Sunday, October 31, 2021
Noah Howard's Ole
Thursday, October 28, 2021
Tarikh al-Fattash
Although so many questions remain pertaining to the authorship and interpolations in the Tarikh al-Fattash, one can see why it has become a priceless resource for understanding the history of the Songhay and the Niger Bend region. Attributed to Mahmud Kati and his grandson, with additional notes and references to a lost chronicle and family records, the text contains clear forgeries from the 19th century, predicting a future caliph of Masina. Nobili and other scholars have made a persuasive argument that what we know call the Tarikh al-Fattash was in fact an original 17th century chronicle by Ibn al-Mukhtar, and the 19th century forgery which drew upon the older text to promote a certain Ahmad of Masina. Apparently, other copies of the Tarikh al-Fattash have been located in the surviving libraries or collections of West African Arabic manuscripts, so future scholars may one day establish a clearer picture on the making of this particular chronicle. Unlike the other surviving Timbuktu chronicle, with a more clearly established author, part of the appeal and challenge of the Tarikh al-Fattash is endeavoring to make sense of its authorship and how it reflects a tradition of chronicles or "historical" writing in West Africa for centuries.
Unfortunately, however, we had to rely on the 1913 French translation of the text by Houdas and Delafosse. Despite its errors and dated footnotes to elucidate ambiguous passages or unclear translations, one felt it to be a more useful (and accessible) translation than the English version. Until a scholarly, annotated English translation of the chronicle is published, we shall have to rely on Houdas and Delafosse's translation. And, lest one be mistaken, the 1913 French translation is mostly serviceable. The incongruous mixing of authors makes for sometimes confusing reading, but the Tarikh al-Fattash provides a number of different oral traditions, slightly modified kingslists for the Zuwa and Sunni dynasties, and new data and references for everyone interested in the rise, decline and fall of the Songhay Askia dynasty.
As the product of a Muslim intellectual (possibly a real Mahmud Kati, or Ibn al-Mokhtar), it invariably promotes a certain narrative of Songhay political power, religious practice, and Islamic civilizational models the Askiya state, under Askia Muhammad I, epitomized. While also reporting new oral traditions of the early history of West Africa and the Songhay, what the Tarikh al-Fattash emphasizes in servile lineages, slavery (the 24 tribes owned by the kings of Mali, who were then seized by the Songhay and provided tribute), and caste actually reveals something of the larger world beyond the Niger Bend in which Songhay was inextricably linked. For instance, the origins of one caste lineage is somehow imagined to have begun with a former slave owned by Christians in the Atlantic, possibly an allusion to the trans-Atlantic slave trade. One finds intriguing claims of an ancient Jewish population in the area of Tendirma before its formal establishment by the Askiyas. This may have served the purpose of acknowledging the Jewish presence in West Africa or calling attention to the deeper antiquity of this part of West Africa. A similar tactic was possibly used in the Tarikh al-Sudan when al-Sa'di suggested ancient Kukiya was a source of sorcerers for the Pharaohs of Egypt. Undoubtedly, oral traditions and legends permeated both of the Timbuktu chronicles in question, such as the origins of the Zuwa dynasty of kings or the chronology used to describe the early history of Ghana (Wagadu) or even the rise of the Sunni dynasty in the character of Ali Kulun. A great episode, of course not factual, can be found in the tale of Mansa Musa's hajj, when his farba produces an artificial river in the middle of the desert for the mansa's wife.
For our purposes, if the Tarikh al-Fattash is reliable, then it is priceless for shedding more light on social structure and practices of power among the Askiya rulers. It may reflect a greater dependence on slaves in the post-Songhay imperial period, but it reveals how the Askiya was expected to be generous, redistribute wealth, and, in at least some cases, employ enslaved labor for agriculture. Thus, an Askiya is said to have given the original Mahmud Kati several gifts for his sons to marry, including land with slave laborers to make it productive. Another story of Askia Dawud's generosity mentions him freeing the entire family of an old enslaved woman, even though the woman had only asked that the Askia ensure her children and grandchildren not be separated when sold to new owners. This seems to reflect the fact that slave trading in Songhay lands did indeed separate families. But even better for this old woman and her family, Askia Dawud freed her entire family and had an official document signed in front of witnesses to attest to her family's freedom. Freeing slaves was a virtuous act, but making gifts out of them for various Islamic scholars, nobles, and subordinates was supposedly another aspect of Askia Dawud's virtue. It is in this context we learn that the population of Gao consisted of 7,626 houses, not counting straw huts, to display how no one living in the city had not benefited from the largesse of the Askia dynasty.
