Gold Coast and "Mina" Captives in Saint Domingue

We have been searching through runaway ads posted in Saint Domingue's newspaper, Affiches américaines. A number of runaways were of the "Arada" or "Mina" nations, often vague terms referring to the Bight of Benin and Gold Coast as places where the captives were purchased and shipped across the Atlantic. We decided to share some of the ads for interesting cases of people from this broad region, particularly those with names, origins, or skills that shed light on the Gold Coast/Slave Coast in the 18th century. Like the above example, a Mina named Carabi. 

Another interesting case is a maroon named Codiot, perhaps the name Kwadwo used by Akan peoples. 

Another Akan name that appears among Africans of the "Mina" nation is Cofy, likely the Akan Koffi. 

Akan names like Coichy, probably Kwasi, can similarly be found among "Mina" Africans in colonial Haiti.

Apia, possibly the Akan name Appiah, was another Akan-derived name found among "Mina" blacks. Or he was perhaps named after the Apia of Greece...

An "Aguia" black named Couaminan might be a Kwamina, another Akan-derived name. 

Another Koffi, or Coffi, was a maroon of the Cramanti-Adia background. Cramanti was the Coromantee of the British West Indies, and Adia may be a reference to the Aja, or Adja, peoples.

An "Arada" named Kwaku from 1785. If "Arada" captives could have Akan-derived names, one wonders if this one was of Ewe origin.  

Sometimes, the "Mina" were listed as Amine. Here we have another Coffi, who apparently spoke the language of Curacao, Papiamento.

Another "Mine" was specified as a "Quimbou-Mine" in the colony. There is a street in Accra called Kinbu, perhaps "Quimbou" being a reference to an area of what is now Accra?

A Bandia African who was only in Saint Domingue for three months, was said to speak the "Mine" language. 

As if things weren't complicated enough, the Mallais, Malez, or Male nation were present in the colony. Since the word appears to be derived from the word for Muslims used in Allada and other parts of today's Benin, they were presumably Muslims or captives supplied by Muslim traders from the North. Since the French slave traders sometimes used the word Gold Coast for parts of the Slave Coast, it is probable that the latter coast was intended here. 

Yet another ambiguous case is Bayard, of the Otam nation. Since the "Gold Coast" in this context could have included parts of the Slave Coast, Otam might have nothing to do with Ghana. Indeed, the Otam name was associated with a people in the Calabar region. Yet, Oldendorp wrote of a "nation" of people called Attem who were neighbors of the Kassenti, or Tjemba.

Last, the case of Marie. Possibly Ibo or Cramanti, she was said to speak the two languages. If she was actually "Ibo" in origin, then one wonders if she learned the "Cramanti" language in West Africa or in Saint Domingue.

The Northern Factor in Ashanti History

Ivor Wilks wrote an intriguing monograph several decades ago, The Northern Factor in Ashanti History. Due to our similar interest in the "northern factor" in Yoruba history (and, to a lesser extent, Dahomey and Borgu history), we found it imperative to actually read it. Wilks presents what may be a sometimes exaggerated role of Islam in 18th century and early 19th century Asante, but it does seem quite likely that trade routes to the North through Begho and later centers was of paramount importance. Like the Oyo Yoruba state, the Asante state appears to have tapped into both Atlantic and broader Sudanic/trans-Saharan trade routes. 

Unlike Oyo, the Ashanti did not require large amounts of imported horses for cavalry units. Nonetheless, the gold and kola nuts of Ghana were highly valuable commodities that brought traders from both the Western and Central Sudan into the region. Through control of or taxation of trade routes used by these northern traders, the Asante state could derive great revenues as well as import cloth and other goods not available from the trade with Europeans on the coast. Aspects of this history is revealed by written sources from Gonja and the north. European accounts plus other sources similarly shed light on the importance of these northern ties that linked this part of Ghana with the Middle Niger, the Sahara, and Hausaland. 

