Deciphering Meroitic

Enjoying this lecture by Claude Rilly on the Meroitic language. While we don't agree with all of his theories and conclusions, we certainly hope scholars are on track to finally understand this ancient African language.

On the Sultans of Waday

Marie-Jose Tubiana's "Un document inédit sur les sultans du Wadday" is a useful article for anyone interested in the history of Waday. Consisting of 2 similar documents attributed to a Usman ibn Fodde or Uthman ibn Fodda, the translated source is a chronological list of the sultans of Waday. In addition to collating 2 versions of this source, one of which came from the sultan of Waday, Tubiana uses other sources to corroborate and comment on the list. Like the Diwan of Kanem-Borno, it's basically a list of the sultans with a few sentences describing what the said ruler accomplished or experienced during his reign. In addition, there is some confusion in the source as it incorrectly places Sabun into an earlier chronological moment in the history of Waday. 

Despite some of the obvious problems of the source, it's chronology seems to be generally accurate. Like, perhaps, the Diwan of Kanem-Borno, there may be some mystical value to certain numbers attached to reign lengths (66, for instance, was special in this source) and the earlier kings appear to have existed in a more "mythical" context. Sadly, what actually transpired between Abd el-Karim and the Tundjur kings who ruled previously is not entirely clear. One is still unsure about Abd el-Karim's connection to Bidderi in Bagirmi, too. All one can say is that Abd el-Karim probably reigned sometime in the first half of the 17th century and he was a propagator of the Islamic faith. Subsequent rulers are also mentioned but it is mainly only beginning with Sabun in the early 19th century are the events of Waday's political history better known. The wealth of sources for the 19th century allows for more corroboration and detail on the kings of Wadai, while the events of the years prior to Sabun can only be glimpsed with occasional references to the Tunjur, Darfur or the larger Central Sudan. Indeed, even the origins of Abd el-Karim are unclear as some source ssuggest roots in the modern-day Sudan while other traditions, such as those reported by Barth and Nachtigal, suggest some kind of connection to the Islamic settlement of Bidderi and a Muslim movement against the pagan Tunjur. 

Interestingly, some later research suggests some degree of Islamic observance among the Tunjur. In fact, the Tunjur rulers were remembered by Arab names, including the final one, a Dawud, who was overthrown or replaced by Abd el-Karim. In addition, O'Fahey cited evidence of a Tunjur king from the region of Darfur and Wadai who was reported in Muslim sources. To what degree Abd el-Karim was the first Muslim ruler in what became Waday is difficult to say, but the realities of Tunjur, Kanem, and Bornoan influences in the region suggest Islam may have had some influence in Waday before the 17th century. Later Borno influences and conflict with Borno, Darfur, Bagirmi, Rabeh, the Mahdists in Sudan, and, finally, the French, continued to shape Waday's sultans while a number of contenders, dignitaries, and rival claimants for the throne frequently clashed. Furthermore, some Waday rulers clashed with their own dignitaries who resisted kings who became too powerful. This frequent instability and conflict over power helps explain why Waday could occasionally rise to a hegemonic status in the Central Sudan but very quickly, within a reign or two, suffer severe declines, population exoduses, plagues, and even do nothing while Rabeh ravaged tributary states like Dar Kuti, Dar Runga and Bagirmi.

Timbuktu's Patriciate

Elias Saad's Social History of Timbuktu: The Role of Muslim Scholars and Notables, 1400–1900 is an important study of the social tradition of the scholar-notable as a Timbuktu patriciate for about 500 years of urban history. This social tradition of scholar-notables helped define a recurring theme of autonomism in Timbuktu as scholars, through the judgeship and imamates, effectively administered the city through the long series of conquerors and states or empires that absorbed it. This rather unique position of Timbuktu and its renown as a center of Islamic learning makes it an interesting case study for understanding the Islamic city and its relationship with the Saharo-Sahelian and Sudanic contexts in which Timbuktu was intimately linked. 

