Studium Historiae on Ghana

It's always a delight to find serious or semi-serious people creating online videos or posting articles about the ancient kingdom of Ghana. Of course, it would be even better if an academic like Bathily or perhaps Soninke-speaking historians were posting this type of content in French or English. If they, like Bathily, could draw on their knowledge of the Soninke language and Soninke oral traditions and ethnographies, I believe we could get a bit closer to what Ghana actually was like.

The Sultanate of Mali

Hadrien Collet's Le sultanat du Mali - Histoire régressive d'un empire médiéval XXIe-XIVe siècle is a challenging read. Very academic and interested in avoiding literalist readings of oral traditions or Arabic sources, the focus of this regressive history is an emphasis on the historiography of Mali. This historiography reveals discursive practices of various generations of historians who wrote about the past of Mali, from Mamluk-era scholars like al-Umari to the post-medieval historians and chroniclers of the Timbuktu tarikh tradition or colonial and post colonial academics and scholars. By highlighting the historiographical turn, Collet's study endeavors to understand the ideological, literary, and other contexts of the key texts utilized as sources to construct a narrative of the "imperial" era in the Western Sudan. Likewise, a rereading of Arabic sources and a desire to place them in their context reveals how al-Umari, Ibn Battuta, and others from the Muslim world conceived of Mali in terms of Islamic geography, science, literature, and geopolitics. By attempting to understand the larger context for our external sources on Mali, instead of relying on extracts that divorce these sources from their larger context, one can gain new insights into the origin and meaning of the relevant writings. Collet's text particularly does this with regard to al-Umari's encyclopedic chapter on Mali and the Rihla of Ibn Battta. Surprisingly, Ibn Khaldun, who provides some of the richest information on Mali in the external sources, does not receive a chapter.

The choice of beginning with the colonial-era scholarship of the likes of a Delafosse and orientalists like Cooley to the nationalist scholarship of Mamby Sidibe or the post colonial age of scholarship from the likes of D.T. Niane and Cheikh Anta Diop, makes it easier to see for the reader how the narrative of the "Mali Empire" developed and became an established historical "fact" in academic, Afrocentric and online discourse. However, a deeper analysis of the ways in which this narrative was established by scholars and academics in the 19th and 20th centuries reveals a number of problems and concerns. Since we have not examined some of the scholarship analyzed here, particularly the works of Monteil or the Malian and Guinean publications of the post colonial era, we nonetheless find a problem with the colonialist, nationalist, Afrocentric, and interpretative lens used by these scholars. The colonial-era ones, for instance, like Delafosse, did not always cite their oral sources clearly and later scholars adopted a sometimes uncritical use of oral traditions, treating the griots as "neutral" reservoirs of "raw facts" or data that can be used to supplement the meager external Arabic sources for the medieval sultanate of Mali. In reality, however, these oral traditions as preserved by griots are not frozen in time but adaptable to new conditions and meanings to retain their relevance. In other words, scholars may have rushed to historicize figures like Sundiata while also promoting the narrative of a precociously modern "constitution" for the state established by this figure. 

In short, scholars must use oral traditions as carefully as written sources, and in so doing will similarly recognize the agency and creativity of griots as historians. This type of analysis will potentially elucidate or bring us closer to answering the questions of past generations of specialists and scholars. For instance, using oral traditions and archaeological data critically to rethink the location of the capital of the Mali sultanate. Instead of looking to Niani, the discredited imperial capital promoted by colonial scholars and Niane, the capital of the sultanate may have been further north and not in the Manden heartland as we know it today. Likewise, the collection of oral traditions in different parts of Manden and trying to analyze how they reflect post-"imperial" Mali conditions after the loss of their northern territories (Djenne, Walata, Timbuktu, etc.) highlights the "living" nature or conditions of oral traditions.

