Chronicle of Theophanes

Harry Turtledove's partial translation of The Chronicle of Theophanes covers the important years 602-813. A pivotal two centuries which saw the rise of Islam and the loss of Byzantine or Roman rule in various important provinces like Egypt and parts of the Middle East, Theophanes's chronicle is one of our major sources. Beginning with the fall of Emperor Maurice and Byzantine wars with Sassanian Persia, the sources utilized for this chronicle partly elucidate why Byzantium struggled with the expansion of Islam. Meanwhile, in addition to wars in the Middle East and Mediterranean, Byzantium faced a threat in the Balkans from the Avars and later the Bulgars. This war on two fronts exposed the Empire to several threats that most of the emperors either lacked the ability or resources to address fully. The problem of iconoclasm in the 8th century added more problems since it created divisions in the Empire among the Christian population and the factions which supported iconoclasm or opposed it. Some emperors, if Theophanes is indeed reliable for the reigns of Leo and Constantine Copronymus, appear to have even taken advantage of iconoclasm to seize wealth and goods from monasteries and laypeople. 

Of course, one must use Theophanes carefully as a source. His repeated references to iconoclastic emperors as impious, evil, and a threat to the world illustrate how the chronicler's own biases may have led him to exaggerate. Nonetheless, given the intense internal divisions within the Empire and the ongoing threat from the Bulgars and Arabs, it is sometimes surprising that it survived. It probably helped that the caliphates appeared to lack the ability to conquer Anatolia and their sieges of Constantinople were thwarted. One's impression from reading Theophanes is that frequent border raids and violations of treaties or agreements were common, but neither side was truly able to achieve a substantial victory against the other. In addition, population movements and relocations must have helped sustain Byzantine rule in areas of conflict, such as the movement of Armenian and Syrian Christians into regions near the Bulgars and the movement of Slavs into Anatolia. Alliances with Western powers like the Franks and even the Khazars could also be of use for protecting Byzantine interests in Europe and the east. 

What stood out to us, however, is the possible reference to someone from East Africa or India who married the wife of a spatharios named Helias. Punished by Emperor Justinian Rhinotmetus, this woman was wed to an "Indian"  cook who, due to the occasional conflation of India and Ethiopia in Greek writings, may have been someone from Africa. Moreover, people from Africa, particularly Nubia and Ethiopia, would have been known to Late Antique Byzantium. Indeed, there were even pagans still living in Harran well into Islamic times, demonstrating the religious diversity of the Middle East long after the establishment of the early caliphates. But what, if any, were the possible links between Byzantium and Nubia or Ethiopia during this centuries? 

Kassia's Music

Although we don't usually listen to this type of music, our ongoing obsession with Byzantium has brought it to our attention and we find it enchanting and irresistibly beautiful.

Petion's Republic and the Haitian People

La République de Pétion et le peuple haïtien by Hénock Trouillot is important to read when considering Trouillot as a historian of early Haiti. Juxtaposed with his study of the government of Henri Christophe, Trouillot establishes, quite convincingly, how the model of a modern state was more likely to be achieved under the northern king than the republican government in the South and West. Unlike Christophe, whose state was more successful at maintaining large-scale plantation production and ensuring the state possessed significant reserves, the southern republic was cash-strapped, lawless or crime-filled in the capital, notably corrupt, and delivered the economy of the country into the hands of foreign merchants. Christophe's state, which inherited some of the the practices of Toussaint Louverture and the Dessalinien Empire, was more successful at protecting national commerce and industry and was, if given the time, more likely to lead to a stronger state.

Unfortunately, Petion's republic became the model for Haiti after the reunification under President Boyer. Even though Boyer himself had to repudiate or distance himself from some of his predecessor's actions, the mold was already cast. Thus, the regular abuse of power by the executive against the legislative branch and Petion's intervention in the courts was inherited by subsequent presidents. In addition, the incompetence of Petion during his war with Christophe helped ensure the fall of General Lamarre. Deficits, corruption, mishandling of government revenues, and politicians or functionaries cheating the state were regular affairs that sadly plague Haiti to this day. Even Petion himself encouraged the production of counterfeit Haitian currency as his administration looked the other way as Pigny, the director of the Hotel de la Monnaie, enriched himself by printing extra cash and the government accepted counterfeit money at a percentage of its value. 

Petion's republic embraced liberalism to detrimental consequences, too. For instance, his republic weakened national commerce by ending many of the protections of Dessalines and the state's role in commerce, ultimately favoring foreign merchants with access to capital, credit and international markets. Some examples of foreign merchants who enriched themselves during this time included the Frenchman Frederic Martin, who violated laws and received special treatment due to his friendship and partnership with the Bonnets. These foreign merchants often sold on credit to detaillants, who were often women (wives or mistresses of prominent Haitian functionaries or military leaders) who then resold imported goods to petite marchandes from their boutiques. This system, however, led to greater dependence on foreigners (French, English, German and American) who had access to credit, capital, and wielded a great influence on the commerce of the nation. Even attempts to protect local commerce often fell short since those in the upper echelons of the republic's administration were often landowners with an interest in grand commerce that entailed partnerships with these important merchants. These same individuals, including the president were willing to look the other way when foreigners violated laws that restricted their activities. 

Even on the land question, an area in which Petion is sometimes praised for recognizing the merits of small-scale proprietorship, the reality was quite different. According to Trouillot, he actually sold or made concessions to land to upper ranks of the military while saving the best lands for high-level functionaries or himself. However, the lack of capital, absence of technicians and loss or destruction of machinery during the Haitian Revolution meant that the land was often parceled or resold multiple times. This was the beginning of the de moitie system since those who held property needed some system in which labor could be found to produce something for export or national markets. However, it was not necessarily the intent of the president to provide land directly to the cultivateurs on a large scale, nor was his government able to protect them from the abuses of the corvee system or even from beatings by their employer. Indeed, even soldiers were sometimes forced to work on lands owned by their superior officers! What often occurred was a type of serfdom for the cultivateurs, especially when landowners were high-ranking functionaries or military generals with the means to abuse the corvee system or their power to exploit the cultivateurs who received little or no pay or medical benefits from their de moitie contracts. 

What about the population of Haiti? Sadly, Trouillot's sources did not allow him to delve deeply into this matter. However, Petion was, through demagogy, a popular ruler. He regularly gave alms to the poor during national celebrations and, perhaps due to his fears of sparking disturbances because of the color question, he went out of his way to treat noirs well (or at least that's what some sources suggest). Nonetheless, despite his popularity, popular discontent and hostility directed against the French was palpable. Disorder, theft, and anti-French violence in Port-au-Prince were common enough to spark fears among some of the foreign merchant colonies in the capital. Likewise, even the dance societies (tied to Carnaval?) which included titles like president, king, queen and general for their leadership sparked fears of political disorder and revolts. The fact that the government expressed fears of the masses i the city and the ongoing revolt of Goman in the South was never defeated by Petion suggest the masses reacted to Petion with overt and covert resistance. The crimes targeting the goods of foreign merchants and the French, for instance, were undoubtedly a reflection of the populace's anti-French sentiments and fear of a European takeover or invasion. Similarly, Goman's state lasting so long in the Sud showed the appeal of his movement to people in that region as well as its ability to establish a functional community with agricultural exports to Christophe and abroad to furnish itself with weapons and ammunition. Whether or not a noir had tried to assassinate him right before Petion's death is unclear, but the fears of the French that a massacre of the "mulattoes" or themselves was possible in the transition to Boyer's government definitely points to the republic's instability and weakness. Petion, in short, failed to establish stable institutions while encouraging the state against nation paradigm so expertly elucidated by Trouillot's nephew.

