Fasama the Magira

A photograph of a magira of Borno from Palmer's Bornu Sahara and Sudan. 

The magira was an important position in Borno and Kanem probably since its inception as a state. Sometimes translated as Queen Mother, the title was occupied by a senior woman who was not necessarily the mother of the reigning mai. According to Studies in the History of Pre-Colonial Borno, the magira held the most number of fiefs in the royal family (106). To what extent this was true in Kanem is unclear, but it is probable that she controlled vast resources and exerted much influence. Indeed, the frequency with which mothers of the mai are listed in the Diwan and their ethnic origins may be a clue to both the significance of marriage alliances as well as the power some of these women likely held as magira or gumsu (first wife) of the mai.

Given the great power and influence these women appear to have held, a second look at Fasami (Barth's spelling in Travels and discoveries in North and Central Africa) is worthwhile. In terms of women remembered in the early annals of the Sayfawa dynasty, it is possible that Fasami, or Fasama in Palmer's orthography (Bornu Sahara and Sudan), was an important figure in at least 2, perhaps 3 reigns: Dunama b. Hummay (r. 1086-1140), Bir b. Dunama (r. 1140-1166) and possibly the reign of Abd Allah Bakuru (or Bakaru, Lange uses both spellings), c. 1166-1182. According to Lange, whose chronology we usually follow since it has remained unsurpassed, argued that there were two women named F. Sama, each one the daughter of a man named S.karam (Lange 70). However, we find that less likely than the alternative: a single woman named F. Sama, or Fasama/Fasami who was the mother of Biri (Lange prefers Bir) b. Dunama and grandmother of Abd Allah Bakuru. In fact, H.R. Palmer recognized this in his reproduction and study of the Diwan in Bornu Sahara and Sudan (91). This view is more likely given the repetition of the same names, unless a mistake was made by the copyists. However, Palmer also interpreted the name of Fasama's father as a title, which is an assumption without sufficient evidence. For proof, Palmer speculates that Sakarama is an old rendering of Zigina, pronounced in modern times as Chikama (167). Of course, it is also possible that the father of Fasama was simply being named, and not remembered with a title. 

In addition to mentioning a woman named Fasama with the same name in connection with two reigns, the Diwan refers to Fasama as the gumsu during the reign of Biri b. Dunama. This may be the cause of the confusion regarding the possible existence of two different women named Fasama in the 12th century who happen to have a father with the same name. Lange reasonably interprets this as a sign of a woman named Fasama who was the first wife of Biri b. Dunama (Lange 70). However, according to the same source, Biri b. Dunama had been imprisoned for a year by his mother, also named Fasama, for violating Islamic law after executing a thief (Lange 69). It is more likely that the annalists of the Diwan referred to her as gumsu in reference to her being a chief wife of the father of Biri b. Dunama. 

Indeed, the visit of Abd Allah Bakuru and his brother, Bitku, to Fasama as children seems more appropriate if she was his grandmother. After all, visiting the chief wife of Biri probably would not have required traveling away from the royal court at Njimi, since the visit was alleged to have taken place at a place called Khayr.k.r.s.mu. If the gumsu had major responsibilities like taking care of the princesses and helping to manage the royal family, one would expect her to be based at Njimi. The prince Abd Allah Bakuru would hardly have needed to travel elsewhere to see her.

If we are correct about Fasama being the mother of Biri b. Dunama and grandmother of Abd Allah Bakuru, this provides an example of a powerful woman in the early annals of the Sayfawa dynasty. Since Dunama b. Hummay was said to have drowned in the Red Sea due to Egyptian treachery, one may suspect that the transition of power in Kanem may have been a difficult one. It is possible Biri b. Dunama came to the throne at a young age and his mother, Fasama, may have been a regent or someone who helped him administer the kingdom. This could explain the story in the Diwan of a (young) Biri executing a thief, an unjust and extreme measure. However, this story contrasts with Ahmad b. Furtu's description of Biri b. Dunama as a learned and pious ruler. According to Ahmad b. Furtu's account of Idris b. Ali's Kanem campaigns in the 1570s, "On the Friday Sultan Hajj Idris also came to Gamtilo, which is the town where the learned and God-fearing Sultan Biri ibn Dunama died" (Palmer 28). The memory of Biri ibn Dunama as an ancestor of Idris b. Ali who was pious and learned led to the party reciting from the Koran and praying at Gamtilo. If this memory of Biri b. Dunama from the 1570s suggests a pious and devout Muslim ruler, the story in the Diwan might be recording a youthful mistake. Thus, Biri b. Dunama's punishment by his mother, Fasama, was likely due to her role in helping her young child rule the country and protect his legitimate claim to the throne. 

