Tripoli Between the Two Seas

Jean-Claude Zelter's  Tripoli, carrefour de l'Europe et des pays du Tchad, 1500-1795 is one of those studies of Tripoli that we believed was necessary to understand the North African side of Kanem-Borno's trans-Saharan trade. Due to Zeltner's specialization in the Chadian past and research in Kanem and among the Awlad Sulayman Arabs, we hoped his history of Tripoli would integrate the histories of Tripolitania and the Central Sudan. Unfortunately, a deeper integration of the two remains to be written but this is an interesting start. Indeed, Zeltner fits the history of Tripoli in both a Mediterranean and trans-Saharan context. Indeed, without Europe, the Chad Basin and the bridges of the Mediterranean and Sahara, Tripoli was economically marginal. This indicates how a major North African port relied so heavily on the African interior and Europe and the economic integration of Africa and Europe (and the Levant). 

Outside of corsair activity targeting European ships and enslaving the victims, the trade in slaves and other "goods" acquired the trans-Saharan trade was the main source of revenue for the rulers (beys and pashas) of Tripoli from c.1500-1795. Moreover, as Zeltner takes great pains to indicate, most of the goods traded further south to Borno or sub-Saharan Africa via Tripoli came from Europe, especially Italy and even France. Thus, the trans-Saharan trade of the Central Sudan was directly linked to Mediterranean and European economies. Zeltner seems to have believed that had the Holy Roman Empire under Charles V or another European power had permanently established control of Tripoli and the Barbary coast, European trade with the African interior through the Sahara could have developed fully without the constant attacks of pirates or, in the case of Tripoli, frequent revolutions and unseating of pashas. But that's neither here nor there. Perhaps it is best to see Zeltner's overview of Tripoli's history in an attempt to show how the North African port served a vital role in connecting various regional or really global economies. Future studies could probably, assuming more data is accumulated or discovered, link developments in Tripoli and Fezzan with specific economic and political affairs in the Central Sudan or Borno. 

Unfortunately, there are some problems with Zeltner's approach and the structure of the book. The first 100 pages delve into the larger conflicts between the Ottoman Empire and the Holy Roman Empire in the Mediterranean. It is definitely important for understanding how Tripoli fell under the control of Turgut, but it may be excessive to spend so many pages on the period leading up to 1551. Perhaps it would have been good to cover Wadai in the 17th and 18th centuries, too, for an additional kingdom trading with Tripoli and the Libyan coast. Fuller coverage of what was going on in the Central Sudan during the period, in addition to the reign of Idris b. Ali of Borno, could have been juxtaposed with Tripoli's various conflicts with the English, French and other Europeans in the Mediterranean. That could have better emphasized how events or political, social, and religious changes in the Central Sudan had an impact on Tripoli and the Mediterranean, not just Tripoli's political or social changes influencing the Fezzan and "Sudan" to the south. It was also confusing to see Zeltner equate Kwararafa with the Mandara kingdom, despite evidence linking it to the Jukun peoples.

Nevertheless, Zeltner's book is a good introduction to Tripoli that helps us better understand the Tripoli chronicle previously read for this site. Some of the particularities of Barbary piracy, Ottoman interests in the Mediterranean and even the role of the French in shipping African captives in Tripoli to the Levant were especially interesting. The frequent coups and revolutions and the way in which Tripoli, for a time, benefitted from French and English rivalry in the Mediterranean was likewise intriguing and perhaps brings to mind the ways in which banditry in the Sahara and Sahel had its counterpart on sea with the corsairs and rivalry between Sudanic states or kingdoms. Banditry and business go hand in hand, despite the former occasionally hurting the latter. 

Autobiography of Nicholas Said

Said, via Wikipedia

Nicholas Said's relatively short autobiography is one of the most interesting textual sources produced by a native of Borno. The author of this slave narrative was kidnapped by Tuaregs and sold into slavery in North Africa. From Tripoli, Said accompanied a Turkish master who ran a tobacco shop, on the pilgrimage to Mecca. Along the way, Said traveled to Egypt, Sudan, Ethiopia, today's Saudi Arabia, Somalia, and Muscat. One almost wishes he told us more about the Ethiopian traders he met in Khartoum, or about the African pilgrims en route to Mecca in Sudan and Ethiopia. Alas, that was not his focus, but it would have been interesting if he met others from Borno in Sudan and Ethiopia. After his master's shop is burned down (with half of Tripoli's Turkish bazaar), our protagonist is sent to Izmir, where he is sold to a politically connected Turk who then takes him to Constantinople. After brushing shoulders with the cosmopolitan elites of Constantinople, he is acquired by a Russian diplomat and aristocrat who takes him to the Russian Empire. 

