Faras

We came across a fascinating video showing some of the beautiful works of art recovered from Faras (in Nubia) on Youtube. In the Women of 1000 AD project, the list of sources for Queen Martha included a link to a related video.

Des jésuites au royaume du prêtre Jean

Des jésuites au royaume du prêtre Jean (Ethiopie): stratégies, rencontres et tentatives d'implantation, 1495-1633 by Hervé Pennec is another study of the Jesuits and the mission in Ethiopia. Since the scholarly literature and written sources on the topic is vast, Pennec proposes new interpretations and questions about the subject. While revisiting the sources and challenging readers to reconsider the strategies and tactics employed by both the Jesuits and ruler Susenyos, one can see that the topic of the Jesuits in Ethiopia and this transformation of Prester John of myth into the "real" Ethiopia which the Latin West engaged in the Early Modern Period still raises many questions.

The first third of the book begins with Portugal's early relations with the Christian kingdom of Ethiopia, and how Ignatius of Loyola (and others) mistakenly assumed the Abyssinian ruler was ready to submit to Christ. Relying on outdated information from Alvares, plus the issue of Bermudes and his claim to be Roman Catholic patriarch, confusion abounded. Despite being well-informed on some aspects of Ethiopia, the founder of the Jesuit order wrongly believed that Ethiopia was ready for submission to the papacy. Of course, Galadewos had no interest in doing such a thing, and the early wave of Jesuits in Ethiopia found themselves largely on the periphery. Still, despite their small numbers in the second half of the 16th century, Ethiopian religious literature engaged in a Christological written (and oral) debate with the Jesuit missionaries, particularly once Susenyos converted to Catholicism in 1622. Despite their complete lack of success in converting Ethiopian rulers, the early Jesuits did proselytize and preach to Luso-Ethiopians, maintaining Roman Catholicism among descendants of Portuguese in Abyssinia. Moreover, Goa, as the capital of Portuguese India and center of the Jesuit missions in the Orient, was also an early example of a periphery being arguably more important or essential for the survival of the Jesuit mission in Ethiopia than Rome, Portugal and Spain. Goa, much closer to the Jesuit missions and capable of receiving and sending information more quickly, shaped the decisions on personnel who were ultimately sent to Ethiopia. This was no simple matter, since Ottoman control of the Red Sea made the matter more difficult.

Pennec likewise focuses on how the Jesuits, once able to establish a foothold again in 1603, particularly with the arrival of Pero Paes. Whilst it would take several more years before an Ethiopian ruler converted to Catholicism, one can begin to see here the Jesuits establishing stone churches and residences (with Ethiopian workers and at least one Indian). By erecting churches in stone, some beautifully designed, the Jesuits were implanting themselves in the kingdom on a more permanent basis. By doing so, they were also increasingly drawn into what Pennec sees as royally-sponsored churches. Gifts of land (gult), money, supplies, and the involvement of Susenyos in the ceremony culminating the completion of churches was partly a way for Susenyos to assert his power. This meat that Susenyos, and his brother who converted to Catholicism before him, were incorporating the Jesuits into a familiar patter of royal sponsorship and assertions of power, particularly in Gojjam and around Lake Tana. While the Jesuits undoubtedly benefitted from receiving lands, supplies, funds, and elite backers, they were also part of a strategy of Ethiopian rulers to express their power, which even included enlisting the Jesuits (or the masons among them) to construct stone palaces and monumental architecture for him. This complex process was followed by the Jesuit experience in Ethiopia after the conversion of Susenyos. Part of this complex relationship was also due to Susenyos's desire for Spanish troops to be sent to Ethiopia to help him as a prerequisite for converting, while the Jesuits told him he would have to submit to the papacy before any European troops would come to his aid.

With the 1620s, Pero Paes died but Susenyos's conversion gave the Jesuits their legitimacy and renewed the mission by the arrival of more missionaries. Although a failure within ten years, as Susenyos abdicated and his son, Fasiladas, later exiled the Jesuits, one can see this experience as the zenith of the mission. More missionaries on the ground, conversions of more Ethiopians (although the numbers given by the Jesuits are problematic, it seems that Gojjam had more converts), and Susenyos sidelining his Catholic brother as a supporter of the Catholics. Nonetheless, the mission's short-lived success came to an end with Susenyos's abdication. Pennec's study is less focused on this period, highlighting how Paes and d'Almeida's histories of Ethiopia must be analyzed carefully for the ways in which the authors engaged with Ethiopian written sources, especially the royal chronicle on the reign of Susenyos. Paes especially, despite his nearly 20 years spent in Ethiopia and his familiarity with ge'ez and Amharic, must be interpreted for the ways they cite, paraphrase, and refute Ethiopian sources. For instance, the question of the metropolitan accused of fathering children, drinking, and abusing his ecclesiastical authority in Paes's redaction of the chronicle of Susenyos, and being involved in a revolt in 1617 against the king, may not necessarily be an insertion by Paes. It is possible that later versions of the chronicle after Susenyos's reign censored that segment of the chronicle, but Paes, who was of course biased against the metropolitan sent from Egypt, may have been closer to the truth.

Christianity in the Sudan

Giovanni Vantini's Christianity in the Sudan is a dated work which, by and large, is mainly about Christian Nubia. Heavily based on the corpus of "Oriental" sources (plus some European ones) Vantini published, much of the text is like reading that compilation with some narrative commentary. It was a refresher for certain points in the history of medieval Nubia that we have forgotten about, but without any deeper investigation of the source materials, rather limited. Fortunately, advances by archaeologists and studies of Old Nubian and other textual sources has shed more light on the nature of the Nubian political system, economic structure, and religion. For instance, Dotawo is now more widely accepted as being the same state as Makuria. Sadly, Alwa, in Upper Nubia, remains a mystery in Vantini's text, but that is no surprise given the year this work was published (1980). More intriguingly for those interested in the later centuries of medieval Nubia, one can find here useful Western sources on Nubia and some important references to the Vatican's attempts to replant the Christian seed in Nubia. Some of this correspondence even touches upon the Kwararafa south of Borno, confusingly believed by some Europeans in Tripoli to have been Christians. Last, but certainly not least, some European sources also alluding to the survival of Christianity in pockets of Nubia as late as the 1740s suggest fruitful areas of research for scholars interested in Christian traces in Nubian culture. 

