Medieval Arabic Epigraphy from Mali and Songhay History

Arabic Medieval Inscriptions from the Republic of Mali: Epigraphy, Chronicles and Songhay-Tuareg History by P.F. de Moraes Farias has long been on our reading list. One of the essential studies that endeavors to incorporate medieval epigraphic sources into our understanding of the history of the Songhay and the eastern arc of the Niger, this important work, despite its (necessarily) occasional speculative nature, raises a number of questions about the received wisdom on the history of Mali. First, by exploring the problematic way in which Heinrich Barth, Delafosse, and others have problematically assumed the 17th century Timbuktu chronicles can be treated as a reservoir of basic facts and data without any deeper ideological or textual analysis, this study illustrates how and why the funerary and non-funerary epigraphic evidence has been ignored, sidelined, or treated as peripheral. 

However, the funerary sources, as early sources covering dates from the early 11th century until the end of the 15th, are actual textual sources from the period before the rise of Sonni Ali and Askia Muhammad I. They shed (some) light on earlier rulers at Gao and Saney with more than just the kingslists that appear in the 17th century chronicles. Moreover, by ignoring the innovative nature of the tarikh genre in the 17th century Western Sudan, and the specific political and socioeconomic conditions which shaped its development after the fall of the Songhay imperial state and the establishment of the Arma, modern scholars have underappreciated the creativity of the chroniclers and their own motives. Furthermore, the chroniclers themselves lamented the lack of sufficient or detailed records from the early history of the Western Sudan, so epitaphs and other inscriptions from the 11th-15th century become exceptionally important sources to supplement our meager knowledge of that era.

That said, the inscriptions obviously cannot tell us everything. They do, however, provide a vista onto how the deceased and those who erected stelae or inscribed tombstones for the dead conceived of time, the calendar, their connection to the larger world of Islam, and hints of kingship, ethnicity, language, or cultural change. Part of this can be seen in Bentyia, where inscriptions record Songhay, Berber, and what appear to be Mande names. The intense interplay between Songhay and Tuareg cultures also challenges us to rethink casual or simplistic assumptions about "race" and culture, too. For instance, the askia title, which appeared in inscriptions centuries before the rise of Askia Muhammad at the end of the 15th century, may have a connection to a word of Berber derivation referring to a male slave (though this is a complex question that requires deeper familiarity with Songhay linguistics and oral tradition). It's quite clear, too, from reading de Moraes Farias, that the Ali Kulun character of Tuareg oral literature was likely the source for how the Timbuktu chroniclers sought to make sense of the period of Mali imperial domination of Gao and the eastern Niger. This suggests that some of the narratives about that period reported in the chronicles are unhistorical and the chronology of Malian rule and the different dynasties that ruled Gao will remain up for debate. 

Whether or not the epigraphic evidence can be used to postulate how kingship might have operated at Gao before the period of Mali's domination is uncertain, but de Moraes Farias's theory of rotating succession in the 11th-13th centuries is an intriguing one., After all, based on the funerary inscriptions from the early 1100s and 1200s at Gao and Saney (another site near Gao), he speculates that there may have been two lines or royal clans who alternated kingship. The first one was definitely Muslim by the second half of the 1000s, and the second one, the so-called Zuwa 'dynasty' may have either been officeholders who shared power with the earlier 'dynasty'. 

Besides raising questions about the Timbuktu chronicles and how medieval inscriptions in Arabic force us to rethink or reconceptualize space, belief, and culture in the medieval Sahel, one is also left with tantalizing references to what may have been early Sufist influence in the Sahel at Junhan. One is also left wondering why it funerary inscriptions were in vogue at Gao, Saney, Bentyia, and Essuk (Tadmakka) but no evidence for the practice has been found yet in Kanem. One would expect that similar connections with Tripoli, Qayrawan and other parts of the Maghrib (as well as similar Saharan and Sahelian Berber populations) did not lead to the development of funerary inscriptions at sites like Njimi (or perhaps at Manan, the earlier capital of Kanem which remains unknown). If the early prominence of Ibadis in Kanem's trans-Saharan trade is a factor, something similar was also an inhibiting factor at Gao.

