Qui sont les vrais ancêtres des Haïtiens ?

We found Haiti Inter's video, "Qui sont les vrais ancêtres des Haïtiens?" to be an intriguing video exploring the African ancestry of the Haitian people. Nothing new, but still interesting. 

"Congo" Maroons in Haiti

 

Since captives from West Central Africa comprised a very large proportion of Africans trafficked to French Saint Domingue, we recently read through every runaway advertisement mentioning "Congos" in the colony. Some of the ads actually reveal intriguing details about the background of so-called "Congo" Africans. For instance, Jean-Pierre, named above, knew how to read and write. Was he from a literate background in Kongo or Soyo, perhaps first learning to read and write in Portuguese? The short description of him seems to imply he was literate in French.

Sometimes, "Congo" slaves were given additional descriptors. The above case, a Congo "Monbala" named Choisi, is an example. Monbala may be a reference to the Mbala people of Congo who are to the east of modern-day Kinshasa.

The Congo-Mouyaca may have been the Yaka peoples. This suggests that slaveholders in Saint Domingue did have some kind of basic understanding of the ethnic heterogeneity of so-called "Congos" on the plantations. 

Some of the "Congos" listed appear to have retained their African names. Angoulou, above, is an example of this. Someone familiar with names and the languages of Central Africa might be able to identify their origins more precisely. 

For instance, the "Congo" named Pierrot was "dit Cimba." Cimba definitely sounds like an African name, probably from a Bantu language like KiKongo. 

One of the "Congo" runaways was said to be a "Congo Binda." We wonder if Binda is actually the Mpinda of Angola. Their language is said to be closer to Kimbundu.

Lucanda was another "Congo" maroon with what appears to be an African name. Lukanda is used as a place name in Congo (DRC) and appears to be used as a name, too.

Another type of "Congo" were the "Congo-bord-la-mer." Like Crispin, we assume they were Kongolese from the area near the Atlantic coast. 

Sometimes, runaway "Congo" were given more than one additional descriptor. In the case of Jolicoeur, he was a "Congo Sondi bord de la mer". If so, he was likely from a coastal area or Kongo and of the Sundi sub-group. 

Another "Congo" named Louis was apparently "owned" by Baudry Deslozieres, a colon whose notes based on conversations with Kikongo-speakers in Saint Domingue was published in the early 19th century. Was Louis one of the unwilling captives who provided information to Baudry Deslozieres?

As for the "Congo Mondivi" group, we are unsure of their origin. The above case,a Joseph around 30 years of age, is ambiguous. There is a place called Mavivi in eastern Congo (DRC), but this seems far too unlikely to have been a source of "Congo" captives. We wonder if the "Mondivi" were the Vili people of Loango.

The "Congo-Mayombe" were one of the more frequently named Kongo sub-groups in the runaway ads. They are undoubtedly linked to the Mayombe.

A useful reminder of how ambiguous these "national" labels were is the case of Vincent. Though he was considered a "Congo" by his "owner" in Saint Domingue, he called himself Senegalese. Given the huge distance and cultural differences between people from the Senegambia and West Central Africa, one wonders if Vincent was trying to take advantage of a certain esteem for "Senegal" captives.

Again, someone with familiarity with Central African languages might have some luck determining possible ethnic origins for "Congo" captives. One of the above 3 maroons, Gazambi, appears to have an African name.

Another pattern we noticed is the frequency with which the name Pedro could be found among "Congo" Africans. We wonder if this is due to some Kongo peoples using Portuguese names in Africa or if it was simply another instance of slaveholders giving their chattel exotic or foreign names.

The "Congo-Monteque" nation most probably refers to the Teke peoples and/or the Batéké Plateau. 

Some "Congo" captives were remarkably mobile. In the above case of Jupiter, we see an example of a slave "owned" by a resident of Kingston, Jamaica yet he escaped to Saint Domingue.

Sometimes "Mayombe" was written in different ways. Thus, we can see the example of so-called "Congo Mayambe" captives in the colony.

In another case of a "Congo" bearing an African name, we can see the case of Minerve, or Pinba. Pinba sounds like the Haitian Creole word Penba, which is used for a "Sly, malicious woman."

Two additional "Congo" captives with what may be African names appear above. Kicony and Bamby are difficult to trace, although kikoni a word in the Taabwa language. 

