Bori in Tunisia and al-Timbuktawi

Ismael Montana's study and translation of Hatk al-Sitr is an interesting study of the manifestation of the Bori cult in Ottoman Tunisia. Although, sadly, too brief of a treatise, al-Timbuktawi's biased yet provocative denunciation of the religion as shirk requiring state intervention to eradicate it and reenslave recalcitrant "Sudan Tunis" in the Regency is both disturbing and illustrative of West African jihadist intellectuals of the late 18th and early 19th century. To Montana, al-Timbuktawi's views and his intervention in the state of affairs in Tunis, through which he passed whilst performing the pilgrimage, represents an instance of West African Islamic intellectual currents and interactions with both Wahabbism and North Africa. 

Surprisingly, however, Montana did not fully explore the deeply misogynistic element of al-Timbuktawi's work, which sees Bori's threat to the Islamic state and society of Tunisia as particularly dangerous due to the role of its female priests, "lesbianism" and the local Tunisian women enthralled by this cult of ritual healing and polytheism. This gendered dimension is mentioned in terms of the prominent role played by women as ritual leaders and priestesses in Bori, but its gendered impact on local Tunisian society seems to us as particularly important, since it reflects both the misogyny of al-Timbuktawi (and probably many of the pro-jihad intellectuals in West Africa) and another aspect of the great role of women in Bori. 

We hope to read Tremearne's later account of Bori to gain deeper insights into this gendered dimension of the religion as well as its practice in both Hausaland and North Africa. Since al-Timbuktawi was mainly writing for the purpose of convincing the authorities in Tunis to suppress Bori, he does not cover in great detail the religion or the ethnic origins of its practitioners. Certainly, the Hausa influence is predominant based on some of the names and titles used in the cult (referring back to political titles in Borno or Hausa kingdoms, for instance, or using Hausa words). But, one wonders about the Bambara, Songhay, and Nupe mentioned by al-Timbuktawi. Indeed, if Bori in North Africa is similar to Gnawa in Morocco, one also wonders if a degree of syncretism was also emerging within West Africa itself due to the slave trade between the areas of the Niger Bend and the Central Sudan. For instance, were there "Bambara" and Songhay groups present in the Hausa kingdoms who introduced aspects of the Bamana boli and Songhay holey? And what of Hausa captives, Nupe and even Yoruba groups who may have also interacted with the ritual and theological facets of "indigenous" African religions in Hausaland? While some of the similarities with Vodun and Yoruba practice may be superficial, the prominence of animal sacrifice in specific rituals, spirit possession, and the ways in which Bori could coexist with Islam like Vodou and Yoruba religion with Catholicism have always struck us as areas worthy of further exploration.

Bélisaire and African Languages

Although he is occasionally problematic as a source and must be interpreted cautious, Mollien's Haïti ou Saint-Domingue includes a fascinating account of the "mulatto" rebel leader, Bélisaire. In the first tome of his work, Mollien described him as a mason who spoke several African languages. Indeed, his facility with African languages elucidates his success becoming a leader of slave rebels in the West of the colony of Saint-Domingue. Supposedly, he led a band that grew to be as many as 150, and he may have spoken Hausa, if Mollien is to be believed. Other sources, more reliable on this figure, include Thomas Madiou and Beaubrun Ardouin. According to Madiou, Bélisaire Bonnaire led his band of rebels in an African style, too. From Ardouin, we learn that Bélisaire was still around after the Haitian Revolution, loyal to Petion's Republic. If Mollien is correct about Bélisaire speaking Hausa, one wonders about the degree to which African languages spoken by smaller minorities of the African-born population were learned by others. And to what extent Bélisaire is exceptional among Creoles and people of color in learning African languages is another area worthy of exploration.

Descourtilz and the Africans of Saint-Domingue

The third tome of Michel Etienne Descourtilz's Voyages d'un naturaliste: et ses observations includes a fascinating essay entitled Essai sur les mœurs et coutumes des habitants de Guinée à Saint-Domingue. One of the few detailed accounts of African "nations" in the colony based on interviews and observations, Descourtilz's brief essay provides information and impressions on about 18 African "nations" in colonial Haiti, concluding with a longer chapter on Creoles which contrasts the natural simplicity of the Africans with Creole immorality. Sadly, some of the chapters are far too brief, while other chapters cover "nations" which are obscure or very difficult to identify. He also gathered his data from Africans and Creoles interrogated or observed in the area of Saint-Marc and Artibonite Valley, aided by an unnamed domestic presumably enlisted to make the Africans more comfortable. Of course, this means the Africans he wrote about may not have present in large numbers in other parts of the colony. Nonetheless, Descourtilz provides some of the few detailed descriptions of Mozambiques, Borno ("Beurnon"), and Fulanis (Islamic nomadic ones) in the colony. To our knowledge, Descourtilz was also the only one to write about the Dunkos, a group likely hailing from what is today northern Ghana. 

