The Golden Age of the Garamantes

This week's episode from the History of Africa Podcast is a fascinating one on the Golden Age of the Garamantes. And yes, it would be "cool" if the language of the Garamantes was a Nilo-Saharan one written with proto-tifinagh. The theory of a Garamantes connection with populations in the Tibetsi, Kawar, and later Kanem is certainly an intriguing one, as is the worship of Amun by the Garamantes possibly finding an echo in later customs of the Zaghawa and Kanem states.

Awlad Muhammad Dynasty and Borno?

Habiba Wada's El-Hesnawi's thesis, Fazzan Under the Rule of the Awlad Muhammad: A Study in Political, Economic and Intellectual History is a must for anyone interested in the history of the Fazzan region of Libya. Although focused on the Awlad Muhammad dynasty which dominated the important area of the Central Sahara from c.1500 to 1813, the El-Hesnawi draws on the earlier history of the Fazzan and its importance in trans-Saharan trade. Indeed, the Fazzan is distinct for being one of the earliest regions important in trans-Saharan trade since Antiquity. And the Awlad Muhammad dynasty itself is a testament to the Fazzan's central role as a crossroads of Egypt, the Maghrib and the Sudan. For any deeper understanding of Kanem-Borno in its Saharan and Sudanic context, one must include the Fazzan in the analysis. Based on oral traditions and some of the surviving documents from the Fazzan, Tripoli, Ottoman, and European archives, a glimpse at the Awlad Muhammad becomes feasible.

Most of the thesis focuses on the Awlad Muhammad dynasty's Fazzani context. It's origins began with Muhammad al-Fasi, a sharif who chose to settle in the Fazzan after returning from Mecca. Said to have come from the Maghrib or western Sahara, El-Hesnawi's thesis emphasizes the importance of the Fazzan as a region of settlement and stop on the pilgrimage route for those coming from the West. Murabitun and those of sharif origin were especially welcome for their piety and Islamic scholarship. Muhammad al-Fasi appears to have used that to build a power-base and eventually establish a ruling dynasty that persisted until the 19th century. In some respects, the rise of the Awlad Muhammad mirrors that of the "Istambulawa" of Air in the 1400s. Like the early sultans of Agades, Muhammad al-Fasi was a mediator between conflicting groups in the Fazzan. 

Through their ability to arbitrate and neutralize opposition (or most of it, save the Khurman), the Awlad Muhamamd established a relatively stable dynasty that united most of the Fazzan. According to El-Hesnawi, patronage of the murabitun and those of sharifian origin helped tremendously with buttressing the new order. In addition, certain Arab and regional chiefs were given tax-free status and incorporated into the regime. Like the Sayfawa of Kanem-Borno, land grants and tax-free exemptions were awarded to several murabitun who then served in the administration. The Awlad Muhammad later relied heavily on slave officials, heavy taxation on the commoners, duties on trade, and the region's geography to thrive economically. Indeed, El-Hesnawi cites evidence of past wealth in what are today ruined villages or destitute areas of the Fazzan. Agriculture, however, once thrived in the oases and the Fazzan even exported some crops to other regions like Tripoli. 

In short, the Awlad Muhammad built a stable regime on the foundations of trade, support for the pilgrimage, taxation (often onerous, but perhaps mainly due to unscrupulous officials), and heavy patronage for Islamic scholars. The administration inherited terms of Kanuri origin, but El-Hesnawi suggests the meaning of the terms in practice often differed. In fact, the author suggests the period of direct Kanem rule of the Fazzan was rather brief. Due to political instability among the Sayfawa and then the wars with the Bulala, it is likely that the Banu Nasir dynasty appointed by Kanem became independent very quickly. This dynasty, which perhaps was the origin of the Kanuri titles used by subsequent Fazzani rulers, was proceeded by the Khurmans and a period of political chaos or conflict. 

As for the Fazzan's relations with Borno and the Sayfawa, El-Hesnawi's thesis argues against some of our assumptions. For instance, due to the constant conflicts between the pashas of Tripoli and the Awlad Muhammad, it is possible that the dynasty was not politically aligned with the Sayfawa. The interest of the Sayfawa dynasts in direct ties with Tripoli support this contention. In fact, when an Awlad Muhammad ruler did indeed flee to Borno due to an invasion from Tripoli, he was executed. Ibn Ghalbun and other sources claim Umar b. Idris did this because the Fazzani sultan had blinded his nephews, but Borno's close ties with the rulers of Tripoli would have also been a factor. Indeed, this helps explain why so many Awlad Muhammad rulers fled to Katsina or Agades in the 1500s and 1600s rather than Borno. The Sayfawa, eager to maintain close ties with Tripoli as the northern terminus of trans-Saharan trade (and the origin of European and Mediterranean goods), might have been more often than not on the side of the pashas in Fazzan-Tripoli conflicts. 

