A Tentative Study of the Reign of Muhammad b. al-Hajj Hamdun (1729-1744)

         Mai Muhammad b. al-Hajj Hamdun, who likely reigned in 1729-1744, was one of the last successful Sayfawa monarchs of the 18^th century. During the Late Sayfawa Period, the dynasty that ruled Borno gradually withered with the loss of Bilma. Even more, Wadai’s expansion into eastern Kanem, the autonomy of the Bedde, and Bagirmi’s attacks against the Kotoko states and southern Borno during the reign of mbang Muhammad al-Amin also occurred in this late 18^th century decline. Naturally, tensions between Borno and Mandara continued as well, with disastrous consequences for Borno during the reign of Ali b. al-Hajj Dunama. Nonetheless, until the fall of Gazargamo in 1808, the Sayfawa remained powerful and likely possessed a spiritual stature or authority unequalled in the Central Sudan. Yet before that decline of the second half of the 18^th century, some of the last maiwa endeavored to reassert Borno’s political and economic dominance. Muhammad b. al-Hajj Hamdun represents such a ruler, and although his reign is poorly documented, glimpses of his attempts to restore Borno’s hegemony can be found. After a brief overview of the extant sources, this article shall review Muhammad b. al-Hajj Hamdun’s policy with regard to Hausaland, the question of relations with Mandara and Bagirmi, and an overview of domestic affairs within Borno. Undoubtedly, Muhammad b. al-Hajj Hamdun represents one of the last assertive Sayfawa rulers, whose reign complicates narratives of 18th-century Bornoan decline and political disengagement.

Discussing the Sources

            In terms of source material, the lack of a surviving chronicle severely limits one’s efforts to reevaluate the reign of Muhammad b. al-Hajj Hamdun. Nonetheless, an assortment of oral sources and written sources provide enough clues for a tentative overview. First, the Diwan. Essentially a list of the various rulers of the Sayfawa maiwa with brief details on their reign, the Diwan aids in establishing an approximate timeline for the Sayfawa rulers.[1] In addition, the Kano Chronicle briefly alludes to an attack on the Kano kingdom by Borno during the reign of Muhammad b. al-Hajj Hamdun. Besides identifying the Sarkin Bornu as Ali, the chronicle’s erroneous description of the campaign is contradicted by Bornoan oral sources which establish that it was not Ali who attacked Kano in the 1730s.[2]

A third written source, a rihla copied in the mid-19^th century, presents a number of problems. The manuscript was found in the library of Shaikh Abu Bakr al-Miskin, and supposedly written by his grandfather, Muhammad b. Ali b. Dunama b. Ali b. Umar b. Idris.[3] It is supposedly a description of the hajj of Ali b. Umar. But the year given for this undertaking, 1727-8, and the description of the reign of about 15 years that followed, are more applicable for Muhammad b. al-Hajj Hamdun. Is it possible that this source is about the hajj of Muhammad b. al-Hajj Hamdun but changed to be about Ali b. Umar due to the latter’s renown?[4]

Besides the aforementioned written sources, a number of oral sources exist. One of the most important, a Kanuri praise song translated by J.R. Patterson in Kanuri Songs, is particularly conspicuous. Given the genre and its conventions, one cannot expect a song that is necessarily historically accurate. Yet it speaks to a type of court praise singing and ethos that very much emphasized military valor and power. In addition, studies of the history of the Central Sudan based on oral sources supplement the meager textual ones. For instance, H.R. Palmer’s Sudanese Memoirs contains a short chapter on Muhammad Hajimi and the Masbarma that alludes to the Kano campaign.[5] Likewise, a girgam translated in Palmer’s Bornu Sahara and Sudan refers to Muhammad as the “lord of Lergam the Black Prince with the white mouth-veil.”[6] This supports the identification of the builder of the elite brick building at Lergam with Muhammad b. al-Hajj Hamdun, a tradition cited by Seidensticker.[7]

Unsurprisingly, a number of 19^th century, colonial-era reports and works by 20^th century scholars drawing on oral sources for the history of Hausaland, Bagirmi and Kanem refer to relations with Borno in the first half of the 18^th century. Furthermore, M.G. Smith, Hogben and Kirk-Greene provide useful clues on Kano and Hausaland during this period while Lavers, Nachtigal, and H. Lanier’s syntheses of Bagirmi history assist in reconstructing Bagirmi’s relationship with Borno. Great caution must be used with such material, particularly as later scholars sometimes regurgitated information from colonial-era scholars who hardly cited their sources. For instance, Lavers has uncritically repeated H.R. Palmer for the theory of a Mandara campaign of Ali b. Umar during the 1650s. When one checks Palmer, however, there is no sourcing to determine where he found this information![8]

Overall, the sources for the reign of Muhammad b. al-Hajj Hamdun are hardly adequate, but sufficient for a tentative overview. Doing so allows one insights into the nature of Sayfawa statecraft and relations in a dynamic 18^th century world. The Sayfawa maiwa were hardly the indolent sovereigns only engaged in Islamic study or ritual seclusion in this time.