The Sultanate of Mali

Hadrien Collet's Le sultanat du Mali - Histoire régressive d'un empire médiéval XXIe-XIVe siècle is a challenging read. Very academic and interested in avoiding literalist readings of oral traditions or Arabic sources, the focus of this regressive history is an emphasis on the historiography of Mali. This historiography reveals discursive practices of various generations of historians who wrote about the past of Mali, from Mamluk-era scholars like al-Umari to the post-medieval historians and chroniclers of the Timbuktu tarikh tradition or colonial and post colonial academics and scholars. By highlighting the historiographical turn, Collet's study endeavors to understand the ideological, literary, and other contexts of the key texts utilized as sources to construct a narrative of the "imperial" era in the Western Sudan. Likewise, a rereading of Arabic sources and a desire to place them in their context reveals how al-Umari, Ibn Battuta, and others from the Muslim world conceived of Mali in terms of Islamic geography, science, literature, and geopolitics. By attempting to understand the larger context for our external sources on Mali, instead of relying on extracts that divorce these sources from their larger context, one can gain new insights into the origin and meaning of the relevant writings. Collet's text particularly does this with regard to al-Umari's encyclopedic chapter on Mali and the Rihla of Ibn Battta. Surprisingly, Ibn Khaldun, who provides some of the richest information on Mali in the external sources, does not receive a chapter.

The choice of beginning with the colonial-era scholarship of the likes of a Delafosse and orientalists like Cooley to the nationalist scholarship of Mamby Sidibe or the post colonial age of scholarship from the likes of D.T. Niane and Cheikh Anta Diop, makes it easier to see for the reader how the narrative of the "Mali Empire" developed and became an established historical "fact" in academic, Afrocentric and online discourse. However, a deeper analysis of the ways in which this narrative was established by scholars and academics in the 19th and 20th centuries reveals a number of problems and concerns. Since we have not examined some of the scholarship analyzed here, particularly the works of Monteil or the Malian and Guinean publications of the post colonial era, we nonetheless find a problem with the colonialist, nationalist, Afrocentric, and interpretative lens used by these scholars. The colonial-era ones, for instance, like Delafosse, did not always cite their oral sources clearly and later scholars adopted a sometimes uncritical use of oral traditions, treating the griots as "neutral" reservoirs of "raw facts" or data that can be used to supplement the meager external Arabic sources for the medieval sultanate of Mali. In reality, however, these oral traditions as preserved by griots are not frozen in time but adaptable to new conditions and meanings to retain their relevance. In other words, scholars may have rushed to historicize figures like Sundiata while also promoting the narrative of a precociously modern "constitution" for the state established by this figure. 

In short, scholars must use oral traditions as carefully as written sources, and in so doing will similarly recognize the agency and creativity of griots as historians. This type of analysis will potentially elucidate or bring us closer to answering the questions of past generations of specialists and scholars. For instance, using oral traditions and archaeological data critically to rethink the location of the capital of the Mali sultanate. Instead of looking to Niani, the discredited imperial capital promoted by colonial scholars and Niane, the capital of the sultanate may have been further north and not in the Manden heartland as we know it today. Likewise, the collection of oral traditions in different parts of Manden and trying to analyze how they reflect post-"imperial" Mali conditions after the loss of their northern territories (Djenne, Walata, Timbuktu, etc.) highlights the "living" nature or conditions of oral traditions.

