Mozambiques and East Africans in Colonial Haiti

Trying to find details on the "Mozambiques" and East Africans in colonial Haiti is, rather difficult. They were largely imported into the colony during the last 2 decades of colonial rule, often being imported at Le Cap, Saint-Marc, and Port-au-Prince. While Jesuit historian Charlevoix mentioned an early presence of Monomotapa and Madagascar slaves in the colony, they were not considered desirable slaves by the French. However, the development of the Mascarenes and the insatiable need for labor in Saint-Domingue made East Africa and Mozambique a supplier of over 20,000 captives to the colony from 1773 until the 1790s. As the above maroon case indicates, some of these "Mozambiques" had even been enslaved in the Mascarenes for a while, learning French (and presumably, Mauritian Creole?) before being brought to Saint-Domingue. 

Michel, a Macoua (Makua) 

Trying to determine the "nations" of the Mozambiques in Saint-Domingue is difficult. The only two "nations" we have seen explicitly mentioned in the colony are Makua (Macoua, Maquoua) or Maconde (of Tanzania and parts of Mozambique). Despite the appellation, many of the "Mozambiques" came from diverse areas in Southeastern Africa. The Makua may have been a larger proportion of the total, but if the composition of the "Mozambiques" in the Mascarenes is a reliable indication, Saint-Domingue may have included Mondjavoas, Senas, Moussenas, Yambanes, Mouquindos, Maravis, and Niamoeses in addition to Makua and Maconde. This ethnic heterogeneity seems to have been completely lost in the eyes of Saint-Domingue's slaveholders, who should have known the "Mozambiques" were quite different from other Africans yet not a singular group in themselves.

A Mozambique who spoke Portuguese and Spanish

It also appears that some of the "Mozambiques" had spent substantial time in the Portuguese colony or among Lusophones. For instance, the above case of a runaway demonstrates how some "Mozambiques" could speak Portuguese and Spanish. This may explain why some of the "Mozambiques" encountered by Descourtilz were also devout Catholics (in his eyes). They, like some of the "Congo" in Saint-Domingue, were influenced by Roman Catholicism and may have added to the already Christian (or partly Christianized) segment of the enslaved population. Unfortunately, it is difficult to say to what extent these Catholic "Mozambiques" formed a significant part of the "Mozambique" population in Saint-Domingue, but they were conspicuous enough to be noticed by Descourtilz.

4 runaway Makuas. Perhaps the large concentration of "Mozambiques" in some areas favored marronage as they found people from the same or similar ethnolinguistic backgrounds to escape with.

A runaway slave of the Maconde "nation" appears here.

As for East Africans, purchased from Kilwa, Mombasa, Monfiat and Zanzibar, Saint-Domingue received a little over 2000. Vidargent, of the Malingue nation, may be an example of this East African (Tanzanian) presence. The French slave trader, Morice, used the word Malingue to refer to captives purchased from Kilwa. The name may be a corruption of Maningo or Machinga, peoples from the hinterland of Kilwa or the Tanzanian interior. Malingue could also refer to a completely different African "nation" in West or Central Africa, but we thought it interesting that Morice used the same word in the 1770s and an African of that "nation" appeared in the colony around the same time. This presence of captives purchased via the Swahili Coast was on a much smaller scale and, alas, the "nations" of these groups in the colony of Saint-Domingue are not clearly specified or listed in the archive. We know from Moreau de Saint-Mery that captives purchased from Montfiat, Kilwa, and variosu spots on the eastern coast of Africa could be found, including from some closer to the Cape of Good Hope (Natal Africans?). 

Sadly, our only somewhat detailed account of "Mozambiques" in colonial Haiti remains the work of Descourtilz. For example, he conversed with a Mirault who owned many Mozambiques, including one who allegedly consumed human blood. Again, it is via Descourtilz that we learn that some of the Mozambiques were Catholics through Portuguese influence. Even more useful is Descourtilz's brief and problematic description of the "Vaudoux" of the Mozambiques. According to him, their "Vaudoux" practice consisted of imploring their "serpent" or "vaudoux" for the favor of their masters, the acquisition of money, to find love or for other wishes. He even described a Mozambique "Vaudou" reunion which allegedly occurred at the Pelerin habitation in Saint-Louis. According to him, the Mozambiques met in a secret spot and as part of their ritual, a child was beaten or severely injured. Since Descourtilz did not witness some of the things he described, he must be used cautiously here. Nonetheless, we may be reading a very biased, incomplete account of diviners and spiritual practices of southeastern African peoples. 

