Approaching Medieval Nubia Through Continuity

Ali Osman's Economy and trade of medieval Nubia is premised on the notion of continuity across Nubian history. With this probably fair assumption, his thesis proceeds to explore possible mechanisms and systems of economics and exchange in Nubia based on analogous practices in modern Nubia. This can be justified by the, again, probably fair, conclusion that relations with their environment, technology, and rural/village systems of land proprietorship and lineages have not changed drastically until the 20th century. While Osman is undoubtedly correct to point to the necessity of using contemporary Nubian ethnographic and linguistic evidence to make sense of Christian Nubia, his analogous model does veer a little too far by attempting to compare Nubia's river trade of the early 20th century to the organization of trade 1000 years ago. Again, the environment hasn't changed that much and there undoubtedly was much continuity at the village level (at least) from the Christian period through post-Christian kingdoms. But, one suspects that the impact of religion and the gradual shift to Islam may have introduced more changes in social, economic, spiritual, and political features than we think. Despite some similarities between the state of Kokka, for instance, and medieval Nubia, the practice of Islam and changes in the "superstructure" of society may have introduced or led to other changes on the micro-level. Despite our own hesitations about some of the study's conclusions, it was fascinating to read Osman's personal, autobiographic details. Indeed, oral traditions of his own lineage identify a Christian ancestor who lived several centuries ago! And the author's comments about official versus popular trade seem reasonable. 

Nubia Under the Pharaohs

Bruce Trigger's Nubia Under the Pharaohs is a brief study of the relations between Egypt and its southern neighbor from the Early Dynastic Period to the rise of the Napatan Kushite kingdom. As one can expect, a study such as this relies heavily on archaeological surveys, excavations and inscriptions to make sense of Pharaonic Egypt's interests and subjugation of Nubia. However, Trigger's publication is rather outdated by now, and reflects older scholarship's occasionally problematic racial framework. For instance, Egyptian attitudes about the southerners during the period of the New Kingdom empire are compared to the attitudes of Europeans about black Africans during the period of European colonial rule in Africa. Sure, Egyptian inscriptions recorded during the zenith of their empire in Nubia reflected their self-serving narrative but one wonders to what extent it was any different from Egyptian attitudes about their Levantine subjects. In addition, "brown" populations in Lower Nubian are distinguished from the "negroid" populations further south in a way that racializes the population history of Nubia. This does not seem particularly helpful, especially given the wide-ranging ties between Lower Nubia and Upper Nubia since prehistoric times. Indeed, the widely-shared C-Group characteristics as well as the presence of Pan-Grave burials (in addition to Egyptian imports and Egyptian-styled graves) point to a heterogeneous population in which "race" as we see it today should not be imposed. 

Despite these aforementioned "issues" and being somewhat dated, Trigger's study does suggest some ideas about how and why "Egyptianization" in Nubia became so influential and enduring. While influences from predynastic Upper Egypt appear already in the A-Group culture of Lower Nubia, the less favorable agricultural conditions in that section of Nubia may have limited the development of states or stratified societies. Nonetheless, populations in Lower Nubia were able to enjoy imported manufactured products from Egypt in exchange for African products desired by the Egyptian royal court and luxury markets in the Near East. Acting as middlemen between the powerful Egyptian state to the north and southern territories like Yam (Iam, assuming it was indeed in the area that later became known as Kerma), Lower Nubian groups appear to have enjoyed a degree of prosperity in the Old Kingdom period. However, Middle Kingdom Egyptian expansion, which included fortifications at key sites along the Nile to protect trade routes and access to gold, removed the need for Nubian middlemen in this next phase of Egyptian relations with Nubia. Nonetheless, a powerful state centered at Kerma, Kush, was able to prosper and during the Second Intermediate Period, even trade with the Hyksos in Lower Egypt profitably. Kerma expansion to the Egyptian frontier made them a potent state whose rulers were interred in large burials featuring human sacrifice on an impressive scale. Undoubtedly, Kerma was a power with access to Egyptian and Near Eastern products as well as some of the amenities and features of pharaonic civilization (the adoption or use of hieroglyphics is inferred from an Upper Egyptian ruler intercepting a letter from the Hyksos ruler to the Kerma king). 