Moreover, the Awlad Muhammad rulers, being so close to Kawar, might have preferred Katsina and Agades as sources of refuge and political support due to fears of a Sayfawa expansion. For instance, other scholars suggest part of the reason Idris b. Ali (Idris Alooma) sent an envoy to the Ottoman capital was due to their own territorial interests in the Fazzan. El-Hesnawi, on the other hand, said the mission was partly motivated by the Ottoman official briefly in charge of the Fazzan invading as far as Kawar or Lake Chad. In our opinion, the Awlad Muhammad probably were eager to maintain some distance from Gazargamo to preserve their own autonomy. However, the necessities of trade and the short route between Tripoli and Lake Chad through the Fazzan meant trade, contact, and migration were probably constant. The Awlad Muhammad, as El-Hesnawi indicates, were additionally friendly to all pilgrims passing through their domain. The numerous Sayfawa mais who performed the hajj often passed through the Fazzan, which would have created close ties already strongly based on trade, Islam, and cultural exchanges.

Last but certainly not least, El-Hesnawi cites one tradition suggesting a large-scale movement of people from Kanem into the Fazzan during the 1200s.  This could be true, as the Diwan indicates that mai Arku established colonies of slaves in Kawar during the 11th century. It is not inconceivable that the Sayfawa rulers in the 1200s were not pursuing similar colonization policies. Indeed, this might explain part of the strong Kanuri and Sudanic influence in the Fazzan noted in European sources. After all, the Awlad Muhammad princes and rulers were sometimes noted to be brown and "black" and Kanuri and Hausa were widely spoken in Murzuq and other parts of the area. This cannot be solely due to the large-scale slave trade that persisted for several centuries. The importance of "black" qadis, settlers, traders, pilgrims, and princes passing through or living in the Fazzan must have contributed to the "Sudanic" character noted by European or Ottoman travelers. After all, even the capital of Murzuq used Kanuri words to designate parts of the city and the people sang songs in the "Sudanic" style rather than that of the Maghrib. The Fazzan of the Awlad Muhammad was, like that of previous Fazzan polities, profoundly shaped by the Central Sudan and a testament to the Sahara as a bridge rather than barrier. If only we could trace this earlier in the period of the Garamantes and uncover more sources on Fazzan's links with Lake Chad.

Dar al-Kuti and the Outer Periphery

Cordell's history of the Dar al-Kuti Sultanate endeavors to explain the brief state's rise and fall in the context of greater integration of North Central Africa into the wider global, capitalist system of exchange. Beginning from c.1750 and ending with the French assassination of al-Sanussi, Cordell's study situates Dar al-Kuti's rise with an increase in the scale of trans-Saharan trade impacting the area where the Lake Chad, Nile, and Zaire basins intersect, specifically the Ubangi-Shari region. Although pre-1750 contacts certainly existed in some form, and evidence for a Barma or Bagirmi influence can be found in the early Muslim presence in what later became Dar al-Kuti, the Islamic presence and scale of slave raiding grew exponentially over the course of the 19th century. By the early 20th century, the slave trade was so central to the Sultanate that al-Sanussi had no other alternative in order to acquire the firearms, ammunitions and luxury imports to support his state and dependents. 

The expansion of slave raiding and trading for northern partners and the trans-Saharan routes led to unprecedented migrations, relocations, and, gradually, a larger Muslim presence as traders, settlers, and converts participated in this new, centralized state. According to Cordell, the origins of Dar al-Kuti began with a Runga (or someone of Bagirmi and Runga origins) appointed to oversee the region on behalf of the rulers of Dar Runga, itself a tributary to Wadai. Darfur's Sultanate had previously been a major player but lost control of southern trade routes leading to Central Africa while Wadai reaped the benefits. Over time, the region of Dar al-Kuti became more significant in the mid and late 19th century under Kobur and al-Sanussi, who promoted trade. The latter especially supported trans-Saharan trade through slave raiding. Once aligned with Sudanese warlord Rabeh, and massacring a French team in order to acquire firearms, al-Sanussi established an army replenished by slave recruits and imported guns. Cordell sees this as an example of secondary empire as al-Sanusi, like his former mentor, Rabih, used advanced military techniques and newer guns to build better equipped armies that preyed on various societies in North Central Africa for slaves, ivory, and new soldiers. 

However, given the origins of Dar al-Kuti in Dar Runga and Wadai, one can also see the state as inheriting a tradition that ultimately begins with Kanem, Bagirmi, and Borno in the Chad basin. In one sense, the state of Dar al-Kuti resembled those earlier, northern ones in its establishment of a centralized state which relied heavily on the slave trade and war. By preying on Banda, Kresh, Sara, and other groups who lacked centralized states, al-Sanussi was able to procure additional labor for local agriculture as well as exchange with Jellaba or other northern traders for cloth, guns, tea, sugar, beads, and other manufactured goods. In one sense, al-Sanussi accomplished on a smaller scale some of the same things Idris b. Ali of Borno did in the late 16th century. Like his more famous Borno counterpart, he incorporated firearms into his military and engaged in many population relocations or displacements while centralizing authority. Unlike Borno, Dar al-Kuti lacked a cavalry force and did not possess a large livestock, leather, salt or textile industry. Ecological and other factors contributed to this, as did Central Africa being more of a frontier in which Islam was largely restricted to the ruling group. Nevertheless, Dar al-Kuti was certainly also part of a pattern of Central Sudanic states that began long before in the north, one which gradually spread further south as more societies invested in trans-Saharan (and Sudanic) trade. Like its better known northern counterparts, Dar al-Kuti had its core, tributary and predatory zones but time and looming French conquest prevented the process from evolving into a larger state or empire.