West African Muslims from far afield, in addition to Muslims from areas to the north conquered by Asante, were also a valued community for their literacy, the esteem in which their religion was held, and their economic importance. Whether or not Dupuis's "sketch" of Asante history as revealed to him by manuscripts and conversations with notable Muslims in Kumasi is very reliable for how the Asante themselves saw their history, it is nonetheless important to recall that the Asante rulers sponsored a history, or chronicle,  written by Muslims. The attempt by Wilks to reproduce the accounts given to Dupuis reveals just how problematic this source material can be, though it does reveal how one could and should endeavor to utilize Arabic and European sources (plus oral traditions) to make sense of the history of the Asante. 

Chronicles from Gonja

Chronicles from Gonja collects and translates several Arabic manuscripts of a historical nature from kingdom of Gonja. Founded sometime in the mid-16th century by a warrior from the Mali Empire, Gonja was later made a tributary of the Asante Empire. However, the longstanding ties of trade in gold, kola nuts, textiles, and other goods had connected northern Ghana with the Western Sudan region since the Middle Ages. Even before the foundation of Gonja as a conquest state, Wangara merchants had already been active in the region. After its establishment, the warrior "estate" then established a close alliance with the Wangara and Islamic scholars. Later, Asante expansion northward in the 18th century began to encroach upon Gonja, eventually reducing it to a vassal state. Nonetheless, Gonja's literate Muslims were active in Kumase, writing charms, serving as advisors, and recording chronicles, letters, and prayers. 

The texts translated by Levtzion and commented upon by Ivor Wilks and Bruce Haight mainly date from the 18th and 19th centuries. The more substantial ones, such as the Tarikh Ghinja and the Kitab Ghanja, essentially present the history of Gonja's rulers from its origins in the 16th century to the second half of the 18th century. One even adopts the typical form of annals of the style of Islamic historiography. Nonetheless, many of the texts translated here reflect low standards of literacy or fluency in the Arabic tongue. Perhaps the scarcity of paper or the lower state of scholars who produced copies of older manuscripts is to blame here. Despite these aforementioned problems, and issues of copyists incorrectly replacing Bighu with Segu or confusing the names of Gonja sultans, the texts do provide a wealth of information on the region of northern Ghana and surrounding areas. 

The Wangara and/or Malinke elements were a bridge who linked the Akan peoples to the south with the Western Sudan, trans-Saharan trade, and, undoubtedly, with the Hausa trade in kola nuts. Indeed, sources such as the Wangara Chronicle indicate how influential Muslim Malinke traders were in Hausaland, just as their presence in Gonja was inextricably linked to Gonja's ruling estate, the Ngbanya. So, in a sense, the Wangara were a bridge connecting areas like Gonja and Dagomba with the Western and Central Sudan. Indeed, a rare reference to a man of Borno in Kafaba in the Tarikh Ghunja, if reliable, indicates a Borno presence in this region early in Gonja's existence. In addition, an allusion to the death of a Gonja pilgrim in a village of Katsina, while returning from Mecca, testifies to another dimension of Gonja's ties to the Central Sudan. Instead of, say, taking a pilgrimage route that went to the Middle Niger Valley and then crossed the Sahara, this pilgrim, at least on his return trip, traveled through Hausaland. Thus, in our eyes, the northern region of Ghana offer an intriguing case of a region with close ties to both the Western and Central Sudan, contributing to the formation of trading diasporas linked by gold, kola nuts, and Islam. 

Asante and Its Neighbors

J.K. Fynn's brief Asante and Its Neighbors, 1700-1807 seeks to elucidate the rise of Asante under Osei Tutu to its position as the predominant power of the Gold Coast by the early 1800s. While mainly relying on records of the European trading posts and forts on the coast and occasional oral or ethnographic evidence, Fynn's narrative account appears to follow an accurate chronology of Asentehenes also used by scholars like Wilks. The Asante, who were little known to the Europeans in the late 17th century, were able to seize upon the opportunities of greater trade and access to firearms to pursue political and economic expansion. The "northern factor" was also relevant for the trade in gold, ivory, kola nuts, textiles, and slaves with markets in the Sudanic land and trans-Saharan networks. However, access to firearms gave an advantage to the Asante against the militaries of the Dagomba, Gonja, and others. However, Asante access to the coast was hindered by the Fanti and, at various times, by other polities of the Gold Coast. Thus, the history of 18th century Asante, according to Fynn, is, to a large part, the tale of Asante expansion to the south, subjugation of other polities as tributaries, and the eventual establishment of Asante control of the southern ports in the early decades of the 19th century. Unfortunately for them, however, the British commitment to anti-slave trade measures became a problem just as the Asante achieved more complete, unhindered access to the coast.