As for royal plantations (producing rice, it would seem), caste, artisans, and the poor, the Tarikh al-Fattash also reveals more than the Tarikh al-Sudan. The poor in Timbuktu and Gao supposedly received food directly from the Askia Dawud. In the first city, Dawud allegedly founded a plantation worked by 30 slaves to feed the poor. He also sent 4000 sunnu of grain to the qadi of Timbuktu to distribute for them. Intriguingly, to be a royal slave also conferred a degree of power, and could, in some cases (Missakoulah, the supervisor said to be from Baguirmi who oversaw a royal plantation and repeatedly gave away grain from it to the less fortunate) get away with independent actions and behavior (especially if their behavior in virtuous acts improved the status of their master). It is also in the Tarikh al-Fattash that references to the tailors of Timbuktu and artisans can be found. For instance, the Moroccan invading army included Arab shoemakers and artisans who sold their services after the pacification of the region. Supposedly, prior that, Timbuktu already had 26 establishments for tailors, the so-called tindi, which were run by a master who had, on average, around 50 apprentices. Some of the tailors were also scholars, such as a certain Boussa mentioned in the the chronicle. There must have been some kind of guild-like association for certain trades in towns like Timbuktu and Gao. Other artisan groups were treated as a caste, and expected to provide a tribute to the Askias (the blacksmiths, for example). Unfortunately, these chronicles, focused as they are on the Askias and scholars, do not tell us more about artisans, laborers, and farmers, and less about the use of enslaved labor in the salt mines or estates owned by non-Askiya. In the near future, a new translation of the Tarikh al-Fattash and critical study of it and other manuscripts may shed light on these questions, and the basis of Songhay royal power to the peasantry.
Friday, October 22, 2021
As I Crossed a Bridge of Dreams
Ivan Morris's translation of the Sarashina Nikki has rekindled our passion for Heian Japan. The author of this short "notebook" had a striking passion for tales or monogatari, including several lost ones. Her devotion to tales and living in the dreams of such narratives appeals to modern readers, who likewise lose themselves in literature, perhaps to the detriment of the "real world." While perhaps less witty than Sei Shonagon and with a biography less sympathetic than the author of the Kagero Nikki, we could not avoid liking Lady Sarashina as a sensitive, delicate person dedicated to literature while struggling with the "real world" of court life, religious devotion (of Buddhist and Shinto varieties), marriage, and family life. Sometimes we all just want to immerse ourselves in The Tale of Genji or other fictional works.
Thursday, October 21, 2021
Tarikh al-Sudan
Due to our recent readings of Redhouse's dated English translations of two chronicles by the imam Ahmad Ibn Furtu or Borno, we at the blog have decided to tackle Hunwick's translation of the chronicle Tarikh al-Sudan by Abd al-Rahman al-Sa'di. Unfortunately, Hunwick did not translate the entirety of the chronicle written by our Timbuktu author, skipping 2 chapters on Moroccan politics and later chapters on events after 1613, with the pasha administration and post-Songhay Middle Niger politics. That era, after 1613, when effective Songhay resistance was largely over and fewer large-scale empires operated in the "Western Sudan", was for obvious reasons quite distinct from the "imperial" era of Songhay, Mali, or Ghana.