The New Kingdom era, however, ushered in the most extensive period of Egyptian rule. Extending to at least the 4th Cataract, the New Kingdom pharaohs sponsored more fortifications, Egyptian settlements, gold mining operations, trade expeditions with the south, and Egyptian settlements. Egyptianization took on a new dimension as local elites (which included some descendants of the Kerma rulers as well as local headmen who had probably enjoyed a degree of status and power under Kerman rule) were sometimes sent to Egypt for education and adopted Egyptian burial styles, ritual worship and other traits. To what extent the population of Nubia was reduced to serving as peasant labor for estates of temples or serving the Pharaohs for mining or military service is unclear. According to Trigger, Egyptianization here was so heavily promoted because the Egyptians had little respect for local institutions and cultures in Nubia while also eager to fill the void left by the fall of Kush with more "advanced" Egyptian administrative, economic, and religious features. We find it hard to imagine the kingdom at Kerma was so lacking in establishing an administrative framework but perhaps the Egyptians wanted to efface the old system of Kush, especially since occasional rebellions in Upper Nubia continued to arise that may have preferred the Kushite state system. Regardless of the extent to which Egyptianization was more heavily promoted in Nubia than in the Levant, after 500 years, one can see why the Napatan-Meroitic civilization that emerged after Egyptian colonial occupation may have borrowed heavily from pharaonic civilization as a framework for the administration of an state that encompassed all of Nubia.

Meroitic Lower Nubia

Millet's dissertation, "Meroitic Nubia," was not what we expected. Instead of a speculative and dated interpretation of Meroitic Lower Nubia and the Dodekaschoinos, Millet's essay focuses on interpreting the Meroitic inscriptions and texts to make sense of northern Nubia's elite administrative, religious, and kinship structures. Due to our failure to make sense of most of the Meroitic language, however, there is a lot of guesswork and attempts to corroborate guesses with Demotic and Greek sources or texts. With those limitations in mind, Millet nonetheless raises a number of interesting questions about the role of northern Nubia during the 3rd century of our era. 

According to Millet, the region's growing importance must have been linked to the adoption of the waterwheel, gold mining at Wadi el-Allaqi, and trade routes through the desert to Egypt. Intriguingly, Millet also proposes that Lower Nubia's economic importance was also based on trade with the west and southwest, with Darfur and Kordofan. The spread of the camel and Meroe's interests in peace with the desert nomads (ancestors of the Beja and others) must have been, in part, motivated by a desire to provide security for trade routes to Egypt. Although Meroe appears to have "shared" the Dodekaschoinos with the Ptolemaic and Roman rulers of Egypt, the continued importance of the temple at Philae represented another interest of Meroites in Lower Nubia. 

As for the general thrust of his thesis, on collateral inheritance of titles in Meroitic Nubia or the degree to which his tentative genealogies of elite families in the region can be substantiated, we assume more recent scholarship has partly addressed this. Our friends, the Wayekiye family, for instance, must be one of the fascinating families for analysis because of their education and links to the princely Akin lineage. Were they and other similar families also investing in land, and exploiting tenant farmers? Furthermore, it would be interesting to see if the relationship of Meroitic Lower Nubia to the heartland of the state was comparable to Lower Nubia's relation to Dongola in the medieval era. Certainly, the survival of Meroitic culture to some extent and a framework assuming cultural continuity would suggest this. 

Medieval Nubia's Social and Economic History

Giovanni Ruffini's ambitiously titled Medieval Nubia: A Social and Economic History asserts a number of compelling and, despite its limited sources, plausible theories for Christian Nubia. Instead of seeing Makuria or Dotawo as lacking private land tenure or a monetized economy, Ruffini draws from the Qasr Ibrim land sales and letters to argue Makuria was a mixture of classical Mediterranean and local Sudanese traditions. Like Spaulding and others who have analyzed various aspects of Nubia's vast history, Ruffini argues for cultural continuity as a guiding theme for making sense of Nubia. Numerous examples are cited in the text of Meroitic and even pharaonic Egyptian influences in medieval Nubian religion, culture, and customs. The Choiak public festival, for instance, was likely of Osirian origin and survived in Coptic and Nubian Christian practice. Nubian rituals of today that include dipping new-born infants into the Nile and referencing Mary likely date from the Christian period, too. 