Indeed, early Timbuktu, from the earliest chains of transmission still extant, was heavily indebted to southern Soninke and Malinke locations for its early Islamic scholars. Timbuktu's position as a site of prominence for Islamic scholarship in the Saharan, Sahelian and Sudanic regions was also based on the wealthiest families of different ethnic origins found the city to be a site where the pursuit of the acquisition of Islamic learning (especially jurisprudential learning) served an integrative function. This allowed Sanhaja, Arab, Soninke, Malinke, Songhai, Fulani, and others to come together in Timbuktu's early origins as a trading center. While not the only city in the Western Sudan to have an origin in a multiethnic trading center, in Timbuktu the goal of wealthy families, tailors, some craftsmen, and others to acquire literacy and gain the reputation of learned status, plus the ability of the wealthier families to produce renowned scholars, established Timbuktu as the city par excellence with scholar-notables as a patriciate. 

Saad seems to think the 'patriciate' of Timbuktu was defined by Islamic scholarship and the development of a social tradition that favored Timbuktu's autonomy throughout most of the period from c.1400-1900. While the Mali, Mossi, Magsharen Tuareg, Songhai, Ruma (Moroccan invasion force that integrated into society rather quickly), Kel Tadmekkat Tuareg, Kunta, and jihadist Hamdullahi states all claimed suzerainty over Timbuktu at various times in this 500 year period, the scholar-notables always dominated the city (at least in religio-legal spheres) and through the judgeship and the imamates of the main mosques actually administered the town. This appears to have been the case under Malian, Songhai and Ruma rule, attesting the longevity of this social tradition. One could conquer Timbuktu, but in the end the conquerors or invaders were integrated or accepted in some form or another this arrangement. One is not sure if any other city in the Western Sudan could be said to have encompassed a similar social history of a patriciate based on the scholars.

Civil War and Transition in the Kingdom of Kongo

After a brief attempt of reading it 12 years ago, we finally went back and finished The Kingdom of Kongo: Civil War and Transition 1641-1718 by John K. Thornton. A short study based on his thesis, Thornton endeavors to elucidate a process of historical change in an African polity. Since the Kongo kingdom before the 2nd half of the 17th century was a centralized, town-centered polity in which Mbanza Kongo dominated a large territory, one must understand what led it to become a fragmented, decentralized state with a village-centered economy. Thornton, differing from other scholars, does not see the Portuguese in Angola as a primary or major factor at all in this development. Instead, the origin of the process was in the ability of Nsoyo to rise to prominence as a competing (and independent mbanza) which destabilized a centralized polity based on Mbanza Kongo. 

However, in order to understand exactly what transpired in Kongo from the reign of Garcia II to 1718, one must comprehend how the Kongo state operated before the civil wars of the post-Mbwila years. Thornton's thesis relies on an understanding of Kongo society, administration, economy and religion mainly drawn written sources. The changes in Kongo oral traditions already apparent in the 18th century, and those of the 20th century, reflect changes that may mislead researchers who rely too heavily on modern ethnographies or oral traditions to reconstruct the earlier past of Kongo. So, with that perspective and drawing on textual sources, Thornton develops a model of Kongo state and society. It was a society of nobility and powerful kings based in Mbanza Kongo, with the latter appointing provincial nobility to administer provinces that yielded taxes. The nobility and ruler, however, did not control production in the villages. Instead, peasant producers retained control of production and simply paid taxes to the state (and the kitomi and nkuluntu. In the mbanza, or towns, which were really overgrown villages, the aristocracy were able to control production through the use of slave labor. By concentrating large numbers of people in the mbanza and controlling production through the exploitation of slaves (who, were more akin to European serfs), the nobility were able to accumulate much larger surpluses than what the villages could provide. 

One mbanza, the royal capital, far surpassed all others and the dream of the Kongo nobility was to find a position in the capital where access to luxury goods and control of greater surpluses was possible. With the exception of Nsoyo, no other town in Kongo rivaled the capital. The Kongo order that was perhaps at its height during the reign of Garcia II, was able to thus impose a system that brought in revenue from taxes on villages and used the royal court to appoint, remove, and circulate nobility in various provinces. The nobility wanted to be in Mbanza Kongo and Kongo kings could use this central economic role of Mbanza Kongo to reward loyal and faithful dependents. The royal household and the nobility functioned as houses, comparable to those of medieval Europe. Competition within houses for the throne or for access to the spoils of power did, inevitably, occur. But the centralizing status and nature of Kongo as the economic, social and political capital ensured that even rivals to the throne or competitors wanted to be in Mbanza Kongo instead of eking an existence in the countryside with meager surplus or despoiled peasants.