Remi Dewiere's Du lac Tchad a la Mecque includes a number of useful maps depicting areas in Kanem visited by the forces of Idris b. Ali of Borno in the 1570s. The mai stopped at Gamtilo, where Biri b. Dunama died, to pray and seek merit. In addition, Fifisa, the probable town where Abd Allah Bakuru died, can be seen. His father died at Gamtilo, which was also southeast of Njimi. This region was also part of the dense network of fired brick ruins in central Kanem, as well as the mosque of Armi considered important enough to be visited by Ahmad b. Furtu during the 1570s. Construction of enclosures or structures with fired brick began in this area as early as the 1100s.

Of course, our theory lacks corroborating evidence. No Egyptian sources, for instance, have surfaced which could corroborate the death of Dunama b. Hummay in Egypt. Nonetheless, it is possible he did die abroad, possibly in or near Egypt due to fears and concerns in Fatimid Egypt about the black soldiers. Evidence from the 17th century suggests a fear on the part of the Pasha of Tripoli in 1655 to let Ali b. Umar into the city, where many of his subjects were enslaved since he would have to liberate them (Dewiere). Is it possible that a large percentage of the black soldiers of Fatimid Egypt came from Kanem or nearby regions? This might explain the fear of the Egyptians of Dunama b. Hummay, who was said to have settled hundreds of slaves in Egypt. He may have been viewed as someone who would pressure Fatimid Egypt to consider freeing other slaves from his domains. This train of thought, naturally, is very speculative, but even if Dunama b. Hummay did not perform the pilgrimage and die in the Red Sea, it is possible that the succession after his death was an arduous one in which Biri b. Dunama may have been young when he acceded to the throne. In fact, it may also have been a moment for the Kay (Kai, or Koyam) to reassert their link to the Sayfawa since the mother of Hummay was said to have been a Kay (Lange 68). 

Besides her possible importance as a figure who helped consolidate the rule of Biri b. Dunama b. Hummay, Fasama was also still an important figure during the childhood of Abd Allah Bakuru, the son of Biri. According to the Diwan, the young maina and his brother both received 100 camels from Fasama (Lange 70). This was even the origin of his name, according to the Diwan. While the brief anecdote only hints at her influence at this point, the fact that she could easily give away 200 camels suggests ownership or access to many resources. Furthermore, external Arabic sources from the 12th century assert that wealth in Kanem, particularly Manan, was in camels and goats (Hopkins & Levtzion 114). Besides al-Idrisi, an earlier account by al-Muhallabi from the 10th century refers to the wealth of the rulers of Kanem being in livestock, such as sheep, cattle, camels and horses (Hopkins & Levtzion 171). It is likely that camel herds were one of the major sources of wealth for their use in transportation, milk, hair, and meat, so Fasama's vast numbers of camels suggest the magira at this time controlled resources and may have received large fiefs at this time. By the 17th century at least, the magira of Borno held tremendous amounts of captives and influence, enough for Ali b. Umar to inherit thousands (Palmer 34). Additional support for the far-flung domains and wealth of the magira can be found in Kanuri praise songs, too.

