Askia Muhammad, Borno, and Dallol Maouri

Although evidence for it is likely not strong, traditions included in Landeroin's "Notice historique" in the Documents scientifiques de la Mission Tilho, 1906-1909 include a tale of Askia Muhammad of Songhay passing through Borno on the return from the hajj. Well, according to the Tarikh al-Sudan, Askia Muhammad went to Mecca in 1496, returning to Gao in 1498. Oral tradition in Dendi, however, has Askia Muhammad going on the pilgrimage at age 15. But the youthful Askia Muhammad of Dendi tradition was apparently able to kill his uncle, the Si (Tchi in Landeroin's spelling) and undertake the pilgrimage as an atonement of sorts. In the words of Landeroin, "Au cours de son voyage de retour, Maammarou aurait traversé le Bornou, dont le sultan Dounama lui aurait rendu hommage, puis passant par Shifaoua (région de Sokoto) où un chef peul lui aurait fait présent de mille bœufs, il serait enfin rentré dans son pays par Bounza, Finguila, Tounouga, Sanafina, Koulou, Kirtachi et Saÿ." 

The legend seems to associate the return of Askia Muhammad, or Maammarou with the placement of different peoples on the way to Gao. Of course, there is also no evidence for Askia Muhammad being a teenager when he undertook the pilgrimage. But is there any chance of contact between Borno and the Askia? The mai he allegedly met, Dounama, would have been Ali b. Dunama (r. 1465-1497), if the recorded dates for the Askia's pilgrimage are correct in the chronicles. Since there is evidence of Ali b. Dunama also going on the hajj and meeting al-Suyuti, it would be intriguing if the two monarchs did meet at some point. But one must wonder if the Askia would have returned via Borno, particularly if Muslims from the Western Sudan were using trans-Saharan routes to reach North Africa and Egypt. 

But, Landeroin found lingering traditions of the Sayfawa visiting the area of the Maouris, too. Their chiefs supposedly had body scars similar to those of the Manga and Mobbers of Borno. Moreover, they claim descent from a Sayfawa prince named Ari. Said to be the son of a Sayfawa mai named Kaloumbou, who ruled contemporanously with Askia Muhammad I of Gao, one is tempted to think of either Ali b. Dunama or Ali b. Idris (r. 1538-1539). But when Landeroin calculated the number of generations based on the genealogies collected from the Maouri, he believed that their origin dated back to the 17th century. If so, is it possible that the name Kaloumbou might actually be connected to Kaloumbardo, a Sufi center in Borno whose members dispersed after its destruction in 1677?

Either way, it is very difficult to take at face-value the attempt to link Askia Muhammad with Borno. But there does seem to have been some movement into the Maouri region of people with roots in Borno. Later on, those claims were perhaps refined and a fictitious link to the Sayfawa became part of the narrative. Whether or not the famous Kalumbardo had any connection to the Arewa of Dallol Maouri is still speculative at this stage. 

The Early History of Gao and the Songhay: Trade, Power, and Islam along the Niger (AI)

What follows below is an attempt to use AI to write a short essay on a topic based on our notes. The notes in question were written based on several academic publications we read a few years ago. Sadly, the free version of ChatGPT was unable to reproduce proper citations before we used up the free access to the best version. Nonetheless, we thought it would be worthwhile to show what it is capable of doing with information we fed to it. After some time, we will ask it to revise this again using whatever additional sources it can access. A link to our notes that are the basis of this can be found here. 

The early history of the Songhay and the rise of Gao (known to medieval Arabic writers as Kawkaw) illustrate the development of one of West Africa’s earliest powerful political centers. Located along the Niger River at the point where Saharan caravan routes met fertile riverine settlements, Gao emerged as a dominant regional hub before and during the early second millennium CE. Arabic geographers, although writing from afar and often relying on merchant testimony, consistently presented Gao as a sovereign kingdom that exercised influence over multiple subject peoples. Archaeological evidence, particularly from Gao-Saney, reinforces this image by revealing craft specialization, foreign imports, and signs of urban stratification. Yet the limited availability of contemporary written sources means historians must critically combine archaeology, oral tradition, and later West African chronicles to reconstruct this period. Through this synthesis, a picture emerges of a culturally dynamic society grounded in indigenous traditions but strengthened by the adoption of Islam and long-distance trade.

