Bornu Sahara and Sudan

Palmer's Bornu Sahara and Sudan was fun at first but quickly turned into a depressing chore. Unlike Sudanese Memoirs, which mostly consists of primary sources, this volume pounds on the reader on the head with the various unsubstantiated theories of Palmer on the origins of Kanem-Borno and African civilizations. As one would suspect, everything is connected to ancient Middle Eastern, Berber, Nubian, and Abyssinian migration or influences. Palmer, per usual, relies on questionable linguistic theories to connect these various influences which eventually led to the formation of Kanem and neighboring kingdoms in the precolonial era. 

After reading half the book, we decided to skim the remainder for interesting sources, information or changes in Palmer's translations of some local materials. For example, some of the mahrams appear to be translated differently in this work than Sudanese Memoirs, and one gets the impression that some of the Kanuri songs and girgams quoted in Bornu Sahara and Sudan were not included in the previous work. However, for Palmer's version of the Diwan and some of the speculative theories on particular mais in the Sayfawa dynasty, one should still consult this work. 

Just keep in mind that it's not always clear where Palmer derived his information and some of the translations could be shoddy and misleading, especially when tied to his penchant for random linguistic connections. For instance, his theory connecting the name "Organa" for Kanem in medieval European maps is almost certainly incorrect, just as most of his work reflects the Hamitic Hypothesis and its hyperdiffusionist perspective. 

Abu Bakr al-Siddiq of Jamaica and Borno?

Although our sources for Abu Bakr al-Siddiq's maternal ancestry consist solely of his short Arabic autobiographies translated into English, it is interesting to consider his life in a "Central Sudanic" context. Incorporating Borno and Katsina into his biography and family background illustrates how connected or integrated West Africa in the precolonial era truly was. Cities in the "Western Sudan" like Jenne and Timbuktu, where Abu Bakr al-Siddiq's family originated (though claiming descent from the Prophet), were closely tied to trading and learning centers such as Kong and Bouna. The ancient cities of Timbuktu and Jenne were also integrated into "Sudanic" trading routes to the east, through Hausaland and Borno all the way to the Red Sea. Abu Bakr al-Siddiq's family history exemplifies this in a variety of ways. Therefore, one can view the family of al-Siddiq in various contexts: Atlantic World, Caribbean chattel slavery, Saharan and Sahelian Africa, and Dar al-Islam. 

First, who was Abu Bakr al-Siddiq's mother? Named Naghodi in one of his autobiographies, a Hausa term meaning "I am thankful," her Islamic name was Hafsa. She was likely a later wife of his father, Kara Musa. Indeed, al-Siddiq's autobiography lists several half-siblings, indicating that his father had numerous children with at least one other woman or wife. His mother was born in the capital of Borno, presumably some time in the second half of the 18th century. However, her Hausa personal name and links to Katsina suggest Hausa heritage. In consideration of the close economic ties between Borno and Katsina, as well as the past history of Katsina as a tributary state of Kanem-Borno, we cannot rule out a Kanuri origin or affiliation for Naghodi through her father. Indeed, both Katsina and Gazargamo were major trading stops for trans-Saharan caravans coming crossing through the Fezzan and Agadez to reach the "Sudan." Migration of traders, Islamic scholars, and other groups between Katsina and Borno must have occurred on a large scale.

As for the identity of his maternal grandfather, al-Siddiq identified him as al-Hajj Muhammad Tafsir of Borno AND Katsina. His mother was an infant during the pilgrimage of her father, and the pilgrimage to Mecca would have left Naghodi and her mother in Gazargamo for an extended period of time. This makes one think her maternal grandfather may have been a native of Gazargamo and perhaps from a large household with dependents, relatives, and economic means to support his children while abroad. Moreover, the inclusion of tafsir in his name points to a scholar with a background in Quranic exegesis. Furthermore, the fact that he went on the hajj at least once would have significantly increased his standing in Borno. Indeed, those who went on the hajj were even absolved of taxes by the Sayfawa rulers of Borno. Consequently, Muhammad Tafsir must have been of means, respected in Borno and Katsina, as well as someone who benefitted from the privileges of the hajj through tax incentives that Mai Ali maintained. Even if he was a Hausa or Fulani from Katsina, performing the hajj undoubtedly aided his business or trading concerns in Borno and beyond.