After Haitian independence, the presence of "Mozambiques" was noted for some time. For example, a colonel named Louis Mosambique was killed by Petion in Saltrou for what may have been an attempted conspiracy or revolt in 1816. In terms of cultural legacy, it's possible their presence in Haiti was comparable to that of Brazil. They came in large numbers, but far smaller than other groups and therefore their cultural impact may be minimal. Instead, they were more likely to become part of the established culture among the enslaved. Nonetheless, it is both fascinating and horrifying to see the links between the Indian Ocean and Atlantic Ocean for the slave trade to the Mascarenes and the Caribbean. 

Bahrey on the Oromo

Although the writings of Bahrey are sadly too brief for a deeper history of the Oromo peoples of the 16th century, his History of the Galla is a fascinating document. As an early ethnographic document of sorts, the Ethiopian monk sought to elucidate the social structure of the Oromo and its role in their often victorious raids and battles with Solomonic Ethiopia. Furthermore, in spite of his own Christian biases and panegyrical allusions to Sarsa Dengel's military prowess and zeal for Christian expansion, Bahrey strikes the modern reader as a relatively balanced source on the Oromo. He blames the small size of the Ethiopian warrior class and the egalitarian (or relatively so) Oromo social system in which all men are reared for war. 

If true, this meant the Oromo age-grade system and their lubas were able to expand and raid several parts of the Solomonic kingdom due to their large source of warriors. Their social system also, according to the end of Bahrey's brief account, included a division of labor on the behalf of the village or community. Their system, though lacking the kind of permanent centralized authority of the Abyssinians or the later Oromo kingdoms, was flexible and able to adapt to different conditions. For instance, the adoption of horses and mules under Mesle in the years 1554-1662 represented an innovation in Oromo military tactics. Thus, it is less surprising to understand how and why the Oromo migrations of the 16th century were so successful, despite occasional internal disputes or divisions. 

The success of the Oromo and the Solomonic dynasty's struggles to contain them during the 16th century remind us of other African states facing similar problems during the same era. The infamous "Jagas" of Kongo, for instance, appear to have formed effective warbands that allowed them to threaten Kongo and other kingdoms in West Central Africa. The Songhai, in West Africa, had Fulani marauders and other issues. Borno, under the Sayfawa dynasty, was also dealing with ongoing rebellions or insecurity near Lake Chad. According to Ahmad b. Furtu, whose chronicles of Idris b. Ali's military campaigns in Kanem and Borno have survived for posterity, the Sayfawa mais had to deal with the rebellious Bulala in Kanem, Tuareg incursions, Kano raids, and attacks from Sao populations near the imperial capital. Like Sarsa Dengel, Idris b. Ali appears to have been quite effective as a military leader. The displaced populations, war captives, and nearly exterminated peoples who felt the wrath of Borno were, for the most part, pacified or reduced to tributary status. 

Unlike the Solomonic rulers, Borno appears to have been far more effective at securing its internal borders by the late 16th century. Part of this must have been due to the different socioeconomic structures of their respective enemies, as well as internal factors like military tactics, adoption of firearms, and administrative practices. One wonders what the Sayfawa would have done if faced with an enemy comparable to the Oromo peoples of the 16th century. The closest enemy might have been the Tuareg along the northwestern border and some of the Tubu and Arab populations in Kanem who were initially aligned with the Bulala sultans. We know Idris b. Ali, at least, won over some of the latter two groups and was able to force some of the Tuareg raiders into vassal status.

Luso-Ethiopian Relations and Church Unification

Because it was co-written by Merid Wolde Aregay and frequently cited in Cohen's study of the Jesuit mission, The Question of the Union of the Churches in Luso-Ethiopian Relations, 1500-1632 was the next read on Solomonic Ethiopia. Although a short study of Luso-Ethiopian Relations and the failed unification of the respective churches under Roman authority, Aregay and Girma Beshah has written a cogent introduction to the complex topic of Portuguese-Ethiopian interactions beginning with the legend of Prester John and early contacts between the Latin West and the Horn in the late medieval period. While the authors do not seek to blame the Jesuits for the mission's failure or see in it a colonial relationship, they do acknowledge that expecting to uproot centuries-old customs and beliefs quickly was perhaps misguided. 

