Speculating on a Medieval Jewish Population in Mali

Songhay at the time of Sonni Ali Ber, in Adam Konare Ba, Sonni Ali Ber.

Although the tradition of a Jewish population near Tindirma (in Mali) has long been known, this past has not been confirmed through archaeology or finds like gravestones. That said, it is remarkable that the tradition has been reported in the Tarikh al-Fattash, the marginalia in Timbuktu manuscripts, and oral tradition collected in the region during the 20^th century. Since some versions of the tradition insert fantastic or unrealistic details, such as the giant stature of the ancient Beni Israel or their 7 leaders commanding thousands of cavalry forces, we previously assumed this was purely legendary. When reconsidering the evidence, however, our opinion has changed to a tempered skepticism.

            First, let us explain our initial stance rejecting the historical validity of the Jewish population in Tindirma. The 1447 letter of Antonio Malfante, a man who traveled to Tuwat and wrote of the area’s Jewish population, also mentioned their prominence in trade. But the same author wrote of the “Philistines” of the Sahara, apparently Tuareg, who did not let Jews pass through their territory. According to Malfante, “They are sworn enemies of the Jews, who do not dare pass hither.”[1] Assuming Malfante correctly understood the nature of the Jewish community’s relationship with Saharan nomads, the Jewish population in Tamentit or other northern Saharan trading centers did not usually cross the Sahara. If they did, the “Philistines” presumably harassed them.

            Of course, it is very dangerous to rely too heavily (and uncritically) on a single source. It is certainly possible some Jews crossed the Sahara from Tuwat in the 1400s. Their presence in Songhay during the reign of Askia Muhammad is likewise implied by the government’s actions to ban them and despoil traders of their goods for doing business with Jews.[2] Leo Africanus also echoed this, describing the ruler of Songhay (or the “king” of Timbuktu) as “an inveterate enemy of the Jews.”[3] It is difficult to imagine the need for anti-Jewish laws or proclamations if there were absolutely no Jewish people in the domains of Songhay. While al-Maghili’s role in this is quite probable, one must wonder to what attitudes regarding Jews existed in the Western Sudan.

            An additional type of evidence attesting to the Jewish colony of Tindirma can be found in the margins of various manuscripts from Timbuktu. According to Susana Molins Lliteras, notes dated to 1504/5 describe the ancient Jewish presence near Tindirma. These notes report that the Jews were buried with their heads facing west. Furthermore, the presence of Hebrew inscriptions was noted. This type of evidence must be carefully evaluated, but it illustrates how the idea of a Jewish presence in Tindirma was around by the early 16^th century. Indeed, despite the Hebrew writing, the notes mention a donation in the area as well as an allusion to knives and swords.[4] Perhaps this is referring to some type of military regime or system in place to defend the area’s prosperous farmers?

            Besides the marginalia in Timbuktu manuscripts, the Tarikh al-Fattash echoes the notion of a Jewish past in Tindirma. Although its composite nature and 19^th century interpolation forces one to consider that the references to the Jewish presence are based on oral traditions, it brings new details into the narrative. For instance, the report on the Tindirma region in the chronicle alludes to the use of wells by the Jews as a water source for their farms. It is also here where the legend of 7 Jewish princes arose, who allegedly each commanded a group of 12,000 horsemen. They were also said to have partitioned the 333 wells built for agricultural purposes among themselves. The names given to these princes appear to be Arabic, such as Fadl ben Mizar.

In terms of the community’s disappearance, the chronicle only mentions that a single Jew was there when a Sorko man and his wife, Marma came to the region. When the kurmina-fari Amar arrived to establish Tindirma as his capital, this lone survivor was dead. This account seems particularly legendary, but the Jewish man named his town Bako.[5] Yet, if the date of 1497 for Umar Komadiakha’s appointment as kurmina-fari is accurate, this suggests that whatever Jewish communities lived in the region had disappeared or dispersed by the late 15^th century.[6]

            As one moves into the colonial era, a reconnaissance of Tindirma was conducted by Bonnel de Mézières. This Frenchman traveled to Tindirma in the company of a respected Timbuktu scholar. He claimed to have seen evidence of the extensive wells built in the region as well as the Jewish cemetery. He also found evidence of a tumulus at Coigur.[7] Since he personally witnessed what was described as the cemetery of the Beni Israel and traveled with an informant presenting oral traditions, there does seem to have been, in the distant past, a prosperous community here perceived as non-Muslims. At least, that’s what was commonly believed by this period.

            Later, in the postcolonial era, Mahmoud Abdou Zouber collected oral traditions published as Traditions historiques songhoy (Tindirma, Morikoyra, Arham). A number of local informants recounted the tradition of an ancient Jewish presence in the region, though sometimes contradicting each other. In some cases, it is also possible that the local traditions were influenced by the Tarikh al-Fattash or drew from similar sources. Yet one key difference is the reference to possible conflict with the Songhay under the Si dynasty. According to one informant, one “Israelite” was in the region when Umar (Amar Aboubakari) built the mosque in Tindirma. Said to have perished at a place called Founefoune 3 years after the arrival of the kurmina-fari, which has been dated to 1497, the single survivor of the community would have died in c. 1500. This informant also reported that the Jews were not defeated in battle or exterminated. Instead, he reported, “Ces Israélites n'ont pas été exterminés par la guerre ; ils sont morts tout simplement.”[8]

On the other hand, other informants hinted at a military conflict that ended the Jewish presence in the region. According to tradition, Sonni Ali had a grand court at Tindirma, suggesting the region was once important to 15^th century Songhay rulers before Askia Muhammad. Moreover, the town, Baka, between Tindirma and Lessoudji was said to have been the place where Jews established a community and subjected the local inhabitants. In the words of the informant, “Les Israélites s’y ont fixés, et ont exercé leur domination sur les autochtones.”[9] This town, Baka, sounds suspiciously close to the name of the Jewish town in the Tarikh al-Fattash. Where things differ is the tradition of the barakoy, Mansikoura, said to have battled the Jews. Indeed, an informant said “C’est le Barakoy qui a vaincu les Israélites et les a contraints à descendre jusqu'à Tindirma.”[10] Elsewhere, the area the Jews once resided in is referred to as the Barissileyla, a place near the river where Jewish tombs, human remains, and wells were found. As for the barakoy, his title appears to include the word mansa, a title used by the barakoy in the Songhay Empire.