The Tabaqat and Sudanic Africa

MacMichael's abridged translation of the Tabaqat in A History of the Arabs in the Sudan and Some Account of the People who Preceded Them and of the Tribes Inhabiting Dárfūr, Volume 2 is outdated and probably riddled with errors. That said, it is, to our knowledge, the most complete English translation of a major source on the history of the Islamic holymen of the Funj Sultanate. Written in the early 1800s by Muhammad wad Dayf Allah, it contains rich biographies loaded with anecdotes, stories, miracles, and portraits of the lives of major figures in Sudanese Islam since the 16th century. Moreover, some of the biographies illustrate the Islamic ties to Kordofan, Darfur, Borno, Wadai, Hausaland, the Maghreb, Egypt, the Arabian Peninsula, and more. Let us take a closer look at some of these ties to Sudanic Africa

First of all, it is interesting to note that one of the major founding figures associated with Sufism in Sudan was Tag El Din Bahari, a native of Baghdad (in the translation of MacMichael, his full name is given as Muhammad El Bahari Tag El Din El Baghdadi). He arrived in the Sudan after completing the pilgrimage and is frequently mentioned in the text for his students and acolytes. There is no evidence of contacts for this Sufi teacher and al-Baghdadi of Air, yet one cannot help but notice the presence of two Iraqi Sufis of major import in both the Air region and in the Funj Sultanate in the 16th century. Given the evidence of later contacts by the 1600s between the Eastern Sudan and Central Sudan, one should delve deeper into the history of Sufism and Eastern influences on its practices in Air, Hausaland, and Borno, possibly tracing signs of influence or exchange with the domain of the Funj rulers. 

Additional signs of contact with the Central Sudan can be seen in the case of Muhammad ibn Adlan el Shaf'ai El Hoshabi, said to have done missionary work in Borno and Hausaland (256). Alas, there is no precise date given to make sense of the chronology of his time in the Central Sudan. Yet we know from Krump's account of his travels in the Sudan, that caravans including Borno and Fezzan Sufis and travelers were going to the Funj Sultanate. Thus, by the early 18th century, it was at least not unheard of for Sufis to travel between the Fezzan and Borno and the Sinnar Sultanate in caravans. Indeed, one of the holymen included in the Tabaqat was allegedly from the Fezzan, Abdulla el Sherif (227). In fact, some of the holymen of Funj kingdom even studied under West Africans in eastern lands. For instance, Khogali ibn Abd el Rahman ibn Ibrahim studied in Medina under Sheikh Ahmad el Tabankatawi el Fellati (250). The latter, whose precise origins are unclear in MacMichael's translation, was probably from the Western or Central Sudan but established in Medina, where he was an influential scholar of Islamic studies. Amusingly, MacMichael translates the anecdote of Khogali ibn Abd el Rahman ibn Ibrahim stopping Bukr of Darfur from attacking Sennar by striking him with his rod (251).

Additional holymen from the Funj sultanate who traveled to western lands included Abu Surur El Fadli, who taught in Darfur and was murdered in Wadai by his concubines (229). Likewise, Abu Zayd ibn el Sheikh Abd el Kadir traveled to Darfur and Borku during the reign of Sultan Ya'akub, said to have ruled in Wadai from 1681-1701 and to have lost a war with Ahmad Bukr of Darfur (281). Last, but certainly not least, Hasan ibn Hasuna ibn El Haj Musa, who died in 1664, was a wealthy holyman who owned many slaves and livestock. He was said to have traded many horses to Tekali, Borku and Darfur (244). This last individual's trading ventures establishes the tie between commerce and religion as well as the significance of the horse trade with areas far to the west of the Nile. Undoubtedly, the expansion of Muslim-ruled states in Darfur and Wadai favored this economic, cultural, and religious exchange with both the Funj Sultanate and Borno. Alas, the absence of a Tabaqat for Borno, Kanem, Wadai and Darfur makes it harder to explore these connections and movements that entailed commerce, Sufism, and Islamic scholarship. 

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.

Archaeology and the Meroitic State

The Archaeology of the Meroitic State: New perspectives on its social and political organisation by David N. Edwards is an interesting, yet short read. Arguing in favor of the Meroitic state (and perhaps during its Napatan phase and even the state of Kerma) as a Sudanic one resembling medieval and early modern states like the Darfur Sultanate, Borno, and the Funj or Sinnar Sultanate, Edwards believes the Meroitic state must be reconceived. Although the impact of Egyptian civilization and influences is undeniable in Kush, the role of the environment and archaeological evidence suggests the Meroitic state was founded upon different principles than that of Egypt. 

Instead of the control of production with ample surpluses, Nubia, especially Lower Nubia before the adoption of the waterwheel or saqia by the 300s, the kingdom was likely a segmentary state with the power of the rulers based on "trade" and warfare. In this case, the Meroitic rulers controlled "trade" or exchange with the North and through a redistribution network to provincial elites, controlled other provinces (loosely). The state's military capacity was likely also significant since military force and raiding could ensure a supply of locally valuable commodities (like livestock) and, through subjugated territories, access to gold, ivory, slaves, and other valuable exports to the north. 

Much of the book tries to fit Lower Nubia into this model, based on analyses of settlement patterns and data from cemeteries or burials. While much work remains to be done, if Lower Nubia's population truly was so low during this period of Meroitic "resettlement," then the theory of Edwards that these settlements were likely oriented to continue or ensure central government control of the routes to trade with Egypt for Mediterranean or Near Eastern prestige goods (later redistributed through the royally-controlled distribution network across the state). Thus, Meroe's "fall" in the 4th century may have had more to do with the loss of control of northern trade from the royal court, eventually leading to provincial elites severing ties while Blemmyes and Nobadaes settled in Lower Nubia in larger numbers. Since we don't know enough about the Meroitic state in relation to its core area (where it presumably exerted far more direct control and was better able to tap into local production and control access to water sources), one wonders about the core of the state's productive capacity for locally produced prestige goods. Despite the limited evidence from archaeology and our inability to read Meroitic inscriptions, the idea of the Meroitic state being "Sudanic" is an interesting hypothesis.

Rome in the Nubian and Ethiopian Imagination

We found this talk by Giovanni Ruffini on Rome in the Ethiopian and Nubian Imagination to be fascinating and a worthwhile listen. Anything accessible yet serious about medieval Nubia is worthy of attention and should be disseminated to all interested parties. 

Nubia and Ethiopia

Enjoy a nice overview on medieval Nubia and Ethiopia by Adam Simmons. Very interesting lecture. 

Sirat al-Habasha

E.J. van Donzel's translation of A Yemenite Embassy to Ethiopia 1647-1694: Al-Haymi's Sirat Al- Habasha is an interesting account by a Yemeni traveler to the court of Fasiladas in the 1640s. Although the Yemeni envoy failed since Fasiladas was not actually interested in converting to Islam, his brief account, too vague in some parts, adds another perspective on the diplomatic policy of the Ethiopian ruler (as well as the intrigue and conflict within the royal court). The Ethiopian emperor was only interested in improving the security of the route to the Red Sea port of Baylul, believing that closer relations with Yemen and a regular exchange of envoys would attract more merchants (the Yemeni envoys traveled with soldiers, and the improvement of security along the route could have made Ethiopia less dependent upon Turkish-ruled Massawa. However, the insecurity caused by the Oromo near the route, plus its desolate, desert conditions, inhibited the development of trade via Baylul. Indeed, as explained by van Donzel, the Yemeni imam's success in defeating the Ottoman Turks was likely another reason why Fasiladas was interested in closer relations. Unfortunately, for al-Haymi and the ruler of Yemen, Fasiladas was only interested in trade, and even the hint of a possible conversion sparked opposition from members of the court in Gondar.

