Lake Chad in the Beatus Map

Whilst perusing Jean Maley's "Histoire lac Tchad durant le dernier millénaire" online recently, we noticed that the author proposed an early map depicting Lake Chad from medieval Europe. The Beatus map follows the conventions of medieval European cartography inspired by Ptolemy, but does depict a large lake south of the Sahara (Deserta arenosa, or sandy desert?) in what would roughly be the Lake Chad region. The connection to the Nile does match the incorrect view of Islamic geographers that Lake Chad and the Nile were connected. It probably resulted from a mistaken belief that the Bahr el Ghazal and the Nile were one and the same. But is it possible this map only placed Lake Chad in its correct location through chance or error? It's clearly based on ancient maps since it still refers to the "Isle of Meroe" and does not name specific places in the Lake Chad Basin. Yet unlike Isidore of Seville, the large lake believed to be the source of the Nile is not named Nilides, nor does this match show the river turning south before rising north to Egypt. 

Aksum and Nubia

George Hatke's Aksum and Nubia: Warfare, Commerce, and Political Fictions in Ancient Northeast Africa is a short but rather persuasive study of Aksum's relations with Kush (Nubia) during the early centuries of our era. Based primarily on Aksumite sources such as inscriptions, relevant archaeological material, and occasionally Greco-Roman, Coptic, Syriac, and other Near Eastern textual sources, Hatke argues persuasively that Aksum and Kush, despite their proximity, did not interact in significant ways. Instead of being seen as commercial rivals or states which exerted significant influences on each other, the two appear to have only engaged in small-scale trade. Aksum was mainly oriented to the Red Sea and Indian Ocean for its commercial contacts with the broader world. Kush, or the Meroitic state, on the other hand, focused on the Nile and contacts with Egypt for its long-distance trade. Since the two northeast African polities possessed different commercial axes and thus did not have any reason to be commercial rivals, Aksum and Meroe engaged in small-scale trade without much interaction beyond this. Instead of any major cultural or economic influences on each other, Aksum's interests in the modern-day Sudan were more focused on the Beja/Blemmyes of the Eastern Desert. 

Indeed, records of Aksumite intervention or spheres of influence among the Beja to the borders of Roman Egypt in the 3rd century testify to the importance of security in the Eastern Desert area and Aksumite interests in the Red Sea coasts of Africa and Arabia. Aksum appears to have also been more invested in South Arabia, the Ethiopian Highlands, and parts of the Ethiopian-Sudan borderlands for economic and political expansion, with Nubia only being invaded during the reign of Ousanas and Ezana in the 4th century. In fact, according to Hatke, relying on the inscriptions of Ezanas and linguistic clues about Ge'ez, Greek, and South Arabian languages, has dated Ezana's famous Nubia campaign to March 360. His father appears to have also attacked Nubia, leaving evidence at Meroe itself. The son, however, was only in Nubia to launch a punitive campaign against the Noba, who had caused trouble on Aksum's frontier with groups such as the Barya. Meroe itself is not even mentioned in the inscriptions of Ezana's campaign, although some Kushite towns and people were undoubtedly captured or killed in the Aksumite raid. This political situation in Nubia possibly reflects the political fragmentation of Kush by 360, with Nubian-speaking Noba and Kushites perhaps acting independently of whatever authority remained at Meroe. Instead of Ezana wielding the final blow to Kush as an independent state, whatever authority was still claimed by the Kushite rulers may have been limited by the political fragmentation of Nubia. Further evidence from the toponyms in the inscriptions that Ezana's campaign did not affect Meroe but likely targeted towns to its north also suggest the ancient capital's demise should not be attributed to Aksum. 