Sketch of the Fati region by Bonnel de Mézières.

While the traditions imply that the barakoy had used military force to displace the Jewish population, it is not clear to what extent said venture may have contributed to the dissolution of the community. Tradition suggests this occurred in the 15^th century, too, likely during the reign of Sonni Ali (c. 1464-1492). After all, Sonni Ali is said to have conquered Bara, the region where Tindirma seemingly was a part of.[11] If the traditions are not entirely legendary, there is a chance that the Jewish community of the area was relocated by a barakoy at this time. Later on, by the late 15^th century, the community had died out or dispersed. But the references to the construction of wells and agricultural produce suggest that, for some time at least, the local elites from this allegedly Jewish population lived off the taxation and agricultural production of the region. To what extent they were linked to supplying provisions to Timbuktu or other towns is unclear, but one could imagine a scenario in which Jewish traders might have expanded their interests in the region by investing in agriculture. Their construction of well-built wells for sources of water may have also appealed to Sonni Ali, who once expressed an interest in canals and has been said to have sponsored the creation of wells in the Gourma region.[12] In fact, a tradition reported by Boubou Hama asserts that Jews supported Sonni Ali against the Islamic clerical class and Tuareg.[13] Consequently, it is not inconceivable that Jewish traders with links to Tuwat and a settlement near the Niger supported Sonni Ali during his conquests of Jenne, Timbuktu and other parts of the Middle Niger.

Traditions of the barakoy chasing Jews may contradict this possible alliance between Sonni Ali and the Jews. But it is possible that the Jewish presence near Tindirma, however small or large it may have been, expressed support for Sonni Ali. Their dispersal through the hydraulic program of the Songhay leader could have led to the dissolution of the community. Then, under Askia Muhammad, persecution or banning of Jews may have further weakened whatever was left of the Jewish presence in the region. Ultimately, whatever was left of the community near Tindirma ended by the late 1490s as Askia Muhammad became the ruler of Songhay. Despite that, oral tradition recorded a non-Muslim presence in the area that was very likely tied to Jewish traders who may have come from Tuwat. Since oral traditions, chronicles and, to a certain extent, archaeological traces of ancient wells survive, the notion of a Jewish community in the 15^th century Western Sudan is quite plausible. To what extent they encouraged proselytization or how they managed the area under their authority is unclear, but it was likely in decline by the late 15^th century during the reign of Sonni Ali.

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[1] Antonio Malfante, “Letter from Tuwat”, in The Voyages of Cadamosto and Other Documents on Western Africa in the Second Half of the Fifteenth Century.

[2] John Hunwick, Jews of a Saharan Oasis, 64

[3] John Hunwick, Timbuktu and the Songhay Empire: Al-Sa‘dī's Ta’rīkh al-sūdān down to 1613 and other Contemporary Documents, 281.

[4] Susana Molins Lliteras, “The Making of a Historian in Timbuktu: The Signed Marginalia Attributed to Mahmud Ka’ti in the Fondo Ka’ti Collection”, in Scribal Practice and the Global Cultures of Colophons, 1400–1800, 147-148.

[5] Octave Houdas (trans.), Tarikh el-Fettach" ou Chronique du chercheur pour servir à l'histoire des villes, des armées, et des principaux personnages du Tekrour: documents arabes relatifs à l'histoire du Soudan, 119-123.

[6] John Hunwick, Timbuktu and the Songhay Empire, 104, 343.

[7] Bonnel de Mézières, “Reconnaissance à Tendirma et dans la région de Fati, Bulletin de la Section de Géographie, t. XXIX, 130-131.

[8] Mahmoud Abdou Zouber, Traditions historiques songhoy (Tindirma, Morikoyra, Arham), 14-18.

[9] Ibid., 74.

[10] Ibid.

[11] Hunwick, Timbuktu and the Songhay Empire, 92.

[12] Adam Konare Ba, Sonni Ali Ber, 102.

[13] Ibid., 102-103. 

Timbuktu and the Arma

Michel Abitbol's Tombouctou et les arma is an important work on the history of the Pashalik of the Arma. Most people often ignore the 2 centuries or so of political and social history of Timbuktu and the Niger Bend after the fall of Songhay. Abitbol's work shows just how important that later, post-Songhay period was in terms of the Pashalik's political, social, economic, and regional importance. Indeed, the Pashalik persisted for so long partly because Timbuktu continued to be a major center for commerce and bridge between the Maghrib and the Sudan, long after the decline of al-Mansur's dynasty and the end of the Askias of Gao. However, even the Askias survived in a fashion, since a branch of them became close allies with the Arma regime. And while the authority of the Pashalik was later limited to Timbuktu, Djenne, Gao and other areas of the Niger Bend, and often became reduced to a ceremonial power of investiture for Tuareg chiefs who could sometimes attack or pillage the area with impunity, the Pashas continued to be the recognized authority of Timbuktu and a major power until the rise of Macina. Intriguingly, Abitbol believed the Arma, who became acclimatized and, later on, developing dominant families who dominated the position of pasha, despite the usually short tenures, were not a class per se. Instead, they were a leadership elite of essentially military origin and function. However, their alliance with the sharifs, ulama, merchants, Askias, and ownership of large numbers of slaves (who sometimes worked the land they owned) and dependents or haratins suggest something on the nature of a class society. The rather large corpus of sources used by Abitbol also suggests Timbuktu's importance in trans-Saharan trade retained its significance, too, surpassing in overall value the exports of other areas of the Sudan to North Africa. Clearly, there was a basis for great wealth accumulation and, in one case, a Pasha who even endeavored to emulate the great emperors of Mali and Songhay, possibly with the intention of recreating their grandeur for the Pashalik.

Timbuktu's Patriciate

Elias Saad's Social History of Timbuktu: The Role of Muslim Scholars and Notables, 1400–1900 is an important study of the social tradition of the scholar-notable as a Timbuktu patriciate for about 500 years of urban history. This social tradition of scholar-notables helped define a recurring theme of autonomism in Timbuktu as scholars, through the judgeship and imamates, effectively administered the city through the long series of conquerors and states or empires that absorbed it. This rather unique position of Timbuktu and its renown as a center of Islamic learning makes it an interesting case study for understanding the Islamic city and its relationship with the Saharo-Sahelian and Sudanic contexts in which Timbuktu was intimately linked. 