The "franc Congo" in Saint Domingue likely came from a term used by French slave traders. According to Baudry Deslozieres, the term referred to captives purchased from the "canton of Ambriz." They were considered excellent slaves by the French.

As for the "Missi-Congo" nation, this is presumably an allusion to the Mwisi-Kongo, or MwisiKongo, another term for the Kongolese.

We suspect Mabilla, a "Congo" maroon "due bord de la mer," was from a coastal region.

Macaya is a name of Central African origin that can be found among people of "Congo" origin. It can still be found in the Congo.

As for the "Souty" nation, we assume it is perhaps a reference to the Nsundi or Sundi.

The above "Congo" named Mabiala appears to be another case of a "Congo" with an African name.

Similarly, Bajaca may be an African name for the above "Congo" maroon. 

Some "Congo" slaves spoke other Creole languages of the Caribbean. The above case of Tam illustrates this, since he understood Papiamento.

Yet another "Congo" with an African name can be seen in the case of Matta, or Magloire.

The "Mazelingua" nation could be from Zambia. In Zambia, the name Maselinga exists. 

Recognition of similarities or overlap between the "Congo" and "Mondongue" nations can be see in the case of a woman called Diane. In her own country, she was called Ougan-daga, which bears a resemblace to the surname Ogandaga in Gabon.

As for the "Mazonga-Congo" nation, Narcisse may have hailed from what is now the Pala-Masonga region of Kasai Oriental. Was he of Luba origin?

Another ambiguous "Congo" group were the Masoula. Apparently, 12 of them, labelled Congo in the colony but calling themselves Masoula, ran away. 

Another group we suspect to be of Central African origin, Massangui, were in Saint Domingue. The use of the name for a place can be found in both Congo and Cameroon.

A "Congo" (Kongo?) Prince in 1782

One of the more interesting notices of a runaway "Congo" slave in colonial Haiti is the 1782 case of a "Prince de Congo." Unnamed in the notice, the said maroon spoke of himself as a "Prince of Congo" and was apparently able to wound the son of his "owner" before his escape. Indeed, he was even said to have killed the mother of his sixth child before running away, perhaps a sign of how desperate and eager this Prince was to escape the plantation in Marmelade. From what we can tell, this is the only runaway notice for a "Congo" captive alluding to noble background. Was he from the Kingdom of Congo, as appears likely, and perhaps from one of the competing factions or lineage groups which periodically engaged in battles over the throne of Kongo in the 18th century?

A History of West Central Africa to 1850

John K. Thornton's A History of West Central Africa to 1850 is a difficult but occasionally intriguing read. As an update of sorts to Vansina's dated Kingdoms of the Savanna, a work we have mostly read several years ago, much of Thornton's regional history was novel or at least a good refresher. Nonetheless, the same problems persist: absence of written sources, problematic traditions collected in the colonial era in a highly politicized context, and a focus on elites or noble lineages. The absence of written sources for much of Central Africa in the precolonial era and the lack of adequate archaeological research across the region means that much of our knowledge of various polities is stuck in a speculative stage. Hints and glimpses begin with the Portuguese arrival in West Central Africa in the 15th century, but detailed accounts only emerge much later. Even for Kongo, a kingdom whose local elites embraced to at least some extent Portuguese literacy, the surviving sources are usually from and by Europeans. But due to the Portuguese contact and trade with Kongo, Ndongo and Matamba, further inland polities became gradually known. This vast interior, including the area of the Lunda empire which became a major power by the 18th century, included a very important belt of textile production, widely traded and used as currencies in Angola. Much of the problematic oral traditions are contradictory, however, especially when one can compare documented traditions recorded at different moments in the past with later traditions. For instance, this becomes clear with the expansion of Lunda, as others, including some of Imbangala origin, began to claim connections with Lunda in their founding traditions. Lastly, the oral traditions are, unsurprisingly, mostly centered on royal genealogies and barely shed light on free peasants or slaves, groups who must have comprised the majority of the population. This is useful for historians, particularly when kings remembered in tradition can be identified in Portuguese or European sources, and can help establish a chronology. Thornton's study of the region often does this to aid in constructing a timeline for various polities in the region from c.1500 to 1850.