Unfortunately, it is unclear if Fasama lived into the reign of her grandson. But, even if she had died before he took the throne in c.1162, the close ties between Kawar and Kanem during the reign of Abd Allah Bakuru may provide evidence of her possible Kawar roots. According to the mahrams attributed to his reign and published in Palmer's Bornu Sahara and Sudan, the ruler of Kanem was a protector of the Kawar leaders. He also mediated in their conflict with the Tuareg of Ayar (for more, see here). This relationship with Kawar definitely predated the late 12th century, and the Banu Kay or Kay may have already been established in Dirku before the time of mai Bulu (reigned c.1007-1023). In fact, the Diwan also tells us that Arku settled 300 slaves at Dirku (Lange 67). Additional evidence of trade and perhaps cultural influence can be detected in descriptions of pre-Islamic Kanem kings dressed in woolen clothes, like the people of Kawar (Hopkins & Levtzion 171). It is probable that close ties between the rulers of Kanem and Kawar, which included Kay at both sites, might have linked Abd Allah Bakuru to the people of Dirku by ancestry and economic interests. Certainly, by the time of Dunama Dibalemi, a grandson  of this mai, Kawar was one of the domains of Kanem (Hopkins & Levtzion 188). Indeed, Dunama Dibalemi may have been a descendant of Fasama on both his maternal and paternal lines. His mother, Dabali, was the daughter of Batku of a tribe interpreted by Lange as Maghumi (Lange 71). If true, this means she was a descendant of Fasama through the brother of Abd Allah Bakuru, and perhaps this helped lay the foundations for the Maghumi royal clan. 

In summation, there are clues from the Diwan that suggest one woman may have played a particularly important role in the early consolidation of the Sayfawa. Assuming she was a wife of Dunama b. Hummay, mother of Biri b. Dunama and grandmother of Abd Allah Bakuru, she likely played an important role in the early reign of her son and may have contributed to the establishment of the family line that led to the Maghumi ("free born"). She likely held "fiefs" and tremendous resources in both people and livestock. Her origins among the Kay may have also contributed to the connections with Kawar, a region some of the earlier kings were already tied to through their mothers. Fasama, however, may have also had ties to the Kay of Kawar and through her adherence to Islamic law and protection of her son, may have contributed to the growing Islamization of Kanem's elites with those of Kawar, Muslims before Kanem. Moreover, although the evidence is still limited, Fasama may have also contributed to the lineage that led to the formation of the Maghumi, or at least its consolidation that led to Dunama Dibalemi. 

Bibliography

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.

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

Hopkins, J. F. P., and Nehemia Levtzion (editors). Corpus of Early Arabic Sources for West African History. 1st Markus Weiner Publishers ed. Princeton [N.J.]: Markus Wiener Publishers, 2000.

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. 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.

Redhouse, J. W. “Translation from the Original Arabic of a History or Journal of the Events Which Occurred during Seven Expeditions in the Land of Kānim, against the Tribes of Bulala, &c., by the Sultan of Burnu, Idris the Pilgrim, Son of ’Ali; Preceded by Some Details of the Sultan’s Ancestors.” Journal of the Royal Asiatic Society of Great Britain and Ireland 19 (1862): 43–123. http://www.jstor.org/stable/25228715.

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

Late 12th Century Kanem and the Tuareg

Whilst perusing old notes on the Diwan (Lange's translation) as well as other sources, we wanted to revisit the early references to the Kindin of Ahir in Borno mahrams originally composed in the late 12th century. In H.R. Palmer's Bornu Sahara and Sudan, 2 mahrams dated to 1184 and 1192 are said to have been composed during the reign of Abdallah Bikur (Palmer 17). However, the regnal lengths in Dierk Lange's chronology challenges this. According to Lange's study of the Sayfawa dynasty, Abd Allah Bakuru likely reigned c.1166-c.1182 (Lange 70). However, it is possible that the mahrams translated and published by Palmer were copies which contained errors or mistakes in the dates. Without a closer look at the Arabic originals used by Palmer and researching other mahrams perhaps left in private collections, we cannot confirm or deny this. However, it is likely that Lange's chronology is more accurate and reliable than that proposed by Palmer.