So, Dar al-Kuti, despite its brief existence, represented a fascinating fusion of two separate developments that impacted the Central Sudan and Central Africa. One, the "secondary empire" effect, developed as soldiers with experience in the Egyptian conquest of Sudan brought military techniques and updated firearms to new regions. Their military superiority gave them an edge over various local populations, triggering migrations, displacement, and recruitment that reverberated across the vast region between Lake Chad and the Nile. Even centralized states did not always survive the challenge represented by Zubayr and Rabih. Indeed, Borno itself fell to Rabih in the 1890s. The second process was the gradual extension of the Central Sudanic state model further south into Central Africa as the frontier pushed south by the 18th and 19th centuries. The genius of al-Sanussi consisted of his decision to model his army and state on certain aspects of Rabih's destructive empire and build his own slave trading state. Even on the outer periphery of the trans-Saharan trade, itself a periphery of the Mediterranean and European-dominated commerce of his time, al-Sanussi created a large, centralized kingdom. Unfortunately for him, French colonialism and suppression of the slave trade meant his state was not long to last in the 20th century. 

Ancient Ghana and Mali

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

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

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

Trans-Saharan Africa in World History

We have recently revisited Austen's accessible read, Trans-Saharan Africa in World History, and highly recommend it. Sure, one could find dense, academic articles that see the Sahara as a model for studying African history or intra-African relations, but this is the best book-length work related to the subject that integrates the Maghreb and the Sudanic regions of West Africa into a single narrative. Austen highlights some of the Sahara's economic, religious, cultural, political, and ethnic diversity and contributions to African history and global history in a way that shows how, for several centuries, the Sahara was a global highway that connected various regions of Africa together, as well as becoming an important node in Afro-Eurasian commerce and exchange. Indeed, one learns much about how new trends in ideology and material culture went both ways in the northern half of the African continent, as well as placing it in a broader hemispheric and Islamic perspective so one can clearly see how trans-Saharan Africa was, in some ways, economically co-dependent, even if Austen argues that the Maghreb was less dependent on trade with the Sudan.

And the importance of Islam in regulating and fueling trade, even though trade between the Sahara and the Sudan predates Islam by at least several centuries, going back to the introduction of the camel, surely contributed to both 'shores' of the Sahara as various African societies (and Arabs) influenced each other and shaped the political destinies of states to the far north and the far south. One sees this in the Almoravids and Almohads, which were Berber dynasties with clear links to the world of Islam and trans-Saharan Africa, as well as in relations between Morocco and Songhay, the spread of Sufism and Islamic learning, and even the rise of manufactures and textiles from the Sudan into the Sahara and Maghrib, illustrating how interlinked these economies were. 

Sure, the Maghreb states were more thoroughly Islamized and tied to the 'Arab world' and Mediterranean, but Africans (especially Berbers in the north and the Sahara) profoundly shaped the development of new trends in trade, traversing the desert, the spread of new technology and ideas, the rise and fall of states, and the economic integration of the entire northern half of Africa into the global economy in the era before European hegemony. Indeed, this is something that merits further inquiry, how trans-Saharan commerce, movement and learning contributed to the medieval world, as well as shaping the growth of cities and intellectual thought in Africa.

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. 

Darfur Sultanate

Although Darfur is not Kanem-Borno, it is a part of a broader array of societies and polities that developed in the Sudanic Belt. Moreover, the Keira sultans of Darfur seem to owe something to the ancient civilization of Kanem-Borno. Indeed, if O'Fahey's excellent The Darfur Sultanate: A History, is any reliable indicator, Darfur seems to have been an easternmost extension of the "Central Sudan" region. The ancient use of Maghrebi-styled Arabic script in some of the early extant documents plus the presence of Kanuri words (goni, mayram) and people (oral traditions of a branch of the Sayfawa dynasty in the region, plus Borno faqihs and traders active in Darfur) do suggest some degree of influence from Borno. 

While O'Fahey seems to reject the theory of a Sayfawa colony in Darfur in the 1400s or 1500s as an unproven theory of Arkell, Darfur appears to have been, like Bagirmi and Wadai, at least partly influenced by Kanem-Borno and likely received some of its earliest Islamic influences from the west. Early medieval references to what is likely today's Darfur, particularly the Tajuwiyyin (probably the Daju, who may have established the first known kingdom or polity) and the subsequent Tunjur state, Uri, and the Darfur Sultanate as it existed under the Keira from the 17th century to 1916 definitely enjoyed cultural and economic ties to Kanem-Borno. Later, particularly after the conquest of Kordofan (making the kingdom as large as Nigeria for decades), Darfur's relations with the Nilotic Sudan and Egypt were unsurprisingly strengthened, and placing Darfur as a bridge of sorts between the Eastern and Central Sudan. In fact, one of the sultans, Muhammad al-Husayn, was of Ethiopian origin through his mother and merchants from Egypt and the Nilotic Sudan appear to have played a major role in the development of Kobbei as a city and economic link between the Nile Valley and Darfur. Fulani Islamic scholars, Borno faqihs, Bagirmi slaves and mercenaries, and even a Mauritian Shinqiti could become influential in the court or towns and settlements like Manawashi. 

