We here at the blog have developed a greater interest in the Sultanate of Agadez. In order to better understand Kanem-Borno as a civilization, closer study of its neighbors and larger regional context could be particularly useful. Indeed, sometimes one finds references or historical data from chronicles, oral traditions, and other primary sources pertinent to Kanem-Borno when looking at its neighbors, rivals, and trading partners. The Sultanate of Agadez, and particularly the chronicles shared with colonial officials and scholars like Yves Urvoy, provides an interesting example and striking example, as it touches upon 2 episodes in the history of Kanem-Borno: the shift of the royal capital and 17th century wars. While it is unlikely any Tuareg had a role in Ali Ghaji establishing Birni Gazargamo as the capital of the Borno in the late 1400s, the fact that the Agadez Chronicles and other traditions suggest a link between the Sayfawa and Air Tuaregs calls for closer scrutiny of Agadez-Borno relations.
As an example of the literary genre of the "chronicle" in a "Sudanic" context, incorporating a multiplicity of manuscripts and genres, one can immediately see how the Chronicles of Agadez, despite their brevity, can be situated within the larger context of the Tarikh al-Fattash, Tarikh al-Sudan, Ahmad b. Furtu's works, the Diwan of Kanem-Borno, Kano Chronicle, and various other kinglists or chronicles. Although short, perhaps due to manuscripts being destroyed in the 19th century during political upheaval, the Agadez Chronicles include some fascinating and innovative reworkings of the Sudanic chronicle as a genre. For example, what Urvoy calls Manuscript J, survived as a memoir of Abou-Bakar, son of Attaher-Tachi, and provides the closest thing to an autobiography that we have heard of from the 17th century. Sure, one can find autobiographical snippets and elements in the longer chronicles of Timbuktu and Ahmad b. Furtu or even the Borno mahrams translated by Palmer, but there's something else going on with Manuscript J.
While the objectivity and problematic origin of the texts has been pointed out by scholars like Rossi, we find the Agadez Chronicles to be full of events that, in the main, probably did occur. For instance, the pilgrimages to Mecca by the son of an Agadez sultan in the late 1600s was mentioned by a French captive in Tripoli, who also mentioned the economic importance of Agadez's senna exports reaching France and Italy through Tripoli. Other data corroborates the general outline of the Chronicles, such as war with Borno, the conquest of Ader, and, probably the number of assassinations and dethronements of various sultans. European sources from the late 18th and 19th centuries likewise support aspects of the Agadez Chronicles. Thus, while one can see that Rossi is probably correct about the manuscripts being edited by 1907 to legitimize certain political actors in the history of the Sultanate, they also contain some great information on the nature of the Agadez state, its dependence on feuding Tuareg clans, the persistence of matrilineal descent among the Tuareg, "privileged" tribes and the relationship between nomads and the state, the business of war and long-distance trade, and, in one cases, one man's experience of life in the kingdom during the second half of the 17th century.
For us, the list of kings and how this sultan was dethroned or assassinated and that sultan survived civil war is useful to compare with the details on the deaths of various kings and political conflicts in the Diwan. Clearly, these kinglists were not just lists, but records of some of the major events that took place during a reign, probably based on oral and written sources, and suggestive of how the authors or compilers conceived of an ideal ruler. For us, the comparison to the Diwan and the history of Kanem-Borno would focus on moments where kings faced civil wars, the Bulala threat, famines, patronage of scholars, the frequency of pilgrimages, and various campaigns and civil wars between the Dawudid and Idrisid branches of the Sayfawa dynasty. One cannot help but notice the frequency of matrilineal succession among the rulers of Agadez, a phenomenon not present in the Diwan, despite the alleged importance of queen mothers and their clan affiliations. What does that suggest about the role of women, tribal or clan affiliation, and the stability of the government?
Moreover, one almost can see the early centuries of the Sayfawa dynasty as being perhaps closer to the Agadez Sultanate, an era in which the mai had to contend against Tubu and other nomadic elements which resisted centralization. Of course, we do not lend much credence to the assertions of authors like Heinrich Barth about a Berber or Tuareg origin of the Sayfawa and the royal Magumi clan. However, the Agadez state might shed light on what the early Kanem state was like as a ruling dynasty of Saharan nomadic origins combined pastoralist and sedentary agriculturalists. Lamentably, the Agadez Chronicles do not indicate the origins of the maternal ancestry of the dynasty, but power often passed from a male to his sister's son, and the "privileged" Tuareg tribes elected a king from the same family (such as Sataffane, a clan which may have come from the west). Thus, it is probably implied that all descend from the same family through their maternal ancestry from a specific clan. A similar pattern may be found with the frequency of queen mothers of the Sayfawa dynasty of Tubu, Tomaghera and "Keyi" origins, perhaps a reflection of marriage alliances between the Magumi clan and its nomadic allies. The Sayfawa mais also used the mahram to award certain nomadic allies with freedom of military obligations and taxations, a process the Agadez sultans may have approximated by not taxing affiliating Tuareg and deriving revenues from other sources.