In a sense, Hilton and Thornton have similar perspectives on how the decline of Mbanza Kongo and a centralized Kongo was related to economic concerns. It was not so much the Portuguese victory in 1665 that finally caused the decline of Kongo. Instead, it was the closer, internal threat represented by Nsoyo, an autonomous province with its own economically important mbanza and access to Atlantic trade, which revealed the changes on the horizon. Soon, after 1665, various contenders, often from the Kinlanzi and Kimpanzu houses, fought for decades for control of Mbanza Kongo. The capital was sacked during these civil wars and the nobility, dispersed into the rural provinces where chances for greater amounts of surplus to expropriate wealth were minimal, became permanently based in the rural areas and relied on the Kongo peasant producers (who retained control of production). While the civil wars created conditions in which some nobles could seize captives and sell them, or loot, none of the nobles were powerful enough to permanently seize Mbanza Kongo and restore a unified kingdom. Furthermore, Nsoyo interfered throughout the civil wars of the late 17th century, promoting rival claimants to the throne but never providing enough support for them to succeed. Indeed, a reunified Kongo would actually have posed a threat to Nsoyo, which preserved much of pre-civil war Kongo administrative structure and enjoyed prosperous trade links with the Dutch, Vili and others north of the Zaire. 

In the end, Kongo survived its period of civil wars to reemerge as a fragmented state by 1718. By this date, however, the king was a far weaker figure and the provincial nobility were mostly autonomous. Christianity remained important, especially for the nobility, and indeed religion played an important role in the later years of the civil wars during the Antonian movement. According to Thornton, Dona Beatriz's movement, which was popular and helped repopulate Mbanza Kongo, also sought to have her ritually install the next Kongo king, like the kitomi. Instead of some sort of anti-colonial movement, Dona Beatriz's movement wanted to restore a united Kongo while also demonstrating the ways in which Christianity had been so adapted and incorporated into Kongo cosmology. Ultimately, the Kongo that was restored in the 18th century was to forever lose the pattern of centralized authority with kings appointing nobility to provincial posts and with a large degree of control of production in mbanza based on slave labor.

Dahomey and Its Neighbors

Akinjogbin's Dahomey and Its Neighbors, 1708-1818 is one of the classic studies of the kingdom of Dahomey during a pivotal century in its development. Although Akinjogbin's Ebi theory of Yoruba and Aja polities appears to be untenable, or at least lacking sufficient evidence to be demonstrated fully, the rise of Dahomey as a major power in the Slave Coast region is certainly a topic worthy of analysis. Akinjogbin, who misleadingly presents early Dahomey and Agaja as opponents of the slave trade, or at least its destructive impact on Aja polities like Allada and Whydah in the 17th century, posits that Dahomey achieved an administrative revolution by replacing the Ebi theory for a more centralized, absolute monarchy in which the monarchy endeavored to control the slave trade. Indeed, Dahomey no longer resembled the Yoruba and Aja states of old and was better able to survive the 19th century than Oyo because of it.

However, in terms of economics, Dahomey became wedded to the slave trade and compromised the state's health. Factors in Europe, for instance, or the shifting interests of Oyo in terms of providing the supply of captives for export at Whydah, posed a number of problems for 18th century Dahomey kings. Oyo, under Abiodun, emphasizing Porto Novo as its primary port on the Atlantic, for example, contributed to the economic woes and depression of Dahomey. Dahomey was also not always effective at promoting Whydah as the major port on the Slave Coast. Competition from Badagry, Porto Novo and other ports, combined with the inability of Dahomey to defend Whydah from the old Whydah forces threatened the security of the port and its ability to attract Europeans. Dahomey was also, at least during the reign of Agaja's son, not effective at slave raiding. In short, Dahomey had to rely on Oyo to supply captives for export through Whydah and it had to rely on the vicissitudes of European and Atlantic World commerce and slaving. Some rulers, however, were progressive and thought of other ideas and practices, or even reviving agriculture to promote Dahomey's economy and end the long-lasting depression that began in the 1760s. By then, it was too late as the dependence on the slave trade remained the only option for Dahomey to retain access to Europe.