Moving on to the mahrams in question, entitled "Abdallah Bikur" (1184 CE) and "Dirkuma Ibrahim" (1192 CE) by Palmer, one finds reference to conflict between the "Kindin Ahir" and the people of Dirku, in the Kawar oasis. The first one begins by alerting the reader to its purpose of elucidating the origin of the Beni Mukhtar (Palmer 17). Then, the narrative shifts to recounting a kidnapping of two Dirku girls by two sons of Sultan Sule of Ahir. Sule, perhaps a shortened form of Sulayman, is also mentioned in the mahram dated to 1192. However, in the 1184 incident, princes (maina) of Dirku named Bagarma, Fatar and Ali retrieved their daughters. This led to a Tuareg counterattack as the Dirku princes killed the Kindin princes. Unfortunately, Dirku was unable to withstand the Tuareg attack, so the residents fled to the "Birni" of Abdallah Bikur. Whether or not the mai lived in a birni-styled home is unclear, but this was presumably Njimi. Fortunately for Dirku, the powerful Kanem mai was able to intercede by offering the Kindin 3 non-noble subjects in exchange for the deaths of the two princes. This account suggests the rulers of Kanem also oversaw Kawar, or at least were recognized as a powerful intermediary. Furthermore, the offering of 3 non-nobles for the killing of two Kindin princes may also be a hint of the greater power of Kanem.

The next mahram, from 1192, focuses on a conflict over camel theft between the Kindin of Ahir and Dirku. It also begins with a reference to the origin of the Beni Mukhtar, whose original home was among the Tura Beni Habibi, before shifting to a narrative of conflict between Sule of Ahir and Dirku. According to this text, the Kindin of Ahir could not commandeer camels of Bure in war (Palmer 18). The text, at least as translated by Palmer, is rather difficult to interpret. It also alludes to the flight of the Dirku people to king Bikur of Kanem for protection in 1192. If the date is not an error for the conflict alluded to in the previous mahram, then the residents of what may have been Tamalma (Palmer speculates the use of the title Amarma is a reference to this part of Kawar) had also sought protection from Kanem. Moreover, the genealogy of Dirkuma Ibrahim alludes to ancestors whose titles, Zeilama, suggest ties to Zawila in the Fezzan. In other words, the rulers of Dirku in Kawar were closely linked to the Fezzan and may have once ruled there or held titles as representatives of Kanem's interest there in the early 12th century or 11th century.

Djibo Hamani's map of Tuareg migrations toward Ayar in Au carrefour du Soudan et de la Berbérie: le sultanat touareg de l'Ayar. Note that the Kel Ayar spent time in Jado and then remained in eastern Ayar. While other groups also migrated toward the east of Ayar, the Kel Ayar may have already had closer contacts with Kawar.

So, what do the mahrams tell us? If the years are accurate, perhaps we should be looking more closely at Abd Allah Bakuru's son, the first "black mai" (Lange 71). If, however, we accept that the sultan at the time was indeed Abd Allah Bakuru whose reign fell in between 1166 and 1182, we can find intriguing clues from the Diwan. After all, the Diwan indicates that Abd Allah Bakuru's grandmother, F. Sama, gifted 100 camels to him and 100 camels of another type to his brother. Lange interprets the Diwan as suggesting the F. Sama named here was the grandmother of Abd Allah Bakuru, but it is possible she was the mother of his grandfather, Bir (reigned c. 1140-1166). According to the Diwan, this F. Sama was also the daughter of a man named S.karam of the Kay tribe (Lange 69). If the Kay, or Kayi, were already significant in Kawar, particularly at Dirku, perhaps the great-grandmother of Abd Allah Bakuru linked him genealogically to the local elites of Dirku. In fact, as early as Bulu, the rulers of Kanem appear to have had links to Dirku, since his mother was said to be of the Kay of D.r.q. (Dirku) in the Diwan (Lange 67). Moreover, the Diwan also mentions Dirku as one of the sites where Arku established 300 slaves during his reign (c.1023-1067). Perhaps most important in what the Diwan demonstrates is the great wealth in camels of F.Sama and their essential role in the economic life of Kawar. The second mahram indicates this by referring to the area's protection under Kanem and the long-standing ties between the Sayfawa and local elites in Dirku and other parts of Kawar, including protecting their camel herds.