In the first chapter, on the Dunkos and Aradas, Descourtilz wrote admiringly of their features. Scarification is big, but the infamous practice of poisoning among the Arada occupies a large section of the chapter. One particularly infamous case involved an elderly Arada woman said to have killed 70 infants to prevent them from growing up as slaves in the colony! Then, Descourtilz wrote about the "Arada" king subject to ritual seclusion and customs, before a brief description of Arada religion. Noting the power of their priests, they also adored a variety of beings or Gods, including the Moon, water, and serpents. It is a little unclear who exactly these "Arada" were. Presumably they were not natives of the Porto-Novo kingdom of Arada, and like the Dunkos, represented a composite group. The "Dahomet" nation, however, appear to have been subjects of the Dahomey kingdom. Descourtilz's description fo the burial of Dahomey's kings and the sacrifice of captives seems to be accurate or at least partly based on reliable accounts. 

Fida Africans, the subject of the next chapter, presumably came from Ouidah (or were sold via Ouidah). Commenting negatively on their physical features, Descourtilz has little to say about them. Following Fida are the Essa blacks. Essa, a "nation" or ethnicity we could not identify, were known for worshipping their previous kings. They also embalmed the corpses of deceased and placed the bodies on a throne. Likewise, the Urba "nation" are difficult to identify. According to Descourtilz, they possessed a god named Brataoth. Their king was surrounded by magicians whose arbitrary judgements sometimes caused the unjust punishment of soldiers. Human sacrifice was also practiced after military defeat. However, at least one king of Urba converted to Christianity after speaking with a missionary, miraculously recovering from a a malady. This would imply Urba was probably located closer to the coast. 

Other nations are mentioned for their religious and theological views. For instance, the belief in the transmigration of souls was attributed to the Aminas and Ibos. A particularly depressing case of an Amina mother on the Desdunes plantation was said to have killed herself and her 2 sons out of a belief that after death, they would return to their country of origin. Naturally, due to his own political and racial biases, Descourtilz also praised Monsieur Desdunes as a benevolent master who treated his slaves like a father treats his children. In contrast with the horrifying suicides trigged by enslavement, Descourtilz also shared the positive story of a reunion of 2 Ibo lovers owned by M. Pelerin of Cayes Saint-Louis. Unfortunately, despite reproducing a song attributed to these two, Aza and Evahim, Descourtilz changed the melody. But it is still worthy of attention for its Creole lyrics, even if one would expect Aza and Evahim to have communicated in their Igbo lover when reunited across the Atlantic. 

Although we have discussed Descourtilz's chapter on Bornoans in Saint Domingue, they are worth mention again. A number of customs, practices, religious zeal, and gender relations are subjects of importance here. For instance, Descourtilz viewed Borno Africans as a nation in which women were submitted to men. This is interesting, given the high divorce rates among the Kanuri in the 20th century (which was probably the case in the 1800s and possibly the 1700s, too). One wonders if Descourtilz mainly or only had access to male informants from Borno, which may have exaggerated the degree to which women were subjugated. Nonetheless, it was clear that Islam was very influential in social relations and the attachment to books, prayer, and social conduct. No other Islamic nation were mentioned in Descourtilz's essay besides the Fulani. What is so confusing about this account of Borno is that a long anecdote about a corrupt African prince who killed a child for recreation and went unpunished, triggered a conflict with a pagan ruler that resulted in many of his "nation" being sold into slavery. Several of them ended up in Saint-Domingue, where the Rossignol-Desdunes plantation received many. If this prince was a Sayfawa maiwa, it would be interesting if any traditions or written sources can attest to his corrupt, violent behavior. This would match the sense in some sources that Borno in the 18th century had become corrupt and the Sayfawa were less able to control vassal chiefs and rulers. Also, assuming it is true, the Sayfawa rulers testing the morality of their subjects by leaving items in public spaces and using spies to capture any thieves for sale as slaves (plus their families) is an extreme measure. 

Surprisingly, 3 Gold Coast "nations" (Acra, Crepeens, Asante) are discussed separately from the Dunkos, who one would expect to have been somewhat more similar to them. Descourtilz praises their fishing talents while accurately acknowledging that they believed in a distant, Supreme Being. Because this Supreme Being is too distant, they worship a number of "fetishes" like the snake, or heron. Their prodigious memory similarly impressed Descourtilz, who noted they could easily refer to events or circumstances from long ago with surprising exactness. Unfortunately, for some of these nations and the subsequent chapters, the "nations" are either too ambiguous to identify or, in the case of the Congos, shockingly incomplete. For example, the Diabon were said to have sacrified strangers to their gods. For the Congos, we learn little. 

