Oriental Sources Concerning Nubia

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about the reliability of the included texts for parts of the "Sudan" and contain clearly legendary materials or outdated ideas derived from Ptolemy on the course of the Nile and the interior of Africa. 

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

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

Libyan History

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

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

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

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

Millennium

Although our initial foray into Chris Carter's Millennium began in 2017, we skipped several episodes in the first season and all of season 3. The uneven show reinvented itself for each of its three seasons, and we were mainly interested in the second one for its Christian eschatology. Season 1 had its occasionally great "serial killer of the week" episodes but the repetitive nature of it became difficult to watch. Undoubtedly, season 3 is by far the worst. The Millennium organization lost nearly all of its meaning in the final season for the show. It became an incoherent rambling mix of conspiracy theories closer to the more nonsensical arcs of the larger X-Files mythology. We wanted to like Emma Hollis but couldn't get past the weak building of her character or the loss of Catherine. Furthermore, Frank Black living back on the East Coast instead of gloomy Seattle just didn't seem right considering the dark themes of the show. To be fair, season 2 had its clunkers and some inconsistencies regarding Millennium's origins and the rather silly episode involving Nazis in South America. 

Despite these problems, Millennium was overall a successful show demonstrating what Chris Carter and 1013 were capable of outside of X-Files. Both shows dealt with faith in an age of secular post-modern affluence but Millennium, due to its brevity and ultimate focus on the choices made by humans as the final factor in our future, seems the more meaningful (and relevant) show to those of us living in the 21st century. It certainly does appear that we are headed toward an apocalypse of our own making. And one must definitely be wary of those who seek to control the process and direct it for their own nefarious purposes. We just wish the show had ended with the season 2 finale or had received, perhaps, a final season that attempted to wrap up the plot for the second season. In spite of these shortcomings, at least Millennium ended at a "good" place compared to its sister show which ran for far too long. Both went out with a whimper, yet the whimper for Millennium was understandable due to problems behind the scenes and pressure from the network.

The Sun Kings and the Central Sudan

Heinrich Barth's depiction of Massenya, the capital of Bagirmi 

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

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

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

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

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

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

Alwa and Sudanic Africa

Although we have long considered Alwa to be the more interesting of post-Meroe states in Nubia, the limited archaeological excavations and fewer references in the external Arabic primary sources makes it more of an elusive entity. Mohi el-Din Abdalla Zarroug attempts to redress this with an admittedly speculative but provocative analysis of the kingdom of Alwa. Based on the ethnographic present (after assuming probable cultural continuity in the Nubian heartland for the last several centuries), archaeological surveys, and textual sources from Antiquity, Islamic lands, and later reports or narratives, The Kingdom of Alwa proposes an interesting interpretation of Alwa as the more powerful, wealthiest state of medieval Nubia. Instead of being a peripheral Nubian state, or, as Adams wrongly assumed, a "primitive" state based on the slave trade, Alwa may have been a major state whose influence radiated far to the east and west, perhaps vying with Kanem over influence in Darfur and what later became Wadai. 

Contrary to assumptions or expectations of Makuria being the dominant Nubian kingdom, often based on the far more extensive archaeological research in northern Nubia, Alwa appears to have been able to support higher population densities while benefitting from surplus crops (through riverine and rain-based agriculture), gold exports, hides, and long-distance trade. The interdependency of the pastoralist and agriculturalist populations of Alwa became the basis for a regional economy and local exchange. Gold, iron, ivory, leather, and salt also contributed to this economy, which must have connected Alwa to the Mediterranean, Red Sea, Indian Ocean, Sudanic, and trans-Saharan trade routes. The extent to which Alwa inherited aspects of Meroitic economic or administrative structures is unknown, but Zarroug sees evidence of "Meroitized" Noba in the region during the Late Meroitic Period, according to burial types and the Axumite inscription of Ezana. Geographical factors likely favored continuity, too, suggesting Alwa succeeded Meroe as the center of Nubia. This is also the impression one gains from the external Arabic sources like al-Aswani. 

Zarroug speculates that Alwa relied more on east-west trade routes that linked the kingdom to trans-Saharan routes as well as to the Red Sea. Ruins of structures in Kordofan and Darfur suggest Alwa (and probably Makuria, too) had a presence in western Sudan, likely connecting it to trade routes that led to the Fezzan and North Africa. Although the evidence is still lacking or perhaps waiting on confirmation from finds in Kanem, Darfur, and Soba, Zarroug's theory is quite plausible. We have long wondered to what extent Kanem may have played an early essential role in trade and cultural contacts across the Sudanic belt of the African continent. Hints of it can be seen in the chronicles of Ahmad b. Furtu or al-Idrisi, Ibn Said and oral traditions of Darfur suggestive of Kanem's influence further east. Perhaps Kanem and Alwa (and likely Makuria) exerted influence over the Daju and what later became Wadai as peripheral territories. Over time, secure trade routes developed which could link Alwa to the Fezzan and possibly establish a firmer "Sudan Road." The presence of Muslim traders in Alwa and Makuria may have facilitated this process, so that Christian Nubia did not represent an impenetrable barrier for Muslims of the Central Sudan.  