Electric Feel

An older song we were never fond of but now cannot escape.

Endicott

We have forgotten about Kid Creole and the Coconuts. In fact, we are not even sure what reminded of this group's excellent music. We are impressed by the group's ability to combine retro and Caribbean influences with modern genres.

Memoriales antiguas historiales del Peru

Fernando Montesino's Memoriales antiguas historiales del Peru is a tricky source. The manuscript translated by Philip AInsworth Means includes a critical introduction by Clements R. Markham indicating that the chronicle was likely based on a lost text by the Jesuit mestizo, Blas Valera. However, Montesinos endeavored to force the long history of Peru into a Christian timeline based on the arrival of Noah's son, Ophir, in Peru and reckoning years by 1000 year periods since the Flood. It also appears that Montesinos frequently confused ancient, pre-Inca kings with those better known from other sources on the Inca period. Nonetheless, despite the clearly legendary character of many of the pre-Inca kings and the problems with the chronology suggested by Montesinos, his work is an invaluable source on how, filtered through his own bias, the amautas and quipucamayocs possibly conceived the ancient history of Peru. Furthermore, the idea of the Incas rendering time through cycles with new suns in which, after every 500 years or so, a Pachacuti reigned, is a fascinating one that could point to Mesoamerican influences. Alas, the more reliable work of Blas Valera is lost, forcing us to make sense of the Montesino's work with what has survived from various other Spanish chroniclers, Garcilaso de la Vega and Guaman Poma de Ayala. 

In some respects, the chronicle is mainly a long list of names with some receiving great detail on events during their reigns. This brings to mind sources like the Diwan of the Sayfawa in Kanem-Borno. Like this African dynasty, a number of critical questions has arisen with regard to the chronology used, the possibility of telescoping or confusion, the inclusion of early kings who are of a more legendary character, and the function of such long lists. Sadly, unlike Kanem-Borno, we lack written sources from the pre-conquest period that corroborate it. But, in accordance with the chronicle of Guaman Poma de Ayala, one can also see how a chronicle written as a long list would be likely based on oral traditions preserving history through songs and genealogies while also, perhaps, reflecting the use of quipus. Indeed, Montesinos himself states this, as he claims amautas and quipus were the sources of his chronicle. However, unlike any other source, this is the only one that delves deeply into the matter of pre-Inca kings, before the Inca state of Cuzco developed into a powerful empire that dominated Peru and surrounding areas. It even alludes to migrations and invasions from the Amazonian region and north that, if even remotely true, show how well-connected Peru was to other parts of South America. 

Were some of these pre-Inca kings, also said to have been based in Cuzco and having the same origin as the Incas in other creation myths recorded in the chronicles, actually references to Wari and Tiwanaku kings? Why were they then later remembered as kings based in Cuzco? Was this simply an example of Inca-period amautas transforming the past in a way that affirmed the ultimate Inca authority over Peru based on antiquity? Or was this a reflection of a cyclical view of the past, with similarly-named kings assuming to have ruled over various periods of greatness and decline for thousands of years? Undoubtedly, the chronology used here reminds one of that used by Guaman Poma de Ayala, who, instead of multiplying the number of kings, extended the reigns and life-spans of the Inca emperors and rulers back to about 2000 years ago. However, the traditions recorded by Montesinos allude to interesting events that, while perhaps mainly of an apocryphal character, include a loss system of ancient writing, wars and migrations with people from the East and North and across the sea (including "black" people in their ranks), and the earlier expansion of the Peruvian kings into Quito. Again, Montesinos confuses some of these earlier kings and their exploits with the better known (and significantly later) Inca period of imperial expansion, but perhaps these tales reflect earlier Tiwanaku, Wari, and Chimu states. 

Ultimately, we are of the view that the long list of 93 kings or more of Peru likely does reflect earlier periods in which Wari and Tiwanaku were major powers in the region. The extended chronology and the possibility of collateral succession probably indicate that the extended chronology of Montesinos is far too long. Nonetheless, some of the details reported here are fascinating though difficult or impossible to prove. The idea of the ancient Peruvians having a system of writing using parchment and leaves is fascinating, especially since other traditions about Viracocha (sometimes confused with St. Thomas the Apostle) mention him carrying a book. Whether or not it was actually true that an oracle demanded they cease the use of this writing system seems more legendary, but it would suggest that the Incas developed quipus (including the phonetic ones) from an earlier system based on a writing script. Why Guaman Poma's sources did not include this extensive list of pre-Inca kings may have also reflected his different sources, not based in Ecuador, as well as the influence of Christianity on his conception of time. Perhaps thinking of the Biblical stories and Christian traditions of long-lived patriarchs and the way other traditions in Peru stretched out the chronology of Inca rulers, Guaman Poma instead followed the traditional list of Inca-period rulers based at Cuzco while attempting to preserve the longer time period with inexplicably long reigns. Guaman Poma then was freed from the long list of others who, to be even somewhat accurate for the pre-Inca period, must have been referring to Wari and Tiwanaku rulers whilst forcing that earlier period into a history of the Cuzco-based kings.

Golden Age of the Garamantes

 

This week's episode from the History of Africa Podcast is a fascinating one on the Golden Age of the Garamantes. And yes, it would be "cool" if the language of the Garamantes was a Nilo-Saharan one written with proto-tifinagh. The theory of a Garamantes connection with populations in the Tibetsi, Kawar, and later Kanem is certainly an intriguing one, as is the worship of Amun by the Garamantes possibly finding an echo in later customs of the Zaghawa and Kanem states.

Jacmel in 1845

Maurice Lubin's L'administration de Jacmel en 1845 is too brief to truly provide an idea of Jacmel in the 1840s, but it certainly helps. Relying on surviving government documents and reports on receiving and expenditures of the arrondissement's administration, Lubin's short publication does suggest something of Jacmel's importance in Haiti at the time. For instance, Jacmel's revenue stream included about the equivalent of 6 million in foreign currency that was sent to the central administration in Port-au-Prince. Jacmel was also frequently visited by foreign ships in 1845, including two from Venezuela. The city's military received about 52 percent of expenses, with only one single primary school funded by the government. This sorry state of affairs, including the existence of only military hospitals and no government spending on health and sanitation, demonstrates the negative impact of Haiti's overly militarized administration. Indeed, the state could not even pay respectable salaries to some of the citizens who served in the armed forces yet died in indigence and their families could not cover the costs of their funerals. So, while there was prosperity from Jacmel's coffee economy and, perhaps, the cost of living was not yet so high, the government was still spending perhaps excessively in the military. This was so even after the final recognition of Haitian independence by France, though the Western powers could still have invaded the island, necessitating a strong military.

