From Guacayarima to Higuey: Catalina de Habacoa

 

Whilst perusing Arranz Marquez's Repartimientos y encomiendas en la Isla Española: El repartimiento de Albuquerque de 1514, we saw yet another cacique from the western part of the island whose community was forced to serve encomenderos in what is now the Dominican Republic. According to Peter Martyr d'Anghiera, Habacoa was a district or canton in Guacayarima (the southwestern part of Haiti). Thus, the cacique, Catalina de Habacoa, whose 44 Indians were forced to work to 2 Spaniards in Higuey, likely had to travel from one end of the island to another. This obviously meant that many indigenous peoples were forcibly relocated from the area they called home before 1492, and this likely contributed to the high mortality rates of the native population as they resisted, succumbed to hunger, or experienced disease and horrendous working conditions. 

The Cacicazgo of Marien

Map of Chican site clusters from Deagan's En Bas Saline: A Taíno Town Before and After Columbus

One aspect of Hispaniola's indigenous history that has been debated recently is the status of Guacanagaric as a paramount chief. Since it is possible that Columbus and the early European colonists misunderstood the nuances of indigenous political systems and possible changes in power relations, some have argued that Guacanagaric was possibly a subordinate or lesser cacique whose importance was exaggerated by Spanish accounts and his early alliance with Columbus. A problem with this narrative, however, is the power of Guacanagaric and the Marien chiefdom can be evaluated based on archaeological and historical evidence. While much remains to be done in terms of understanding the indigenous settlements and political arrangements in northern Haiti before 1492, the fact that Guacanagaric's probable capital, En Bas Saline, had one of the largest known plazas on the island of Hispaniola is significant. Evidence of public, monumental architecture and early Spanish sources suggest that Guacanagaric probably was one of, if not the most powerful, cacique on the northern coast of the island from at least Guarico (Cap-Haitien) to Monte Cristi, including parts of the northern plains and sierras to the south. 

Deagan's map of En Bas Saline in relation to the north coast

First, let's begin with the written sources. Columbus, whose Journal of the First Voyage in Journal of Christopher Columbus, is one of our earliest texts, saw Guacanagaric as a "youth" who was carried on a litter and accompanied by 200 men (117). In addition, Columbus later met 5 kings (caciques) subject to Guacanagari (141). This precious testimony suggests that Guacanagari was possibly a young, new ruler in 1492. Yet, despite his youthful appearance, he had at least 5 lesser caciques serving him. Or, at least that's what Columbus believed. Besides Columbus, the chronicler Oviedo also wrote of Guacanagari and Marien. According to Oviedo, a relative of Guacanagari accompanied Columbus on the return to Spain, where he was baptized and took the name of the Spanish monarch (30). This supports the idea of Guacanagari being recognized by the Spanish as a powerful king or Lord. Oviedo similarly wrote of Guacanagari's alleged sexual improprieties with his many women (133). Well, according to Jose Oliver, the cacique had 20 wives at one point (157). While still fewer than Behechio of Xaragua, some of these wives were likely part of matrimonial alliances with other caciques or lesser caciques. Accumulating so many wives was likely part of a strategy pursued by caciques to enhance their position on the island through alliances with different communities. Indeed, stealing or killing the wife of another cacique was of great significance. For example, Columbus's son wrote that Behechio of Xaragua, for instance, was said to have murdered a wife of Guacanagaric while Caonabo stole another. This would have disrupted alliances and family networks that affected how subordinate caciques or nitainos viewed their relationship with Guacanagaric. 

A  guaíza from En Bas Saline. Guacanagari gifted elaborate types of these to Columbus. 

