Balancing Written and Oral History of the Songhay

Hassimi O. Maiga's Balancing Written History with Oral Tradition: The Legacy of the Songhoy People is one of those studies by a member of the Songhay people with so much promise. As a scholarly work authored by someone with local insights, one expects a lot from the author and his ambitious title. Indeed, one occasionally finds references to this book among online Afrocentrists who promote it.  Unfortunately, Maiga's study fails to deliver on many levels. We have learned the hard way to always be wary with the online Afrocentrists. Check their sources and one can easily discover severe limitations of their paradigm. 

What emerges from reading the text is a rather confusing attempt at face-value interpretation of Songhay or Songhoy traditions. There is no nuanced, sophisticated interpreting of oral traditions here. Moreover, Maiga relies heavily on dated sources such as Felix Dubois and J. Beraud-Villers. At times, Maiga appears to actually believe the Songhoy derive from Yemen (Dia brothers, who were somehow also Lemta Berbers?), Egypt and Nubia. Without any evidence, Maiga also asserts a deep antiquity of Katoutka and Koukya, which apparently existed at the same time as the pharoahs of Egypt. We know Gomez's African Dominion cites research demonstrating human habitation of the area of Gao since 2000 BCE, but we do not have sufficient evidence of early urbanism around that time. As more proof of the text's flaws, there's even a bizarre passage claiming potatoes were cultivated in the kingdom of Ghana! 

Furthermore, Maiga is the only writer we have encountered who claimed the Songhoy invented a writing system or script. He linked the "Kumbaw" ideogram writing system to the Kumbaw and/or Sonanche of Gao, allegedly the traditional specialists of writing. However, our previous attempts at verifying or corroborating Maiga's claim failed. There very well could have been some kind or ritualistic or ideograph system used by Songhoy specialists, but Maiga's haphazard presentation and flawed attempt at balancing written and oral sources does not inspire confidence or hope. One would also think better scholars would have discovered this Kumbaw writing system by now. Even if they were Western ethnographers and historians more interested in the political history of the Songhay kingdoms or Islamic influences, wouldn't a Jean Rouch or Hunwick have written about a Songhay ritual writing? 

One is better off consulting Hunwick, Rouch, Boubou Hama or Paulo de Moraes Farias for a much deeper analysis based on synthesizing written sources and oral history. To his credit, the author's presentation of the various dynasties from the Koungorogossi, supposedly the first, to the Dia is interesting. Does he present any evidence that the first Songhoy dynasty existed 3 centuries before the Dia brothers arrived in c.670? No, unfortunately. But the family manuscript Maiga mentions in this context sounds interesting and should be copied and analyzed by others interested in Songhay history. There are bits and pieces of his study which warrant further inquiry. A better scholar might be able to propose a more historically accurate reading of some of the traditions and family manuscripts utilized by Maiga. 

Nubian Renaissance of the Funj

Although Spaulding's coauthored Kingdoms of Sudan includes much of the analysis found in his earlier dissertation, we felt a need to read the original for more context. Ostensibly a history of the Funj Sultanate's northern Abdallab state or region from 1600-1821, in practice the dissertation is organized in two parts: political history of the Abdallab state or provincial kingdom of the Funj Sultanate and an analysis of Islam and commerce as forces undermining the Sultanate. Spaulding uses oral traditions, the Funj Chronicle, the Tabaqat and various external sources in his endeavor to reconstruct the outline of the Abdallab as well as the Funj. Funj origins and their Sultanate as a "Sudanic" state sharing many commonalities with a string of kingdoms stretching from Senegambia to Sinnar (Sennar) is a persistent theme. The Funj state as a non-tribal, non-Arab, polyethnic Nubian state with continuity from the medieval Christian kingdoms is likewise a consistent theme.