Indeed, early Timbuktu, from the earliest chains of transmission still extant, was heavily indebted to southern Soninke and Malinke locations for its early Islamic scholars. Timbuktu's position as a site of prominence for Islamic scholarship in the Saharan, Sahelian and Sudanic regions was also based on the wealthiest families of different ethnic origins found the city to be a site where the pursuit of the acquisition of Islamic learning (especially jurisprudential learning) served an integrative function. This allowed Sanhaja, Arab, Soninke, Malinke, Songhai, Fulani, and others to come together in Timbuktu's early origins as a trading center. While not the only city in the Western Sudan to have an origin in a multiethnic trading center, in Timbuktu the goal of wealthy families, tailors, some craftsmen, and others to acquire literacy and gain the reputation of learned status, plus the ability of the wealthier families to produce renowned scholars, established Timbuktu as the city par excellence with scholar-notables as a patriciate. 

Saad seems to think the 'patriciate' of Timbuktu was defined by Islamic scholarship and the development of a social tradition that favored Timbuktu's autonomy throughout most of the period from c.1400-1900. While the Mali, Mossi, Magsharen Tuareg, Songhai, Ruma (Moroccan invasion force that integrated into society rather quickly), Kel Tadmekkat Tuareg, Kunta, and jihadist Hamdullahi states all claimed suzerainty over Timbuktu at various times in this 500 year period, the scholar-notables always dominated the city (at least in religio-legal spheres) and through the judgeship and the imamates of the main mosques actually administered the town. This appears to have been the case under Malian, Songhai and Ruma rule, attesting the longevity of this social tradition. One could conquer Timbuktu, but in the end the conquerors or invaders were integrated or accepted in some form or another this arrangement. One is not sure if any other city in the Western Sudan could be said to have encompassed a similar social history of a patriciate based on the scholars.

Ahmad Baba of Timbuktu

We truly wish Mahmoud A. Zouber's Ahmad Baba de Tombouctou (1556-1627), sa vie et son oeuvre was available in English translation. Zouber's work appears to be the best general overview of one of the best-known West African Islamic scholars of the precolonial era, based on his own works, the references from his disciples and contemporaries and the established modern scholarship. Although one wishes there was a deeper analysis of more than 8 of what Zouber considers Baba's most important, representative works, he undoubtedly succeeds in portraying the life of a Timbuktu scholar whose family were a key part of the Timbuktu intellectual scene. 

And yes, to a certain extent, the hyperbole surrounding the scholastic achievements and reputation of Timbuktu compared to the rest of the Muslim World finds some justification in the respected position of Baba during his Moroccan exile. That he was able to teach prominent Moroccan scholars and be taken as an equal attests to, at least in his case, the exemplary level of Islamic instruction achieved by some at Timbuktu and probably Jenne and other cities in the Western Sudan. Certainly, Ahmad Baba's principal teachers in Timbuktu, such as Muhammad Baghayogho, would have likely been perceived as excellent scholars if they had lived in Morocco. In light of this, Zouber suggests Timbuktu's comparable standing to other centers of Islamic learning like North Africa and Egypt but carefully avoids any firm conclusion on the question. After all, it was during his period in Morocco that Baba was most prolific, perhaps attesting to the greater availability of books in Marrakech and, though we cannot prove it, a more stimulating environment for intellectual production than the declining Songhay Empire?

In addition, Zouber's study dispels some of the myths and assumptions about Baba. For instance, the assumption that he was "black" or identified as such (despite one of his students in Morocco asserting he was not "black"), although Zouber pushes a strong patriotic or "national" identity based in the region of the Western Sudan on the part of Baba against the Moroccan invasion. Moreover, though only focusing specifically on 8 of the 56 works attributed to Baba, Zouber establishes the main areas of study he specialized in: grammar, fiqh, biography, morality, theology, history, and fatwas. Clearly, the Islamic sciences occupied most of his attention and to truly understand him or the intellectual scene in Timbuktu under Songhay rule requires some comprehension of Islamic learning and the connections with Egypt, the Maghreb, and earlier Islamic literature. 

But to know that several of Baba's works survived and his education in Timbuktu might shed light on comparable methods of education and curriculum for those of us interested in Hausaland and Borno during the same period. Perhaps, to a certain extent, Ahmad Baba's "Sudanese" upbringing and education can tell us something about Muslim writers from the same era in other parts of West, possibly revealing some of their shared concerns (like questions from Touat and North Africans about emerging discourses of "racialized" West Africans and the widespread illegal enslavement of Muslim West Africans). Perhaps, though Baba was critical of Idris Alooma, one can see possible influences of Timbuktu in the Birni Gazargamo of Ahmad b. Furtu in Borno and vice versa through the confluence of Songhay and Borno influence in Hausaland and Air.

Abu Bakr al-Siddiq and Borno?

Although our sources for Abu Bakr al-Siddiq's maternal ancestry consist solely of his short Arabic autobiographies translated into English, it is interesting to consider his life in a "Central Sudanic" context. Incorporating Borno and Katsina into his biography and family background illustrates how connected or integrated West Africa in the precolonial era truly was. Cities in the "Western Sudan" like Jenne and Timbuktu, where Abu Bakr al-Siddiq's family originated (though claiming descent from the Prophet), were closely tied to trading and learning centers such as Kong and Bouna. The ancient cities of Timbuktu and Jenne were also integrated into "Sudanic" trading routes to the east, through Hausaland and Borno all the way to the Red Sea. Abu Bakr al-Siddiq's family history exemplifies this in a variety of ways. Therefore, one can view the family of al-Siddiq in various contexts: Atlantic World, Caribbean chattel slavery, Saharan and Sahelian Africa, and Dar al-Islam. 