Ultimately, Susenyos, our Catholic negus, like Za Dengel before him, also lacked the means to effectively impose Catholicism. The dreamed for or expected Portuguese troops never arrived and resistance from the local clergy, nobility, and peasantry became too consistent and dangerous for Susenyos's rule to survive without freedom of religion. The role of peasant resistance in this process cannot be overlooked, and this essay suggests there was an aspect of class conflict expressed in the numerous revolts and rebellions. Indeed, if Za Dengel, as Crummey suggested, had hoped to win peasant support by attacking gult and building a new military base of peasant conscripts (presumably less destructive to the peasants than the older imperial military units), Susenyos alienated the peasantry with his imposition of Catholicism and the insecurity caused by frequent rebellions, Oromo raids, and banditry. 

As stated by later scholars on the Jesuits in Ethiopia, the Society of Jesus relied on the patronage of local rulers and elites. Once circumstances changed and those groups could not or would not back them, the Jesuit mission declined and often a mass support to rally it. Ethiopian Catholicism may have had that if Susenyos's brother, Sela Christos, had been able to rally forces around him and the defeated patriarch against Fasiladas. However, due to the forced conversions and general resistance to Roman Catholicism from above and below, one doubts local Catholics would have been able to stage an effective military resistance. Aregay and Beshah cite Jesuit sources suggesting over 100,000 local Catholics by 1630, but how many of these were the result of forced or coerced conversions or, perhaps like some of the conversions to Islam under Ahmad Gran, merely acts of opportunism or self-preservation in the face of a new boss or bully? One wishes Susenyos had found a way to consolidate his government and centralize the state without imposing Catholicism, perhaps a method that could have carried out some of Za Dengel's reforms with freedom of religion for Orthodox, Catholic, Muslims, Falasha, and "pagans." Ironically, his son would go on to establish a reinvigorated Solomonic dynasty that resisted the resurgence of the provincial nobility until the mid-18th century.

Jesuit Missionary Strategies in the Horn

Although we are still only beginning to grapple with the large body of literature on the Jesuits in Ethiopia, Cohen's Missionary Strategies of the Jesuits in Ethiopia (1555-1632) is a good overview on Jesuit strategies of evangelizing. Based on Portuguese, Jesuit, and Ethiopian sources, Cohen succeeds in demonstrating the key areas of religious, political, cultural, and theological contention and proselytization. Unlike other areas of Africa, Asia, or the Americas, the Jesuits perceived Ethiopia to be more "civilized" (like China and Japan) and an area of schismatic Christianity in need of reformation. For these reasons, the Jesuits employed sophisticated techniques of Christological debate, biblical exegesis, translation, theater, architectonics, and top-down evangelization based on the hopes of converting the emperor and nobility. The Catholic Counter-Reformation also influenced the Jesuit mission as a reformed Church sought to standardize rituals, centralize authority, and counter Protestant theological debate. 

Ethiopian Christianity's encounter with Roman Catholicism naturally led to conflict, evolution, and the discovery of shared commonalities. Jesuits, for instance, realized the Ethiopian Church drew from the same sources (the Bible, patristic literature). Both also shared a similar belief in the uses of icons and visual arts and the practice of Eucharist and baptism. Nonetheless, Ethiopian persistence in circumcision, anti-Chalcedonian perspectives, adherence to the Alexandrian See, lack of uniformity in some sacraments, observance of the Sabbath, and frequency of divorce revealed huge differences. The debate between the two Churches appears to have played a major role in fomenting Ethiopian religious literature that sought to clarify and define the tenets of the church. Some of this literature was clearly influenced by earlier Ge'ez translations of Church Fathers, and appears to have influenced subsequent internal theological debate within the Ethiopian Christian tradition. The Jesuit debate with local clergy and monks reminds us of their arguments with Buddhist priests in Japan. 

However, according to Cohen, the Jesuits did not properly prepare themselves for the centrifugal forces in Ethiopian Christianity which opposed them, particularly monastic clergy, members of the nobility, and the political crises and rebellions which forced Susenyos to restore freedom of worship. The near total conquest by Muslims in the 1500s had further fragmented the Church while ongoing Oromo expansion further weakened the authority of the Solomonic emperors. Perhaps seeing the absolutizing tendencies of the Jesuits as something that could strengthen their authority, Za Dengel and Susenyos favored the Jesuits. Unfortunately for the latter, Za Dengel's assassination and the inability of Susenyos to end revolts flight of hermits or monks, and stifle resistance to the prohibitions imposed on the Orthodox faith entailed an end of the mission when the political support from the top disappeared under the next emperor. Anyway, it looks like our next read into this topic will have to be either Caraman, the short work coauthored by Merid Wolde Aregay or the hagiography of Walatta Petros. 