Thus, from the late Meroitic or Late Antique era until about 1821, one can arguably find much continuity across the political dimensions of the region. This can be highlighted with the adoption of the waterwheel and the role of the Nile and local ecology in both Lower and Upper Nubia. However, Nubia was, through thousands of years of contact with Egypt and the Mediterranean world, also a recipient of those influences. That impact can be seen in the Greco-Roman and Coptic traces in medieval Nubia's legal traditions. Naturally, then, one cannot be surprised to find similarities between Old Nubian land documents and those in Coptic in Egypt. Moreover, the importance of Greek as a living and even divine language used for bilingual Biblical texts, titles, amulets, and rituals attests to the survival of Roman and Byzantine influences long after Egypt fell under Muslim rule. Ruffini's Medieval Nubia attempts to demonstrate this signifiance of the classical Mediterranean's legacy through Qasr Ibrim's surviving documents, plus occasional epigraphic, ethnographic, literary, archaeological, and additional sources.

Unfortunately, our limited sources leads one to think Ruffini's study remains too speculative. While likely correct about the existence of private land tenure in Lower Nubia (and throughout Nubia, probably), much of the analysis of the Qasr Ibrim documents relies on speculation. We await further confirmation from Dongola, Soba, and other sites to ascertain the degree to which some of these speculative conclusions can be borne out. Nonetheless, Ruffini's analysis is persuasive based on the assumption of cultural continuity and the comparative data from other parts of Sudan and Egypt. The implications of this suggest a much wider territory included within what is usually considered "Mediterranean." In addition, it suggests medieval Nubia's land was productive or profitable and that elites who engaged in land sales were socially linked to the ecclesiastical and royal authorities. This elite group, whose conspicuous consumption through feasting accompanied land sales, also appears in the external Arabic sources in occasional revolts, conflicts with Nubian kings, and relations with Egypt. Alas, we are still left in the dark about the slaves, peasants, tenant farmers, and other groups in this complex society. 

The internal sources also call into question some of the problematic assumptions made by Western scholars who heavily rely on the external textual references. Some, like al-Masudi definitely reflect what might be considered a racial bias, although perhaps Ruffini overstates the case in regards to medieval Arab views of black Africans. Regardless, medieval Nubia represents a case in which one must carefully use the medieval Arabic sources when analyzing societies of the Sudan. Without understanding local dynamics, local sources, and the literary topos of the outside writers, one can perpetuate biases and omissions from the original writers, such as al-Masudi. Unfortunately, we have a lot more to uncover from Old Nubian sources and archaeological research before we can confirm some of Ruffini's conclusions. Research on Alwa would be particularly interesting here, since the external sources suggest it was wealthier than Makuria. Alwa's southern location and less reliance on the Nile also raises interesting questions about the periods of unification of medieval Nubia and Alwa's relations with societies further east and west. Either way, the future of Nubiology promises to be exciting.

"Blackness" in Early Christianity

We perused Gay L. Byron's Symbolic Blackness and Ethnic Difference in Early Christian Literature. The book was too short to properly address some of the deeper questions of race and 'blackness' in early Christian discourse. However, Byron's strength lies in challenging some of the previous assertions about notable cases of 'blacks' in patristic writings, exegesis, Biblical passions and commentary, and monastic writings based on the desert fathers of  Egypt. Any discussion of early Christianity and "blackness" raises a number of interesting questions about the history of the religion, its relation to the Roman Empire, Antiquity, and, hopefully, the actual "black" Christians in northeast Africa (Nubia, Aksum) or beyond. The implications of this will reverberate in more recent centuries of evangelization and conversion in Africa 