Despite Aksumite claims to Kush as one of its vassal territories, the available evidence suggests this was often political fiction. Indeed, according to Hatke, it is very likely that Ezana's campaign in Nubia led to no long-last political suzerainty of the Noba. Furthermore, Aksumite sources from the 6th century king, Kaleb, also claimed Kush as part of Aksum's dominion, even though the Kushite state had ended by the late 4th century. Indeed, even in earlier moments in the 4th century, when Aksumite raids and campaigns reached Nubia, it is possible that the "tribute" sent by Kush to Aksum was actually more along the lines of gift diplomacy. Even the 6th contacts between Aksum and Nubia, suggested by Longinus meeting Aksumites in Alodia and the proposal by Emperor Justin to provide Nubian and Blemmye mercenaries for Aksum's use in Himyar, do not suggest large-scale trade, cultural influence or contacts. Nubia and Ethiopia, despite their proximity and some common interest in their frontier, and both impacted by the Eastern Desert nomads and the Beja, appear to have diverged from the period of Aksum's rise to the end of the kingdom. While the question of Nubian-Ethiopian contacts in the Middle Ages offers more avenues for contact, archaeologists have a lot of work to do in the borderlands.

Ancient Nubia

P.L. Shinnie's Ancient Nubia manages the nearly impossible task of covering thousands of years of Nubian history from prehistoric times until the fall of the Christian kingdoms. Obviously, to cover so much time in a short volume requires omissions. Nonetheless, Shinnie's readable account is a nice summary of what was known at the time about the general history of Nubia. And while he occasionally expressed a strange, perhaps outdated perspective on "race" and the A-Group and C-Group peoples as "non-negro" or not black, Shinnie's survey stresses continuity as a major factor in Nubia's cultural history. Thus, the A-Group, C-Group, Kerma/Kush, Napatan, and Meroitic phases in the region's history present several areas of continuity. The "Egyptianized" elites of the period of New Kingdom rule and the Napatan-Meroitic phase are perhaps an expected result of centuries of Egyptian domination. However, even they inherited much from Kush and applied Egyptian models to local conditions and needs. That said, the Meroitic phase, perhaps the one in which rule urbanism, the arts, and trade were at their zenith, could have received a longer chapter. After all, if Meroe represented the zenith of the Napata-Meroe rulers, why not dedicate more space to theories of its development, ideology, and relations with the neighboring areas of Africa and the ancient world? And speaking of Meroe, why so little to say about Alwa, despite that region of Nubia likely benefitting from rain-fed cultivation as well as pastoralism and river-based agriculture? Certainly Alwa may have presented a medieval example comparable to Meroe's greatness.

Nubian Renaissance of the Funj

Although Spaulding's coauthored Kingdoms of Sudan includes much of the analysis found in his earlier dissertation, we felt a need to read the original for more context. Ostensibly a history of the Funj Sultanate's northern Abdallab state or region from 1600-1821, in practice the dissertation is organized in two parts: political history of the Abdallab state or provincial kingdom of the Funj Sultanate and an analysis of Islam and commerce as forces undermining the Sultanate. Spaulding uses oral traditions, the Funj Chronicle, the Tabaqat and various external sources in his endeavor to reconstruct the outline of the Abdallab as well as the Funj. Funj origins and their Sultanate as a "Sudanic" state sharing many commonalities with a string of kingdoms stretching from Senegambia to Sinnar (Sennar) is a persistent theme. The Funj state as a non-tribal, non-Arab, polyethnic Nubian state with continuity from the medieval Christian kingdoms is likewise a consistent theme.

The idea of the Funj as a southern Nubian people pushed from their homeland along the White Nile by the Shilluk seems plausible enough. Linguistic evidence and Shilluk traditions do suggest it is plausible. That the Funj state retained the horned crown of medieval Nubian kingship as well as the practices of matrilineal succession and seizing vassal princes as hostages is also suggestive of continuity with Christian Nubia. The ecology and mixture of subsistence economies were additional factors of continuity from medieval to Funj Nubia. The region's mix of sedentary farmers, camel and cattle pastoralists, hill peoples probably maintained or inherited much of the same lifestyle of their medieval forebears. Indeed, according to Spaulding, the early Funj kingdom from c.1504 was barely or only superficially Islamic. In fact, the commercial factors favoring Islamic conversion were probably paramount for Amara Dunqas choosing Islam. The Beja traders and their network linked to the Red Sea plus Islamic influences from northern Nubia and Egypt made Islam attractive for serving long-distance trade. 