The next section analyzes post-medieval West African historians in an intriguing manner. Building on the model of historian Paulo Fernando de Moreas Farias and Mauro Nobili, the famous tarikhs of Timbuktu are seen in a new light. In addition, 19th century Islamic scholars such as Muhammad Bello of Sokoto and the chronicles and writings of Muslim scholars from Walata and the Hamdullahi caliphate. By treating the authors of texts as historian colleagues, one can begin to see how their construction of Mali and the pilgrimage of Mansa Musa functioned to express an Islamic West African conception of the region's past. Takrur, for example, is redefined by these authors in ways that clearly deviate from the historical kingdom of Takrur or the use of the term by Mamluk scholars in the East. Mansa Musa and his wondrous pilgrimage, the sponsorship of mosques, and the honor he accorded to the ulama represent a model of leadership. Like the future Askia Muhammad's function in the chronicles, Mansa Musa therefore served as an exemplary Islamic ruler who also helped establish Takrur as a Muslim geographic space. Although our 17th century chroniclers al-Sa'adi and Ibn Muhtar appear to have largely relied on oral traditions for Mali and a few external Arabic sources, their anecdotes, stories, and traditions on the Middle Niger's past under Malian suzerainty indicate the enduring memory and legacy of the kingdom. Even when in conflict with Songhay, the Islamic sultanate Collet suggests may be conceived as "modern" or "early modern" rather than medieval, Mali and the memory of Mansa Musa suggest it retained its power and legacy as an Islamic state. 

The final chapters analyzing the major external Arabic sources (al-Umari, Ibn Battuta) and the Mamluk-era writings on the pilgrimage of Mansa Musa, present, perhaps, the denouement of the historiographical and hermeneutical turn embodied in this work. These sources, written in the time of the Mali sultanate's zenith or soon after, reflect the power and reputation attained by the West African state after Mansa Musa's pilgrimage impressed Mamluk Cairo in 1325. Collet's reading of al-Umari and Ibn Battuta exemplifies this well, as both authors receive detailed treatment in terms of their backgrounds, their writings beyond the well-known extracts on Mali, and the literary and intellectual concerns and styles of their respective genres. Seeing Ibn Battuta and Ibn Guzzay's co-produced narrative as literary does not mean the voyage to the Sudan never happened (although it is possible Ibn Battuta never went beyond Walata). Indeed, following literary conventions and seeing the topology of the genre of travel writings that situated the Sudan (Black Africa) and the Far East as distinct zones bordering the unknown lands. The notion of "marvels" used here, particularly in the chapter on Ibn Battuta, was fascinating and points to, in our opinion, the overall veracity of Ibn Battuta's account of Mali. While undoubtedly drawing on a larger corpus of literature on the "Land of the Blacks" in Arabic literature, the local customs and "exoticisms" described in the text are sometimes unique and, if not directly witnessed by Ibn Battuta himself, were based on first-hand accounts. Like al-Umari, who also occasionally drew from the larger context of Arabic literary conventions and geography on sub-Saharan Africa, Ibn Battuta's story of cannibals to the south of Mali and other "marvels" demonstrates the literary nature of the source. That insight, however, does not mean the journey to Mali never occurred. It actually offers a new perspective that can raise new questions and conclusions about the nature of Mali during the 14th century. 

Sadly, Ibn Khaldun's detailed analysis of Mali does not have a separate chapter in Collet's detailed book. It is a shame, since Ibn Khaldun's use of a "Takruri" informant from Ghana indicates the presence of an account drawing on a different regime of truth. Indeed, the Takruri faqih in Cairo may represent a late 14th century West African perspective on Mali, drawing on "fresh" traditions and possibly written sources for his reconstruction of the chronology of mansas. Uthman, this Ghana faqih interpreted via Ibn Khaldun, represents, besides Mansa Musa himself in the reports on the pilgrimage, the closest thing to a contemporary "internal" voice on the sultanate. It would have been interesting to read Collet's breakdown of Ibn Khaldun and his larger sociopolitical theory of history in this context, as well as an early local/West African history of Mali. Otherwise, al-Umari largely relied on al-Dukkali, who is said to have lived in Mali's capital for several years, or the filtered accounts of what Mansa Musa was reported to have said to Mamluk officials during his Egyptian sojourn. Even if Ibn Khaldun's account is not particularly reliable, the use of Takruri informants who were contemporaries of 14th century Mali merits further investigation. 

