The Slave Coast

Robin Law's The Slave Coast of West Africa 1550–1750: The Impact of the Atlantic Slave Trade on an African Society offers a fascinating analysis of the Slave Coast during the era of a growing slave trade with Europe. Differing from scholars like Polanyi or Akinjogbin, Law focuses on the impact of the Trans-Atlantic Slave Trade as a stimulus to commercialization of the economy. The growth of European trade in the region appears to have fueled monetization and market forces through currencies (cowries), imported goods that reached local markets (not just elites or kings for redistribution), sources of iron and thread for smiths and weavers, foodstuffs trade (to provision slave ships), exports of textiles and akori beads for the Gold Coast, and the rise of mercenaries and soldiers for hire. While features of this commercial economy likely existed in the pre-Atlantic trade era, particularly the trade in salt from the coast or trade in textiles, beads, provisions, ivory, and slaves, the trade with Europeans fueled this process. 

In a sense, one could argue that the Atlantic trade did not hinder economic development of the Slave Coast. However, the unknown demographic impact and the necessity of violence to procure captives undoubtedly led to instability and conflict over access to European trade. This process, according to Law, favored the eventual emergence of a hinterland kingdom, Dahomey, as the dominant power due to its military ethos and ability to procure captives for the coastal ports. Dahomey, like Allada and Whydah, learned to combine a mixed position as middleman and supplier of captives yet ultimately failed to create a new kind of state or "revolution" in Slave Coast precolonial polities. Dahomey, despite some decline in the number of captives exported after the conquest of Whydah and Allada, eventually stabilized its exports and was certainly heavily influenced by the European trade. 

Indeed, besides being more autocratic and, eventually, integrating conquered peoples, Dahomey appears to have become rather similar to Allada and Whydah, the two earlier dominant states in the region. Allada, whose decline was already visible by the late 17th century, was once the paramount power in the region (despite also once being under the overlordship of Benin and Oyo). Like the future Dahomey, at least the Dahomey of Tegbesu, Allada and Whydah were ruled by kings who practiced some degree of ritual seclusion, patronized specific cults that were public festivals, engaged in trade with Europe, and competed with each other and subordinate coastal ports and regions for a share in the market of slaves. Women, unlike men, were favored for local slavery while occasional trade wars between Allada and Whydah destabilized both. The western Slave Coast was also impacted by Gold Coast refugees, mercenaries, and bandits who became an additional source of instability and conflict over control of the Slave Coast's lucrative trade. In fact, Dahomey inherited this as post-conquest Whydah rulers fled west for refuge and a branch of the Allada ruling family emerged in Porto Novo. The eastern portion of the Slave Coast increased in importance for the trade with Europe via towns like Badagry while Dahomey's rulers struggled to consolidate their hold over Allada and Whydah. Over time, the Dahomey kingdom seems to have created a provincial administration and endeavored to combine royal control and private share in the slave trade with a supplier and middleman role. 

Ultimately, despite acting as a stimulus to commercialization and economic exchange, the the Trans-Atlantic Slave Trade's legacy in the Slave Coast appears to have created disastrous demographic impacts and a reliance on violence in one form or another to continue. Dahomey's catastrophic depopulation of Whydah, for instance, plus the raiding of various inland communities, must have, at best, neutralized the economic stimulation from trade with Europe. Nonetheless, history of Allada, Whydah and Dahomey during these pivotal centuries illustrates how the trans-Atlantic economic networks were deeply linked to interior African polities, such as Oyo. Through these links to Oyo and the Malais or Muslim traders active on the Slave Coast by the early 1700s, one can connect trans-Saharan, trans-Atlantic, and intra-West African trade networks that illustrate global connectivity. Through the trade of captives native to the Slave Coast, one can also detect their legacy in the Americas through religion, culture, and even, for a time, Allada textiles exported to Barbados. 

Wangara Chronicle

Although unfortunately too brief, a 17th century chronicle on the origins of Wangara Islamic scholars in 15th century Kano is a priceless document. Translated into English by Muhammad Al-Hajj, "A Seventeenth Century Chronicle On the Origins and Missionary Activities of the Wangarawa" corroborates some of the information in the famous Kano Chronicle. Based on the quality of paper and writing style of the manuscript, Al-Hajj believes the document was probably written down in the 1700s or perhaps earlier, in 1650/51 according to the colophon. That said, it contains information on Shaikh Zagaite and Wangara traders influencing Muhammad Rumfa from a period of perhaps 150 years earlier than that of its author. Thus, the chronicle likely relies on a mix of oral traditions and some documents to trace the genealogy of descendants of Zagaite. Its earlier section on the migration of Zagaite from Wangara (near Maqzara, or what was sometimes called Takrur) through Mali, Gobir, Azben, Katsina and Kano seems to draw from oral traditions that sought to explain the presence of Wangara in various parts of West Africa. This illustrates the wider diasporic network of Wangara traders and Muslim teachers who undoubtedly played a critical role in the Islamization of Kano, Katsina and other parts of West Africa. This network must have brought Islamic influences into parts of the Hausaland just as Islamic influences from the east, via Borno, and Islamic influences from the north likely converged to a greater extent in the 14th and 15th centuries.

Besides providing a short explanation of Shaikh Zagaite's gradual migration to Kano, the chronicle also connects him to al-Maghili (Sidi Fari), a famous North African scholar who had influenced Askia Muhammad of Songhay and Muhammad Rumfa of Kano. According to this chronicle, both Zagaithe and al-Maghili were respected scholars who contributed to the spread of Islam. Indeed, a miraculous account reported here claims that Shaikh Zagaite's intercession was necessary for the Muslims to successfully cut down a sacred tree of the pagans. After Zagaite's intercession through prayer, a mosque was built on the grounds of the tree, another symbol of Islam's victory over pre-Islamic traditions in Kano. In addition, Zagaite was said to have surpassed an Egyptian visitor in terms of scholarship, suggesting that the critical study of al-Khalil in Kano began with Zagaite. According to Al-Hajj, however, the chronicler was actually incorrect so the anecdote was likely inserted or distorted to suggest a greater intellectual stature for Zagaite than an Egyptian. Regardless of this possibly distorted or fabricated anecdote, the chronicle places Zagaite on a similar level as al-Maghili in terms of influence and respect from Muhammad Rumfa. This suggests that Wangara Muslim scholars were perceived as similarly knowledgeable and reputable as North Africans in late 15th century Kano. 

Indeed, according to this chronicle, Zagaite and his sons were rewarded by Muhammad Rumfa with fiefs or lands. Zagaite actually wanted his progeny to carry on the tradition of learning and close relations with the rulers of Kano, too. Thus, the genealogical information recorded in the chronicle may have been motivated by a desire to combat discord and divisions among the descendants of Zagaite. Perhaps, over a 150 years or more, the extended family had been divided and conflict over royal patronage had become significant enough to warrant a short family history. Indeed, discord within kinship groups and disrespect for one's parents were repeatedly mentioned as sinful behavior. Thus, the primary purpose of this short text may have been to remind descendants of Zagaite of their common origin and restore some degree of harmony to a family divided by time and politics. Recalling an ancestor believed to possess baraka and to have performed miracles through the aid of God must have been a powerful way to assert this, even if readers in the 21st century obviously do not believe demons or devils sprung forth from the sacred tamarind tree or that Zagaite was able to lower the depth of the sea (Niger River?) when leaving Mali to perform the pilgrimage. Unfortunately, allusions to Borno were absent but allusions in the Diwan and Kano Chronicle indicate influences from Kanem-Borno in Kano by the late 14th century. 