Nonetheless, the Funj were carriers of a more "traditional" or "African" political system based on administered commerce under royal rule. As "divine" kings associated with life, death, and sustenance through a number or rituals, accession rites, and pre-Islamic belief, the sultan was legitimate to the peasantry by looking after their interests and, ideally, defending them from merchants who abused the sheil system of advancing grains or other goods to peasants before harvest time to trap them in debt. Intriguingly, Spaulding proposes that popular Sudanese religion was neither exceptionally Christian (medieval era) nor one of orthodox Islam. Popular belief under the Funj revolved around baraka (more as a life-force), saints (fuqaha believed to possess baraka) and veneration of these saints for the transference of baraka. Noticing parallels with a number of "traditional" African religious systems from Rwanda to Haiti, Spaulding suggests this worldview was gradually undermined by Funj rulers adopting orthodox Islam to appease Muslim merchants. 

This appeasement of merchants and embrace of orthodoxy, in turn, led to a decline in the legitimacy of the kingship and nobility to the peasantry, who saw traditional rites removed from kingship. Kings also sided with the orthodox Islamic merchants, even when the latter exploited their indebted peasants or stockpiled grain during times of famine. The decline of Sinnar and Abdallab rule, especially pronounced after 1762 and the subsequent wars of the Hamaj Regency against other parties, further eroded the government through increasing control of caravans by merchants. While the state declined and fragmented with provincial rulers battling for control or domination of routes and resources, the peasantry aligned with charismatic fuqaha whose virtues and Islamic piety were respected by all. These Islamic holy men defended the exploited peasantry and challenged kings. In response, rulers bestowed land grants upon them and gifts for receiving their prayers and virtues rather than spells or threats.

On the question of the Islamic holy men and the peasantry, Spaulding's analysis is perhaps most interesting. The obvious parallel for us is Borno and mallam-peasant relations. We know, like their counterparts in the Sinnar Sultanate, Borno's Islamic holy men received land grants with tax-free rights. Some of them also criticized the government and spoke on behalf of the peasantry and downtrodden. Moreover, they too included "insider" ulama and clerics who worked with or on behalf of the Sayfawa dynasty. What we would like to know more about is the local Bornoan merchant class during the same era, from c.1500-1820. Were they also ensnaring the peasantry in debt while pressuring the local government to practice more orthodox Islam? Since so many of the Sayfawa mais had performed the hajj and were a Muslim dynasty since the 11th century, the role of Borno or Kanuri merchants in promoting (or not) Islam must have been different than conditions in Sinnar. So, was the basis of the mallam-peasant alliance in Borno due to fief-holders overtaxing cultivators? It would be fascinating to discover more on Kanuri popular religion, especially how it transformed over time to become, in part, a challenge to established authority. Sadly, the only semi-detailed account we know from before the demise of the Sayfawa dynasty occurred in the 1820s among the Manga, but explicitly against Muhammad al-Amin al-Kanemi. Nevertheless, the "feki" associated with that rebellion bore many of the same characteristics as "outsider" fuqaha of the Funj Sultanate.

To conclude, Spauding's work is an indispensable source on the Funj. Beginning with the fragmentation of medieval Nubia and Funj origins until the Turco-Egyptian invasion, this dissertation attempts a promising synthesis of political and social history. It is possible later scholarship has challenged his characterization of medieval Nubian states as "Sudanic." Perhaps he was wrong in his characterization of pre-Christian, pre-Islamic Nubian religion. However, he was correct about continuity as a major element in understanding the flow of Nubia's history. And the Islamization and Arabization of the region was far more complex than what modern Sudanese traditions or external Arabic sources suggest. The Funj emerge as builders of the last great Nubian state, one that promoted the forces that ultimate transformed the Nilotic Sudan whilst simultaneously bearing the flame of an ancient civilization. One cannot help but wonder how things would have developed without the Egyptian invasion in 1821. 