Borno, Kano, and Hausaland, c. 1729-1744

            Perhaps the best documented action of the mai was his attack on Kano, which may have taken place in 1734 (it coincided with a solar eclipse). Kano had previously been the subject of a campaign during the reign of Idris b. Ali in the 16^th century. At the time, Kano’s actions of fortifying settlements near Borno’s frontier were seen as a threat. For perhaps equivalent reasons, Borno’s Muhammad b. al-Hajj Hamdun also attacked the powerful Hausa kingdom. In this campaign, probably in the 1730s, the Kano Chronicle reports that “May Ali” came to make war on Kano during the reign of Sarkin Kano Kumbari (1731-1743). The Bornoan forces allegedly camped at Faggi for 3 nights without fighting due to the intervention of Shehu Tahiru and Shehu Bunduu.[9] Apparently, one of the mallams, Shehu Attahiru, who persuaded the mai to leave was an ancestor of the emir of Kano.[10] Unfortunately, this chronicle does not elucidate why the conflict arose in the first place, but it emphasizes the role of highly respected Islamic leaders in bringing peace.

Despite the chronicle suggesting a rather brief Bornoan siege, other sources suggest a far longer campaign. For example, tradition reported in Palmer’s Sudanese Memoirs suggests that the mai was in the Kano state for 7 months.[11] Indeed, the mai attacked but did not prevail “until the appointed time came.” If the campaign lasted at least 7 months and the mai eventually prevailed, then Borno may have been able to successfully restore its position of dominance over Kano, albeit likely only with some form of tribute or vassal status for Kano’s sarki. In terms of why the conflict arose in the first place, Lavers has proposed that Kano was attacked to prevent it from importing guns and upsetting the regional balance of power.[12] While plausible, there is no evidence for this in our surviving sources. Other scholars emphasize internal dynamics within Kano. Thus, the Gaya, whose influence in Kano affairs was great during the reign of Sarkin Kano Sharifa and Kumbari, played a role. Moreover, new towns and walls around several in the eastern domain of Kano, such as Takai, Tsokuwa, and Rano implied the closing of the frontier with ribats. The newer towns constructed in this era often followed a uniform plan, suggestive of state or official planning. They were often built in the open plain while others, at major crossroads for trade, became administrative centers for taxation and cheap labor for Sharifa and Kumbari.[13] Thus, it is possible that Borno’s intervention in Kano was due to the latter’s operations along its eastern frontier and the creation of fortified settlements. This theory is more persuasive than that of the firearms in Kano, although the two are not mutually exclusive. Consequently, Borno’s response was likely motivated by increased attempts at centralization by Kano’s rulers as well as ensuring Kano’s access to firearms did not upset the regional balance of power.

But what was accomplished by Borno’s intervention in Kano in c. 1734? According to some sources, the conflict with Kano likely reverberated across Hausaland with Bornoan intervention beyond. Although the Kano Chronicle does not report the outcome, other sources highly affirm the notion of Borno’s ruler reestablishing Kano as a vassal state (even if only symbolic).[14] The Gazetteer of Kano Province reports that the mai  had issued an ultimatum to Kano: he would burn the city unless tribute was paid.[15] Others suggest that Borno overran other parts of Hausaland at this time, too. Although corroborating evidence is lacking, Hogben and Kirk-Greene wrote of the many Kanuri links in Zaria. For instance, the office of Limamin Kona was reserved to a family of Borno origin. Other Bornoan emissaries or officials in Zaria could potentially be linked to this episode, such as the Madalla.[16] Another source, the Abuja Chronicle, dates the Beriberi (Kanuri) of Borno attacking Hausaland to 1734, with Zaria paying tribute to Borno.[17] Other evidence for this is lacking, but it is certainly possible that Borno’s actions in Kano in c. 1734 also impacted Zaria and other Hausa states, particularly in the reassertion of a claim by Borno to regional hegemony. To what extent Borno may have also used Gobir to influence events in Hausaland is unclear, but Gobir during the reign of Babari (c. 1741-69?) attacked Bornoan territory at Shirra.[18] Ultimately, a resurgence of Bornoan claims to regional supremacy and tribute may have been won from Kano and Zaria during the c. 1734 campaign of Muhammad b. al-Hajj Hamdun.

Mandara, Bagirmi and the East

In addition to the Kano campaign, which appears to have been a success, Borno’s relations with Bagirmi during this time appear favorable for the former. Bagirmi was forced to submit to the authority of Borno during the reign of mbang Lahoual (or Alahouine). In the words of H. Lanier, “En 1741, attaqué par le sultan de Bornou, il fut vaincu et dut se soumettre à la souveraineté de ce pays.” [19] Although Bagirmi was able to throw off the yoke of Borno during the reign of Hadji (dated c. 1741-1784 by Lanier) and end Borno’s claims to sovereignty of the kingdom, Muhammad b. al-Hajj Hamdun was apparently successful in Bagirmi. Likewise, the rihla mentions Bagirmi as one area where the Sayfawa mai traveled on the pilgrimage. If the problematic source is incorrectly attributing the hajj along the Sudan Road to Ali b. Umar but actually describing a pilgrimage of Muhammad b. al-Hajj Hamdun, then Bagirmi was allegedly one of the areas where the Sayfawa ruler settled 5000 captives in 1727/8.[20] This act of establishing settlements in Bagirmi could be partly motivated by a desire to facilitate travel for pilgrims using the Sudan Road in the 18^th century. Furthermore, it also served to emphasize the power of the Sayfawa ruler whose act of establishing towns or villages in other kingdoms was an assertion of Borno’s influence and power in the Central Sudan.

