Showing posts with label Ali b. al-Hajj Dunama. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Ali b. al-Hajj Dunama. Show all posts

7/30/26

Karabiwa Mallams of Borno

The Shettima Bello manuscript in John Lavers, "Biography, the ulama and an example of protest in eighteenth century Borno,' in Northwestern University Program of African Studies (1984) Papers of the Conference on Islam in Africa: the Changing Role of the ’Ulama : March 28-31, 1984, Evanston, IL.

It is a tragedy that the essays and papers of John Lavers were not compiled and published posthumously. Some of his work touched upon areas of Borno history that are difficult to research outside the often inaccessible local Borno and Nigerian academic literature (especially unpublished theses by local and Nigerian historians). One such topic is the story of a Sufi community that developed in Borno during the 18th century. Called the Karabiwa Mallams by Lavers, who acknowledged that the name was an exonym derived from the distinct animal skin clothing or garments worn by members of the sect, they are a case in point. Lavers wrote extensively about the group in two papers for different conferences in the 1980s. The first, "Biography, the ulama and an example of protest in eighteenth century Borno' was in 1984. A subsequent essay on Sufi communities in the 17th and 18th centuries was "Two Sufi Communities in Seventeenth and Eighteenth Century Borno" for the Workshop on Sufism in Africa in the Seventeenth and Eighteenth Centuries at SOAS in 1987. Outside these two conference papers, we have not encountered any academic literature specifically on this Sufi community or sect.

The Karabiwa Mallams were observed by colonial-era officials as a small sect or group who limited their communication with the outside world. Eager for more knowledge on this group, H.R. Palmer requested a report on them that was partly translated by Butcher, another colonial official. In addition to a manuscript from Shettima Bello, who saw the Karabiwa Mallams as an unorthodox group, the son of the shaykh of the group also supplied information and a girgam. Unfortunately, Butcher did not provide a complete translation of the girgam, omitting what he thought were extracts from the Quran. Lavers suggested this could have been relevant information recorded in Arabic for prayers or the belief system of the Sufi group. Nonetheless, this local informant, named Mallam Sharif, claimed to have been the great-great-grandson of the Arab founder of the sect and offered information that contradicted Shettima Bello. Yet Lavers raised the question of the girgam for the sect actually being a silsila, particularly as it shares names with the silsila documented by Rinn, including the name Abd al-Qadir al-Jailani. Thus, the girgam may point to broader ties with North African Sufi traditions and the Qadiriyya. 

So, what can we say about the Karabiwa Mallams? According to these aforementioned sources, they were originally from the town or village of Bagara but followed a man Shettima Bello accused them of turning into a prophet. The sect arose during the days of Gazargamo in the reign of Ali b. al-Hajji, likely Ali b. al-Hajj Dunama (r. 1747-1792). If Mallam Sharif, the informant to Butcher, was the great-great-grandson of the founder, and born in the late 1800s or beginning of the 20th century, then one can see the group's origins likely beginning in the 1700s. Where things become complicated is the identity of the founder and his affiliations with the broader Sufi currents in Borno and the Central Sudan. According to Shettima Bello, the initial founder of the sect was a Kanuri named Mallam Wasirima, "who claimed to be a Prophet." But Lavers has pointed out that the name Wasirima may be linked to the Kanuri term for North Africans, wasiri. If so, then the founder, identified as Ahmad al-Mabruk by Mallam Sharif and in one document cited in Brenner's field notes, was likely of North African and of Arab origin. Indeed, Mallam Sharif reported that his ancestor was a "pure Arab" with white skin and a Qurayshite origin. He allegedly came to Borno from Kanem with followers. If Mallam Sharif was dependable, then the Karabiwa Mallams were an ascetic Sufi group founded by an Arab of North African origin who came to Borno from Kanem in the 1700s, perhaps as part of the broader currents of Kanembu and Shuwa Arab migration to Borno in the same century.

What is known of the group after establishing itself in Borno during the 1700s? Per Lavers, the group first settled in Bagara, in the territory of the Mobber along the Komadugu. They later moved to Karabiri in the Gazir (capital) district of Borno, probably with state permission from the Sayfawa. According to tradition, it was only in Karabiri where the group began to wear distinct dress, after a great famine in late Birni times. Here the reference to a great famine may be an allusion to a period of prolonged famine and drought in Borno from c. 1738-1753. The Diwan also referred to a great famine during the reign of Dunama Gana (c. 1744-1747) during this period. Alternatively, another famine may have been the one in question, one described by Ali Eisami and occurring in c. 1792. But if the group only came to Borno during the reign of Ali b. al-Hajj Dunama, which began in c. 1747, the famine in question may have been the one in c. 1792, near the end of the reign of this particular mai. Also, as indicated by Lavers, the group likely received state permission or support for building its settlement at Karabiri near Gazargamo. This means the group's orthodoxy had been accepted after an earlier attack against it from the mai. Perhaps like the attack on the first Kalumbardo by Umar b. Idris in the 17th century, Ali b. al-Hajj Dunama was worried about the ascetic group's growth and influence on the surrounding population, so he launched an attack which scattered them before they regrouped. 