Chronographia of Michael Psellos

Reading a certain science fiction novel partly inspired by the Byzantine Empire has motivated us to read more chronicles and histories by authors from that ancient civilization. This time, Michael Psellos, the pompous philosopher and intellectual, provided our reading material. Focusing on the reigns of 14 emperors of Byzantium during the 11th century, our arrogant intellectual provides interesting insights into the nature of Byzantine imperial politics during the pivotal century that witnessed the decline of the empire after its apogee under Basil II. According to Psellos, the successors to Basil II were, although not invariably, corrupting forces who squandered the riches of the imperial treasury through gifts, promotions and luxuries that were not put in good use to protect the Empire's borders and power. Though he occasionally found positive things to say about some emperors, such as Constantine IX, Michael (Zoe's boytoy), Isaac Comnenos, and even Michael VII, especially those who courted his favor or admired his philosophical and rhetorical accomplishment, the overall trend he portrays is one of decay. 

The failure of Basil II to sire a male heir and the problematic marriages and reign of Zoe and Theodora opened the door to more problems as the end of the Macedonian dynasty drew near. Instead of securing the eastern frontier from the Turks or protecting the west, emperors wasted time and resources on conflicts with their own generals, putting down rebellions, or promoting people to high positions who did not earn it on merit. Likewise, extravagant spending on churches, monasteries, lavish living, and the waste of the imperial treasury made the Empire weaker. The one emperor who seemed determine to eradicate the causes of the decadence of the Empire, Isaac Comnenos, was, according to Psellos, too eager and tried to cure or cauterize the Empire too quickly, sparking opposition and frustrating his aims. 

While one may certainly take issue with the way Psellos portrayed 11th century emperors and the role of his own bias as someone actively involved in the events he described, his history does suggest that the Macedonian dynasty's troubles with succession after Constantine VIII's daughters and corrupt habits did play a major role in weakening the Empire. Nonetheless, things were not quite as bad as they would later become after the loss of much of Anatolia. In fact, Byzantine power still made it a major power, particularly in relations with the Fatimids of Egypt and various Muslim and Christian powers. The Byzantines were able to defeat a Russian invasion in the Black Sea, too. Byzantine ships were also active in the Atlantic during the reign of Romanos III, if Psellos is reliable. Furthermore, the Empire was able to defeat a Bulgar rebellion while Empress Zoe was able to import spices from India and Egypt. Thus, despite the aforementioned problems faced by Byzantium, the Empire was still in a relatively strong position. Indeed, even Manzikert was not the doomsday it could have been, since the captured emperor was released by the Seljuq sultan. One just wishes the military, which arose to dominance under Isaac, had been able to consolidate the attempted reforms and fiscal changes ushered by Isaac to bolster the frontier defenses.

Atabey

"Atabey" is in some ways a catchier song than "Cacibajagua" from the same group.

Haitian Creole and Education in the US: An Annotated Bibliography

 1. Joseph, C. M. “Haitians in the U.S.: Language, Politics and Education.” In A. Spears & C. Joseph (Eds,) The Haitian Creole Language: History, Structure, Use and Education (pp. 229-248). Lexington Books. 

Carole M. Berotte Joseph’s chapter provides an overview on the role of Haitian Creole in the context of Haitian immigration to the US. According to Joseph, Haitian Creole remains largely an oral language among Haitians in the US. French retains its prestige among immigrants, however. Historically, in the case of monolingual Haitian Creole speakers, it was a struggle for teachers to realize Haitians speak Creole, not French. Indeed, an ongoing stigma attached to Creole and the paucity of instructional materials and Creole-speaking instructors has led to Haitian bilingual programs often being of poor quality. Another obstacle faced by Haitian Creole-speaking students was their classification as simply African-American, which carried assumptions of English-speaking backgrounds. This, unfortunately, led to many Haitian students not receiving the language support they need. Furthermore, fewer bilingual programs in Creole are now available in New York City, Boston or Miami. Ultimately, Joseph’s chapter attests to the unequal status of Creole in both Haiti and the US, where many Creole-speaking students either did not or do not receive ESL services. Lamentably, this contributes to limitations on developing full fluency or literacy in Creole. 

2. Zéphir, F. (1997).  “Haitian Creole Language and Bilingual Education in the United States.” Journal of Multilingual and Multicultural Development (Vol. 18, Issue 3), 223-237. 

Flore Zephir, “Haitian Creole Language and Bilingual Education in the United States”

Zephir’s article passionately argues in favor of first language instruction for Haitian students. Citing 1992 research, the author claims Haitian students were the third largest minority group in NYC public schools (Zephir, 1997). Moreover, the school system was guilty of a failure to recognize the linguistic and cultural diversity of Black populations in the US. Haitian students were seen as Blacks and not placed in programs that would have helped by using the Creole language. In fact, Haitians face triple discrimination as Blacks, for coming from the Global South, and for speaking Creole, which is often not seen as a legitimate language (Zephir, 1997). In order to address the issue, Zephir argues that schools must stop assuming Haitian students are African-Americans, Creole must be accepted as a fully legitimate language, and children should receive home language instruction. According to research, the use of the students’ L1 in instruction can lower the affective filter, so that learning can occur. More comprehensible input would be available for students by having teachers with knowledge of the culture and sociolinguistic reality of Creole-speaking students. Thus, according to this author, Haitian Creole speakers continue to face linguistic discrimination that partly mirrors the lower status of Creole in Haiti. Similarly, the loss of the students’ L1 is inferred due to the lack of home language instruction, implying most students probably never develop full literacy in Creole.

3. Cenat, M.L (2011). “Myths and Realities: A History of Haitian Creole Language Programs in New York City.” Journal of Haitian Studies, Vol. 17, No. 2, pp. 73-91

Cenat’s research interprets the history of Haitian Creole programs in New York City. Beginning with the controversial Bernard Reform of 1979 in Haiti and the struggles of Haitian Creole to gain full inclusion, Cenat then summarizes the debate on Creole genesis (Cenat, 2011). Due to the debate on the relexification hypothesis and the “exceptional” status of Creole languages, some view the tongue as incapable of being a significant instructional tool. This background is relevant for understanding the early struggles of Haitian students in New York. Initially, schools used French with Haitians in their language policies. Later, in the 1980s and 1990s, Haitian Creole increasingly won support through the organizing efforts of activists, teachers, organizations, and academics, like linguist Yves Dejean (Cenat 2011). This led, in 1981, to the Haitian Parent-Teacher Training Project, which worked with Limited English Proficient Haitian students by preparing Haitian educators and engaging in outreach to Haitian parents. Later, in 1993, the Haitian Bilingual Educational Technical Assistance Center (HABETAC) was founded at the City College of New York. Unlike the Haitian Parent-Teacher Training Project, HABETAC supported schools serving Limited English Proficient Haitian students, often targeting Haitian teachers. A number of public schools in the city even offered bilingual programs, although many Haitians believed Haitian students were still not receiving enough programs to accommodate them. This led to a class action lawsuit in 1996, filed against the Board of Education and the New York State Education Department. While the lawsuit was eventually stalled, many Haitian Creole bilingual programs began to disappear by the end of the 1990s. According to Cenat, today only 3 NYC public schools have bilingual Haitian Creole programs. This decline in the number of bilingual programs is accompanied by a restructuring of high schools that has led to several lacking enough Haitian students for a bilingual program. Then, the closure of HABETAC further contributed to the decline of bilingual education for Haitians. Haitian families were now left without a center. Meanwhile, the support for the language rights of Haitian students was revitalized by grassroots groups like Flanbwayan, Kongo and Gran Chimen Sant Kiltirel. The article’s history of Haitian Creole programs illustrates how Haitian Creole continues to face exclusion, discrimination and marginalization in education. The Haitian language occupies a position vis-a-vis English that, once again, mirrors its position with regard to French. Language loss, on the other hand, or at least the failure to develop full literacy, is likely to occur since there is not adequate support for instruction in Creole. 

