Showing posts with label Al-Andalus. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Al-Andalus. Show all posts

Monday, September 29, 2025

Abu Ishaq Ibrahim al-Kanemi

Wikipedia's Map of the Almohad state.

Whilst revisiting old notes, we came across references to the poet Abu Ishaq Ibrahim al-Kanemi. Comparing how Djibo Hamani wrote about him to the short description of him in the second volume of Arabic Literature of Africa: The writings of Central Sudanic Africa. Vol. 2 raises many questions. Hamani, like the editors of the Arabic Literature of Africa, draws from an exceedingly difficult to find study by Mohammad Bencherifa. Bencherifa, the author of Ibrâhîm al-Kânimî (m. 609/1212–1213), figure illustre dans les relations culturelles entre le Maroc et Bilâd al-Sûdân uses all known works in Arabic that mention al-Kanemi. Consequently, it is the best study of al-Kanemi and used by both of our sources.

Where do the accounts differ? Djibo Hamani, whose Quatorze siecles d'histoire du Soudan Central: Le Niger du VIIè au XXè siecle refers to Bencherifa, adopts a somewhat speculative approach. Hamani, like our other source, mentions al-Kanemi's birth in Bilma, a town in Kawar. He apparently arrived in Marrakesh in 1198. As for his surnames, Hamani interprets al-Zakawani as an allusion to the Zaghawa, an appellation used by medieval Arabic sources to refer to some of the populations living in Kawar and Kanem (Hamani 57). In addition, al-Kanimi was said to have possessed a mastery of the Arabic language. He impressed the court of Almohad Marrakesh and befriended a prince, also named Abu Ishaq Ibrahim (al-Mansur). Through his elite connections, al-Kanimi was said to have married an Almohad princess named Zahra and to have moved to Seville. But by c.1212, al-Kanemi had died in Marrakesh (58). As one might expect, Hamani also wrote of al-Kanemi's writings in defense of his skin color. Alas, none of his poetry survives except for fragments of his verses praising Almohad rulers. The ultimate reason why al-Kanemi may have reached Marrakesh in the first place could have been diplomatic. Hamani seems to concur with Bencherifa that al-Kanemi may have traveled there on behalf of the rulers of Kanem, interested no doubt in securing trade routes after the fall of the Bani Khattab in the Fazzan (57). This diplomatic purpose may have also been why al-Kanemi spent a lot of time with the envoy of Saladin at the Almohad court, Ibn Hummaya. 

Arabic Literature of Africa: The writings of Central Sudanic Africa offers a very different interpretation of al-Kanemi. The editors present the variants of al-Kanemi's name in the sources. Rendered as Ibrahim b. Ya'qub al-Dhakwani al-Kanemi, the editors also mention his name written as Abu Ishaq Ibrahim b. Muhammad b. Faris b. Shakla b. Amr b. Abd Allah al-Sulami al-Dhakwani in al-Dhayl wa'l-takmila. Instead of mentioning the Zaghawa, they stress the Dhakwani origin in a branch of the Banu Sulaym, Arabs who migrated west from Egypt in the mid-11th century. Apparently, al-Kanemi wrote a poem about his Dhakwani ancestry, too. However, this source agrees with Hamani about the poet's birthplace in Bilma. Since his skin color was described by contemporaries as "jet-black," at least al-Kanemi's mother was black. Indeed, if his skin color was very dark, it is possible that any Arab ancestor was more than one generation ago. If one assumes al-Kanemi was probably born around 1155, then his Arab ancestor who came to Kawar might have been born a century before him. Interestingly, the ruler of Kanem when he traveled to Marrakesh is remembered in the Diwan for being very dark-skinned, too. Lange has suggested this was due to his mother, Hawa, being a Dabir, a Kanembu group. Is it possible al-Kanemi's mother came from a Kanembu population rather than a Teda-Daza one? In addition, al-Kanemi was said by one source to have been educated in Ghana before traveling to Marrakesh. Furthermore, his defensive poems about the color of his skin were addressed to both his wife, Zahra and the poet al-Jirawi. Lastly, he died in Andalusia, not Marrakesh.

A map of Kawar in The Oasis of Salt: The History of Kawar, a Saharan Centre of Salt Production by Knut S. Vikor.

Obviously, part of the divergence of opinions on this obscure Arabic poet and grammarian can be traced to the source material. Lost works, fragments of his poetry quoted by others or references by later chroniclers or writers likely led to errors about him. One thing is clear, however: al-Kanemi was a highly respected poet from Kanem. His dark-skin and verses in praise of it also suggest something about possible views in the Maghreb of this period. After all, why write verses in a defensive tone about one's color unless others were denigrating it? This early form of racism or colorism did not completely hinder his social ascension if he was accepted at the royal court as a great poet whose renown even reached the eastern Mediterranean. The accounts also agree on a Bilma and Kanem origin for al-Kanemi. By the late 12th century, Kawar was in Kanem's sphere of influence, thereby explaining the al-Kanemi nisba. What can one possibly surmise about al-Kanemi from this bundle of facts, speculations, and contradictions?

