The Era of the Princes

Mordechai Abir's history of the "Era of the Princes" in Ethiopia was not what we expected. We thought we were in for a lengthy analysis of the various puppet emperors and the effective rulers embodied in the ras who actually exercised authority in the name of the emperor while the various provincial nobles and warlords resisted the central authority. There is definitely some of that in Abir's short work, particularly the influence of the Oromo dynasty of regents who faced the challenges of the local lords, an expansive Egyptian state, a Tigre eager to use firearms to assert itself, and an autonomous Showa expanding to the south and southwest. Like his other work on Ethiopia and the Red Sea, Abir introduces the larger regional factors at play in the late 18th and 19th centuries, particularly the resurgence of Red Sea traffic, Muhammad Ali of Egypt's interests in Sudan and Ethiopia, the decline of the coastal Muslim states in the area surrounding the Ethiopian highlands, and British and French interests. 

The various states or kingdoms that developed in the south and southwest of Ethiopia, under Oromo rulers (and perhaps mixed Sidama and Oromo origins), were economically important as the source of the musk, ivory, gold, civet, and slaves exported from Ethiopia to the outside world. Control of the trade or routes in the transit of those goods, the principal Ethiopian exports, became increasingly important despite the frequent rebellions, wars, and conflicts of northern Ethiopia's contending nobles and factions. In addition, theological disputes also contributed to the rebellions, wars, and antagonisms involving the Church, the abuna appointed by Alexandria and Muslims or "pagan" Oromo perceived as threats to the Christian foundation of the empire. 

Then the rest of this short book shifts to detailing the rise of Teodros (Tewodros) and the ascent of the Showa kingdom based on its sound administration, integration of some of its Oromo subjects, tolerance for religious diversity, and protection of law and order, thereby establishing the kingdom as a major transit for trade. The Egyptian threat during the period examined, from  the 17770s to Tewodros, appears to have never been a serious threat to Ethiopia, but one can see how important the British were as a block to grander Egyptian ambitions in the Horn of Africa. A few local dynasties, particularly that of Showa, appear to have laid the foundations for modern Ethiopia through what Abir describes as an "archaic welfare state" that invested in infrastructure, provided pensions and staples to the poor, established law and order while favoring trade, and embodied religious toleration and the integration of non-Amhara. Surprisingly, neither the Tigre or Showa seem to have invested in guns manufacturing, coming to rely on limited imports. By now, there must be more detailed histories of this turbulent era in Ethiopian history. Nonetheless, this is a good start. 

The Solomonic Monarchy at Gonder, 1630-1755

We highly recommend anyone interested in "Sudanic" Africa or the history of the Sayfawa dynasty to take a look at  LaVerle Bennette Berry's dissertation on the Gondarine period in Ethiopian history. Although The Solomonic Monarchy at Gonder, 1630-1755: An Institutional Analysis of Kingship in the Christian Kingdom of Ethiopia is focused on a very specific period in the history of the Solomonic monarchs before the the Zemene Mesafint, Berry argues in favor of placing the Ethiopian kingdom in its African context and sees strong parallels with Borno's ruling dynasty. Of course, Berry's understanding of Borno political and economic history is through the lens of Cohen, particularly on Borno feudalism, but there are some interesting parallels between the two dynasties which might suggest some utility of contextualizing both as "Sudanic" states of a particular type. 

We would also add the Keira sultans of Darfur, the Istambulawa of Agadez, the Askiyas of Songhai, the Funj, probably Wadai, and maybe Bagirmi to our list as examples of other "Sudanic" states which, despite their religious differences (Islamic, Christian, or "pagan"), hint at deeper commonalities, influences, and particular "African" responses to universalistic religions, long-distance trade linked to the Mediterranean and Eurasia, warrior states, and centralizing authority. Naturally, one can find vast differences among the various polities and kingdoms that developed across the region, but some of their commonalities and perhaps similar relationships to the outside world can be illustrative of dynamic African polities. Nonetheless, the Sayfawa and Solomonic dynasties, both lasting several centuries, offer a better possible comparative approach despite the much richer corpus of sources for Ethiopia. 

In addition to their longevity, they were regional powers, used vertical rather than horizontal links, supported a universalist faith, claimed illustrious ancestry through their respective religions as a political "fact," were built on, at least somewhat, on war and raids, and relied on a system of "fiefs" with delegated authority for administering the provinces and countryside. To a certain extent, one can see periods of Bornoan decline when the mai was less active, something akin to the problem of Ethiopian emperors who did not campaign and thereby lost one of the major sources of their authority: providing booty, captives, and honor to soldiers who served them. But the parallels between the two dynasties and their respective declines may be due to divergent causes by the 18th century. 