Despite our aforementioned problems with the study of the region, Thornton's study raises a number of questions on the nature of slavery, the slave trade, and cultural exchange within West Central Africa. The slave trade, which essentially financed Portuguese Angola's existence, was often fed by captives raided and captured by the Portuguese, Luso-Africans, and African soba allies. Yet demographics suggested by censuses suggest the colony may have been similar to other polities in the region: men were sold abroad, but women retained. The large-scale forced relocation of people to concentrate wealth by elites was another commonality that allowed kings (and Luso-Africans and Portuguese Angola) to expand their power and revenue bases. The gender imbalance in the population and the central role played by slaves as sources of production (in plantations and estates) and export commodities demonstrates how the slave trade in West Central Africa both adapted and changed the region's various polities. The other ongoing issue in many polities, of centralization versus federation-styled governments played out along this dynamic, as control of people and dependents, including slaves and forcibly relocated farmers, could lead to some rulers succeeding in centralizing their administrations. In other kingdoms, however, political fragmentation followed centralization, as the cases of Kongo, Soyo and even Loango illustrate. This could have tragic consequences when many of the victims of the various civil wars in fragmented states were shipped to the Americas. Indeed, the so-called Jaga and Imbangala bands who ravaged parts of the region appear to have perfectly exploited the sociopolitical conditions of West Central Africa as militarized societies practicing infanticide, ritual cannibalism, and widespread depredations. While some, like Kasanje, eventually formed a permanent state, the militarized bands capable of spreading terror, seizing captives, and selling them to the Portuguese, with whom they occasionally formed alliances with against other African societies, suggest insecurity was rampant. When one also considers the prevalence of burdensome taxation collected by officials in centralized states, the lot of the commoners in much of the area must have been perilous. Even in areas where descendants of relocated populations had at least some guarantee of not being sold abroad, illegal enslavement and sale of people occurred in Portuguese Angola, too.

The most interesting aspect of the book is the question of trade and influences between the Atlantic and Indian Ocean coasts. Lunda, whose rise is based partly on trans-African contacts between the coast due to Portuguese interests in both Mozambique and Angola, occupies a major role in this theme. Trade in textiles, copper, European and Indian commodities and slaves must have factors of consideration for Lunda and other African polities in the center of Central Africa. The inability of Portuguese attempts to reach Ethiopia via Kongo in the past due to a misunderstanding by the Portuguese on the extent of Central Africa did not deter their interests in trade with Lunda from both coasts. How exactly, and to what extent, polities like Lunda, its Kazembe, and other polities in the region interacted with the Indian Ocean coast is another question which deserves further exploration. In fact, particularly for the East African connections of West Central Africa before the rise of Lunda. 

Mondongues of Saint-Domingue

Whilst reading John Thornton's history of West Central Africa, we have been revisiting the runaway advertisements in colonial Haiti for any and every allusion to Congos, Mondongues and other likely Central African captives. We have always believed the Mondongue to be a particular people or "nation" and not a category entirely concocted by slave traders and slaveholders in Saint-Domigue (and elsewhere in the Caribbean and Latin America). Since Oldendorp met "Mondongues" who told them they lived far away from the coast, spoke related languages, and were of 3 different groups, we hoped to find evidence of that in Saint Domingue's "Mondongue" Africans. Sadly, the runaway ads usually not too detailed about the African origins of captives in the colony. Sometimes, they weren't even sure who was a "Congo" or "Mondongue" among runaways.

Some of the runaway ads for Mondongues in the colony do refer to them by their native names. Thus, one, named Moyala, may be an instance of a Mondongue name. Comparing this name with personal names in Central Africa might reveal clues about the ethnic origins of the Mondongues.

Another Mondongue was named Petiton in his country. This name doesn't sound particularly Central African at all, although Goulau might be.

Gouala, or Favori, another Mondongue runaway, bears an African-sounding name. 

More ambiguity on the differences between Mondongues and Congos can be seen in the case of Azor. If he only spoke Congo, does this mean the Mondongue were speakers of Kikongo or a closely related language? 

Another Mondongue with an African name, Ougoulou dit Charlemagne, was "owned" by someone in Bainet. The name sounds African, but to what extent it could be matched with a particular area or language of Central Africa remains unknown. 