As for the history of the Keira and their kingdom, O'Fahey mainly draws on al-Tunisi, Nachtigal, a number of charters and court records, letters, oral traditions, and external European and Middle Eastern documents that shed light on the history of the region or its relations with the outside world. Some pleasant surprises include Arabic local sources from the Tunjur state that preceded the sultanate, which was already partly Islamic, as well as a rich body of land charters that O'Fahey exploits to reconstruct land tenure (mostly usufructuary and entirely dependent on the will of the sultan), rural social structure, and the role of centralizing mechanisms in state administration. The richest source, besides oral traditions, appear to be the writings of al-Tunisi and Nachtigal for their detailed portraits of the sultanate in the 19th century. By this time, the sultanate was no longer making new conquests, but did appear to have gradually pushed south through slave raiding (although always requiring passage through lands controlled by Baqqara nomads) and incorporated a plethora of ethnic groups: Fur, Masalit, Meidob, Birged, Zaghawa, Fartit, and others. 

According to O'Fahey, Islam became one of the tools of the centralizing process as the Darfur sultanate transformed from warbands of the 17th century to one in need of more effective centralization in the 18th century after new conquests essentially ceased. The recipients of land grants and new administrative posts, often including Islamic holymen from the east or west, brought skilled and loyal bureaucrats, generals, and merchants into serving the state apparatus while simultaneously weakening the traditional titleholders. Naturally, this process was uneven and pre-Islamic religious and political influences continued to shape the kingdom. Islam did gradually become more influential on the Keira royal court, and several kings sponsored the construction of mosques, established land grants to religious scholars (like the mahrams and mallamtis of Borno), and engaged in the larger Muslim world to establish Darfur as a legitimate member of the Dar al-Islam. 

Yet, like the sultans of Agadez, the Darfur sultans faced severe limits to how much authority they could effectively yield. The low population density of Darfur probably placed limits on how much taxation and exploitation fief holders could get away with on the peasantry. Nomadic populations to the north and south controlled the access points of Darfur's major trans-Saharan trade commodities (slaves, ivory, gum arabic). In order to reach the slave raiding areas to the south and southwest, the kingdom's bands had to pass through lands controlled by nomads only loosely under the control of the sultans. Then, trans-Saharan caravans going to Egypt from Kobbei had to pass through desert or Sahelian landscapes under the control of the Zaghawa or other nomadic populations. It seems, perhaps like the Sayfawa dynasty, the Keira sultans engaged in some marital alliances with subject populations to facilitate trade and political incorporation of non-Fur peoples, but the demographic and ecological barriers imposed limits on how much authority the Keira could yield. If one adds the factor of conflicts over succession to the throne and the failure to adapt in time to new military technology, it is no surprise that the Keira were defeated by al-Zubayr so easily. Needless to say, Rabih, who served under al-Zubayr, would later go on to conquer Borno with the military tactics and armaments al-Zubayr used so effectively against the cavalry of Darfur.

Perhaps for our purposes, the best way to think about Darfur is in terms of its "Sudanic" dimensions as a crossroads of the Sudanic belt. In many respects, it brings to mind Borno and the Funj with regards to the land grants, mounted warrior elite soldiers, reliance on the slave trade (though O'Fahey thinks most slaves taken in raids by the Darfur state were used locally), tension between Islam and pre-Islamic practice, and centralizing administrative tendencies restricted by various factors. Unlike the sultans in Agadez, the Keira sultans were not elected by nomads determined to prevent the sultan from becoming too powerful, but obstacles to their centralization could be found in other ways. Like the Sayfawa dynasty in Borno, the Keira had to find a way to balance the sometimes conflictual subsistence economies of their subject populations while also supporting markets, long-distance trade, security, and, to the extent possible, cementing their relations with the larger (Islamic) world, even France. Darfur appears to have done this through supporting African pilgrims en route to the Holy Land, as well as engaging in diplomatic relations with the Ottomans, Egypt, and other states. One sultan, Muhammad Tayrab, even went so far as to order an expensive Arabic dictionary produced by an Indian scholar. Other sultans received honorific titles from Constantinople. These Sudanic states resemble, to a certain extent, "feudal" societies of Europe and Asia with a "Sudanic" state structure of private and communal land tenure, partly literate bureaucracies, monarchs with elective councils, and a constant struggle for harmonizing countervailing forces. 

Oasis of Salt

Knut S. Vikør's The Oasis of Salt: The History of Kawar, a Saharan Centre of Salt Production is required reading for anyone interested in the history of Kawar and Kanem-Borno. While suffering from a number of typos, this book actually surpasses the incomplete history of Kawar written by Marguerite Le Coeur. Unlike her work, Vikør reaches more level-headed conclusions and theories while also challenging Lovejoy on the economic and political dimensions of Kawar and the salt trade (slavery was marginal to salt production). Of course, as its focus is on Kawar, Kanem and Borno only appear in references to the Kanuri population of the region or in periods when direct authority of Kanem-Borno in the region was attested by various sources. Thus, Kawar is the center of this history, showing how a periperhal central Saharan oasis (and nearby Fachi and Jado) could be significant in the Sudanic salt trade as well as trans-Saharan contact. Kawar as a center-periphery is a key theme here, shifting in its reception of varying cultural influences based on the power dynamics of the Central Sudan and Sahara.