However, from reading Ibn Said's account of Kanem during the reign of Dunama Dibalemi, which borrows largely from a lost work by Ibn Fatima, we learn that the ruler of Kanem used Berbers he forced to convert to Islam for their camels and as troops for raids (Hopkins & Levtzion 188). If these "Berbers" were the Kindin of Ahir (broadly conceived), then one might be able to surmise that the rulers of Kanem had already vassalized or imposed tribute and camel supplies on some of the Berbers to the west of Kawar before the reign of Dunama Dibalemi. If so, so then the mahram's reference to the Kindin under Sule commandeering camels in war may be alluding to Kindin subjects of Kanem forcibly using camels from another province of Kanem to meet their obligations to the mai. This is a bit of a leap, but would suggest that some of the Kel Ayar Tuareg (or their ancestors) had perhaps been Islamized by Kanem and tributaries of the Sayfawa dynasty by the reign of Abd Allah Bakuru or his son, Salmama. 

But who was this Kindin king, Sule? Revisiting Djibo Hamani's study of the Sultanate of Agades offers some tantalizing possibilities. According to Hamani, the Kel Away have traditions of passing through Kawar before settling in Ayar. Hamani interprets oral traditions as best supporting a timeline of a 12th century migration from the Fezzan by the Kel Away (Hamani 88). If so, the group's time at Jado and in Kawar would have brought them in contact with Kawar's population at centers like Dirku. While the Kel Away later established themselves in Ayar, they often nomadized in the northeastern part of Ayar, where contacts with Kawar could have been maintained even before the Kel Away seized control of Kawar's salt trade in the 18th century. Alternatively, the Kel Away or other future Kel Ayar groups may be descendants of the "Lamta" said to live between Zawila and Kawar, mentioned by al-Ya'qubi in the late 9th century (Hopkins & Levtzion 22). Perhaps some of the Berber Muslims in Kawar at this time were Lamta? Regardless, it is possible the Kel Away may have become subjects of Kanem (however loosely) during the 12th century. Instead of a sultan or king, Sule may have been an ag-gode of the Kel Away or tribal chief of another Kel Ayar group who passed through Djado and neighbored Kawar across the Ténéré Desert. It is difficult to say there was any Ayar "king" of the region at this time, and the traditions of Borno's 'rule' of Ayar seem to date it to the 1300s and 1400s, particularly raids from Borno and the seizure of Tuareg girls from wives and concubines (Hamani 133-135). The Sultan of Ahir described by al-Umari appears to have no connection to the later Sultanate established in the early 1400s, though it was politically independent and may have been a loose confederation (Hopkins & Levtzion 274.

Unfortunately, many of details of the episodes of Kanem's intervention in Ayar and Kawar relations in the late 12th century remain elusive. It it possible the accounts described in the mahrams published by Palmer are indeed referring to Tuareg relations with Kawar and Kanem that suggest Kanem's growing influence over the Kel Ayar in the 1100s. In terms of a specific Tuareg group, the Kel Away appear to be good candidates, if one accepts that they began migrating from the Fezzan into Djado during this century, then migrating into Ayar. They likely would have had some degree of conflict as well as exchange with the people of Kawar during this period, and perhaps their location in Djado and Ayar woud have led to them being one of the groups once subservient to the mais of Kanem. The mahrams suggest that this process was already underway during the reign of Abd Allah Bakuru, whose own ties to Dirku and the Kawar were strong. 

Works Cited

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

Hopkins, J. F. P., and Nehemia Levtzion. Corpus of Early Arabic Sources for West African History. 1st Markus Weiner Publishers ed. Princeton [N.J.]: Markus Wiener Publishers, 2000.

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

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. 

Revisiting the Diwan

We have finally read Augustin Holl's important study of the Diwan of Kanem-Borno. Based on the French translation by Lange, Holl offers a very different type of analysis of the document. Instead of interpreting the Diwan as an abbreviated chronicle constituting a political archive that one can gleam for historical data and a clear chronology, Holl prefers to view it as an oral epic of sorts. As a work originally in Arabic but probably based on Kanuri oral literature, values, and performance, it should probably be read in light of other kingslists and oral traditions. Moreover, we here at this blog can agree wholeheartedly with Holl when he points out the the often specious reasoning or problematic assumptions made by several scholars of Kanem-Borno. Their mistakes and misinterpretations have spawned a discourse which further obscures the history of a fascinating African civilization. As Holl writes, "The Diwan deserves better than this selective use, geared to support what each scholar thinks to be the genuine pathway to statehood."