Naturally, the highly problematic account of the 1727/8 pilgrimage must be interpreted very carefully. But it is consistent with the actions of the Sayfawa in the first half of the 18^th century who may have successfully imposed tributary relations on Bagirmi. In fact, it may also have been during the reign of Muhammad b. al-Hajj Hamdun that the “Kurata” or Tunjur Arabs in Kanem sent their leader to Borno for confirmation of his position. This may explain why the praise song to this mai names the Kurata among the captives of the mai.[21] The actions of the Sayfawa mai in Bagirmi are perhaps to be expected with similar developments in Kanem which may have included greater control of the Tunjur in Kanem who usually resisted the alifa at Mao.[22] In short, Borno may have succeeded in establishing firmer control of Kanem (which was to become a major battleground in the 19^th century) as well as imposed tribute on Bagirmi whilst protecting its influence over various polities south of Lake Chad.

Besides Bagirmi and the eastern shores of Lake Chad, Mandara was also another arena of conflict for Borno. The previously mentioned Rihla even claims “Ali b. Umar” (although the dates used in the document align with Muhammad b. al-Hajj Hamdun) died in Krowrowa, which appears to be Kerawa, once a capital of Mandara. This problematic source asserts, “He raided Krowrowa and died there in Krowrowa where his grave is visited.”[23] This is contradicted by the Diwan, which indicates that Muhammad b. al-Hajj Hamdun died in Gazargamo.[24] In spite of these contradictions and inaccuracies, the text does seem to be accurate in referring to conflict with Mandara during the first half of the 18^th century, before Ali b. al-Hajj Dunama’s disastrous campaign in the 1780s. According to Barkindo, the Islamization of Mandara in the early 1700s was supported by Borno. In fact, Dunama b. Ali (c. 1696-1715) was said to have sent Islamic scholars to Mandara. Tradition in Mora of Mandara’s conversion to Islam during the reign of Bukar Aji (who reigned c. 1715-1737) even suggests he grew up in Borno and was sent to Mandara after Borno had the previous ruler killed. Interestingly, Bukar Aji is also said to have taken the title of mai and remodelled his court on that of Borno. Tradition also asserts that Bukar Aji and his successor sent regular gifts of tribute to Borno. Even Hamdun b. Dunama reciprocated, sending a personal Quran to Bukar Aji.[25]

Yet despite Borno’s role in the ascent of Mandara’s first Muslim king, occasional conflict occurred. To Lavers, serious trouble with Mandara occurred during the reigns of al-Hajj Hamdun b. Dunama and Muhammad b. Hamdun, who both fought Mandara.[26] It would seem that Mandara’s allegiance to Borno depended on the proximity of Borno’s army. So even the spiritual authority or stature of the Sayfawa and the renown some maiwa achieved as pious figures was not sufficient to ensure the loyalty of Mandara. In this case, Mandara’s now Muslim kings were likely eager to benefit from expansion and raiding, when possible, the vulnerable tributary polities of Borno. Though it does not seem likely that Hamdun b. Dunama or Muhammad b. al-Hajj Hamdun died in a war with Mandara, the existence of conflict between the two states points to a problem which only grew during the reign of Ali b. al-Hajj Dunama. But for now, Borno was able to meet the challenge, at least based on available evidence. Moreover, the period of Aji Bukar and Madi Makiya’s reigns, c. 1715-1751, also coincided with the immigration of Bornoan settlers in Mandara. Their presence also necessitated the assertion of Sayfawa rule or authority that may have caused conflict with Mandara’s kings who saw these settlers as their subjects.[27] But, Mandara’s kings accepted Borno’s right to tax many towns in the northern part of its domains until c. 1751 and Borno continued to raid parts of Mandara despite receiving gifts and tribute from Aji Bukar and Madi Makiyya, the latter possibly the son of a Kanuri woman.[28] This level of Bornoan influence in the affairs of Mandara may have also been motivated by the interests of the Bornoan elite to expand and protect their influence in the south while the north was challenged by population movements due to prolonged drought and climate change.

Internal Dynamics in Borno

In terms of internal affairs and domestic concerns, the reign of Muhammad b. al-Hajj Hamdun was challenged by ecological shifts, migration, and famine. Indeed, a famine that persisted for 2 years occurred during his reign.[29] The last several years of his reign coincided with a drought that lasted from 1738-1753. Due to this period of long-lasting drought, various groups such as the Jetko, Tubu, Tuareg, Koyam, and Fulani migrated to more fertile lands, thereby increasing the chances for conflict over scarce resources in difficult times.[30] Despite these challenges, Borno was still in control of Bilma. The Bedde, however, were beginning to act autonomously in the 18^th century and disrupt caravan routes.