Contribution to the History of the Mali Empire

Madina Ly Tall's Contribution à l'histoire de l'Empire du Mali, (XIIIe-XVIe siècles) : limites, principales provinces, institutions politiques is by now a dated yet provocative interpretation of the Mali Empire. Pushing back against earlier authors like Delafosse who believed Mali disintegrated into irrelevance by the early decades of the 15th century, Ly Tall uses Portuguese sources and oral traditions to demonstrate the power and economic importance of Mali in 15th and 16th century gold trade, especially through its control of the Gambia for access to coastal trade. The Malian historian also utilized the usual Arabic sources (medieval external Arabic ones like that of al-Umari or Ibn Khaldun and the later chronicles like the Tarikh al-Fattash) and oral traditions recorded in earlier sources or from her own fieldwork. Thus, through an impressive use of nearly all types of sources (including the limited archaeological work in Mali and the site of Niani), the author presents a plausible Mali Empire through its provincial organization and administrative structure.

More than half of the text consists of short chapters on the various provinces of Mali that can be identified with a combination of textual and oral sources. These major provinces are then elucidated in terms of their possible importance in the Mali Empire and how they were lost to the center. Here is where the author is willing to push back against previous scholarship with regards to the eastern extent of Mali. During its apogee in the 14th century, Ly Tall believes the emperor did indeed include Tadmekka and Takedda, despite other historians disputing the problematic Arabic sources on the matter. Of course, due to the paucity of sources, it is possible that these eastern possessions were lost after a short period of time. Ly Tall also makes a problematic case for Kukia possibly remaining under Mali control well into the 15th century. This is based, in part, on the problematic references to a "Quioquia" in Portuguese sources. This, however, seems unlikely to have been the Kukiya associated with the Songhay and Gao. We find it unlikely that the Sonni or Si dynasty would have not controlled Kukiya by the 1430s if not far earlier. After all, Ly Tall herself implies that Mali lost control of much of its northern and eastern domains around the time it lost control of Timbuktu in the 1430s. Consequently, it seems unlikely to have held Kukiya, too. Of course, Ly Tall tdoes raise interesting pints due to the possible depopulation of Gao in c.1375 and its decline in the late 1300s and early 1400s but we believe it unlikely that Malian influence would have still been strong in that area. 

Outside of a few quibbles with questionable claims or debatable conclusions about Mali's imperial reach to the east and over Gao-Kukiya, the author endeavors to use oral traditions in conjunction with Ibn Khaldun, al-Umari, and Ibn Battuta to sketch the outline of imperial Mali's administration. According to her research, the empire appears to have not depended on enslaved officials, although she identifies a griot who was willing to explain the rise of one former slave official who usurped power (perhaps the Sakoura of Ibn Khaldun's account). The issue of succession, which we saw led to frequent conflicts, appears to have followed two patterns. After Sundiata, it was mainly collateral, moving from eldest brother to younger siblings. After Mansa Musa, however, the succession seems to have emphasized father-son inheritance. Perhaps this was due to the greater Islamization of the Mandingue aristocracy or the specific desires of rulers to ensure their sons would reign. Sadly, the lack of sources for later Mali history in the 15th and 16th century does not allow us to clearly identify which pattern of succession predominated. Perhaps, after losing its northern territories, the Mandingue returned to an emphasis on collateral succession, a principle deeply grounded in Mandingue polities and clan structure. In addition, the administrative structure was one that, of course, featured a prominent role for griots, repositories of tradition and history who were closely linked to the mansas. The Mali Empire's administrative structure also included a role for local dynasties in annexed or conquered territories, though sometimes replacing them with representatives of the central government. 