The idea of the Funj as a southern Nubian people pushed from their homeland along the White Nile by the Shilluk seems plausible enough. Linguistic evidence and Shilluk traditions do suggest it is plausible. That the Funj state retained the horned crown of medieval Nubian kingship as well as the practices of matrilineal succession and seizing vassal princes as hostages is also suggestive of continuity with Christian Nubia. The ecology and mixture of subsistence economies were additional factors of continuity from medieval to Funj Nubia. The region's mix of sedentary farmers, camel and cattle pastoralists, hill peoples probably maintained or inherited much of the same lifestyle of their medieval forebears. Indeed, according to Spaulding, the early Funj kingdom from c.1504 was barely or only superficially Islamic. In fact, the commercial factors favoring Islamic conversion were probably paramount for Amara Dunqas choosing Islam. The Beja traders and their network linked to the Red Sea plus Islamic influences from northern Nubia and Egypt made Islam attractive for serving long-distance trade. 

Nonetheless, the Funj were carriers of a more "traditional" or "African" political system based on administered commerce under royal rule. As "divine" kings associated with life, death, and sustenance through a number or rituals, accession rites, and pre-Islamic belief, the sultan was legitimate to the peasantry by looking after their interests and, ideally, defending them from merchants who abused the sheil system of advancing grains or other goods to peasants before harvest time to trap them in debt. Intriguingly, Spaulding proposes that popular Sudanese religion was neither exceptionally Christian (medieval era) nor one of orthodox Islam. Popular belief under the Funj revolved around baraka (more as a life-force), saints (fuqaha believed to possess baraka) and veneration of these saints for the transference of baraka. Noticing parallels with a number of "traditional" African religious systems from Rwanda to Haiti, Spaulding suggests this worldview was gradually undermined by Funj rulers adopting orthodox Islam to appease Muslim merchants. 

This appeasement of merchants and embrace of orthodoxy, in turn, led to a decline in the legitimacy of the kingship and nobility to the peasantry, who saw traditional rites removed from kingship. Kings also sided with the orthodox Islamic merchants, even when the latter exploited their indebted peasants or stockpiled grain during times of famine. The decline of Sinnar and Abdallab rule, especially pronounced after 1762 and the subsequent wars of the Hamaj Regency against other parties, further eroded the government through increasing control of caravans by merchants. While the state declined and fragmented with provincial rulers battling for control or domination of routes and resources, the peasantry aligned with charismatic fuqaha whose virtues and Islamic piety were respected by all. These Islamic holy men defended the exploited peasantry and challenged kings. In response, rulers bestowed land grants upon them and gifts for receiving their prayers and virtues rather than spells or threats.

On the question of the Islamic holy men and the peasantry, Spaulding's analysis is perhaps most interesting. The obvious parallel for us is Borno and mallam-peasant relations. We know, like their counterparts in the Sinnar Sultanate, Borno's Islamic holy men received land grants with tax-free rights. Some of them also criticized the government and spoke on behalf of the peasantry and downtrodden. Moreover, they too included "insider" ulama and clerics who worked with or on behalf of the Sayfawa dynasty. What we would like to know more about is the local Bornoan merchant class during the same era, from c.1500-1820. Were they also ensnaring the peasantry in debt while pressuring the local government to practice more orthodox Islam? Since so many of the Sayfawa mais had performed the hajj and were a Muslim dynasty since the 11th century, the role of Borno or Kanuri merchants in promoting (or not) Islam must have been different than conditions in Sinnar. So, was the basis of the mallam-peasant alliance in Borno due to fief-holders overtaxing cultivators? It would be fascinating to discover more on Kanuri popular religion, especially how it transformed over time to become, in part, a challenge to established authority. Sadly, the only semi-detailed account we know from before the demise of the Sayfawa dynasty occurred in the 1820s among the Manga, but explicitly against Muhammad al-Amin al-Kanemi. Nevertheless, the "feki" associated with that rebellion bore many of the same characteristics as "outsider" fuqaha of the Funj Sultanate.

To conclude, Spauding's work is an indispensable source on the Funj. Beginning with the fragmentation of medieval Nubia and Funj origins until the Turco-Egyptian invasion, this dissertation attempts a promising synthesis of political and social history. It is possible later scholarship has challenged his characterization of medieval Nubian states as "Sudanic." Perhaps he was wrong in his characterization of pre-Christian, pre-Islamic Nubian religion. However, he was correct about continuity as a major element in understanding the flow of Nubia's history. And the Islamization and Arabization of the region was far more complex than what modern Sudanese traditions or external Arabic sources suggest. The Funj emerge as builders of the last great Nubian state, one that promoted the forces that ultimate transformed the Nilotic Sudan whilst simultaneously bearing the flame of an ancient civilization. One cannot help but wonder how things would have developed without the Egyptian invasion in 1821. 