Vikør begins the study with an overview of Kawar, the geography, the relevant populations and the method of salt production. This precedes the second half of the book's chronological analysis, but is very helpful for contextualizing Kawar, Fachi and Jado. Then, the rest of the history analyzes Kawar from the time of Herodotus and the ancient Garamantes to the French colonial conquest. Le Coeur's earlier published history covers the same era, but does not rely on questionable assumptions (Le Coeur believed the Tomagra and Kaye were "Berbers"). In fact, Oasis of Salt is a very careful reading of Kawar's history based on our limited sources. Thus, moving from Herodotus and references to the Garamantes in the south from the Roman era, Vikør endeavors to cautiously interpret the various medieval Arabic sources from the 9th century to the late 14th. Moreover, for those able to read Arabic, an appendix includes the original texts with Vikør's translations. Needless to say, his interpretation of some of these Arabic sources is nuanced enough to give a more accurate impression of Kawar from the 7th century onwards. 

While we may never the full historicity of Uqba b. Nafi's "conquest" of Kawar or what exactly the famous alun of Kawar actually was, it becomes clear that Kawar was probably known or at least heard of by the Garamantes and probably an entrepot for trans-Saharan trade by the 9th century. The references to Kanem and Zaghawa or Zaghawi captives certainly suggests the Ibadi trade network had penetrated Kawar and likely introduced Islam into the region. This early Ibadi influence and links to the Fezzan are the reasons Vikør sees early Kawar as falling more into a Maghrebi or North African sphere of influence (exemplified in the ancient Arabic place names and the gassars, which seem to owe more to Kanuri or Sudanic influences but use an Arabic term), later shifting to predominantly "Sudanic" with the assertion of Kanem's control or interests by the 12th century. With the rise of Kanem (even under mai Arku, hints of Kanem's influence in Kawar and ties to the Tomagra and Dirku suggest early links), Sudanic civilization exerted its influence to a greater extent in Kawar and even the Fezzan. Then, despite the decline of Kanem by the late 1300s, the Bornoan state under the Sayfawas reasserted their claims to Kawar. To what extent Arku, Dunama, Ali Gaji, Idris Alooma, or other mais of Kanem-Borno were ever able to exert strong authority over Kawar is unclear, but surviving Borno mahrams and the Diwan suggest familial, tax exemptions, marital, and military strategies.

However, unlike Lovejoy, Vikør does not seem to see Borno's interest in Kawar as being connected to the trade in salt in the Sudan. Instead, Borno was more interested in securing Kawar for trans-Saharan trade to Tripoli, via the Fezzan. Of course, it is hard to imagine Borno not trying to take advantage of Kawar's salt production, as the Koyam were said to have been involved in it and perhaps the Bornoan state added Kawar's salt exports to local natron production in Manga and near Lake Chad to supplement their trade with Hausaland and beyond. In other words, even if trans-Saharan trade and the Kawar salt caravans usually operated independently, it is difficult to imagine Borno not actively promoting Kawar's salt trade. This does not exclude the possibility of Tuareg caravans carrying salt from Kawar to Hausaland, which the Kano Chronicle may suggest was occurring by the mid-15th century. Indeed, the ensuing conflict between the Tuareg of Ayar and Borno in the late 17th century and 18th century, even if it was often small-scale raids in Kawar, does suggest Borno's interest in Kawar were important for security of trans-Saharan trade but perhaps the profitable salt trade, too. Indeed, Tuareg incursions on the borders of northern Borno plus Tuareg settlements of enslaved farmers in Damergu must have been seen as as combined threat to Kawar and Borno's direct borders. The Koyam must have been threatened too, by the rising importance of Tuareg, specifically Kel Owey salt caravans to Fachi and Kawar. 

Overall, this is mandatory reading for anyone interested in Kawar, Kanem-Borno, or the Central Sudan. While there are some arguments of the author we disagree with or find implausible or lacking adequate backing, Oasis of Salt is so far the best read on Kawar's history. Lovejoy's work is on the larger Central Sudan and should be read in conjunction, and Le Coeur's work, based on field experience and exposure to the Teda of Kawar and Tibetsi, should likewise be added to one's list. Taken together, the three provide a great overview and list of sources on Kawar's historic importance and role as a bridge between Kanem-Borno and the Mediterranean. We disagree with the author about the Kanuri of Kawar being the remnants of an original proto-Kanuri population that once lived further north, but he's likely right about the population always being, mostly, Sudanic. We would like a bit more details on the clan systems of the Teda and Kanuri before accepting his theory, though it does seem that early Kawar's population was closely related to the Kanembu and Kanuri. In addition, he's almost certainly correct about the Zaghawa/Banu Duku to Sayfawa "dynastic" change, too. It is far more likely that the Sayfawa dynasty and "Zaghawa" represented two local lineages rather than Hume being a Berber outsider. But based on our limited sources, Vikør does not agree with Lange that there definitely was a shift in dynasties from pre-Islamic Kanem to the Sayfawa. In light of his generally careful scholarship and useful references and translations, this is an enlightening history of a Saharan region whose entire existence is predicated on trade. 