Ethiopia and the Red Sea

Mordechai Abir's Ethiopia and the Red Sea probably should have been given an alternative title. Besides one chapter on the role of the Red Sea and the Indian Ocean in Ethiopia's trade networks and Ottoman versus Portuguese conflicts for dominance of the Red Sea, Persian Gulf, and Indian Ocean, this book is mostly a narrative history of the Solomonic dynasty of Ethiopia from it's expansion in the 1300s to the era right before the Gondarine period. So, Abir's study builds on earlier research by the author and the scholarship of Tamrat and other Ethiopianists to analyze why the Solomonic dynasty failed to establish a more integrated, centralized state in the Horn of Africa. Lacking familiarity with most of the sources utilized by Abir, we cannot determine how accurate or misleading some of his interpretations are, but he did not really utilize Ethiopian sources in Ge'ez so one cannot help but think that skews his interpretation of certain figures, like Susenyos or the conflicts within the church between the two monastic orders over theological debates.

Besides disastrous events like the jihad of Ahmad Gran and the Oromo migrations which continued with very little Ethiopian resistance from the royal court, Abir outlines a plethora of additional factors behind the failure of the Solomonic state to develop an effective, centralized polity capable of integrating or resisting Oromo migration, modernizing, or expanding its influence in the Horn. These include an elite Church dependent on appointed abuns from Egypt, little sustained efforts at evangelizing and integrating conquered peoples, tensions between the Amhara and the northern population of Tigre, regional lords and nobility using succession and factions in the royal court to challenge or revolt the emperor, attempted military and administrative reforms that, in some cases, aided and abetted Oromo expansion into provinces of the empire. The particularly long reign of Sarsa Dengel seems to be a great example of wasted opportunities for reform and centralization, processes that could have helped Ethiopia resist or integrate the Oromo and build a "modern" state beyond the "feudal" military-administrative structure Abir describes. It's hard for this blog to not read Abir's chapter on Sarsa Dengel and not think of the opposite trends in Borno under Idris b. Ali, or Idris Alooma, who appeared to have been far more effective at defending and expanding the borders of Borno while also promoting a monotheistic religion that must have served an integrative function in its vast domains.

Of course, the most interesting and perhaps too brief chapters analyze Susenyos and the Jesuits. Susenyos is depicted as someone who believed in the superiority of Catholic or European civilization and wanted to use it as a way of modernizing the state. Earlier rulers, who had expressed an interest in European military technology and artisans, were supposedly not modernizers, despite some of them attempting various administrative and military reforms with Mamluk or European aid. Susenyos, however, was pressured by the Jesuits into thinking Portuguese-Spanish military aid would flow to Ethiopia if he agreed to impose Catholicism as the official religion. With their aid, presumably Susenyos could have created a state based on different lines, reclaimed territories lost to the Oromo, and "modernized" Ethiopia. Abir presents this as an early attempt by a non-European state to modernize long before the more famous examples of the Middle East and Egypt, but one which Ethiopia was not prepared for due to the very unlikely chances of a Portuguese military presence or expedition and the fierce resistance to the Jesuits from members of the emperor's inner circle, the native religious hierarchy, Jesuit dogmatism attacking local culture and the "feudal" lords opposed to political centralization. Since more recent scholarship has focused on the period of the Jesuit mission, we shall return to this period in Ethiopian history and some of the conclusions reached by Abir of the Gondarine period as one of decline or, perhaps, failure. 

The Glorious Victories of Amda Seyon, King of Ethiopia

Although obviously from a different time and era than the chronicles of Ahmad b. Furtu, Huntingford's translation of the royal chronicle of Amda Seyon's 1332 campaigns brought us back to Borno and the campaigns of Idris Alooma. Of course, the chroniclers of their respective kings relied on their own religious traditions and unique political and dynastic claims to legitimacy, but both created relatively detailed and panegyrical chronicles of specific military campaigns during the lengthy reigns of pivotal rulers in the Solomonic and Sayfawa dynasties. 

For instance, both Ahmad b. Furtu and the anonymous chronicler of Amda Seyon undeniably sought to justify the military campaigns of their patrons on religious grounds, with their respective kings reestablishing or restoring the true faith while engaging in large-scale military campaigns that transformed the larger region with population displacement and realignments through imperial expansion. Similarly, both chroniclers compare their patrons to their alleged illustrious forebears, Sayf and the House of Solomon with the expected references to the holy texts of their respective faiths. The major difference here, of course, would be the primary antagonism between Islam and Christianity in the case of Ethiopia while Christianity was a non-factor in Borno's campaigns during the the reign of Idris Alooma.