Oriental Sources Concerning Nubia

After reading a short book on Alwa and revisiting Welsby and Ruffini, we decided to take another look at Vantini's Oriental Sources Concerning Nubia. We read Vantini back in 2020 during a past obsession with the question of Kanem relations to the Eastern Sudan. While one cannot deny the great use of having a compilation of various "Oriental" sources on Nubia from Late Antiquity to the early 16th century as a reference work, far too many of the extracts are incredibly repetitive. Some selections nearly repeat verbatim earlier chronicles or geographical texts, often adding little or no new information. These repetitions can be useful in terms of illustrating the sources for later writers, but makes for rather uninteresting reading. However, it was occasionally interesting to see how mistakes of copyists or authors introduced more confusion, such as transferring to the Nubians a description of the "Zaghawa" of Kanem. Or confusion mixing the Nubians with the Habasha or Beja when detailing relations between the Patriarchs in Alexandria and the southern Christian populations of the Sudan and Ethiopia. Some of these mistakes raise questions about the reliability of the included texts for parts of the "Sudan" and contain clearly legendary materials or outdated ideas derived from Ptolemy on the course of the Nile and the interior of Africa. 

In spite of the cultural, religious and perhaps racial bias of several of the sources, they are of paramount importance for understanding the societies of medieval Nubia. Although modern scholars are correct to stress the significance of relying on internal sources to reconstruct the history of the region, we have relied so heavily on external Arabic sources for West Africa during this same time. If historians have, over time, been able to match the external Arabic texts on West Africa with local archaeological, textual and oral sources, then one should be able to do the same for Nubia. After all, Nubia was even closer to the central Islamic lands and known to the ancient world for several millennia. If used judiciously, these sources tell us something, albeit not enough, of the kingdoms of Makuria and Alwa over a period of 1000 years. Sadly, Alwa was, despite its reputation as the wealthier kingdom, not as well known. But these sources have been used by scholars such as Zarroug for proposing some theories on the kingdom's likely role in east-west trade routes. 

Moreover, when interpreted together, the external Arabic sources point to connections between the different regions of the Sudanic belt of the African continent. We are unsure if some of the copyists or authors made a mistake here, but one source in Vantini actually refers to the ruler of Dahlak levying a duty on the ships of al-Kanam. Our first response is to think Kanem was connected to the Red Sea through ships commissioned by their rulers. There are also references by al-Idrisi to conflict between the Nubians and the Daju between Kanem and Nubia. Other sources mention war between the "Zaghawa" and Nubians. Additional sources point to the pilgrimage route that went from Upper Egypt through the Eastern Desert to Aydhab. Beja and Nubians may have interacted with travelers and traders from the Western and Central Sudan through those arenas, not to mention in Egypt itself. In addition, conflict between the Oasis Dwellers west of the Nile and the Nubians are casually referenced, leading us to wonder about Nubian interests in trade to the northwest and west. Despite their limitations, these sources possess a number of suggestive implications for cultural and economic connections across the "Sudan."Hopefully archaeologists in Chad and Sudan will uncover evidence. 

Of One Blood and Meroe

We finally read Of One Blood because of our interest in Sun Ra. Past instances of African American science fiction or speculative fiction seems relevant to any research into Sun Ra's inventive and, perhaps, wacky notions. Pauline Hopkins also appears to have beat Ishmael Reed in establishing a fictive link between "voodoo" and ancient Nile Valley civilizations, although Of One Blood is a weaker novel that perhaps attempts to juggle too many competing "out there" or supernatural phenomena (mesmerism, occultism, second sight, magic mirror in Telassar, spiritualism). It also confronts issues of racism, the unity of the human species, incest, and the horrors of slavery's impact on the black family, including a surprising revelation near the end of the novel about Aubrey Livingston's relationship with Reuel and Dianthe. 