As the general narrative of the Songhay Empire or the Western Sudan owes so much to al-Sadi and the Tarikh al-Fattash, reading this chronicle was basically an exercise in seeing how so many historians and documentarians have borrowed this or that idea, characterization, or plot point in their depiction of Songhay rulers like Askia Muhammad or Sunni Ali. We have read select chapters of the two surviving Timbuktu chronicles in the past, for our earlier projects on Ghana and pre-imperial Songhay history, so the early chapters were nothing new. As recent scholarship has shown, an overreliance on the Timbuktu tarikhs is problematic, as the authors had various political, ideological, and religious motives at play, and were relying on oral traditions for much of the earlier history of their region. For instance, today's scholars have called into question the idea of Ali Kulun and the Sunni dynasty of Songhay rulers, pointing to the alarming parallels with Tuareg oral traditions and folklore. Mande, Berber, Songhay, and Islamic influences intersect and shaped how Timbuktu chroniclers like al-Sadi perceived the Middle Niger and the "land of the Blacks" in surprising ways, and not always in what modern secular readers considered to be historically accurate style or methodology.
Thus, one must use these sources very carefully while also coming to see something of the interplay or oral and written traditions in West African literature. One can read these chronicles and see commonality with the oral epics of Sunjata, or the oral epics of the Bamana people of Segu. For al-Sadi and his audience, chronicling the great past of his region while endeavoring to avoid offending the Pasha administration relied on portraying the later Songhay Askia dynasts as corrupt and decadent, yet celebrating the security, Islamic scholarship, and cosmopolitan ties of Timbuktu and Jenne in the Songhay Golden Age (scholars who traveled to Mecca, Egypt, North Africa or corresponded with illustrious figures from Cairo). Moreover, while the author was of "Berber" descent, he also mentions a Fulani ancestor, and probably possessed other West African non-Berber forebears. Clearly, he was a man of Timbuktu and identified with the region and its peoples, and Islamic devotion filtered the lens through which he viewed West Africa. In that respect, he resembled Ahmad Ibn Furtu, the chief imam of the mosque in Borno's capital during the reign of Idris Alooma. Like Ibn Furtu, his historical chronicle sought to stress the proper and just Islamic devotion of his class and preferred rulers. For al-Sadi, this seems to have been Askia Muhammad I and Askia Dawud, and one of course must question the portrayal of these rulers in the chronicles.
It is also clear that the text pointed to the corruption and in-fighting among various siblings and cousins of the Askia royal family over the course of the 16th century as a cause for the empire's decline and relatively quick fall to the invading forces of Morocco. How the Songhay went from being able to raid Moroccan territory in the Dar'a Valley under Askia Dawud to being quickly routed by a relatively small Moroccan force armed with muskets in 1591 is difficult to conceive. Unless the Songhay state was already weakened by problems with succession that weakened its ability to maintain central authority and military capacity, muskets should not have been enough to topple Songhay. Unfortunately, al-Sadi has little to say about the slaves, artisans, and laborers, and little to say about the influence of women among the Songhay. The so-called subaltern groups were probably not seen by al-Sadi as significant historical actors, but glimpses of their role in the economy, political conflict, and marriage alliances of the Songhay rulers clearly emerge. Artisans, such as tailors and shoemakers, hardly appear in chronicle, despite the several workshops in Timbuktu run by tailors who were sometimes scholars themselves. We learn they had a quarter in Gao, created by Askia Dawud, which may also be a veiled reference to artisans as a casted group.
Wednesday, October 20, 2021
Frontin'
Monday, October 18, 2021
Endymion
Book 3 of the Hyperion Cantos was not as bad as we initially expected. After the somewhat disappointing and torturous read of The Fall of Hyperion, we expected something in a similar vein with endless and unnecessary dialogue and excessive chapters. Sure, some of those problems remain. But Simmons uses a simpler narrative structure here, switching back and forth between fewer characters while focusing on the pursuit of Aenea by forces of the Pax, a revived Catholic Church which has accepted the cruciform and replaced the Hegemony as the dominant force of the old Web worlds. While the two later additions in the series are probably unnecessary reads, it is interesting to see how Simmons envisioned a post-Hegemony future of humanity centuries after the Fall, precipitated by Meina Gladstone when she destroyed the farcasters.