In the final chapters, on Vodou and Creoles, one sees the most detailed accounts of black culture in the colony. Relying in part on the testimony of an educated black woman named Finette, Descourtilz expresses familiarity with the Arada origin of the word, Vodou, as well as the Dom Pedre (Petro). Despite spilling much ink on the superstitions of the blacks and their beliefs in sorcery or the power of their idols, he draws from examples of cases of people falling ill after disputes with Vodou priests. Indeed, according to his source, Finette, Tousaint Louverture himself consulted a Vodou priest specializing in divination. According to this oracle, Tousaint was warned that his first chief, Dessalines, was to later betray him to the French. Vodou ritual leaders are even accused of abusing their power to receive extra food during a famine in the Artibonite region in 1803, using religion as a pretext to demand additional offerings that they consumed themselves or later sold. But it is in the ultimate chapter where one suspects Descourtilz's political and racial biases most mislead him. Creoles, according to him, suffered from feelings of enmity toward whites, were lazy, immoral, and cruel. Indeed, a particularly egregious case of a man who rejected his own mother led to Descourtilz writing to Toussaint Louverture to have the arrogant man punished for abandoning her. Even black mid-wives and medical practitioners were dismissed as ignorant and dangerous. In addition, Creoles did not raise their children properly, spoiling them in their youth so they were ill-prepared for their future life in the colony. If it isn't clear already, Descourtilz's own sentiments about the Haitian Revolution shaped his writings about the Creoles. 

Western Narratives of the Fang

Du Chaillu and Milligan provide accounts of the Fang from 1861 and 1912, respectively. In the half-century dividing the two men’s narratives, the Fang remain savages with a history of cannibalism, but Milligan’s description demonstrates a growing concern for evangelizing the African people. Soon, religion becomes the saving factor in Milligan’s account for the civilizing impact of European imperialism on the Fang. In the mid-19^th century, however, Du Chaillu shows no interest in Christianizing the Fang, preferring to exalt them into noble savages for his European and North American readership. Thus, the writings of Du Chaillu and Milligan illustrate a shift in Western perceptions of Africans in the mid-19^th century to one of scientific racism and imperialism, embedded with theological justifications for European imperialism.

Du Chaillu’s account, more comprehensive than Milligan’s, nevertheless shares racist sentiments with the latter. Both writers described the Fang as primitive peoples, but Du Chaillu’s romanticization of the Fang as, “Finer looking men I never saw…” because of the martial, fierce-looking fellows exemplifies his idealization of the Fang (Du Chaillu 110). The Fang are also referred to as “the finest, bravest-looking set of negroes I have seen in the interior…” (121).  These fine-looking Negroes, superior to the coastal societies familiar to the European traders, were feared by Du Chaillu to degenerate as a result of their southward migration, where they would become more like the aforementioned coastal peoples (121). The Fang, as interior peoples, are further removed from European contact and become noble savages, while the coastal societies with which they regularly traded with for centuries, were degenerate, immoral, and savage, despite their closer contact with Europeans, which contradicts White Supremacy since the African groups in more contact with Westerners would likely be the most civilized. In fact, Du Chaillu describes the Fang as the most promising people in all of Western Africa, especially for their stamina, unvarying hospitality, kindness, courage, and fierceness (129).

Milligan also uses racist discourse when describing the Fang, but does not idealize their pre-colonial past or suspected cultural practices such as cannibalism or the use of fetishes. Attributing the problem of cannibalism to a natural consequence of fetishism, the primary problem of the Fang, and Africans generally, African religious practices become the cause of their barbarity (Milligan 241). Thus, the shift from a more scientific and comprehensive look at the Fang from Du Chaillu’s somewhat fanciful and sensationalized writing begins to rely on Christianity to further justify European racism and imperialism simultaneously. Whereas Du Chaillu also described the African as “poor people leading dreadful and dreary lives,” and using primitive technology, despite their “considerable ingenuity in manufacting iron” (Du Chaillu 102 and 122), he never resorts to attributing Fang inferiority solely to their religious customs or race. Milligan praises Christianity’s effects for convincing the African to recognize Christ as the human ideal, and therefore see the divine origin and noble destiny of humanity instead of their degrading conception of man’s nature (Milligan 242).  The superstitious African, who consumes human flesh for fetish protection from enemies, will cease practicing cannibalism as soon as the Gospel becomes intelligible (243). Unfortunately, the African’s fetishism will not disappear immediately, since the grease from boiled human remains were smeared upon bodies for protection, according to Milligan (244). Regardless, the African receives the opportunity for moral transformation and the sanctity of human life because of colonialism and Christianity, while Du Chaillu, though racist himself, does not endeavor to identify the cause of Fang inferiority with African religion or race.