Alwa and Sudanic Africa

Although we have long considered Alwa to be the more interesting of post-Meroe states in Nubia, the limited archaeological excavations and fewer references in the external Arabic primary sources makes it more of an elusive entity. Mohi el-Din Abdalla Zarroug attempts to redress this with an admittedly speculative but provocative analysis of the kingdom of Alwa. Based on the ethnographic present (after assuming probable cultural continuity in the Nubian heartland for the last several centuries), archaeological surveys, and textual sources from Antiquity, Islamic lands, and later reports or narratives, The Kingdom of Alwa proposes an interesting interpretation of Alwa as the more powerful, wealthiest state of medieval Nubia. Instead of being a peripheral Nubian state, or, as Adams wrongly assumed, a "primitive" state based on the slave trade, Alwa may have been a major state whose influence radiated far to the east and west, perhaps vying with Kanem over influence in Darfur and what later became Wadai. 

Contrary to assumptions or expectations of Makuria being the dominant Nubian kingdom, often based on the far more extensive archaeological research in northern Nubia, Alwa appears to have been able to support higher population densities while benefitting from surplus crops (through riverine and rain-based agriculture), gold exports, hides, and long-distance trade. The interdependency of the pastoralist and agriculturalist populations of Alwa became the basis for a regional economy and local exchange. Gold, iron, ivory, leather, and salt also contributed to this economy, which must have connected Alwa to the Mediterranean, Red Sea, Indian Ocean, Sudanic, and trans-Saharan trade routes. The extent to which Alwa inherited aspects of Meroitic economic or administrative structures is unknown, but Zarroug sees evidence of "Meroitized" Noba in the region during the Late Meroitic Period, according to burial types and the Axumite inscription of Ezana. Geographical factors likely favored continuity, too, suggesting Alwa succeeded Meroe as the center of Nubia. This is also the impression one gains from the external Arabic sources like al-Aswani. 

Zarroug speculates that Alwa relied more on east-west trade routes that linked the kingdom to trans-Saharan routes as well as to the Red Sea. Ruins of structures in Kordofan and Darfur suggest Alwa (and probably Makuria, too) had a presence in western Sudan, likely connecting it to trade routes that led to the Fezzan and North Africa. Although the evidence is still lacking or perhaps waiting on confirmation from finds in Kanem, Darfur, and Soba, Zarroug's theory is quite plausible. We have long wondered to what extent Kanem may have played an early essential role in trade and cultural contacts across the Sudanic belt of the African continent. Hints of it can be seen in the chronicles of Ahmad b. Furtu or al-Idrisi, Ibn Said and oral traditions of Darfur suggestive of Kanem's influence further east. Perhaps Kanem and Alwa (and likely Makuria) exerted influence over the Daju and what later became Wadai as peripheral territories. Over time, secure trade routes developed which could link Alwa to the Fezzan and possibly establish a firmer "Sudan Road." The presence of Muslim traders in Alwa and Makuria may have facilitated this process, so that Christian Nubia did not represent an impenetrable barrier for Muslims of the Central Sudan.  

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. 

Funj Chronicle

Although far from ideal, we decided to read a public domain English translation of the Funj Chronicle. Based on a recension of the text from the personal library of a descendant of the Funj kings, Harold MacMichael included an English translation of most of the text in the second volume of A History of the Arabs in the Sudan and Some Account of the People who Preceded Them and of the Tribes Inhabiting Dárfūr. While perhaps generally accurate and reliable as a chronology of the Funj Sultanate, it's a text that is far more detailed and updated for the 19th century than earlier periods. For many Funj rulers in the 1500s and 1600s, we only read brief descriptions of their character or events that took place. Some of them are more detailed than others, of course. Badi II, Amara Dunqas, Badi IV, and certain political conflicts between different sheiks during the Hamaj Regency period receive more than the casual or limited summaries of other rulers of the Funj. 