What was the fate of the group, after its initial persecution by Ali b. al-Hajj Dunama and later acceptance or state recognition? The group left after the jihad which assaulted Birni Gazargamo in c. 1808, regrouping at Yale Garuwa in Konduga. Then, in c. 1816, the group was perceived as a political threat by al-Kanemi. Consequently, they moved to Gobo in the Sokoto Caliphate, residing there for about ten years. They then returned to Borno in 1826, settling at Yaleri Kurnawa until 1840. They subsequently moved to a new settlement named after their shaykh, Shehu Tari. From there, the group spread to Mandara, settling in Madaway. Some later returned to Karabiwa and other past villages, too. Their shaykh, however, remained at Madawaya and expected his followers to visit him at least once per year there. 

One recurring pattern in the history of the Karabiwa Mallams is the perception of the group as a political threat to established authority. In Sayfawa times, the group's asceticism, popular following, and possible accusations of unorthodox practices made them a target for state violence. Indeed, Shettima Bello described the group as becoming known and large, so Ali b. al-Hajj Dunama raided their community. This suggests that the group's leader, or shaykh, was charismatic, attracted followers and chose not to integrate within the state apparatus as a court-aligned member of the ulama, all issues of concern to the Sayfawa ruler. After all, the Sayfawa maiwa considered themselves as proponents of Islam, religious orthodoxy and supporters of Islamic scholarship and piety as part of their political legitimacy. That Ali b. al-Hajj Dunama actually attacked the community, thereby leading to their dispersion, proves that he perceived them as a political threat to the established order. 

But, to what extent was the group or sect unorthodox and distinct from the rest of Bornoan society? Lavers pointed out that the group's desire to cut itself from the mainstream of society was part of a challenge to the status quo of the era, what we like to refer to as the Late Sayfawa Period. In this period, when the systems in place were under pressure and a drought, famine, population displacements, and the eventual jihad of Uthman dan Fodio changed the political landscape of the Central Sudan, the Sayfawa struggled to successfully meet the challenges of their changing times. In terms of their actual practices and beliefs, the Karabiwa Mallams do not appear quite so distinctive or unique. The group did accept outsiders who agreed to undergo ceremonial purification and promised not to divulge the secrets of the group. On the other hand, they were largely endogamous and restricted their communication with outsiders. The group also practiced an extreme form of khalwa in which members prayed in tunnels or holes dug in the ground for 40 days, subsisting on flour and water. Their supposedly singular way of dressing, with cotton for the upper garment and animal skins for the lower garments, was also reminiscent of the way al-Barnawi's followers dressed at the second Kalumbardo in the 17th century. Presumably, the group's penchant for secrecy and decision to broadly isolate themselves from the rest of society made them seem more extreme. By not allowing members to marry outsiders, for instance, they were clearly attempting to build a separate community. Moreover, members were prohibited from consumption of meat prepared in the standard Islamic way, suggestive of yet another distinctive practice through different dietary practices or interpretations of Islamic law.

Of course, the acceptance of the group through likely state permission to settle at Karabiri in Sayfawa times, the group's presence in the Sokoto Caliphate for about a decade, and their eventual return to Borno suggest they were in alignment with the central tenets of Islam. Thus, their unique practices of khalwa, secrecy, endogamy, and choice to limit communication with the rest of society were ultimately seen as acceptable by the rulers of Borno. And in some respects, their apparently unique practices were actually similar to that of other ascetic Sufi groups in Borno. For instance, the second Kalumbardo settlement of al-Barnawi practiced a severe form of khalwa. Comparisons with the followers of Sidi Mahmud al-Baghdadi in Aïr may also be illustrative of broader patterns of Sufi networks within the Central Sudan. That the group was initially targeted by state violence speaks to the broader political climate of Borno during the lengthy reign of Ali b. al-Hajj Dunama and the turbulent 18th century. Integrating this episode within that broader context of political, ideological, and social change or conflict generates many questions about the era of decline in the Sayfawa dynasty and Sufism in Borno.

12/12/25

Borno's Failed Mandara Campaign (1781): Ungwa-a-Mufaka

A map of Mandara in the early 18th century by Barkindo (The Sultanate of Mandara to 1902).

