Katsina's Transformations

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

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

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

Darfur Sultanate

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oasis of Salt

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

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

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

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

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

Sultanate of Ayar

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

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

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

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

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

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

Kingdom of Allada

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

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

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

Les oasis du Kawar: une route, un pays

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

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

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

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

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

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

Contribution à l'histoire des populations de Sud-Est nigérien: le cas du Mangari (XVIe-XIXe s.)

Maikorema Zakari's important book builds on Landeroin and colonial-era scholarship as well as general histories of Borno in an endeavor to trace the history of northern and northwestern provinces of imperial Borno. Today part of southeastern Niger (Kazal, Mangari, Kutus, Munio) and peopled by Kanuriphone groups of diverse origins (Manga, Dagra, and others) as well as nomadic groups like the Koyam, Sougourti, and Tomagheras, these regions of the Bornoan Empire have probably been underpopulated and politically decentralized for most of their history, particularly due to the expansion of the desert, the lower levels of rainfall and nomadic incursions, especially by the Tuareg. Nonetheless, some of the area's residents like the Koyam, Sougourti, and Tomaghera, have strong links to early Kanem (through various queen mothers) and very well, despite some practicing a nomadic lifestyle, could have been present in Borno by the 1300s. The site of Garoumele as one of the possible Sayfawa capitals before Birni Gazargamo might be suggestive of the area's past importance for the ruling house of Borno.

Since northern Borno was perhaps one of the first areas incorporated into an expanding Kanem state by the 1200s, and probably one of the early bases of the Sayfawa dynasty after their flight to Borno in the 1380s, Zakari begins the story there. Unfortunately, besides some oral traditions and the general centuries-long migrations of Kanembu and other peoples from the eastern shores of Lake Chad, Zakari does not have too much to work with to piece together the ancient past of southeastern Niger. Relying on general histories and analyses of Kanem-Borno, particularly Lange, Palmer, Zeltner, Brenner, and a few other scholars, plus archaeological and oral history insights, the rest of the book focuses on the period from around 1500 to the fall of Rabih. The resurgence of Sayfawa power by the late 1400s under Ali Ghaji and the powerful mais of the 1500s established Borno as the dominant power in the Central Sudan, and the historical trends of the center of the empire help somewhat with Zakari's endeavor to make sense of the local history. Unfortunately, much of the oral traditions collected at various sites is not particularly useful for events before the 19th century and memories of the various local dynasties are often unclear on collateral succession and chronology. Nonetheless, Zakari's study is an important work for local histories or sub-regional histories of Borno, aiding the reader in piecing together how Borno's territorial expansion has marked areas outside the core.

Under the rule of various local chiefs or dynasties with little authority beyond their own village, the area, which should have been protected by the central authority of Borno to defend it from the Tuareg, was, as Zakari's study suggests, deliberately kept that way by the Sayfawa and al-Kanemi dynasties to better rule or tax its inhabitants. Indeed, the rulers of Borno appear to have appointed local lawan or village chiefs by receiving gifts from prospective candidates, who then taxed the population while not effectively protecting the inhabitants. This contexts helps explain why the emergence of a strong local authority to defend the populace from Tuareg or Tubu raiders never developed, and why the emergence of Zinder as a strong kingdom in the 19th century presented another threat from the west. This may also explain why the Sufi or mystical Islamic settlement of Kalumbardo was under incessant threats from the Tuareg and Tubu in the 17th century. Indeed, besides the Shehus of the Koyam and the 19th century Islamic presence under Koso of Munio, one does not find strong evidence of widespread Islamic practices or beliefs beyond a superficial level. Nor does one have a clear idea on the antiquity of salt and natron production in Mangari but one would think it was also important in pre-19th century eras. So, archaeologists and historians have a lot of work to do to help us understand the process of Kanurization and regional studies of Borno's imperial phase.