Tarikh al-Fattash

Although so many questions remain pertaining to the authorship and interpolations in the Tarikh al-Fattash, one can see why it has become a priceless resource for understanding the history of the Songhay and the Niger Bend region. Attributed to Mahmud Kati and his grandson, with additional notes and references to a lost chronicle and family records, the text contains clear forgeries from the 19th century, predicting a future caliph of Masina. Nobili and other scholars have made a persuasive argument that what we know call the Tarikh al-Fattash was in fact an original 17th century chronicle by Ibn al-Mukhtar, and the 19th century forgery which drew upon the older text to promote a certain Ahmad of Masina. Apparently, other copies of the Tarikh al-Fattash have been located in the surviving libraries or collections of West African Arabic manuscripts, so future scholars may one day establish a clearer picture on the making of this particular chronicle. Unlike the other surviving Timbuktu chronicle, with a more clearly established author, part of the appeal and challenge of the Tarikh al-Fattash is endeavoring to make sense of its authorship and how it reflects a tradition of chronicles or "historical" writing in West Africa for centuries.

Unfortunately, however, we had to rely on the 1913 French translation of the text by Houdas and Delafosse. Despite its errors and dated footnotes to elucidate ambiguous passages or unclear translations, one felt it to be a more useful (and accessible) translation than the English version. Until a scholarly, annotated English translation of the chronicle is published, we shall have to rely on Houdas and Delafosse's translation. And, lest one be mistaken, the 1913 French translation is mostly serviceable. The incongruous mixing of authors makes for sometimes confusing reading, but the Tarikh al-Fattash provides a number of different oral traditions, slightly modified kingslists for the Zuwa and Sunni dynasties, and new data and references for everyone interested in the rise, decline and fall of the Songhay Askia dynasty. 

As the product of a Muslim intellectual (possibly a real Mahmud Kati, or Ibn al-Mokhtar), it invariably promotes a certain narrative of Songhay political power, religious practice, and Islamic civilizational models the Askiya state, under Askia Muhammad I, epitomized. While also reporting new oral traditions of the early history of West Africa and the Songhay, what the Tarikh al-Fattash emphasizes in servile lineages, slavery (the 24 tribes owned by the kings of Mali, who were then seized by the Songhay and provided tribute), and caste actually reveals something of the larger world beyond the Niger Bend in which Songhay was inextricably linked. For instance, the origins of one caste lineage is somehow imagined to have begun with a former slave owned by Christians in the Atlantic, possibly an allusion to the trans-Atlantic slave trade. One finds intriguing claims of an ancient Jewish population in the area of Tendirma before its formal establishment by the Askiyas. This may have served the purpose of acknowledging the Jewish presence in West Africa or calling attention to the deeper antiquity of this part of West Africa. A similar tactic was possibly used in the Tarikh al-Sudan when al-Sa'di suggested ancient Kukiya was a source of sorcerers for the Pharaohs of Egypt. Undoubtedly, oral traditions and legends permeated both of the Timbuktu chronicles in question, such as the origins of the Zuwa dynasty of kings or the chronology used to describe the early history of Ghana (Wagadu) or even the rise of the Sunni dynasty in the character of Ali Kulun. A great episode, of course not factual, can be found in the tale of Mansa Musa's hajj, when his farba produces an artificial river in the middle of the desert for the mansa's wife.

For our purposes, if the Tarikh al-Fattash is reliable, then it is priceless for shedding more light on social structure and practices of power among the Askiya rulers. It may reflect a greater dependence on slaves in the post-Songhay imperial period, but it reveals how the Askiya was expected to be generous, redistribute wealth, and, in at least some cases, employ enslaved labor for agriculture. Thus, an Askiya is said to have given the original Mahmud Kati several gifts for his sons to marry, including land with slave laborers to make it productive. Another story of Askia Dawud's generosity mentions him freeing the entire family of an old enslaved woman, even though the woman had only asked that the Askia ensure her children and grandchildren not be separated when sold to new owners. This seems to reflect the fact that slave trading in Songhay lands did indeed separate families. But even better for this old woman and her family, Askia Dawud freed her entire family and had an official document signed in front of witnesses to attest to her family's freedom. Freeing slaves was a virtuous act, but making gifts out of them for various Islamic scholars, nobles, and subordinates was supposedly another aspect of Askia Dawud's virtue. It is in this context we learn that the population of Gao consisted of 7,626 houses, not counting straw huts, to display how no one living in the city had not benefited from the largesse of the Askia dynasty.

As for royal plantations (producing rice, it would seem), caste, artisans, and the poor, the Tarikh al-Fattash also reveals more than the Tarikh al-Sudan. The poor in Timbuktu and Gao supposedly received food directly from the Askia Dawud. In the first city, Dawud allegedly founded a plantation worked by 30 slaves to feed the poor. He also sent 4000 sunnu of grain to the qadi of Timbuktu to distribute for them. Intriguingly, to be a royal slave also conferred a degree of power, and could, in some cases (Missakoulah, the supervisor said to be from Baguirmi who oversaw a royal plantation and repeatedly gave away grain from it to the less fortunate) get away with independent actions and behavior (especially if their behavior in virtuous acts improved the status of their master). It is also in the Tarikh al-Fattash that references to the tailors of Timbuktu and artisans can be found. For instance, the Moroccan invading army included Arab shoemakers and artisans who sold their services after the pacification of the region. Supposedly, prior that, Timbuktu already had 26 establishments for tailors, the so-called tindi, which were run by a master who had, on average, around 50 apprentices. Some of the tailors were also scholars, such as a certain Boussa mentioned in the the chronicle. There must have been some kind of guild-like association for certain trades in towns like Timbuktu and Gao. Other artisan groups were treated as a caste, and expected to provide a tribute to the Askias (the blacksmiths, for example). Unfortunately, these chronicles, focused as they are on the Askias and scholars, do not tell us more about artisans, laborers, and farmers, and less about the use of enslaved labor in the salt mines or estates owned by non-Askiya. In the near future, a new translation of the Tarikh al-Fattash and critical study of it and other manuscripts may shed light on these questions, and the basis of Songhay royal power to the peasantry.