So, how exactly did al-Siddiq's father, Kara Musa, meet Naghodi? According to al-Siddiq, his father traveled to Katsina and Borno frequently, likely as a trader. A man from a reputable lineage in Timbuktu and the Middle Niger was likely an attractive prospect for al-Hajj Muhammad Tafsir's daughter. Both men were probably traders, and the marriage of Naghodi to Kara Musa would have helped cement trading ties between them. One can surmise that Kara Musa was older than Naghodi and may have already possessed trade connections to Kong and sources of gold and kola nuts through his connections to Dyula trading and scholarly networks. Perhaps a marriage helped ensure honest dealings or trading partnership between Naghodi's father and Kara Musa? Evidence in favor of this can be found in al-Siddiq's allusion to his father sending gold, Egyptian silks, horses, mules, and other goods to his father-in-law. 

This may have been initially part of a dowry, but his father's past of "always" traveling to Katsina and Borno hints at trade in goods, such as gold, motivating his travels from Jenne to Kong, Ghonah, and, eventually Katsina and Gazargamo. Evidence for traders from the Fezzan, Hausaland, and Borno knowing of Kong, Bouna, Dagomba, and the "Gold Coast" can be found in other sources, but the Dyula networks of Kara Musa would have been an excellent network for Hausa and Kanuri traders from the east to tap into for opening up relations with that part of West Africa. Perhaps Kara Musa's network and access to gold (and the possibility of kola nuts) intersected with Muhammad Tafsir's connections to Borno's salt and natron exports to Hausa cities?

Our other references to Hausaland or the 'Central Sudan" in the context of Abu Siddiq are more problematic or impressionistic. John Davidson's Notes Taken During Travels in Africa reports confirmation for al-Siddiq's illustrious pedigree in Morocco and the Sahara. Other informants even claim al-Siddiq was related to the rulers of Timbuktu, Kong, and "Houssa," which must be Katsina or a generalized Hausaland. While one can surmise from the earlier autobiographical fragments that al-Siddiq came from a respectable family with roots in the ulama of Timbuktu and Jenne, the grandiose relations attributed to him may not reflect the realities of post-jihadist West Africa. For example, Borno's capital was destroyed and abandoned by the time al-Siddiq returned to West Africa via Morocco. Katsina was also in a period of decline. The Sokoto Caliphate changed the political map of the "Central Sudan" and al-Siddiq would have been in the dark for about 30 years during these momentous decades. Nevertheless, one can see that several years after his bondage in Jamaica, al-Siddiq could still believably call upon powerful and politically connected relatives in Timbuktu, Kong, and Hausaland. This illustrates just how overlapping the worlds of Islam, "Sudanic" Africa, and the Atlantic were.

Bibliography

Abú Bekr eṣ ṣiddíḳ. “Routes in North Africa, by Abú Bekr Eṣ Ṣiddíḳ.” The Journal of the Royal Geographical Society of London 6 (1836): 100–113. https://doi.org/10.2307/1797559.

Barth, Heinrich. Travels and Discoveries in North and Central Africa: Being a Journal of an Expedition Undertaken Under the Auspices of H.B.M.'s Government in the Years 1849-1855. New York: D. Appleton, 1857.

Cohen, Ronald. The Kanuri of Bornu. New York: Holt, Rinehart and Winston, 1967.

Curtin, Philip D. Africa Remembered; Narratives by West Africans from the Era of the Slave Trade. Madison: University of Wisconsin Press, 1967.

Davidson, John. Notes Taken During Travels in Africa. London: J.L. Cox and Sons, 1839.

Dewière, Rémi. Du Lac Tchad À La Mecque: Le Sultanat Du Borno Et Son Monde (XVIe - XVIIe Siècle). Paris: Publications de la Sorbonne, 2017.