First, the Banu Sulaym origins. In Corpus of Early Arabic Sources for West African History edited by Levtzion and Hopkins, 2 references to the Banu Sulaym can be found. According to Ibn Khaldun, they were Arabs who lived in Ifriqiya, opposite the Targa (331). But, it is likely that some branches of the Banu Sulaym lived further east, in today's Libya, during the 11th and 12th centuries. If so, and al-Kanemi's alleged Banu Sulaym origins are not fabricated, he was probably a descendant of a member of this group that migrated to Kawar from today's Libya. Since his Arab pedigree might have dated back a few generations, this would match a timeline of the late 11th century for his Arab ancestor to have migrated to Kawar. Bilma, whose first appearance in written history can be traced to the late 10th century author al-Muhallabi, was already a major town or settlement in Kawar by the time of al-Kanemi. In fact, al-Idrisi's description of the region points to its wealth through the trade in alun (salt?) and its residents who traveled far as merchants. For instance, Ankalas, the town he identified as having the most trade, had residents who traveled to the Maghreb and Egypt. Its local ruler was said to be a generous Muslim (123-124). The region would naturally have attracted both traders and nomadic groups traversing the desert. In Bilma, which Yaqut described as a town with a sultan subject to the Zaghawa ruler (Kanem), al-Kanemi was likely exposed to people of Arab, Berber, Kanem origin. Our poet, al-Kanemi, was undoubtedly a product of this multicultural, Islamic space.

Close ties to Kanem are further supported by problematic mahrams which allude to the local Kawarian elites seeking protection from the mai of Kanem. Allegedly dating to the late 12th century, probably during the reign of Abd Allah Bakuru, they illustrate Kawar's strong ties with Kanem. Likewise, the Diwan indicates Kawar roots and connections for a number of maiwa in 11th century Kanem. In truth, al-Kanemi himself allegedly told a story about a supernatural phenomenon in Kanem that indicates he had traveled there. In this story, reported by al-Umari but derived from the Takmila by Abu Abd Allah Muhammad b. Abd al-Malik al-Marrakushi, al-Kanemi reported sightings of a objects that resemble pots of moving fire at night. When traveling at night, people in Kanem saw it and it moved away as they tried to get near (260). This strange tale is difficult to interpret, but might be some type of meteorological or astronomical phenomena. It nonetheless suggests that al-Kanemi also traveled to Kanem. Thus, it is possible part of his education, which must have included robust training in Arabic language, the Quran and poetry, took place in Kanem. 

Another early center of Islamic scholarship in West Africa, Ghana (the ancient kingdom and not today's Ghana), may have been where al-Kanemi furthered his studies. Ghana certainly gained a reputation by the 12th century as a kingdom where one could find jurists, scholars, Quran readers, and people who traveled to al-Andalus or Mecca. Descriptions of Ghana from al-Bakri, al-Zuhri, Abu Hamid al-Gharnati, and al-Sharishi mention these details in their works from the 12th and 13th centuries. Therefore, it is not inconceivable for al-Kanemi to have studied in the Western Sudan. In fact, his roots in Kawar might have been a factor if salt from the oases was sold to lands west of Kanem by the 12th century. Unfortunately, no sources exist to verify Islamic and Arabic literary education in Ghana that attracted students from as far away as Kanem. It would certainly be plausible for al-Kanemi's education to have been in Kanem and Kawar, where Islam was established and the Sayfawa rulers promoted the religion. This seems more likely given the deeper roots of Islam in Kawar than in Ghana. Even in Kanem, one of the early Muslim maiwa, Bir b. Dunama, was remembered in tradition as a pious and learned man. Ahmad b. Furtu, whilst chronicling the Kanem campaigns of Idris Alooma, alludes to him as a "learned and God-fearing sultan." Thus, the Sayfawa maiwa may have even sponsored his education or been the ones responsible for sending al-Kanemi to Marrakesh in the first place.

Overall, much of the life of Abu Ishaq Ibrahim al-Kanemi remains a mystery. Was he really educated in Ghana? Was his first voyage to Marrakesh a diplomatic mission on behalf of the king of Kanem? If so, are there any extant Almohad accounts of Kanem's diplomacy with Marrakesh, as with the Hafsids in Tunis? Moreover, was he of Banu Sulaym descent and when did they establish a presence in Kawar? If his education in Arabic grammar and poetry took place in Kanem, was he close to the Sayfawa dynasty? If so, was his mission to Marrakech ordered by Salma b. Hawa? What was his life like as a dark-skinned black man in the Almohad court? Many of these questions are unanswerable with the currently available evidence. Nonetheless, it is probable he was educated at least partly in the kingdom of Kanem. If he was serving in a diplomatic capacity at the Almohad court, he would need to be an educated figure to best represent the kingdom with Muslim powers to the north. Apparently, he was so impressive a poet and grammarian that it was worthwhile for him to stay. To conclude, here are some of his verses composed in praise of the Almohad ruler, Yaqub al-Mansur, recorded by Ibn Khallikan (translated by Levtzion and Hopkins in the Corpus, p.163):

He removed his veil but my eyes, out of awe, saw him 
through a veil.
His favor drew me near, but being near, out of awe, I 
found myself distant.