Columbus and the early Spanish sources  provide a wealth of details, despite their obvious limitations and bias. For instance, these sources provide an idea of things that were considered valuable in Marien. Cotton, for instance, was common at Guacanagari's village (Columbus 128). Elsewhere, a relation of tribute received from Indians in 1495, lists gold and an elaborate belt with 4 sheets of gold given by Guacanagari (Relación del oro y joyas que recibió el Almirante después que el receptor Sebastián de Olaño partió de la isla Española para Castilla, desde 10 de Marzo de 1495"). Thus, even without control of gold mining areas, Guacanagari's chiefdom still had access to fine and elaborate gold objects, belts, and even a frog-shaped grain of gold. Villages or settlements in the region could also be rather large. Guarico, nearby, may have held over 2000 people (Columbus 130). Furthermore, the land of Guarionex was said to be located 4 days to the east. This suggests that, roughly, Las Casas, writing in Apologética historia sumaria, may have been broadly correct when he wrote that Marien covered the northern coast after Guahaba to Vega Real, including parts of the Vega Real and the sierras. It was then followed by Macorix de abajo, which included Monte Cristi. Overall, Marien covered 15 leagues or more, and likely even more territory when the hills were included. Elsewhere, in "A Short Account of the Destruction of the Indies, Las Casas claimed to have personally met several high-ranking vassals of Guacanagari (20). This is further, albeit late and problematic, testimony of Guacanagari likely possessing paramount chieftain status in the North. 

Gilbert R. Valmé's aerial view of En Bas Saline and the larger Plaine du Nord region in Haiti.

Perhaps the most detailed yet problematic source of all is an account of Guacanagari's capital described by Luis Joseph Peguero. A writer from the Spanish colony, he may have had access to lost sources, including an account by Rodrigo Escobedo and Juan Salsedo. These two allegedly went to Guacanagari's court. One pueblo in the chiefdom, Cacuma, allegedly held 300 houses. The capital of Marien, likely today's En Bas Saline, was said to have 8000 houses of straw and wood. There were allegedly 4 streets, 4 barrios or sections, and a plaza in the center with the "palace" of the king in the midway point of the plaza (Peguero 38). It is very likely that the estimate of 8000 houses is a gross exaggeration, although Escobedo and Salsedo may have meant the larger district and not just the main settlement. Besides this estimate of 8000 houses, the capital's plaza contained a large house on its Southside where 100 soldiers and officials were (39). This may be an allusion to important elders and soldiers (nitainos) who assisted Guacanagari in the administration of the chiefdom. Later, the cacique was said to have had 25 nobles in his personal guard and a court with 8 elders (40). If he was relatively young in 1492, these elders may have been advisors who offered wisdom and practical experience in government. The Spaniards allegedly saw the temple of Marien, too. Supposedly square-shaped, made of wood and containing idols (including those fabricated with gold), the temple may have been a caney or similar structures used for various ceremonies (41). The idea of a highly ranked or stratified society also emerges in the description of the temple as having 4 separate entrances/exits for the different classes: royal family, nobles, plebeians and one only entered by the dead (used for funerary rites or rituals?). Guacanagari's palace was allegedly 32 paths long, 10 wide and divided into 4 parts. His palace included a nearby section used by 40 or more Indian women who cooked or prepared food (42). Later on, Peguero wrote of Guacanagari sending 800 archers to fight for the Spanish (73). While Peguero also blamed Roldan's rebels for burning Guacanagari's Pueblo and killing him for failing to pay tribute, other sources suggest Guacanagari died alone, in the mountains, after earning the hatred of his people and the betrayal of his Spanish allies (Nau's version of events). 