Saharan Jews and al-Maghili

John Hunwick's short study of al-Maghili and the Jews of Tamantit is a fascinating read. Although our interest in al-Maghili is mainly in his time and influence in Hausaland and Songhay, learning about other aspects of his Islamic scholarship and biases sheds furhter light on the full social and intellectual context of his era. Unfortunately for the Jews of Tamantit and those in Songhay, al-Maghili was able to rouse anger and resentment against them for having a synagogue, dressing like Muslims, and enjoying close ties to rulers. According to al-Maghili and other Islamic scholars, such behavior was a violation of the pact that protected dhimmis. Thus, the Jews of the Saharan oasis lost their synagogue and much of its population fled. Furthermore, through al-Maghili's influence on Askia Muhammad of Songhay, Jews were banished or prevented entry to Timbuktu. Although Jewish traders and residents appear to have been allowed back in Timbuktu by the late 18th century, such a move by Askia Muhammad indicates the degree to which he was influenced by al-Maghili's views. 

Moreover, it must have played a role in redirecting or perhaps even harming parts of the trans-Saharan trade routes that connected the Western Sudan and the Maghrib. Indeed, if Jews in North Africa and Saharan towns like Touat and Sijilmassa were important for financing and conducting trade across the desert, banning them from Timbuktu and attacking them in North Africa must have weakened. Hunwick, however, sees the tightening of restrictions and, basically, pogroms, against Jews in parts of North Africa as a result of growing economic pressure during an era of burgeoning European penetration of Africa. Jews, an increasing population due to expulsions from Spain may have become the scapegoats as Islamic scholars like al-Maghili sought to target them through religious policy. Such a theory is plausible, although one wonders if Jewish traders simply shifted their Sudan trade networks further east and west, perhaps to the benefit of regions like Fazzan, Borno, and parts of Hausaland. Despite al-Maghili's influence in late 15th century Kano, one does not hear of anti-Jewish harassment or policies. Indeed, even with hints of anti-Jewish prejudice in one of the Borno documents collected by H.R. Palmer, there never appears to have been an attempt by Borno rulers to target Jewish traders or prohibit their entry. 

Sonni Ali Ber in Myth and History

Adam Konare Ba's interesting study, Sonni Ali Ber, is perhaps somewhat outdated. Due to the extensive study of the epigraphic evidence and, increasingly, archaeological excavations at Gao and critical study of the Tarikh al-Fattash, Sonni Ali Ber may be guilty of perhaps overemphasizing the dichotomy of "traditional" Songhay "animism" versus Islam. That said, this remains an important work for its juxtaposition of the Songhay religious/mythical perspective on Sonni Ali with that of the portrait revealed of the man in the Timbuktu Chronicles, al-Maghili, and historical scholarship. By delving into the mythical and religious interpretations of Si Ali by those claiming descent from the great king, one can see aspects of the cultural, religious, and political values of "traditional" Songhay society that are obscured or ignored by some of the Islamic sources. Indeed, immersing the reader into the worldview and magical practices of the Sonianke shows just how strong pre-Islamic traditions and beliefs were in the foundation of the Songhay state. 

Sonni Ali, or Si Ali, became a larger than life figure through building an empire based on both his belief in Islam (not a strict or rigorous belief, however) and the political precepts of Songhay spirituality. Indeed, in the latter worldview, the king was the first priest whose position entailed intermediary roles between his subjects and the divinities and spirits. As such, Sonni Ali could not accept the supremacy of the Timbuktu ulama in matters of religion. Like all builders of strong states, he sought to subjugate the clergy (or religion) to the authority of the king. It also happened to be the political order most legitimate and favored by the Songhay masses, too, since Ali was raised in this "animistic" religion. However, like all progressives, Ali sought new ideas and practices in Islam and other cultures. His syncretistic Islam, for instance, did not reject Islamic occultist science or all Islamic scholars. Thus, Sonni Ali was able to fulfill the expected roles of a political leader according to Songhay beliefs and practices while not rejecting new ideas or concepts. 

The portrayal of him in Muslim sources often reflected either the biases of Askia Muhammad (al-Maghili) or the descendants of people who suffered from Si Ali's quarrels with Timbuktu scholars (the author of the Tarikh al-Sudan). Keeping that in mind, and drawing on references from ethnographic work among modern Songhay who claim descent from the Si dynasty, one reaches a more nuanced view of Sonni Ali. Instead of being a Kharijite or pagan, the reality was more complex in terms of the ruler's personal beliefs and practices. Furthermore, his conflict with the Timbuktu ulama and the Fulani was similarly complex. Instead of reducing the king to a cruel tyrant and even a racist, he was actually laying the foundations for the Songhay Empire that would become even grander under the subsequent Askia dynasty. Some of the Fulani, Timbuktu scholars, Mossi, and Tuareg who were obstacles to his vision of a state that dominated the Middle Niger and protected trans-Saharan trade required strong state actions to protect his subjects, reward followers and ensure a harmonious equilibrium between the people and the spirits (in accordance with Songhay religious precepts). By several measures, his state-building process was a success in that it allowed Songhay to dominate the region in the years of imperial Mali's decline.

Whether or not Si Ali really is the same personage as Zaberi, a holey spirit in Songhay religion, maybe up for debate. Similarly, we are still left in the dark about whether or not the Si or Sonni were actually descendants of the earlier Songhay dynasty. Much of this earlier history is shrouded in myth. And as explained by the author, Songhay myth often incorporated deified persons into familiar mythic personages instead of creating new divinities. The deeper antiquity of Songhay religious practices and the prominence of the Sorko in the early annals does suggest great antiquity for some of their practices. Similarities and parallels with the Hausa, Bariba, and even Yoruba through Shango (Dongo) suggest that "traditional" Songhay religion and magic is part of a plethora or related West African religious systems with deep roots. This pre-Islamic foundation of Songhay culture is still very much alive, and elements of its history can shed light on the history of the Songhay if used carefully. If one avoids the romanticizing perspective of Boubou Hama and others who sought to elevate Sonni Ali into a nationalist or even a pan-Africanist hero, one can see how the oral traditions and mystique associated with Sonni Ali in ethnographic studies can inform or complement our interpretations of the written sources. 