Well before the rise of Gao as a trans-Saharan commercial center, the Niger Bend supported communities that relied on the river’s abundant resources. The Sorko, known as expert fishers and boatbuilders, and the Gow, skilled hunters of hippopotamus and other dangerous river animals, formed some of the earliest identifiable groups associated with Songhay. Their craft specialization facilitated trade along the river and created patterns of settlement that anchored early political formation. Matrilineal descent was a defining feature of these river societies. Authority passed not solely from father to son but through the mother’s lineage, which ensured that elite women played essential roles in validating leadership transitions. Religious life centered on spirits connected to water, the riverbed, and animal life. Kingship was sacred, and rulers derived legitimacy from their roles as intermediaries with supernatural forces. Such cultural foundations did not disappear with the arrival of Islam; instead, these Sudanic social structures shaped the ways Islam was received and practiced.

Songhay historical memory, preserved in later chronicles, places the earliest ruling seat at Kukiya, downriver from Gao. The Zuwa (or Za) dynasty, said to descend from a foreign ancestor or hero figure, represents the first political lineage acknowledged by tradition. Oral narratives speak of battles between these early kings and powerful river spirits, sometimes depicted as fish demons, symbolizing struggles over control of ritual authority and sacred space within the community. Archaeological discoveries in the Bentyia–Kukiya region, including early Muslim burials, suggest that the site was not isolated nor purely mythical. Instead, Kukiya appears to have been a substantial multiethnic settlement that was already interacting with Islamic traders by at least the 11th to 12th centuries. Over time, as trade networks intensified and Gao’s geographic advantages became more important, political power shifted northward, indicating a gradual process of state consolidation rather than abrupt replacement.

By the 8th–9th centuries CE, Gao emerged clearly in Arabic writings as a capital city and political force. The geographer al-Yaqubi noted that the king of Kawkaw ruled a number of subject peoples, including desert-dwelling Sanhaja nomads. This claim aligns with archaeological findings showing that Gao was integrated into long-distance economic systems. Gao’s prosperity stemmed strongly from trans-Saharan trade. Caravans from Tadmekka, Kawar, and the Fezzan arrived with salt — a critical commodity that held both economic and political value. In return, Songhay merchants and rulers exported copper, ivory, animal products, and enslaved captives. These exchanges linked Gao to the wider Islamic world stretching from North Africa to the Mediterranean and the Middle East. Excavations at Gao-Saney have revealed copper-working furnaces, imported pottery and glass beads, and architectural features suggesting elite compounds. Such evidence confirms that Gao was not merely a waystation but a thriving production and consumption center. The kingdom’s ability to control trade routes and levy taxes or tribute helped consolidate political authority and population growth.

Islam did not arrive in Gao through conquest but through commerce and diplomacy. By the 10th–11th centuries, rulers known by the title Qanda (or Kanda) had converted to Islam, according to al-Bakri. Their subjects, however, largely maintained traditional beliefs and cult practices. Gao thus existed at this time as a dual-religious polity, with two towns: one Islamic and one that upheld indigenous spirituality. This structure demonstrates a transitional phase when kings embraced Islam’s advantages for diplomacy and legitimacy while still depending on traditional bases of ritual power among their people. Notably, Islamization appears to have been elite-driven. Conversion supported alliances with North African Muslims and facilitated smooth trade relations. But kings continued to rely on matrilineal structures to ensure dynastic stability, which reflects the persistence of indigenous frameworks for rule.

A political transformation became visible in the late 11th and early 12th centuries. The names of rulers that appear in Arabic texts vanish, and new rulers known as the Zaghe/Za emerge prominently in the archaeological record. Royal tombstones found at Gao-Saney are inscribed with Arabic prayers and titles such as malik (king) and malika (queen). Some of these funerary stelae were carved from marble imported from Almeria in Islamic Spain, revealing direct commercial and cultural connections with the wider Muslim world. This new leadership reinforced Islam at the highest levels of authority while retaining Songhay’s matrilineal basis of succession. The prominent burial of queens indicates that elite women were not diminished by Islam but remained central to the legitimacy of rulers. These developments mark Gao’s first clearly documented period of Islamic monarchy, accompanied by a flourishing of intellectual and cultural engagement beyond the Sahara.

Gao’s influence extended beyond commerce. Medieval accounts record that its rulers engaged in conflicts with the Ghana Empire to the west and Kanem to the east. These wars were not merely territorial but economic, driven by competition for control of trade corridors, especially those linking goldfields, salt mines, and northern markets. Warfare and diplomacy were tools to secure and manage tribute from both riverine and desert communities. Gao’s growing military power suggests a centralized administrative apparatus capable of organizing cavalry and riverine forces. That capacity would later form the basis of Songhay’s imperial strength under Sunni Ali.