Certainly the rise of al-Kanemi in the 19th century was due to external pressure on Borno from the west while the reduction of the Ethiopian emperor to figurehead by the time of Iyasu II was, according to Berry, a product of several decades of internecine strife among the nobility, clerics, and factional strife that saw the rise of the ras and assassinations or depositions. Unfortunately, we don't have enough sources on the Sayfawa dynasty to track all the coups, assassinations, and depositions to the same degree, yet Borno's eventual reliance on enslaved officials may have been a mitigating factor. Nor does one find evidence for the type of internecine theological disputes and factions in Borno that characterized Gondarine Ethiopia, unless one wants to try to argue that Sufism under Umar b. Idris represented a threat of sorts or later conflicts between the royal administration and non-aligned ulama was comparable. Thus, one should not overstress the commonalities or deny the obvious differences in environment, ethnicity, religion, and the vast corpus of chronicles that have survived in Ethiopia versus the smaller corpus from Borno. 

Katsina's Transformations

Although we were hoping for a fuller history of the important Hausa kingdom of Katsina, Yusufu Bala Usman's The Transformation of Katsina, 1400-1883: the Emergence and Overthrow of the Sarauta System and the Establishment of the Emirate is a worthwhile start. Perhaps due to Katsina lacking any surviving chronicle comparable to that of Kano, this study, based on the author's dissertation, is mostly an analysis of Katsina in the 18th and 19th centuries. The book begins with some of the local traditions and early history of Katsina, but most chapters actually seek to explain the establishment of the sarauta system and its replacement by the emirate of Katsina after the jihad. So, if one is searching for a detailed history of political institutions and economic, social, and demographic changes in the late 1700s and the emirate government within the Sokoto Caliphate, this book is for you. 

There is still much to be gained for the general reader with an interest in pre-jihad Katsina. Yusufu Bala Usman's critical stance with regards to the intellectually lazy interpretations of some historians was a fresh reminder for us to stop assuming categories, titles, or ethnic groups were static. Take political titles and offices, for example. The function of a title often varied or could be nominal and not necessarily carried out by the titleholder. Ethnicity was also never static, so one must be careful with terms like Habe, Fulani, Hausa, or attempts to identify the emirate of Katsina as "Fulani" without qualification. Indeed, throughout the 5 centuries of history covered by the text, numerous immigrant waves and communities existed in Katsina, often of Azbin, Mali, Borno, Fulani, or other origins. Thus, assuming static ethnic identities or lacking nuance is part of what Usman sees as a retrograde view of African history. 

For our purposes, however, the main benefit of reading this history of Katsina can be found in the description of Kasar Katsina political administration and structure in sarauta system of pre-jihad years. Hausa "traditional" religion and belief in iskoki, for instance, were explicitly linked to the origins of kingdom. According to Usman, the early kings of Katsina were connected to Inna or the Mother Earth spirit. Korau, the first king, is alleged to have killed Durbawa leader Sanau in the 1400s, while trade was increasing in the region and a new political order was necessary for the diverse residents. This tie to Inna and the iskoki explain the "pagan" influences on the rituals of accession for the sarki or kings of Katsina. But by the end of the 1400s, the ruler of Katsina, Ibrahim, was in correspondence with Egyptian scholar al-Suyuti and the rulers had adopted Islam. Over the course of the 1500s and 1600s, Islamic influences spread throughout the capital and various towns of the state. Unlike Borno, the ulama were not incorporated into this political system and maintained a certain distance from the palace. Thus, it is no surprise that Uthman dan Fodio's movement received some local support from those critical of the Katsina ruling dynasty. The complex juggling of Islam and the local religion which provided legitimacy to the dynasty is interesting and brings to mind our recent reading on the Keira sultans of Darfur and other Sudanic states. 

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. 