Kanem's Pre-Islamic Foundations

Although the extant source materials are far from ideal, it is possible to reconstruct the pre-Islamic foundations of early Kanem. As a major Central Sudanic state that was already in existence by the 9th century, when its religion was described as worship of kings, attempting to recover the "pagan" foundations of the state can shed light on its early origins. Indeed, as a state with strong links with clan names that appear among Teda, Daza, Kanembu and Kanuri peoples, the origins of Kanem seem to be significantly correlated with the non-Islamic, ancient roots of these related peoples. The Zaghawa and Bideyat, also part of this larger world of Central Saharan and Sahelian "black" nomads and semi-nomads, provide even further evidence of early Kanem's foundations, particularly in the relevance of the king in ceremonis tied to rain and agriculture.

Unfortunately, the medieval Arabic sources are light on details of pre-Islamic Kanem. Written off as pagans by al-Bakri and described as worshippers of their monarchs by al-Muhallabi, early Kanem's "paganism" did not interest Muslim visitors. However, when reading later ethnographies of the Zaghawa and their pre-Islamic rituals, one may begin to see what exactly al-Muhallabi and others were describing. To be specific, it is unlikely that the people of Kanem actually worshipped the mai or king (kireh, or kakireh). Instead, royal authority was tied to rituals reflecting a larger cosmovision or worldview. The ancestors and spirits needed to receive offerings (or, sadaga, Chappelle 87). Kingship among the Zaghawa studied by Tubiana or Kanem as described by al-Muhallabi was a position closely linked to indigenous religious practices. In early Kanem, the mai and the royal lineage were necessary in rituals that led to rain and bountifulness. Without their position as sacral rulers who could lead the necessary rituals and offerings, the people may face droughts, poor harvests, famine, and other turmoil. It is in this way that the subjects of the early mais of Kanem venerated their king, who was believed to be the source of life, death, illness or good health (Hopkins and Levtzion 171). 

Therefore, it is unlikely that the kings of Kanem itself were actually the object of worship. The sacral nature of their position and their appearance in rituals designed to communicate with spirits perhaps led to the view of the king as semidivine or associated with mystical and spiritual authority. By virtue of their special position and the political and ceremonial demands, the king must be separate from the commoners or rest of society. This led to more developed forms of ritual seclusion of the king and veneration of the royal lineage. Indeed, in Borno sacrifices were offered to ancestors and alms given while the king was ritually secluded (Bjorkelo 33). One can even detect echoes of this among the Islamic Sayfawa dynasty for centuries after al-Yaqubi and al-Muhallabi wrote of Kanem. Indeed, the interest of the Sayfawa mais in performing the pilgrimage and Islamic scholarship likely resonated with pre-Islamic beliefs of the mai's position being rooted in sacral patterns. For this reason, the kings of Kanem were often ritually secluded, endeavored to avoid be seen eating, and made appearances as specific festivals or public celebrations. Indeed, Borno natives enslaved in Saint Domingue reported to Descourtilz that the mai of Borno never left the palace and those who dared to look directly at him were executed (Descourtilz 146). Remarkably, al-Umari in the 14th century also reported on rare public appearances of the mais of Kanem, who only appeared during 2 festivals (Hopkins and Levtzion 260). Consequently, Islam may have not represented so much of a rupture to this process as it could have been incorporated into "traditional" patterns of kingship established in ancient Kanem.

In addition to the ritual seclusion of kings in Kanem (and Borno under the Sayfawa), the specific reverence attached to ancestors and remembering clan affiliations through maternal lines may have been an additional remnant of pre-Islamic Kanem. According to Abraham Rosman's analysis of Kanuri social structure, clans were once very significant in the history of the Kanuri people. Kanuri were divided into jili with distinctive facial scars. Each jili had a common ancestor and a head appointed by the mai to collect taxes (Rosman 93). This system of clans and clan sub-groups, organized patrilineally but also emphasizing the maternal clan, may have been important to the ancestors of the Kanuri if they did not marry within the same clan If early clans among the ancestors of the Kanuri were similar to those observed among the Tubu and Zaghawa, then clan founders would have been of great importance for ancestral veneration. Specific clan taboos, areas for offerings, and even animals associated with the clan founder could have been major concerns in early Kanem (Chapelle 362). The mai, or head of the senior lineage and clan group, would have been at the zenith of clan leaders whose marriage alliances with other clans brought some degree of centralization and common investment from each one. The spread of these clans into Kanem, Borno and even other areas like the Tibetsi and Kawar, must have, even if fabricated in some cases, brought a degree of unity and shared belief in a shared origin defined by similar ceremonial offerings to ancestors. Women and the clan of the queen mothers of Kanem must have been important for this reason, or at least important enough to be recalled by the later editors of the Diwan for the early centuries of Kanem.

An instance of the significance of ancestral veneration and sacrifice can be found in Idris b. Ali's campaigns in Kanem. While campaigning against the Bulala,  Idris b. Ali stopped to pray at the tombs of previous Sayfawa rulers near Njimi. Although the prayers Idris b. Ali recited for his ancestors were Islamic in nature, ethnographic work on the Teda and Daza also include special reverence tied to the graves of ancestors. In addition, Idris b. Ali then gave alms and cattle after the Quran was recited at his ancestors' graves in Njimi. Through commemorating and making offerings to ancestors, one also asks for their intercession. The past rulers of the Sayfawa dynasty and the specific clans of their maternal ancestors points to the possible role of clan intermarriage with forging alliances among the various Teda, Daza, Zaghawa, Kanembu, and Kanuri groups who comprised the population of Kanem. Each clan would have been linked to ruling dynasty through intermarriage, rituals, taboos and ceremonies that brought them to the royal court and created bonds through offerings. Manan, the "pagan" capital of Kanem, possibly featured a stream, grotto, or spiritually significant place for offerings. It is likely that a form of divination ceremony took place at caves, the kurkuri of the Daju and Zaghawa mentioned by Palmer (in Bornu Sahara and Sudan 212). It is also possible that specific clans, such as the Tomagheras and others mentioned in the Diwan, may have had names derived from a wadi, or an animal believed to have assisted the clan founder. The clans could have identified their ancestor or founder with a mountain, tree, or even serpent (Tubiana 16). If so, there may have been specific clans associated with specific roles in rituals involving the king (Tubiana 45). 

The example of the rain ceremony among the Zaghawa, for instance, brought together members of various Zaghawa sub-groups and clans to a spiritually significant place for a ceremony that included the offering to a spirit and ritual feasting. A similar practice was also observed among the Keira sultans of Darfur and the rulers of Wadai, states which were also influenced by Kanem-Borno. Indeed, something similar was likely practiced in Borno, too. Muhammad Bello's letters with al-Kanemi accuses the Muslims of Borno of shirk, as they performed sacrifices at rivers and possibly even sacrificed a virgin in a river (Bello, 72). While these practices might reflect some of the pre-Islamic beliefs of Buduma, Marghi, Kotoko and "Sao peoples" who initially resisted the Sayfawa, they also resemble those practiced among the Teda, Daza, and Zaghawa. Thus, the alleged worship or sacrifices to idols in trees and rivers could have also been a remnant of Teda, Daza, and pre-Islamic Kanuri beliefs. Indeed, even if the improper practices written of by Muhammad Bello were exaggerated or perhaps a product of indigenous populations living near Borno who gradually adopted Islam, the continuity of ritual seclusion among the mais suggests a strong link to the pre-Islamic past. Yet it would be intriguing to study the words for God among the neighbors of the Kanuri to establish the origin of ramabe, a term which may have been the original Kanuri word for God (Koelle 275).  In light of these considerations, perhaps for reasons of ritual seclusion and sacred places more so than other factors, Idris b. Ali's mother had the brick mosque and palace at Gambaru constructed for his use. Njimi in Kanem, the capital after Manan, also used fired-brick for constructions that clearly designated the area of the mai as distinct.