Although there are obviously many questionable aspects of what Peguero wrote about Marien's capital, Deagan's work at the site of En Bas Saline partly affirms it. Settlement at En Bas Saline by people who made Chicoid pottery began about 250 years before the arrival of Columbus. It may have been a Chican intrusion into a part of northern Hispaniola occupied by Meillacoid pottery makers (36). In addition, En Bas Saline was the only known ceremonial plaza site on the coast (39). Its larger region may have stretched from the west side of Fort Liberte bay to the west side of the Bay of Acul (40). The site of En Bas Saline also covered 90,000 square meters and features public architecture (56). The central plaza covered around 50,000 square meters and featured 3 mounded areas (73). The elite mound site in the plaza was apparently 34 meters by 16 meters (98). The earliest definable building on the central mound was circular or elliptical in shape with a diameter of 12 meters (114). Using Curet's ratio of floor space-per-person, Deagan has estimated the central mound building may have housed 20-30 people (123). This could have been the 'palace' of Guacanagari described by Escobedo. In addition, the evidence for public feasting at the pits shows the communal nature of the space (129). However, Deagan did not see probable evidence for surplus storage distribution by the cacique for these feats (138). Nonetheless, she found evidence for control or organization of labor and the means of craft production at the elite mound in the plaza (232). This indicates that the cacique did exert some control over the means of production (at least for some goods). Further evidence of at least some degree of social stratification or "ranked" societies can be seen in the fact that the scarcest animals, iguanas, sea turtles, and manatees, were only found in the central mound residence and burial pit (270). This would match descriptions in the Spanish chronicles of caciques monopolizing certain types of meat and food (such as a finer quality of casabe). 

Ultimately, Deagan views En Bas Saline as a "corporate chiefdom model." This may very well be true, but it seems probable that Guacanagari was not a lesser or subordinate cacique. Indeed, there was a string of villages on Haiti's North coast which were connected by an aboriginal road that ran from En Bas Saline to the modern-day Dominican republic (Keegan, 72). It is likely that Guacanagari's Marien was the most powerful chiefdom in the region and exerted influence on most of (if not all) of Haiti's northern coast. Furthermore, the cacicazgo may have been engaged in trade with Lucayans from Turks and Caicos. Keegan, who identified a prominent site (MC-6) on Middle Caicos, has found imported Chicoid pottery and speculates that the settlement likely engaged in trade with the northern coast of Hispaniola. Indeed, Keegan has even proposed that Caonabo, said to be of Lucayan origin, was from MC-6 (Keegan, 148). If so, then it is possible that Caonabo may have known of Guacanagari's chiefdom before Guacanagari became its ruler. Moreover, Marien may have been able to control trade between Hispaniola and Turks & Caicos along Haiti's northern coast.

The evidence, despite its limitations, suggest Marien truly was the seat of a paramount cacicazgo. To what extent Guahaba was fully in its sphere of influence is uncertain, but population numbers from the 1514 Repartimiento for Lares de la Guahaba and Puerto Real are suggestive of a much greater population in the area of Puerto Real (built near En Bas Saline). The population of Guahaba, whose center may have been at Gros-Morne, could have been autonomous but gradually fell under the influence of Guacanagari as he tried to use his alliance with the Spanish to increase his status. Las Casas, who at least met several of the subordinates of Guacanagari, believed it covered at least 15 leagues of territory and Moreau de Saint-Mery extended its southern border to the Artibonite. The latter even included Port-de-Paix in Marien and posited that Guacanagari commanded as many as 200,000 people! Moreover, by c.1514, there were still hundreds of Indians assigned in encomiendas far away from Puerto Real, about 317 indigenous people, whose caciques were from Marien. They might represent the core of the Marien cacicazgo's population, decimated by colonial conquest and forced relocation. One can imagine that their population in 1492 was significantly larger, and Guacanagari's chiefdom may have extended its influence across much more of northern Haiti.

Bibliography

Casas, Bartolomé de las, and Edmundo O'Gorman. Apologética Historia Sumaria. [3. ed.]. México, 1967

Casas, Bartolomé de las, and Nigel Griffin. A Short Account of the Destruction of the Indies. London, England ; New York, N.Y.: Penguin Books, 1992.

Columbus, Christopher, and Clement Robert Markham. The Journal of Christopher Columbus: (during His First Voyage, 1492-93), and Documents Relating to the Voyages of John Cabot and Gaspar Corte Real. New York: B. Franklin, 1970.