Les oasis du Kawar: une route, un pays

Marguerite Le Coeur's unfortunate death deprived the world of a second volume on Kawar. The second volume would have continued the history of this important central Saharan region into the colonial period and 20th century. Fortunately, the first volume, a short history of the area leading up to French colonialism makes a fine attempt at tracing the historical development of the Kawar oasis beginning with the Garamantes and Antiquity. The main problem, a similar one we noticed with Maikorema Zakari's book, is the paucity or severe limitations of the sources. Le Coeur and her husband had extensive experience in ethnographic research among the Tubu of Kawar, but for this volume on the precolonial era, Le Coeur had to draw from mainly external Arabic sources, references to Kawar in Kanem-Borno sources, and European geographers and travelers for more recent periods. 

Surprisingly, Le Coeur did not cite some sources that could have aided in the attempted reconstruction of 19th century Kawar's ethnic dimensions (Tubu and Kanuri populations), such as Nicholas Said's autobiography. But based on Lucas, Lyon, Hornemann, Barth, Rohlfs, Nachtigal, Monteil, and a few other European writers, Le Coeur's attempts to fill in some of the gaps of the medieval sources offers some interesting ideas about social, religious, economic, and ethnic relations for the people of Kawar. Fortunately, al-Idrisi, Ibn Said, al-Yaqubi, the chronicles of Ahmad b Furtu, and the Diwan of Kanem-Borno offers some clues about the close relations between Kawar and Kanem, and perhaps the importance of clans of Tubu or Teda origin who, at various moments in the past of the Sayfawa dynasty, intermarried with the kings, probably promoting trans-Saharan trade through Kawar (which linked Lake Chad to the Fezzan and Tripoli). 

By contextualizing Kawar in the larger trans-Saharan trade networks and political or economic shifts in the Central Sudan, one can see Kawar's declining importance in the period of Bornoan decline (late 1700s and for much of the 19th century). However, Bilma's salt caravan remained significant and was directly connected to Aïr and Hausaland. So even as direct trans-Saharan trade between Tripoli and Borno declined, Bilma and other parts of Kawar remained of some importance for the salt and slave trade, despite suffering from Tuareg or Awlad Sulayman attacks or raids. But commerce was essential for Kawar, to supplement the meager diet of its inhabitants and for the local notables or traders (who had been engaging in long-distance trade since the medieval era if not earlier) and the "kings" of Kawar: Tubu rulers of the Tomagra or Tomaghera origin who charged a tax on caravans. 

Since our medieval Arabic sources don't provide enough detailed information, Le Coeur's endeavor to use the few clues from their work and the scholarship on the Tubu and Kanem-Borno provides some inconclusive or interesting speculation. The rise and fall of particular Kawar towns or villages remains unknown due to the possible name changes since the medieval era and even the questionable 'conquest' of Uqba b. Nafi in the 7th century. Who were the original inhabitants of the oasis is also unknown, but it seems likely that Kawar was always multiethnic and included, as noted by al-Yaqubi, Berbers who participated in the slave trade between Kanem and Zawila. The "Zaghawa" or Teda-Daza appear to have been in the region since the 9th century if not before, probaby migrating into and out of Kawar via the Tibetsi, Borku, Kanem, and Borno. 

Then, later migrations and settlers from Borno and the incorporation of slaves probably encouraged the Kanurization of parts of the Kawar, at least in the southern end. Perhaps the "Kanuri" presence was always in Kawar when Kanem-Borno effectively occupied or 'ruled' the oasis. Local architectural traditions might hint at this, as Kawar towns with clear street layouts and homes that were not huts appear to owe more to the Kanuri. As for why Le Coeur assumes the Tomagheras and Kayes were "Berbers" is unclear, but Kawar must have been influenced by Berber and other Ibadi Muslim traders in the 9th and 10th centuries, and perhaps the origins of the Tura and Kawarian traders described by al-Idrisi may have some link to these early Muslim traders. Indeed, we were surprised Le Coeur did not attempt to use the Borno mahrams more often, as they would perhaps hint at the importance of Tura traders of Kawar origins in supplying Borno with horses and perhaps the close links that connected the Sayfawa dynasty with Kawar.

Overall, Le Coeur's study is a good introduction and overview to a complex region of the Sahara with an ancient history that likely connects the Garamantes, Tubu and Lake Chad. We still have to read Knut S. Vikør's much longer, detailed history of Kawar's salt production but Les oasis du Kawar is a great place to start. Also included are some interesting photographs by the author of various ruins and sites, such as Bilma and Seguidine and some useful quotations and references from Monteil, Nachtigal, and other 19th century European accounts. 

Takrur and the Coast?

