Les coutumes familiales au Kanem

Alifa Zezerti

Les coutumes familiales au Kanem by Robert Bouillé is a dated colonial-era study of kinship and social organization in Kanem. Sometimes repetitive, the author focuses on the Kanembu, Buduma,  Fulani, Arab, and Tubu groups in Kanem. Each are distinct but similar, especially in terms of a patriarchal family structure in which wives and daughters were treated unequally. Nonetheless, the author believed that the ethnic diversity in Kanem and inter-ethnic antagonisms made French colonial rule more stable. However, as a strong proponent of rational and stable colonial administration, customary law and practices among Kanem's population required a gradual approach for reforming its population. This meant that slavery, or descendants of slaves, were still very much a part of communities while the Haddad remained an outsider group. Sometimes blood vengeance was still carried out by Tubu or Arab populations. However, with the changes introduced by colonial rule, youths were beginning to show more independence from patriarchal authority while some married women became somewhat more autonomous. Nonetheless, the portrait of the various peoples of Kanem is probably at least partially accurate for how the peoples of the region organized their communities in the 1800s and even earlier, in some instances.

In terms of the alifa based on Mao, Les coutumes familiales au Kanem is not the most detailed. Besides recounting how the French first signed a treaty with the alifa and the pacification of the province, hints of its political and economic structure are largely subdued. The current leader at Mao, Zezerti, was said to be from the Zegbada family. They were supposedly part of the Samarous tribe of its founder's name. His family group was closely aligned with the Mustafa family of Zegbadas who had apparently intermarried with them for around 2 centuries. Zezerti's mother was supposedly from this Mustafa family. Nonetheless, when comparing the genealogical information of the alifas from Landeroin's time to Bouillé, the former listed a "jagata Moustapha" who was the father of an alifa who must have resigned in the early 1800s, Ahmadou Kalli. However, there was an earlier alifa, Moutta Kinguimi, whose "proper" name may have been Moustapha. Is it possible that Zezerti and the Mustapha family represented one lineage group which only effectively occupied the throne in the 19th century, when conflicts between Waday and Borno over control of Kanem (and the Alwad Sulayman) rapidly transformed the political landscape of Kanem? Sadly, Landeroin's Notice historique has little to say about the alifas who reigned before the 19th century. A similar question might be raised about the possible religious status and authority of the alifas before the 20th century. Since Zezerti's grandfather had performed the pilgrimage to Mecca and was renowned for his baraka, Bouillé may have retroactively sought to elucidate this alleged religious/spiritual authority of the dynasty before Zezerti's grandfather in its origin. Intriguinly, Landeroin recorded that the father of Dala Afouno, the first alifa of Kanem, was a Mallam of Magoumi descent. Perhaps descent from an illustrious Islamic scholar or religious leader was part of the dynasty's legitimacy since its inception. 

In terms of Kanem before the fall of the Sayfawa, there are a number of possible hints to the influence of Kanuri groups who came to Kanem after the fall of the Bulala. For instance, the alifas appear to have set up a court with officials often using titles of Borno origin (some undoubtedly began when the Sayfawa ruled in Kanem). Their court also used a system of "fiefs" for some dignitaries and officials and relied on tribute of various types. During the period of Bornoan suzerainty, Kanem also had an institution called the Bit el mal, a sort of public fund that produced food for the poor, gifts to mallams, aided foreigners, and paid masons for building or maintaining mosques. Furthermore, a type of mutual aid practiced by farmers in Kanem, the debdou custom, allowed for Kanembus experiencing misfortune to receive presents of animals, clothes, grain, or money to help. The custom also featured dancing and drums. Whether or not this practice of mutual aid predated the period of the alifas in Mao is unclear, but Bouillé emphasized a Borno origin. 

It would be worthwhile to compare the description of Kanembu social and kinship patterns with those of Borno during the same time (or earlier). It may help establish certain patterns or trends which could have begun in Kanem during the medieval period and were maintained by the Kanuri in Borno. Similarly, it may help elucidate patterns of social change in Kanem under the Bulala and alifa rulers. Naturally, Kanem's landscape differed quite significantly from that of Borno and the region's growing aridity led to some parts being occupied mostly by nomadic groups. Nonetheless, a close examination of family structure, marital patterns, customary law, and land tenure systems could provide possible clues for earlier centuries in the annals of Kanem and Borno. For similar reasons, determining the origin of the Haddad and the interactions between Kanembu and Buduma populations may also shed light on how some aspects of the history of both regions diverged. 