Deagan, Kathleen A. En Bas Saline: A Taíno Town Before and After Columbus. Gainesville, FL: University of Florida Press, 2023.

Fernández de Oviedo y Valdés, G., Amador de los Ríos, J., & R. Academia de la historia, M. (1851). Historia general y natural de las Indias, islas y tierrafirme del mar océano. Impr. de la Real academia de la historia.

Keegan, William F., and Florida Museum of Natural History. Taíno Indian Myth and Practice: The Arrival of the Stranger King. Gainesville: University Press of Florida, 2007.

Moreau de Saint-Méry, M. L. E. Description Topographique, Physique, Civile, Politique Et Historique De La Partie Française De L'isle Saint-Domingue: Avec Des Observations Générales Sur Sa Population, Sur Le Caractère & Les Moeurs De Ses Divers Habitans, Sur Son Climat, Sa Culture, Ses Productions, Son Administration, &c. &c. : Accompagnées Des Détails Les Plus Propres à Faire Connaître L'état De Cette Colonie à L'époque Du 18 Octobre 1789 : Et D'une Nouvelle Carte De La Totalité De L'isle. A Philadelphie: Et s'y trouve chez l'auteur ..., 1797.

Nau, Émile. Histoire Des Caciques D'Haiti. Port-au-Prince: T. Bouchereau, imprimeur-editeur, rue Courbe, 1855.

Oliver, José R. 2009. Caciques and Cemí Idols : The Web Spun by Taíno Rulers between Hispaniola and Puerto Rico. Tuscaloosa: University of Alabama Press.

Peguero, Luis Joseph, Antonio de Herrera y Tordesillas, Biblioteca Nacional, and Publicaciones del Museo de las Casas Reales. Historia De La Conquista, De La Isla Española De Santo Domingo Trasumptada El Año De 1762: Traducida De La Historia General De Las Indias Escrita Por Antonio De Herrera Coronista Mayor De Su Magestad, Y De Las Indias, Y De Castilla, Y De Otros Autores Que Han Escrito Sobre El Particular. Santo Domingo: [Museo de las Casas Reales], 1975.

Stone, Erin W. "The Conquest of Española as a “Structure of Conjuncture”. Ethnohistory 1 July 2021; 68 (3): 363–383. doi: https://doi.org/10.1215/00141801-8940494

Valmé, Gilbert R. Atabey, Yacayequey, Caney, 6000 Ans D'aménagement Territorial Préhispanique Sur L'île D'Ayiti: Haïti/République Dominicaine : Une Approche Holistique Du Patrimoine Zux Antilles : Les Paysages Culturels. Pompano Beach, Florida: Educa Vision, 2012.

Siècles Obscurs: The Alifas of Kanem and the Tunjur in the 17th and 18th Centuries

Zezerti, Alifa of Kanem in  Les coutumes familiales au Kanem by Robert Bouillié

One particularly difficult aspect of Kanem's history is establishing a better chronology for the series of alifas who ruled from Mao. First established by Dala Afuno under the auspices of the Sayfawa rulers of Borno, the alifas have not had their pre-19th century history documented extensively. Indeed, most accounts appear to rely on oral traditions, but a clearer picture only emerges in the 19th century. In that turbulent period, pressure from Wadai and the migration of the Awlad Sulayman and the loss of Borno's claims to any suzerainty in the region are recorded by various sources. In addition, European travelers such as Nachtigal or the early colonial-era administrators and scholars were able to collect traditions from what was then a very recent past. Unfortunately, what Zeltner has referred to as the siècles obscurs of Kanem (17th and 18th centuries) remain a mystery. Revisiting the various traditions from Kanembu, Borno, and Tunjur sources, we shall propose what may be a better chronology for understanding the exodus of the Bulala, the immigration of the Tunjur, and the rise of the Dala Afuno and the alifas of Mao.