So, it is interesting to compare the Funj Chronicle with other "Sudanic" kinglists and chronicle writings as an example of historical literature. While far from the Timbuktu Tarikhs in terms of the grand scope and level of detail, one can see overlapping traits with the chronicle writings of Agadez, Borno, Kano, and perhaps a combination of the kinglist and chronicle in a single work. The fuller entries in the Funj Chronicle probably draw on written sources that have not survived, particularly as Islamization of the Funj state grew in the 17th and 18th centuries, but the essential kernel of it probably arose from traditions like the kinglist shared with James Bruce during his travels through the region. Nonetheless, it is fascinating to observe the combination of textual and oral sources in the document, while also tracking the association of Islamic piety and Funj statecraft with proper governance. In that regard, it is probably not too distinct from the other chronicles produced by Muslim scholars extolling the Islamic virtues and support for scholarship of their respective sultans. Like the Timbuktu tarikhs, the author(s) of the Funj Chronicle seem to have continued their idealized vision of a ruler of the Nubian region well into the post-1821 era. 

But for our other purposes here at the blog, we are interested in ways to contextualize the Funj Sultanate within "Sudanic" Africa and the early modern world. Here one can find examples of this in Funj relations with Darfur, Kordofan, Teqali, Ethiopia, and, beyond Africa, the Ottoman Empire, central Muslim lands, and India. For example, Sennar clearly engaged in long-distance trade with other parts of Africa, including lands to the west like Kordofan and Darfur. Khamis, a prince of Darfur, but based in the Funj state in the 1700s, assists the sultanate in defeating an Ethiopian invasion by Iyasu II. Supposedly, if the Funj sources are not exaggerating, their Muslim victory led to various foreign embassies coming to Sennar, including those of al-Hind and al-Sind. Foreigners from as far away as Morocco were said to settle in Sennar. We also learn of Sennar's attack non Teqali under Badi II because the Teqali ruler attacked and stole the goods of a friend of his passing through their territory. The conflict resulted in Badi II imposing a fixed annual tribute. In the 18th century, the Funj state expanded into the Kordofan region and relied heavily on a man who later became an important kingmaker, Sheikh Muhammad Abu el Kaylak. 

One can see how the attempts at centralization of Funj sultans, or abuses of their power, often led to Funj nobles and provincial lords joining with the Hamaj in various coups, depositions, and civil wars which ultimately weakened the state. Thus, Badi IV favoring Nubians for political appointments instead of the Funj lords challenged the established nobility. One sees in the example of the Funj how an attempt to produce puppet kings is not a long-term strategy for success if the kingmakers are themselves feuding and relying on armed slaves and other supporters to depose kings and remove competitors. Yet in this tale of political assassinations, reliance on enslaved soldiers, growing Islamization and Arabization, and wars with neighbors, the Funj Chronicle reveals certain parallels with other parts of Sudanic Africa. We refer specifically to the tensions brought about by trade and migration across the "Sudanic" belt which threatened political fragmentation and the ways in which the Sayfawa dynasty of Borno and the kings of Sennar both became powerless by the 19th century. How is it that two Islamic dynasties of "Sudanic" Africa both declined and what does it suggest about Sudanic kingship in an age of jihads, slave raiding, and the impact of Islam?

The Funj Sultanate and Earlier Nubian History?

Although originally published in the 1970s, O'Fahey and Spaulding's study of Darfur and the Funj Sultanate contains some interesting arguments about the nature of the state and Islam in the Sudan from the 16th century through 19th centuries. Part One, covering the Funj state, relies on much richer textual sources while the study of Darfur under the Keira dynasty in the second section relies, necessarily, on oral traditions. It is in the first part of the book where one finds some rather intriguing suggestions and ideas about changes in the "Sudanic state" wrought by further Islamization and commerce. 