Despite the failure of Fasiladas to establish closer ties and increase the significance of the Baylul for Red Sea trade, al-Haymi's account suggests other areas in which the negus was successful. For instance, he was able to neutralize an abuna who was perceived as too powerful (and corrupt), imprisoning him on an island in Lake Tana. His brother, called Claudius by Lobo, was also imprisoned due to the threat of his military leadership. In fact, Fasiladas's full brother was also supposedly sympathetic to the Jesuits and Catholics. Of course, al-Haymi, who saw Fasiladas's leadership fail in instances like the arson committed against his lodgings on more than one occasion or in the way some officials ignored their orders to protect the Yemeni envoys on their return, had a more negative perspective. To him, Fasiladas was said to have been a drunk and unaware of the occurrences in the provinces due to his conniving ministers (who were also accused of corruption, bribery, and oppression). Nonetheless, the ruler was able to establish a royal capital with an impressive royal castle, supposedly built by an Indian. In addition, the royal court was splendidly attired, showing the ostentation and lavish consumption of the Ethiopian elite. Surely these demonstrate the power of the Ethiopian rulers in terms of acquiring luxury goods and the capacity of the Gondar rulers to built monumental architecture. Fasiladas was also able to eliminate possible threats to the throne and avoid plunging the kingdom into further religious conflict or divisions. Furthermore, Fasiladas was able to convert many of the Falasha to Christianity, albeit through violent means. 

In other respects, al-Haymi's account also provides some account of Ethiopia's religious diversity and cosmopolitanism. The Indian architect of the royal castle was said to have built it in an Indian style. The Ethiopian elite used luxury goods like mattresses and silks imported from distant lands, such as India and the Middle East or swords from Sinnar. The Arabic interpreter for the king was a sharif who converted to Christianity and may have come from Bukhara in Central Asia. Even al-Haymi, who lamented the lack of intellectual accomplishment among most Christians, found inquisitive minds among some Christians and Muslims in Gondar. Despite Christian hostility to any local conversion to Islam and the alleged ignorance of the monks, Solomonic Ethiopia under Fasiladas was a cosmopolitan place and well-connected to other powers of the region and beyond. 

Ethiopia and Alexandria

Stuart C. Munro-Hay's Ethiopia and Alexandria: The Metropolitan Episcopacy of Ethiopia is perhaps somewhat dated but an interesting read. Focusing on relations between the Patriarchate of Alexandria and the Aksumite (then the Zagwe and Solomonic Dynasties) kingdom from Frumentius in the 4th century to Amda Tseyon in the 14th century, Munro-Hay's study illustrates how important our sources on the Patriarchs of Alexandria are for reconstructing Ethiopian (and Nubian) history. While much of the period covered in this book are well-trod and familiar to anyone interested in Aksumite and medieval Ethiopian history, the emphasis on Alexandria's connection to Abyssinia provides a different focus for one of the remarkable relationships of Christian history. Indeed, the very relocation of the Patriarchate of Alexandria to Cairo was, in part, motivated by the easier communication with Nubia and Ethiopia. Moreover, the chronicles and other Coptic, Syriac, Arabic, Greek and Ge'ez sources highlight the international role of the patriarchs as a major force in Egyptian relations with Nubia and Ethiopia during after the Muslim conquest of Egypt. 

Unfortunately, some of the gaps in our knowledge of the later centuries of the Aksumite king and the paucity of clear data and chronologies on the transition from the Aksumite rulers to the Zagwe dynasy are not clarified by the familiar sources on the Coptic Church. Nonetheless, the sources on the patriarchs, the metropolitans they appointed for Ethiopia, and correspondence between Egyptian and Abyssinian rulers do seem to confirm the chronology of the Zagwe dynasty favored by Munro-Hay. Nonetheless,Munro-Hay had to rely on speculation for some of the possible omissions of metropolitans in Ethiopia, the melkite and Jacobite metropolitans, and the legends of Gudit, late Aksumite kings lists, and Ethiopian relations with the Nubian kingdoms. Indeed, it is the relatively unknown nature of relations between the Nubian statea of Makuria and Alwa with Abyssinia that are most interesting. 

While Solomonic rulers like Yekuno Amlak and his son corresponded with the Mamluk sultans of Egypt via a Yemeni ruler as an intermediary, the land route to Egypt, via the Nubians, was an important route. Numerous envoys, metropolitans, and traders traveled through the route, but Nubian-Ethiopian relations are sadly still a topic of conjecture. Makuria and Alwa were also in the position of having local bishops or metropolitans, with the confirmation by the patriarch in Egypt. Surely, one would think Aksumite and later Ethiopian rulers would have also attempted to force the Coptic Church to recognize local metropolitans, too. Yet despite this, the Ethiopian rulers remained dependent on Alexandria to appoint metropolitans who, in turn, ensured local bishops and clergy could be created. In fact, Nubia appeared. to have played a supportive role in helping Abyssinia regain the favor of Alexandria while both Northeast African Christian regions also saw themselves as supporters of the Christian communities of Egypt. In fact, a perhaps large number of Copts even fled to Nubia and Ethiopia to escape Muslim persecutions 

Yohannes and Gondar

Although the Gondarine era of the Solomonic Dynasty has long been an area of interest, we are only recently digging into more of the European translations of primary sources from that era. In this case, Guidi's French translation of the chronicle of Yohannes, who reigned from 1667 to 1682, serves as a brief introduction to royal chronicles from this era in Ethiopian history. The son of Fasiladas, a number of important events and developments occurred during the reign of Yohannes. Yohannes, for example, finally expelled the "Franks" or remnants of the Luso-Ethiopian population. Perhaps to maintain the image of the Emperor as just, pious, and peace-loving, the chronicler attributes the expulsion to agitation among the mons of Ethiopia. Thus, decades after the end of the Jesuit mission, the legacy of religious strife and conflict with Roman Catholicism lingered in Ethiopia's monastic circles. As for the remnants of the "Franks" in Ethiopia, they were marched toward Sennar, in today's Sudan, and their firearms were supposedly kept by the Ethiopians. Only those who converted to Ethiopian Christianity were allowed to stay. Franks who came to Ethiopia to promote Roman Catholicism were even executed, as happened to "Franks" who endeavored to pass as Egyptians. Yohannes also decreed residential segregation, forcing Muslims, Falasha and Turks to live in separate quarters or areas instead of cohabiting the same quarters as Christians. To what extent this was actually implemented across the kingdom is unclear. 