One must also note the different eras in which the two writers were engaged in to better understand their perceptions of Fang. Each never witnessed cannibalism, yet both Du Chaillu and Milligan assumed it was true, contradicting a European rational approach to knowledge and science because of their preconceived notions of African inferiority. Du Chaillu, however, seems to have been writing for geographical organization or secular White audience, since his account describes hunting, political institutions, food, music, trade, marriage, and weapons. Milligan’s emphasis on fetishes, religious life, and African religious deficiencies, as well the title, The Fetish Folk of West Africa, reveal a study focused on religion for Westerners in the early colonial period. For Milligan, Christianity is the salvation of Africa, and the thorough Europeanization in dress, religion, and morality will elevate the African to civilization. His contrast of a Christian woman of Gabon juxtaposed with a photograph of interior women sends that message quite clearly, since her European dress, and hair sharply differs from the naked interior women carrying cassava and firewood (246). Milligan’s purpose of writing about the Fang has a single purpose of highlighting the positive results of colonialism, as well as proving African inferiority.

Despite writing accounts in 1861 and 1912, both writers concur on African primitiveness and cultural deficiencies and the practice of cannibalism, even with the absence of eyewitness evidence. Milligan’s piece demonstrates a shift from the noble savage lens of Du Chaillu to a purely colonial, white supremacist gaze that came as a result of direct European conquest and rule. By 1912, the French had established themselves firmly in Gabon, and missionary activity had begun decades earlier, so the narrative of noble savages became less relevant politically because African backwardness needed to be depicted as poorly as possible to align with the proclaimed paternalist intentions of European imperialism. Hence, cannibalism remains a significant part of Milligan’s narrative, as well as African moral degradation.

Western Desert...

We were once fascinated by 9th and 10th century Arabic sources referring to an oasis route that was formerly full of Rum and Copts whilst also partaking in a trade network that stretched as far as Ghana and Kawkaw in West Africa. Whilst the Arab sources say the route was in use until the 860s, and was utilized by Egyptians and Nubians to reach Libya, the Magrib or the Sudan (the land of "blacks") to the southwest. Although other trade routes did replace the one banned by the Tulunids, we are interested in the history of pre-Islamic trans-Saharan trade that linked the Western Oases of Egypt to sub-Saharan Africa. The evidence for this is slim. And what we could find in archaeological studies is simply an urbanization in the area during Roman Rule, which subsequently declined by the 4th and 5th centuries. Thus, it is possible that the growth of towns in the Oases during Roman and Byzantine rule was merely linked to a regional trade network to Egypt, Nubia, and parts of today's Libya. However, Ibn Hawqal's 9th century description of the area does suggest travelers from Egypt and Nubia used a route through these oasis region before the Arab conquest. And even after the shift in routes and the decline of the oasis town of Srbuh, the area was described in the 11th century by al-Bakri as being linked to today's Siwa oasis. The Egyptian oases were still full of people, including Copts living in their own village or in mixed contexts. 

We wonder if, perhaps, this earlier desert that was discontinued by the Tulunids may have once connected Egypt (and Nubia) with the Fazzan and, by extension, further south with Kawar, Marandet, Gao, and Ghana. If true, this could have been another avenue for Christian traders to reach the central Sahara and Sudanic regions. Of course, the picture of decline in the region centuries before the Arab conquest makes this less plausible. But we find it interesting how Kawar was described as exporting alum, like some of the oasis towns in the Western Desert. Kawarian traders were also described as traveling to the east using a route through the northeast by the 12th century. The Garamantes and their related peoples in the Fazzan would have already been linked to Augila and other oases to the east before the Islamic period, and it is likely that Kawar was known to the Garamantes (perhaps for a trade in salt, slaves, ivory, and other commodities?). Also, the survival of Christian communities in the aforementioned Egyptian oases could have been another vector for Christian influences in Sudanic Africa during the Middle Ages. For instance, perhaps Qasr Umm Isa in Kawar was named because of Coptic and/or Nubian travelers and traders who reached the area? We lack adequate knowledge of what transpired in the area of Darfur and Wadai but it seems likely that a medieval Nubian presence was felt much further west than we realize. One could imagine Christian influences via Nubia and, perhaps, the Saharan route that led to Egypt via its western desert played a role here. And, furthermore, from Ibn Hawqal, we learn that the Abdun rulers of the Oases had been in conflict with Nubia. Perhaps that conflict in the 9th century favored a Nubian route further west through Kordofan and Darfur to reach the Maghrib or Fazzan.