Gomez, Michael A. Black Crescent: The Experience and Legacy of African Muslims in the Americas. Cambridge ; New York: Cambridge University Press, 2005.

Lovejoy, Paul E. “The Kambarin Beriberi: The Formation of a Specialized Group of Hausa Kola Traders in the Nineteenth Century.” The Journal of African History 14, no. 4 (1973): 633–51. http://www.jstor.org/stable/180905.

Lucas, Paul, Lédyard, John, Lallemant, Antoine J. (trans.), Voyages de MM. Lédyard et Lucas en Afrique, entrepris et publiés par ordre de la Société anglaise d’Afrique ; avec le plan de fondation de cette Société, et une carte du nord de l’Afrique, par le major Rennel : suivis d’extraits de Voyages faits à la rivière de Gambie, par ordre de la Compagnie anglaise d’Afrique, et d’un mémoire écrit sous le règne de Charles II, concernant la grande quantité d’or qu’on trouve près de cette rivière ; avec une carte de ce fleuve et de ses environs, tracée sur les lieux. Paris: Xhrouet, 1804.

Wilks, Ivor. The Northern Factor in Ashanti History. [Legon]: Institute of African Studies, University of Ghana, 1961.

Kola Nut Trade in West Africa

Lovejoy's Caravans of Kola has been on this blog's reading list for quite some time. It seems to be a perfect companion to Lovejoy's even more detailed study of salt production and trade in the Central Sudan region during roughly the same period. Unfortunately for those interested in production, this study focuses more on exchange as the zone of kola growing was in the Volta basin under the rule of the Asante in the 18th and 19th centuries. Nonetheless, the two studies complement each other by illustrating how the market forces were related in the exchange of salt, natron, textiles, leather goods, and other products across a huge swathe of West Africa. Thus, as convincingly demonstrated by Lovejoy's study, the kola trade was one of the ways in which precolonial West African societies were shaped by market forces as well as linkages to the Atlantic and trans-Saharan systems. 

Even more intriguing is the analysis of the corporate kola traders of Hausaland in the 19th century, the Kambarin Beriberi, Tokarawa and Agalawa. These three groups, of Kanuri origin and "servile" backgrounds from the Tuareg lands to the north, took advantage of preexisting Islamic Hausa commercial diasporas in the Volta basin and the economic dynamism of Kano to become some of the wealthiest local traders in the Sokoto caliphate and northern Nigeria. Several chapters break down this development through the use of asali, Islam, Hausa language, large-scale caravan organization and networks established by previous Muslim traders who linked the Central Sudan with areas that later fell under the dominion of Asante. The ascent of these 3 groups points to the role of markets in upward social mobility in the Central Sudan for people of "servile" origin or those of Kanuri origin (Kambarin Beriberi) who emigrated to Hausaland in the late 18th century and early 19th century.

While we are more particularly interested in the earliest forms of this trade in kola between this region and Borno, the sources are richer for the period of 1700-1900. Consequently, our interest in how Borno's hegemonic position in the pre-jihad economy of the Central Sudan may have been linked to the kola trade before, say, 1759, remains somewhat obscure. Undoubtedly, the brief autobiographical texts of Abu Bakr al-Siddiq of Jamaica indicate a link between Jenne traders and those of Katsina and Borno by the late 18th century. Moreover, the problematic narrative of James Albert hints at links between Borno and the "Gold Coast" in the 18th century while the Fezzani trader cited by Lucas directly traveled to the region in question on behalf of the Awlad Muhammad dynasty. The Kano Chronicle likewise alludes trade in kola from Gonja to Borno through Hausaland by the 1400s or 1500s, and it is hard to imagine Borno traders not being involved with the trade in kola nuts at such early dates. This would be especially so if Borno was the dominant producer of textiles and leather products (or at least the main distribution center) for the Central Sudan before the Fulani jihad. 