First, who was Abu Bakr al-Siddiq's mother? Named Naghodi in one of his autobiographies, a Hausa term meaning "I am thankful," her Islamic name was Hafsa. She was likely a later wife of his father, Kara Musa. Indeed, al-Siddiq's autobiography lists several half-siblings, indicating that his father had numerous children with at least one other woman or wife. His mother was born in the capital of Borno, presumably some time in the second half of the 18th century. However, her Hausa personal name and links to Katsina suggest Hausa heritage. In consideration of the close economic ties between Borno and Katsina, as well as the past history of Katsina as a tributary state of Kanem-Borno, we cannot rule out a Kanuri origin or affiliation for Naghodi through her father. Indeed, both Katsina and Gazargamo were major trading stops for trans-Saharan caravans coming crossing through the Fezzan and Agadez to reach the "Sudan." Migration of traders, Islamic scholars, and other groups between Katsina and Borno must have occurred on a large scale.

As for the identity of his maternal grandfather, al-Siddiq identified him as al-Hajj Muhammad Tafsir of Borno AND Katsina. His mother was an infant during the pilgrimage of her father, and the pilgrimage to Mecca would have left Naghodi and her mother in Gazargamo for an extended period of time. This makes one think her maternal grandfather may have been a native of Gazargamo and perhaps from a large household with dependents, relatives, and economic means to support his children while abroad. Moreover, the inclusion of tafsir in his name points to a scholar with a background in Quranic exegesis. Furthermore, the fact that he went on the hajj at least once would have significantly increased his standing in Borno. Indeed, those who went on the hajj were even absolved of taxes by the Sayfawa rulers of Borno. Consequently, Muhammad Tafsir must have been of means, respected in Borno and Katsina, as well as someone who benefitted from the privileges of the hajj through tax incentives that Mai Ali maintained. Even if he was a Hausa or Fulani from Katsina, performing the hajj undoubtedly aided his business or trading concerns in Borno and beyond.

So, how exactly did al-Siddiq's father, Kara Musa, meet Naghodi? According to al-Siddiq, his father traveled to Katsina and Borno frequently, likely as a trader. A man from a reputable lineage in Timbuktu and the Middle Niger was likely an attractive prospect for al-Hajj Muhammad Tafsir's daughter. Both men were probably traders, and the marriage of Naghodi to Kara Musa would have helped cement trading ties between them. One can surmise that Kara Musa was older than Naghodi and may have already possessed trade connections to Kong and sources of gold and kola nuts through his connections to Dyula trading and scholarly networks. Perhaps a marriage helped ensure honest dealings or trading partnership between Naghodi's father and Kara Musa? Evidence in favor of this can be found in al-Siddiq's allusion to his father sending gold, Egyptian silks, horses, mules, and other goods to his father-in-law. 

This may have been initially part of a dowry, but his father's past of "always" traveling to Katsina and Borno hints at trade in goods, such as gold, motivating his travels from Jenne to Kong, Ghonah, and, eventually Katsina and Gazargamo. Evidence for traders from the Fezzan, Hausaland, and Borno knowing of Kong, Bouna, Dagomba, and the "Gold Coast" can be found in other sources, but the Dyula networks of Kara Musa would have been an excellent network for Hausa and Kanuri traders from the east to tap into for opening up relations with that part of West Africa. Perhaps Kara Musa's network and access to gold (and the possibility of kola nuts) intersected with Muhammad Tafsir's connections to Borno's salt and natron exports to Hausa cities?

Our other references to Hausaland or the 'Central Sudan" in the context of Abu Siddiq are more problematic or impressionistic. John Davidson's Notes Taken During Travels in Africa reports confirmation for al-Siddiq's illustrious pedigree in Morocco and the Sahara. Other informants even claim al-Siddiq was related to the rulers of Timbuktu, Kong, and "Houssa," which must be Katsina or a generalized Hausaland. While one can surmise from the earlier autobiographical fragments that al-Siddiq came from a respectable family with roots in the ulama of Timbuktu and Jenne, the grandiose relations attributed to him may not reflect the realities of post-jihadist West Africa. For example, Borno's capital was destroyed and abandoned by the time al-Siddiq returned to West Africa via Morocco. Katsina was also in a period of decline. The Sokoto Caliphate changed the political map of the "Central Sudan" and al-Siddiq would have been in the dark for about 30 years during these momentous decades. Nevertheless, one can see that several years after his bondage in Jamaica, al-Siddiq could still believably call upon powerful and politically connected relatives in Timbuktu, Kong, and Hausaland. This illustrates just how overlapping the worlds of Islam, "Sudanic" Africa, and the Atlantic were.

Bibliography

Abú Bekr eṣ ṣiddíḳ. “Routes in North Africa, by Abú Bekr Eṣ Ṣiddíḳ.” The Journal of the Royal Geographical Society of London 6 (1836): 100–113. https://doi.org/10.2307/1797559.

Barth, Heinrich. Travels and Discoveries in North and Central Africa: Being a Journal of an Expedition Undertaken Under the Auspices of H.B.M.'s Government in the Years 1849-1855. New York: D. Appleton, 1857.

Cohen, Ronald. The Kanuri of Bornu. New York: Holt, Rinehart and Winston, 1967.

Curtin, Philip D. Africa Remembered; Narratives by West Africans from the Era of the Slave Trade. Madison: University of Wisconsin Press, 1967.

Davidson, John. Notes Taken During Travels in Africa. London: J.L. Cox and Sons, 1839.

Dewière, Rémi. Du Lac Tchad À La Mecque: Le Sultanat Du Borno Et Son Monde (XVIe - XVIIe Siècle). Paris: Publications de la Sorbonne, 2017.

Gomez, Michael A. Black Crescent: The Experience and Legacy of African Muslims in the Americas. Cambridge ; New York: Cambridge University Press, 2005.

Lovejoy, Paul E. “The Kambarin Beriberi: The Formation of a Specialized Group of Hausa Kola Traders in the Nineteenth Century.” The Journal of African History 14, no. 4 (1973): 633–51. http://www.jstor.org/stable/180905.

Lucas, Paul, Lédyard, John, Lallemant, Antoine J. (trans.), Voyages de MM. Lédyard et Lucas en Afrique, entrepris et publiés par ordre de la Société anglaise d’Afrique ; avec le plan de fondation de cette Société, et une carte du nord de l’Afrique, par le major Rennel : suivis d’extraits de Voyages faits à la rivière de Gambie, par ordre de la Compagnie anglaise d’Afrique, et d’un mémoire écrit sous le règne de Charles II, concernant la grande quantité d’or qu’on trouve près de cette rivière ; avec une carte de ce fleuve et de ses environs, tracée sur les lieux. Paris: Xhrouet, 1804.