Addressing the issue of the mune may further elucidate the matter at hand. The mune, often presented as a pagan relic that, once opened or destroyed by Dunama Dibalemi, led to dissolution and civil war among the Sayfawa (which certainly was common enough in 13th and 14th century Kanem as civil wars, assassinations, deposed mais, usurpers, and conflict with the Bulala and Sao indicate), presents a number of historical questions. Palmer, whose Sudanese Memoirs is an important yet problematic source on Borno, mentions the Zaghawa of Wadai referring to the Quran covered in skins as Mani. Moreover, the "pagan" Beli and Zaghawa allegedly believed mani was a ram stored in a cave. Even though one must use Palmer very carefully, the mune of Kanem was likely something derived from pre-Islamic beliefs yet redefined or adapted to fit Islam. Thus, Ahmad b. Furtu described the mune as something wrapped up and vital to the success of the Sayfawa. Indeed, our Bornoan chronicler compared it to the Ark of the Covenant. Thus, opening or destroying the mune was perceived by a 16th century Borno intellectual as un-Islamic. This is a testament to the degree to which pre-Islamic Kanem practices were capable of adaption to new religious and political paradigms. The mune, from pre-Islamic Kanem to the Muslims of the Sayfawa, was a talisman or highly charged spiritual object capable of reinterpretation through Islamic lens. According to Muhammad Yanbu, the mune was also carried into army and therefore associated with the military successes of the mais (Bobboyi 87).

Although there is inherent danger in relying too heavily on 20th century ethnographic studies of the Zaghawa and Tubu peoples, their ethnographic present likely illuminates aspects of early Kanem. After all, Islamization among the Tubu and Zaghawa is a late phenomenon, and they appear to have been closely linked to the major clans that contributed to the formation of Kanem. Thus, their practices of sadaga or offerings, veneration of ancestors, practice of clan totems and taboos, and belief in the centrality of the king in specific rituals tied to rain and agriculture are probable indicators of what early Kanem looked like. Thus, the early kings of Kanem were probably not objects of worship of their subjects. However, their position was closely linked to spiritual power or contact with ancestors and spirits that required offerings. Through ritual seclusion and the maintenance of specific ceremonies of rain-making or, in the case of Darfur, a festival in which the king physically engaged in a sowing festival, the kings of Kanem were the ritual center of the state. Marriages with other clans must have further cemented the unification around an early polity as other clans would have contributed participants in important state ceremonies. Early Kanem's conversion to Islam was not necessarily seen as disruptive to this "traditional" order as Islam and its message of a universal God could have been used to buttress the belief in the king's sacral powers. Thus, the mais could have continued to venerate ancestors, maintain some of the pre-Islamic customs, and incorporate Islamic scholarship and pilgrimage into their toolbelt of spiritual (and supernatural) power. Even after conversion and despite the resistance of some Tubu and Zaghawa to Islam, the maintenance of clan identities and traditions, remembered through oral history, written genealogies and chronicles, must have contributed to some degree of common identity and investment in the Sayfawa state from its core.

Works Consulted

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.

Bjørkelo AJ. State and Society in Three Central Sudanic Kingdoms Kanem-Bornu Bagirmi and Wadai. Bergen: Universitetet i Bergen; 1976.

Bobboyi, Hamidu. The'Ulama of Borno: A study of the relations between scholars and state under the Sayfawa, 1470-1808. Northwestern University, 1992.

Chapelle, Jean. Nomades noirs du Sahara. Paris: Plon, 1958.

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

Descourtilz, M. E. (Michel Etienne) 1809. Voyages d’un naturaliste. Paris: Dufart, père.

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

Galaty, John G., and Pierre Bonte. Herders, Warriors, and Traders: Pastoralism in Africa. Boulder: Westview Press, 1991.

Hopkins, J. F. P., and Nehemia Levtzion. Corpus of Early Arabic Sources for West African History. 1st Markus Weiner Publishers ed. Princeton [N.J.]: Markus Wiener Publishers, 2000.

Ibn Furṭū, Aḥmad, and Dierk Lange. A Sudanic Chronicle: The Borno Expeditions of Idrīs Alauma (1564-1576) According to the Account of Aḥmad B. Furṭū : Arabic Text, English Translation, Commentary and Geographical Gazetteer. Stuttgart: F. Steiner, 1987.

Koelle, S. W. (Sigismund Wilhelm). African Native Literature, or Proverbs, Tales, Fables, & Historical Fragments in the Kanuri or Bornu Language. To Which Are Added a Translation of the Above and a Kanuri-English Vocabulary. London: Church Missionary House, 1854.

Lange, Dierk. Le Dīwān Des Sultans Du (Kānem-)Bornū: Chronologie Et Histoire D'un Royaume Africain (de La Fin Du Xe Siècle Jusqu'à 1808). Wiesbaden: F. Steiner, 1977.

Magnavita, Carlos, Zakinet Dangbet and Tchago Bouimon, « The Lake Chad region as a crossroads: an archaeological and oral historical research project on early Kanem-Borno and its intra-African connections », Afrique : Archéologie & Arts, 15 | 2019, 97-110.

Palmer, H. R. (Herbert Richmond). The Bornu Sahara and Sudan. Nigeria. J. Murray, 1936.

------. Sudanese Memoirs: Being Mainly Translations of a Number of Arabic Manuscripts Relating to the Central and Western Sudan. 1st ed., new impression. London: Cass, 1967.

Redhouse, J. W. “Translation from the Original Arabic of a History or Journal of the Events Which Occurred during Seven Expeditions in the Land of Kānim, against the Tribes of Bulala, &c., by the Sultan of Burnu, Idris the Pilgrim, Son of ’Ali; Preceded by Some Details of the Sultan’s Ancestors.” Journal of the Royal Asiatic Society of Great Britain and Ireland 19 (1862): 43–123. http://www.jstor.org/stable/25228715.

Rosman, Abraham. Social Structure and Acculturation Among the Kanuri of Northern Nigeria  / by Abraham Rosman. Yale University, 1966.

Tério, Abdelkérim Souleyman, Origine Et Evolution Des Zaghawa: Du Royaume Du Kanem Aux Etats Modernes (VIIIe-XXIe Siècle). N'Djaména, Tchad :Éditions SAO, 2014.

