Shamans, Jaguars and the Taino

Reichel-Dolmatoff's The Shaman and the Jaguar: A Study of Narcotic Drugs Among the Indians of Colombia is one of those detailed studies of a South American tropical lowland population with potential relevance for the Taino. Although the Tukano live in the Colombian Amazon region and are rather far removed from the Antilles, they share a reliance on manioc, consumption of hallucinogens, ritual purging and fasting and shamanistic practices with the Taino peoples. Indeed, when Reichel-Dolmatoff begins the book with a historical overview, it becomes rather clear that the Taino peoples shared some of these deeply-held and cherished beliefs like the Tukano. Indeed, the prominence of the shaman in healing and the art inspired by hallucinations from using drugs suggests a very deeply rooted use of plants for hallucinations and entry into the other realms. Where the Desana and other related groups differ, however, is the lack of powerful chiefs. Based on Reichel-Dolmatoff's work, one can say that most Tukano in the Vaupes River region lived in malocas with headmen, but the headmen were not nearly as powerful as, say, the caciques were reputed to be. Instead, the indigenous peoples of this region of Colombia resided in exogamous groups who followed similar prohibitions on incest. Their neighbors, including an Arawakan group and the use of Lengua Geral (Tupi), connected them to other ethnic groups who, in the distant past, may have frequently went to war.

In spite of the significant differences between the Tukano and the Taino, one can still find utility in this book for understanding elements of Taino art and culture. The role of phosphenes in the visions seen by the Tukano after yaje and other rituals, for instance, has a direct impact on the decoration motifs and styles used in ceramics, gourd rattles, and house paintings. In addition, some of the vivid images, shapes and colors seen by the Tukano are always interpreted via cultural norms and mythological beliefs. The Taino case was likely similar in which certain recurring motifs and geometric patterns likely reflect the use of cohoba and long-term impact from its use. It is also possible that the Taino Sun lore and astronomical lore likely reflected a possibly similar belief in the role of the Sun, Moon, Stars, and the origins of humanity, culture heroes (like Deminian) and the creation myths. While there may only be a few superficial parallels between the two cultures, the Taino mythology, or the fragments of it available from Pane, indicate similar incest taboos and beliefs in bush spirits and possible anthropomorphic animals. However, without the amazing jaguar and other large feline predators, the island population of the indigenous Caribbean may have mythologically substituted the jaguar with a type of dog and other animals. This may explain some of the elaborate duhos with human and animal features. Moreover, the Taino may have also restricted at least some of the cohoba rituals to males, although we lack enough evidence to understand gender dynamics of Taino shamanism and the ingestion of hallucinogens.

Overall, Reichel-Dolmatoff's work reveals an important role played by yaje and other substances in Tukano ritual, society, and myth. The historical overview of Colombia's indigenous peoples indicates shared or similar practices, such as the Kogi and Muisca. The paye or shamans of the Tukano are, of course, products of specific historical, cultural, and geographic conditions. That said, their practice, background, and intellect suggest possible ways to interpret the Taino behiques of the pre-Columbian Antilles. A study of shamans, hallucinogens and jaguar transformation among coastal lowland populations in northern South America would be even better for our purposes. That said, without an animal comparable to the jaguar, one wonders how Taino beliefs in transformation and possibly perspectivism may have operated. Were there similar beliefs about the role of transforming into a type of dog that allowed one to violate social norms on sex and violence? And is Reichel-Dolmatoff too obsessed with applying a Freudian analysis emphasizing sex in every aspect of Tukano myth and ritual?

Ancient Nubia

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

Borno Feudalism

While perusing Ronald Cohen's "The Dynamics of Feudalism in Bornu" we felt compelled to record some of our thoughts. Cohen, building on his ethnographic work among the Kanuri, endeavors to apply the feudal framework to the political system of Borno. Since the "fief" was allocated from the Sayfawa mai (or Kanembu Shehus) to nobles with the right to tax said land, but the central authority never lost the ability to revoke such allotments, Cohen sees Borno as diverging from feudalism as developed in medieval Europe. Moreover, Cohen sees in the Borno case another major difference due to the inconsistency of primogentire for royal succession. Unlike Europe, where primogeniture became the rule, several rulers of Kanem-Borno were succeeded by non-filial relatives. The large size of the Magumi royal clan and the growth of various lineage segments throughout the course of its long history created conditions in which there were always a number of potential contenders for the throne.