Despite these probably superficial parallels, we are fascinated by the idea of a comparative study of the Sayfawa and Solomonic dynasties as examples of long-lasting African political systems. Both drew on "world religions" of Christianity and Islam but of course owed much of their origins to an ancient, deeper past in their regions of the Lake Chad Basin and the Ethiopian highlands. Both also provide interesting examples of the vicissitudes of these dynasties during the 19th century and European imperialism as they transformed, declined, or, in the case of the Solomonic rulers, maintained their independence.

Church and State in Ethiopia, 1270–1527

Due to its central importance as a key study of medieval Ethiopian history, we finally read Taddesse Tamrat's important study. While definitely reflecting some of the older biases in the scholarship on ancient Ethiopia, particularly the role of speakers of Semitic languages from South Arabia as civilizing agents, it remains a definitive study of the early centuries of the Solomonic dynasty. Indeed, Tamrat's work demonstrates how effective hagiographical literature from the region can be for reconstructing the distant past. These sources of course have their limitations and raise additional problems, but Tamrat seems judicious and capable of parsing the likely and factual information from them to form a coherent historical narrative of Church-State relations. In addition to hagiographies, Ethiopian land grants, royal chronicles, and external Arabic and European sources, Tamrat occasionally uses local traditions to shed further light on the contours of the Solomonic state's development.

Tamrat's study basically outlines the development of the Solomonic dynasty from 1270 until the period before Ahmad Gragn nearly defeated the Solomonic rulers of the Christian state. Beginning with the somewhat dated overview of Aksumite origins and Christianity in the region through the Zagwe dynasty, Tamrat proceeds to cover the next few centuries. Territorial expansion under the Solomonic rulers, particularly Amda-Seyon, favored the resurgence and growth of monastic communities, evangelization of some conquered peoples, an efflorescence of Ethiopian literature, and the Christian kingdom becoming the dominant power in the region. Already one can see Ethiopian Christianity diverging from the Coptic Church, especially over the issue of observance of the Sabbath (seen as a Jewish custom by the Patriarchs in Alexandria). 

Religious differences within the Ethiopian Christian community, conflicts with pagan and Muslim neighbors and subjects, and complications with Muslim rulers of Egypt and Alexandria all illustrate how Ethiopian Christianity was never isolated or removed from the fate of the state. Thus, under strong rulers like Zara Yaqob, the Church was unified and the force of the government assisted monastic communities, the spread of churches, and even Ethiopian communication with Christian Europe. Unfortunately, the problems of succession, the dependence on the Egyptian bishop to ordain local priests, Muslim expansion under Adal, and the failure to integrate subjugated "pagan" and Muslims paved the path to the near disintegration of the Empire in the 1500s.

In some respects, the Solomonic dynasty reminds this blog of our favorite African imperial line, the Sayfawa. Although obviously distinct as one was Muslim and the other Christian, both lasted for several centuries. Both experienced periods of decline, civil war, succession crises, conflicts with "pagan" neighbors (and, according to some sources, "Christian Kwararafa" or Christian "Gaoga" opposed the Sayfawa), and a strong association with their official religions. Indeed, studies of the ulama and Islam in Kanem-Borno illustrate a similar close association between the ruling house and their monotheistic religion. Of course, the surviving written sources from Ethiopia significantly outnumber what we have for Kanem-Borno, but one wonders to what extent a comparative perspective on the two dynasties might reveal for African precolonial political longevity, religion, intellectual development, or even statecraft. Naturally, the Horn of Africa was better known to the outside world at an earlier date than the Lake Chad Basin, but we still think there is something to be said for contextualizing the development of these long-lasting dynasties in a "Sudanic" context.

Poncet's Voyage to Ethiopia

Charles Jacques Poncet's relation of his voyage to Ethiopia in the late 17th century is a fascinating portrait of the Funj Sultanate in today's Sudan and Solomonic Ethiopia under Emperor Iyasu I. Ostensibly voyaging to Ethiopia to provide medical services to the Ethiopian ruler, Poncet was involved with a plan to reintroduce the Jesuits into Ethiopia while also promoting the idea of an Ethiopian embassy to Louis XVI. As a reputable physician in Cairo, Poncet seemed perfect for the mission, and left behind a very flattering portrait of Ethiopia for his French and European readers. While the Jesuits never did become a significant force in Gondarine Ethiopia, and the Ethiopian embassy to France failed to reach the court of Louix XIV, Poncet is one of our richest sources on Ethiopia and the Funj Sultanate. 