Sudanese Memoirs

Although Herbert Richmond Palmer's scholarship on the history of Kanem-Borno and West Africa is horribly outdated and reflects a colonialist bias, one cannot avoid him. Just for his collection of primary sources (oral and textual) and the various translations of Arabic texts he published, his legacy in the study of the "Central Sudan" region of West Africa is strong. Unfortunately, his scholarship owes much to the Hamitic Hypothesis and fundamentally incorrect theories of ancient Elamite and Middle Eastern migration into West Africa that led to the formation of kingdoms like Kanem-Borno. 

His penchant for random linguistic connections based on unproven conclusions also weakens the analysis since he builds a grand theory of Berber or Tuareg origins for all the states of the Sudanic belt (but borrowing from Ibn Khaldun, Muhammad Bello and local West African sources to trace the origins of the "Tuareg" to the Blue Nile, Kordofan, Nubia) that relies on unproven links between Tuareg Tamashek and various words from Kanuri, Teda, Hausa, and other languages. Thus, Palmer sees the various states of precolonial West Africa as the creation of "Barbars" of "white" or "less negroid" origin. Indeed, in some cases entire ethnic groups are reduced to "servile" castes of their Berber conquerors or overlords.

In his defense, however, some of the local chronicles, mahrams, girgams, and oral traditions provided to Palmer by local elites in Borno or elsewhere in Nigeria made similar claims of ancient Near Eastern or Eastern origins in Yemen, the Nile Valley, Baghdad, or beyond. These local sources usually reflect an Islamic genealogy that stresses alleged descent from the kings of Himyar or prominent figures or places in the history of Islam, but one can see how tempting it was for colonial-era scholars like Palmer or Urvoy to interpret these local sources in their own highly racialized way. Where Palmer distinguishes himself from Yves Urvoy, however, is in his attempt at a more "nuanced" interpretation of the various waves of "Barbars" into the "Sudan" through Yemen, Ethiopia, and the Nile Valley. Palmer's Sudanese Memoirs suggests that ancient "Elamites" as well as Phoenicians penetrated the Sahara and Sudan in pre-Islamic times while the later wave of  Tuareg-like rulers from the East represented something with ties to the Nile Valley. 

Despite the lack of evidence for a "Barbar" origin of the Zaghawa, Teda, Kanembu or Kanuri, Palmer problematically borrows what he needs from Ibn Khaldun or 19th century  West African scholars like Muhammad Bello to find the basic "proof" he needs for his theories. Nonetheless, Sudanese Memoirs is mostly local sources and is of great value for some of the mahrams, girgams, chronicles, and traditions that shed light on intricate or provocative points of inquiry. Furthermore, Palmer's rendition of the Kano Chronicle was republished in this collection, always a worthwhile read for those interested in Hausa history.

But for anyone interested in the history of Kanem-Borno and the Sayfawa dynasty, Sudanese Memoirs contains several useful sources and thought-provoking interpretations. For instance, some of the chapters provide a breakdown of Kanembu and Borno tribes and clans, such as the Magumi, N'gal, Mani Kangu, Kuburi, and Kajidi. The various mahrams present a mix of traditions and historical personages that give some details on power relations and land tenure in Kanem-Borno, such as the Mahram of Umme Jilmi from the late 11th century (but probably written down centuries after the events it described). The Tura Mahrams for the Beni Mukhtar for example, allude to the sometimes violent nature of relations between Kawar and Air (The Dirku Tubu and Tuareg of Air) during the time of mai Bikir (c.1184, according to Palmer's chronology), who was almost certainly the mai Abdallah Bakuru of Lange's chronology. If accurate, these Tura mahrams and the Mahram of Umme Jilmi for the descendants of Muhammad b. Mani and the Tura Tuzan suggest the Kawar region and traders of Tubu (and Arab?) origin were very important for Kanem by the late 11th century, and Kanem's rulers were mediators in conflicts among the Saharan populations nearby. This can be corroborated by the Diwan giving several examples of early mais whose mothers came from Kay (Koyam) and Tubu clans. 