Via travels with a Russian employer, he traverses Europe, experiencing all the aesthetic, technological, and cultural advances of mid-19th century West. Eventually, when in London and planning a return to Borno, a Dutch client offers him employment for an extended trip to North America and the Caribbean. Visiting US cities, the Bahamas, Haiti, and Jamaica, Said and his employer return to the US and Canada, where Said is abandoned after loaning his boss funds. Stranded in Canada, he is encouraged to go to Buffalo, New York, where there are more "colored" people. Thus began Said's experiences in the US on a permanent basis. Perhaps due to the delicate post-Civil War conditions in the US South, Said does not disclose his service in the Union Army. One is also struck by the number of elite or royal people Said claims to have met or served, including receiving a gift from the Czar Nicholas I. One almost senses in this a Kanuri cultural practice of dependents seeking wealthy or powerful men as patrons, and perhaps Said's namedropping was a reflection of that. Or perhaps it served as a counter to US racism, as a "black" man, though in a servile position, was valued and respected by cosmopolitan European elites and experienced little to no racial prejudice. One can sense some tensions, perhaps tied to his race, with European domestics in Russia, and we can be sure there was a lot more that happened to Said in Europe or Turkey than he's willing to admit. Alternatively, Said may have looked to the famous "Negro" of Peter the Great as a model for refashioning his life in the Russian Empire.

So, what does Nicholas Said's biography tell us about Borno and the experience of Borno's peoples in the modern world? First, Said himself represents Borno as a political project encompassing a variety of ethnic groups, including the Kanuri, Shuwa, Kanembu, and, in the case of Said, "Mandra" (Mandara) and Molgoy. Molgoy were a people whose ruling chief accepted a tributary relationship with Borno under Mai Barnoma. Said's mother, Dalla, was the daughter of a Mandra chief. Yet despite these non-Kanuri origins, Said seems to identify wholeheartedly with Borno and refers to the Borno or Kanuri language as his vernacular. Perhaps this a reflection of his father's military service under Shehu al-Kanemi, which meant Said grew up in Kukawa, the capital, and socialized with a son of Shehu Omar. Either way, this is an interesting example of how multiethnic the empire of Borno was, and to what extent people from "pagan" tributary or vassal states in the region could ascend the ranks of the military and social status. 

After all, Mohammad Ali ben Said was the son of Barca Gana, a famous general who defended Borno against the Fulani, Bagirmi, Wadai, and other enemies or raiders. Indeed, it was presumably through his father's prominence and connections with al-Kanemi and his successor that Said was sent for schooling to Malam Katory, a reputed scholar described as being well-versed in Arabic, Persian, and Turkish. Presumably having such a respectable teacher in Arabic was expected for people of elite origins in Borno. Moreover, it was open to people who were not of Kanuri, Kanembu, or Shuwa origins, though Said clearly thought the Kanuri were the ruling class or caste and not above oppressing Shuwa, Kanembu, or other groups.

After establishing how internally diverse and dynamic Borno society was in the 19th century, it's important to consider Said as a native of Borno in the volatile 19th century world, experiencing steamships, railroads, European architecture and science. There is a long-running, underlying current of racial uplift in Said's autobiography, perhaps acquired from his experience in the US with African-Americans and whites. In his own manner, he attacks the argument of African inferiority, while implicitly casting Africans as primitive and the "race" as one in need of elevation through education and uplift. This is the basis for sensing some ambivalence in Said's experience of 'modernity' and tradition, one in which he can praise aspects of Borno and the Ottoman Turks while cursing African Islam as retrograde. Indeed, in Said's retelling of Borno's past and the history of African achievements in technology and handicrafts, he seems to think the palace ruins at Gambaru and Ngazargamu were the achievements of pre-Islamic Borno. Consequently, one can sense an ambivalence in Said's autobiography in terms of religion and race in a changing world. Thus, he can praise the example of the Haitian Revolution as an achievement for our race while wishing Haiti remained colony.

Experiencing the trans-Saharan slave trade first-hand, and 2 distinct but connected routes that carried him from Tripoli to Mecca and back), it is fascinating to see how someone who was reared Muslim and received an Islamic education for at least 2 years struggled with Islam. After baptism in Riga, at the pressure of his Russian aristocratic employer, Said appears to have gradually adopted more severe and dismissive attitudes to Islam. The religion of his homeland, indeed, is blamed for bringing destruction, fanaticism, and slave raiding. Since his audience for the autobiography consisted of Christian Americans in the 19h century, perhaps one can see Said embellishing or exaggerating his religious sentiments or identity. Yet he could have been sincere in those beliefs, and struggled to make sense of the "contest" between Christianity and Islam, the former better for Africa (and the "race"). In this light, it is interesting to compare Said with Edward Blyden. Unlike Blyden, who was not a product of an Islamic West African society, Said presented himself as a Christian who rejects Islam's influence in the continent. Blyden, on the other hand, saw Islam as preparing Africa for eventual Christianization, and in the meantime, promoting education and moderation for moral uplift. Like Said, Blyden did not truck with "fetishism" but both claimed to be for the race. Both also saw in the "mulatto" an implacable obstacle to countries like Haiti. How is it that two men with extensive traveling and education, both in favor of improving the "race," develop ambivalent attitudes toward Africa in the modern world while stressing the benefits of opposing religions? And what does this suggest for the role of Borno in the larger theme of Islam and modern Africa?