Islam in Gao did not override existing beliefs. Instead, the two systems merged into a culturally hybrid form of statecraft. Rulers valued Islamic law, Arabic literacy, and international alliances, while also maintaining sacred ceremonial roles rooted in Sudanic cosmology. Spirit possession, public ritual, and matrilineal inheritance endured. This dual legitimacy — Islamic and indigenous — made Gao’s political structure both flexible and resilient. Rather than abolishing entrenched social customs, Islam was used to reinforce monarchy and expand bureaucratic functions, especially in commerce, taxation, and diplomatic communication.

Reconstructing early Songhay history requires attention to the nature of the available sources. Arabic geographers provide some of the earliest written references to Gao, but their works contain gaps and uncertainties because they relied heavily on second-hand information. Archaeology offers concrete material evidence of urban development and Islamic influence but remains limited to sites that have been excavated, especially around Gao-Saney. Oral traditions preserve indigenous perspectives and cultural meanings but contain mythic elements and were shaped by later political contexts. The Tarikh al-Sudan and Tarikh al-Fattash, written centuries later, reflect Songhay’s imperial ideology rather than early history. Despite these limitations, the convergence of evidence strongly indicates that Gao was a powerful and Islamizing state by the 11th century, rooted in earlier indigenous cultural institutions. Continual comparison of sources allows historians to create a clearer, though still evolving, understanding of this crucial period.

By the beginning of the 12th century, Gao had emerged as a thriving urban center with solid economic, military, and religious foundations. Its rulers commanded long-distance trade networks, projected force against rival states, and served as guardians of both Islamic and indigenous authority. These achievements ensured that Gao remained influential even when incorporated into the Mali Empire in the 13th and 14th centuries. When the Sunni dynasty restored independence in the 15th century and expanded to create the Songhay Empire, they built upon centuries of state formation and a tradition of political innovation rooted in the early history of Gao. The foundations of one of West Africa’s greatest empires began not with sudden transformation, but through gradual evolution driven by commerce, culture, and hybrid spirituality.

Contribution to the History of Songhay

Jean Rouch's Contribution à l'histoire des Songhay is rather outdated yet still useful for insights on Songhay history and culture. A reputable ethnographer who studied Songhay religion and magic extensively, Rouch's understanding of their history unsurprisingly emphasizes Islam as an alien element that laid the foundations for the collapse of the Askia. Despite this problematic frame for Songhay history, Rouch's work is one of the best earlier attempts to make sense of Songhay history from its shadowy early origins at Kukiya to the late colonial period. 

Unfortunately, Rouch repeated some of the mistakes of Delafosse and early colonial scholars. For instance, the Za dynasty were said to have been Christianized Lemta Berbers who left Tripolitania around 670. In addition, the early state of Ghana (Wagadu) is attributed to Judaeo-Syrian colonists. These mistakes inhibit a deeper understanding of early Songhay, one which clearly indicates an important role for the Sorko, Gow, and farming populations living near and along the Niger as the foundation of the first Songhay polity. This later inhibits Rouch's analysis of the Za, Si, and Askia dynasties since Islam, promoted by Askia Muhammad, is blamed for the fall of Songhay. Sonni Ali, on the other hand, was the champion of a "black" state that brought Songhay to its zenith, something commemorated in Songhay oral traditions, religion, and Rouch's problematic view of Islam's relations with Songhay religion. 

Of course, later scholars have benefitted from new approaches to the Timbuktu chronicles, epigraphic evidence from Bentia & Gao, as well as archaeological excavations at Gao and other sites in Mali to throw into question a number of theories held as gospel in Rouch's day. The picture that emerges now is one far more dynamic and one that calls into question some of the older generation's stereotypes of Kukiya as the fount of "black" Songhay paganism and even the historicity of Ali Kulun. Nonetheless, Rouch's insights are occasionally insightful here, particularly his proposed translations for Za dynasty rulers recorded in the Timbuktu chronicles. His familiarity with Songhay oral tradition and religion also adds a new dimension to the ways in which Sonni Ali and other rulers are remembered for building their empires through military conquests aided by magic or occult knowledge. 

Development and Regression on the Middle Niger

Le développement et la régression chez les peuples de la boucle du Niger à l'époque précolonial by Michael Tymowski is an ambitious work. An attempt to make sense of around 1000 years of economic progress and regression along a key part of the Western Sudan (centered on the Middle Niger), Tymowski relies heavily on the Timbuktu chronicles, external Arabic sources, and oral traditions. He persuasively makes the case for economic development with the growth of urban centers, limited private land tenure, and accelerated long-distance trade, which later declined in the 1600s and 1700s. This shows that the history of "development" in sub-Saharan African areas has always been dynamic, and not simply one of timeless "backwardness" or irrelevance. 