In the face of these challenges, the Bornoan state was still able to continue past Sayfawa practices such as the sponsoring of elite brick structures. At the site of Lergam, for instance, Muhammad b. al-Hajj Hamdun is remembered for sponsoring the construction of a brick building for what was likely a palace enclosure. According to Wilhelm Seidensticker, “The name of the founder of the palace was given as Mohammed Ajimi, who can be considered identical with Muhammad b. al-Haji Hamdun (ca. 1731-1747).”[31] Located 31 kilometers west of Geidam and on the northern banks of the Komadugu Yobe, today the site lacks any visible evidence of bricks except for a few from what was presumably the wall of the palace enclosure. Magnavita also described the site of Lergam, reporting that Lergam was also known as Kirishadam, referring to the largest refuse mound. Although the area was only an estimated 250 by 250 meters, Lergam appears to have been built by the mai as a temporary residence.[32] Like Gambaru built in the 16^th century, Lergam indicates that a Sayfawa ruler was still able to support elite architecture using brick well into the 1700s.

 Likewise, Muhammad b. al-Hajj Hamdun also supported the creation of new towns or settlements, including Kurnawa or Dalaturi. Kurnawa, according to J.R. Patterson’s Borsari District Assessment Report, was founded by a Mandara slave named Haji Amadu. This Mandara captive of the Borno mai, Momadu Haji, was given his freedom upon his return from Mecca. Subsequently, he left Birni Gazargamo and founded Kurnawa with his followers. His descendants later ruled the town.[33] This act demonstrates the role of the Sayfawa and their captives or dependents in the administration and the creation of new settlements. The praise song to this mai also emphasizes his power to redistribute and relocate people:

You son of Aji, can collect or disperse people at your will

And turn again, and make a town (with those you have dispersed)

You are the scourge of Jillam, Dalla Darge and Dakkinam Dalla Damaram

Some towns are founded during the cold season of the year

But some of yours have been founded as the result of your victories, Aji Gana the Intriguer[34]

 

Many of these places are difficult to identify, but the implication is rather clear: the mai possessed great authority through the control of people, including the relocation of dependents or subjects to create new towns. Additionally, he was able to found towns through his military victories. Since the conventions of the praise song may lead to exaggeration, one must use this type of material very cautiously. Even though the general image of the authority of the maiwa in this period is supported by conflict with Mandara (possibly related to Bornoan settlers in parts of Mandara), the possible settlement of slaves in parts of Bagirmi and Wadai, and the creation of Kurnawa as a prosperous town.

            Finally, the domestic religious policies and political choices made by Muhammad b. al-Hajj Hamdun were also significant. He was the first mai to invite Shaykh Tahir b. Ibrahim to Gazargamo. This shaykh later played a prominent role in Borno during the reign of Ali b. al-Hajj Dunama (r. 1747-1792). His father, Hamdun, was also remembered as a scholar in Borno tradition who had studied at al-Azhar in Cairo.[35] Hamdun was also said to have written 12 copies of the Quran and placed himself in ritual seclusion.[36] His son, whose pilgrimage to Mecca is still up for debate, may have been similarly pious but was also more likely to have engaged in military campaigns. Yet he also included respected Muslim leaders such as a Masbarma in his retinue during the c. 1734 campaign against Kano. He also listened to Kano mallams to end that conflict, again suggestive of how essential Islam was to state ideology and administrative practices of the Sayfawa court. He likely benefitted from the caliphal status of the Sayfawa whose pious sanctity was acknowledged widely, while also simultaneously endeavoring to recover or restore Borno’s economic and political hegemony.

Conclusion

Despite the paucity of written sources that directly speak to the reign of Muhammad b. al-Hajj Hamdun, enough material exists to reconsider this reign. Whilst the Late Sayfawa Period unquestionably included decline, it is very misleading or inaccurate to portray the last century of effective Sayfawa rule as merely one of indolent or secluded maiwa who passively responded to the changing political, economic, intellectual and ecological landscapes. Through the Kano campaign in the 1730s, interventions in Mandara and Bagirmi, the possible support for the Sudan Road for pilgrims, Borno remained a significant contender in the region. Similarly, the sponsoring of new towns and brick architecture as an expression of elite authority reveal the strength of Borno’s ruling dynasty. In other words, all was not immediately lost for the Sayfawa maiwa until the second half of the 18^th century. Undeniably, the prolonged drought and population movements from 1738-1753 and the burgeoning power of the Kel Ewey in Kawar, as well as favorable shifts in power relations that benefitted Mandara, Bagirmi, and Wadai eventually did weaken Borno’s claims to regional hegemony. Yet assertive and dynamic leaders did exist in the 18^th century. The reign of Muhammad b. al-Hajj Hamdun, poorly documented as it is, illustrates this dynamic leadership of the Late Sayfawa Period.

---

[1] Dierk Lange, whose masterful study of this source remains unsurpassed, has illustrated how it can be corroborated by a number of external and internal sources on the history of Kanem and Borno. Whether or not the form that survives is an abbreviated version of a much longer chronicle is unknown, but it at least helps in constructing a mostly accurate timeline for the political history of the Sayfawa maiwa.