Some of the changes noted by the authors for the Funj state, which took over lands once ruled by Christian Makuria and Alodia along the Nile (and parts of the Kordofan to the west), are particularly intriguing because they seem to follow similar patterns observed in other parts of the "Sudanic" belt of Africa, especially Borno. Here, I mean specifically, the role of Islam and Sufi brotherhoods, the weakening of central authority, and the creation of autonomous areas under the rule of spiritual leaders which further eroded centralized authority. The perception of the king as corrupt or powerless, I believe, and receiving criticism of Muslim holy men, was also occurring in other parts of the Sudanic region, especially by the the time of the jihadist movements in parts of the "Western Sudan" in the 18th century.

However, I am particularly interested in how the Funj state may have followed earlier Nubian political and social practices. While Spalding states the Funj were a southern Nubian people, I am still unsure what the scholarly consensus is about who the Funj actually were. It's possible their first king, Amara Dunqas in the early 16th century, was a Christian before the Funj kings converted to Islam. If true, then perhaps the Funj truly were a Nubian group or subject population of Christian Nubia. The description of the matrilineal descent system and rituals of kingship also bear an uncanny resemblance to earlier, perhaps deeply ancient, Nubian traditions of kingship. Even the double-horned cap worn by Funj kings and provincial rulers seem to resemble "Christian" Nubian two-horned caps. 

And if the Funj gradually came to power in most of Nubia after the political fragmentation of the region into a plethora of captaincies ruled by minor princes with associated "castles" and churches, one wonders if the breakdown of Meroitic authority was also a similar process (of course, minus the influence of Islam and Arab or Mamluk invasions) to that of the fall of Christian Nubia. One could see an analogy of sorts to the conflicts of the Nobadia and Blemmyes (Beja?) in Lower Nubia during Late Antiquity and the gradual dissolution of centralized authority over the vast Middle Nile. Similarly, perhaps, conflicts over trade routes to the east (Red Sea) and south also played a role, with "Beja" rulers asserting themselves in the Nile Valley. But Meroitic civilization lived on to a certain degree among the Nuba/Noba and Blemmyes along the Nile, who appear to have retained a knowledge of Meroitic literacy and royal symbolism.

Moving on, the Funj state may, despite already being somewhat decentralized by recognizing the autonomy of the northern area of its kingdom after the rebellion of Ajib of Qarri, have represented the last of the ancient structure of Nubian or Nubian-like kingship. It is interesting to see how peripheral Islamization was to the early Funj state, too, only becoming more significant by the 1600s and 1700s. According to Spalding, Islam led to the changes in the nature of kingship and provided an ideology for a rising class of indigenous Sudanese merchants, which further eroded the king's authority. Foreign and local merchants began to undermine the king's control of commerce and led to social conflict between peasants and merchants (the latter engaged in grain hoarding and extortion). As the king's authority dwindled and local rulers acted autonomously, the rising "bourgeoisie" turned to orthodox Islam and commerce. 

While Spaulding's theory of the decline of state-controlled commerce and rising social conflict with an indigenous merchant class in formation by the 18th century is provocative and interesting, it is not entirely clear how or why local merchants were drawn to Islam. If Islam became a "Protestant work ethic" of sorts to local traders who would resist the peasantry's lifestyle and the excesses of the nobility, why did such a dynamic not seem to weaken other states in the Sudanic belt? If the "Sudanic" state was partly based on royal control of long-distance trade, which certainly seems to be true in more than a few cases, why were other states able to persist while only securing trade routes and stability? What was the nature of trade and merchant classes prior to the Funj state? Were traders active in medieval Nubia mostly Muslim and/or state-sponsored? What about during Meroitic times or, even earlier, in the kingdom of Kush or Kerma? Was there ever any sort of "Christian" work ethic and proto-capitalist sentiment among Nubian traders and middleman during the pre-Funj "medieval" period? I have much to learn about Nubia. 

Funj Sultanate

Short video with mostly irrelevant pictures on the Funj Sultanate. As this state took over the former lands of Alwa and Nubian kingdoms, it has captured my attention. It also appears to have attracted pilgrims en route to Mecca from West Africa, as well as caravans traversing "Sudanic" Africa east and west.