4.Buxton, C.A., Lee, O., Mahotiere, M. (2008). “The Role of Language in Academic and Social Transition of Haitian Children and Their Parents to Urban U.S. Schools.” Bilingual Research Journal, 31: 47-74.

Buxton, Lee and Mahotiere use interviews with Haitian educators, parents, and students to comprehend the role of language in the academic and social transition of Haitians to urban schools in the US. Relying on the theoretical constructs of linguistic identity and actor networks, the authors find 3 themes: an affinity for multiple languages, a wish to be multicultural, and a responsibility to help others in their community (Buxton, Lee & Mahotiere, 2008). Drawing on the earlier scholarship and the sociocultural roles of language, the authors claim Haitians understand how language can be used to represent power or the lack thereof. In addition, the low status of Creole in Haiti has shaped how some Haitian parents perceive Creole in their children’s US schooling. Since, in Haiti, these parents likely attended schools in which instruction was entirely in French, they may not seek Creole language support for their children. The authors argue that linguistic identity is central to knowing how individuals balance their integration in US cultural and linguistic forms with the maintenance of their home languages and cultural practices. Significantly, the authors found that all 3 groups (Haitian parents, educators and students) expressed a desire to maintain Haitian Creole and to improve fluency and literacy. The teachers, too, support the L1 of their students. Nonetheless, the majority of the parents and teachers plus many of the interviewed students also claimed to regularly use French and wished to maintain the French language. This suggests French retains its prestige status among Haitians in the US, with one parent expressing that French is important for their child to be able to communicate with relatives in France. One parent, however, saw French as a barrier to education in Haitian schools while Haitian children now contend with the challenge of English in their US schools. Moreover, Haitian parents, teachers and students all expressed a strong belief in the maintenance of Haitian culture, traditions, behaviors and languages whilst simultaneously embracing the multicultural world of South Florida. Creole is even used by the teachers when not necessary in the classroom to strengthen bonds between teacher and students. Last, the sense of responsibility to aid other Haitians entails the maintenance of bilingualism. Consequently, according to this article, Haitian students, parents, and teachers are dedicated to the maintenance of Creole for supporting their community, identity, and participating in a multicultural society. The legacy of French as a prestige language associated with power, has also shaped the linguistic identity of Haitians, since the majority believe it is important to maintain and develop it.

5. Barrière, I., Monreau-Merry, M.M (2012).  “Trilingualism of the Haitian Diaspora in NYC: Current and future challenges.” In O. Garcia, Z. Zakharia & b. Otcu (2012) Bilingual Community Education for American Children: Beyond Heritage Languages in a Global City (pp. 247-258). Multilingual Matters.

Analyzing the trilingualism of the Haitian Diaspora in NYC, the authors describe how English, French and Creole coexist in an unequal manner. Drawing on the history of Haitian Creole and the role of French as the prestige language, the authors contrast its favor with that of Creole. Indeed, Creole, which lacked an official orthography until the 1980s, was not recognized as an official language until 1987 (Barrière & Monreau-Merry, 2012). Haitian immigrant students in the US also continue to suffer from misperceptions of their language. According to the authors, Haitians are still assumed to be Francophones. Due to additional problems such as the lack of Haitian school records and the few Haitian Creole-speaking staff in schools, many students are still placed in the wrong classes. Furthermore, the children of Haitian migrants who reside in poor neighborhoods have become multilingual and multidialectal, acquiring African American Vernacular English as well as West Indian English. This linguistic and dialectal diversity has shaped second-generation Haitian immigrants, who either identify as Black American, Haitian or as immigrants. Another development is the prominence of Haitian students in the French programs in NYC launched since the French Embassy’s 2007 ‘French Goes Public’ initiative. According to the researchers, Haitian students comprise 29% of the study body in these French programs (Barrière & Monreau-Merry, 2012). Learning Creole, on the other hand, is less successful. Indeed, the initiatives taken after the 2010 earthquake and the centers or universities offering classes may not be enough to ensure second and third generation Haitians retain the language. Nonetheless, French appears to receive more support than Haitian Creole in both Haiti and New York, thereby demonstrating another example of the ways in which Creole’s lower prestige in both Haiti and the US continues to shape language policies of schools and districts. The absence of first language instruction may even threaten the language’s persistence for subsequent generations.

Conclusion

In conclusion, the aforementioned sources indicate that Haitian Creole instruction and bilingual programs in the US still experience the effects of the colonial French legacy and unequal status and stigma in the US. While there have been some notable attempts to create bilingual programs and support Haitian students with home-language instruction and ESL services, many are not receiving the services they need. In addition, the stigma attached to Creole in Haiti and the US has meant that some Haitian students will not develop full literacy in their L1. Haitian grassroots organizations and academics, based in the US and Haiti, however, have been pushing for more instruction in Creole since teaching in the first language is demonstrated by research to be most effective. Haitian Creole maintenance, in other ways, seems partly guaranteed by the Haitian population in areas like South Florida defining their culture as partly based in Creole. The global Haitian diaspora may also be suggestive of another reason for the maintenance of Creole due to the need for Haitian families dispersed across multiple countries to communicate. This may be relevant for the analysis of language maintenance across generations for other nationalities or ethnic groups with widespread diasporic communities.

Les anciennes sucreries coloniales et le marché haïtien (sous Boyer)

Les anciennes sucreries coloniales et le marché haïtien (sous Boyer) by Hénock Trouillot is a short read on an interesting moment that consolidated Haiti's banana republic path. As the title indicates, Trouillot's work explores the decline of Haitian sugar production during the presidency of President Boyuer. Trouillot elucidates this process through a combination of archival sources, foreign reports and accounts and newspapers to demonstrate how the lack of capital, absence of labor and poor economic policies led to Haiti's poverty and underdevelopment. 

First, the decline of the sugar industry. Despite attempts to revive Haiti's sugar production and commercial exports and promote the national industry, through initiatives like the Code Rural and immigration of African Africans, Boyer's Haiti failed on all fronts. A lack of capital plagued Haitian sucreries and the Haitian elite generally, meaning that they did not possess the capital to modernize or improve production or hire skilled workers. This favored the guildives and distilleries instead of sugar, since owners of sucreries were able to turn to producing tafia and rum for the Haitian market. According to Trouillot, this ultimately did not do much for the economy or Haitian social elevation since it favored a disproportionate consumption of alcohol. Boyer's government also helped ruin the sugar industry through tax policies that favored imported liquors and imported sugar. So, despite the Boyer government's purported interest in promoting sugar production, the government ultimately contributed to its demise. The lack of credit or limited amount of credit available to Haitians was an additional burden. 