The son of Fasiladas also attempted to unify the Church through councils that promoted a single view on the nature of Christ and the Trinity. These theological disputes and debates led to the development of "heretics" in Lasta who opposed Yohannes. In addition, the "pagan" Agaw rebelled against the Solomonic authority while occasional rebellions, Oromo attacks, "Paysan" revolts, conspiracies from members of the royal family and monk rebels threatened royal authority. Interestingly, the chronicler of Yohannes mentions the strategic practice of deforestation to clear paths and subdue Agaw rebels. In addition, Yohannes used his authority and court-affiliated Church leaders to promote unity in religious doctrine and attempt to reunify the state. Indeed, it was quite amazing how Yohannes managed to find enough time to spend the rainy season in Gondar after so much time in most years of his reign campaigning across the empire. In fact, one of the rebels, Fares, even invited the ruler of Adal to help dethrone Yohannes. Certain iniquitous persons in Gondar even promoted discord between Yohannes and his future successor, Iyasu I. 

Since the chronicle is written from an official standpoint, and must, to a certain extent, only record what the emperor or his successor would have allowed to be written, one must look at other types of sources to assist with the reconstruction of Solomonic Ethiopia under Yohannes. For example, looking to Egyptian, Funj, Ottoman, Portuguese, and other sources certainly elucidates aspects of this era hidden or peripheral to the interests of royal chronicles. Since the chronicles also very much depict the ruler as a legitimate heir to Solomon and ruling in accordance with Christian principles, Yohannes emerges as a just, generous, wise, capable, God-fearing man with few or no faults. One must wonder if he really was not the driving force behind the incarceration of his siblings when he acceded to the throne. Likewise, one must wonder about the conflicts between him and his son, or for that matter, between him and some of the peoples against whom he campaigned throughout his time on the throne. Nonetheless, his ability to maintain some degree of stability after the foundations established by Fasiladas is a testament to his capability to reign effectively. Unfortunately for him, it seems that Ethiopian Christianity, perhaps due to the recent controversies and conflict with the Jesuits, was set on course for more internal conflicts which contributed to the weakening of royal authority. As long as the Gondar-period rulers were competent, some degree of balance could be maintained between the various warring segments of the Church, state, and provinces. When that was lost, all centrifugal tendencies were intensified. 

Ancient and Medieval Ethiopian History to 1270

Ancient and Medieval Ethiopian History to 1270 by Sergew Hable Selassie has long been one of those studies of Ethiopian history on our reading list. Since we consider ourselves rather ignorant of Ethiopian history of the pre-Aksumite and Aksumite era, we considered this monograph by an Ethiopian scholar to be an important work to at least acquaint ourselves with some of the basic facts, controversies, and developments in Ethiopia before the Solomonic dynasty. To a certain extent, this book, though outdated by 2023, succeeds in those respects. An early chapter provides a detailed review of the historiography on Ethiopia's past, with useful commentary on the strengths and weaknesses of both Ethiopian and foreign historians. Much of our knowledge of Ethiopia's ancient past, at least when this book was published in the 1970s, was limited by the state of archaeological excavations. Nonetheless, the rather voluminous corpus of written sources, inscriptions, chronicles, hagiographies, travel narratives, and oral traditions has made it possible to construct a narrative of Ethiopia's past from ancient Egyptian trade with Punt to 1270.

Although Selassie stresses Aksumite civilization as an indigenous development and sees continuity through the history of Ethiopia, a number of issues arise in his use of the sources. First, his use of chronicles and hagiographies with several anachronisms, likely written centuries after the events they describe, suggest greater caution is necessary when attempting to make sense of their accuracy for events in the remote past. For instance, the author accepts the theory that Takla Haymanot and Iyasus Mo'a were both pivotal to the "Solomonic Restoration" in spite of the fact that the actual production of the literature on these two holy figures was written in contexts and dates that are filled with contradictions. In addition, the author accepts what more contemporary authors would describe as "political fictions" of Aksumite suzerainty of South Arabia, Nubia and other regions. While much of this may be due to the limited sources available for certain eras in Aksumite history, such as the later centuries of the Aksumite state and the paucity of internal textual sources for the Zagwe dynasty, this sometimes dangerous reliance on certain types of Ethiopian sources is occasionally problematic. It does not clarify, for instance, what transpired after Caleb's reign in Aksum. It also may not reflect accurately the real chronology of Aksumite kings or Zagwe rulers. In addition, the problematic legends about Gudit, some of which present her as a Jew, are clearly problematic, too, although the existence of a powerful queen who threatened Aksum is reported in the external Arabic sources. Too much uncertainty in the sources, anachronisms that refer to places such as Sennar centuries before their foundation, and the clearly legendary nature of some anecdotes or claims suggest a need for more cautious interpretation of these sources. 

To his credit, Selassie understands the limitations of some of the sources and reaches conclusions that are tentative. To the extent possible, he uses Coptic, Arabic, Greek, and other sources to corroborate some developments, especially the Aksumite influence in South Arabia under Caleb or the arrival of the Nine Saints in Ethiopia. Chronicles of the Alexandria patriarchs, Egyptian sources, Byzantine writers like Procopius, Persian histories and inscriptions from pre-Islamic South Arabia certainly do corroborate much of this information. Indeed, they support the author's contention that Abyssinia was not isolated and was actually a major player in the economic, religious and political affairs in the Red Sea region, Mediterranean, Middle East and northeast Africa. However, one wishes the author had not conflated all references to "Ethiopia" in the ancient sources as actual references to today's Ethiopia. Some of the references used by the author are obviously allusions to Nubia or Kush, such as the tale of the Ethiopian Eunuch or Taharqa of the Bible. Other bizarre occasions of the use of medieval Arabic sources include interpreting one Arabic source as referring, at least in part, to modern Ethiopia due to the geographer's use of "Abyssinia" (Habashat) to refer generally to "Black Africa" as known in the 9th century. Last, but certainly not least, the unnecessary full quotation of the forged letter from Prester John in the 12th century is excessive and serves no purpose. While "India" and "Ethiopia" were often conflated in the ancient and medieval eras, and stories of the Christian kingdom in the Ethiopian highlands would have reached parts of the Latin West during the 1100s, the letter from the Prester John situates the kingdom in the East. Sure, Ethiopia was later associated with the land of Prester John, but the letter cited extensively by Selassie reveals nothing about Ethiopia under the Zagwe kings.