Adding into the mix of this often volatile political equation is the role of a major council that invested new kings. Cohen did not delve deeper into this, but a council who confirmed the new king plus competing lineages for the royal throne created conditions in which Borno's political system was often unstable, particularly after famines, unsuccessful wars, or other moments of crisis. In order to combat this instability in royal succession, Borno rulers began to increasingly rely on slave officials and outsiders of the Sayfawa lineages in order to ensure loyalty. In order to maintain the loyalty of subordinates, the rulers of Borno ensured they possessed the means to revoke fiefs given to them and maintained their subordinate position. Furthermore, the ubiquitous role of the patron-client relations and relative absence of currency led to a general social pattern in which subordinates provided labor, fealty and services to a superior in exchange for protection, occupation, economic advancement, political office, and security. Overall, the "unique" Borno feudal state was centralized in some ways but appears to have been inherently unstable in the long-run, yet Cohen may have missed aspects of stability and centralizing tendencies apparent in apparently "weak" rulers of the Sayfawa dynasty. 

A Short History of Benin

Jacob Egharevba's A Short History of Benin is one of those classic texts on a well-known West African historical state. Egharevba's short account is mainly based on oral sources. Due to his family background and access to the royal court and keepers of the historical tradition, Egharevba's short history manages to cover over 700 years of history in 100 pages (fourth edition). While some may take issue with his attempt to read Oranmiyan as a historical king of Benin or perhaps even the historicity of the Ogiso kings who preceded the descendants of Oranmiyan, Egharevba's account supplies a number of important details on Benin from the 15th century until 1897. In fact, a number of details, anecdotes, and episodes of political conflict during the reigns of various obas points to the ongoing struggle between the obas and the Uzama, Iyase, and other sources of authority. 

Indeed, at different moments, Benin supposedly tried a republican form of government. Unpopular, greedy obas were also sometimes overthrown or challenged by its subjects. This long-running dynamic between royal authority and the kingmakers and chiefs could sometimes be won in the favor of the obas. However, even some of the most notable obas, like Ewuare, allegedly caused great misfortune during his mourning of the death of his two sons. Princes sometimes fought for the throne, showing another of instability in the political system (in spite of an oba enacting primogeniture as the rule of succession). Furthermore, the longer reigns of some obas also created problems if they were succeeded by old sons. These heirs to the throne may have been less effective at resisting the council of kingmakers and other chiefs. Perhaps the situation was analogous to the period of older alafins in Oyo appointed by the Oyo Mesi, an issue mentioned by Robin Law's analysis of that Yoruba kingdom.

Benin was also fascinating for its relations with Europe. Although Ryder should probably be read for a full account of that, Egharevba's account suggests local Christianity persisted in some form until the late 17th century. Indeed, he claims one oba and a number of princes were actually literate in Portuguese. Other obas took an interest in European technology, like telescopes. The full story of Benin's relations with the West are interesting, but it would have been interesting if Egharevba had been able to find more information about the local use of Portuguese for literacy and the manner in which the Ohensa administered the local Catholic churches. Additionally, though it would have been difficult when first published, it would have enriched the study if analysis of the famous Benin bronzes was attempted. According to Egharevba, the art of brass casting entered Benin from Ife and the pieces were part of the local method of recording history. A careful analysis of those artistic masterpieces, European textual sources, and Benin oral traditions, including those outside the royal court, would have led to a richer history of one of the major kingdoms of precolonial Nigeria. 

From al-Lamtuni to al-Suyuti

Reading John Hunwick's "Notes on a late fifteenth-century document concerning 'al-Takrur'"in African Perspectives is essential for early Air history and local Islamic reformism. Although some scholars disagree with locating al-Lamtuni's home in Air or Takedda, Hunwick presents a convincing case for a Air origin. The nature of al-Lamtuni's questions posed to the Egyptian scholar, al-Suyuti, allude to a region whose population included a mixture of Tuareg, Hausa and likely Fulbe elements. The Tuareg practice of matrilineal inheritance, female spirit possession (and the Hausa bori cult), an elaborate royal court culture reminiscent of Agadez and Hausa states, and the belief in "idols," employment of praise singers and dancers, and prostration before the ruler sound like Agadez (or, alternatively, another state in the Central Sudan and even parts of the Western Sudan). According to al-Lamtuni, women and men did not conduct themselves appropriately and local residents also frequently raided each other and plundered. This sounds like the Tuareg of Air, although other Saharan Berber populations could be intended. However, in light of all the evidence and the likelihood that al-Suyuti wrote his response to al-Lamtuni at the same time as his epistles to the rulers of Agadez and Katsina, Hunwick is probably correct to assume al-Lamtuni was describing the society of late 15th century Air. 