The remainder of Trouillot's short study focuses on market, fiscal and economic policies of the Boyer years. Plans for a national bank under President Boyer did not succeed while foreigners began to overwhelmingly dominate the national economy. Although, at least on paper, prevented from owning land and, legally, limited to consignment, many of these foreigners (French, Germans, British and Americans) violated Haitian laws and regulations repeatedly. The seeds of frequent foreign involvement in Haitian coups and revolutions can already be seen in the example of Robert Sutherland, who sold arms to both Christophe and Petion during their conflicts. In other ways, the access of foreigners to capital and credit from their home countries and their ability to flout Haitian laws or find willing Haitian allies facilitated their dominance of the economy. In short, most imported goods were under their control and many were able to force or undercut Haitian competitors. Able to set prices that were ultimately passed on to the consumer, these foreigners contributed little to Haiti. Their economic importance for the state, however, could be seen in the data for years available in which recettes from imports paid by foreign consignment merchants, although contraband, speculation and overcharging ensured them a sizable profit in Haiti. Members of the Haitian government and the Haitian elite accommodated themselves to this pattern, using the state and their position or ownership of some land to benefit themselves to whatever extent possible. While some lamented the weakness of national commerce and the lack of economic power for the Haitian elite, they engaged in truly anti-national business or political actions. 

Surprisingly, Trouillot attributes the demise of the Boyer years to opposition from the very same corrupt Haitian elite that was responsible for favoring the stranglehold of foreigners on Haiti's commerce. Some of these familiar names appeared in L'Union in the 1830s and included landowning elite families, such as the Nau. These groups, joined by those in the South by 1843, succeeded in overthrowing Boyer in a movement that received popular support. For Trouillot, these anti-Boyer elites were ravenous and wanted to take advantage of the state for their own economic benefit rather than truly aim for liberal reforms of the economy or policies more favorable to the development of a national bourgeoisie. While this aspect of Trouillot's argument probably requires more evidence, it is interesting to see the way he highlighted the frequent fires that broke out in Port-au-Prince that targeted commercial houses, perhaps an indication of popular discontent and resentment of the foreign-dominated economy and the state that established this. Of course, the 1825 agreement to indemnify France for recognition and the formation of the "double debt" contributed to this downward path for Haiti, which became even more fully enmeshed in the economic imperialism of the Western powers. 

Human Sacrifice among the Aztecs

Although we remain rather ignorant about the Aztecs and Mesoamerican civilizations, we found this detailed video to be quite informative and interesting. The question of human sacrifice is an important one since the scale of it in prehispanic central Mexico was said to have been of epic proportions. Like our ongoing interest in the Incas, their practice of human sacrifice was also used by the Spaniards to justify colonialism. This video helps dispel some of our preconceived notions about the practice and what it actually looked like on the ground.

Compas for Anacaona

Although not the best musical tribute to Anacaona (that honor belongs to "Anacaona" as sung by Cheo Feliciano), it is interesting to hear a compas-styled Haitian song named for the cacica. 

Cacibajagua

 

Although not remarkable musically, it is nice to hear Haitian and Dominican musicians in a collaborative project that commemorates the island's indigenous past.

Shaykhs of the Koyam and the Legacy of Kalumbardo

Family Tree of Koyam Shaykhs

The Koyam and the history of Kalumbardo is an important one in the annals of Borno history as well as that of the Central Sudan. Although the community was important enough to contribute to the origin of the Zinder state's ruling dynasty as well as to the spread of Sufi and Islamic practices across Borno and, perhaps, Wadai and Bagirmi, we unfortunately know too little of the community's history. Besides the oral traditions collected by Landeroin at the beginning of the 20th century and occasional references to Kalumbardo's widely respected shaykh in the 17th century in Maghribi sources, the history of the community remains to be told. Fortunately, what can be gleamed from the history of Sidi al-Baghdadi's movement in the Air desert plus other references to Sufism and asceticism in Kanem-Borno and Sudanic Africa, sheds some light on the history of the Kalumbardo community.

First, it's shadowy origins. While Muhammad Bello described a community called Kalumbardo that was in existence by the time of Umar b. Idris, mai of Borno in the years 1619-1639. Of course, this was not the first center of Sufism in Borno and certainly not the first mallamti or community or fief recognized by the mai's of the Sayfawa. Indeed, according to Rémi Dewière, Sufism of the Shadilya sect was practiced in Borno before the 17th century. Evidence of this was detected in his study of Ahmad b. Furtu's chronicles of mai Idris b. Ali suggests practices close to those of al-Sadili as well as earlier references to ascetics in Kanem during the 14th century. However, the history of Kalumbardo is a better documented history of a community defined, in part, by Sufist practices or influences. 

According to  to Muhammad Bello of the Sokoto Caliphate, this first Kalumbardo community was led by a Shaykh Waldeed and al-Waliyy b. al-Jarmi, a Tuareg. The two, Fulani and Tuareg, were said to have spread Sufism, and the former allegedly had studied in Agadez and Timbuktu. This suggests that the original Kalumbardo community was led by two reputable Sufis with links to Agadez and Timbuktu, prominent centers for Islamic scholarship that had been under Songhay control in the 1500s. Moreover, according to Bello's account, Umar b. Idris had al-Jarmi executed while Waldeel fled to Baghiri. This account of the mai's crackdown on the first Kalumbardo community sounds very similar to Bello's recounting of the end of Shaykh al-Baghdadi in Air. Said to have been killed by the sultan of Agadez at Aghalanga, the conflict was instigated by court-affiliated scholars who urged the sultan to target Shaykh al-Baghdadi. Thus, we may have something of a common literary trope in which a venerated Islamic holyman is martyred by a secular ruler whose court-aligned ulama see in the holyman a threat to their own status and the power of the sultan. Of course, in the case of al-Baghdadi in Air, his status as a sharif added another layer of threat. 

John Lavers, in his article "Diversions on a Journey of the Travels of Shaykh Ahmad al-Yamani," adds further detail to the history of this earlier Kalumbardo. According to him, some traditions remember the Tuareg leader of the first Kalumbardo as al-Jarmiya al-Tarqi as a teacher of Abd al-Karim b. Jame, the first sultan of Wadai. While other traditions claim Wadai's founder had studied at Bidderi in Baghirmi, this location in the Baghirmi kingdom was a settlement associated with the Torobbe Fulani and Islamic scholarship. However, does not necessarily contradict the other tradition associating Wadai's founder with th Tuareg at the first Kalumbardo. After all, the Shaykh Waldeel of Muhammad Bello was said to have escaped Borno for Baghirmi. Thus, this early Kalumbardo community, which probably arose before the reign of Umar b. Idris, enjoyed or later extended itself through its persecution, far links to Agadez, Timbuktu, Bagirmi and Wadai. And to make things even more confusing, it is possible that, according to traditions cited by Lavers, it was Ibrahim b. Idris, a brother who reigned as mai before Umar b. Idris, who had been responsible for destroying the first Kalumbardo community.