However, Tymowski's study is quite outdated and relies on French translations of sources in Arabic. It also relies heavily on Jean Rouch and other somewhat outdated scholarship on Songhay ethnography and oral traditions, even repeating the unproven claim that the Dia/Za dynasty of early Songhay rulers were actually Lemta Berbers. In addition, he heavily relied on the problematic Tarikh al-Fattash chronicle for assertions about servile/caste populations. This dependence on French translations of Arabic sources and outmoded scholarship on Songhay ethnography and oral traditions suggest possible limitations of Tymowski's study. While one must acknowledge that the aforementioned Timbuktu chronicles are probably reliable for the 1400s and 1500s (at least more so than for earlier centuries), Tymowski's attempt to derive meaningful conclusions or theories about the economic development of the Mali Empire and Songhay Empire may be misleading or problematic. Nonetheless, there are a number of intriguing ideas about the relationship between the towns (Gao, Djenne, Timbuktu) and the countryside, as well as the role of the state in promoting land tenure arrangements along the lines of property property or through state domains (those of the askias) that controlled and promoted the redistribution of goods. 

Racial Tropes in the Moroccan Conquest of Songhay

Although mainly based on one source produced as part of a royal proclamation after the defeat of the Songhay, Mauro Nobili and Saïd Bousbina demonstrate the reduction of Songhay into the trope of the enslaveable black. This attitude, by the way, reminds us of al-Fishtali's similarly condescending references to the envoy of Borno who was received in Morocco during the the reign of Idris b. Ali. Race, and the blackness of the Songhay trumped their Islamic and ethnic identities. 

Cissoko, Timbuktu, and the Songhay Empire

Sékéné Mody Cissoko's Tombouctou et l'empire Songhay is a fascinating yet problematic work. Originally published in the 1970s, and by an author who accepted the theories of Cheikh Anta Diop and believed in the need of connecting postcolonial African nation-states to their precolonial past, the Songhay Empire is presented as the apogee of Western Sudanese civilization. We are led to believe or accept a number of premises, including that the Songhay state was a modernizing one and that the pyramidal character of buildings and mosque construction in the region may be a reflection of connections with Ancient Egypt. Cissoko also asserts that the level of learning at Timbuktu was comparable to a university, despite his acknowledgement that the city lacked the madrasas characteristic of Egypt or the Maghreb and the decentralized nature of instruction which emphasized Islamic religious education or law. In addition, Timbuktu, as the intellectual and economic capital of the vast Sudanese empire, characterized the Islamic influence that was largely marginal or absent in the South and east of the Empire. Indeed, Cissoko's work reflects this dichotomous view of Songhay civilization as one torn between the "high" Islamic culture and literacy of the towns and western provinces versus the found of traditional beliefs and religions in areas like Dendi. In fact, Sonni Ali's infamous relations with the ulama of Timbuktu is presented as an example of anticlericalism while the Sonni were and are associated with magic or sorcery in the "traditional" Songhay culture. 

Despite it's flaws, perhaps Cissoko's synthesis is worthwhile as a testament to the methodology and value postcolonial African historians practiced with regard to the Western Sudan. Cissoko clearly sought to balance the usual written sources with oral traditions and ethnographic work based on his own work and that of scholars like Jean Rouch and Boubou Hama. While it was not especially successful in Cissoko's case, and perhaps he overstates the "clash" between "animist" traditional religion and Islam, Cissoko's study raises a number of relevant historical questions and contemporary dilemmas. For instance, is it true that the Songhay Empire, at its zenith under the Askias, created a modern state in which the rulership was independent and dissociated from the individual with a greater degree of political centralization? The evidence utilized by our author, mainly restricted to the Tarikhs, al-Maghili's responses to Askia Muhammad and Leo Africanus, do not suffice to adequately answer this question. Furthermore, if the masses of the population of Songhay were slaves, why was it not a slave society? Surely the lack of sufficient documentation makes the demographic analysis of Cissoko questionable, particularly in his high estimates for Timbuktu's population. 