As Hunwick states, the Islam of the masses was likely weak and retained several local customs, superstitions, and practices. The belief in sorcery, ill-omened days or birds, possession of women by jinn, and passion for charms or talismans do suggest either the Air region or, perhaps, the area of the Niger Bend. However, what is even more interesting about the short exchange between two intellectuals is what it suggests about the nature of the state in the Central Sudan. Although the sultans of Agadez were initially chosen as arbiters of the Tuareg clans in the region, their courts and their attempts to consolidate authority and control taxation resemble those of Sudanic states. Indeed, according to al-Lamtuni, the rulers of his land divided land into smaller units, perhaps "fiefs," whose appointees collected taxes on behalf of the ruler. These local officials, sometimes chiefs or elders or others, proceeded to overtax those lands and exploit the population. Some even chose to allow "pagans" to inhabit their lands, engaged in commerce with them, or associated with them rather than Muslims. This is perhaps a reference to the lightly-Islamized or non-Islamic rural Hausa and Fulbe in the region as well as very lax Tuareg. Hunwick even sees an early reference to the pivotal salt trade from Bilma to Air and Hausaland in al-Lamtuni's questions. If so, the trade in salt between Bilma and Kawar to Hausaland via Air must have been a major source of revenue and exchange for the rulers of Agadez. Borno, at the time still the dominant power in Kawar, must have also especially interested in secure trade routes and influence in Air or its surroundings. 

Despite its limitations, al-Lamtuni's questions are a testament to the early Agadez state's attempts to establish a system of taxation and administration that derived revenue from taxes in kind. Moreover, the state established a system of market dues on horses, camels, goats, cows, slaves, firewood, clothes, as well as entry and exist at the city gates. While Hunwick believed the rulers of this region could have also been a reference to the Agadez, Takedda and a third local ruler, we find it more likely for it to represent a single burgeoning royal court at Agadez. It established a system of taxation and land tenure that, despite the limitations of its authority over the Tuareg, was able to lay the foundations for a state that persisted into the 19th century. As a royal court with Hausa and Central Sudanic foundations, one can glimpse the attempts at statecraft of a Central Sudanic type seen in Kanem-Borno or among the Hausa states. The process in this case, however, never quite succeeded to attain the degree of centralization of the prominent Hausa states or Borno. Perhaps due to the lack of a sufficient agricultural base and internecine conflicts among the Tuareg clans of Air, Agadez could not centralize to the same degree as Borno. Nonetheless, the Islamic reformism of its scholars undoubtedly influenced Uthman dan Fodio and the jihad that transformed the Central Sudan in the 19th century. 

Oyo Empire, c.1600-c.1836

Robin Law's Ọyọ Empire, c.1600-c.1836: a West African imperialism in the era of the Atlantic slave trade was one of those important studies of a major West African polity that we found difficult to read a year ago. We believed it was relying too heavily on fragmentary traditions and hearsay that entered into the contemporary European sources to be sufficiently accurate. However, since it was published in the 1970s and of course relied heavily on local oral traditions in addition to classic studies by Yoruba authors like Johnson, we decided to revisit Law's book. As he himself admitted, his study relied on limited sources and some of its conclusions will hopefully be advanced or rebutted by subsequent scholarship. Nonetheless, as one would expect from a meticulous like Law who has written extensively on the Slave Coast, his study of the Oyo Empire during the same era endeavors to contextualize Oyo's expansion in the era of the Trans-Atlantic Slave Trade. 

Oyo, as major supplier of captives to the ports of the Slave Coast, was, however, a hinterland kingdom based on a cavalry force. This cavalry, supplied from the north, meant Oyo was deeply connected to Nupe, Bariba, and even Hausaland and Borno for horses, equipment, and goods acquired through trans-Saharan trade. Thus, Oyo provides an interesting example of an Atlantic trading state (which for a time commanded tribute from Porto Novo, Badagry, Allada and Dahomey) which also had close ties to the savanna states to the north. Indeed, the mention of "Yoruba" slaves by Timbuktu scholar Ahmad Baba and the trade in horses and slaves between Kano and the Nupe must have brought the Oyo Yoruba into contact with Muslim Sudanic West African traders by the 16th century. After a period of Bariba and Nupe rule, a resurgent Oyo was able, by the 1600s, able to expand and use its own cavalry to assert itself effectively in savanna territories around Oyo (and the southwest). Even some hilly areas or regions with politically fragmented Yoruba fell under Oyo rule, through a combination of Oyo colonists and military force. Gradually, Oyo was able to profit from both the Atlantic trade via the coast as well as the northern trade routes that linked it to the Sudanic regions. 