Wilks, Ivor. The Northern Factor in Ashanti History. [Legon]: Institute of African Studies, University of Ghana, 1961.

Tarikh al-Fattash

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

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

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

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

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

Tarikh al-Sudan

Due to our recent readings of Redhouse's dated English translations of two chronicles by the imam Ahmad Ibn Furtu or Borno, we at the blog have decided to tackle Hunwick's translation of the chronicle Tarikh al-Sudan by Abd al-Rahman al-Sa'di. Unfortunately, Hunwick did not translate the entirety of the chronicle written by our Timbuktu author, skipping 2 chapters on Moroccan politics and later chapters on events after 1613, with the pasha administration and post-Songhay Middle Niger politics. That era, after 1613, when effective Songhay resistance was largely over and fewer large-scale empires operated in the "Western Sudan",  was for obvious reasons quite distinct from the "imperial" era of Songhay, Mali, or Ghana. 

As the general narrative of the Songhay Empire or the Western Sudan owes so much to al-Sadi and the Tarikh al-Fattash, reading this chronicle was basically an exercise in seeing how so many historians and documentarians have borrowed this or that idea, characterization, or plot point in their depiction of Songhay rulers like Askia Muhammad or Sunni Ali. We have read select chapters of the two surviving Timbuktu chronicles in the past, for our earlier projects on Ghana and pre-imperial Songhay history, so the early chapters were nothing new. As recent scholarship has shown, an overreliance on the Timbuktu tarikhs is problematic, as the authors had various political, ideological, and religious motives at play, and were relying on oral traditions for much of the earlier history of their region. For instance, today's scholars have called into question the idea of Ali Kulun and the Sunni dynasty of Songhay rulers, pointing to the alarming parallels with Tuareg oral traditions and folklore. Mande, Berber, Songhay, and Islamic influences intersect and shaped how Timbuktu chroniclers like al-Sadi perceived the Middle Niger and the "land of the Blacks" in surprising ways, and not always in what modern secular readers considered to be historically accurate style or methodology. 

Thus, one must use these sources very carefully while also coming to see something of the interplay or oral and written traditions in West African literature. One can read these chronicles and see commonality with the oral epics of Sunjata, or the oral epics of the Bamana people of Segu. For al-Sadi and his audience, chronicling the great past of his region while endeavoring to avoid offending the Pasha administration relied on portraying the later Songhay Askia dynasts as corrupt and decadent, yet celebrating the security, Islamic scholarship, and cosmopolitan ties of Timbuktu and Jenne in the Songhay Golden Age (scholars who traveled to Mecca, Egypt, North Africa or corresponded with illustrious figures from Cairo). Moreover, while the author was of "Berber" descent, he also mentions a Fulani ancestor, and probably possessed other West African non-Berber forebears. Clearly, he was a man of Timbuktu and identified with the region and its peoples, and Islamic devotion filtered the lens through which he viewed West Africa. In that respect, he resembled Ahmad Ibn Furtu, the chief imam of the mosque in Borno's capital during the reign of Idris Alooma. Like Ibn Furtu, his historical chronicle sought to stress the proper and just Islamic devotion of his class and preferred rulers. For al-Sadi, this seems to have been Askia Muhammad I and Askia Dawud, and one of course must question the portrayal of these rulers in the chronicles. 

It is also clear that the text pointed to the corruption and in-fighting among various siblings and cousins of the Askia royal family over the course of the 16th century as a cause for the empire's decline and relatively quick fall to the invading forces of Morocco. How the Songhay went from being able to raid Moroccan territory in the Dar'a Valley under Askia Dawud to being quickly routed by a relatively small Moroccan force armed with muskets in 1591 is difficult to conceive. Unless the Songhay state was already weakened by problems with succession that weakened its ability to maintain central authority and military capacity, muskets should not have been enough to topple Songhay. Unfortunately, al-Sadi has little to say about the slaves, artisans, and laborers, and little to say about the influence of women among the Songhay. The so-called subaltern groups were probably not seen by al-Sadi as significant historical actors, but glimpses of their role in the economy, political conflict, and marriage alliances of the Songhay rulers clearly emerge. Artisans, such as tailors and shoemakers, hardly appear in chronicle, despite the several workshops in Timbuktu run by tailors who were sometimes scholars themselves. We learn they had a quarter in Gao, created by Askia Dawud, which may also be a veiled reference to artisans as a casted group. 

Djinguereber Mud Mosque

A nice video on one of the famous mosques of Timbuktu and its endangered status. 

Songhai Empire

To return to some of my esoteric pursuits, this podcast on the Songhai Empire (and, by extension, Mali, Timbuktu and the "Western Sudan"), is worth a listen. Although really just an introduction to a complex area and period in world history, this podcaster clearly dedicated a lot of time to researching this subject. Although the Songhai state during its imperial period only lasted for a century, its fall ushered in a number of changes in the region that continue to reverberate today. 

Precolonial African Cities South of the Sahara

The following is a long, rambling email sent to a friend about precolonial African urban centers, concentrating on cities south of the Sahara. What I would love to find more research about is interconnections between cities north of the Sahara and the South beyond the stereotypical and obvious, as well as more information about how 'Black Africans' influenced North African urban cultures and aesthetics. Anyway, enjoy!

I'll skip over North Africa, although cities like Cairo were gigantic centers of trade, power, and cultural exchange that connected Africa, Europe, and Asia. Indeed, Cairo, the capital turned into a bustling city by the Fatimids, featured Jewish Egyptian communities, Greek/Byzantine traders, Italian merchants, Turks, Nubians, Berbers, West Africans, Ethiopians, Circassians, and others to create a truly global city. Indeed, Egypt's importance before the age of European hegemony was often based on its control of the Red Sea routes to the Indian Ocean, which linked western Eurasia via trade with East and Southeast Asia. Of course, Persian and Iraqi control of the Persian Gulf and Indian Ocean trade could also play a role, but the Fatimid, Mamluk, and Ottoman control over Egypt and the Red Sea played a large role in Egypt becoming the principal 'middleman' in exchange between the Indian Ocean World (Swahili Coast, South Arabia, Persian Gulf, India, Southeast Asia, China) and North Africa, Europe, etc..