But the most interesting aspect of this early Afrofuturist" novel is its use of Meroe, and a hidden city of its descendants, as a symbol of an ascendant Ethiopia who will restore the prestige of the black race in modern times. Drawing heavily on the discourse of Ethiopianism, which had influenced black nationalism in the US throughout the 19th century, "Ethiopia" (really, Meroe or "Nubia) returns to its greatness as one of its lost descendants, an Afro-American passing as white, returns to the throne. Telassar, the hidden city of Meroe's descendants, has maintained the ancient civilization in secret. With the return of a descendant of Ergamenes, they are poised to return to greatness. Since Ethiopianism drew from Christianity as practiced by African-Americans, Hopkins employs the Bible and classical sources to offer an Afrocentric view of the ancient world. Basically, all civilization and the arts derived from Ethiopians or their kin in Egypt, Canaan, and Babylon. 

For these aforementioned discursive uses of Ethiopianism in a speculative fiction guise, Hopkins has written perhaps the most interesting of early "Afrofuturist" literature. In terms of its prose and structure, there is room for improvement, but Reuel's use of mesmerism and occultism in the Boston chapters is directly relevant to the advanced hidden science of Telassar and the Afro-American's deep past. There is enough material here to appeal to academics, hoteps, black feminists (particularly through the character of Mira and Aunt Hannah), and those merely curious about unexpected speculative fiction. 

By the novel's call to a return to Africa, it also fits into the larger history of vindicationist black history, stressing the great past of the African as a way of countering white supremacy and instilling a pride in African Americans. However, it also demonstrates the limitations of Ethiopianist discourse as its centered on Christian, Western notions of civilization. It is also unclear what Telassar, with its Afro-American king to inaugurate a new dynasty, will accomplish for an Africa under European conquest. It possesses some advanced technology, but the reader is left in the dark about the future relations between Telassar and imperial Europe. Nonetheless, it is a far more entertaining and interesting world than that of Black Panther.

A History of Libya

John Wright's revised and updated A History of Libya is a worthy and problematic introduction to Libyan history. Any attempt to encompass over 2000 years of history in a short book is doomed, so it mostly covers the 20th century and the Gadafi (Gaddafi) regime. Wright, though revising and updating this general history to include the fall of Gaddafi during the Arab Spring, retained a number of perhaps outdated or incorrect assertions. For example, Wright must have written the initial form of this book in an era when proponents of large-scale trans-Saharan trade in Antiquity were more influential. Wright also misidentifies Dunama of the Sayfawa dynasty as a Borno king even though Kanem was still the core province. Sometimes Wright's characterization of Libya's dependence on oil seems a little unfair, particularly for repeatedly referring to its oil wealth as unearned even though Libya was just exploiting a valuable resource. Of course, historians or scholars today in 2022 would also have more sources to piece together the tumultuous final days of Gaddafi and the continual unrest in Libya today. Perhaps with the benefit of hindsight, we know the consequences of NATO intervention in the Libyan civil war eventually contributed to the multifaceted crises in that country and the plight of migrants in the Mediterranean. 

Despite our quibbles with Wright's general history, it perfectly demonstrates a number of interesting points pertinent to our interests in Kanem-Borno and trans-Saharan contacts between Tripoli and the Chad Basin. Wright begins with the prehistoric Sahara, Phoenician settlements, Greeks in Cyrenaica, the Garamantes, and the expanding Roman Empire. While this is not directly relevant to Kanem-Borno, the early appearance of the Garamantes and Tripolitania's position between the Sahara and the Mediterranean illustrates the significance of Libya: a bridge between the Mediterranean and the vast African interior. Obviously the scale and value of trans-Saharan trade and contacts between the Mediterranean coast of Libya and sub-Saharan Africa increased after the Arab conquests. And Tripolitania under Roman rule appears to have been far more self-sufficient agriculturally, exporting to Rome a surplus. So, Tripoli after the Arab conquest, especially after the Banu Hilal migrations, became less successful in terms of its agrarian economy and increasingly reliant on its corsair activity in the Mediterranean as well as trans-Saharan slave trading. Even if this activity was parasitic, as suggested by Wright, it supports an assertion by Dewiere that Tripoli relied more on the trans-Saharan trade than Borno. Consequently, the trans-Saharan factor in Libyan history is a huge one that developed over time since the Garamantes of the Fezzan, a merging of Mediterranean and African networks that benefitted Libya.