First, one must ascertain whether one agrees with the collective 'black' group of Egypt and Ethiopia for analyzing the discourse on race, color, and ethnic difference in ethno-political rhetoric of early Christianity. Some, for instance, might take issue with Byron's inclusion of Egyptians as 'black.' One can see see why one would, particularly given a later chapter's focus on how monastic communities in Roman Egypt distanced themselves from "Ethiopians" (Ethiopians in this context refers to dark-skinned people from Africa, not necessarily modern Ethiopia). However, if one remembers that blackness can be broad and reads the Greco-Roman and Christian sources, one could find numerous examples of pre-Christian Greco-Roman literature and Christian writings that refer to Egyptians as "blacks" or associate them (alongside Ethiopians) with ethno-political rhetoric that clearly lumps them as a collective 'black group.' In that sense, I concur with Byron including Egypt as part of this trend in Greco-Roman literature around the Mediterranean, because we have examples from Herodotus, Aristotle, a plethora of Greco-Roman writers, Greek Alexandrians, and Christian references that clearly distinguish Egyptians from a presumably 'white' or intermediary color non-Egyptian peoples of the circum-Mediterranean used to refer to themselves (if Suetonius can compare Egyptians and Ethiopians to demons and emblems of darkness, clearly both groups were perceived as 'black' to some degree).

Upon establishing the veracity of Byron's categorizations, one can assess the remainder of her claims. She is certainly well-read in the necessary secondary sources on Greco-Roman and Christian views of blackness in Late Antiquity (she's clearly read Thompson, Brakke, Snowden, and a myriad of other classicists and specialists). Undoubtedly, negative views of blackness in the Greco-Roman world proliferated throughout the Mediterranean and shaped how Christian and Jewish communities perceived dark-skinned people, too. Indeed, as Thompson and others have established, Greco-Roman views of "blacks" (be they Egyptian, Ethiopian, or black, melas) as representatives of the extreme ends of the earth, blackness equated with immorality, lust, and evil, or ugliness and the use of color symbolism to associate blackness with moral inferiority, criminality, unpleasant odors, and other stereotypes influenced patristic literature and Christian thought. Indeed, as Byron intriguingly demonstrates, native Egyptians in Roman Egypt were marginalized, excluded from Roman citizenship, and elite Jews, Romans, and Greeks living in Alexandria all adopted a condescending and superior attitude to Egyptians. Furthermore, Egyptians were equated with geographical extremity, mythic idealization, described as dark-skinned or black, and equated with evil, heresy, and sin by Jewish and early Christian communities. These numerous parallels with pejorative and negative views of Ethiopians by Greco-Roman figures from Juvenal to the Church Fathers with views of Egyptians certainly helps make the case for viewing them as a whole rather than separate groups in relation to lighter-skinned Greeks, Romans, and Near Eastern populations.

Let's look at Byron's take on some examples of Christian adoption and adaptation of broader Roman views of blackness and how that shaped Christianity. For instance, the use of blackness, Ethiopians, and Egyptians as polemical devices in the work of Tertullian, who used the notion of Egypt and Ethiopia as sinful lands to discourage Christians from attending spectacles (or other events popular among pagans in the Roman Empire). Writers such as Jerome refer to Ethiopians as 'blackened' by their sins while Origen looks at the black bride in Song of Songs as a metaphor for the Gentile Church, which, becomes beautiful and white through conversion and baptism. So ethno-political rhetoric of Christian authors could reflect poorly on blacks as sinful, heretics such as the Arianist or Nestorian 'heresies,' and lustful as in the stories of Egyptian monastic communities and their fear of Ethiopian demons symbolizing lust and temptation. Or "blacks" could be used (Egyptians, Ethiopians, and blackness) to express the inclusive, universal extent of Christian salvation (such as in the works of Augustine, Origen, or even the stories of Moses the Black in Upper Egyptian monastic communities). This is not too surprising, and something observable in non-Christian Greco-Roman literature (Pliny and a few others write positively of blacks, despite the difference in what Thompson refers to as black deviance from the somatic norm of the Roman world).

Where it differs, however, is in how Christianity was, by its very nature, inevitably tied to the idea of universal salvation through the proselytizing efforts of early Christians such as Paul. Blacks could assimilate in the Roman world (such as, perhaps, the writer, Terence, of Carthage), just as in Christianity ('blacks' in Egyptian monasteries or Egyptian Christians themselves were proof of black inclusion, as were the tales of the Ethiopian eunuch from Acts 8:26). Christianity's radical equalizing message about the disappearance of status, ethnic difference, and slave or free in the eyes of God, however, was a far more egalitarian message than anything found among the pagan elite of the Roman Empire. If differences such as Gentile or Jew, Scythian or barbarian, slave or free, ultimately did not matter before Christ, Christianity offered a far more fulfilling and welcoming space for ethnic difference than it is given credit for. Of course, rhetoric is different from reality, and clearly social divisions within Christian communities based on ethnic difference, class, and status shaped the evolution of the faith (and it's numerous heresies, divisive church councils, etc.), as one would expect. But the promise of universalism and Christian redemption meant even the blackest of Ethiopians could be washed 'white' or have a 'white soul' if they accept Christianity.