The next section analyzes post-medieval West African historians in an intriguing manner. Building on the model of historian Paulo Fernando de Moreas Farias and Mauro Nobili, the famous tarikhs of Timbuktu are seen in a new light. In addition, 19th century Islamic scholars such as Muhammad Bello of Sokoto and the chronicles and writings of Muslim scholars from Walata and the Hamdullahi caliphate. By treating the authors of texts as historian colleagues, one can begin to see how their construction of Mali and the pilgrimage of Mansa Musa functioned to express an Islamic West African conception of the region's past. Takrur, for example, is redefined by these authors in ways that clearly deviate from the historical kingdom of Takrur or the use of the term by Mamluk scholars in the East. Mansa Musa and his wondrous pilgrimage, the sponsorship of mosques, and the honor he accorded to the ulama represent a model of leadership. Like the future Askia Muhammad's function in the chronicles, Mansa Musa therefore served as an exemplary Islamic ruler who also helped establish Takrur as a Muslim geographic space. Although our 17th century chroniclers al-Sa'adi and Ibn Muhtar appear to have largely relied on oral traditions for Mali and a few external Arabic sources, their anecdotes, stories, and traditions on the Middle Niger's past under Malian suzerainty indicate the enduring memory and legacy of the kingdom. Even when in conflict with Songhay, the Islamic sultanate Collet suggests may be conceived as "modern" or "early modern" rather than medieval, Mali and the memory of Mansa Musa suggest it retained its power and legacy as an Islamic state. 

The final chapters analyzing the major external Arabic sources (al-Umari, Ibn Battuta) and the Mamluk-era writings on the pilgrimage of Mansa Musa, present, perhaps, the denouement of the historiographical and hermeneutical turn embodied in this work. These sources, written in the time of the Mali sultanate's zenith or soon after, reflect the power and reputation attained by the West African state after Mansa Musa's pilgrimage impressed Mamluk Cairo in 1325. Collet's reading of al-Umari and Ibn Battuta exemplifies this well, as both authors receive detailed treatment in terms of their backgrounds, their writings beyond the well-known extracts on Mali, and the literary and intellectual concerns and styles of their respective genres. Seeing Ibn Battuta and Ibn Guzzay's co-produced narrative as literary does not mean the voyage to the Sudan never happened (although it is possible Ibn Battuta never went beyond Walata). Indeed, following literary conventions and seeing the topology of the genre of travel writings that situated the Sudan (Black Africa) and the Far East as distinct zones bordering the unknown lands. The notion of "marvels" used here, particularly in the chapter on Ibn Battuta, was fascinating and points to, in our opinion, the overall veracity of Ibn Battuta's account of Mali. While undoubtedly drawing on a larger corpus of literature on the "Land of the Blacks" in Arabic literature, the local customs and "exoticisms" described in the text are sometimes unique and, if not directly witnessed by Ibn Battuta himself, were based on first-hand accounts. Like al-Umari, who also occasionally drew from the larger context of Arabic literary conventions and geography on sub-Saharan Africa, Ibn Battuta's story of cannibals to the south of Mali and other "marvels" demonstrates the literary nature of the source. That insight, however, does not mean the journey to Mali never occurred. It actually offers a new perspective that can raise new questions and conclusions about the nature of Mali during the 14th century. 

Sadly, Ibn Khaldun's detailed analysis of Mali does not have a separate chapter in Collet's detailed book. It is a shame, since Ibn Khaldun's use of a "Takruri" informant from Ghana indicates the presence of an account drawing on a different regime of truth. Indeed, the Takruri faqih in Cairo may represent a late 14th century West African perspective on Mali, drawing on "fresh" traditions and possibly written sources for his reconstruction of the chronology of mansas. Uthman, this Ghana faqih interpreted via Ibn Khaldun, represents, besides Mansa Musa himself in the reports on the pilgrimage, the closest thing to a contemporary "internal" voice on the sultanate. It would have been interesting to read Collet's breakdown of Ibn Khaldun and his larger sociopolitical theory of history in this context, as well as an early local/West African history of Mali. Otherwise, al-Umari largely relied on al-Dukkali, who is said to have lived in Mali's capital for several years, or the filtered accounts of what Mansa Musa was reported to have said to Mamluk officials during his Egyptian sojourn. Even if Ibn Khaldun's account is not particularly reliable, the use of Takruri informants who were contemporaries of 14th century Mali merits further investigation. 

Terra

A lovely harp performance from Harpsibord of a classic.

Dessalines & Alexis

We really enjoyed watching Arnold Antonin's documentaries on Jacques Stephen Alexis and Papa Dessalines. While viewing them on Youtube was not always comfortable and both documentaries hopped around chronologically in sometimes confusing ways, Antonin's films are a treasure. As one of the few Haitians out there producing educational video content based on research and interviews with specialists (unlike most of the trash produced and disseminated online and via social media), Antonin's films illustrate examples of more serious filmmakers and students of Haitian history and culture. That said, it was also interesting to see the two films in one weekend since Alexis claimed descent from the father of our nation. 