First, the reign of Sabun of Wadai provides a relatively decent period for understanding the early 19th century in Kanem. According to Landeroin, the 14th alifa, Mele Koura, was deposed for endeavoring to force a Magumi group, the Yabouribous, to pay tribute. After attacking and pillaging their villages, Mele Koura was recalled to Birni Gazargamo and imprisoned. His brother, Hadji, was then appointed the alifa of Kanem. After occupying the office for ten years, he was overthrown by Mele Koura, who had escaped from Borno. With the aid of Sabun of Wadai, Mele Koura reoccupied his post as alifa of Kanem (Landeroin, 381). Since Sabun likely reigned from c.1804-1815 and Hadji was only alifa for 10 years, Hadji had to have held the post by 1805. This suggests that Mele Koura was deposed by the Sayfawa Sultan Ahmad b. Ali (r. 1792-1808). Keep in mind that Hadji could have occupied his post before 1805, too. For example, if his reign began in 1795 or 1796, and he was deposed by Mele Koura (with Sabun's aid) in 1805 or 1806, then the chronology would require some adjustment. Another event that might be correlated with the late 18th century is the intervention of Wadai in Mondo during the reign of Joda (1747-1795). His agid el-Bahr was said to have conquered Mondo and parts of Kanem near the end of his reign (Sahara and Sudan IV, 212).

What of the 13 preceding alifas of Kanem, who held the post in the 17th and 18th centuries? A clearer understanding of when the Bulala ruling dynasty lost control of Kanem and became centered around Lake Fitri may help. In terms of Bagirmi's history, Nachtigal dated the reign of Burkomanda 1635-1665. This mbang had a sister married to the Bulala sultan at Fitri (Sahara and Sudan III, 405). Nachtigal's dates are not infallible, but suggests that the Bulala sultans were based in the Fitri around by the mid-17th century. Tunjur historical tradition in Mondo sheds further light on the Bulala exit as well. According to Gros, whose study of the Tunjur was published in Les Arabes du Tchad, the Tunjur were led into Kanem by Diab, a son of Daoud, the last Tunjur king before the formal establishment of Wadai by Abd al-Kerim. Supposedly, Daoud reigned 17 years before Darfur fell to Solimon Solong (Gros, 272). It is perhaps best not to take this number too literally, and it could be only used relatively since firm regnal dates for the founder the Darfur sultanate are lacking. But, it was not Daoud who led the Tunjur to Kanem. That occurred under the leadership of his successors. Nonetheless, he was said to have launched raids that had reached Kanem (Gros, 275). The actual migration to Kanem occurred around the year 1630. However, Gros attributes the first attack on the Bulala at Mao to Smain, a grandson of Daoud. Allegedly taking place 3 years after the death of Diab, the Tunjur forces struck and seized Mao, a city which still had brick walls or edifices. Supposedly, Borno did not intervene at this time due to past conflicts with a Bulala sultan named Muhammad al-Fadil. If this tradiion is reliable, then it was only under the second generation of leadership in Kanem that the Tunjur were able to take Mao and dislodge the Bulala (Gros, 278).

Of course, this traditional history (as told by Gros) is not always consistent chronologically. But it is plausible for the Tunjur not being strong enough to defeat the Bulala immediately upon arrival in Kanem. Tunjur tradition, however, suggests the first alifa sent by Borno, Dala Afuno, did not arrive until the 18th century. After Smain b. Diab died in c.1720, his son, Ramadan became the next Tunjur leader. It was this Tunjur leader who was attacked and killed by Dala Afuno in c.1735. This late date might have been meant to weaken the prestige of the Dalatoa of Mao. Indeed, Gros's Tunjur informants told him that Dala Afuno was originally a vassal of Ramadan (Gros, 279). Since there is no evidence of this elsewhere, it is very likely that Tunjur traditionists sought to increase their own status and history in Kanem while delegitimizing that of their political rivals, the Dalatoa. Indeed, Landeroin's account of Dala Afuno mentions no conflict with the Tunjur at all. It is possible that Mao was already abandoned or quickly fell to the Dalatoa while the Tunjur were largely limited to Mondo. Unsurprisingly, the next Tunjur head, Brahim, was said to have encouraged the Kanembu and Haddad to rebel against the alifas of Kanem. This is likely true, as Landeroin noted that most of the alifas of the 17th and 18th centuries had to wage various campaigns against multiple ethnic groups in Kanem to ensure the payment of tribute (Landeroin, 380).