Monastic Holy Men of Early Solomonic Ethiopia

In our current quest to read as much as possible on Ethiopian history, with an emphasis on the Solomonic dynasty, we found Kaplan's The Monastic Holy Man and the Christianization of Early Solomonic Ethiopia to be a very readable overview and analysis. Drawing mostly from the hagiographical literature, Kaplan endeavors to elucidate the rise, function and socio-political context of the holy man. As in the case of Peter Brown's study of the Christian holy man, Kaplan finds some commonalities. However, the distinct origins of Christianity in Ethiopia in the Aksumite period, particularly its top-down origins, and the limitations faced by its Church, led to some important differences. This is perhaps most evident in the Ethiopian Church's dependence on Alexandria, and the lack of interest in evangelization shown by the Egyptian bishops and most of the Solomonic dynasts (except for Zara Yaeqob). 

Although monasticism and saints in the Ethiopian tradition predate the Solomonic "restoration" of 1270, Kaplan argues that the reigning dynasty created conditions favorable for monasticism. Local or provincial nobles who would have remained in political office gradually shifted to a religious vocation as heads of monastic communities in order to retain their power or authority in the face of an expanding Solomonic state, especially during the consolidation of the state under Amda Seyon. While Solomonic rulers supported monastic communities through gult lands and gifts, Kaplan's study suggests the monastic holy men, who were mostly from noble families, would have been partly pushed to monastic life in order to preserve their noble prerogatives as abbots. These abbots, who came from noble families and then received gult in some cases, often ran their gult in a similar manner as the provincial nobility or chiefs. While some holy men were not abbots, the vast majority in the hagiographical literature were heads of monastic communities. 

Some "houses" periodically entered into conflict with the Solomonic dynasty over doctrinal issues or the royal government's attempts to control the Church. Yet the noble origins of the monastic holy man and his frequent involvement with the state's military (through prayer and predictions) led to constant relations. Indeed, the holy man came to be a mediator between the government and the masses, just as he served a similar function as the intermediary of the Christian believers and God. The holy man likewise served as healer, tamer of wild beasts, exorcist, and missionary, spreading the Gospel to pagan or Muslim subject peoples. Unsurprisingly, the monastic holy man often became an important figure based on the variety of his services, connections to powerful people, leadership, and spiritual or religious power. Our hagiographical literature reflects this, and since they were initially written to glorify a saint, often contain numerous miracles or stories meant to enhance the stature of the holy man as an almost angelic being. 

Unfortunately, as missionaries, they usually failed to deeply plant the seed of Christian belief. Their ability to gain adherents to the faith was often through showing the superiority of Christianity in magic rituals or, in some cases, through political advantages Christianity presented to pagan secular leaders eager to limit or remove the religious leadership they shared their authority with. This might help explain why the Muslim invasions of the 16th century were often able to quickly convert parts of Ethiopia, since their Christianization never supplanted their previous traditional religious worldview. Nor were converts necessarily deeply imbued with Christian doctrine or belief. Of course, the lack of support for evangelization from the Solomonic state and Alexandria placed severe limitations on what the monastic centers could accomplish. Without an adequately trained clergy in sufficient numbers, Christianization of the empire was necessarily limited.

In spite of its brevity, and the problematic nature of the sources (though often validated by other traditions, chronicles, or sources), anyone interested in monasticism in Ethiopia or Christianity should read this. It helps us gain a better understanding of exactly who the monks and clerical leadership were in Ethiopia. Moreover, it helps to create a clearer picture of what happened on the ground as Christianity expanded beyond the traditional core of the Aksumite and Zagwe kingdoms. We think a possible comparison could be made with the ulama and the state in Borno or the mallam and the holy man. Perhaps there are similarities between the two beyond the superficial, and in spite of the differences between Christianity and Islam. 

John Skylitzes

John Skylitzes was a Byzantine Greek historian. A member of the aristocracy, Skylitzes had the titles of kouropalates and droungarios tes viglas under Alexios Komnenos. Writing his Synopsis Historiarum as a continuation of Theophano’s Chronicle during the reign of Alexios Komnenos, Skylitzes includes Basil II’s campaign in Bulgaria and ends in the year 1057. Indeed, Skylitzes’ account of Basil’s victory at the 1014 Battle of Kleidion reworks the battle, claiming Basil blinded 15,000 Bulgarian, which had even been questioned by contemporary historians of the time. The aforementioned work was later recopied in 12th  century Sicily and accompanied by illustrations of various episodes from Byzantium’s history, thereafter called the Madrid Skylitzes. A sequel, called Skylitzes Continuatus, perhaps written by John Skylitzes, includes the years 1057-79 and is a revision of the Historia of Michael Attaleiates. Skylitzes’ intention was to write an objective history that would include more details left out by other historians, such as Psellos. In addition, Skylitzes also had training as a jurist and completed three surviving legal writings and known for drafting one treatise on marriage. Skylitzes was also known as John the Thrakesian and served as a Komnenian official in Alexios’ administration.