But I digress. Here are some important precolonial African cities, including some very large ones. I'm drawing mostly from "History of African Cities South of the Sahara," which does not do justice to Africa's urban history because it omits North Africa and ignores how trade and cultural ties shaped urbanism in both parts of Africa, below and above the Sahara.

http://www.amazon.com/History-African-Cities-South-Sahara/dp/1558763023

1. Timbuktu: at its height, the city's population reached perhaps 50,000-100,000 inhabitants. When Leo Africanus visited the city in the early 1500s, he estimated 50,000. Timbuktu's architecture reflects Maghrebi, Andalusian, West African, and Islamic styles. The city was divided into quarters, which were often largely peopled based on ethnicity/culture, and the city had more than one mosque. The city was also close to the Niger river at its northernmost point, which made it a natural meeting place for trans-Saharan trade caravans and the trade along the Niger's ports. Timbuktu's Muslim elite, highly educated, included 'blacks,' Berbers, and Arabs (although none of these groups are mutually exclusive), and residences were built in brick, clay, straw, and thatch based on status. Timbuktu's architecture reflected the local 'Sudanese' style, too, since the influence of As-Sahili has been exaggerated. Timbuktu's madrassas were flourishing in the city's golden age, under the aegis of the Sonhay empire, which largely let things be as long they the Songhay received their tribute. Like many cities in the 'Western Sudan,' there is a fusion of Maghrebi/Islamic influences with local preferences, such as the public esplanade in the center of the city, which was used by kings for royal display, to 'give justice,' etc. In addition, cities in this region of West Africa (Sahel and savanna) often prioritized open enclosures and the extended family, whereas those of the more Islamized and foreign ulama and business community preferred private homes where walls and doors only opened up to courtyards.

For similar Sahelian cities, look up Agadez, Walata, Awdaghust, Kumbi-Saleh, Niani, Gao, etc.. Agadez, founded around 1000s, became the center of the Agades sultanate and a population of around 50,000 people in the 1500s. Again, Islamic and 'Sudanese' local traditions meshed well, creating a 'skyline' similar to Timbuktu's with large mosques, a large foreign merchant community, learned Muslim clerics, use of clay and brick in architecture, large cemeteries, etc.

2. Mbanza Kongo, or Sao Salvador: The capital of the ancient Kongo kingdom, which had diplomatic relations with Portugal since the late 1400s, and its Kongolese elite converted to Catholicism in the early 1500s. At its height, the population of the city would have been somewhere between 60,000 and 100,000, while Thornton, a specialist on Kongo, estimates 60,000 inhabitants in the mid-17th century. Cities in the Kongo kingdom largely resembled rural villages in architecture and use of public space, except they featured larger royal enclosures, an aristocracy, and some monumental architecture (such as Catholic churches). Residences were usually rectangular, and little was evident that distinguished homes of elites from those of commoners except size and luxury goods. Cities in the Kongo kingdom and other well-known cities in this region (such as Loango, Soyo, etc.) often had large markets, lots of open space (often used for agriculture, the phenomenon of 'garden cities'), and intimately connected to surrounding farming area outside city for subsistence. Kongolese urban centers, like villages, could be mobile, and for this reason, buildings were constructed in such a way as to facilitate quick demolition for movement.

3. Kano: Kano had high walls, an ancient past predating the Islamization of Hausa elites, a complementary relationship with Fulbe/Fulani herders outside city walls, division of city into quarters for foreign communities and social division of labor, textile industry, 'gardens' for urban agriculture, palaces for Hausa city-state king and later, emir, mosques, use of clay bricks for elite homes, as well as the use of columns and arches for domed buildings, etc. Hausa architecture was part of the broad 'Sudanese' style, especially in the use of clay, but also had some multi-leveled elite homes and some buildings constructed with mud, thatch, etc. (round huts, etc.). Kano, at its height in the 19th century, reached a population of 100,000 people within the city walls, but much of the city's space was geared toward using open space for farming. Kano was, without a doubt, cosmopolitan (Fulani, Hausa, Arab, Berber, Muslim, non-Muslim, slave, free, dying/textile industry, social division of labor reflected in urban layout, monumental architecture, 'garden city' phenomenon, etc. Other Hausa cities were similar to Kano, such as Katsina and Zaria, which all took advantage of trade to connect with other parts of West Africa and North Africa. Hausa merchants and Muslim learned communities were present elsewhere, such as in the Asante Empire, and some Hausa cities fell under the orbit of the Kanem-Bornu empire to the east, closer to Lake Chad. Nonetheless, all Hausa city-states fell under Usman dan Fodio's Islamic reformist movement, culminating in political unification under the Sokoto caliphate, which quickly became a combined Hausa-Fulani literate elite where books and paper were imported, long-distance trade respected, and cosmpolitan urban centers vitals.

4. The capital of the Kanem-Bornu empire, which may have reached as many as 200,000 people at the empire's zenith. Kanem-Bornu, an empire with a very long history in the Central Sudan (not to be confused wiht the modern nation of Sudan), had long dominated the trans-Saharan trade through the Fezzan and into Libya and Egypt. Kanem-Bornu had brick architecture, walled cities, lots of open space, the central esplanade for the mai (king), and ties with the Ottomans and North Africa for firearms, trade, cultural exchange, the slave trade, etc. I believe the capital was Garumele or Birni N'Gazargamu, and if the population was 200,000, it was undoubtedly a vast city! Again, there would be a mixture of architectural styles based on class, origin, status, and neighborhood. Unlike the empires and kingdoms that arose to the West, which were closer to sources of gold and other valuable exports in West Africa, Kanem-Bornu had the Lake Chad area for slave raiding, which in turn led to an 'industry' of slave raiding as the horsewarrior aristocracy of Kanem-Bornu preyed on societies to the south and west. In the 1500s and 1600s, there were some innovative mais, such as Idriss Alaoma, who pursued the use of firearms, and at its height, Bornu controlled some of the northern ends of the trans-Saharan trade routes in what is now Libya (Fezzan), meaning this 'black' African state began to dominate parts of the northern and southern termini for the trans-Saharan trade. Use of brick architecture in Kanem-Bornu area has possible link to similar styles in the east, in today's Sudan, or perhaps Turkish influences through Ottoman empire and trans-Saharan trade. Urban architecture included brick, adobe, and straw, and the city had a high wall (25 feet), 660 roads, and was clearly a vast city.
http://www.scribd.com/doc/36113263/Architecture-of-Africa