Civil War and Transition in Kongo

After a brief attempt of reading it 12 years ago, we finally went back and finished The Kingdom of Kongo: Civil War and Transition 1641-1718 by John K. Thornton. A short study based on his thesis, Thornton endeavors to elucidate a process of historical change in an African polity. Since the Kongo kingdom before the 2nd half of the 17th century was a centralized, town-centered polity in which Mbanza Kongo dominated a large territory, one must understand what led it to become a fragmented, decentralized state with a village-centered economy. Thornton, differing from other scholars, does not see the Portuguese in Angola as a primary or major factor at all in this development. Instead, the origin of the process was in the ability of Nsoyo to rise to prominence as a competing (and independent mbanza) which destabilized a centralized polity based on Mbanza Kongo. 

However, in order to understand exactly what transpired in Kongo from the reign of Garcia II to 1718, one must comprehend how the Kongo state operated before the civil wars of the post-Mbwila years. Thornton's thesis relies on an understanding of Kongo society, administration, economy and religion mainly drawn written sources. The changes in Kongo oral traditions already apparent in the 18th century, and those of the 20th century, reflect changes that may mislead researchers who rely too heavily on modern ethnographies or oral traditions to reconstruct the earlier past of Kongo. So, with that perspective and drawing on textual sources, Thornton develops a model of Kongo state and society. It was a society of nobility and powerful kings based in Mbanza Kongo, with the latter appointing provincial nobility to administer provinces that yielded taxes. The nobility and ruler, however, did not control production in the villages. Instead, peasant producers retained control of production and simply paid taxes to the state (and the kitomi and nkuluntu. In the mbanza, or towns, which were really overgrown villages, the aristocracy were able to control production through the use of slave labor. By concentrating large numbers of people in the mbanza and controlling production through the exploitation of slaves (who, were more akin to European serfs), the nobility were able to accumulate much larger surpluses than what the villages could provide. 

One mbanza, the royal capital, far surpassed all others and the dream of the Kongo nobility was to find a position in the capital where access to luxury goods and control of greater surpluses was possible. With the exception of Nsoyo, no other town in Kongo rivaled the capital. The Kongo order that was perhaps at its height during the reign of Garcia II, was able to thus impose a system that brought in revenue from taxes on villages and used the royal court to appoint, remove, and circulate nobility in various provinces. The nobility wanted to be in Mbanza Kongo and Kongo kings could use this central economic role of Mbanza Kongo to reward loyal and faithful dependents. The royal household and the nobility functioned as houses, comparable to those of medieval Europe. Competition within houses for the throne or for access to the spoils of power did, inevitably, occur. But the centralizing status and nature of Kongo as the economic, social and political capital ensured that even rivals to the throne or competitors wanted to be in Mbanza Kongo instead of eking an existence in the countryside with meager surplus or despoiled peasants.

In a sense, Hilton and Thornton have similar perspectives on how the decline of Mbanza Kongo and a centralized Kongo was related to economic concerns. It was not so much the Portuguese victory in 1665 that finally caused the decline of Kongo. Instead, it was the closer, internal threat represented by Nsoyo, an autonomous province with its own economically important mbanza and access to Atlantic trade, which revealed the changes on the horizon. Soon, after 1665, various contenders, often from the Kinlanzi and Kimpanzu houses, fought for decades for control of Mbanza Kongo. The capital was sacked during these civil wars and the nobility, dispersed into the rural provinces where chances for greater amounts of surplus to expropriate wealth were minimal, became permanently based in the rural areas and relied on the Kongo peasant producers (who retained control of production). While the civil wars created conditions in which some nobles could seize captives and sell them, or loot, none of the nobles were powerful enough to permanently seize Mbanza Kongo and restore a unified kingdom. Furthermore, Nsoyo interfered throughout the civil wars of the late 17th century, promoting rival claimants to the throne but never providing enough support for them to succeed. Indeed, a reunified Kongo would actually have posed a threat to Nsoyo, which preserved much of pre-civil war Kongo administrative structure and enjoyed prosperous trade links with the Dutch, Vili and others north of the Zaire. 

In the end, Kongo survived its period of civil wars to reemerge as a fragmented state by 1718. By this date, however, the king was a far weaker figure and the provincial nobility were mostly autonomous. Christianity remained important, especially for the nobility, and indeed religion played an important role in the later years of the civil wars during the Antonian movement. According to Thornton, Dona Beatriz's movement, which was popular and helped repopulate Mbanza Kongo, also sought to have her ritually install the next Kongo king, like the kitomi. Instead of some sort of anti-colonial movement, Dona Beatriz's movement wanted to restore a united Kongo while also demonstrating the ways in which Christianity had been so adapted and incorporated into Kongo cosmology. Ultimately, the Kongo that was restored in the 18th century was to forever lose the pattern of centralized authority with kings appointing nobility to provincial posts and with a large degree of control of production in mbanza based on slave labor.