Thus, despite some ugly color symbolism and discomforting ethno-political rhetoric, it is known for certain that some Christian writers did not mean literal 'black' populations when using Ethiopians, Egyptians, and blackness as metaphors for sinfulness, lust, or demons. It nevertheless can be used to suggest blackness is demonic or aesthetically inferior, but as Origen's commentary on the black bride shows, Christianity was 'black' in its early years but purified and washed white by orthodox, non-heretical practices and inclusiveness. If even the blackest Ethiopians and whitest Scythians were eligible for redemption, then all corners of the oikumene and everything in between are welcomed to Christian fraternity. Now, what we wish Byron had demonstrated in these chapters is a dedication to unveiling the etymology of blackness as a sign of moral shortcomings and evil in the Christian context. Did this just arise from Zoroastrianism and previous religions, or perhaps something embedded in ancient religious thought (an association of blackness with evil, moral darkness, and ugliness?). Of course, we know that in ancient Egypt blackness was associated with fertility and divinity, but how did the predominantly "anti-black" view of darkness spread in the Roman world?

We also believe Byron's work was weakened by a lack of attention to the question of Egyptian perceptions of their southern neighbors during the Christian era. Or a better answer as to the composition of many of the monastic communities of Egypt (where these 'desert fathers' fostered the model for Christian monasticism that would later spread to the 'West') instead of saying some were lowly Copts at the bottom of Egyptian society whereas others were Hellenized elites. The cosmopolitan, unstable, and multiethnic Upper Egypt-Nubia border deserves a more detailed description and overview to properly place Egyptian views of 'blackness' in Late Antiquity in the proper context. Byron is probably right that the violent raids and burglaries committed by invading Blemmyes and other 'black' peoples ransacking Upper Egypt in the late Roman period shaped the later recordings of stories attributed to monks of facing temptation and danger from "Ethiopian demons." What was the 'racial climate' of Roman Egypt during this period of Blemmyes' and Nubian military threat? Clearly the situation on the ground was more complex as some Nubians continued to worship the old gods like Isis at the temple at Philae, while others would adopt Christianity or even join the monks! How can one accurately describe Egyptians using ethno-political rhetoric in Christian writings against other dark-skinned people? Was this an instance of "defensive othering" on the part of Egyptians? Of course, the question of malodorous black women tempting Egyptian monks speaks more to their attraction to black women (though women were rare and all generalized as the embodiment of physical pleasure and lust by monks), but the question of gender dynamics and self-denigration of blacks to be fully incorporated (Moses the Black was taunted, insulted, and mocked for the color of his skin to test virtues of a monk, such as apathy and patience), suggests pejorative connotations of "blackness" in society. Stories of Anthony and Moses the Black were not recorded until decades or centuries after the historical figures lived, but it provides some insight onto how ethno-political discourse used the political and social realities of the day to frame "blackness" in Christian Egypt. 

Overall, Byron's text is thought-provoking and a worthwhile read, but too brief. It avoids answering some larger questions. Byron had no interest in psychoanalysis of some of these patristic writers or other classical sources, but more inclusion of psychoanalysis and theories of race or ethnic difference would have added more nuance to the discussion. A fuller discussion of 'race' in the Nile Valley, specifically mention of Nubian Christianity, and Aksumite conversion to the faith would have some important implications for the theory of ethnopolitical rhetorical discourse and "blackness" in a Late Antique and "medieval" context. That is the next frontier, a fuller and more integrative look at African Christianity in Nubia, and Ethiopia, which could shed light on how those territories embraced, adapted, adopted, or rejected the symbolic "blackness" of early Christianity. Another question, how pervasive were elite Roman and Greek views of 'blackness' in Egypt then? Was there a trickle down effect of certain color symbolism and stereotypes ideologically throughout the expanding Christian world?