In terms of the Alexis documentary, Jacques Stephen Alexis, mort sans sépulture, Antonin includes the testimony of a number of Alexis's relatives. Indeed, even his sister, Alta, appears in the documentary (albeit not long enough to take advantage of what insights she may have had about the Alexis family's origins or childhood of her brother). Alexis's daughter Florence and her son, Alexis's wife Andrée Roumer, and a number of writers, intellectuals, and political comrades like Depestre, Bloncourt, and Rassoul Labuchin appear. Labuchin shares some of his memories of traveling to China with Alexis, including the good impression Alexis left on Mao. Depestre and Bloncourt recall their involvement with the student protests that led to the fall of Lescot and Depestre's later conflicts with Alexis. Others who were involved with Alexis's political activities in the 1950s and 1960s express agreement with Alexis's belief in the need for an alliance with the progressive wing of the national bourgeoisie to overturn "feudal" relations in Haiti. Unfortunately, we are still confused about the death of Alexis, but at least the perspective of different individuals is included. Scholars who specialize in literature and Haitian writers like Depestre, Yanick Lahens, and Dany Laferriere also appear, giving their own opinions on the quality of Alexis's literary work. All seem to concur that L'espace d'un cillement is his least dated work, while also expressing an appreciation for his contributions to the Haitian short story. 

The documentary on Dessalines, entitled Jean-Jacques Dessalines, le vainqueur de Napoléon Bonaparte, was a little harder to make sense of. The filmmaker chose to narrate the story of his life in an unorthodox manner, instead of a more linear or chronological order. It was sometimes awkward and difficult to follow, although the documentary did a great job capturing the use and appropriation of Dessalines as a symbol by different ideologies of Haitians. While nearly everyone who appeared in the documentary praised Dessalines for his military leadership and for the establishment of Haiti as an independent state, they also offered nuanced interpretations of his leadership and flaws. Some, including Leslie Péan see the roots of Haiti's political problems in the refusal of Dessalines to accept a constitution modeled on that of the US. Instead, the desire to create an imperial constitution with himself at the head of government, established a bad precedent in Haiti. Others criticized Dessalines for lacking the tact and skills of a politician. An additional perspective blamed the assassination of Dessalines on the US (which is not elucidated) while the massacre of the remaining French population was attributed to the desire of "mulattoes" to remove the French who could have claimed properties or plantations. What we found particularly interesting was the idea that Dessalines was not assassinated out of the fear he would institute some progressive or equitable land reform. It ultimately came down to the belief of Dessalines in the role of the state. The state should possess a dominant role in land ownership by leasing estates, and the state should exercise a major role in trade and commerce. While the model of Dessalines probably would have led to wealthier Haiti, the assassination obviously foreclosed any possibility of that happening. Perhaps the kingdom of Christophe is the closest approximation to what Haiti under the Empire of Dessalines would have looked like (although the documentary suggests Dessalines had a different vision for Haiti than Christophe and Toussaint Louverture).

Overall, these were two excellent documentary films. One on the founder of the nation and the other about one of his descendants who was a major figure in 20th century Haitian literature and politics, illustrates the living legacy of Dessalines. The Dessalines documentary could have been better and some of the claims made require additional explanation or sourcing, but it was a fine attempt to get some idea of who was Dessalines. Some of the revelations and stories included were also surprises. For instance, the depiction of Dessalines on the gourde was based on a Japanese artist's random depiction of a black person because the Haitian government never sent a faithful painting or portrait of Dessalines to base it on. It's tragic to think we have no idea what Dessalines actually looked like though there were accurate portraits lost in fires. Our father remains, therefore, to some extent unknowable but his progeny and ideas of building a stronger nation retain their relevance. Indeed, even Alexis, who believed that a nationalist branch of the bourgeoisie could unite with the forces of the working classes to build a better Haiti, was in some ways following the unitary message of Dessalines who, in his 1805 constitution, proclaimed all Haitians noirs in an attempt to unify the divided Haitian population. 

The Creator's Master Plan

A pleasant surprise, featuring Emmett Cohen and some vocalists performing one of the classics by Pharoah Sanders.

Emperor Soulouque

 

It's always a pleasurable surprise to see serious or semi-serious online commentary, analysis and reviews of Haitian historical figures like Soulouque. While Guy Ferolus could have incorporated more recent sources, this is a decent overview of of Haiti's most unique 19th century rulers. We can recall more recent scholarship also highlighting Soulouque's support for the arts.