The Kingdom of Kongo

Anne Hilton's The Kingdom of Kongo offers a broad overview of the Kingdom of Kongo's rise and fall based on local adoption and adaptation of Christianity, Atlantic trade, and slavery in West Central Africa. Relying on, for the most part, written sources and some 20th century ethnographies, Hilton suggests the origins of Kongo lay in a redistributive economic system in which goods produced by distinct ecological zones of the Kongo state were exchanged. The mani kongo, or king, emerged sometime by the early 15th century as the dominant figure in this system, controlling the redistribution of local cloth, salt, nzimbu shells, and copper from beyond the borders of Kongo. The early state, however, was built on 3 distinct religious dimensions and different kinship structures, including matrilineal kanda and what later emerged as patrilineal groups based on descent from the daughters of Afonso I. 

However, the early Kongo state was relatively decentralized and the kings were eager to find new sources of legitimation. The mbumba, nkadi pmemba, and kitome dimensions were all important, but the Catholic cult and its association with the mani Kongo and aristocratic Mwissikongo aristocrats provided a religious or spiritual source of legitimacy that connected the kings with the cult of the ancestors and the sky spirits. While it is perhaps debateable to what extent this cosmovision really influenced the way Afonso I adopted Catholicism, Kongo was accepted as a Christian state by Europeans and adopted literacy, some Portuguese names, and even tried to buy or purchase European-styled ships. The kings of Kongo and the Mwissikongo supported the new religion, used literacy to enhance administration, accepted new crops from the Americas, and took advantage of the copper, slave, and nzimbu trades to expand Kongo's power in West Central Africa. Indeed, Kongo's cloth production was central to the currency and trade of the Portuguese colony of Luanda and Portuguese slave trading in the interior. 

Unfortunately for Kongo, however, Catholicism and the centralization achieved by Afonso, Diogo I and Kongo kings until the early decades of the 17th century was challenged by new developments. Sonyo, a province of Kongo, became increasingly independent and weakened Mbanza Kongo's economic importance through new trade routes with the Vili and others. Instead of the old Makoko-Mbanza and Luanda trade routes for slaves, ports like Mpinda and alternative slave routes developed that bypassed Kongo or did not rely on Kongo's cloth. In addition, Portuguese expansion of the Luanda colony and the seizure of the nzimbu-producing Kongo territory, as well as attacks on vassal states or chiefdoms of Kongo, further weakened Kongo. The Kongo kings were also not successful with establishing complete control of the Catholic Church, an institution which was central to the further legitimation of the rulers. The Portuguese refused, despite Afonso I's son serving as a bishop, allowing for an independent see of Mbanza Kongo and the clergy, prefects, and priests in Kongo were often dictated by or led by men based in Luanda. Even the Capuchins, who came to Kongo and were initially seized upon by Garcia II to strengthen his rule, eventually became more aligned with Luanda while criticizing the state of Christianity in the Kongolese provinces. Even the Dutch occupation of Luanda was a failure in the sense that Kongo did not eradicate the Portuguese presence and, in fact, was blamed for anti-Portuguese massacres. The enmity between Kongo and Luanda governors, who could also block envoys and letters from Kongo to the Pope or to Spain and Portugal, eventually led to the fateful battle of Mbwila.

The later centuries of Kongo cover its existence as a splintered or fragmented state, with autonomous provinces like Sonyo and warlods and competing lineage groups competing for the throne. Kongo Catholicism survived, even leading to a site of pilgrimage devoted to the Virgin Mary and the close relationship between Mwissikongo and the Christian cult. Kongo indigenous religion likewise continued, even experiencing a revival during the reign of Garcia II and that of his son due to Capuchin aggression Nonetheless, the Kongo of the 18th and 19th centuries was very different from the state system consolidated by Afonso I and his successors. While the Portuguese and the trans-Atlantic Slave Trade did not destroy Kongo, one can undoubtedly see how Atlantic trade was a double-edged sword that paved the way for Kongo centralization and decentralization. The main reason why Kongo, however, was not able to maintain its dominant position was related to its increasingly peripheral role in the main trade routes used for the slave trade and the decline of the mani Kongo's role in redistributing regional or international goods to his clients. The failure to establish a church under royal control further undermined the Kongo kings since one of the major ideological sources of their legitimacy was controlled by external actors not always acting in the interests of Kongo or its state. 