Trimingham, J. Spencer. A History of Islam in West Africa. London: Published for the University of Glasgow by the Oxford U.P

Tubiana, Marie José. Survivances Préislamiques En Pays Zaghawa. Paris: Institut d'ethnologie, 1964.

Unesco. International Scientific Committee for the Drafting of a General History of Africa. General History of Africa. London : Berkeley: Heinemann Educational Books; University of California Press, 1981.

Yusuf, Salahudeen., and Muḥammad Bello. A History of Islam, Scholarship and Revivalism in Western Sudan, Being an Annotated Translation with Introduction of Infaqul-Maisur Fi Tarikh Bilad Al-Tukur of Sultan Muhammad Bello Bin Fodio  Zaria: Tamaza, 2013.

Soninke Religion and Ghana

Although there is a great danger blindly using oral traditions and modern ethnographic analogies to understand different societies from the distant past, a reappraisal of Soninke oral traditions and the corpus of external Arabic sources supports doing so. Islam has spread among Soninke people for 1000 years, but a cursory examination of Mandinka, Bambara and similar religious traditions can inform our understanding of Ghana. In so doing, the polity's pre-Islamic roots become clearer and aspects of its social, political and economic life can be unveiled. External sources like al-Bakri, despite being of great use, suffer from not personally traveling to Ghana or letting their religious and ethnocentric biases obscure the realities of other societies. Thus, in order to delve deep into Soninke origins, we shall begin with the oral traditions as recorded in Arabic  by Mamadi Aïssa (and translated into French by Maurice Delafosse) of Nioro.

The "Histoire de royaoume de Ouagadou" begins Traditions historiques et légendaires du Soudan occidental. Tracing the origins of the Soninke clans to Dinga, assuredly a mythical figure, this report of Soninke origins reflects Islamic influences. For instance, Dinga is said to come from the East and to have been a descendant of Job, Solomon, and David. Nonetheless, there are powerful indicators of the pre-Islamic Soninke worldview in the tale of his migrations. First, Dinga traveled in the company of 300 magicians, led by Karabara Diadiane, an ancestor of the Soudoro clan (Aissa, 6). This establishes right away that the mythical founder of the Soninke people was associated with magic, occult power or spiritual power. The tale of Dinga then shifts to his migrations, including a stop at a village named Dienne. Dinga takes a local wife but she fails to bear him a child after 27 years together. So, unsurprisingly, Dinga moves on to another place (Aissa, 7). The fact that his first was barren or failed to become pregnant after so long, which was a cause for divorce, highlights the central role of fertility and progeny in an agricultural society like that of the ancient Soninke. Dinga's search for a wife to bear him children is likely related to the migrations of the Soninke ancestors in search of water or fertile lands.

After leaving his first wife, Dinga married a woman in the village of Diagha. This wife bears him 3 sons, twins. One of the twins dies but the other two people ancestors of the Souare and Dyikine clans (Aissa, 7). Twins always have spiritual significance. The death of one of the triplets may have have been necessary for restoring a balance of two halves. Or, alternatively, perhaps the death of one of the twins was an ominous sign for the posterity of Dinga? Regardless, Dinga relocates from Diagha to Kingui, where he stops at Daraga. Dinga requests his followers, who must consist of his large body of magicians, retainers, dependents, sons, and slaves, to get water from a well. Unfortunately, a genie or jinn (or goblin, per Levtzion, 17) inhabiting the well prevents them from doing so. Dinga himself then confronts the jinn, but has to rely on aid from the leader of the magicians, Karabara Diadiane, to defeat the genie through sorcery (Aissa, 7). This episode indicates the importance of wells and sources of water for the life of a community. Dinga, as leader, endeavored to ensure a water supply from the well but was only able to succeed with the help of a powerful magician. Royal power, therefore, relied on the supernatural or occult powers and wisdom of ritual specialists and priests. Kings or chiefs could not ensure the survival of their dependents without their assistance.

After defeating the genie of the well, Dinga accepts its offer of marriage to his three daughters. These three daughters become the mothers of several sons (the origins of various Soninke clans are traced to them). The spirit or jinn in the well, a source of water or life, therefore becomes an ancestor of the Soninke through Dinga's numerous progeny. This may symbolize water as one of the four elements to the Soninke. One of the progeny of Dinga is, according to this version of the legend, the serpent or Bida himself (Aissa, 8). Thus, Bida, or the serpent, is related to the Soninke clans. The serpent may have become a totemic or powerful symbol in Soninke origins as it was a liminal animal inhabiting watery and dry spaces. Further, the snake's ability to shed its skin may have become an additional factor in its symbolic role associated with life, water, and rebirth. Indeed, the power of the snake "cult" among the Soninke was so strong that even 20th century Muslim Soninke avoided the taboo of killing or harming the bida snake (Bathily, 19). If this belief was true for the "Zafun" described in the Arabic sources, then the Soninke societies described by al-Bakri and others in the 11th and 12th century likely believed the snake was a powerful entity linked to fertility, rain, gold (which could be panned from rivers after rainfall), and, thus, worthy of sacrifice and perhaps consulted for oracular powers (Levtzion & Hopkins, 78). Similar beliefs about animals like the fox may have also been a factor in Soninke religion. According to Askia Muhammad, some of the self-proclaimed Muslims he freed actually believed in a fox cult and consulted shrines for idols or spirits (al-Maghili, 77). 

The other sons of Dinga are worth mentioning for their role in the establishment of Wagadu. According to the this version of the tale, the founder of the Sisse or Cisse clan was the son of Dinga through the second daughter of the well jinn (Aissa, 8). Maghan Diabe eventually occupies the center stage through his role in the foundation of Wagadu as a prosperous kingdom. According to the traditions, Dinga, old and blind, offers to give an older son the kingship (represented by a royal talisman) in exchange for roasted meat (Aissa, 10). Considering the role of hunters or hunting in the oral traditions surrounding Sundiata and other Mande cultures, perhaps this is an indication of the importance of hunters in society and rulership. First of all, Dinga, now blind, must step down or vacate the throne. His disability means his ability to conduct the community is compromised, especially if hunting and war were essential traits of kingship. What makes things even more interesting, and perhaps influenced by Biblical traditions, is Aissa's version making Maghan Diabe king through a ruse. Again, as in the case of Dinga's success against the spirit in the well, Maghan Diabe is only able to pull it off through the assistance of the sorcerer, Karabara Diadiane. Nevertheless, Maghan Diabe's seizure of power by providing his father with roasted meat before his older brother may indicate greater prowess as a hunter or warrior. Thus, despite being younger than his brother, he was the more skilled hunter/warrior who earned the authority of the ailing Dinga. The entire episode is suggestive of the great role priests or those in control of occult forces could have in the royal court as well as the ability to hunt. Moreover, by providing food or sustenance to his father, Maghan Diabe reverses the traditional father-son relationship and demonstrates respect for elders, even if he attempted to win the "royal chains" or talisman through trickery. 