A few of the later selections in Sudanese Memoirs also contain some interesting if not verifiable information on the Sayfawa dynasty's political history. Some of the girgams, such as the Saifawa Girgam in possession of Galadima Kashim Biri, provide names that do not appear in the formal Diwan. According to this document, Kashim Biri, who acted as regent during one of the pilgrimages of Ali b. Umar (r.1639-1679), tried to seize the throne but was defeated when Ali returned. His fate was to be blinded and exiled. It is highly likely that this Kashim Biri, son of Umar (perhaps Umar b. Idris, the father of Ali) was the figure behind the revolt in 1667 that resulted in Agadez attacking Borno and unknowingly selling Ali b. Umar's nephew into slavery in the Maghrib. 

The Masbarma family of wazirs and Islamic scholars also merit discussion. The chronological details are unclear in the text,, but wazir Umar Masbarma ibn Uthman ibn Ibrahim's influence on mai Ali b. Muhammad Dunama (Ali Ghaji, the builder of Gazargamo) was said to be so strong that it sparked opposition from other prominent members of the court. This very same Umar Masbarma would later go on to chronicle the exploits of Idris Katagarmabe. The source, unfortunately, gets some things wrong but offers one of our few detailed looks at the Masbarma and their close relationship with the Sayfawa dynasty, which included marriage to Mariam Hafsa, a daughter of Ali b. Muhammad Dunama. What stands out to us is the mention of Mariam Hafsa as well read, raising the question of women and education in precolonial Borno. 

Sadly, the Kindle edition of this text features excessive typos and should be avoided. Of course, if that is the only accessible edition of this important book, then we suggest purchasing it anyway just to have access to the text. Despite all the ideological problems of Palmer and the lack of the original Arabic documents, Sudanese Memoirs is required for the history of Kanem-Borno and Nigeria. 

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. 

Tamerlan and Borno?

Bivar and Shinnie's Plan of Borno's Capital

Let us examine the case of a literate African named Tamerlan in Saint Domingue (Haiti) for evidence of another link between Haiti and Kanem-Borno. We have attempted an analysis of Tamerlan in a previous post. For those who don't remember, Tamerlan is mentioned in a book by Colonel Malenfant. In one anecdote, after mentioning Arabic amulets in Saint Domingue, he describes meeting Tamerlan, in 1791, a man who could read and write in his own language, as well as that of a type of "mulattoes" with long hair. Tamerlan wrote a prayer and the name of his language on a piece of paper for Malenfant, who later lost it.

At first he thought Tamerlan wrote something in Arabic, but he said no. So, there's some mystery about Tamerlan's writing. If we look at other clues in his story, however, it seems likely he wrote in ajami for his own language, possibly Kanembu or Kanuri. The writing of the long-haired mulattoes may have been the Tuareg Tifinagh, something he could have picked up from being an educated man of Borno who interacted with Tuaregs. Perhaps a mere coincidence, but Niebuhr's description of Borno uses the Kanuri word for Tuareg, and describes them as long-haired, suggesting Kanuri descriptions of Tuareg in the 18th century also linked them to long-hair. Additional clues suggest Tamerlan was from the interior of western Africa (it took more than 3 months for him to reach the coast after being taken captive). He also described himself as the teacher of a prince and as someone who produced books or texts. This would suggest a respected scholar or royal tutor, which would have been a common practice in Borno, as various mais aligned themselves with scholars and supported students. In West Africa, such a person would almost certainly be of a Muslim background and probably from a region with a long tradition of scholarship. Borno would fit the bill quite well.

He also describes the royal town as being a vast city, estimating it to have as many inhabitants as Port-au-Prince, the Cul-de-Sac plain, Arcahaie, and Leogane. Malenfant takes this to mean the city of Tamerlan had around 300,000 people, but a more reasonable estimate would be far less, as those areas of Saint Domingue probably didn't have a total population of 300,000 people in 1791. The towns would have been usually small, with a very large enslaved population in the Cul-de-Sac plain near Port-au-Prince (tens of thousands). But something on the scale of 100,000-200,000 would be more realistic, which could easily have been the case if Gazargamu had around 10,000 houses in the late 18th century. Either way, Tamerlan describes himself coming from the African interior, being literate in 2 writing systems (one possibly Tifinagh), and coming from a vast capital city ruled by a powerful king who would pay a fortune to have him back. We know in other incidences that Borno's rulers paid ransoms for the return of relatives or valuable persons, exemplified by Ali ibn. Umar and his nephew or as Nicholas Said reveals in his autobiography.