[2] The Kano Chronicle is hardly free of anachronisms, inaccuracies, omissions, or additional textual problems. There is a great danger in relying too heavily on it to reconstruct the history of Kano and Hausaland, but it can also be corroborated by various external sources that are suggestive of an at least generally accurate chronology.

[3] See Behique Dunama, “A Sayfawa Hajj in c. 1728” for an early attempt at reconciling this source with the mainstream of historical sources on the Sayfawa, https://thedreamvariation.blogspot.com/2025/09/a-sayfawa-hajj-in-c1728.html.

[4] This source requires much deeper textual analysis and a new translation. It may also refer to an attack on Kerawa, a capital of Mandara, that could have taken place during the reign of Ali b. Umar, Dunama b. Ali, or al-Hajj Hamdun b. Dunama. It problematically refers to the Sudan in a seemingly modern way, too.

[5] It is not always clear from where and by whom H.R. Palmer derived his information. Nonetheless, the tradition strongly supports the identification of the Sayfawa mai who attacked Kano in the 1730s or so with Muhammad b. al-Hajj Hamdun.

[6] H.R. Palmer, Bornu Sahara and Sudan, 253.

[7] Wilhelm Seidensticker, “Borno and the East: Notes and Hypotheses on the Technology of Burnt Bricks” in Nilo-Saharan. Proceedings of the First Nilo-Saharan Linguistics Colloquium, Leiden September 8–10, 242.

[8] This specific example refers to a problematic passage in H.R. Palmer’s Bornu Sahara and Sudan. In describing Ali b. Umar’s campaign against the Tuareg of Air, Palmer adds narrative elaboration in which a Kel Etti woman sought Ali b. Umar’s aid at the same time he was in the midst of a Mandara campaign. See Bornu Sahara and Sudan, 247.

[9] H.R. Palmer, “Kano Chronicle,” 90.

[10] W.F. Gowers, Gazetteer of Kano Province, 10. Without elucidating his evidence, Louis Brenner has argued that Shehu Tahir was Muhammad b. al-Tahir b. Ibrahim al-Fallati, a known Fulbe scholar in Borno. See “Three Fulbe Scholars in Borno,” 107.

[11] H.R. Palmer, Sudanese Memoirs II, 111.

[12] John Lavers, “Kanem and Borno to 1808” in Groundwork of Nigerian History, 203.

[13] Murray Last, “From Sultanate to Caliphate: Kano c. 1450-1800” in Studies in the History of Kano, 83-84.

[14] See M.G. Smith, Government in Kano, 1350-1950.

[15] W.F. Gowers, Gazetteer of Kano Province, 9.

[16] Kirk-Greene & Hogben, The Emirates of Northern Nigeria: The Emirates of Northern Nigeria: A Preliminary Survey of Their Historical Traditions, 219.

[17] Alhaji Hassan and Shuaibu Na’ibi, Abuja Chronicle, 14.

[18] Shaykh Dan Tafa, Rawdat’l-Afkaar.

[19] H. Lanier, “L’ancien royaume du Baguirmi,” Bulletin du Comité de l'Afrique française No. 10 (1925), 460-461.

[20] Omer El-Nagar, West Africa and the Muslim Pilgrimage, 397.

[21] “The Kurata Arabs in the Kanem towns are your slaves.” H.R. Palmer, Bornu Sahara and Sudan, 254.

[22] For an admittedly speculative look at this period, see Behique Dunama, “Siècles Obscurs: The Alifas of Kanem and the Tunjur in the 17th and 18th Centuries” https://thedreamvariation.blogspot.com/2025/11/siecles-obscurs-alifas-of-kanem-and.html.

[23] Omer El-Nagar, West Africa and the Muslim Pilgrimage: An historical study with special reference to the nineteenth century, 399.

[24] Dierk Lange, Le Diwan des sultans du Kanem-Bornu : chronologie et histoire d'un royaume africain (de la fin du Xe siècle jusqu'à 1808), 82.

[25] Bawuro Barkindo, The Sultanate of Mandara to 1902: History of the Evolution, Development and Collapse of a Central Sudanese Kingdom, 132-134, 145.

[26] John Lavers, “Kanem and Borno to 1808,” 203.

[27] Bawuro Barkindo, The Sultanate of Mandara to 1902, 145.

[28] On the possible Kanuri parentage of Madi Makiya, see H.R. Palmer, Sudanese Memoirs II, 98.

[29] Dierk Lange, Le Diwan, 82.

[30] For an overview of this period and the impact of the prolonged drought, see Muhammad Nur Alkali, Kanem-Borno Under the Sayfawa: A study of Origin, Growth and Collapse of a Dynasty.

[31] Wilhelm Seidensticker, “Borno and the East: Notes and Hypotheses on the Technology of Burnt Bricks,” 242.

[32] Carlos Magnavita, “Short report of a visit to the archaeological sites of Lergam and Garu Kime, Geidam L.G.A., Yobe State of Nigeria,” Borno Museum Society Newsletter 76.

[33] J.R. Patterson, “Assessment Report on Borsari District, Bornu Emirate, Bornu Province” (1918).

[34] H.R. Palmer, Bornu Sahara and Sudan, 254.