Bibliography

Holmes, Catherine. Basil II and the Governance of the Empire (976-1025). Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2005.

Alexander Kazhdan, Anthony Cutler, "Skylitzes, John" in The Oxford Dictionary of Byzantium. Ed. Alexander P. Kazhdan. © 1991, 2005 by Oxford University Press, Inc.

Stephanson, Peter. "The legend of Basil the Bulgar-slayer." Byzantine and Modern Greek Studies 24 (2000): 102-132.

Jews of Ethiopia

Although we are not primarily interested in the history of Ethiopian Jewry, we found this video to be one of the more interesting options out there on Youtube relevant to Ethiopian history. We first encountered this Youtube channel several months ago when we were interested in Jewish history, albeit in that case mostly the Sephardim. Anyway, this is an excellent introduction to a topic we have not dedicated enough attention to in our brief forays into Ethiopian history. There is just so much material to read when it comes to northeastern Africa. 

Tripoli and the Two Seas

Jean-Claude Zelter's  Tripoli, carrefour de l'Europe et des pays du Tchad, 1500-1795 is one of those studies of Tripoli that we believed was necessary to understand the North African side of Kanem-Borno's trans-Saharan trade. Due to Zeltner's specialization in the Chadian past and research in Kanem and among the Awlad Sulayman Arabs, we hoped his history of Tripoli would integrate the histories of Tripolitania and the Central Sudan. Unfortunately, a deeper integration of the two remains to be written but this is an interesting start. Indeed, Zeltner fits the history of Tripoli in both a Mediterranean and trans-Saharan context. Indeed, without Europe, the Chad Basin and the bridges of the Mediterranean and Sahara, Tripoli was economically marginal. This indicates how a major North African port relied so heavily on the African interior and Europe and the economic integration of Africa and Europe (and the Levant). 

Outside of corsair activity targeting European ships and enslaving the victims, the trade in slaves and other "goods" acquired the trans-Saharan trade was the main source of revenue for the rulers (beys and pashas) of Tripoli from c.1500-1795. Moreover, as Zeltner takes great pains to indicate, most of the goods traded further south to Borno or sub-Saharan Africa via Tripoli came from Europe, especially Italy and even France. Thus, the trans-Saharan trade of the Central Sudan was directly linked to Mediterranean and European economies. Zeltner seems to have believed that had the Holy Roman Empire under Charles V or another European power had permanently established control of Tripoli and the Barbary coast, European trade with the African interior through the Sahara could have developed fully without the constant attacks of pirates or, in the case of Tripoli, frequent revolutions and unseating of pashas. But that's neither here nor there. Perhaps it is best to see Zeltner's overview of Tripoli's history in an attempt to show how the North African port served a vital role in connecting various regional or really global economies. Future studies could probably, assuming more data is accumulated or discovered, link developments in Tripoli and Fezzan with specific economic and political affairs in the Central Sudan or Borno. 

Unfortunately, there are some problems with Zeltner's approach and the structure of the book. The first 100 pages delve into the larger conflicts between the Ottoman Empire and the Holy Roman Empire in the Mediterranean. It is definitely important for understanding how Tripoli fell under the control of Turgut, but it may be excessive to spend so many pages on the period leading up to 1551. Perhaps it would have been good to cover Wadai in the 17th and 18th centuries, too, for an additional kingdom trading with Tripoli and the Libyan coast. Fuller coverage of what was going on in the Central Sudan during the period, in addition to the reign of Idris b. Ali of Borno, could have been juxtaposed with Tripoli's various conflicts with the English, French and other Europeans in the Mediterranean. That could have better emphasized how events or political, social, and religious changes in the Central Sudan had an impact on Tripoli and the Mediterranean, not just Tripoli's political or social changes influencing the Fezzan and "Sudan" to the south. It was also confusing to see Zeltner equate Kwararafa with the Mandara kingdom, despite evidence linking it to the Jukun peoples.

Nevertheless, Zeltner's book is a good introduction to Tripoli that helps us better understand the Tripoli chronicle previously read for this site. Some of the particularities of Barbary piracy, Ottoman interests in the Mediterranean and even the role of the French in shipping African captives in Tripoli to the Levant were especially interesting. The frequent coups and revolutions and the way in which Tripoli, for a time, benefitted from French and English rivalry in the Mediterranean was likewise intriguing and perhaps brings to mind the ways in which banditry in the Sahara and Sahel had its counterpart on sea with the corsairs and rivalry between Sudanic states or kingdoms. Banditry and business go hand in hand, despite the former occasionally hurting the latter.