What occurred after the dissolution of the first Kalumbardo community, which appears to have lacked the ethnic Koyam affiliation or identification of the second Kalumbardo? We know that, by the 1660s, during the reign of Ali b. Umar of Borno, Kalumbardo was again associated with a venerated Shaykh whose piety, scholarship, and asceticism led to his reputation reaching Sinnar and North Africa. He was, Shaykh Abdullay al-Barnawi, or Abdullay b. And el-Djelil. According to Bobboyi, he was a scion of the Sayfawa dynasty and the first Shaykh of the re-formed Kalumbardo town or settlement, also called Belbelec. While it is said that many mothers of Sayfawa rulers were women from the Koyam, and the Koyam reputation for Islamic scholarship was still respected in the 19th century since Shehu al-Kanemi had apparently studied with them, the exact origins of the Koyam's presence in the northwestern borderlands of the Borno state remain unclear. Indeed, Lovejoy's Salt of the Desert Sun suggests Kawar origins of the Koyam, perhaps a indicating the early Sayfawa dynasty's northern alliances with nomadic populations in medieval times through marriage alliances with women from their clans. This appears to be true, if the Koyam are indeed the same as the Kay mentioned in the Diwan and their links to Kawar and the salt trade suggest their economic importance in Borno. Nonetheless, in the traditions and sources cited by Maikorema Zakari, this Abdullah founded the second Kalumbardo with 40 Koyam during the reign of Ali b. Umar (a mai famous for his piety and support for Islamic scholarship). While the Koyam, a pastoralist sub-group of the Kanuri later split into the Kel Etti and other branches, in the 17th century, under Shaykh al-Barnawi, this particular Koyam community enjoyed great repute. Indeed, the first Shaykh, said to have been born in 1614, was associated with miracles, great learning, and even attempts at social reform with Tuareg and Tubu bandits in the area. This Kalumbardo shaykh was credited with converting many non-Muslims, marrying slave girls and then giving them (with his children by them) to Tuareg and Tubu, and promoting Islamic asceticism among his followers. 

But who was this Abdallah al-Barnawi? According to the Nashr al-Mathani, ultimately relying on the account of Kalumbardo given by Ahmad al-Yamani of Arbaji, al-Barnawi enjoyed mystical powers. He was man man said to have been light in color, tall, possessing middle build and had large eyes. He took a vow of poverty and members of his community often pursued separate areas for retreat, or khalwa. They regrouped for communal prayers and chanting. Shaykh al-Barnawi also appeared to have been a fervent believer in the ability of people to change and respect for life. After all, the same North African sources, Nash al-Mathani includes a brief anecdote of al-Barnawi's anger when a disciple prayed for God to destroy the Tuareg. In addition to his embrace of prayer and medication, al-Barnawi also possessed a thorough knowledge of the Koran, grammar, theology, and other texts. He was said to have read the Alfiya of Ibn Malik on grammar and may have even studied in modern-day Sudan with Dafa 'Allah of Arbaji. If true, this may explain one of the reasons al-Yamani of Arbaji traveled to Kalumbardo in 1671, because its leader had been known in the Funj Sultanate. If so, this suggests far-reaching networks of Islamic scholarship, Sufist practices, and mutual influences between Borno and the Funj Sultanate. Perhaps the Islamization of Wadai and Darfur in the 17th century facilitated this process, as a trade and pilgrimage route that traversed Sudanic Africa was likely of growing importance in this era. In fact, Nashr al-Mathani also mentioned al-Yamani's travels to Air, where he studied under Ahmad al-Targui al-Lamtouni. Similarly, Norris's Sufi Mystics of the Niger Desert also claimed al-Barnawi had studied in or near Agadez with Uwayis, just as Lavers argued that the Tuareg Ahmad as-Sadiq b. Ab. Muhammad Uways had traveled to Arbaji. These far-flung networks connected Borno's Kalumbardo with Air, the Sinnar Sultanate, and North Africa. In this light, it is perhaps of interest that the ascetic practices described by Sufis in Air, the Sinnar Sultanate, and Borno would be interesting to compare, particularly with regards to the khalwa, wird, the role of music, group meditation, fasting, the presence of spirits and beliefs about the sanctity of animal lives.

What was the fate of the second Kalumbardo community? It's shaykh, Abdullah al-Barnawi, was killed by the Tuareg in an attack that occurred in 1677 or 1678. However, before the demise of its leader, the community received support from the mai of Borno. According to Lavers, a qadi named Abu Bakr went to Ali b. Umar, claiming the Kalumfardo leader was plotting a revolt. The shaykh was called to Birni Gazargamo, impressed the mai and then received support as the mai sent artisans to erect brick buildings in his settlement. This must have been part of the town's rise as it received exemption from taxes (which was likely recognized in writing via a mahram, recognizing the community's tax-exempt status) and attracted students, farmers, hunters, traders, and others. If the traditions collected in the Tilho Mission are reliable, Belbelec developed into a town of great extent. Unfortunately, its good fortunes were not to last. Famines and Tuareg attacks culminated in one raid by the Immikitan Tuareg that resulted in the death of the shaykh. Nonetheless, the town would relocate and prosper in Gaskeru, after al-Barnawi's son, Umar, led the community to as far away as Nupe. It was during this era of dispersal after 1678 that one person from the community, remembered as Mallam in the traditions, chose to settle in the area of Zinder or Damagaram and became its first sultan.  

The dispersed Kalumbardo community, led by Umar, eventually returned to Borno, staying at the capital until the mai (a son of Ali b. Umar?) granted Umar's community tax exempted status at Gaskeru. At Gaskeru, the mai allegedly sent 1000 workers for the construction of a mosque and Gaskeru. And, according to the traditions collected for the Tilho Mission, Shaykh Umar reigned with justice, not oppressing the population. In this regiard, one can see shaykh Umar's power as, per Lavers, a theocratic state within Borno that attracted residents through its just ruler and, perhaps, tax-exempt status. Successive shaykhs of the Koyam at Gaskeru began to claim a more political role, appointing disciples as chiefs or imams of areas under their control. The same aforementioned traditions claim the area controlled by the Koyam shaykhs even had 1000 villages under its control. This suggests that the community at Gaskeru became akin to some of the so-called fiefdoms discussed in the works of Muhammad Nur Al-Kali and Ronald Cohen on Borno land tenure and administration. Bakr, or Beker in the French Tilho Mission rendering, a son of Shaykh Mustapha, is remembered as having more loyal supporters than Mai Ali b. al-Hajj Dunama of Borno, whose soldiers abandoned him and let him become wounded in the 1781 invasion of Mandara. Unlike the mai, the Koyam shaykh, who did not personally arm and supply his 1000 followers, was said to have been complimented by the Sayfawa sultan for his devoted followers.