Despite its limitations and the somewhat problematic use of the sources, Ancient and Medieval Ethiopian History to 1270 does fill in several gaps in the historical reconstruction of the Ethiopian past. The Aksumite civilization was undoubtedly a major civilization with an impact stretching across the Red Sea. In truth, Aksum was of major importance when it dominated the southern Red Sea, as it could play a dominant role in the trade of goods from India to the Mediterranean. Later Aksumite and Zagwe relations with Nubia and Egypt also suggest the importance of relations between Nubia and Ethiopia by this time. The overland trade and pilgrimage routes, the migration of Copts  to Ethiopia, the close relationship with the See of Alexandria, and Nubian-Ethiopian relations and contacts must have been of major importance for Ethiopia. Unfortunately, we only find glimpses of it in the sources. That a Nubian king helped convince the Patriarch to appoint a new metropolitan for Ethiopia and both regions experienced moments of peace and conflict with the Beja and the Muslim powers neighboring them are significant for inter-religious conflict, dialogue, trade, and the spread of new ideas. To what extent the civilizations influenced each other and their relations with other parts of Africa is question future scholars may one day elucidate. One would hope that the history of the later Aksumite state and the Zagwe dynasty could someday contribute to the study of medieval Nubia and vice versa. 

The Domain of the Solomonic Kings

Zara Yacob

Derat's  Le domaine des rois éthiopiens (1270-1527): Espace, pouvoir et monachisme is a fascinating study of Solomonic Ethiopia. Derat makes an interesting case for the centrality of Amhara and Sawa as "domains" of the Solomonic rulers in the period 1270-1527. If her interpretation of the royal chronicles, hagiographical literature, monastic chronicles, and other sources (especially Arab Faqih, Francisco Alvares, and other exogenous writings) is correct, then the tradition of Takla Haymanot playing a key role in the rise of the Solomonic dynasty under Yekuno Amlak is an invented one that did not reflect what actually happened in 1270. Instead, she proposes that Dabra Asbo/Libanos (the monastery started by Takla Haymanot in the region of Sawa) invented the tradition of their founder having a central role in the rise of the Solomonic dynasty to increase their prestige. Instead, Dabra Hayq, a monastery started in the 1200s by Iyasus Mo'a, appears to have been more central in the early rise of Yekuno Amlak against the Zagwe dynasty. 

She also suggests that these monastic networks were vital for the expansion and extension of the Solomonic dynasty in the two provinces of Amhara and Sawa, mountainous provinces that are defensible and, in the case of the latter, agriculturally rich. So, the Solomonic rulers, especially Zara Ya'eqob and his successors in the 1400s, began to establish and build more monasteries and churches in the provinces (and nearby ones that were recently conquered from Muslims or pagans) and in the process, force prestigious (and formerly autonomous monasteries, like Dabra Asbo) to supply clerics and monks to the religious foundations. In order to grease the wheels, kings like Zara Ya'eqob gave more land as gult or rest to these monasteries, appointed abbots (or tried to do so), used royal monasteries and churches as centers for councils that affected religious policy, and even used others as tombs for kings and pilgrimage centers. She argues that Amhara, and especially Sawa (and later Gojjam) became solidly part of the Solomonic kingdom through these religious networks in which the kings increasingly dominated religious policy and sought to use the "monastic holy man" as a pillar of the kingdom. Unfortunately, Derat's book is somewhat repetitive and her evidence relies on deductions that hope to make sense of fragmentary or contradictory hagiographies and traditions.

But she makes a persuasive case that the image of the monastic holy man changed. Monasteries like Dabra Asbo/Libanos, which once prized the martyr and depicted the Solomonic rulers as corrupt or heretics for having multiple wives, abusing their power, or seeking to change Church doctrine, later shifted to a new image of holiness in which the monastic leadership collaborated with the king to protect Christian society. As one can imagine, this process was part of the strengthening of Solomonic power in Amhara, Sawa and other provinces as the monastic and church network ultimately built or expanded bases of power for the Solomonic rulers. Even in this era of ambulant courts, Solomonic rulers made frequent visits to the religious foundations they sponsored, and those containing tombs for past rulers became centers of pilgrimage and commemoration of the Solomonic rulers. I guess it would have helped to see how this process differed in northern Ethiopia, like in Tigre, where the origins of Ethiopian monasticism could be found. Perhaps a hint can be seen in the way that Yekuno Amlak erected a church in Lasta, the center of the Zagwe dynasty, possibly inserting himself into the tradition of religious pilgrimage and sacred geography espoused by the Zagwe dynasty. Nevertheless, the most interesting figure to emerge out of this history is Zara Ya'eqob, the fascinating emperor who heavily promoted the cult of Mary, reduced the independence of Dabra Asbo, imposed the observation of the Saturday Sabbath, and convened councils on Church doctrine which were destined to support his own views. The guy also wrote a number of homilies and religious treaties and even had two of his wives killed for plotting against him.

I would still like to learn more about the actual process of Christianization of Sawa and other provinces, which is hinted at here or there. We also have some enigmatic references to the Falasha and other non-Christians but it would have been important to see how the Solomonic dynasty asserted itself and its legitimacy in other parts of the empire. Derat suggests some continuity from the Aksumite and Zagwe dynasties in terms of building churches as royal tombs but perhaps opening up to consider Christian rulership in Nubia and the Byzantine Empire would have been fruitful. After all, Ethiopians were still making the pilgrimage to Jerusalem, had contacts with the Coptic Church of Egypt (whose Patriarch also had Nubia in its jurisdiction) and may have sought to establish an Ethiopian "caesaropapism" that may have had parallels in medieval Nubia. Comparisons with Sudanic Africa, as suggested by Donald Crummey, may have been of use, too. After all, one can see some parallels with Islamic kingdoms in the Sudanic belt, despite the obvious differences between Islam and Christianity. The parallels, for instance, with the Sayfawa of Kanem-Borno may offer clues to the allegedly sacred royalty theme. Or, for instance, the support for religious foundations and Islamic holymen found in the Borno mahrams could potentially offer a similar case in which the Sayfawa dynasts used their patronage of Islamic holymen to buttress their authority in disparate regions of their empire. 

Aksum and Nubia

George Hatke's Aksum and Nubia: Warfare, Commerce, and Political Fictions in Ancient Northeast Africa is a short but rather persuasive study of Aksum's relations with Kush (Nubia) during the early centuries of our era. Based primarily on Aksumite sources such as inscriptions, relevant archaeological material, and occasionally Greco-Roman, Coptic, Syriac, and other Near Eastern textual sources, Hatke argues persuasively that Aksum and Kush, despite their proximity, did not interact in significant ways. Instead of being seen as commercial rivals or states which exerted significant influences on each other, the two appear to have only engaged in small-scale trade. Aksum was mainly oriented to the Red Sea and Indian Ocean for its commercial contacts with the broader world. Kush, or the Meroitic state, on the other hand, focused on the Nile and contacts with Egypt for its long-distance trade. Since the two northeast African polities possessed different commercial axes and thus did not have any reason to be commercial rivals, Aksum and Meroe engaged in small-scale trade without much interaction beyond this. Instead of any major cultural or economic influences on each other, Aksum's interests in the modern-day Sudan were more focused on the Beja/Blemmyes of the Eastern Desert. 