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.

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.

Algeria: Colonialism and Race

Patricia Lorcin's Imperial Identities: Stereotyping, Prejudice and Race in Colonial Algeria is an interesting study of how colonialism shapes constructs of race in a North African context. Examining French colonial sources from 1830 onwards, Lorcin traces the rise and fall of the "Kabyle Myth" that divided the population of Algeria into two "racial" groups: savage and irredeemable Arabs and Kabyle Berbers who were seen as "white," more civilized because of their sedentary lifestyle, allegedly less devout Islamic practices, fewer restrictions on women, lower incidence of polygamy, and presumed origins among "white" peoples. This binary division of "good Kabyle" versus "bad Arab" collapsed with the rise of settler colonialism in Algeria, which, as Lorcin elucidates, led to a general stereotype and racial discrimination against all "native" Algerians by the end of the 19th century

Anti-Islamic sentiment among the French, the shift from military to civil administration, and white supremacist pseudoscience of the 19th century all contributed to the "Kabyle Myth." Kabyles, imagined by the French as "noble savages" and compared to Germanic tribes of the distant past, were assumed to be capable of elevation under French law and tutelage, ignored their Islamic devotion, and even applied Saint-Simonianism as the intellectual bedrock, according to Lorcin. Even physicians contributed to the racialization of Algerians, dividing Algerians into Kabyles and Arabs. Arabs, as pauperization under colonial rule progressed (including disastrous famine), were racialized as thieves, rapists, savages, lazy, stupid and considered unreliable. Racial discourse from the French even linked "beauty" to advanced civilizations, thereby labeling Arabs as physically unattractive while praising the alleged racial "purity" of the Berbers.

Lorcin's analysis also traces a colonial sentiment of France as a "New Rome" in North Africa and the Mediterranean. This form of neoclassical colonial development facilitated the rise of European settlers, who, as Europeans from lands once held by Rome, could be seen in a new light as proper heirs to the Roman Empire in North Africa. Orientalism and Arabophiles among the colonial intellectuals and administrations also shaped discourse on race, albeit always within the pro-colonial framework. The French association of the Kabyle Berbers with "whites" also played into this, and contributed to the problems and ethnic conflict in contemporary Algeria given the strong forms of Berber nationalism and violence in the Kabylie region. Although one might suppose its obvious, the importance of European colonialism in shaping local constructs of race or even creating and separating identities is quite powerful in the Algerian case, with drastic consequences here and other African nations after decolonisation.

Bornu Sahara and Sudan

Palmer's Bornu Sahara and Sudan was fun at first but quickly turned into a depressing chore. Unlike Sudanese Memoirs, which mostly consists of primary sources, this volume pounds on the reader on the head with the various unsubstantiated theories of Palmer on the origins of Kanem-Borno and African civilizations. As one would suspect, everything is connected to ancient Middle Eastern, Berber, Nubian, and Abyssinian migration or influences. Palmer, per usual, relies on questionable linguistic theories to connect these various influences which eventually led to the formation of Kanem and neighboring kingdoms in the precolonial era. 

After reading half the book, we decided to skim the remainder for interesting sources, information or changes in Palmer's translations of some local materials. For example, some of the mahrams appear to be translated differently in this work than Sudanese Memoirs, and one gets the impression that some of the Kanuri songs and girgams quoted in Bornu Sahara and Sudan were not included in the previous work. However, for Palmer's version of the Diwan and some of the speculative theories on particular mais in the Sayfawa dynasty, one should still consult this work. 

Just keep in mind that it's not always clear where Palmer derived his information and some of the translations could be shoddy and misleading, especially when tied to his penchant for random linguistic connections. For instance, his theory connecting the name "Organa" for Kanem in medieval European maps is almost certainly incorrect, just as most of his work reflects the Hamitic Hypothesis and its hyperdiffusionist perspective. 