The latter days of Sayfawa rule did lead to troubled times for the Koyam shaykhs, however. Abdullah, the brother of Bakr, faced the Tuareg of Kutus and the Air Tuareg. With the help of the kaigama, Ali, they were able to push the Tuareg back but their forces were massacred when they pushed into Tuareg territory. Then, under Shaykh Ahmadu, the son of Bakr, Gaskeru was attacked and destroyed by the Tuareg. Ahmadu then led the community to Birni Gazargamo, to the Sandaram quarter. Under Shaykh Ibrahim b. Abdullah, they refused to return to Gaskeru and were settled at Zigaba. Another dispersal took place after Goni Mokhar attacked Gazargamo, leading to the flight of the Koyam and Mohammad Aitami becoming the shaykh. Later, after al-Kanemi became the effective ruler of Borno, he acknowledged Muhammad Aitami's tax-free status. This shaykh eventually died in 1835, after which another split among the Koyams and then another reunion under Shaykh Yamiama at Biskour.

While the 2 centuries of so of history of the Koyam is sadly not as documented as the period under its first shaykh, the traditions and other historical references do provide a fascinating overview of a Borno Islamic community linked to Islamic asceticism. By the end of the precolonial era, only a small subset of the Koyam population preserved the ascetic practices of chanting, spiritual retreats and fasting. Nonetheless, its survival over the centuries and its link to other parts of Africa attest to its importance. Not solely as a center for Borno Sufis and as a group who helped protect Borno's northern borders from Tuareg incursions, but as a group which influenced important figures in the annals of Borno's political history, like al-Kanemi, but also contributed to the rise of Wadai and Damagaram. Lastly, the first shaykh, with links to North Africa, Air, and Funj Sultanate, was esteemed enough to be widely venerated across much of Islamic Africa. One only wishes that al-Barnawi or one of his followers had written a text, like the Qudwa, that could tell us in more detail the practices and ideas of such a prominent figure in Borno's history. For instance, was al-Barnawi's community also believed in the presence of spirits in their prayer circles or gatherings? To what extent was al-Baghdadi's movement a model or influence? And were Sufi practices and fuqara villages in the Funj Sultanate, observed by Krump, perhaps similar spaces with some degree of overlap in belief and practice with Kalumbardo and Gaskeru?

Bibliography

Bobboyi, Hamidu. 1992. The ’Ulama of Borno : A Study of the Relations between Scholars and State under the Sayfawa, 1470-1808. Dissertation.

Brenner, Louis. The Shehus of Kukawa: A History of the Al-Kanemi Dynasty of Bornu. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1973.

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

Hassan, Yūsuf Fadl, and Paul Doornbos (editors). 1979. The Central Bilād Al-Sūdān : Tradition and Adaptation : Essays on the Geography and Economic and Political History of the Sudanic Belt : Proceedings of the Third International Conference of the Institute of African and Asian Studies, University of Khartoum, Held from 8 to 13 November 1977. Khartoum: The Institute.

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

Lovejoy, Paul E. Salt of the Desert Sun: A History of Salt Production and Trade in the Central Sudan. Cambridge [Cambridgeshire] ; New York: Cambridge University Press, 1986.

Mission Tilho. Documents Scientifiques De La Mission Tilho. Paris: Imprimerie Nationale, 1910.

Norris, H. T. 1990. Ṣūfī Mystics of the Niger Desert : Sīdī Maḥmūd and the Hermits of Aïr. Oxford England: Clarendon Press.

Usman, Yusufu Bala, and Nur Alkali (editors). 1983. Studies in the History of Pre-Colonial Borno. Zaria: Northern Nigerian Pub. Co.

Vikør, Knut S.The Oasis of Salt: The History of Kawar, a Saharan Centre of Salt Production. Bergen, Norway: Centre for Middle Eastern and Islamic Studies, 1999.

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

Zakari, Maïkorema. Contribution à L'histoire Des Populations De Sud-Est Nigérien: Le Cas Du Mangari (XVIe-XIXe S.). Niamey: Institut de recherches en sciences humaines, 1985.

Le Devenir du Métissage Racial en Haïti

Le Devenir du Métissage Racial en Haïti, a brief essay on racial mixing in Haiti, is too short to be of much substance. However, as an early work of Haitian historian Henock Trouillot, it is interesting for providing insight into how Trouillot viewed race, Haitian culture, and the fate of the nation in 1948. Viewing race broadly as types of human beings not solely defined by pigmentation, the mainly African and French (the Indian mostly disappeared or left little genetic presence in Haiti, although Trouillot cites Jacob to reference the possible survival of pockets of Indians in different parts of Haiti) components in the making of the Haitian people are portrayed as the fundamental racial mixing in Haiti. While most Haitians were and are not "mulattoes" like some of the other Caribbean populations, this broader conception of "race" means that Haitians, the product of so many different types of African and French populations, are a highly mixed population. Indeed, this diversity is even praised as one of the benefits of not having a genetically isolated population. Furthermore, Trouillot's thoughts on Vodou and Creole present a mix of progressive and derogatory views. Creole, in Trouillot's mind, should be used to make the Haitian masses literate and, by extension, elevate the intellectual, social, and economic conditions of Haiti. Vodou, however, is seen as part of the primitive mentality of mysticism. This brings to mind Trouillot's later work on Vodou and the need to modernize Haiti by elevating the Haitian masses culturally. Overall, Trouillot's brief essay is more enlightening for demonstrating how Haitian intellectuals of the 1940s defined race and conceived the Haitian ethnie (though Trouillot adopts a historico-cultural model rather than a strictly bioanthropological methodology). One also sees in Trouillot how some Haitian historians and ethnologists, infused with a nationalist spirit and racial pride, sought to use education and the creation of a national mystique propagated by education and the state, to build a stronger state. One sees the influence of the Griots and Price-Mars here, albeit from a historical perspective. 

Sudanese Sufi Music

Beautiful music from Sudan.

Chrono Trigger Theme

An excellent performance of one of the best songs in the history of JRGPs. Chrono Trigger is one of those classics we have to go back and finish one day...

De Administrando Imperio

De Administrando Imperio is an interesting document. Written by or under the auspices of Constantine VII for his son, it provides a Byzantine imperial perspective on the Empire's foreign policy and how to navigate its sometimes warring and belligerent subjects and neighboring polities. Various peoples, such as Pechenegs, Chazars, Turks, Franks, Bulgars, Slavs, Russians, Arabs and other peoples are the subject of several short chapters on the history of Byzantine relations with said peoples and the foreign policy of the Empire with regard to said peoples. Byzantine diplomacy and clever use of groups like the Pechenegs as a buffer helped to keep the Empire afloat during this era. For instance, securing the friendship of the Pechenegs helped protect the Byzantines from hostile peoples. Part of the Empire's strength and longevity was undoubtedly due to this skillful interaction with various "barbarian" peoples and enemies along the frontiers, using one group against the other or as a buffer. In addition, cultural diplomacy and the use of religion was similarly important, converting groups like the Slavs to Eastern Christianity or bestowing Roman gifts, titles, or houses in Constantinople for vassal or tributary rulers. The Arabs and the threat of Islam is also a subject of chapters, particularly the conflicts with the Abbasids and Ummayads before them, as well as the Islamic attacks on Cyprus, Italy, Anatolia, or the Arab sieges of Constantinople. Muhammad, according to Constantine VII, was an epileptic (an idea borrowed from Theophanes the Confessor) who successfully established a false religion. In addition,  Constantine VII's text makes a reference to black slaves who were paid to the Byzantine Empire under Justinian II, in a treaty with Abimelech. Sadly, there is no other mention of blacks or to sub-Saharan Africans...