Beginning with an English translation of Lange's French rendering of the Diwan, one supposes the major value of Holl's book can be found in this initial section. For those unable to read French or the original Arabic texts, The Diwan Revisited is indispensable. The rest of the text explores the Diwan from the perspective of oral epic. Thus, Holl breaks down the analysis into rhythm, repetition, sequences and patterns of patronyms, toponyms, kinship or affinity, sense of time, and performance. Later chapters endeavor to use insights from paleoclimatology, symbolism of numbers, external Arabic sources from the medieval era, anthropology, linguistics, and archaeology to make sense of the Diwan. There are definite traces of oral history in the Diwan, even assuming it was initially written or commenced at the end of the 16th century. Moreover, as a work of oral literature or borrowing heavily from it, Holl is probably correct to see the text as work reorganized and updated according to social, ideological, and political circumstances. Indeed, the very circumstances in which Heinrich Barth was provided with two copies of it, and the violent end to the man who had the two copies produced, suggest how important kingslists and genealogies were for political legitimacy. Other kingslists, including a lost one Heinrich Barth recorded a few names from, illustrates how genealogies and Kanuri oral epics were diverse and could differ in significant ways when it came to the history of Kanem-Borno.

One can also appreciate the detailed sequential chronology of the Sayfawa dynasty in Holl's analysis. A Golden Age, Classic Period, First Intermediate Period, and New Kingdom Era actually makes some sense in terms of how the Diwan depicts the history of the Sayfawa. Other scholars have also suggested the Sayfawa state in Borno was more centralized than what had been the arrangement in Kanem, so Holl's analysis is closely following some of the previous narratives. While we are not entirely convinced of 9 descent groups (Banu Duku, Banu Hummay, Banu Salmama, Banu Kaday, Banu Idris, Banu Dawud, and sub-groups of Idrisawa, Umarawa, and Dunamawa), there clearly were cases of rival lineages in the ruling dynasty which led to competing factions and civil wars that nearly destroyed the kingdom with the eventual rise of the Bulala. Perhaps it would be simple-minded to think a single family really could have ruled in Kanem-Borno for around 1000 years, but the ancient roots of the Sayfawa seem to be clear, as indicated by Lange's analysis. Further, other lines of evidence not considered in Holl do suggest some deeper antiquity of the Sayfawa dynasty in pre-Islamic Kanem, which we explored in our post on Lange. 

Unfortunately, The Diwan Revisited suffers from excessive typos and spelling errors that occasionally obfuscate sentences or passages. The study doesn't engage with all the external medieval Arabic sources or some of the other kingslists and chronicles from the Central Sudan region. For instance, what insights might Hausa and Tuareg traditions, genealogies, and chronicles have revealed for Kanem-Borno? Recent scholarship on the Agadez Chronicles and other traditions might have strengthened Holl's theory of the Diwan as fundamentally an oral epic, or at least one heavily modified before shown to Barth. Of course, the existence of at least two works attributed to Muhammad Yanbu in the Late Sayfawa Period suggest that local scholars were writing down historical works. Perhaps Shitima Makaremma was not lying to Heinrich Barth at all, and there is good reason to view the Diwan as the primary chronicle or kingslist associated with the Sayfawa themselves?

The Diwan

Although his study of the document contains many speculations built on flimsy foundations, Dierk Lange's critical translation and interpretation of the Dīwān des sultans du (Kānem- )Bornū: chronologie et histoire d'un royaume africain (de la fin du Xe siècle jusqu'à 1808) is required reading for all interested in the history of Kanem-Borno. Using both copies of the Diwan given to Heinrich Barth, Lange translated the text and used a variety of internal and external sources to corroborate the historical accuracy of it. Indeed, specific external sources with approximate or nearly precise dates can support the chronology of Kanem-Borno by looking at the relatively accurate length of reigns of various mais. Undoubtedly, Lange's chronology is probably the most accurate we possess for the history of Kanem-Borno. 