Sort of like popular representations of post-Roman western Europe, the Church emerges as the dominant institution, but only possible in this setting through a Faustian deal utilizing enhanced cruciforms for a form of near-immortality. Instead of the older cruciforms that produced unintelligent and sexless Bikura on Hyperion, the Church has promoted a modified cruciform with none of those defects. Unsurprisingly, with its nearly immortal mechanism of the resurrection through cruciforms and combination of military power, it has replaced the Hegemony on several planets while waging war with the Ousters. For those of us readers who were expecting to see more of the unbelievable Ousters and their adaptations to live in deep space, perhaps we need to wait for the final book in the series to see if there will ever be a symbiosis of Ouster lifestyles and old Hegemony humanity.
But we digress. Endymion is basically a chase story that sees Aenea (the one who teaches), the daughter of the Keats cybrid persona and Brawne, use the old farcasters in the company of an android, A. Bettik, and Raul Endymion, a descendant of indigenie Hyperion stock. First escaping on the Consul's centuries-old ship, they use a raft to sail along the Tethys river, which once connected several Web worlds via the farcaster technology, while Federico de Soya of the Vatican/Pax military pursues them. Vatican politics and conspiracies, plus hints to the survival of the Technocore and the enigmatic genocide of Jewish and Muslim worlds add elements of suspense to the narrative. We thoroughly enjoyed it, although the ending of course is incomplete, requiring us to continue with the final novel to actually understand what it is Aenea, Raul, and A. Bettik encounter at their final destination.
While less creative than Hyperion and not quite so literary in its pretensions and allusions as the first two books in the series, this is a worthwhile read for anyone interested in the universe of Hyperion. Of course, it continues the religious themes and symbolism of the previous novels, with a more overt focus on Roman Catholicism, but also attempts to grapple with the same themes of Teilhard, AI evolution into god-like beings, and the nature of God in a world so distorted by advanced technology from the future. Naturally, we are dying to know what is motivating the Shrike to protect Aenea in this novel, which will presumably be revealed in Book 4.
Sunday, October 10, 2021
Bag Lady
Unforgettable.
Friday, October 8, 2021
Me And Those Dreamin' Eyes Of Mine
Wednesday, October 6, 2021
Grettir's Saga
We finally completed our reading of Grettir's Saga, translated by Jesse Byock. This saga was somewhat easier to follow than our last one, as it was focused mostly on a single character instead of a community with its complex genealogies. Of course, the reader is treated to long genealogies and a large cast of characters in this tale of Grettir. Centered on an outlaw who, though physically strong, intelligent, and a clever wordsmith, lacked impulse control and was not inclined to labor, the saga is destined to end poorly for Grettir. His personal disposition and bad luck (particularly after a defeating Glam, a revenant that was terrorizing a part of Iceland) curse him to wander the lands, living on the margins of society yet still respected for defeating berserkers, trolls, and the undead. So the quasi-heroic figure of the outlaw was clearly something that appealed to Icelandic audiences when this saga was written (probably) in the 14th century.
Perhaps every society requires non-conformers to "rock the boat" and challenge the status quo, as Grettir's complicated life exemplifies. Despite robbing for his survival, and even raping a maidservant in one particularly disturbing episode, even Grettir's enemies eventually support his kinsman after the killer of our protagonist resorts to sorcery to defeat him. Indeed, Grettir's death caused the Althing to prohibit sorcery with the threat of the death penalty, if we recall correctly. Furthermore, the manner in which his brother avenges his death in Constantinople is certainly exceptional, adding to Grettir's renown even after death. Of course, as a saga written by a Christian author, of the Middle Ages, the social order cannot be truly upended or overthrown by the likes of Grettir. Ultimately, rank, status and lineage rule the day, and those who transgress Christian morality will eventually make amends. Thus, the adulterous Spes, who eventually marries Grettir's brother, compensates for her misdeeds and the two end their lives in Rome after seeking penance for their sins.
Yet one can see a celebration of the Icelandic lifestyle and individuality of the settlers and their early descendants, a period where men (and usually men, although women like Asdis are certainly admired as powerful matriarchs) stood up for their honor and that of their kinsmen without a centralized state attempting to police their behavior. Presumably this explains the appeal of Grettir's Saga to modern Icelanders and foreign readers, who can enjoy the understatement of the characters' lines, Grettir's proverbial speech, and the attempts by one man who refuses to conform forging his own path. Such character archetypes are always appealing to a variety of readers, across time and space.