useful for a glimpse of Kawar in the last 2 or 3 centuries. 

According to Le Sourd, the populations of Kawar in chronological order are the following: Soo (Sao), Konnas, Terras, Kanuris and Tubus. Unfortunately, none of his informants apparently gave him information on the Konnas and Terras, who were perhaps the people of Kawar when the region was described in medieval Arabic sources from the 9th century onward. As for the Sao, that appears to be a legend accompanying every Kanuri population. Indeed, some of the same traditions of the Sao familiar from Borno are repeated here, with a few minor differences. In fact, Fachi appears to have retained a stronger connection to legends of the Sao, perhaps a testament to the region's importance during the reign of Ali b. Dunama in his campaigns against Air (Le Sourd 4). However, Fachi traditions remember the sultan of Borno also killing the Sao of Fachi. Moreover, the story of the Kanuri using henna and a trick to trap the Sao is reported, even though this tradition is really more pertinent to the area of Birni Gazargamo or Borno proper (5). Alternatively, the memory of the Soo in Kawar could also be linked to the Tubu name for Seguedin, called Soo by those in the Tibetsi (15). Perhaps the name Soo for Segedin once covered a broader area of Kawar, but then mixed with Kanuri legends of the Sao?

Intriguingly, the Sao are remembered in tradition for the use of the ksur or fortified sites across the area (2). Even the town name Agram supposedly means fortified village in Kanuri, although a possible Berber etymology has been proposed elsewhere (35). The Kanuri association of fortified sites with the Sao probably means that the towns or villages already had fortifications before their arrival, though the Kanuri may have expanded or maintained them. 

As for the Konnas and Terras, perhaps the latter is an allusion to the Tura? As in the Tura who also migrated to Borno and of whom some examples of early mahrams have been located. The early Tura mahrams suggest close ties between Kanem and Dirkou which began by the 1100s. Indeed, close relations between the rulers of Kanem and Dirkou (as well as other parts of Kawar) likely began before the 11th century. As for the Konnas, the appellation brings to mind a word used in Borno for pagans to the South, said to be associated with Kwararafa. Since it is highly unlikely for people from Kwararafa to have preceded the Kanuri in Kawar, if there is any connection with the Kwona or Kwoana in Borno, it may simply be a reference to a pre-Islamic population living in Kanem before its Islamization during the time of the Terras (Turas?).

With the arrival of the Kanuri, a better sense of the history of the region begins. According to his informants, Le Sourd found that nearly every site in Kawar was previously inhabited by the Kanuri when the Tubu arrived. Thus, the Kanuri were at Guezebi-Guassar first, before the Tubu (6). The Tomaghera Tubu who migrated into the area intermarried with them, becoming the Guezebidas (7). Similarly, Dirku was said to have had a Kanuri population already when the Tubu arrived (10). Furthermore, Kanuri were the first at Sara, Djado, and Djaba. When recounting the legend of Dalla Kerkaou of Sara, Le Sourd also alludes to the Tuareg of Air ruling Djado, but the chronology for this probably legendary story is ambiguous (16). Is this a reference to the period of Air control in Kawar during the 18th and 19th centuries, or referring to a more ancient conflict between the peoples of Air and Kawar? Last but not least, the Koyam were also present in villages stretching from Agram to Termit (28). Their presence in the region, if they are indeed the Kay referred to in the Diwan, is likely of far deeper antiquity and may be linked to the early salt trade between Kawar and Kanem-Borno.

Also of interest is Le Sourd's observations on differences in spoken Kanuri in Kawar. According to his observations, the Kanuri spoken in Fachi, Djado and Tedjerhe in the Fazzan are similar and distinct from other Kawar villages (23). It is also asserted that these areas were once closer to Zeila, too  (22). Although travel between the Kanuriphone populations was negatively impacted by insecurity, their similarities despite the distance between the Fezzan and Fachi illustrate the latter's economic importance. The similarities to Djado lead one to wonder if that area was once also more economically important for a short route to the Fezzan. Fachi certainly was of great economic significance for trade. Moreover, traditions suggest Fachi, or Agram, was also an important site as early as the 15th century for the Sayfawa ruler, Ali b. Dunama. Its links to the Koyam salt traders are areas worthy of further investigation. 

In summation, Le Sourd's exposition on Kawar history, based solely on oral traditions, raises a number of interesting questions. That the current peoples of the area, of Kanuri and/or Tubu origin, attribute a Sao presence predating other groups could likely be a result of widely shared Kanuri legends of the Sao. If so, then this suggests the Kanuri population may be associated with movement into Kawar during the period of Sayfawa rule in Borno. Since some of the legends current in Kawar even refer to traditions on the origins of Birni Gazargamo to the South, one wonders if the 1400s might be a plausible period of origin for some of the Kanuri in Kawar. Of course, the close relations between Kawar and Kanem before this period could also have led to Kanembu and Kanuri-speaking communities in the area long before the 15th century. But the traditions of the Kawar Kanuri of peoples called Konna and Terra preceding them may be an allusion to the pre-Islamic and medieval population of the oases. Their disappearance may have been due to a merging into the Kanuri population, as the Tura of Borno suggest.