By beginning with the end of the Sayfawa dynasty in 1846, and working backwards in time, one can arrive at a generally accurate timeline for the heads of state back to the medieval era. While less precise for the time of Hummay or the previous so-called Duguwa dynasty, the rough chronology gives us an idea of who was in power in early Kanem during moments of trans-Saharan interaction with polities in Tunisia, the Fezzan, Egypt, and beyond. Lange also suggests some probable theories on the nature of the original lost "Chronicle of Borno" that was likely the basis for the Diwan and how it pushes back the origins of Kanem to the 6th or 7th century. Thus, the fictive reign lengths of hundreds of years attributed to a few early Kanem kings (Duku, Katur) really represent multiple generations of rulers (11 or 12) before Ayuma (r.987-1007), perhaps pushing the origins of Kanem back to the 500s (Lange 141).

Unfortunately, Lange confidently asserts some questionable theories about the origins of Kanem and the question of dynastic continuity throughout the history of the civilization. Despite the Diwan, Ahmad b. Furtu, Ibn Sa'id (drawing on Ibn Fatima), and Kanuri oral traditions, Lange insists on seeing the Sayfawa as newcomers not lineally descended from the Duguwa rulers of early Kanem. To Lange, the Sayfawa, beginning with Hummay, were actually Berber in origin. Drawing on al-Yaqubi, al-Idrisi, Muhammad Bello, the romance of Sayf (with its allegedly anti-black or at least racialized character) Leo Africanus, the Diwan alluding to red-skinned early mais, and some linguistic assumptions, Lange comfortably claims, "Hummay était en toute vraisemblance un Tarki (sing. du nom arab Tawarik) issu d'un milieu islamisé et même, en partie, arabisé" (111). According to Lange, Hummay's very name could be connected to the Tuareg name Hammai, while his mother and grandfather could have names of Arabic origin modified by Berber speakers (98). 

While one could could not deny the possibility of ancient Saharan contacts between Berbers and the ancestors the Kanembu and Kanuri, the Diwan clearly states Hummay's mother was a Kay (Koyam) and his father was the previous king of Kanem, Abd al-Djalil. Consequently, we here at the blog differ in our interpretation of a passage in the Halle manuscript of the Diwan (97). To us, the passage is emphasizing a distinction between the descendants of Hummay and Duku because of the former's deeper attachment to Islam. While earlier mais appear to have been Muslims (Abd al-Djalil, Hawa), perhaps it was only with Hummay and his descendants that Islam was more deeply established as an official religion of Kanem (or its ruling elite). For example, we know al-Bakri, writing in the mid-11th century, saw Kanem as a land of "pagan" Sudan. However, if the Diwan is reliable for 11th century kings, Hawa (r. 1067-1071) was already a Muslim. Hawa, if male, was the son of Arku, whose mother was a Tomaghera from Kawar, a region with a deep history of Islamic traders (including Berber merchants). Is it not likely that the ascension of Hummay may have represented a strengthening of a Muslim faction among the ruling dynasty, perhaps one more deeply attached to Islam than Hawa and Abd al-Djalil? Furthermore, the possibly Arabic names of Hummay's mother and maternal grandfather (Takrama and Ghumar) could simply reflect the transmission of Islam through Berbers (and Arabs). Based on the sources we currently have, there's simply no evidence for Hummay being Tuareg or some other sort of Berber. However, Lange could be correct that Hummay came from a background already Islamized, as indicated by the Diwan mentioning 2 previous Muslim rulers of Kanem.

As for the alleged descent from Sayf, and the allegedly anti-black character of the romance of Sayf making it unlikely for "black Africans" to claim descent from him, we are not convinced (102). Obviously, a plethora of fictitious Yemeni or Arab genealogies exist across Muslim Africa. Moreover, the rulers of Kanem were known to have adopted the Sayfian nisba by the 13th century, centuries before the romance was written down in Egypt. We simply do not know if the ruling elite of Kanem were aware of the "racial" implications the legendary Sayf was associated with, and other factors could be relevant to the clearly fictitious political myth of origins. If, on the other hand, Lange's interpretation of Hummay as a Berber whose successors claimed descent from Sayf because of the "racial" character of the legendary Sayf defeating non-Muslim "black Africans" were true, one would have to wonder why they also claimed descent from the earlier, pagan dynasty. After all, Ibn Sa'id reported that the "pagan" ancestors of Dunama Dibalemi (r.1210-1248) were based in Manan, the ancient capital of Kanem mentioned by al-Muhallabi in the late 10th century (96). This would suggest Dunama Dibalemi was a descendant of the same kings who ruled from Manan and, later on, shifted the capital to Njimi. 