However, Maghan Diabe's older brother still receives an important gift. Instead of the kingship, Dinga bestows upon him a talisman associated with control of rain (Aissa, 11). Consequently, a different branch of the royal family retained control of rain while the line of Maghan Diabe ruled Wagadu. This episode avoids fratricidal violence among brothers or clans of the Soninke while perhaps establishing a branch of the royal lineage as a line of ritual specialists or rainmakers at Kumbi. If an accurate portrayal of events, this suggests the kings of Wagadu were not directly associated with rainmaking but members of their family became a hereditary line of priests with that power. However, the fissioning of the Soninke into various clans might have been an impetus for more migrations. The next move was inspired by Diabe's consulting a diviner. The prophecy of this person predicts Diabe will become a great king and tells him to undertake another journey through the desert. The allusion to a diviner here may be a testament to the antiquity of geomancy or divination among the Soninke. This journey of the hero also presents new challenges and requires a crossing of the desert with 40 beasts of burden. By undertaking this quest through inhospitable land, Diabe may have been undergoing another ordeal that would lead him to the greener, wealthier pastures of Wagadu.

Diabe's quest through the land also included encounters with animals. In this case, hyenas and vultures enter the story. The leader of the hyenas cannot offer assistance to Diabe's group. An old vulture encountered afterwards, one that cannot fly, could direct them but requires something in exchange. After feeding the vulture all 40 of the animals in his group, it agrees to guide Diabe to the site of Kumbi (Aissa, 12). Since animals besides the snake or serpent do not speak or communicate with humans, the significance of the hyenas and vultures merits commentary. The hyena, as an animal that can laugh and is a dog-like scavenger, may have become a liminal creature in between human and animal society. The hyena's human-life laughs and dog-like features would have familiar to the Soninke, yet their scavenger lifestyle may have triggered disgust or disdain. The vulture, also a scavenger, may have been a liminal being through his ability to fly and its association with death or decay. However, after feeding it, its youth is restored and it guides the protagonist to Kumbi with his renewed flying ability. Perhaps the vulture's ability to fly and be more useful in a harsh climate represented an ability to traverse different worlds or cosmos to the Soninke.

After finally reaching Kumbi, another miraculous event occurs. At the site where the vultures leads them stands a tree. As Diabe orders the tree to be cut, a giant python or snake appears. In addition, a drum falls from the tree and 9,999 men appear, including 4 Soninke chiefs (Aissa, 13). This myth connects the tree or forest with the snake and a ritual drum, perhaps the same as the one identified by al-Bakri for the royal court. Historians have long known from al-Bakri that Ghana's royal capital included a sacred grove (Levtzion & Hopkins, 80). The tree, through its association with the snake (Bida), possibly became the area for the sacred grove associated with the pre-Islamic religion (al-Ghaba). But, Diabe had one more ordeal to undergo before fully establishing the kingdom of Wagadu at Kumbi. Four Soninke chiefs, including one ancestor of the Silla clan, could not agree on who should rule (Aissa, 13). After one proposes a test involving the drum that fell from the tree, only Diabe is able to fit his arm. This must be an allusion to the royal drums used in Ghana's royal court. Next, Diabe must form the proper relationship with the snake, or Bida. The two come to an agreement in which Diabe will provide one beautiful maiden to the snake in exchange for 20 days of golden rain. This ritual exchange was associated with a sacrificial or ritual fest in Kumbi (Aissa, 14). Undoubtedly, this is a reference to the panning and mining of gold in Wagadu. The snake's origins in the spirit of the well also signified fertility, water or life. By coming into a harmonious agreement with the snake, perhaps the Soninke traditions are suggesting Wagadu developed into a prosperous ecological balance with the spirits of nature. Through ritual offerings, sacrifices, and celebrations, the king and his ritual specialists must have been tasked with maintaining this balance. 

Unfortunately for the Cisse rulers of Wagadu, the agreement with Bida ended when an exceptional man, said to possess magical powers, chose to slay the serpent. After Diabe and his 4 brothers ruled in succession, the last, Kaya Magha, experienced the dissolution of the kingdom. Mamadi Sefe-Dokhote, kills the snake to protect the woman he loved from being given to the snake. Just as Siya is about to be given to the serpent in the ritual, Mamadi slays it by cutting off its head seven times (either through its ability to regenerate the body part or magic). By accomplishing this, Mamadi ensures the fall of Wagadu as no more rain or gold causes the dispersal of its people (Aissa, 17). The careful balance maintained through rituals and the political order defined by the ruling ideology was destroyed. The Soninke dispersed and Wagadu  is gone.

The next problem becomes one of making sense of Wagadu with the oral traditions and textual sources. The medieval kingdom or empire of Ghana was a Soninke state in which the Soninke royal title was identified by al-Bakri in the name of one king, Tunkamenin (Bathily, 13). However, the oral traditions of Wagadu are about far deeper origins of the Soninke people than the medieval kingdom of Ghana. Indeed, some of the clans identified in the traditions appear in the external Arabic sources of the Middle Ages as separate kingdoms or polities, not always loyal to Ghana. It seems likely that the Wagadu and Cisse dynasty identified in the oral traditions refer to a predecessor state to Ghana, or perhaps an earlier incarnation of the state that ended before the 9th  or 10th century. If the "Ghana" of the Arabic sources was a later offshoot of the Wagadu kingdom, then perhaps Ghana was just the most successful of the successor states. The other alternative could be the omission or loss of several names of kings leading up to Kaya Magha, so that the oral traditions telescope events and personages into a simplified chronology of only five kings of Wagadu before its dissolution. The breakup of Wagadu and formation of new Soninke polities would, over several centuries, have led to the loss of names for Wagadu's kings after losing the institutional framework of the royal court that likely sponsored the storage and dissemination of such information. The persistence of pagan practices among some Soninke, such as those of Gajaja, did not mean the preservation of this history (Bathily, 38).

Luckily, when one carefully examines the traditions of Wagadu, external Arabic sources, and the ethnographic evidence of related cultures, one can potentially reach deeper conclusions about the origins of the kingdom and how it operated. If Wagadu's name referred to the ruling clans who divided the territory into their spheres of influence, and the clan leaders were expected to report to the royal capital for an annual religious festival in honor of the serpent, one can begin to see how the state's ruling ideology used religion to buttress the king's authority (Aissa, 15). The traditional religion, however, would not have been enough to ensure loyalty as provincial leaders of ruling clans may have sought power or influence. Others likely formed marriage alliances with the tunka, perhaps contributing sons to serve in the court. Indeed, the capital could have shifted when different clans jostled for power (Bathily, 19). Religious practices specifically tied to localities or aspects of nature were also relevant to the ancient Soninke. According to Askia Muhammad's questions to al-Maghili, similar concerns were an issue for the Askia (Hunwick, 69). While Askia Muhammad may have been attempting to overemphasize the non-Islamic practices of Sunni Ali or the previous Songhay dynasty, the "worship" of rocks, trees, and idols was likely widespread across the Western Sudan. Specialists serving as intermediaries and others offering their services as soothsayers must have been a common site. Soninke religious specialists presumably held similar beliefs in their "idols" of trees and stones in the area of al-Ghaba.