Despite the economic failings of 18th century Dahomey, Akinjogbin presents Aganja, Tegbesu, Kpengla, and Agonglo as visionary, progressive, rational and skilled leaders and administrators. Indeed, the survival of the Dahomey state during this century is impressive when one considers the weakness of the state militarily or its internal conflicts. In that sense, Oyo's overlordship may have paradoxically created the conditions for Dahomey to consolidate its administrative and economic basis after Agaja's rapid conquests of Allada and Whydah. Oyo and the Europeans on the coast could cause problems, but having Oyo provide some degree of security for its vassals and supplying slaves for export at Whydah, Dahomey's port, created favorable conditions for Dahomey to reestablish itself on a firm footing after 1740. To what extent Dahomey truly achieved a "revolution" can only be answered with deeper knowedge of Allada, Whydah, and Oyo as states.

Song for Ogun

A lovely tribute to Ogun, our orisha, from the legendary John Coltrane. Coltrane appears to have based his arrangement of the song on a version harmonized by a Brazilian composer and sung by Bidu Sayão. One can also find a Cuban group performing the song in 1957 with what appears to be different lyrics in Lucumi (Yoruba). Ogun arrives, chief of Ire. I vaguely recall once finding a recording of the same song (or a variation of it) from Dahomey (modern Benin) but was unable to locate it. Fortunately, Yoruba speakers have sought to enlighten us with the actual meaning of the song in its Cuban incarnations. 

King Solomon's Mines

Although Haggard was far from a great novelist, his King Solomon's Mines was published at the perfect time. The recent Western re-discovery of the ancient zimbabwe stone structures in southern Africa with concurrent racialized imperialist fantasies during an era of burgeoning British imperial expansion in southern Africa created a climate favorable for a popular romance eager to read stories of adventure in an unknown African interior. Adding an imperialist layer with the background of Solomon's legendary mines and legends of an ancient "white" race that erected fabulous ruins in the dark heart of Africa must have appealed to some British readers, who could see in themselves the rightful successors to the light-skinned invaders who once conquered the native population. There's even a thin layer of historical references to the Portuguese past presence in the region (the old Dom) and the return of a "white" race represented by the Anglo-Saxon. 

Haggard, however, awkwardly combines his racist fantasy with an admiration of the Zulu people, the model for the Kukuanas who ruled the area of King Solomon's Mines. Due to his own penchant for racialist theories of gallant Viking or Dane warriors and the type of masculinist culture of honor and military valor they supposedly represented, Haggard, or his narrator, Quartermain, seem to view the Zulu as a great native "race" of noble savages. However, as a savage "black" population, they are destined to fall under benevolent British rule. And if you think Haggard would actually go as far as including a consummated relationship between a black woman, Foulata (whose name might be a reference to the Fulani people of West Africa), and a white man, Good, you will be disappointed. Instead, black and white are never to cross. The races are presumably immutable and black and white too different, despite the expressed admiration of Haggard's three white protagonists for the Kukuanas. 

In his own way, Haggard seems to want the Kukuanas to be left alone, but surely the Anglo-Saxon "race" will extend their control over the noble Kukuana peoples. Quartermain, Henry and Good convince Umbopa to end some of the barbaric superstitions and violent traditions of the Kukuanas, and despite the Kukuana king's promise to resist any white encroachment, we all know what transpired in Rhodesia and the rest of the African continent. Quartermain and friends represent an earlier stage in the colonial relationship, one that sought to restrict execution without trial and eradicate the witch-hunting rituals. But like their Zulu model, the Kukuana will surely fall under direct British rule. 

Despite it's flaws in structure and prose, the novel must have been one of the influences on Pauline Hopkins. Hopkins, drawing from the Ethiopianist Christian tradition and focused on ancient Meroe, obviously held a differing view on race. In her novel, Reuel, the light-skinned African-American, returns and becomes king of an ancient, lost state modeled on Meroe and Biblical allusions. Unlike Umbopa, Haggard's noble savage, Hopkins endeavored to craft fully-fleshed out character, not just stereotypes. Moreover, the Ethiopianist and racial vindicationist tradition Hopkins drew from made Telassar an advanced civilization, not like the Kukuanas who merely inherited the chainmail and infrastructure left behind by an ancient white race. For Hopkins, Meroe and the idea of a Nubian origin of civilization was meant to inspire African Americans. So, Hopkins borrowed from the lost world type of literature Haggard excelled in to write a novel that would uplift black Americans and encourage them to see something positive in their African origin. The two authors perhaps share an uncomfortable emphasis on racial identity as a driving force to which all must ultimately embrace or suffer the consequences, although Reuel is of mixed-race ancestry.