[35] Hamidu Bobboyi, The 'Ulama of Borno: A Study of the Relations between Scholars and State under the Sayfawa, 1470-1808, 22, 29.

[36] Muhammad Nur Alkali, Kanem-Borno Under the Sayfawa: A study of Origin, Growth and Collapse of a Dynasty, 299. 

Death Among the Undead

In our ongoing quest to read Japanese mystery or detective fiction, we finally caught up to the hyped Death Among the Undead. A succcessful fusion of the zombie/horror tale with a locked room murder mystery, the novel brought back fond memories of Isaac Asimov's successful fusion of mystery and science fiction. Here, of course, the reader is given a treat of a tale involving a zombie outbreak caused by a renegade researcher who targets a summer rock festival near Lake Sabea. Things spiral quickly out of control as the two members of a university's "Mystery Society" club are trapped with a number of other students, alumni and the villa manager of a country estate near the zombie outbreak. One member of this party then decides to take advantage of the zombies besieging the building to murder a few people in the group.

Needless to say, this novel succeeds by successfully bringing in suspense from the zombies gradually breaking through the steel doors and the serial murders taking place within the barricaded part of the villa. It also helps the reader with one member of the group having an encyclopedic knowledge of zombies via a film obsession with zombie apocalypse films. Indeed, we were not expecting that academic turn which even correctly traced the zombie film genre's origins back to Haiti and White Zombie. But here it all serves the purpose of establishing the 'rules' for zombie behavior so that their actions can be used to help interpret the killings and who/what orchestrated them. Likewise, Hamura, our narrator, elucidates to the "real" student detective, Hiruko, the conventions of the locked room mystery novel in a way that it useful for readers. It may seem pedantic at first, yet it actually shows that the author was perhaps trying to show that he was respecting both mystery and horror as genre fiction.

Overall, it is done quite well with a few red-herrings that initialliy scared us, particularly since we feared that the novel was going to follow an old trope established by Agatha Christie nearly 100 years ago. Fortunately, we were pleasantly surprised by the revelation of the murderer's identity and methods. The novel also pays homage, at least from what we could tell, to The Decagon House and the history of the locked room mystery in Japan. In fact, Akechi's character was reminiscent of one of the better (and more annoying!) students in the classic Yukito Ayatsuji mystery. One only wishes that Death Among the Undead utilized the notebook found by Shigemoto more thoroughly to make the forces responsible for the bioterrorist attack causing the zombie outbreak more interesting or less peripheral. That must have been put aside for a sequel, but it struck us as strange how marginal the notebook turned out to be in this case. Even with the use of scientific jargon or words from other languages, one would think that a group of university students might have been able to get more out of the notebook...

Invisible Helix

We found Invisible Helix to be somewhat similar to the final Kaga novel. Both rely heavily on themes of mother-child relationships, abandoned children, and "messy" revelations about the background of their sleuths. In this case, however, there is a layer of deception added to one of relationships that leads Yukawa to intervene in the case for his own reasons. There wasn't too much of a mystery in the case involving the murder, but it was actually endearing to see some of the personal and admirable traits of Yukawa. Readers also glimpsed that side of his character in his willingness to teach a child about science and his involvement in that case, or even his involvement in the murder in Silent Parade. It was likewise endearing to see Kusanagi learn more about Yukawa's family. The two seemed to have become friendlier again, with even Utsumi also seeming closer than usual to Yukawa. 

Maracatu Atomico

Although the Gil Gilberto version of "Maracatu Atomico" is funkier, the original recording is actually quite good, too. The use of the violin with this funky number actually works rather well. 

Silent Parade

Keigo Higashino's Silent Parade was full of the plot twists and suspense one expects from the mystery genre, but is a more meandering effort than usual. It was perhaps extended for an extra 50 or so pages longer than necessary, although this case has a more meaningful resolution than A Mid-Summer Equation. Anyway, this time Yukawa, or Detective Galileo, has returned from the United States and is working out of a Tokyo neighborhood or suburb called Kikuno. Whilst there, he reconnects with his old friend, Kusanagi, and his subordinate, Utsumi. As we all know, Yukawa gets dragged into yet another case. This time, it involves a remarkable criminal whose refusal to speak allows him to get away with murder on two occasions. Although this requires suspension of disbelief to accept (but Japanese criminal law is perhaps quite different here), the killer, Hasunuma, eventually becomes a murder victim himself. The identity of the killers is not quite a mystery here, but rather the question of how the murder was done and by whom in a large group leads to some surprising revelations! Throughout his involvement int he case, Yukawa actually became, to some extent, part of the Kikuno community. As a regular at the Namiki-ya restaurant run by the family of one of Hasunuma's victims, one begins to appreciate Yukawa's community involvement and his unique sense of justice. For fans of the series, Yukawa even refers to one of his earlier cases in which he helped Kusanagi close another baffling case. This shows what may be some kind of emotional growth in Yukawa whose presence in the community of Kukuno shows another side.

Speculating on a Medieval Jewish Population in Mali

Songhay at the time of Sonni Ali Ber, in Adam Konare Ba, Sonni Ali Ber.