One particularly interesting textual source on the history of Borno in the 18th century was written in 19th century Mandara. A kirgam written in Arabic decades after a war in which Borno forces were defeated by Mandara, the text is both fascinating and problematic. It nonetheless offers one of the few descriptions of the physical appearance of Ali b. al-Hajj Dunama (r. 1747-1792). It's also one of the few written sources on Borno's disastrous defeat outside Doulo that is dated to the period before the colonial era. Indeed, the defeat in many ways encapsulates Borno's declining fortunes in what we like to call the Late Sayfawa Period (1715-1808, or 1715-1846). This period saw Borno's loss of the lucrative salt trade from Bilma, growing independence of Bedde communities, Gobir's refusal to render tribute, a long drought, Wadai's incursions into Kanem from the east, and the truly calamitous fall of Birni Gazargamo to forces aligned with the jihad of Uthman dan Fodio. Consequently, Borno's defeat by the hands of Mandara, despite mustering what the sources suggest was an enormous army (including cavalry and firearms), is worthy of historical inquiry for understanding the Sayfawa's gradual loss of paramount status in the Central Sudan. In order to address this conflict, the Ungwa-a-Mufaka is an essential source.

Written during the reign of May Iliayassa (1845-1858) of Mandara, the  Ungwa-a-Mufaka was translated into French in Eldridge Mohammadou's Le royaume de Wandala ou Mandara au XIXè siècle. Though written many years after the conflict, dated to 1196 AH, the kirgam cites a number of eye-witness testimonies. For instance, the future prince, Boukar Adjama, was one witness  (60). Another, Oumata Nadji, was cited for a description of the physical appearance of Ali b. al-Hajj Dunama on page 62: 

C'était un homme d'une taille impressionante. Son teint était clair et lui donnait l'apparence d'un Arabe Chouwa. Il avait une grosse tête, des yeux aux globes très blancs mais qui devinrent toutes rouges lorsqu'il monta en selle. S'élancent dans les rangs de son armée, il se mit à exhorter ses hommes d'une voix si puissante que les veines de son cou enflèrent et qu'on put les distinguer nettement à distance. 

Besides the eyewitness reports, the kirgam also quotes letters exchanged between Ali b. al-Hajj Dunama and the king of Mandara, May Bladi. Since it is far more likely that the conflict between the two states happened during the reign of Bladi's successor, Bukar-a-Jama, the kirgam must be interpreted carefully. Nonetheless, the access of the chronicle's author to Mandara elites who were present during the war and possibly correspondence between the Sayfawa mai and Mandara's king, the source presents a plausible account for Mandara's victory. 

A map of Mandara at its territorial zenith (Barkindo).

So, what does the chronicle actually tell us of the conflict? According to this source, the war began after a Shuwa Arab went to Gazargamo and reported to the Sayfawa mai the resources of Mandara. This Arab had lived in Mandara before moving to Borno, thereby making him an informed observer of Mandara's political, economic and geographical conditions. The ruler of Borno, hearing abou this, developed an interest in seizing Mandara, eliminating Mandara's king and dignitaries, and reducing its people to slavery (44). Subsequently, Borno sent its emissary, Katouri b. Boukar, to Mandara with a letter from the mai. This first correspondence compared the mai to a lion or cat while belittling Mandara's king as a chicken or hare. The implied threat clearly stated his hostile intentions: "Ceci je te le dis pour que tu sois informé et que tu puisse méditer sur la conduite, et les conseils les plus opportuns à prodiguer à  ton peuple" (45). Thus, the conflict was presented as one of Borno initiating conflict and declaring hostile intent through letters. The use of the written word to exchange messages between kings in the Central Sudan was also evident in the letters sent by the Bulala and Sayfawa during the conflict in Idris b. Ali's reign (1564-1596). To what extent the conflict was fully instigated by Borno is unclear, but it is difficult to imagine Borno launching a major expedition against a kingdom merely out of a desire for booty and conquest, particularly due to the problems on many other fronts that must have occupied the court's attention. In that light, it is better to understand the conflict as caused by Mandara's assertion of dominance over some of Borno's southern tributaries during the 1770s and early 1780s, as suggested by Barkindo. 

In order to prevent the war, Mandara's king allegedly sent many letters, gifts, money and slaves. The first response included 3000 thalers, 1000 slaves, 100 horses and a promise of tribute (48). Borno's Ali b. al-Hajj Dunama, however, refused to accept this. Indeed, he went as far as imprisoning and later ordering the punishment of a member of his court who urged peace (49). Unsurprisingly, Borno's second letter pledged to invade Mandara. A numerous army consisting of cavalry, archers, spearmen, shield carriers, and men armed with firearms began the march toward Mandara (50). Despite this invasion, Mandara's king continued to attempt a peaceful resolution by sending gifts and money with his letters. Indeed, the kirgam gives an exceedingly high number of 32 letters sent by Mandara to stop the Borno invasion (41). Nonetheless, these repeated peaceful overtures fail despite the Mandara king's message, "Nous mettons entièrement à ta disposition et attendons tes ordres pour les exécuter. Tous tes désirs seront les nôtres" (52). The dream of a Mandara marabout is even mentioned, probably to symbolize the imminent attack from Borno against the capital.