Christianity in Nubia

Although most of my recent interest in Africa is connected to its relevance to the making of the Haitian people, I have become obsessed with Nubia. Always overlooked, forgotten, dismissed or incorrectly seen as peripheral to Ancient Egypt (except for the "infamous" Black Pharaohs of the 25th dynasty), the Nubian region deserves serious attention. A decentering of Egypt from the discussion of ancient Nile peoples and cultures is well overdue, and should lead to a reconsideration of the significance of Nubia. Personally, I am most interested in the Meroitic period and the era of the Christian kingdoms of Nobadia, Makuria and Alodia. The story of Christianity in Africa is fascinating, and we always forget that Christianity was once a major religion in Sudan.

Medieval Nubia

I am developing a greater interest in medieval Nubia these days. It's a fascinating region where, for nearly 1000 years, Christian kingdoms thrived along the Sudanese Nile Valley. They left behind beautiful works of art, ceramics, churches, old cities, written records, and were one of the few civilizations in Africa where Christianity thrived after the Muslim conquests of North Africa. Indeed, Nubia seems a sibling of sorts to Coptic Egypt and Christian Ethiopia. Unfortunately, we know too little about Christian Nubia, despite the plethora of legal documents, land scales, religious literature, and external accounts of Nubia. Indeed, after going through several translations of Arabic and other sources on Nubia from the 6th century to the 16th, one is left with even more questions. For instance, what was the relationship of the Christian Nubian states to their neighbors further west, south, and east? What was the nature of town life like along the Nile, particularly in the cities Arab sources depicted as being large or attracting people from all over the "land of the Blacks" (Africa)? So many answers to these questions will have to be answered by archaeologists who, God willing, may be able to continue to excavate sites associated with Alwa.

Ephesian Tale

Xenophon of Ephesus's Ephesian Tale is the shortest of the five ancient Greek "novels" or romances. Possibly because it is an epitome of a longer work, it moves rather quickly in the plot of its two young lovers, Habrocomes and Anthia, who become enamored at first sight in their hometown of Ephesus. Like the other ancient Greek romances, the two vow their allegiance to the the other but are separated and reunited after surviving pirate attacks, oracles, enslavement, banditry, executions, poisoning, being buried alive, lustful men and women interested in both for their beauty and the intervention of the gods (of Greek and Egyptian extraction). Their trials bring them across the Mediterranean and the fringes of the Hellenistic world, including Egypt, "Ethiopia" (Nubia), the Levant, Asia Minor, Sicily, and Italy. 

Despite its short length and the lack of developed characters, the narrative manages to engage the reader with the sense of wonder and adventure. It follows many of the same conventions as the other surviving romances of its era, such as piracy in the Mediterranean, extended backgrounds of each main character as they are introduced, Egyptian bandits of the Nile Delta, and exotic peoples and gods whose intercession shapes the lives of the two protagonists. The god of the Nile himself directly intercedes on the behalf of Habrocomes, saving his life with his waters from a crucifixion and the flames of a pyre. It is at the temple of Isis in Memphis where Anthia is able to prevent her rape by Polyidus, who routs Hippothous's band of robbers. Intriguingly, this "novel" is also the first to be partially set in "Ethiopia," where Hippothous and his bandits have moved to raid traders en route to India and exotic lands. Cosmopolitan Alexandria also makes an appearance, where an Indian ruler named Psammis is visiting and buys Anthia as his lave, hoping to woo her. 