Yet the snake cult and veneration of royal kings must have contributed to making Ghana's royal grove+s a powerful center for political, economic, and ritual purposes. Indeed, the capital of Ghana near the site of the snake cult may have been significant for royal succession, too, as al-Bakri indicates for the Zafun. Indeed, for the "Zafqu" of al-Bakri, the monstrous serpent lived in a cave in the desert. It received offerings of food, milk, drink, precious garments, and was called with formulas and whistling. The snake was involved with choosing the next king after the death of a ruler (Levtzion & Hopkins, 78). If, the identification of the "Zafqu" with the Zafun or Diafunu is credible, then al-Bakri's description may offer clues on the function of the serpent cult in Ghana. Of course, the Zafun were also sometimes described as nomadic people wearing the veil, perhaps a reference to Berber influences on part of the Soninke population (Levtzion & Hopkins, 170). If so, perhaps something akin to a solar cult was part of their religious practices, if al-Muhallabi's description of pre-Islamic Awdaghust Berbers is reliable (Levtzion & Hopkins, 168). Ghana's snake, however, may have been associated with the sacred groves and wells rather than a desert in the cave. The role of royal veneration or ancestor worship cannot be dismissed, either. For Ghana, al-Bakri describes "domed buildings and groves and thickets where the sorcerers of these people, men in charge of their religious cult, live" (Levtzion & Hopkins, 80). The tombs of kings were associated with idols and additionally featured an enormous dome with carpets, cushions, ornaments, weapons, food, drink, and the men who served his meals. Furthermore, al-Bakri describes sacrifices to the death and offerings of intoxicating drinks, suggesting kings and the deceased ancestors were appeased through rituals and honored. A later example from the Mossi states, cited in the Tarikh al-Sudan includes an instance of the Yatenga king consulting his ancestors through the traditional religion about possibly converting to Islam. Such a major decision, if it really was resolved through a ritual ceremony to consult ancestors, might offer clues to understanding how "traditional" religion in Ghana shaped political decisions (Hunwick, 106). Through ostentatious display of their wealth in imported textiles, luxuries, and elite tombs, the kings of Ghana likely sought to buttress their rule through ancestry and connections to the snake cult. Indeed, Ibn Hawqal also believed the wealthy of Ghana were buried with their slave girls, showing off their power through the large accumulation of dependents and slaves they possessed, who then presumably served him in the afterlife (Levtzion & Hopkins, 52).

Pre-Islamic Soninke religion also raises an interesting question about the status of women. What was the role of women in their religion and society? Even if al-Bakri's claim of matrilineal inheritance of the crown is questionable, certainly women were important in the "traditional" religion. A discovery of a female statue from Wagadu, currently located at a museum in Mauritania, emphasizes fertility. Soninke kings, through their association with the snake cult and fertility, presumably also valued women's fertility as the source of children. The symbolic associations of motherhood and trees could have been a factor here. Moreover, the association of women with divination and sorcery in other parts of the Western Sudan or Sahel might offer another avenue for exploration. For example, the Damdam kingdom mentioned by al-Bakri worshipped an idol in the form of a woman atop a fortress (Levtzion & Hopkins, 86). Such an idol, the site of pilgrimage for this Damdam people who lived near Gao, could be a female spirit or mother goddess figure. The example of  Kugha, a town known for its associations with Ghana through gift exchange, may be illustrative (Levtzion & Hopkins, 49). According to al-Idrisi, the women of Kugha were famous for their witchcraft (Levtzion & Hopkins, 112). Were women renowned for their control of occult forces also present in Wagadu? What was the status of women in the "traditional" religion of the Soninke? If sorcery and witchcraft accusations were allegedly common in 14th century Ghana and Mali, according to al-Umari, surely women were also active participants in the process (Levtzion & Hopkins, 265). Perceptions of sorcery and accusations of witchcraft may have also been one way to solve community discord through litigation before the king. Women certainly would have been involved in this in ways that are not detectable in our limited source materials. In addition, Islamic sources like al-Bakri may have assumed women were not in positions of authority, religious or otherwise. 

In summation, reading the traditions of Wagadu and focusing on the religious symbolism can pave the way forward for uncovering or emphasizing different aspects about the kingdom of Ghana. Although much will remain unknown or unverifiable, it is clear that pre-Islamic Soninke religion was foundational to the state. It shaped the royal court, its legitimacy, the development of ancestor veneration, and, almost certainly, the ways in which Islamic traditions and divination practices developed among Soninke, Mandinka and Bambara peoples. It has been proposed here that the Soninke religion possibly embraced the concept of fundamental elements, included ancestor worship, and perhaps incorporated animals as totemic figures in their view of ethnogenesis. Influences from across the Sahara, Sudan, and even the Mediterranean may have shaped Soninke beliefs. For instance, the worship of the Sun, attributed to pre-Islamic Berbers of Awdaghust, may have been an influence on the Zafun or Soninke near the desert. Religious and spiritual practices of Wagadu may have also been shaped by idol worship in Takrur, traditions of magic in Kugha, and Islamic systems of divination or belief. In fact, there were likely agricultural festivals and rites organized around a sacred calendar that may have been lunar or solar. Women may have possessed far more authority or spiritual power than our sources indicate, particularly in the domain of religion and, perhaps, possession. Like the Mallal king who converted to Islam after an Ibadi prayed for rain, it is likely that Islam was also spreading in Ghana among those who found it efficacious for reaching a goal. Moreover, Ghana or Soninke religion retained many aspects of the pre-Islamic past long after the decline and fall of Ghana. By highlighting its influence on the ancient kingdom of Wagadu, one can understand the indigenous roots of a complex Sudanic civilization that did not reject cosmopolitan influences. 

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Origine et évolution des Zaghawa and Kanem-Borno

Terio Abdelkerim's Origine et évolution des Zaghawa: Du royaume du Kanem aux Etats modernes (VIIIe-XXIe siècle) is a worthy effort to unveil the deeper history of the Zaghawa peoples and the kingdom of Kanem. Although we have reached rather different conclusions on the early history of Kanem and the relationship between the so-called Duguwa dynasty and the Sayfawa, Abdelkerim uses oral traditions and a familiarity with the history of Zaghawa or Beri clans across Chad and Sudan to illustrate the clear "Zaghawa" origin of the ruling clan of Kanem. However, as indicated by the Diwan and Kanuri, Kanembu, and Tubu traditions and clan names, the modern Zaghawa (Koubara, Wegui, Touba Koube as the three main groups with smaller clans and divisions) have ancient ties to the Teda, Daza, Kanembu and Kanuri groups. 