Contribution to the History of the Mali Empire

Madina Ly Tall's Contribution à l'histoire de l'Empire du Mali, (XIIIe-XVIe siècles): limites, principales provinces, institutions politiques is by now a dated yet provocative interpretation of the Mali Empire. Pushing back against earlier authors like Delafosse who believed Mali disintegrated into irrelevance by the early decades of the 15th century, Ly Tall uses Portuguese sources and oral traditions to demonstrate the power and economic importance of Mali in 15th and 16th century gold trade, especially through its control of the Gambia for access to coastal trade. The Malian historian also utilized the usual Arabic sources (medieval external Arabic ones like that of al-Umari or Ibn Khaldun and the later chronicles like the Tarikh al-Fattash) and oral traditions recorded in earlier sources or from her own fieldwork. Thus, through an impressive use of nearly all types of sources (including the limited archaeological work in Mali and the site of Niani), the author presents a plausible Mali Empire through its provincial organization and administrative structure.

More than half of the text consists of short chapters on the various provinces of Mali that can be identified with a combination of textual and oral sources. These major provinces are then elucidated in terms of their possible importance in the Mali Empire and how they were lost to the center. Here is where the author is willing to push back against previous scholarship with regards to the eastern extent of Mali. During its apogee in the 14th century, Ly Tall believes the emperor did indeed include Tadmekka and Takedda, despite other historians disputing the problematic Arabic sources on the matter. Of course, due to the paucity of sources, it is possible that these eastern possessions were lost after a short period of time. Ly Tall also makes a problematic case for Kukia possibly remaining under Mali control well into the 15th century. This is based, in part, on the problematic references to a "Quioquia" in Portuguese sources. This, however, seems unlikely to have been the Kukiya associated with the Songhay and Gao. We find it unlikely that the Sonni or Si dynasty would have not controlled Kukiya by the 1430s if not far earlier. After all, Ly Tall herself implies that Mali lost control of much of its northern and eastern domains around the time it lost control of Timbuktu in the 1430s. Consequently, it seems unlikely to have held Kukiya, too. Of course, Ly Tall tdoes raise interesting pints due to the possible depopulation of Gao in c.1375 and its decline in the late 1300s and early 1400s but we believe it unlikely that Malian influence would have still been strong in that area. 

Outside of a few quibbles with questionable claims or debatable conclusions about Mali's imperial reach to the east and over Gao-Kukiya, the author endeavors to use oral traditions in conjunction with Ibn Khaldun, al-Umari, and Ibn Battuta to sketch the outline of imperial Mali's administration. According to her research, the empire appears to have not depended on enslaved officials, although she identifies a griot who was willing to explain the rise of one former slave official who usurped power (perhaps the Sakoura of Ibn Khaldun's account). The issue of succession, which we saw led to frequent conflicts, appears to have followed two patterns. After Sundiata, it was mainly collateral, moving from eldest brother to younger siblings. After Mansa Musa, however, the succession seems to have emphasized father-son inheritance. Perhaps this was due to the greater Islamization of the Mandingue aristocracy or the specific desires of rulers to ensure their sons would reign. Sadly, the lack of sources for later Mali history in the 15th and 16th century does not allow us to clearly identify which pattern of succession predominated. Perhaps, after losing its northern territories, the Mandingue returned to an emphasis on collateral succession, a principle deeply grounded in Mandingue polities and clan structure. In addition, the administrative structure was one that, of course, featured a prominent role for griots, repositories of tradition and history who were closely linked to the mansas. The Mali Empire's administrative structure also included a role for local dynasties in annexed or conquered territories, though sometimes replacing them with representatives of the central government. 

Overall, Ly Tall's study is a careful one that attempts to integrate all the known sources. While she appears to have lacked the ability to read Portuguese, the French and English translations provide enough data to demonstrate that Mali's influence continued in Gambia. Her argument that control of this stretch of the coast played a major role in the survival of a Mali empire until the end of the 16th century is an interesting one that could be strengthened with further data or figures on the scale of the gold trade with the Portuguese. Nonetheless, the fertility of the land along the Gambia River and the trade with Europeans on the coast likely did contribute to Mali's survival after the loss of its northern territories. That said, Malian control of some of the gold sources which provided gold to Djenne and Timbuktu must have been an important source of revenue for the mansas. Even if Songhay and, then the Pashalik in Timbuktu controlled the north, Mali remained relevant in the gold trade to the north. Indeed, as late as 1599, the mansa of Mali attempted to seize Djenne, proof that the state was still a power in the region and willing to try to retake former provinces.