However, most of Wright's book is actually on 20th century Libya. The decades-long Italian conquest, not truly accomplished until Fascist Italy completed the process in the 1930s, represents an interesting convergence of fascism and colonialism. Drawing on the past of the Roman Empire in Tripolitania, Mussolini's Italy actually invested far more in Libya than they took out it. Their vision of the "Fourth Shore" as a settler colony for peasant farmers of Italy was disrupted by World War II. Libya in the postwar years became a Sanussi kingdom which, through oil, became less dependent on aid or leasing military bases to Britain and the US. With the arrival of Gaddafi, an extremely long dictatorship would usher in various failed political, social and economic reforms with the use of oil revenue. Sanctions, tensions with the West, and failed pan-Arabism eventually led Gaddafi to a rapprochement with the Western powers before his ignominious fall. Throughout its rocky years as an independent state, Libya remained a nation in spite of the strong regional cleavages and other differences within its population. The Fezzan, Cyrenaica, and Tripolitania might as well have been separate nations. 

Intriguingly, Gaddafi's attempts to turn himself into a pan-Africanist hero and expand Libyan influence in sub-Saharan Africa represented a modern version of Libya's historic role as the crossroads of Africa and Europe. While undoubtedly opportunistic and a failure in the despot's war with Chad, it is remarkable that Gaddafi's African "turn" developed in a context where Libya was far less connected to sub-Saharan Africa than it once was. Over the course of the several millennia of known Libyan history, the link to Saharan and sub-Saharan Africa has always been a factor whose magnitude has varied across time. One region of modern Libya, the Fezzan, may been seen as "Sudanic" during some phases in its history. In that regard, the history of this North African nation is indicative of how closely entwined the worlds of Africa and Europe have been since the Roman Empire, even if its legacy has not always been for the best.

The Sun Kings and the Central Sudan

Reyna's Wars without End: The Political Economy of a Precolonial African State is one of the few serious studies on the kingdom of Bagirmi accessible online. While mostly based on the 19th century and applying structural Marxist theoretical models to understanding the the Bagirmi state, Reyna proposes some interesting and plausible ideas on this kingdom as an example of predatory accumulation. In some respects, the analysis of Bagirmi's institutions and the role of war can be seen in Kanem-Borno, Wadai and Darfur. All these states seem to be influenced by similar ecological and demographic profiles with some common or shared influences from Kanem's formation sometime in the late first millennium of our era. In other words, the importance of labor in agrarian societies with low productivity shaped by a challenging environment (unpredictable rainfall levels in Bagirmi, for example, or the desiccation of Kanem after 1200), and a household state structure meant that these kingdoms or empires required a system of tribute, taxation and booty through raids to support an elite class of office holders and royal court. 

Family life presents one obvious case of parallels and similarities between Bagirmi and Borno. The domestic mode of production in Bagirmi bears a resemblance to that of Borno in that agriculture was carried out by patrilineal or patrifocal extended kin who, in theory, followed the directives of a male head of the unit. Juniors in this extended family unit were expected to show deference to their superiors until they married and became "successful" by having many children and starting their own unit. This brings to mind Cohen's conclusions on Kanuri family structure and the emphasis on respect or discipline-respect between patrons and clients. A successful Kanuri male would have had many wives, children, and dependents. Having dependents was a source of wealth since they produced the labor that could support his farm or other endeavors. A Kanuri, at least during the time of Cohen's fieldwork, might attach himself as a client to a wealthy or important Kanuri who could one day look out for his interests and assist him. Like the Barma officials of the royal court, government officials in Borno seem to have developed similar patron-client ties with their staff or court staff. Kanuri domestic life seems to have been similar, too, with the domestic mode of production of the village being mirrored by that of the state. 