Instead of providing captives to the north in exchange for horses, like in its earlier period of growth, Oyo was able to trade cowries and European goods for horses from northern suppliers. Indeed, by the late 18th century, with access to the coast through ports like Porto Novo, Oyo was likely a major supplier of Hausa and northern slaves to the Atlantic trade. Oyo's own textile industry and far-ranging traders also continued to prosper, seeming to avoid any negative internal impact of the slave trade (such as insecurity) until its later years of decline. Indeed, Oyo may have benefitted from a more monetized economy stimulated by trade, cowries, textiles, foodstuffs produced for traders (and captives) and redistributed imported European goods or silks, natron and leather goods from the north. Oyo, like Dahomey and Asante, appears to have been able to combine imperial expansion and Atlantic slave trade to become wealthier states. Unfortunately for Oyo, however, political centralization did not reach the level of Benin, Dahomey or Asante. The alafins of Oyo were never able to completely subdue the powerful Oyo Mesi and the Basorun, who controlled the capital's army. Instead, the alafins of Oyo had to rely on palace slaves and officials they appointed to oversee provinces, collect tribute, and command the provincial army to expand the state and increase their own power. 

However, after Basorun Gaha seized power in the middle of the 18th century, Abiodun was only able to restore the alafin to effective authority through an alliance with the head of the provincial army. This, however, led to further problems with the coup d'etat against Awole in c.1796, when the head of the provincial army decided to rebel against Awole. This, followed by Afonja inciting a Muslim rebellion and further conflict between provincial leaders against an Alafin who could accumulate too much power, paved the way for Oyo's eventual collapse. Oyo, according to Law, was thus unable to attain a comparable degree of centralization to that of Benin, Dahomey and Asante. Whether or not it was really due to the reliance on cavalry for the military (the costs of maintenance for imported horses being too costly for kings alone to finance), Law appears to be correct in noting the lack of adequate centralization to ensure imperial stability. Consequently, after reaching perhaps its imperial and slave trading peak in the 1780s, Oyo declined afterwards as Afonja and the repercussions of Uthman dan Fodio's jihad destroyed Oyo. 

What we find interesting about Oyo is in its role as an imperial middleman between the Sudanic states and the Atlantic. Horses from the north, captives and luxuries acquired through the trans-Saharan trade were sold in Oyo just as European products and cowries circulated north. Oyo, through its reliance on cavalry, may have lacked the degree of centralization of Borno (despite a similar "fief" system of allocating tribute rights) since it had to incur the costs of importing horses and maintenance. Oyo, nonetheless, appears to have faced limitations on its expansion as the forested southern Yorubaland territories were able to resist cavalry. Northern expansion was thwarted by the Nupe and Bariba states who possessed easier access to horses, even if Oyo did succeed in imposing tribute on southern Nupe and Bariba states. Even Oyo expansion to the southwest, for access to the coast through Dahomey and Porto Novo, was likewise limited by the rainy season that made it difficult to permanently retain control over the area. In conclusion, Oyo may have been more restricted than some of its northern, cavalry-based trading partners due to the geographic and climate factors in Lower Guinea. Perhaps these checks imposed on Oyo expansion contributed to the weakening of centralization? If, perhaps, an interior kingdom with access to horses had been able to permanently conquer and administer Dahomey and Porto Novo, unhindered access to Atlantic trade and ongoing northern economic exchange may have stimulated a more centralized Oyo with effective use of firearms?

Taino En Bas Saline

Kathleen Deagan's En Bas Saline: A Taino Town Before and After Columbus is a dry study of an important Taino town on the northern coast of Hispaniola. Possibly the site of La Navidad as well as the main settlement of cacique Guacanagaric, En Bas Saline's indigenous population appears to have been a Chican culture occupying an area of Meillacoid populations. Of course, due to the lack of adequate excavations across northern Haiti, the degree to which the Meillacoid and Chican ceramic styles really indicate cultural identity is unknown. Indeed, despite research at the site of En Bas Saline conducted since the 1980s, we still lack enough information about the nature of the site and if it really was the capital of Guacanagaric. However, analysis of ceramic remains, evidence of structures and the central mound and plaza, faunal remains, ornaments, tools, and postcontact artifacts collectively suggest the site was the settlement of a cacique. Lamentably, the exact nature of Taino sociality and the degree to which Taino cacicazgos were corporate chiefdoms or centered in an individual remains a debate. It is too early to say definitively what exactly was the basis for chiefly authority and to what extent they controlled or redistributed goods and the economy. It was also strange that Deagan did not find evidence of cemis or other artifacts associated with caciques. While evidence for some degree of stratification can be traced in the elite residences and an elite infant burial, it would seem that Guacangaric was a minor cacique compared to the well-known figures of Caonabo or Beheccio.