Tuesday, June 10, 2025

Muslim Spain Reconsidered

Hitchcock's Muslim Spain Reconsidered is a short survey of the history of Al-Andalus from 711 to 1502. It would be difficult to do justice to several centuries of complex history, particularly in a region whose legacy has been used for various, occasionally contradictory purposes. For Hitchcock, Al-Andalus is not so much a paragon of interfaith harmony or unity, but rather part of a long history in which political concerns and interests (expediency) trumped religious or nationalist identities. For instance, the chapter in which El Cid is covered emphasizes the non-religious character of the historical El Cid. The cultural importance of Al-Andalus for scholarship, poetry, medicine, and translation of Classical knowledge is further emphasized for its long-term impact in Western Europe, too. Reasonable speculation about Al-Andalus's possible influence on Dante or the significance of Toledo as a center of translation of Islamic knowledge for the West serve to illustrate how Andalusian scholarship, book culture, and poetry made a huge impact on west. One of Hitchcock's particular strengths is his care to include aesthetic developments in poetry, architecture, and literature that illustrate distinctive Andalusian styles and identity, not just its emulation of the Islamic East. We certainly will be attempting to read Ibn Hazm, for example.

Sunday, August 14, 2022

Kingdoms of Faith

Since we have been trying to read more histories of North Africa, the Mediterranean and Islam, we recently read Kingdoms of Faith: A New History of Islamic Spain by Brian Catlos. While one would think such a topic is not one of our immediate interests, Islamic Spain did have a connection to Kanem in the medieval era. Indeed, one of the earliest known West African poets of the Arabic language, Abu Ishaq Ibrahim al-Kanemi, lived in Almohad Spain after establishing himself as a grammarian and respected poet in the Maghrib. Moreover, al-Andalus was definitely linked to our Sahelian area of interest through trans-Saharan trade networks. So, Islamic Spain enjoyed global connections through Europe, the Mediterranean, the Near East, and Africa, although the ties to sub-Saharan Africa are often ignored or little known. 

A general overview of al-Andalus, like Kingdoms of Faith, does not delve into the trans-Saharan side of Islamic Spain, but it is a great overview of a complex history. Often reduced to obfuscating stereotypes or romanticized narratives of conflict or tolerance, al-Andalus was a profoundly dynamic and shifting region where alliances and conflicts occurred between people of the same or different religious traditions. While Catlos at times seems too eager to emphasize this, one cannot deny that religious identity alone never defined or solely motivated the actions of historical actors, especially in an arena where Muslims, Christians, Jews and almost certainly "pagans" from other lands like the pre-Christian Norse crossed paths and learned how to, out of convenience, come together for their own interests. Catlos is most persuasive on that point, the pragmatism of various Muslim or Christians rulers in their attempts to rule or establish stable states across the peninsula. 

So, in order to demonstrate how pragmatism and convenience motivated the political history of the Iberian peninsula from 711 to the early 17th century, Catlos outlines the development in chronological order of the peninsula from the first Muslim conquest to the emirate (and later caliphate) of Cordoba, and then the Taifa kingdoms, Almoravid and Almohad presence, and gradual expansion of the Christian kingdoms of Aragon and Castile. The reader gains some appreciation for the intellectual, cultural, technological, and economic sophistication of al-Andalus, especially under the Caliphate and the Taifa kingdoms, whose patronage for the arts and sciences definitely contributed to European philosophy and scientific knowledge. One also begins to understand how religion, ethnicity, clan, and slavery shaped this history as those of Arab lineage often occupied the best positions in government while discriminating against those of Berber origin or descendants of native converts who formed the majority of the population. This helps elucidate some of the internal dissension, civil wars, assassinations, and foreign invasions that pitted Muslim against Muslim or Christian against Christian in the broader sphere of Mediterranean history. 

Overall, Kingdoms of Faith is a good introduction to the history of al-Andalus. One might have to consider ignoring the jarring references to Andalusi elite male culture as "gangsta" or attempts to bring contemporary American politics or social commentary into the text, but those are fortunately few. All the Afrocentric extremists who love the racially-loaded term "Moor" should consider reading this, as it will establish very quickly how absurd it is to assume the "Moors" were "Black." It would also be a good read for those interested in the Sahel and how Islamic Spain was an important part of the bridge that connected the Sahelian zone with the Mediterranean and Europe in the Middle Ages. Perhaps future scholarship can shed additional light on this, particularly the West African presence in the Iberian peninsula as slaves, soldiers, students, and, in at least one case, authors whose impact might be important for shaping conceptions of difference and "race" in the early modern period.