Ethiopians may have distrusted Jesuits and Catholics, as well as practicing forms of discrimination against local Muslims, but Ethiopia from Fasiladas to Iyasu I cannot be said to have practiced isolationist policies. In addition to attempted overtures to the Mughals in India and the Dutch East India Company in Batavia during the second half of the 17th century, Poncet portrays close relations and economic ties between the Funj Sultanate and the Solomonic rulers of Ethiopia. Indeed, a brother of reigning king of Sennar was living at the court of Iyasu I, and trade ties were close between the two regions. One almost sees Ethiopia, and the capital Gondar, as being part of the larger "Sudanic" and Nile Valley trade systems that intersected with Mediterranean and trans-Saharan networks. In addition, Ethiopia benefited from the Funj's trade across the Red Sea and Indian Ocean while also having relations with the Ottoman Pasha in Massawa. Thus, Gondarine Ethiopia appears to have been a node in Sudanic, trans-Saharan, Northeast African caravan trade, and Indian Ocean networks that stretched to India and Europe. 

Unfortunately, Poncet did not provide more details on the movement of people and goods between the Funj Sultanate and Gondarine Ethiopia. Both rulers split the duties on cotton exported to Ethiopia from Sennar at the market town of Chelga, and "Gebertis" Muslims from Ethiopia seem to have played a key role in commerce between the states. Poncet also mentioned an Ethiopian in Sennar who had converted to Islam, a Joseph, who was executed. Nevertheless, it makes one ponder the links Gondarine Ethiopia may have already had with lands further west, such as Kordofan, Darfur, and the Lake Chad Region. If caravans were active between Borno and the Funj, and Muslim pilgrims from "Takrur" were possibly already traveling the "Sudan" road, perhaps Gondarine Ethiopia also looked to western lands for additional economic and political relations. This is pure speculation on our part, but we hope to learn more about Gondarine Ethiopia's relations with the Funj and other lands to the west in order to examine this larger African context. 

Axum

A short documentary worthwhile for intriguing interviews with an archaeologist on ancient Axum. In addition, we are treated with images of Axumite architecture, including some of the stunning elite cemeteries. Enjoy!

Black Kunlun Slaves in Premodern China

Source

Kunlun figure discovered in the tomb of a Chinese woman in Tang-era Chang'an (850 CE), capital of that dynasty. Kunlun by the T'ang period often meant 'black Africans,' as in, people from the eastern coast of Africa (from the Juba River to Cape Delgado and perhaps Madagascar). Black people went from a mere philosophical abstraction to actual beings walking the streets of Guangzhou, serving wealthy Chinese masters (and Arab, Persian, and sometimes other foreign traders active in that cosmopolitan port (yet not too cosmopolitan because the movement of foreigners was highly restricted).

Of course, to the pre-modern Han Chinese, who are a perfect example of historical non-European forms of whiteness (they perceived themselves as such), often used the word 'kunlun' to describe darker peoples of Southeast Asia (such as the Malays or Javanese) and South Asia (Sri Lanka, Malabar, etc.), but these 'kunlun' slaves (kunlun originally referred to the far west, to the Kunlun mountains of Tibet, and therefore connoted remoteness) slaves were described as having dark skin, curly hair, 'black as ink,' etc. Lexical evidence would suggest an origin for these 'black slaves' in eastern Africa, likely arriving in China on the ships of Arabs and Persians and purchased by some wealthy Chinese in Guangzhou and other ports of the empire. Thus, blackness was associated with servility, inferiority, etc. centuries before the coming of Europeans in East Asia. Indeed, revulsion towards the allegedly cultural deficiencies of the various types of 'kunlun' often emphasized their blackness, particularly Zhu Yu's writings in the Song dynasty.

Yet, in short stories from the T'ang era, these black slaves could be brave, courageous, resourceful, and show some sign of assimilation into Chinese society. The Chinese Confucianist universalist ideal (basically, anyone could become civilized if they accepted and assimilated into the Middle Kingdom's 'superior culture') could seemingly apply to fictional black slaves, but in the Song dynasty these black slaves were seen as bestial and semi-human, at best. Chinese knowledge of eastern Africa and 'black people' from Africa is certainly interesting and the Guangzhou black slaves certainly deserve more attention, just as the Jews of Kaifeng and other ethnic and religious minorities in pre-modern China get. Furthermore, this area of study reveals how some East Asian stigmatization and stereotypes of blackness (and not just dark-skinned Asians, but people from Africa directly) predated European modern racism by several centuries, although culture more than skin color remained the major reason for Chinese disdain and revulsion towards 'blacks' though they had no direct experience or ties to blacks beyond word of mouth via Arabs and Persians. Indeed, Zhu Yu describes converting the slaves from a raw food diet to cooked food (cooked food being seen as essential to any civilization by the Han), which is certainly exaggerating the diets of Africans while also speaking to the capacity of black slaves to be 'civilized' (but they supposedly still couldn't learn to speak Chinese??).