The Kongolese Saint Anthony: Dona Beatriz Kimpa Vita and the Antonian Movement, 1684-1706

Although I am usually a fan of John K. Thornton's work, The Kongolese Saint Anthony: Dona Beatriz Kimpa Vita and the Antonian Movement, 1684-1706 was a dry text full of academic jargon and very little of it pertained to the Antonian movement led by Dona Beatriz. It was focused more on the context of the Antonian movement and the political crisis of the decentralized Kongo kingdom than anything else, with lots of useful details about the depths to which Catholic ideology and rituals were commonly practiced, even in regions with few priests. Thornton also does an excellent job describing everyday life, urban life, the Kimpasi secret society, some of the ravages of the slave trade (as well as how the Bobangi formed their own secret society based on restoring the ethical harm of their slave trading activities), Kongolese relations with the Portuguese and other Europeans, and the high degree of religious syncretism with a longer tradition of syncretistic messianic movements.

However, the text was really not about the Antonian movement and its inspiring leader, Dona Beatriz, who wished to restore the Kongo kingdom and claimed to be possessed by Saint Anthony. Furthermore, Thornton, partly out of necessity and the limits of historical knowledge at this time, is heavily reliant on textual sources left by Capuchin missionaries and other Europeans, who, disliked Dona Beatriz and used European cultural lens to denigrate spirit possession as demonic. Thus, we have a text that relies on some biased and inaccurate (and incomplete) sources, very dry writing that waxes endlessly about the political intrigue and conflict among Kongolese elites to claim the throne, and does not focus on the Antonian movement as a whole. Don't get me wrong, I did enjoy large sections of the text (particularly those referring to culture, art, religious syncretism, and some of the 'everyday life' details of late 17th century and early 18th century West Central Africa. Unfortunately, I am not entirely sure if I 'buy' Thornton's interpretation of the Antonian movement and its role in the political crisis of the fragmented Kongo state. As the reviews here state, there are many problems with some of the sources Thornton relies on, the structure of the book and how it marginalizes the very woman it should focus on, an avoidance of the 'fluid gender performances' of Dona Beatriz's possession by Saint Anthony, and the more complex topic of "Kongo" proto-nationalism, which seems to be a 'thing' in the text.

Nevertheless, the book is a useful and necessary quick read for all those interested in a detailed account of some aspects of the Antonian movement. A more interdisciplinary account that included art, gender, anthropological sources, and how the Antonian movement was internally structured (For instance, Thornton states that Beatriz's movement spread from her original home and the ancient capital through 'mini-Saint Antony's, or, some of her followers who supposedly carried her message throughout the kingdom and attracted peasant followers) would have made this book great.

Nkangi Kiditu

Crucifix from the early 17th century Kingdom of Kongo, in what is now the Congo and Angola. I believe this is from the Brooklyn Museum. The kingdom's ruler converted to Catholicism in the early 1490s, and Christianization permeated in other social classes beyond the elite of the centralized polity in West Central Africa. John Thornton and others have written extensively on Christianity and the general history of this kingdom, which would in a few centuries splinter due to the chaos wrought by the trans-Atlantic slave trade and Portuguese meddling, many of the BaKongo ending up enslaved in places such as Haiti, Cuba, and Brazil. From an amazing book, Central Africans and Cultural Transformations in the American Diaspora, edited by Linda Heywood, I learned that forms of popular Catholicism practiced in this region of Central Africa likely shaped Haitian popular Catholicism in the 19th century, which can be seen in specific forms of Marian devotion and syncretistic practices. In addition, these crucifix objects show local styles fusing with Portuguese and European Catholic ritual art, with a Kongolese Christ. This reminds me of an earlier post I did on Beatriz Kimpa Vita, a self-proclaimed prophet who claimed to be possessed by Saint Anthony, who was of great importance to local Catholics, and proclaimed Jesus Christ was indeed black and from the Kongo, another example of Christianity's importance and following among the populace of the Kingdom of Kongo.