Indeed, records of Aksumite intervention or spheres of influence among the Beja to the borders of Roman Egypt in the 3rd century testify to the importance of security in the Eastern Desert area and Aksumite interests in the Red Sea coasts of Africa and Arabia. Aksum appears to have also been more invested in South Arabia, the Ethiopian Highlands, and parts of the Ethiopian-Sudan borderlands for economic and political expansion, with Nubia only being invaded during the reign of Ousanas and Ezana in the 4th century. In fact, according to Hatke, relying on the inscriptions of Ezanas and linguistic clues about Ge'ez, Greek, and South Arabian languages, has dated Ezana's famous Nubia campaign to March 360. His father appears to have also attacked Nubia, leaving evidence at Meroe itself. The son, however, was only in Nubia to launch a punitive campaign against the Noba, who had caused trouble on Aksum's frontier with groups such as the Barya. Meroe itself is not even mentioned in the inscriptions of Ezana's campaign, although some Kushite towns and people were undoubtedly captured or killed in the Aksumite raid. This political situation in Nubia possibly reflects the political fragmentation of Kush by 360, with Nubian-speaking Noba and Kushites perhaps acting independently of whatever authority remained at Meroe. Instead of Ezana wielding the final blow to Kush as an independent state, whatever authority was still claimed by the Kushite rulers may have been limited by the political fragmentation of Nubia. Further evidence from the toponyms in the inscriptions that Ezana's campaign did not affect Meroe but likely targeted towns to its north also suggest the ancient capital's demise should not be attributed to Aksum. 

Despite Aksumite claims to Kush as one of its vassal territories, the available evidence suggests this was often political fiction. Indeed, according to Hatke, it is very likely that Ezana's campaign in Nubia led to no long-last political suzerainty of the Noba. Furthermore, Aksumite sources from the 6th century king, Kaleb, also claimed Kush as part of Aksum's dominion, even though the Kushite state had ended by the late 4th century. Indeed, even in earlier moments in the 4th century, when Aksumite raids and campaigns reached Nubia, it is possible that the "tribute" sent by Kush to Aksum was actually more along the lines of gift diplomacy. Even the 6th contacts between Aksum and Nubia, suggested by Longinus meeting Aksumites in Alodia and the proposal by Emperor Justin to provide Nubian and Blemmye mercenaries for Aksum's use in Himyar, do not suggest large-scale trade, cultural influence or contacts. Nubia and Ethiopia, despite their proximity and some common interest in their frontier, and both impacted by the Eastern Desert nomads and the Beja, appear to have diverged from the period of Aksum's rise to the end of the kingdom. While the question of Nubian-Ethiopian contacts in the Middle Ages offers more avenues for contact, archaeologists have a lot of work to do in the borderlands.

Nubia, Ethiopia, and Latin Europe

Nubia, Ethiopia, and the Crusading World, 1095-1402 by Adam Simmons is one of the more interesting new books on medieval Nubia. Focusing on Latin Christian engagement and knowledge of medieval Nubia (Ethiopia of Antiquity) during the Crusades, Simmons argues rather persuasively that it was first Dotawo (Nubia) instead of Ethiopia that occupied Latin Europe's interest. Indeed, it is probable that medieval Nubia was the first African Prester John and Nubian interactions with Latin Europe, imagined or real, appear to have been the basis of Muslim Egypt's fears of a Christian military alliance. 

Moreover, Simmons draws on a vast corpus of texts, including those of Latin Europe, the Islamic world, and Eastern Christianity, to support his contention of growing Latin European knowledge and interest in Nubia. It was only later, after the Solomonic dynasty appropriated the name Ethiopia and news of Amda Seyon's exploits reached Europe, that the Abyssinian Solomonic state began to attract significant European interest. In fact, according to Simmons, Solomonic Ethiopia even appropriated the Candaces of ancient Nubia into the story of their Biblical origins. Apocalyptic traditions from Eastern Christianity predicting the meeting of a Nubian (Ethiopian) king and a Roman king also fueled interest in Nubia that was later transferred to Solomonic Ethiopia. 

The main problem with the text is the paucity of Nubian and Ethiopian sources to tell their side of the story. Without a comparable rich corpus of texts in Old Nubian (or, perhaps, Syriac, Coptic and Greek) and Ge'ez, this study remains quite speculative on how Nubians, and later Solomonic Ethiopia, shaped the discourse on Christian Africa in Europe or the course of the Crusades. Suggestive encounters like Nubian pilgrimage to Santiago de Compostela or interactions between the Europeans and Nubians in the Holy Land hint at possible deeper connections, but we are lacking so much information from the African side. Moreover, if we accept the quite plausible analysis of the author on a Nubian diplomatic mission to the papal court in the early 1300s, perhaps in the context of conflict for the throne of Dotawo among pro-Mamluk and anti-Mamluk contenders, we still have the interesting question of how Nubian envoys reached the Latin West. Were people in Medieval Nubia also traveling to the Mediterranean via ancient Saharan routes to the Northwest? Could Nubians have, via their interactions with western Sudanic states and the Maghreb, have endeavored to establish links to the Latin West? 

Furthermore, what was the response of powerful states like Kanem to these developments? Kanem in the late 1200s and for much of the 1300s faced a number of internal problems and succession crises, but could Kanem's alleged expansion to the far east, as far as the Nile, have occurred during the turbulent era of Mamluk-Dotawo relations in the late 1200s and early 1300s? Or was Ahmad b. Furtu exaggerating the past might and influence of the Sayfawa dynasty when he claimed their power was felt as far away as Nubia? One must recall al-Idrisi's mention of Nubian and Kanem spheres of influence in at least part of the vast region between the two kingdoms. Were there any tensions between them that may have also shaped the growing Latin European knowledge of Nubia and interest in alliances? 

Was there any impact of the Eastern Christian apocalyptic prophecies and Islamic hadiths on Ethiopia's threat to Islam that would have shaped the Sayfawa dynasty's presentation of itself as a defender of Islam? Were people from Kanem who had traveled to Egypt or Hafsid Tunis cognizant of burgeoning Frankish interest in Nubia and Abyssinia? The improvement of European cartography in the 1300s and 1400s suggests that European cartographers had informants from Kanem or who had at least traveled there. One must also remember the lodge for pilgrims and students in Cairo, funded by the kings of Kanem and established in the 1200s. Perhaps Kanem travelers and students were able to learn of Nubian-Latin Christian relations and Egyptian fears of the a Nubian-Franksh alliance. Despite our inability to answer any of these questions, Kanem's relations with Nubia is a fascinating one that would possibly connect events in the Chad basin with Dotawo for a more Sudanic-centered perspective on Nubian history. It could also lead to new questions about the Kanem-Tunis connections during the Crusading era and possible interactions with Latin Europe that overlapped with Nubian-Latin Christian relations.