I don't know about you, but we could see Tamerlan being from Borno. While people from Borno were not very common in Saint Domingue, "Bernon" or "Beurnon" Africans were in Saint Domingue. Indeed, Descourtilz wrote about Borno based on discussions with "Beurnon" people in the colony, who told him how highly valued religious texts were in their homeland. In addition, Hausa captives were also there, so perhaps Tamerlan could have been from Katsina or Kano, or a tributary state of Borno. Yet the vast metropolis of his king sounds like Borno's capital. Of course, Malenfant remembers Tamerlan describing a well aligned city built of wood, where most of the houses were a single story. Gazargamu would have included brick and clay structures, but very likely a lot of wooden structures or "huts" as part of household compounds or the housing of the less fortunate. Perhaps Tamerlan was exaggerating how well-aligned the streets of the city were, as North African sources suggest Gazargamu had an irregular layout without proper "streets." Indeed, with the exception of the dendal and the street leading to the principal mosque, we find it hard to believe the city of Gazargamu was well aligned. 

With these caveats, we still think there's a good chance Tamerlan was indeed a native of Borno. Perhaps someone with a thorough education, who could understand Tuareg Tifinagh, and was respected and supported by the ruler of his state. While he could have been from other parts of West Africa, the fact that he claimed to be from a vast city in the African interior and comes from a society where scholarship, ajami writing, and books were highly valued, suggests a Borno origin. The enormous city he described may have been the Gazargamu said to have had 200,000 inhabitants. If so, Tamerlan's story of his origin can be additional evidence for the substantial urban civilization of Borno under the Sefuwa dynasty. In order to confirm this story, we would need to find a source that mentions a royal prince of Borno being killed in the attack that led to Tamerlan's enslavement, perhaps the very same cruel prince mentioned by Descourtilz? Alternatively, Tamerlan could have hailed from East Africa, perhaps Ethiopia or Sudan, but we consider that less likely due to the much higher numbers of West and Central Africans in Saint Domingue. 

Ulama and the State in Borno

In our quest here at the blog to read all the relevant Nigerian scholarship on Borno, we finally read Bobboyi's dissertation, The 'Ulama of Borno: A study of the relations between scholars and state under the Sayfawa, 1470-1808. Due to their local proximity, access to oral and written sources, and a deeper familiarity with Kanuri history and culture, we have been trying to find more of the often inaccessible studies on Kanem-Borno by African scholars. Sadly, these excellent secondary sources are not easy to find. Lamentably, some of the precious primary sources at Nigerian archives or museums are not cited enough by outsiders, so we have to rely on Kanuri and other Nigerian scholars who have read the documents and have access to excellent sources on oral history to add context and fill in the gaps in our knowledge. 

For instance, Bobboyi's dissertation, and other studies by Nigerian scholars, cite late Sayfawa-era primary sources excluded in other studies, particularly two texts by Maina Muhammad Yanbu. These sources, although late in the history of the dynasty, should be more widely known, cited, and translated to add to the list of known internal textual sources on Kanem. But besides the use of important oral and written sources, Bobboyi's study establishes a clearer idea of who and what the ulama of Kanem-Borno were during the Borno period of the dynasty, with hints of continuity from their earlier Kanem phase. We get an inkling of the reputable scholars and their disciplines, the educational curriculum, how they were fully integrated into the state apparatus of Kanem-Borno as an Islamic administration, the role of the mahrams in shaping ulama-state relations, and Borno Sufism. This last chapter was probably the weakest, but given the limitations of the sources, a step forward in contextualizing the earlier history of Sufism in Kanem-Borno. Once we have read more of the Nigerian scholarship, we shall return to these topics in light of other perspectives on the administration of Kanem-Borno and Islamic influences.