Sultanate of Ayar

Djibo Hamani's exhaustive Au carrefour du Soudan et de la Berbérie: le sultanat touareg de l'Ayar is a careful analysis of the "Istambulawa" dynasty of kings in Agadez for about 5 centuries, from c.1405 to 1905. Hamani's history of the sultanate begins with a geographical overview, some theories on Berber migrations to the Sahel and Sudanic region and some of the early polities and trading centers in and near Ayar, such as early ties to Tadamakka, Tigidda and its copper, the Azna and Gobirawa in the region, Marandet and the "white Berber" sultans of the area mentioned by al-Umari in the 14th century. Hamani's use of external medieval Arabic sources, local traditions, al-Suyuti and al-Maghili, the Timbuktu Chronicles, Palmer's translations or collection of sources and the famous manuscripts of the Chroniques of Agadez (mostly the same material translated by Urvoy and utilized by H.T. Norris) with some possible dates for them allow for some suggestive and probable theories on the early spread of the Tuareg into and near Ayar from the west and the north. The early ties to the Berber trading center and kingdom of Tadmakka to the west, suggested by the sources like Ibn Hawqal, point to the importance of trade and links to ancient Gao (Kawkaw) as well as Maranda and Marawa. 

Then the rest of the book shifts to the specifics of the "Istambulawa" dynasty's obscure origins (needless to say, they are not descendants of a Turkish prince of Constantinople, but more likely can trace their origins to an imam or religious figure from the west who was appointed or chosen by the major Tuareg confederations in Ayar) and the centuries-long struggle of the sultans to assert their authority beyond the control of the Tuareg elector tribes or their attempts to prevent a strong, centralized state from emerging. Intriguingly, some of the traditions collected by Hamani attribute part of the desire for a sultan or arbiter of the clans was due to Borno raids, something a little hard to imagine considering the difficulties the Sayfawa faced in Kanem and Borno during the late 1300s and early 1400s. But if these traditions can be relied on in a general sense, external factors like Borno and Songhay could have put pressure on Tuareg for some degree of political centralization, especially due to preexisting trade that an be traced back to the ancient Ghana to Egypt trade that traversed the region since the 9th century.

Undoubtedly, the desire for a regional sultan to arbitrate inter-tribal Tuareg conflicts and help unite the clans against external foes was complemented by the growing economic importance of Hausaland in trans-Saharan and West African trade. As Hamani emphatically insists throughout the text, Agadez's rise was linked to its geographical role as the northern "port" of Hausaland with North Africa and the Mediterranean. Hausa exports of textiles, grains, slaves, and other goods helped supply the Tuareg of Ayar (and later Adar) while also making Agadez an important trading center and the basis of the wealth for the Istambulawa dynasty who derived some of their revenue from the trans-Saharan trade. Indeed, the Hausa contributions to the formation and longevity of the Istambulawa dynasty can also be found in the terms used for the royal administration, the spoken language in Agadez, and the Azna and Gobirawa indigenous populations in and near Ayar. Indeed, influences from the Songhay and Borno can also be found in the region, but the economic significance of Ayar was directly linked to the Hausa states. Islam also played a role, as Islamic rulers of Ayar, Katsina, Kano, Borno, and Songhay in the late 1400s could use religion as a bridge between trading communities and, despite the weak Islamization of some of the Tuareg in the massif, introduce some changes or new sources of political legitimacy. 

According to Hamani, the early sultans of Agadez were likely weak and faced constant threats of deposition and coups. Over the course of the late 1400s, the dynasty established their capital in Agadez and, by the 1600s, succeeded in practicing patrilineal succession to the throne and greater political stability. Indeed, by the reigns of Muhammad al-Mubarek and his son, Muhammad Agabba, the sultans of Ayar conquered Adar, threatened Borno, attacked Zanfara, and appear to have had, for the most part, exerted their authority over warring Tuareg clans of Ayar. Unfortunately, just as the state had entered an expansionist phase and seemed to be moving in the direction of greater centralization, Muhammad Agabba was dethroned in 1720 and fled to Adar. The Adar sultans continued to recognize the authority of the main Istambulawa king to the north, but the rulers of Ayar lost more power and influence over the Tuareg factions during the 18th and 19th centuries. 

Kings were deposed or endeavored to pit clans against each other but often deposed or overthrown. The declining state of affairs manifested in the decline of Agadez as a center for trade and the movement of several members of the dynasty to Hausaland. This sorry state of affairs continued in the 19th century as effective authority, to the extent it existed, was in the hands of Tuareg chiefs or charismatic warriors who then faced the threat of Awlad Sulayman raids, Tubu bandits, the shifting political alignments of the post-jihad Central Sudan, and, finally, French colonial conquest. According to Hamani, the authority of the sultanate was severely weakened by Tuareg clans prohibiting it their own military force. Moreover, since their authority was not established based on conquest, the Kel Ayar never fully submitted to the institution and the geographic and climactic conditions in the massif likely contributed to the great local autonomy of the various groups. Perhaps, if the sultanate had been able to develop Adar as a source of revenue (based on its peasant cultivator population) and raise troops, the sultanate under Muhammad Agabba and his children could have maintained a centralized population and resisted the elector tribes who reasserted their control of succession. Alas, such a development was blocked by the Kel Ayar and the Istambulawa often became irrelevant players in Ayar and the Central Sudan.