Although the tradition of a Jewish population near Tindirma (in Mali) has long been known, this past has not been confirmed through archaeology or finds like gravestones. That said, it is remarkable that the tradition has been reported in the Tarikh al-Fattash, the marginalia in Timbuktu manuscripts, and oral tradition collected in the region during the 20^th century. Since some versions of the tradition insert fantastic or unrealistic details, such as the giant stature of the ancient Beni Israel or their 7 leaders commanding thousands of cavalry forces, we previously assumed this was purely legendary. When reconsidering the evidence, however, our opinion has changed to a tempered skepticism.

            First, let us explain our initial stance rejecting the historical validity of the Jewish population in Tindirma. The 1447 letter of Antonio Malfante, a man who traveled to Tuwat and wrote of the area’s Jewish population, also mentioned their prominence in trade. But the same author wrote of the “Philistines” of the Sahara, apparently Tuareg, who did not let Jews pass through their territory. According to Malfante, “They are sworn enemies of the Jews, who do not dare pass hither.”[1] Assuming Malfante correctly understood the nature of the Jewish community’s relationship with Saharan nomads, the Jewish population in Tamentit or other northern Saharan trading centers did not usually cross the Sahara. If they did, the “Philistines” presumably harassed them.

            Of course, it is very dangerous to rely too heavily (and uncritically) on a single source. It is certainly possible some Jews crossed the Sahara from Tuwat in the 1400s. Their presence in Songhay during the reign of Askia Muhammad is likewise implied by the government’s actions to ban them and despoil traders of their goods for doing business with Jews.[2] Leo Africanus also echoed this, describing the ruler of Songhay (or the “king” of Timbuktu) as “an inveterate enemy of the Jews.”[3] It is difficult to imagine the need for anti-Jewish laws or proclamations if there were absolutely no Jewish people in the domains of Songhay. While al-Maghili’s role in this is quite probable, one must wonder to what attitudes regarding Jews existed in the Western Sudan.

            An additional type of evidence attesting to the Jewish colony of Tindirma can be found in the margins of various manuscripts from Timbuktu. According to Susana Molins Lliteras, notes dated to 1504/5 describe the ancient Jewish presence near Tindirma. These notes report that the Jews were buried with their heads facing west. Furthermore, the presence of Hebrew inscriptions was noted. This type of evidence must be carefully evaluated, but it illustrates how the idea of a Jewish presence in Tindirma was around by the early 16^th century. Indeed, despite the Hebrew writing, the notes mention a donation in the area as well as an allusion to knives and swords.[4] Perhaps this is referring to some type of military regime or system in place to defend the area’s prosperous farmers?

            Besides the marginalia in Timbuktu manuscripts, the Tarikh al-Fattash echoes the notion of a Jewish past in Tindirma. Although its composite nature and 19^th century interpolation forces one to consider that the references to the Jewish presence are based on oral traditions, it brings new details into the narrative. For instance, the report on the Tindirma region in the chronicle alludes to the use of wells by the Jews as a water source for their farms. It is also here where the legend of 7 Jewish princes arose, who allegedly each commanded a group of 12,000 horsemen. They were also said to have partitioned the 333 wells built for agricultural purposes among themselves. The names given to these princes appear to be Arabic, such as Fadl ben Mizar.

In terms of the community’s disappearance, the chronicle only mentions that a single Jew was there when a Sorko man and his wife, Marma came to the region. When the kurmina-fari Amar arrived to establish Tindirma as his capital, this lone survivor was dead. This account seems particularly legendary, but the Jewish man named his town Bako.[5] Yet, if the date of 1497 for Umar Komadiakha’s appointment as kurmina-fari is accurate, this suggests that whatever Jewish communities lived in the region had disappeared or dispersed by the late 15^th century.[6]

            As one moves into the colonial era, a reconnaissance of Tindirma was conducted by Bonnel de Mézières. This Frenchman traveled to Tindirma in the company of a respected Timbuktu scholar. He claimed to have seen evidence of the extensive wells built in the region as well as the Jewish cemetery. He also found evidence of a tumulus at Coigur.[7] Since he personally witnessed what was described as the cemetery of the Beni Israel and traveled with an informant presenting oral traditions, there does seem to have been, in the distant past, a prosperous community here perceived as non-Muslims. At least, that’s what was commonly believed by this period.

            Later, in the postcolonial era, Mahmoud Abdou Zouber collected oral traditions published as Traditions historiques songhoy (Tindirma, Morikoyra, Arham). A number of local informants recounted the tradition of an ancient Jewish presence in the region, though sometimes contradicting each other. In some cases, it is also possible that the local traditions were influenced by the Tarikh al-Fattash or drew from similar sources. Yet one key difference is the reference to possible conflict with the Songhay under the Si dynasty. According to one informant, one “Israelite” was in the region when Umar (Amar Aboubakari) built the mosque in Tindirma. Said to have perished at a place called Founefoune 3 years after the arrival of the kurmina-fari, which has been dated to 1497, the single survivor of the community would have died in c. 1500. This informant also reported that the Jews were not defeated in battle or exterminated. Instead, he reported, “Ces Israélites n'ont pas été exterminés par la guerre ; ils sont morts tout simplement.”[8]