5. Great Zimbabwe, the best known urban center in precolonial Southern African history, only had a population of 11,000-18,000 at its height, which would've made in somewhat comparable to contemporary European medieval towns. Great Zimbabwe's elite likely based its wealth in cattle and control of trade and gold that was traded to Swahili coast (which is why Kilwa rose to prominence in 1300s). Great Zimbabwe obviously has monumental architecture, social differentiation/complexity, vast walls of stone and the famous stone conical tower, but littrle is known of social relations or much else about the culture. Some claim the city and state declined as a result of environmental degradation as Great Zimbabwe elites' cattle ate up too much grassland. Either way, the Monomotapa empire that succeeded Great Zimbabwe in that region of southern Africa continued the use of vast stone walls, terraced hills, stairways and roads in Khami, Dhlo-Dhlo, and other sites scattered in the Zimbabwe/Mozambique area. However, due to a lack of sufficient archaeological excavations, it's hard to say much about the other stone cities of what one might call the 'Great Zimbabwe' complex. We know that elites had access to textiles, beads, Chinese porcelain, and other goods, which msut have came through the Swahili traders at Sofala (on the coast of Mozambique), and it seems likely that either Great Zimbabwe or some of its client states or neighbors organized trade caravans that went from the interior to the coast to trade with the Swahili and Indian Ocean market. Again, open space seems to be the pattern for much of the Great Zimbabwe/Monomotapa culture, especially if agriculture and pastoralism remained key to the urban sites. Residential architecture would reflect use of stone walls and some of the more stereotypical structures of the Shona today, as well as perhaps a resemblance to the Ndebele, Tswana, and other South African ethnic groups, whose urban centers and villages sometimes featured large stone walls, large cattle herds as basis of social wealth, and little monumental architecture except the walls. Ndebele architecture, however, seems to consist of round homes with the use of a vast array of colors. Look up Kurrichane, a Hurutse-Tsawan town visited by a European int he early 19th century. The white visitor estimated the city had 16,000 people and used stone walls, but agriculture remained the predominant economic/labor activity of the town (so was it proto-urban, or rural?).

6. Zanizbar and the Swahili Coast: Zanizbar had a population of 200,000 in 1870, making it a gigantic urban area where about 80% of the population were enslaved. Zanzibar and the Swahili coast have a clearly cosmopolitan architectural style reflecting East Africa, Islam, Indian, and other influences. Early Swahili towns in the 700s-1000s seem to have been constructed mostly in mud and wattle, thatch, small mosques of wood and thatch, etc., but with increasing wealth, Swahili towns adopted stone (often coral stone), and used it in ingenious ways reflecting Islamic and local aesthetics. Swahili monumental architecture included pillar tombs in ancient cities such as Gedi, as well as modern amenities like indoor plumbing, intricate stone and wooden mosques, multi-storied homes in places like Lamu, and beautiful wooden doors. The use of imported Chinese porcelain in niches of homes and tombs reflects local aesthetics, too, although for the most part it was only the Swahili merchant bourgeoisie and foreign merchants (from as far as Oman, Yemen, Persia, India) who could afford lavish, multi-storied homes with fancy, imported Chinese porcelain and silks. Swahili towns and urban centers also produced some textiles, imported paper for writing, exported iron to India a thousand years ago (other exports include ivory, tortoise shell, slaves, spices, mangroves, tropical products, etc.). Although parts of Swahili Coast came under Portuguese and later Omani domination, Swahili cities probably reached their zenith in the 1100s-1400s era, when Kilwa and other prosperous city-states developed vast trade networks, high walls, close ties with hinterland populations, vast palaces with swimming pools, and other architectural wonders. Swahili cities, therefore, had narrow streets, use of stone and thatch/mud and wattle, elite burial customs, and important ports and international ties in the Indian Ocean. Zanzibar epitomizes this role of the Swahili coast in the 19th century, when the island and its principal city dominated the entire Swahili coast and likely reached a population of nearly 200,000. Lamu, a smaller Swahili town, reached a population of 15,000-20,000 at its height, which shows that most Swahili towns never had very high populations, although some, such as Mombasa and Pate, could host higher populations based on more fertile farmland or better relations with neighboring agrarian societies.

7. Benin City, Kumasi, and Abomey are good examples of inland West African cities in the tropical forest region of West Africa. Benin City was described as being larger than Lisbon by Portuguese traders in the early 1500s, and Benin City's vast walls enveloped the city for 8 miles at a height of 60 feet, which meant the oba (king) of Benin had access to the labor of thousands of men to build the vast wall. The wall, like most walls in West African cities, was earthen and not stone, but nonetheless, very impressive. The oba's palace was a city within a city, reflecting a pattern of Yoruba urbanism as well, which may date as far back as to Ife, an ancient Yoruba city which trhived between 900 and 1200 CE. The oba's palace complex was described by Dutch traders in the 1600s as being larger than the Dutch town of Haarlem, and Benin City included lots of open space, wide, organized streets, and vast markets. Yoruba towns likely influenced Benin City, or were part of the same regional influences in architecture: vast mud walls, veranda-styled houses, high degree or urbanism, and the division of the city into royal sacred space and secular space. Kumasi, on the other hand, grew with the power of the Asante empire in the late 1600s-1800s. Kumasi probably had a population of at least 12,000-15,000 inhabitants, as well as gardens, organized streets, courtyards, gardens, tons of open space, a vast royal palace complex, and a Hausa zongo, or Muslim merchant quarter with wide streets and impeccable cleanliness. Thus, Kumasi was cosmopolitan and diverse: Muslims, Christians, 'traditional religions,' Hausa merchants, Hausa and other literatre bureaucrats who were largely Muslim, use of mud, wattle, thatch, clay, and other building materials, and elite homes with columns that were mostly rectangular. Going by Bowdich's writings and drawings of Kumasi and the Asante area she passed through, the open space was used for 'gardens' and plots to grow food, as well as utilized for public celebrations, displays of the asantehene (king)'s entourage, etc. Abomey, capital of Dahomey, also serves as an interesting example of a vast capital city by a kingdom in the tropical rainforest area of West Africa. Abomey, at its height, had 24,000-50,000 inhabitants, a large moat, a vast palace complex for the king, mostly rectangular homes, a large market, and the center of a large bureaucracy. Dahomey dominated the 'Slave Coast' of what is now Benin, including the important coastal cities of Porto Novo and Whydah, which reflected more creole and European architectural styles.