Since the chronicle emphasizes the numerous attempts by Mandara to avoid military conflict, it also highlights the immoral or unjust nature of Borno. For example, Ali b. al-Hajj Dunama's imprisonment of a member of his court for speaking against the war serves to highlight his injustice. Another episode, even more alarming, emphasizes the immoral actions of a Sayfawa prince. Named Yarnam, the prince stayed at Karangou with a man named Ali Ayssami. In addition to being fed by his host, Yarnam demanded payment and later raped his host's wife and daughter. When Ayssami sought redress from the mai, he did nothing (57). This episode is yet another instance in which the cause of the Sayfawa was unjust and immoral. That Borno would go to war against another Muslim kingdom who sought peace was also an argument in favor of Borno's immoral war.

Returning to the chronicle suggests Borno's forces took about 18 days to reach Doulo, the Mandara capital. Along the way, thousands of soldiers joined the campaign and various villages of Mandara were sacked or pillaged (56). Once outside Doulo, a kaigama, named Ali Madjounoun, leading Borno's forces, was instructed by Ali b. al-Hajj Dunama to attack, seize the palace and prevent the enemy from fleeing into the mountains (55-56). This suggests that the Bornoan army was very familiar with the mountainous terrain favoring Mandara. While this was happening, Mandara, which apparently had scouts or spies informing their court of the Borno army's movements, had carefully prepared for their defense. The king planned specific areas for his troops to strike (60). Their careful planning paid off despite being outnumbered by the invading forces. Indeed, they were successful enough since the kaigama was taken captive. When he refused to serve Mandara, he was executed (61). As the battle continued, ultimately lasting from noon until sunset, the mai led the Bornoan forces, exhorting them to fight while mounted on his horse. But, the Bornoan forces began to retreat, losing all semblance of order as Mandara soldiers pursued them (63-64). During this chaotic retreat, many Borno troops were seized and their weapons, valuables, horses, and persons were taken. 

Meanwhile, Ali b. al-Hajj Dunama continued to retreat on horseback as Mandara soldiers chased after him. They apparently let him escape as the night progressed, but they managed to seize the person carrying his scepter (64). The chronicle suggests that the Mandara troops, being simple soldiers, were hesitant to directly attack the king of Borno due to the "sacred person" of a king, even an enemy (64). That characterization, however, is contradicted by Borno traditions, which mention Ali b. al-Hajj receiving a wound in this war (Landeroin 399). Perhaps this attempt by the Mandara chronicle was meant to minimize the idea of soldiers attacking kings to maintain status distinctions and power relations? Regardless, the Mandara campaign was an utter disaster for Borno. Many troops were lost, horses, weapons, and soldiers were seized, and Mandara likely continued to intrude upon Borno's southern tributaries. While the kirgam states only 180 Mandara elites were killed and 35 disappeared, the casualties of the rank and file are not known (but probably very large) to the chronicler (65).

Ultimately, the Ungwa-a-Mufaka is a precious source for contextualizing one of the military defeats in the Late Sayfawa Period. Although obviously biased and perhaps too eager to portray the ruler of Mandara as entirely blameless, the kirgam provides some much-needed context on the affair. It provides a physical description of the mai and some insights into the nature of Late Sayfawa Period military and political thinking of this era. Without the Bornoan perspective as can be reconstructed in the works of al-Tahir al-Fellati, one must use the Mandara kirgam and oral traditions. The benefit of the chronicle is in quoting the testimony of those actually present when the war took place in 1781. Hopefully the other textual sources on this episode will be published or studied for further insights into its causes. Lastly, one should consider the 19th century date for the kirgam and the possible impact of the jihad on delegitimizing the Sayfawa in some quarters. This could be a relevant factor for understanding the kirgam's portrayal of the mai as an oppressive king.

Bibliography

Barkindo, Bawura M. The Sultanate of Mandara to 1902: History of the Evolution, Development, and Collapse of a Central Sudanese Kingdom. Stuttgart : F. Steiner, 1989.

Mohammadou, Eldrige. Le Royaume du Wandala ou Mandara au XIXe siècle. Tokyo: Institute for the study of languages and cultures of Asia and Africa, 1982.

Tilho, Jean (editor). Documents scientifiques de la Mission Tilho. Paris: Imprimerie Nationale, 1910.