On the other hand, other informants hinted at a military conflict that ended the Jewish presence in the region. According to tradition, Sonni Ali had a grand court at Tindirma, suggesting the region was once important to 15^th century Songhay rulers before Askia Muhammad. Moreover, the town, Baka, between Tindirma and Lessoudji was said to have been the place where Jews established a community and subjected the local inhabitants. In the words of the informant, “Les Israélites s’y ont fixés, et ont exercé leur domination sur les autochtones.”[9] This town, Baka, sounds suspiciously close to the name of the Jewish town in the Tarikh al-Fattash. Where things differ is the tradition of the barakoy, Mansikoura, said to have battled the Jews. Indeed, an informant said “C’est le Barakoy qui a vaincu les Israélites et les a contraints à descendre jusqu'à Tindirma.”[10] Elsewhere, the area the Jews once resided in is referred to as the Barissileyla, a place near the river where Jewish tombs, human remains, and wells were found. As for the barakoy, his title appears to include the word mansa, a title used by the barakoy in the Songhay Empire.

Sketch of the Fati region by Bonnel de Mézières.

While the traditions imply that the barakoy had used military force to displace the Jewish population, it is not clear to what extent said venture may have contributed to the dissolution of the community. Tradition suggests this occurred in the 15^th century, too, likely during the reign of Sonni Ali (c. 1464-1492). After all, Sonni Ali is said to have conquered Bara, the region where Tindirma seemingly was a part of.[11] If the traditions are not entirely legendary, there is a chance that the Jewish community of the area was relocated by a barakoy at this time. Later on, by the late 15^th century, the community had died out or dispersed. But the references to the construction of wells and agricultural produce suggest that, for some time at least, the local elites from this allegedly Jewish population lived off the taxation and agricultural production of the region. To what extent they were linked to supplying provisions to Timbuktu or other towns is unclear, but one could imagine a scenario in which Jewish traders might have expanded their interests in the region by investing in agriculture. Their construction of well-built wells for sources of water may have also appealed to Sonni Ali, who once expressed an interest in canals and has been said to have sponsored the creation of wells in the Gourma region.[12] In fact, a tradition reported by Boubou Hama asserts that Jews supported Sonni Ali against the Islamic clerical class and Tuareg.[13] Consequently, it is not inconceivable that Jewish traders with links to Tuwat and a settlement near the Niger supported Sonni Ali during his conquests of Jenne, Timbuktu and other parts of the Middle Niger.

Traditions of the barakoy chasing Jews may contradict this possible alliance between Sonni Ali and the Jews. But it is possible that the Jewish presence near Tindirma, however small or large it may have been, expressed support for Sonni Ali. Their dispersal through the hydraulic program of the Songhay leader could have led to the dissolution of the community. Then, under Askia Muhammad, persecution or banning of Jews may have further weakened whatever was left of the Jewish presence in the region. Ultimately, whatever was left of the community near Tindirma ended by the late 1490s as Askia Muhammad became the ruler of Songhay. Despite that, oral tradition recorded a non-Muslim presence in the area that was very likely tied to Jewish traders who may have come from Tuwat. Since oral traditions, chronicles and, to a certain extent, archaeological traces of ancient wells survive, the notion of a Jewish community in the 15^th century Western Sudan is quite plausible. To what extent they encouraged proselytization or how they managed the area under their authority is unclear, but it was likely in decline by the late 15^th century during the reign of Sonni Ali.

---

[1] Antonio Malfante, “Letter from Tuwat”, in The Voyages of Cadamosto and Other Documents on Western Africa in the Second Half of the Fifteenth Century.

[2] John Hunwick, Jews of a Saharan Oasis, 64

[3] John Hunwick, Timbuktu and the Songhay Empire: Al-Sa‘dī's Ta’rīkh al-sūdān down to 1613 and other Contemporary Documents, 281.

[4] Susana Molins Lliteras, “The Making of a Historian in Timbuktu: The Signed Marginalia Attributed to Mahmud Ka’ti in the Fondo Ka’ti Collection”, in Scribal Practice and the Global Cultures of Colophons, 1400–1800, 147-148.

[5] Octave Houdas (trans.), Tarikh el-Fettach" ou Chronique du chercheur pour servir à l'histoire des villes, des armées, et des principaux personnages du Tekrour: documents arabes relatifs à l'histoire du Soudan, 119-123.

[6] John Hunwick, Timbuktu and the Songhay Empire, 104, 343.

[7] Bonnel de Mézières, “Reconnaissance à Tendirma et dans la région de Fati, Bulletin de la Section de Géographie, t. XXIX, 130-131.

[8] Mahmoud Abdou Zouber, Traditions historiques songhoy (Tindirma, Morikoyra, Arham), 14-18.

[9] Ibid., 74.

[10] Ibid.

[11] Hunwick, Timbuktu and the Songhay Empire, 92.

[12] Adam Konare Ba, Sonni Ali Ber, 102.

[13] Ibid., 102-103. 

Eclipse

Yet another classic from Ahmad Jamal's 1970s oeuvre. Jamal has long been one of the jazz greats whose discography we have yet to properly explore.