8. Kuba and the Kingdoms of Central Africa's Interior and the Great Lakes: Although the Kuba kingdom was a small polity deep in the heart of Africa, by 1892, its capital was home to 120,000-160,000 people, and was a 'garden city' that could be mobile, and walled. This pattern in Central African cities has been called a 'Bantu city' pattern by some for its prevalence in Central, Southern and Eastern Africa. Little is known about Kuba's capital city, but similar cities abound. Musumba, capital of the vast Lunda empire which dominated Katanga and the trade in copper and other metals, still had 20,000 inhabitants by its long decline in 1842 (so who knows how populous the city was at the empire's zenith?). Musumba and other Central African cities benefitted from the imported use of corn and cassava, which increased population densities and were easily incorporated into Central African diets. This increase in population density in the region as a result of trade and contact with the Americas and Europe since the late 1400s, culminated with an increase in the population of some urban centers in the region, Musumba being a good example. Again, like other Central African cities, Musumba was a 'mobile city' and it looked like the small rural villages in many ways. A similar pattern can be seen in Nyanza, Kazimbe and other royal capitals in precolonial Rwanda and Burundi, which were mobile cities built on hills. The elites of Rwanda and Burundi controlled vast amounts of cattle, the source of their wealth and prestige, but were dependent on commoners whose farming produced necessary food and supplies for these cities on the hills. Again, these cities would have seemed like the small villages in architecture and design for the most part. Part of the reason so many cities in Central and Eastern Africa were founded on hills or cliffs was for easy defense from attacks, hence the walls and exploitation of elevation and topography for natural defenses.

9. Buganda, a centralized kingdom in what is now Uganda, had a similar capital city, which was part of that trend in 'mobile capitals,' but the explosion of banana cultivation for subsistence in Buganda led to increased population densities because of its suitability to the soil. Thus, with an increase in banana cultivation and subistence, more of the population could live in the towns and pursue other occupations. Buganda became very important in the 19th century, when its capital city housed traders from the Swahili Coast, Indian merchants, Sudanese traders, Europeans, Muslims, Christians, and slaves from all over East Africa. Kibuga, the capital of Buganda, would have housed the vast palaces of the kabaka, Buganda kings, and the city had roads, but there was also an abundance of open space and use of land for agriculture within the city ('garden city'). By the end of the 1800s, a period when Buganda was a British Protectorate, the population of Kibuga was 70,000, an enormous number for a city in a part of Africa where urban centers were rarely that large. Architecture seemed to resemble the more stereotypical round 'huts' and dwellings in this very rural-urban center.
https://web.up.ac.za/sitefiles/file/44/1068/3229/9086/African%20Perspectives/PDF/Papers/NWANGWE.pdf

10. Gondar: the capital of the Christian kingdom of Ethiopia, which dominated the highlands, north, and Eritrea, was a vast urban complex. Prior to Gondar, for several centuries the Christian kingdom of Ethiopia lacked a fixed capital, but moved across the kingdom as a mobile capital and military camp. Gondar, however, had European, Indian, Islamic, local, and other influences in style and art. It reached a population of 50,000 to 60,000 at its peak, and clearly is the result of a long history of urbanism in the northern Horn of Africa that dates back at least to the pre-Akumsite period. Aksumite architecture and aesthetics, including the use of stone, arches, stellae, monumental features, and rectangular buildings and tombs, survived and influenced the Lalibela rock-hewn churches of medieval Ethiopia. Ethiopian architecture would have included elite stone homes and palaces, as well as circular, mud, straw, and thatch dwellings in Gondar, just as in ancient Aksum, Yeha, or Adulis. Addis, a modern city based on Western models and ideals, did not come into being until the late 19th century, but would quickly surpass Gondar and previous historical examples as the most important urban center in Ethiopian history. Gondar, however, had castles, churches, and other monumental architecture that likely made it an impressive urban site.

11. Other examples:
-Ancient and Medieval examples: Alexandria, Carthage, Garama, Meroe, Napata, Kerma, Memphis, Hierakonpolis, Suakin, Aswan, Luxor, Thebes, Tichitt-Walata escarpment, Rhapta, Tunis, Marrakesh, Sijilmasa, Dongola, Sennar, Mogadishu, Zeila, Ife, Oyo, etc. Nubian architecture seems interesting, especially since the ancient period. A combination of structures and styles (Egyptian, 'Nubian', Sudanese, Christian, Islamic) appear, which included vast temples, pyramids, palaces, streets, use of whitewashed mudbrick, churches, cathedrals mosques, and other monumental architecture appear to have been the trend. Supposedly elites in the Christian kingdoms of Nubia lived in stone houses with up to 2 or 3 levels and had running water, plumbing. I suspect life in Nubia remained largely rural and concentrated in villages made of mudbrick, but Nubian cities like Dongola appear fascinating. These Nubian cities would have housed Arabs, Muslims, Christians, Africans, Copts, centers for trade caravans, a diversity of slaves, and even ties with Ethiopian Christians as well as monasteries. Other interesting Nubian cities: Faras, Qasr Ibrim, Meroe, Napata, Soba, etc. Some Nubian towns and villages kinda resemble North African ones in style.

Black History Month: Timbuktu Manuscripts

Though this documentary series is far from perfect (it seems to attribute too much of Timbuktu's history to non-African sources) and ignores the much earlier literary history of the African continent (Egyptian hieroglyphics, Meroitic script, Ethiopic, the Libyco-Berber, etc.), it's worth watching.