While there is much to learn in his lengthy history of Ayar and the Sultanate, Hamani's interpretations and arguments do raise some questions. For instance, his view on the Bilma salt caravan and conflicts with Borno in Kawar seem to view it as just a minor affair with local Tubu. One is also not sure of the antiquity of the Bilma salt caravan or the Kel Away's role in it. Indeed, we thought Lovejoy's interpretation of the conflicts between Borno and Ayar over the salt trade in the mid-1700s was perhaps closer to reality. Moreover, it became rather difficult to keep track of the various alliances and shifting conflicts of the Kel Ayar. Perhaps the last 2 sections of the book could have been shortened or a timeline for the various confederations could have been of use to aid the reader. As for the "racial" question of the Tuareg and the "Sudanese" or Hausa populations of Ayar and Adar, Hamani criticizes Heinrich Barth for his racial if not racist reading of the history of Ayar, but Hamani also finds evidence of this in some of the sources, like the Y Tarichi and some of the animosity directed against the Kel Away (more sedentary and perhaps "mixed" than other Kel Ayar) from other Tuareg. Perhaps more recent research has delved deeper into the question of "race" in the sultanate and the ways in which Tuareg society and that of Agadez diverged. 

Kingdom of Allada

Although not part of the Sahel or "Sudanic" belt and not directly linked to Borno (though indirect links through Oyo and Hausaland were probably developed by the late 17th or early 18th century, the kingdom of Allada is an interesting polity to consider in the history of West African states. Robin Law's short history of the kingdom of Allada was a little disappointing. We were hoping for a study of the scope of his other monographs with rich analysis of the kingdom of Allada. Unfortunately, our existing sources are thinner than we realized, often mainly relevant to Allada's active involvement in slave trading and only hints at other aspects of the state's administrative, economic, political, social, or cultural dimensions. Furthermore, as Law convincingly demonstrates, the surviving oral traditions are often problematic and present a number of problems since they have lost the institutional framework of the old kingdom's court and the traditions of Allada and Dahomey have changed over time to express new or different genealogies, historical events, or composite characters. 

It is clear that Allada was probably the dominant kingdom of the Slave Coast (or at least a good chunk of it) but its own origins remain unclear (although it was in existence by the 16th century if not long before) and the exact nature of Allada's authority over its "fidalgos" and vassal provinces or territories is unknown. However, as Law suggests, there does seem to have been more than a little continuity in the court and structure of the state from Allada to Dahomey. That continuity plus the pieces of the puzzle Law endeavors to place in correct order with the aid of European contemporary sources and later traditions, provides the reader with some idea of the chronology of kings, the institutions of the kingdom, and the impact of slave trading on the kingdom's relations economy and foreign relations. Due to our unfamiliarity with the historiography of the Slave Coast, we were surprised how often Law disagreed or felt a need to add nuance to arguments by Akinjogbin, whose study of Dahomey seems to be quite seminal. We feel Law was probably correct about the qualifications he attached to Akinjogbin's interpretations of the impact of the slave trade as a factor in Allada's decline.

Unfortunately, this brief history is a bit too schematic and we wonder if more recent scholarship has uncovered new sources or attempted to integrate more fully studies on the 'Arada" or "Arara" in the Americas. There is a recently published study coauthored by Law on early Allada-Portugal relations, suggestive of important links between Christianity (or interest in it) as a way to strengthen Allada's economic ties to European traders. Perhaps the possible or alleged Christian presence in Allada could also be of interest, with at least one king being educated by the Portuguese in Sao Tome and Allada's ambassador to the court of Louis XIV being fluent in Portuguese and, at least nominally Christian. Who knows, maybe Latin Americanists and Caribbeanists examining so-called "Arada" or "Arara" captives in the Americas could potentially shed light on social, ethnic, religious, or political dynamics impacting Allada and its neighbors in the 1600s and 1700s. Law uses some of this material, particularly the work of Alonso de Sandoval but we are convinced more material might be available.