The main complication to the narrative of dynastic continuity from early Kanem to 1846 is al-Umari, who wrote of the Sayfawa seizing power after al-Hadi al-Uthmani established Islam in Kanem (99). In fact, this Hadi al-Uthmani who supposedly first established Islam, is not mentioned in the Diwan and supposedly claimed descent from the 3rd Rashidun caliph. Borno traditions and mahrams remember another person who introduced Islam (Muhammad b. Mani), and a close reading of al-Umari in Corpus of Early Arabic Sources for West African History never refers to Hadi al-Uthmani explicitly as a king. Instead, al-Umari wrote, "The first man to establish Islam there was Hadi al-Uthmani who claimed descent from Uthman b. 'Affan. It passed after him to the Yazanis, the descendants of Dhu Yazan" (Corpus 261). One wonders if the man al-Umari names as the first to establish Islam was an Islamic scholar affiliated with Hawa or Abd al-Djalil. The reference to the Yazanis or descendants of Sayf could be a reference to the Sayfawa introducing and cementing Islam throughout their domains as the primary patrons of the religion. After all, one of the sources of legitimacy of the dynasty was their support for Islam, Muslim scholars, and the faith. Hence, an alternative reading of al-Umari suggests the Sayfawa (or, really, the Duguwa but more explicitly Islamized) became the dominant patrons of the religion. 

Another sign of likely dynastic continuity from the Duguwa to the Sayfawa can be found in pre-Islamic forms of political legitimacy that continued throughout the history of Kanem-Borno. If the Sayfawa who took power in the late 11th century were Berbers from a family Islamized for quite some time, how does one explain their preservation of older, non-Muslim customs and traditions? Intermarriage with previous ruling elite? We find it more likely that they were indeed the same dynasty and they never completely dropped non-Muslim traditions of kingship. Thus, the belief in the power of the ruler to influence health and agriculture, the veneration and isolation of the mai, and widespread acceptance of the myth that the king doesn't require food, for instance, continued long after the medieval era. For example, Kanuri informants of Descourtilz in Saint-Domingue reported that the king of Borno never leaves his palace and any subject who dares to stare at him is punished by death (Descourtilz 146). Ibn Battuta in the 14th century, like al-Umari, described Borno's ruler as never appearing before the people and never addressing them unless from behind a curtain (although al-Umari mentioned 2 festivals in which the king did appear). 

In addition, W.G. Browne, who traveled to Darfur in the 1790s, mentioned a rainy season ritual in which the king of Borno, like the sultan of Darfur, was expected to dig holes into the ground with his hands, suggesting kingship in pre-Islamic Kanem was believed to have an effect on the harvest (probably explaining why al-Muhallabi thought the subjects of Kanem's "pagan" kings believed their mai provided food and health). This suggests a degree of continuity in kingship rituals, practices, and style from the time of al-Muhallabi (late 900s) to the late 18th century. In short, the mai was, usually, distant from his subjects, associated with extreme power, and believed to have some influence on agriculture (supernatural power associated with kingship in deep antiquity?) and these characteristics remained relevant long after mai Hummay ascended to the throne. If Hummay really was of external origin and/or Berber, he and his descendants must have quickly assimilated into the local ruling class and what became the Magumi (royal clan, magumi meaning free-born, according to Koelle). 

While more could be said on the questionable conclusions and guesswork of Lange with regards to Leo Africanus and Muhammad Bello on the origins of the Sayfawa dynasty, or even the speculative association of the Duguwa dynasty with blacksmiths, our hope is not to focus solely on the negative. The Diwan received a much better translation here than in Palmer's Bornu Sahara and Sudan. Fortunately, Lange is more careful and measured in his conclusions as well as providing a more accurate chronology than that of Urvoy or Palmer. For a superior translation with a plethora of useful comments and references, this French study of the Diwan is important for helping us to establish the basic timeline of an African civilization and how it developed over time. Though we are skeptical of the idea of two separate dynasties, this is essential reading for the history of Kanem-Borno.