Indeed, as Sino-African relations become more complex in the 21st century world, and sometimes in surprising or new ways (check out this), learning more about how Sino-African contact and exchange worked before the rise of the West will certainly draw more interest from scholars and the general public. My main source for this has been Wyatt's The Blacks of Premodern China, and expect a follow up post later today or tomorrow.

Origins of Slaves Imported at the Cape, 1652-1808

The Swahili Coast: East Africa and the Indian Ocean

Ibn Battuta, 14th century Moroccan traveler
When he visited Mogadishu, Kilwa, and other parts of the East African coast, Battuta made sure to identify most of the inhabitants as "black-skinned Zanj," also taking note of facial scarification and the beautiful architecture of the region, particularly Kilwa. Furthermore, Ibn Battuta describes the inhabitants of Zeila and Berbera as black people, clearly distinguishing them from lighter-skinned Arab Muslims from the Arabian peninsula. Read the following from Ibn Battuta's own writings: We stayed one night in this island [Mombasa], and then pursued our journey to Kulwa, which is a large town on the coast. The majority of its inhabitants are Zanj, jet-black in colour, and with tattoo marks on their faces." He goes on to describe the trade in gold and other resources between the coastal Swahili town of Sofala and interior peoples, in this case, the Shona and other cultures that produces the hundreds of 'zimbabwes' across modern Mozambique and Zimbabwe. Based on archaeological work, Chinese porcelain and presumably textiles from the "Middle East," India, and Asia were traded in exchange for gold, ivory, iron, and other eastern African products of the hinterland societies. The slave trade only in later centuries emerged as a major commodity in East Africa during the 18th and 19th centuries when actual Arabs did settle in Zanzibar and establish imperial control over large sections of the East African coast. Neverthelesss, Zanzibar literally means land of the blacks, from the Persian "Zanj" for dark-skinned peoples of the East African coast.

Palace of the Sultan of Kilwa, likely made in the 14th century or earlier. Interestingly, Ibn Battuta describes Kilwa and Mombasa as cities expertly constructed with wood and ranks the Swahili towns as among the most beautiful in the world. However, as one can clearly see here, the use of coral stone and other types of stone for construction means that by the end of the 1st millenium CE, Swahili towns were also using large amounts of stone with some Islamic influences in the mosques and palaces. Archaeologists have also uncovered continuity in the transition from pre-stone to stone cities, with a general "African" layout of the pre-Islamic 

Henry Louis Gates, Jr. did a problematic documentary series that included an episode about the Swahili coast that simply reiterated some of the worst previously held beliefs on the origin of Swahili city-states. Watch it here, the second half of the video. However, some of the waSwahili reinforce these beliefs, especially an elder in the ancient town of Lamu, off the coast of Kenya. Though obviously of African ancestry, he claims he has no African ancestry, which has a complex origin that Gates never interrogates. He does, however, demonstrate the African origins of the Swahili through archaeology (the ancient ruins of Shanga, the Bantu-origins of kiSwahili and how the British colonial government favored those who identified with Arabs, thus giving an incentive for colonized subjects to claim an Arab identity). Furthermore, Gates shows his views evidence of widespread, African-derived spirit cults and spirit possession, something one rarely sees with Persians and Arab Muslims from the "Middle East." Thus, Gates does some justice, simply by giving life and visuals to the fascinating world of the Swahili coast and key ancient towns, such as Mombasa, Lamu, Gedi (ancient city with plumbing!, and Zanzibar. One of the problems with how Gates treats the Swahili's history is neglect of the fact that many latched on Arab or Persian lineages because of their Islamic faith.

Iskander (Alexander the Great Fighting people of Zanzibar. From Persia. Ignore the fact that Alexander never reached Zanzibar...)

Basil Davidson, well-known English historian, also included the Swahili coast in a documentary on Africa. Watch it here to see Davidson take the view to many of the same Swahili ruins and towns constructed with coral stone. Furthermore, he also includes unique aspects of Swahili architecture, such as the pillar tombs, as part of Swahili local variation and stylistic independence from Middle Eastern Islamic architecture.