Part of the problem of the Asante state in the 18th century was the failure of Osei Tutu, who, despite his excellence as the founder of the state who bequeathed a number of customs and practices to foster unity, to develop a more effective administrative system for ruling conquered peoples. Opoku Ware, his successor, attempted reforms that were later blocked by provincial rulers. This, plus ongoing revolts, internal discord, and struggles with the vassals made it difficult for Asante to emerge as the hegemon of the region until closer to the end of the period under examination. Fortunately, later rulers, like Osei Kwadwo, were able to accomplish administrative reforms with a bureaucracy that improved imperial administration. The Asante rulers may have also relied heavily on access to northern markets (and captives, such as the "Duncoes" and their Akwamu allies to still receive firearms, trade goods, and find areas for political expansion. Asante's conquest of Gonja and Dagomba, for instance, must have assisted with these aims as Asante expansion to the coast was hindered by the Fanti or tributary states in rebellion. The northern factor, therefore, must have remained of great political, military and economic significance while the Atlantic trade with European was ultimately the source for the Asante's expansion through access to muskets and gunpowder. Trying to understand this dynamic role of northern trade and Atlantic trade in the fortune of West African states like Asante and Oyo seems especially relevant, even though Asante did not rely on cavalry supplied by horse imports from northern trade.

Of interest for our purposes is Fynn's comments on the "Dunko" or "Dunkoes" sold into slavery from the Gold Coast. According to sources cited by Fynn, the word "Donko" meant slave. In addition, the Dunkos often had tribal marks on their faces and were often associated with northern territories like Dagomba, Mossi, Frafraf and others. We know from the Arabic chronicles of northern Ghana and contemporary Europeans at the coast that the Asante were active in north in the 1740s and again in the 1770s and subsequent decades. Indeed, a revolt against the Asante in 1780-1781 was likely one of the Dagomba, referred to as Duncoes. The Dunkos of Saint Domingue, or colonial Haiti, were therefore a mix of people from what is now northern Ghana and surrounding areas. Some of these Dunkoes or Dokos were also maroons of Le Maniel. If some of them were natives of Dagomba, then perhaps there may even have been an Islamic presence among the Duncoes in Saint Domingue. To what extent the Dunko were associated with marronage raises even more questions.

Nkrumah and the Ghana Revolution

In my perhaps foolish quest to gradually read every book ever written by C.L.R. James, I finally tackled Nkrumah and the Ghana Revolution. Focusing on the movement for Ghanaian independence and the relationship between the masses and leadership (as embodied in Nkrumah), the relatively short work provides an interesting avenue to consider The Black Jacobins and the role of colonial peoples in shaping world revolution. Like Toussaint Louverture, Nkrumah emerges as a leader made by the masses, absorbing the best of the West and applying it to the particular conditions of the underdeveloped colony of the Gold Coast. Moreover, Nkrumah would, like Toussaint, make some of his own mistakes once in power to protect the revolution. 

While the appendix material makes one perhaps wonder to what extent James was taken in by charismatic post-independence leaders, there is undeniably much of use to be learned from the experience of the Ghana independence movement, especially in consideration of the all-pervasive myth of African incapacity for self-government. Even the so-called backwards colonial peoples who suffer from illiteracy and allegedly primitive social organizations (tribe and chiefs in the villages) are capable of the most remarkable organization, taking advantage of new technology to demolish every argument of the West against African self-rule. This shows, like the enslaved Africans of Saint Domingue, the capacity of the masses to usher in revolutionary change and shape the course of history.

Unfortunately, the text does not fully analyze the fall of Nkrumah's administration, but it points to the larger structural impediments to the African state (especially the political economy of corruption as intimately linked to the prominence of the state in the control of the economy, unlike the West where corruption could flourish in their more developed private sectors). So, all things considered, Nkrumah and the Ghana Revolution is an interesting work in terms of the larger political significance of The Black Jacobins, which foresaw African independence. Now I must read what James had to say about party politics in the West Indies and more of his analysis of the Russian Revolution.