Overall, Ly Tall's study is a careful one that attempts to integrate all the known sources. While she appears to have lacked the ability to read Portuguese, the French and English translations provide enough data to demonstrate that Mali's influence continued in Gambia. Her argument that control of this stretch of the coast played a major role in the survival of a Mali empire until the end of the 16th century is an interesting one that could be strengthened with further data or figures on the scale of the gold trade with the Portuguese. Nonetheless, the fertility of the land along the Gambia River and the trade with Europeans on the coast likely did contribute to Mali's survival after the loss of its northern territories. That said, Malian control of some of the gold sources which provided gold to Djenne and Timbuktu must have been an important source of revenue for the mansas. Even if Songhay and, then the Pashalik in Timbuktu controlled the north, Mali remained relevant in the gold trade to the north. Indeed, as late as 1599, the mansa of Mali attempted to seize Djenne, proof that the state was still a power in the region and willing to try to retake former provinces. 

Ancient Ghana and Mali

Although somewhat outdated, Nehemia Levtzion's Ancient Ghana and Mali remains the best introductory overview of 2 of the early major kingdoms of the Western Sudan. Gomez's African Dominion reflects more recent scholarship and advances in archaeology for the region, but suffers from a more hermetic nature, inaccessible style, and questionable attempts at integrating race and gender into the topic. Much of Gomez's text also degenerated into lengthy analysis on Songhay of interest only to specialists while neglecting some of arguments of other scholars. Levtzion's book, on the other hand, represents a fine, albeit dated, synthesis of oral traditions and textual analysis on the development of kingdoms, the spread of Islam, and trans-Saharan trade. Unfortunately, we just do not have enough sources on early Ghana or the early Malinke chiefdoms. In addition, perhaps inclusion of early Songhay history and the Kawkaw state would have been a good addition to encapsulate the entirety of the 3 "empires" of the Western Sudan from c.500 to c.1500.

While the scholarly consensus of today rejects the Almoravid "conquest" of Ghana, Levtzion's study demonstrates how the Western Sudan became increasingly incorporated into global medieval exchange and cultural development. The gold of the Western Sudan was pivotal for Mediterranean and European monetary systems and political transformations from the Italian trading centers to Fatimid expansion in North Africa. Trans-Saharan trade also reached the forest belt and coastal regions of West Africa as the gold fields of today's Ghana fed into the trading system of Mali. Local transformations with the spread of Muslim Dyula traders and Malinke warriors to the south and east, plus Islamic conversion of local rulers in more regions of Africa led to new developments, tastes, spiritual expression and trade between Western and Central Sudan. After all, the Wangarawa were in Hausaland by the 14th century and the Diwan of Kanem-Borno mentions Mali clerics coming to Kanem by the 13th century. 

These early contacts between the Western and Central Sudan unfortunately do not appear in much of the external Arabic sources. An early trade route connecting Egypt and Ghana went through Kawkaw (Gao), and Tadmekka traded with Ghana and Kawkaw. Through Air and the early Hausa states, people from the Middle Niger and Kanem likely interacted as copper, salt, gold, textiles, and slaves were exchanged. Sadly, learning of what kinds of relations existed between Ghana or Mali and Kanem is difficult to uncover. Nonetheless, we would hazard, based on Levtzion's mention of intersecting trans-Saharan routes and the evidence of some cultural ties in other sources, that Kanem and the Central Sudan must have interacted through trade, religion and migration. After all, by the late 11th century, the ruling elites of Takrur, Ghana, Kawkaw (Gao), and Kanem were Muslims This convergence of Islamization in the most important kingdoms of the Sudanic belt in the Western and Central Sudan must have favored or fostered ties, diplomatic relations, and movements of Islamic clerics, as mentioned in the Diwan and Kano Chronicle. The two major "commodities" exported by the Western and Central Sudan, respectively, were gold and slaves. The lack of competition over the principal exports to North Africa and Egypt plus the development of textile industries in each region likely fueled exchange between the two zones.