Borno in the Rabih Years

Although our primary area of interest in Kanem-Borno lies in the Sayfawa dynasty, one cannot ignore the tumultuous late 19th century in Borno history. The Sudanese military leader Rabih was able to conquer a weakened Borno under Shehu Hashimi and pave the way for European colonial conquest of the region, thereby depriving Borno of a possible third dynasty and dividing the region into spheres of British, French, and German imperialism. Kyari Mohammad's Borno in the Rabih years, 1893-1901: The Rise and Crash of a Predatory State remains an important study of the conquest and short-lived state established by Rabih. 

The reign of Shehu Umar and his successors proved to be an unstable era in Borno. The al-Kanemi dynasty proved itself unable to adapt or bridge the gap between the aristocracy and the rest of the population. Divisions within the ruling class, excessive tax burdens on the peasantry, and unpopular leaders who were easily defeated by Rabih's disciplined, modern forces reveal how weak Borno was by the end of the 1800s. This decline and economic downtown was inherited by Rabih's brutal conquest, with its negative demographic impact, scorched earth tactics, and repressive measures. Rabih's "military dictatorship" further weakened the economy, agriculture, trans-Saharan and regional trade, and almost appears to have been doomed to fail. That the Shehus were unable to mount a real resistance and were only restored by European colonial support exhibits how weak and ineffective the al-Kanemi dynasty had become. And the fact that Rabih failed to establish a state but recycled the old fief system and had failed in nearly all his major diplomatic and economic initiatives illustrates the decline of Borno as a major power in the region. 

One is almost tempted to think back to the Sayfawa dynasty in the beginning of the century, who had to rely on al-Kanemi to drive the Fulani jihadists out. Yet the decline of the Sayfawa in the early 19th century does not appear to have been as severe as that of the Shehus of Kukawa. Nonetheless, it would be interesting to further explore the dynastic changes in 19th century Borno to trace the possible antecedence of the political turmoil, social dislocation and political decline that caused the kingdom to lose its position as the preeminent power of the Central Sudan. For instance, to what extent was the "peasant revolt" of the Manga in the 1820s similar to the failed movement of Mallam Abu Gantur's resistance to Rabih in the 1890s? Or peasant resistance to the excessive taxation of Shehu Bukar in 1883? Was the "contract" between rulers and ruled already so weak from the early 19th century conflicts or Sayfawa decline in the 18th century?

Borno's Borders

Although Hiribarren's A History of Borno: Trans-Saharan African Empire to Failing Nigerian State was not what we expected, it was an engaging analysis of how the territoriality and spatiality of 19th century Borno was adopted, recycled, adapted, and maintained by Rabih and the subsequent European colonial powers who "scrambled" for the Lake Chad Region (Britain, Germany, and France). The colonial and postcolonial borders of Borno, despite deviating from the actual borders of the 19th century state, were nonetheless the basis for how the British, Germans, and French carved up the region and, in the case of British Borno, implemented indirect rule through the institutions of the al-Kanemi Shehu government that they restored. Intriguingly, Hiribarren proposes some theories for why Borno played an important role in Nigeria's borders and internal states, possibly due to the Kanuri being an ethnic minority and having a recognized ancient history that could both be factors supporting the Nigerian state. 

However, the most interesting chapter is actually the fifth, which contextualizes the production of knowledge in colonial Borno through the essays and publications of British officials  and their local informants/collaborators. Due to the paucity of sources on the indigenous co-producers of knowledge, the chapter is speculative yet undoubtedly illustrates how colonial rule in Borno was aided and abetted by historical and anthropological knowledge on the Kanuri people and the sense in which Borno, as an ancient state in the region, could be appropriated by the British who saw themselves as the next great empire in the region. Our dear friend Palmer emerges here, and he clearly benefited professionally or politically from his outdated research on Borno's past through promotions up the ranks of colonial administration. 

What would be interesting for a fuller picture of colonial/colonialist historians of Borno and their reliance on local informants is a look at French scholars in Chad or Niger who also collected oral sources and data on Kanem-Borno's long history. We're thinking of Yves Urvoy for the most part, but a look at how Kanuri, Kanembu and other groups in today's Chad and Niger were also shaping Urvoy or other French scholarship on Kanem-Borno would be interesting for ways in which they too created a feedback loop or were in turn used for political legitimizing. From reading Yves Urvoy, one gets the impression that the French colonial-era scholars were also influenced by the legacy of ancient Rome, medieval Europe, and the ubiquitous Hamitic Hypothesis.