One of the early West African states whose rulers converted to Islam at an early date was Takrur, located in the Middle Senegal Valley. Takrur became so well-known in Egypt and the Middle East that the name of their kingdom became a common appellation for the entirety of the "Western Sudan." Yet, despite Takrur being well-known to informed persons in Egypt, Syria, and North Africa from at least the 11th century onwards, surprisingly little is known of it. Prior to al-Bakri there does not appear to be any extant Arabic records that explicitly allude to the kingdom of Takrur. Yet archaeological evidence suggests the rise of polities along the Senegal River by the 500s, with ties to long-distance trade, iron metallurgy, riverine resources, and salt. Evidence of camel remains in the Senegal River Valley also suggest possibly ancient forms of trans-Saharan contact, or at least movement of peoples and goods from the southern Sahara to the Sahel and savanna. This period, perhaps corresponding with the early Jaa Ogo dynasty of Takrur, may have consolidated through iron metallurgy and this intra-regional trade. 

Part of the problem for Takrur may be Ghana overshadowing it, despite Takrur's conversion to Islam before Ghana. Ghana was mentioned first in external Arabic sources, and although Takrur was never subdued by Ghana, the latter kingdom may have been the more powerful with better connections to the sources of gold used in trans-Saharan contact. One also suspects that Takrur, located on the western end of the Sudanic region, may have suffered from its more peripheral location with regards to the movement of goods from West Africa to the Maghrib and Egypt. Takrur, and other parts of the Senegal River Valley, would also later fall under the domination of Mali, and may have been important for access to sea salt as an additional source besides Saharan mines. Unfortunately, the number of primary sources which could shed light on the nature of Takrur and its trading partners is restricted to the external Arabic sources which point to ties with the "Lamlam" (victims of Takrur slave raids), Awdaghust, Awlil, and traders from the east and north (Arabs and Berbers were also active in towns under Takrur, including the eponymous capital and Silla. 

However, surprisingly, little attention has been paid to Takrur's access to sea salt and coastal trade with North Africa. Due to the paucity of sources, one cannot ascertain to what extent this actually occurred, but Takrur was intimately linked to Awlil and, presumably, the island of Ayuna, a source of sea salt, ambergris, and turtle meat located somewhere on the mouth of the Senegal River or Mauritanian coast. Since Takrur was known for the export of gold and slaves, one would think some of these exports would have traveled west along the Senegal River to Awlil, where ships from the Maghrib were said to have visited. Indeed, Arabic sources allude to Awlil as the last point ships from the Maghrib traveled to, implying it was a well-known anchorage and presumably engaging in trade with the local Banu Gudala Berbers. For example, the Kital al-Istibsar of the 12th century makes this clear:

There is a salt mine also in the land of the Gudala at a place called Walili on the coast of the Ocean and from there it is carried by caravan to the neighboring countries. Near Walili in the sea is an island called Ayuna. At high tide it may be reached only by boats, but at low tie it may be reached on foot. Much ambergris is found there. The people there mainly live on the flesh of turtles, which are very abundant in that place and are so extremely large that a man may get into the shell (mahar) taken from a turtle's back and go fishing in the seas, as in a boat (Corpus of Early Arabic Sources, p. 142).

This same source mentions the island of Ayuna as "the farthest point reached by ships and the last anchorage in the Maghrib." And while it points to the salt from "Walili" being traded overland, earlier sources, mainly al-Idrisi, point to the use of river boats to transport salt: 

The Island of Awlil is in the sea near the coast. The famous salt deposit is there. No other salt deposit is known in the land of the Sudan. The salt is carried from there to all the towns of the Sudan. Boats come to this island, and the salt is loaded on them. The boats then go to the mouth of the Nil, which is one day's run from the island. They then proceed up the Nile to Sila, Takrur, Barisa, Ghana, and the other towns of Wanqara and Kugha as well as to all the towns of the Sudan" (Corpus of Early Arabic Sources, p. 106-107).

While secondary sources seem to disagree on when or if Takrur ever directly seized control of Awlil, al-Idrisi places the town of Awlil in the lands of the Maqzara of the Sudan. Ibn Sa'id also quoted al-Idrisi's statement, indicating the use of ships to carry salt from Awlil up the Senegal River. Of course, al-Idrisi's conception of every West Africa town lying along the "Nile" was incorrect, but he was probably correct in the use of ships from Awlil to carry salt directly to the "Land of the Blacks," which would have required it to pass through lands controlled by the kingdom of Takrur, which dominated Sila, Barisa, and, by the 13th century, Qalanbu (possibly the ancient kingdom of Galam), a well-known river port. One would assume the ancient town of Sanghana, consisting of two towns on both banks of the Senegal River, and said by al-Bakri to be closest to the Banu Gudala territory, fell under the rule of Takrur. 

One would think the rulers of Takrur would have endeavored to benefit from a coastal trade route to their west as well as the more well-known overland routes to Awdaghust and beyond. Al-Bakri and others mention Awlil as a source of salt for Awdaghust's trade with the lands to the south, and probably the source of Awdaghust's ambergris trade. Why not also trade gold, slaves, ivory, cotton, and other commodities along the Senegal River, dominated by Takrur, to the west to Awlil, where ships from the Mediterranean could transfer goods to the Maghrib and beyond? This would have allowed Takrur access to goods from the north without relying solely on Awdaghust or Ghana and its trading network to the east. Moreover, it may have increased the reputation of the kingdom as a source for gold from Bambuk and other lands without the costly trans-Saharan journey. 