Indeed, if the Diwan is reliable on the mothers of various early mais, the ruling Zaghawa of Kanem intermarried with Tubu and Kanembu clans. Furthermore, as the Teda, Daza, and Zaghawa were mobile pastoralists, they also migrated back and forth through the Tibetsi, Ennedi, Borku, Kawar, Kanem, Borno, and other regions. The Zaghawa today, located on the frontier between Chad and Sudan, possibly migrated there in larger numbers after the so-called replacement of the Duguwa (Banu Duku) dynasty by the Sayfawa in the late 11th century. Or, alternatively, given the wide expanse of territory between Lake Chad and the Nile occupied by related Nilo-Saharan pastoralists, the "Zaghawa" of the medieval Arabic sources was actually a reference to the entire ensemble of black pastoralists in the central Sahara. This would probably explain why the "Zaghawa" were already known to Arabic sources as early as the beginning of the 8th century, since black Saharan populations west of Nubia and south of the Fazzan may have already formed the early state of Kanem to the south.

In addition, linguistics possibly supports a "Zaghawa" or Beri affinity for the early rulers of Kanem. According to al-Yaqubi, writing in 872, the kingdom of Kanem was "Zaghawa" and called Kakira. The Zaghawa language, however, retains the word kireh for emperor or kings, as indicated by Abdelkerim. We are thus inclined to view al-Yaqubi's brief account of 9th century Kanem as evidence of a Zaghawa ruling clan that must have been related to various Teda, Daza and proto-Kanembu groups through marriage. Indeed, genetics likely supports this scenario as population admixture studies of Chadian groups indicates mixing between a group of Eastern African origin with one of West-Central African origin around 1000 years ago. Of course, the Tubu of Chad also have significant Eurasian ancestry that reflects deeper histories of Eurasian backflow into this part of Africa. Nevertheless, this must have been the fusion of the Zaghawa, Teda, and Daza with sedentary populations already in Kanem and the Chad Basin. Their fusion would ultimately lead to the Kanembu and Kanuri populations. Perhaps the use of the term Beriberi by the Hausa to refer to the Kanuri is actually an allusion to the Zaghawa, or Beri, peoples?

Unfortunately, Abdelkerim believes the Zaghawa language is a Berber one and its population of Berber origins because of Ibn Khaldun and other medieval writers. Since some of them have classified the "Zaghawa" as Berbers or mentioned their use of the litham, many scholars have uncritically repeated this. However, the alleged Berber influence was probably restricted and more likely than not simply a case of Berbers in the Sahara and Sahel who were assimilated into Tubu and Zaghawa populations. After all, even al-Idrisi cited a similar case of this in the Sahara during the 12th century. The Nilo-Saharan language family of the Zaghawa and all the available evidence from the Diwan and Kanuri oral traditions supports an early ruling dynasty of Teda, Daza, and Zaghawa origin. Even the name Dugu or Duku, remembered as Douk Bourme in Zaghawa oral tradition, is a further testament to Zaghawa origins. Even if the name as remembered by the Zaghawa meant courageous young man with light skin, this does not require a Berber origin. "Red" and "black" clans among the Tubu, for instance, could be what the Diwan was referring to when they identified the first "black" mai as only appearing in the late 12th century. 

In consideration of the available evidence, one can justifiably question whether or not there really was a dynastic change from the Duguwa to the Sayfawa in the 11th century. Abdelkerim agrees with scholars such as Lange who see dynastic change because of the language of one copy of the Diwan or a few other sources. However, since the Diwan, Ahmad b. Furtu, and Kanuri oral traditions and Magumi sub-clan divisions support overall continuity from the Duguwa to the Sayfawa, one can plausibly reject the theory. Even if it is true that the Sayfawa embrace of Islam was resisted by some of the Zaghawa ruling elite in Kanem, who had to be replaced by Humme, one is still left in the dark about why the Magumi royal clan of the Sayfawa retained divisions claiming descent from pagan Duguwa mais? Moreover, why was the last Duguwa mai remembered as Abd Abd al-Galil, a very Arabic name? We are inclined to believe that some of the 11th century mais of Kanem may have already embraced Islam, perhaps the Ibadi sect which was active in the nearby Fazzan? 

After all, centuries of trade and contact with Ibadi traders and even Berber merchants in Kawar would have facilitated the spread of Islam by the 1000s. Perhaps the Sayfawa were really just a more devout, Sunni Muslim branch of the ruling elite who saw greater benefit through the full embrace of Sunni Islam. Whether or not this actually precipitated a mass exodus or dispersal of Zaghawa to the east is unknown, as Kanem may have exerted influence on "Zaghawa" and "Daju" in the Chadian-Sudan borderlands. As for Islam's impact on the ruling dynasty and possible anti-Muslim resistance, perhaps it is important to note the late and slight Islamization of various Tubu and other populations in Kanem and Borno. If the masses were, for the most part, left alone, and some pre-Islamic rituals like coronation rites or certain beliefs in the king's power to influence fertility of the land persisted, then the conversion to Islam could have been accomplished in a manner that did not necessarily trigger too much resistance. Perhaps something comparable to various coronation rituals and harvest festivals later observed for the Keira sultans of Darfur was practiced by the early Muslim mais of Kanem.

If the rulers of Kanem had already, by this time, been accustomed to wearing fine textiles imported from trans-Saharan trade and interacting with Muslims for centuries, it is possible that a Muslim faction was already present in the court at Manan. Like Ghana in the Western Sudan, perhaps there were local and foreign Muslims already incorporated into the administration by this time. If our admittedly speculative theory is correct, then Kanem before the reign of the first Sayfawa mai may have had Islamic rulers or at least prominent Muslim administrators, traders, and teachers. Perhaps, although our only evidence is al-Bakri, a branch of the Ummayads may have fled to Kanem. Like the later recorded history of the Sayfawa, maybe members of the royal family already converted and began their study of Islam through the help of pious teachers like Muhammad b. Mani. Muslim traders established in Kawar and the Fazzan would have been an additional vector for Islamic propagation that might have appealed to the rulers of Kanem. Embracing the religion officially would have increased the stature of the kingdom to many of its Muslim trading partners and perhaps offered way for a new branch of the ruling family to build alliances with powerful allies. 

In conclusion, the Duguwa and Sayfawa were really one single dynasty. The Zaghawa or Beri origins can be deduced from the external Arabic sources. The "Zaghawa" in the Arabic sources likely included various related populations like the Teda and Daza. Over time, the Zaghawa kingdom of Kanem, which may have arose as early as the 500s in Lange's view, became known through trans-Saharan trade. A growing Muslim presence in Kawar and Kanem itself would have created conditions propitious for an eventual royal conversion. Since many of the Tubu and Zaghawa groups were nomadic or semi-nomadic and likely not forced to convert, Kanem's Islamization did not necessarily create a Zaghawa exodus to the east. The evidence for dynastic continuity throughout the history of Kanem-Borno may be further deduced from Magumi clan divisions claiming descent from various pre-Sayfawa kings. The incorporation of various sedentary populations already established in Kanem when the Saharan forebears of the Duguwa/Sayfawa entered the region were gradually incorporated into the state to the point where even non-Kanembu groups claimed descent from pre-Islamic kings like Bulu. Amazingly, references to the Zaghawa role in the origins of Kanem may be recalled in the Hausa appellation of Beriberi for the Kanuri.