Here, this article explains through analysis of skeletal remains from early Swahili coastal settlements that the peoples of the coast were essentially "Negroid" or closely related to hinterland inhabitants of modern Kenya and Tanzania. This article from the Field Museum says the same, that early Swahili settlements, at least from the sites they've excavated, were more like neighboring East Africans from the interior rather than "Arabs" or Persians. Archaeological expeditions as well as analyses of physical remains have dispelled any myths about Arab or Persian colonization of the East African coast in distant times. Trade with this region goes back to the days of the Roman Empire, when Rhapta and coastal areas of the Horn of Africa were involved and connected with the Indian Ocean world. Furthermore, the ancient kingdom of Axum was a naval power in the southern Red Sea and one specialist in the Swahili world argued for influence from the Horn of Africa for the unique and beautiful coral stone architecture appearing at some Swahili ruin sites.

Part of the confusion regarding Swahili origins are the fictive lineages and oral traditions of the waSwahili themselves, often linking themselves to Arab and Persian colonizer myths. Part of this stems from the Swahili's Islamic faith, which distinguishes them from other East Africans in Kenya, Tanzania, and Mozambique. Furthermore, Africans from the interior were often labelled washenzi and considered 'barbarians' because of their lack of Islam. In order to increase their prestige within the broader Islamic world during the period of Omani dominance from Zanzibar, as well as British colonialism, many claimed Arab or Persian descent as a further method of raising their status in a time of universal denigration of Africans as black savages and slaves. The irony is that many of the Swahili themselves are descendants of slaves from East and Central Africa who gradually converted to Islam and became part of the Swahili cultural zone in the 18th and 19th centuries. Another contributory factor is the attribution of their origins in the Pate Chronicle and other oral and written traditions to Persian, specifically Shirazi, immigrants who intermarried with local peoples. This is plausible in that foreign traders likely did intermarry with local elites in the early centuries of Swahili trade with the Indian Ocean world, but the long history of 'civilization' on the coast predates significant Arab or Persian immigration. However, as a cosmopolitan region of the world connected to Southwest Asia, India, and China, many local elites probably did intermarry with Arabs or Asians. That did not change their perception by others though, since Ibn Battuta identified the Swahili of the 14th century as dark-skinned people with facial tattoos, hardly similar to Islamic Arabs and Southwest Asians.

Another problem with the effort to identify the Swahili with Arab civilizations colonizing the coast is the obvious fact that Swahili is a Bantu language. Though it has many loan words of Arabic origin, it's fundamentally Bantu and closely related to other East African Bantu languages, part of the reason it became a lingua franca in pre-colonial East Africa. The Swahili even used the Arabic script to write in their own language, composing poetry and histories of their particular towns. Their use of mtepes, or advanced ships and nautical knowledge was likely influenced by Arab sailors, which may be reflected in the vocabulary pertaining to sailing. Regardless, the Swahili were connected to the Comoros islands, likely traded with Madagascar, and perhaps crossed the Indian Ocean themselves since Swahili cultural material has been uncovered in port towns in Southwestern Asia and India. In addition, al-Masudi, a 10th century geographer, describes unique royalism rooted in East African Bantu-speaking concepts of kingship and royal regalia, as well as the term mfalme for the kings of the Swahili coast.

Chinese documents also reveal the dark-skinned, East African indigenes of "Bobali" (modern Somalia) and other parts of the coast. The people are described as dark-skinned with tightly curled hair, features that could be found in some Southeast Asians, but, in the context of East Africa, demonstrate that the Swahili coast has always been inhabited primarily by 'black' Swahili people.

In spite of my purpose of writing this post to prove beyond doubt the "African" origins of Swahili civilization, I understand cultures advance through interactions with others and the cosmopolitan world of the Swahili coast clearly interacted with a much broader world than East Africa. No cultures exist in a vacuum, and clearly, every culture changes over time. Also, no such thing as a monolithic African culture exists, but it remains important for Africanists such as myself to disprove assumptions about a lack of African agency and innovation. Thus, many African archaeologists and historians have gone to great lengths to prove unquestionably the African origins of the Swahili peoples. They have done so through analyses of ancient crania from the 1st millenium CE, reviews of written sources from Arabic, Persian, Chinese, and European records, as well as archaeological work that has demonstrated continuity in architectural patters, unique pottery related to that of geographically close hinterland societies, the Bantu structure of the Swahili language, and the unique aspects of Swahili kingship, as well as Swahili religious expression, music, and spirituality.