Exotic Indian rulers and allusions to the lucrative trade through the Red Sea from Egypt and the Nile may have been a precedent for the allusions to the wealth of "Ethiopia" in Heliodorus's more successful novel of the 300s. The translator of the edition read for this post, Graham Anderson, questions the geographic knowledge of Xenophon, but it is perfectly plausible that Egypt, Nubia ("Ethiopia") and India intersected through the Red Sea and overland trade routes from the Nile Valley, although the exploits of Hippothous and his bandits in Coptos and Nubia are not fully detailed. Indeed, they later endeavor to leave "Ethiopia" because they missed attacking larger towns and settlements instead of the individual traders and small groups (such as that of Psammis, returning to India) they attacked on the borderlands of Egypt and what must be the kingdom of Meroe. Nonetheless, this partial setting of the story in "Ethiopia" links Nile Valley banditry in southern Egypt with the vast wealth and exoticism of Africa and India, which is clearly a theme of Helodorus's Aethiopika. While there are no "Ethiopian" characters in the novel, the Nile itself and Egyptian settings present an exotic and challenging set of ordeals the two lovers endure to reaffirm their chastity or virtue. 

The Coptic Church and Nubia

Check out an interesting interview with a scholar on Nubian Christianity, one of the least known Christian traditions of African antiquity. Salim Faraji is interviewed by a Coptic host on the subject of relations between the Coptic Church and Nubia, how a Nubian king initiated Christian conversions in Nubia, and other aspects of Nubia's history. As the host says, an understanding of the intertwined, interdependent histories of the Coptic, Nubian, and Ethiopian Orthodox traditions is necessary for comprehending the Copts in their proper African context. Check out this interview, too, on the study of Egyptian and Nubian Christianity.

Nile Mosaic of Palestrina, Egypt, Nubia, and Rome

Nile Mosaic of Palestrina from around 100 BCE depicts the Nile Valley from a Roman perspective. Ships on the Nile, temples, flora and fauna of the Nilotic landscape, and, as the land goes further and further uphill (South, toward the Sudanese border) we see men with bows hunting, likely representing "Nubians," who were also renowned archers. Scenes such as these depict Roman fascination and obsession with Egypt and its environment, especially regarding animals, the gods, the river itself, and the unknown expanses of northeastern Africa. Roman expeditions and travelers never penetrated beyond the vast Sudd in the Sudan, but their contact with the Meroitic kingdom to the south of Egypt ensured some contact with "Ethiopians," that is, dark-skinned or black people. The following mosaics depicts fellow black devotees to Isis from Roman art from Pompeii, at least, according to Frank Snowden, a Classicist who focused on depictions and perceptions of "black Africans" in the Greco-Roman world. Behold the diversity within the priests and worshipers of Isis, a popular cult throughout Egypt, Nubia, and the Mediterranean Roman-dominated world. The cult of Isis was indeed quite popular with Nubians to the south, and, by the 6th century A.D., Byzantine Christian authorities of heavily Christianized Egypt closed down the temple at Philae, near the border in the South. Anyway, the dark figure in the upper right of the first image, near the man with light-skin in the center on top of the steps, appears to be holding a sistrum. Apparently Egyptomania, the spread of the Isis cult, and Roman imperial rule led to demands for "authentic" touches to their Egyptian-derived religion (Image of the Black in Western Art is a great source on this). Dark-skinned people, animals, and Egyptian priests, not mutually exclusive with dark-skinned, were often initiators or participants in spread of Isis to the Italian peninsula, in places such as Pompeii. The second image depicts one dark-skinned figure on top of the steps with what may be a feathered headdress, perhaps representing Bes, an Egyptian ithyphallic dward god.

A lot of Nilotic scenes in Roman art also refer to sexuality, fertility, and ancient Egyptian religion, which is no surprise given the popularity of the Isis cult or that ancient Egyptians had fertility rituals associated with the Nile's inundation of the land. Other Nilotic scenes depict dark pygmies or dwarves, which, in Greek religion, was likely an allusion to the satyr, also associated with fertility and sex. Thus, Nilotic scenes of the Roman world not only reinterpret and recycle Egyptian religious themes, but also incorporate Greek and other influences. In order to depict the "exotic" and alluring fertility and Other, dark-skinned peoples often appear, such as the black figure represented in the following mosaic, also from Pompeii. It is unclear if this black figure represents fertility, authentic Nilotic scenes, or is a servant of some sort, but the picture undoubtedly connotes sexuality.