Furthermore, one could ask if it is a fair portrayal of the bourgeoisie marchande in Cissoko's analysis? Was it true that they did not invest their profits locally into things like land, new enterprises, or industries that could have revolutionized the economy? If 16th century Songhay truly enjoyed such a prolonged period of commercial success and growth, is it fair to make Cissoko's generalization given our paucity of sources? One can see how Cissoko thought addressing that question would be rather relevant to 20th century postcolonial Malian or African readers of his work. As their postcolonial states sought economic growth or development with different models, perhaps Cissoko's critique of the alleged wastefulness of the Askias and Songhay elites had more to do with the modern political and economic elites in Mali. That said, Cissoko's study does offer a (dated) comprehensive overview of the Songhay Empire that raises a number of interesting questions. We shall endeavor to explore some of those questions with Michał Tymowski.

Timbuktu's Patriciate

Elias Saad's Social History of Timbuktu: The Role of Muslim Scholars and Notables, 1400–1900 is an important study of the social tradition of the scholar-notable as a Timbuktu patriciate for about 500 years of urban history. This social tradition of scholar-notables helped define a recurring theme of autonomism in Timbuktu as scholars, through the judgeship and imamates, effectively administered the city through the long series of conquerors and states or empires that absorbed it. This rather unique position of Timbuktu and its renown as a center of Islamic learning makes it an interesting case study for understanding the Islamic city and its relationship with the Saharo-Sahelian and Sudanic contexts in which Timbuktu was intimately linked. 

Indeed, early Timbuktu, from the earliest chains of transmission still extant, was heavily indebted to southern Soninke and Malinke locations for its early Islamic scholars. Timbuktu's position as a site of prominence for Islamic scholarship in the Saharan, Sahelian and Sudanic regions was also based on the wealthiest families of different ethnic origins found the city to be a site where the pursuit of the acquisition of Islamic learning (especially jurisprudential learning) served an integrative function. This allowed Sanhaja, Arab, Soninke, Malinke, Songhai, Fulani, and others to come together in Timbuktu's early origins as a trading center. While not the only city in the Western Sudan to have an origin in a multiethnic trading center, in Timbuktu the goal of wealthy families, tailors, some craftsmen, and others to acquire literacy and gain the reputation of learned status, plus the ability of the wealthier families to produce renowned scholars, established Timbuktu as the city par excellence with scholar-notables as a patriciate. 

Saad seems to think the 'patriciate' of Timbuktu was defined by Islamic scholarship and the development of a social tradition that favored Timbuktu's autonomy throughout most of the period from c.1400-1900. While the Mali, Mossi, Magsharen Tuareg, Songhai, Ruma (Moroccan invasion force that integrated into society rather quickly), Kel Tadmekkat Tuareg, Kunta, and jihadist Hamdullahi states all claimed suzerainty over Timbuktu at various times in this 500 year period, the scholar-notables always dominated the city (at least in religio-legal spheres) and through the judgeship and the imamates of the main mosques actually administered the town. This appears to have been the case under Malian, Songhai and Ruma rule, attesting the longevity of this social tradition. One could conquer Timbuktu, but in the end the conquerors or invaders were integrated or accepted in some form or another this arrangement. One is not sure if any other city in the Western Sudan could be said to have encompassed a similar social history of a patriciate based on the scholars.

Al-Maghili and Askia Muhammad

John Hunwick's translation and commentary on al-Maghili's replies to 7 questions from Askia Muhammad is a difficult source for non-specialists. To truly understand al-Maghili's responses and the complex Islamic intellectual tradition he drew upon, one must have some basic familiarity with Islamic civilization, jurisprudence, and political ideology. Hunwick's introductory sections and commentary tremendously help readers make sense of this context. However, the main benefit of reading Shari'a in Songhay : the replies of al-Maghili to the questions of Askia al-Hajj Muhammad is in the glimpses of Songhay social, economic, and political life it provides. For instance, we learn of the practice of nude virgin women traveling through the streets of Jenne or the practitioners of a fox cult who appear to have been Dogon. Or the Masufa presence among Fulani marauders who were a source of concern for Askia Muhammad. These examples highlight the degree to which demographic changes, insecurity, and local cultural practices were in a state of flux across the Middle Niger. They also attest to the partly Islamized nature of the Western Sudan and its vast heterogeneity in cultural and religious identities. Since the date of al-Maghili's replies was in the early part of Askia Muhammad's reign, one must also keep in mind that conditions during his later years or those of his successors likely differed in key ways. For example, Askia Muhammad's expansion of the empire and the degree to which subsequent askias balanced secular government with Islamic precepts or the guidance of the scholars shows political dynamism and possible sources of internal societal conflict. We only wish al-Maghili and Askia Muhammad's secretary had revealed a little more about so-called "traditional" religions, practices of rituals by local Muslims, or the actual experiences of the peasantry and enslaved population.