Unfortunately, none of the Arabic sources are sufficiently clear to establish a regular coastal trade at Awlil that linked Takrur to the Mediterranean. Indeed, some of the sources suggest a possible pre-Islamic trade that connected Takrur to the mysterious Qamnuriya "Sudan" to the north, using ancient overland trade routes. Besides, other accounts of shipwrecks of mariners from the Mediterranean along the western coast of Africa seem to indicate that it was not very common for mariners to travel beyond southern Morocco. If, indeed, they regularly visited Awlil by the Senegal River, one would assume more sources could attest to this. Perhaps archaeological excavations in the region will shed light on this, as well as more research into the Banu Gudala. For instance, one of the tales of lost sailors mentions Banu Gudala, who did not seem too shocked by the presence of sailors on their coast. Moreover, a mention of "Tochoron" in a 14th century Iberian book on the known kingdoms of the world mentions travel to the West African coast from North Africa, to reach the "River of Gold" (the Senegal and Niger rivers, which were believed to be connected to the Nile). While the text describes a fictional journey around the known world, its author was clearly well-informed, and perhaps was not entirely fabricating details about West Africa, the Senegal River and trading ships. "Tochoron" or 'Takrur does appear in the text, but the narrative describes an overland route to get there across the Sahara. Nevertheless, Takrur should still have been a leading power along the Senegal River Valley, and probably closely linked to any trading activities at the mouth of the Senegal River or nearby coastal regions, which might explain why "Tochoror" appeared on European maps as early as 1339.

Awlad Muhammad Dynasty of the Fezzan

 

Krause's tentative chart for the Awlad Muhammad dynasty

Although difficult to research, the political history of the Fezzan after (and during) the period of the Garamantes is fascinating. Most intriguing to our purposes is the link to Kanem-Borno and trans-Saharan trade. Besides B.G. Martin's articles and G.A. Krause's German article on the Awlad Muhammad dynasty (borrowing heavily from a Tripoli source from the 18th century), finding details on the Fezzan's relationship with Kanem-Borno is difficult. External Arabic sources attest to Kanem's expansion into the Fezzan in the 1200s under Dunama Dibalemi, while later Tripoli sources mention the Awlad Muhammad dynasty and aspects of the Fezzan's relationship with Agadez, Katsina, and Borno. All things considered, it is fascinating to consider how a dynasty claiming descent from the Prophet Muhammad, via a Moroccan (or Mauritanian?) migrant who stayed in the Fezzan after returning from Mecca, was quite "Sudanese" in many aspects.

What is most interesting to observe, however, is the maintenance of Kanem-Borno influences in the Fezzan long after Dunama Dibalemi and the fall from power of Kanem's viceroy appointed in Traghen. According to Hornemann, the Awlad Muhammad rulers, who took power by the 16th century and ruled until the 19th, retained Kanuri political titles in their administration. Their capital, Murzuk, has also been described as a "Sudanese" city in its urban design, with a prominent dendal. Indeed, the Kanuri language was once widely spoken and Kanuri place names survived for centuries. Some European sources even describe the people of the Fezzan as "black" or dark-skinned and with manners and customs similar to those of the "Sudan" to the south. In fact, one 1705 European source even mentions the ruler of Fezzan as a cousin of the mai of Borno while others believed the Awlad Muhammad rulers sent tribute to Borno and Tripoli. Whether or not that was literally or always true, we know Idris Alooma of Borno did venture into the Fezzan. Moreover, the father of Ali b. Umar put to death Tahir, the Fezzani sultan who fled south after the pashalik of Tripoli invaded over the cessation of tribute. Undoubtedly, Borno remained very influential in the affairs of the Fezzan during the period of Awlad Muhammad rule. 

While much of the "Sudanic" influence in the Fezzan was probably due to trans-Saharan slave trading, pilgrimage routes, and the period of Kanem-Borno suzerainty of the Fezzan (not to mention the era of the Garamantes, which seems to have already engaged in trans-Saharan trade), it seems to resemble its "Sudanic" neighbors in a number of remarkable ways. Not only as a zone of influence for Kanem-Borno's northern expansion, but one whose rulers frequently found refuge in Agadez and Katsina. Trade, cultural, political and economic ties brought the people of Fezzan into close relations with the "Land of the Blacks," and the history of the Fezzan seems to be one heavily shaped by Kanem-Borno for several centuries. In that respect, it is interesting to consider the region as one uniquely shaped by northern expansion of a "Sudanic" state, and perhaps the northernmost area of influence for Kanem-Borno. Thus, if one can get away with it, the Fezzan joins Hausaland, the Lake Chad Region, Kawar, Wadai, Bagirmi and possibly Darfur as a vast region under the influence of Kanem-Borno. While we certainly would not want to diminish the influences from Tripoli and the Mediterranean, the Fezzan before the 19th century seems to resemble the "Sudan" in more ways than we hitherto thought.