For the officials of Bagirmi and Borno, more similarities can be found. In order to militarily arm and reward their followers or clients (perhaps clients is more accurate in the Kanuri case than that of the Barma), booty, especially slaves, were necessary to purchase imported horses, weapons, chainmail, or luxuries via trans-Saharan trade. This produced a cycle of contradictions in which the state relied on taxation of surplus crops cultivated by free farmers (with some slave villages in each of the aforementioned kingdoms) at low productivity. The constant raids and levying of tribute in order to supplement this for the ruling group (the mbangs of Bagirmi, mais of Kanem-Borno, kolaks of Wadai) in turn created difficulties for states or acephalous societies in the tributary or predatory zones by harming their domestic mode of production that was often similarly of low productivity. 

Moreover, some of the societies in tributary or predatory zones of the main kingdoms developed into military powers of their own, creating additional tributary or predatory zones that could challenge the "imperial" states and extend the system of predatory accumulation deeper into areas inhabited by "pagans" or kirdi. Reyna does not speculate on this, but one wonders if the origins of Bagirmi and Wadai can be traced to an earlier past as victims of raids from Kanem-Borno before becoming tributary states who gradually asserted themselves into regional powers of the Chad Basin. The Central Sudanic state seems to have preferred to have tributary and predatory zones separating itself from other centralized kingdoms, but the systemic instability of predatory accumulation would have eventually led to the the emergence of other cores that threatened, say, Kanem and later on, Borno. 

The central role played by Kanem-Borno as a major model for Bagirmi and other states in the Chad Basin suggests Bagirmi's history is also one of the contradictory diffusion of a Kanuri model or civilization across much of the Chad Basin (and beyond). According to Reyna, 24 percent of the titles in Bagirmi's court were of Kanuri origin. Similar Kanuri influences can be found as far away as Darfur, Fezzan, and Hausaland. The Sayfawa state appears to have exerted its influence across a vast range of the Central Sudan in a manner that created tributary states which gradually incorporated or adapted aspects of Sayfawa administration. In turn, their states continued or developed a similar state that relied on war and predatory accumulation which, after several centuries, eroded Sayfawa dominance of the Chad Basin. However, because the Kanem state was the origin of the model, even states which had long evaded Sayfawa suzerainty may have found it advantageous to associate with the past regional hegemon whose rulers enjoyed the most ancient association with Islam. This might account for local perception of Borno as the dominant power in the Central Sudan even after its decline in the 18th century. Even tiny Mandara could defeat Borno in 1781, yet others described it as the greatest or most powerful kingdom in the Sudan.

However, knowing that part of Borno's economy was built on the trade in salt, textiles, and its privileged position in trans-Saharan trade links to the Fezzan and Tripoli, one cannot help but wonder if the Sayfawa state did deviate from the predatory accumulation model seen in Bagirmi. According to Dewiere, for instance, Borno did not necessarily procure most of its slave exports from raids carried out by Bornoans. Instead, Borno became a depot for the slave exports of Bagirmi in the 18th century (and probably far earlier). Borno's functioning as a depot and its once dominant position in the movement of salt and textiles must have favored market growth and a prosperous merchant class. While they appear to have not invested in production, we would not be surprised if slave villages were more prominent in Borno than in Bagirmi. Furthermore, Borno faced Hausaland to the west, and was therefore tapped into a vast commercial network that moved kola nuts, salt, leather products, horses, and textiles and even gold. Before the Sokoto Caliphate's rise, Borno appears to have been the economic center of this vast network which must have encouraged some investments in production, market growth, and capital accumulation. Indeed, we know from Heinrich Barth that Kanuri or Bornoan migrants played a pivotal role in Bagirmi's 19th century textile industry. Perhaps Borno was able to deviate from predatory accumulation just before the shocks of the jihad of the early 19th century forever reoriented the Central Sudan. 

Medieval Nubia

A very enlightening talk on medieval Nubia by Ruffini has been something we are revisiting this week. Although our primary interest is in Kanem-Borno, it has been rewarding to consider larger "Sudanic Africa" and some of the possible connections among the various peoples and historical states or kingdoms in the precolonial era.