What, if any relationship existed between the rulers of Agadez and the earlier 14th century Berber sultans of Air mentioned by al-Umari is unknown, just as possible influences from Kawkaw (Gao), Tadmakka, Gobir, and other polities in the region between Gao and Kanem-Borno probably impacted the development of Agadez to varying degrees. Nonetheless, the existence of two nearby dynasties of nomadic Saharan origins becoming an established kingdom in the Sahel, despite one being Berber, possibly followed similar trajectories. Kanem-Borno, on the other hand, seems to have developed into a more centralized and expansive state while Agadez, perhaps at its height under Mohammad-el-Mobarak and Mohammed Agabba, never completely dominated the various Tuareg clans and had to play them against each other or face dethronement and civil wars. Even after seizing control of the salt trade of Kawar from Borno in the 1700s, Agadez remained mired in civil wars and intra-Tuareg conflicts.
Moving on from the similarities and differences between Agadez and Kanem-Borno, we cannot omit a deeper mention of Manuscript J, the remarkable document that, if future investigations can verify, is a memoir of Abou-Bakar ben Attaher Tachi, a politically-connected Agadez man born in 1657. The document translated by Urvoy ends chronologically in 1699, but encompasses a number of events in the author's personal life and the noteworthy happenings to the state. Coming from an educated background and probably Tuareg lineage (an assumption on the preeminence of his paternal grandmother), Abou-Bakar was born only a few years after Mohammad-el-Mobarak became sultan. Although his mother died during his infancy, he also makes a point of referencing his grandmother Tachi's death as well as the demise of his father's sister in 1673. This year also marked an invasion or campaign against the state of Kebbi. The next year, Mohammad-el-Mobarak's son, Aknafai, went on his second pilgrimage to Mecca, almost certainly via the Fezzan and Tripoli.
According to Manuscript J, the powerful sultan then went to war with Borno in 1679, sending troops led by Mohammed ben el-hadj Ibrahim and Kel-Oui Tuaregs. This war, although the dates are slightly off, is probably the conflict mentioned by our French captive in Tripoli, who mentioned an attempt by Agadez to take the capital of Borno after internal revolts during Ali b. Umar's hajj. Defeated by Ali b. Umar, one wonders if a Borno source dated to c. 1658 by Palmer may actually be an allusion to Ali b. Umar's successes against Agadez. Perhaps the mention in the Borno source of the settlement of Borno scholars in Agadez afterwards, to spread Islam, may be a reference to a sort of tributary arrangement imposed on Agadez, even though Agadez was already an Islamic state. Further, our Frenchman in Tripoli wrote of Agadez "blacks" referring to Ali b. Umar with disdain as a "Cat King," mocking his reputed piety and saintliness. So, we are not sure what to make of the document translated by Palmer, but external sources definitely suggest an Agadez invasion of Borno and the seizure of Ali b. Umar's nephew, Medicon, who was sold into slavery in North Africa. A tense state of relations between "blacks" of Agadez and Borno in Tripoli continued after the conflict.
One must also note the contrast between Borno and Agadez during this time with regards to pilgrimage. Ali b. Umar could afford to travel on extended trips through the Sahara and Egypt to Mecca, taking some of his children with him. Mohammad-el-Mobarak, on the other hand, never seems to have left Agadez while one of his sons and perhaps other "Tuareg princes" could take the lengthy journey to the Arabian peninsula. We wonder if this is a reflection of the entrenched political instability of the Agadez polity, as Mohammad-el-Mobarak had to engage in campaigns against not only "Zanfara" and Ader, but act as mediator between Tuareg clans like the Kel-Oui and Itissines in 1683. Thus, even in an expansionist phase under Mohammed-el-Mobarak and his son, Mohammed Agabba, it would seem that the Agadez state was always more unstable and perhaps less centralized than Borno or the earlier Songhay state which once ruled Air.
Besides mentioning various military campaigns and political events that took place during his lifetime, Abou-Bakar's manuscript is full of rich personal details and reflects some of the social history. For instance, we know his work (perhaps a trader?) required him to travel frequently to Ader, where he sent supplies to Saleh, the brother Mohammad Agabba during a war with Gobir in 1689, the same year our author married Nana Aicha, the daughter of a haji from the Fezzan. One also finds reference to the death of a Timbuktu fiqh in Agadez, Umar-el-Tounbouktaouy, in 1687, attesting to long-established links between Timbuktu and Agadez that may indicate the city's political and religious standing in the Sahel. Through Manuscript J, one also finds additional references to epidemics, including a devastating one in 1687 in which several people perished, perhaps Mohammad-el-Mobarak himself. The fact that the sultan's death was hidden from the public is itself interesting, perhaps hinting at a struggle with the "king-making" privileged tribes and Mohammed Agabba. The Kel-Oui and Itissine wars in 1696 and the accompanying famine, which led to families selling their books to eat also suggests the degree to which feuding Tuareg clans and food insecurity imperiled the state. Indeed, the flood caused by heavy rainfall in 1699 probably didn't do any favors, causing the destruction of houses in the Imourdane quarter and destroying merchandise.
In short, Manuscript J is fascinating for a snippet of the life of a politically important man of Agadez during a key half-century in the history of the state. The personal was indeed political, and reflected Agadez's trade, cultural, and religious ties to other parts of the region and beyond. As a work akin to a memoir, it provides some fascinating tidbits of information that appear to support the larger narrative arc of the Agadez Chronicles. One only wishes a lengthier version of the manuscript existed, which could tell us more about Abou-Bakar and the world of Agadez in the early modern era. Like the mahrams of Borno and the autobiographical elements of Ahmad b. Furtu's chronicles, they sometimes include biographical data on people outside of the ruling dynasties. But who was the audience for Abou-Bakar b. Attaher Yachi? Presumably members of the royal court and perhaps ulama with political or familial (or both) ties with the elite?