Caonabo Tribute

 

Another beautiful music tribute to our caciques. This one, by Yoyito Cabrera, features some amazing percussion and a catchy chorus.

Krump in the Sinnar Sultanate

Spaulding's translation of Krump's journal, or at least the sections relevant to Sudan, translated as The Sudanese Travels of Theodoro Krump, is a short but important source on the Funj Sultanate at the beginning of the 18th century. Traveling as part of a mission to Ethiopia, some of the Jesuits and Franciscans who joined a caravan from Egypt to the south became trapped in Sinnar due to illness or, like Krump, served as a physician to the sultan of Sinnar. Although less detailed than one would like on the intricacies of the sultanate and its capital city, Krump's narrative provides the reader with a sense of the kingdom's economic purpose. Indeed, despite the frequent threat of Arab bandits and rebels against the sultanate attacking caravans traveling from Egypt, Krump considered Sinnar to be a wealthy city and one of the major trading emporiums of Africa. Goods and people arrived from Egypt, across the Red Sea, India, Ethiopia, Fezzan, and Borno, and Krump's time in the capital led him to meet Greeks, Portuguese, Turks, Abyssinians, Copts, and others in the cosmopolitan capital. This is impressive, considering what Krump saw as the insecure trade routes and the, to put it lightly, challenging or disloyal behavior of some of the vassal rulers to the Funj. 

Krump's narrative also provides the reader with a sense of the political and social conditions in the Sinnar Sultanate. For instance, Christianity, though no longer practiced, could be seen with the ruins of a monastery and churches. At one site, locals informed Krump that the population practiced Christianity as recently as 100 years ago, which is perhaps inaccurate if Christianity disappeared earlier in the 1500s. In addition, the fact that much of the population wore little clothing and already elites and vassal rulers relied on slave soldiers suggests the Sinnar Sultanate was a society in which, perhaps, adherence to Islam among the general population was not strict and it was easier for rulers to trust slaves. However, Krump did witness at least two villages of fuqara, villages or towns in which a Muslim scholar or holyman received immunity from the state. This has been proven by the land grants or charters issued by the Funj, yet one wishes Krump told us more about how these functioned. Of course, as a Catholic missionary who saw Islam as a false religion, he naturally was not interested in reporting on every detail of the Islamic society he was visiting. Nonetheless, his description of a jellab killing his sister for living an immodest life and what appears to have been a Sufi practice of chanting and prayer, particularly population with members of the caravan from Borno and the Fezzan, suggests Sufist practices were already widespread. Those from Borno and the Fezzan, however, were described as using a round bow covered with a skin under strong tension, which was then used to produce various tones of loud sounds. These are accompanied with singing and jumping in what was likely a Sufi or mystical Islamic practice? A look at the Sufist practices in Borno, the Fezzan, and Sinnar might lead one to see an early instance of Sufist practices connecting the the regions, particularly as we know that in the 17th century a native of the Funj Sultanate traveled to Borno's Sufist community at Kalumbardo.

Unfortunately, Krump is less useful for the particularities of Sinnar's relations with other Sudanic kingdoms. Ethiopia, whose conquest of Fazughli was only achieved about 15 years previously, plus frequent trade and communication between Sinnar and Gondar, made it the most frequently mentioned African kingdom in communication with Sinnar. However, the allusion to people from Borno and the Fezzan in Krump's caravan suggests that connections to lands to the west were also relevant. While the particular Fezzani and Bornoan travelers met by Krump may have come to the Sudan from Egypt, other sources suggest a route from the west, one that must have traversed Waday and Darfur, was already in use. Sadly, Krump's account tells us little about those western connections, which must have been of gradually increasing importance due to the establishment of Muslim sultanates in Darfur and Waday. 

1514 Repartimiento and Cacica Catalina de Mayama

Although our descent from a man said to be of converso origins is through the Delgado Manso of Puerto Rico, he came to Hispaniola in 1514. The son of Diego Guillen and Mayor Gutierrez, he apparently, he enjoyed connections at court and was promised an encomienda. However, in the 1514 Repartimiento in the island, his name appears as one of the vecinos of Santo Domingo who received, in encomienda, 30 service Indians from the cacica Catalina of Mayama. In addition, ten naborias de casa were also assigned to Guillen. However, the same cacica Catalina de Mayama was also assigned to Gomez Diaz, which, if true, meant that Guillen had to share the 30 or so Indians with another vecino.

Guillen's daughter, Isabel, stayed on the island of Hispaniola. She married a Gonzalo de Guzman who first came to Hispaniola in 1502, with Ovando. However, Guzman had married Isabel with the expectation of a large dowry and access to more encomienda Indian labor. This did not materialize, although it does appear that Isabel father did indeed receive some Indians in the 1514 Repartimiento. According to Ida Altman, the daughter Isabel Malaber (Maraver) was the head of a poor household in the 1530s after her husband died. Her elderly father, Juan Guillen, was still alive, but the household also included mestizas, black slaves and an old Indian naboria women.

Although Altman believed Isabel Maraver possibly ended her days as a poor widow, it turns out she married a second time with Francisco Ruiz de Oviedo. References to her and this second husband can be found in Historia y Geografía Cuentas de las Cajas Reales de Santo Domingo 1544-1549. Now, our descent from Juan Guillen is via another daughter, Eufrasia Maraver. She came to Hispaniola in 1514 with her parents, but ended up in Puerto Rico as the wife of a Pedro Espinosa. According to research in the archives by Luis Burset Flores, the Delgado Manso family were descendants of Eufrasia Maraver through the Manso. Indeed, in 1568, a chubby Spanish soldier, Francisco Delgado, married Juana Manso de Espinosa, daughter of Alonso Díaz Manso and Isabel de Espinosa. Isabel de Espinosa, according to the sources cited by Burset Flores, was the daughter of Eufrasia Maraver, a child of Juan Guillen and Maria de Maraver.

Our descent from the Delgado Manso is actually the result of a descendant of this family marrying a woman of color in 1727. And while we are more interested in the African and indigenous contributions to the making of the Caribbean, it reveal how the events and places in the early Spanish Caribbean directly involved our ancestors, who came from all social classes. Some of our forebears, for instance, were living on Hispaniola during Enrique's revolt. Some, such as the father of Eufrasia Maraver, were apparently recipients of encomiendas in Hispaniola. Who was the cacica Catalina of Mayama? Presumably located somewhere not too far from Santo Domingo, what happened to the Indians? Were some of them among the mestizas and the old naboria living in Isabel Maraver's household in 1531? Was the cacica Catalina someone exercizing the position of cacica before the Spanish conquest or was her rise to power a result of the brutal Spanish invasion?