Jesuit Missionary Strategies in Ethiopia

Although we are still only beginning to grapple with the large body of literature on the Jesuits in Ethiopia, Cohen's Missionary Strategies of the Jesuits in Ethiopia (1555-1632) is a good overview on Jesuit strategies of evangelizing. Based on Portuguese, Jesuit, and Ethiopian sources, Cohen succeeds in demonstrating the key areas of religious, political, cultural, and theological contention and proselytization. Unlike other areas of Africa, Asia, or the Americas, the Jesuits perceived Ethiopia to be more "civilized" (like China and Japan) and an area of schismatic Christianity in need of reformation. For these reasons, the Jesuits employed sophisticated techniques of Christological debate, biblical exegesis, translation, theater, architectonics, and top-down evangelization based on the hopes of converting the emperor and nobility. The Catholic Counter-Reformation also influenced the Jesuit mission as a reformed Church sought to standardize rituals, centralize authority, and counter Protestant theological debate. 

Ethiopian Christianity's encounter with Roman Catholicism naturally led to conflict, evolution, and the discovery of shared commonalities. Jesuits, for instance, realized the Ethiopian Church drew from the same sources (the Bible, patristic literature). Both also shared a similar belief in the uses of icons and visual arts and the practice of Eucharist and baptism. Nonetheless, Ethiopian persistence in circumcision, anti-Chalcedonian perspectives, adherence to the Alexandrian See, lack of uniformity in some sacraments, observance of the Sabbath, and frequency of divorce revealed huge differences. The debate between the two Churches appears to have played a major role in fomenting Ethiopian religious literature that sought to clarify and define the tenets of the church. Some of this literature was clearly influenced by earlier Ge'ez translations of Church Fathers, and appears to have influenced subsequent internal theological debate within the Ethiopian Christian tradition. The Jesuit debate with local clergy and monks reminds us of their arguments with Buddhist priests in Japan. 

However, according to Cohen, the Jesuits did not properly prepare themselves for the centrifugal forces in Ethiopian Christianity which opposed them, particularly monastic clergy, members of the nobility, and the political crises and rebellions which forced Susenyos to restore freedom of worship. The near total conquest by Muslims in the 1500s had further fragmented the Church while ongoing Oromo expansion further weakened the authority of the Solomonic emperors. Perhaps seeing the absolutizing tendencies of the Jesuits as something that could strengthen their authority, Za Dengel and Susenyos favored the Jesuits. Unfortunately for the latter, Za Dengel's assassination and the inability of Susenyos to end revolts flight of hermits or monks, and stifle resistance to the prohibitions imposed on the Orthodox faith entailed an end of the mission when the political support from the top disappeared under the next emperor. Anyway, it looks like our next read into this topic will have to be either Caraman, the short work coauthored by Merid Wolde Aregay or the hagiography of Walatta Petros. 

Gult in Solomonic Ethiopia

Donald Crummey's Land and Society in the Christian Kingdom of Ethiopia: From the Thirteenth to the Twentieth Century has been on our reading list for quite some time. Crummey was one of those scholars interested in the larger "Sudanic" context for Christian Ethiopia, one that is often forgotten or neglected due to the religion and perceived isolation of the Ethiopian highland kingdom from other parts of Africa. For our purposes, Crummey's examination of gult is directly linked to the "fiefs" of Kanuri or Borno "feudalism" that appears in the works of Cohen, Palmer, Brenner, and other specialists. Additional parallels can be found with the Darfur Sultanate of the Keira dynasty and the land charters of the Funj. Where the Ethiopian case differs is in the much larger corpus of surviving written material and the role of the Church. 

Moreover, the case of Borno differs in that the mahrams collected and translated by Palmer do not appear to be represent the type of "fief" allocated to courtiers and the nobility from the central administration. In Borno's case, the recipients of "fiefs" received rights in tribute to the land in question, and were expected to reside in the capital while appointing representatives to maintain order and collect the tribute. A part of the collected tribute was also given to the Sayfawa administration (or that of the al-Kanemi dynasty which followed). The surviving mahrams of Borno, however, do not appear to represent cases like these but separate forms of land charters in which the recipient received tax-free land or territories. These were, presumably, usually distinct from the "fiefs" allocated by the mai to dependents and allies in the provinces.

Nonetheless, the Ethiopian institution of gult clearly resembled that of Kanem-Borno with regards to land grants in the rights of tribute from free peasant landholders. In Borno, the peasantry appeared to enjoy usufruct land rights and a certain mobility was in practice so they could migrate to other areas or fiefs if unhappy or overtaxed by the chima kura or his representatives. In Solomonic Ethiopia, free peasants benefited from rest to inherit land through an ambilineal descent system (at least among the Amhara). Both had to pay tribute, usually in kind, to an overlord (or the church in Ethiopia). While the antiquity of gult probably goes back to the Aksumite era of expansion and military colonies, some Borno mahrams purportedly date from the early centuries of Sayfawa conversion to Islam. Due to the obvious differences between Islam and Christianity, Borno mahrams granted to illustrious or pious mallams and settlements like Kalumbardo might represent the equivalent to Ethiopia's many monastic institutions which spread further across the region under the Solomonic dynasty. 

Additional parallels might be found in the role of elite marriages and class formation of a ruling class that enjoyed its higher status through the exploitation of tribute. Members of the Magumi ruling clan, for instance, sometimes received tax-free land grants and rights of exploitation, according to Muhammad Nur al-Kali. They also formed a distinct group that married among themselves and apparently resisted the alifa of Kanem due to his attempts to tax them. They were probably also distinguished by their sponsorship of Islamic scholars and holymen, such as the noble who paid Ali Eisami's father for his services. Unfortunately, their lives are not as well-documented as their Ethiopian counterparts, particularly during the Gondarine era. Crummey's study includes numerous details of the inheritance, sale, and gifting of gult lands and uses the surviving manuscripts, land charters, and edicts to illustrate how the Ethiopian ruling class did dominate a class-based society. Their lives of luxury and leisurely activity like chess, literacy, hunting elephants, consumption of mead, and the use of silks and expensive imported cloth certainly distinguished them from the average Ethiopian peasant or slaves. Their elite marriages connected them to the Solomonic dynasty and powerful provincial elites while patronage of the church demonstrated the close relations between church and state that was a cornerstone of Solomonic power for most of its 7 centuries of existence. 

Lamentably, we still know far too little about the peasantry exploited by gult. With some suggestive evidence that one Solomonic monarch, Za Dengal, actually tried to align himself with the free peasantry against the regional nobility, thereby threatening gult foundations of the empire, Crummey points to class conflict as a major factor in 16th and 17th century Ethiopia. Susenyos's conversion to Catholicism and religious conflict certainly contributed to this turmoil and instability until the early Gondarine period. Later moments of rural banditry, peasant revolts under Haile Selassie, or the formal end of gult under the Derg administration clearly attest to social conflict in the countryside. Modern Ethiopia's conquest of new territories in the late 19th century and land legislation favoring Amharic-speaking settlers over local inhabitants suggest an ethnic dimension that does not manifest itself in the earlier Gondar era. There is also too little information in the extant corpus on gult and the military in Solomonic history. What differences, if any, existed between military holders of gult and the ecclesiastical organizations who possessed gult lands? Did something akin to the influential mallams of Borno who appealed to the peasantry or the charismatic holymen of the Funj sultanate influence peasant resistance or negotiation of gult conditions? How did gender dynamics shape land ownership or rights in other parts of "Sudanic" Africa? Crummey definitely demonstrates how women could assert gult rights and, in some cases, effect policy on a "national" scale under Mentewab.

Nubian Renaissance of the Funj

Although Spaulding's coauthored Kingdoms of Sudan includes much of the analysis found in his earlier dissertation, we felt a need to read the original for more context. Ostensibly a history of the Funj Sultanate's northern Abdallab state or region from 1600-1821, in practice the dissertation is organized in two parts: political history of the Abdallab state or provincial kingdom of the Funj Sultanate and an analysis of Islam and commerce as forces undermining the Sultanate. Spaulding uses oral traditions, the Funj Chronicle, the Tabaqat and various external sources in his endeavor to reconstruct the outline of the Abdallab as well as the Funj. Funj origins and their Sultanate as a "Sudanic" state sharing many commonalities with a string of kingdoms stretching from Senegambia to Sinnar (Sennar) is a persistent theme. The Funj state as a non-tribal, non-Arab, polyethnic Nubian state with continuity from the medieval Christian kingdoms is likewise a consistent theme.

The idea of the Funj as a southern Nubian people pushed from their homeland along the White Nile by the Shilluk seems plausible enough. Linguistic evidence and Shilluk traditions do suggest it is plausible. That the Funj state retained the horned crown of medieval Nubian kingship as well as the practices of matrilineal succession and seizing vassal princes as hostages is also suggestive of continuity with Christian Nubia. The ecology and mixture of subsistence economies were additional factors of continuity from medieval to Funj Nubia. The region's mix of sedentary farmers, camel and cattle pastoralists, hill peoples probably maintained or inherited much of the same lifestyle of their medieval forebears. Indeed, according to Spaulding, the early Funj kingdom from c.1504 was barely or only superficially Islamic. In fact, the commercial factors favoring Islamic conversion were probably paramount for Amara Dunqas choosing Islam. The Beja traders and their network linked to the Red Sea plus Islamic influences from northern Nubia and Egypt made Islam attractive for serving long-distance trade. 

Nonetheless, the Funj were carriers of a more "traditional" or "African" political system based on administered commerce under royal rule. As "divine" kings associated with life, death, and sustenance through a number or rituals, accession rites, and pre-Islamic belief, the sultan was legitimate to the peasantry by looking after their interests and, ideally, defending them from merchants who abused the sheil system of advancing grains or other goods to peasants before harvest time to trap them in debt. Intriguingly, Spaulding proposes that popular Sudanese religion was neither exceptionally Christian (medieval era) nor one of orthodox Islam. Popular belief under the Funj revolved around baraka (more as a life-force), saints (fuqaha believed to possess baraka) and veneration of these saints for the transference of baraka. Noticing parallels with a number of "traditional" African religious systems from Rwanda to Haiti, Spaulding suggests this worldview was gradually undermined by Funj rulers adopting orthodox Islam to appease Muslim merchants. 

This appeasement of merchants and embrace of orthodoxy, in turn, led to a decline in the legitimacy of the kingship and nobility to the peasantry, who saw traditional rites removed from kingship. Kings also sided with the orthodox Islamic merchants, even when the latter exploited their indebted peasants or stockpiled grain during times of famine. The decline of Sinnar and Abdallab rule, especially pronounced after 1762 and the subsequent wars of the Hamaj Regency against other parties, further eroded the government through increasing control of caravans by merchants. While the state declined and fragmented with provincial rulers battling for control or domination of routes and resources, the peasantry aligned with charismatic fuqaha whose virtues and Islamic piety were respected by all. These Islamic holy men defended the exploited peasantry and challenged kings. In response, rulers bestowed land grants upon them and gifts for receiving their prayers and virtues rather than spells or threats.

On the question of the Islamic holy men and the peasantry, Spaulding's analysis is perhaps most interesting. The obvious parallel for us is Borno and mallam-peasant relations. We know, like their counterparts in the Sinnar Sultanate, Borno's Islamic holy men received land grants with tax-free rights. Some of them also criticized the government and spoke on behalf of the peasantry and downtrodden. Moreover, they too included "insider" ulama and clerics who worked with or on behalf of the Sayfawa dynasty. What we would like to know more about is the local Bornoan merchant class during the same era, from c.1500-1820. Were they also ensnaring the peasantry in debt while pressuring the local government to practice more orthodox Islam? Since so many of the Sayfawa mais had performed the hajj and were a Muslim dynasty since the 11th century, the role of Borno or Kanuri merchants in promoting (or not) Islam must have been different than conditions in Sinnar. So, was the basis of the mallam-peasant alliance in Borno due to fief-holders overtaxing cultivators? It would be fascinating to discover more on Kanuri popular religion, especially how it transformed over time to become, in part, a challenge to established authority. Sadly, the only semi-detailed account we know from before the demise of the Sayfawa dynasty occurred in the 1820s among the Manga, but explicitly against Muhammad al-Amin al-Kanemi. Nevertheless, the "feki" associated with that rebellion bore many of the same characteristics as "outsider" fuqaha of the Funj Sultanate.

To conclude, Spauding's work is an indispensable source on the Funj. Beginning with the fragmentation of medieval Nubia and Funj origins until the Turco-Egyptian invasion, this dissertation attempts a promising synthesis of political and social history. It is possible later scholarship has challenged his characterization of medieval Nubian states as "Sudanic." Perhaps he was wrong in his characterization of pre-Christian, pre-Islamic Nubian religion. However, he was correct about continuity as a major element in understanding the flow of Nubia's history. And the Islamization and Arabization of the region was far more complex than what modern Sudanese traditions or external Arabic sources suggest. The Funj emerge as builders of the last great Nubian state, one that promoted the forces that ultimate transformed the Nilotic Sudan whilst simultaneously bearing the flame of an ancient civilization. One cannot help but wonder how things would have developed without the Egyptian invasion in 1821. 

Medieval Nubia

A very enlightening talk on medieval Nubia by Ruffini has been something we are revisiting this week. Although our primary interest is in Kanem-Borno, it has been rewarding to consider larger "Sudanic Africa" and some of the possible connections among the various peoples and historical states or kingdoms in the precolonial era.