Despite giving what is almost certainly an unreasonably late date for the arrival of Dala Afuno, Gros's traditions provide another clue for establishing a timeline. According to Gros, Yusuf, the next Tunjur leader, actually traveled to Borno to receive the kadmoul and become a fougbou. The Sayfawa mai who invested him was remembered in tradition as Tschoulloum Aouami (Gros, 279). This mai is difficult to identify, but Kanuri praise songs for the sultans of Borno might provide essential clues. In this case, a song to Muhammad b. al-hajj Hamdum, who likely reigned from 1729-1744, alludes to the Kurata in Kanem as "slaves" of the mai (Bornu Sahara and Sudan, 254). These "Kurata" slaves of the Borno ruler could be Yusuf, the fougbou of Kanem, and his following. Moreover, the praise song identifies the mother of the mai as Hawa, possibly matching the Aouami in the name remembered by the Tunjur. In addition, Jean-Claude Zeltner has connected the Kurata in Kanem with the Tunjur in his history of the Arabs of the Lake Chad Basin (Zeltner, 51). Thus, in a Kanuri praise song to a Sayfawa mai who reigned in the years 1729-1744, Yusuf of the Tunjur at Mondo could have come to Gazargamo for formal investment. Certainly, by 1744, the rulers of Borno were claiming authority over the Kurata (Tunjur) and Tunjur traditions are compatible with this timeline.

What of other ways for improving the chronology for the origin of Dala Afuno and the Dalatoa in Kanem? Landeroin repeated semi-legendary tales of Dala Afuno and his victory against the last of the Sao giants. This clearly legendary story serves as a pretext for his appointment to rule Kanem, as his popularity in Gazargamo worried the mai (Landeroin 379). Besides identifying his Magumi father, Mallam Madou, and assigning an origin in a village in Hausaland called Afo or Apo, we have little to work with. The traditions as recorded by Landeroin suggest Dala Afuno was taken captive by the Sayfawa when they seized control of Borno, which may be a reference to a Borno raid or attack on part of Hausaland (Landeroin, 379). Well, we do have records of an attack on Kano launched by Idris Alooma (r. 1564-1596). Is it possible that Dala Afuno was taken captive in one of these attacks, then brought to Gazargamo?  The Kano Chronicle seemingly refers to the attack on Kano by Borno during the reign of Abdullahi. Palmer assigns a regnal date of 1509-1565, which is likely incorrect (far too long reign of 58 years, though we have no alternatives). Nonetheless, during his reign 3 mallams from Borno came to Kano, Karsaku, Magumi and Kabi (Kano Chronicle, 79). Is it possible Dala Afuno, whose name might have been a reference to Kano and Hausaland, was the son of Magumi? If so, then he would have had to been rather young when brought to Gazargamo. This may also explain his legendary victory against the last Sao giant, possibly a reference to remnant "Sao" populations in Borno (Tatala and Gafata) after Idris Alooma's campaigns. Alternatively, Dala could be added to Dala Afuno's name in order to mark an achievement related to building a walled town or fortifications, as Lange has suggested (Lange, 119-120).

Nachtigal, on the other hand, believed that Dala Afuno was a Hausa slave. Apparently, he also believed that the Tunjur were initially accepted by Borno as legitimate rulers of Kanem, until they became too independent (Sahara and Sudan III, 9). Furthermore, Nachtigal saw ruins of a castle near Mao which was apparently once a Tunjur garrison until Dala Afuno made it his birni (11). This matches the traditions recorded by Gros on the Tunjur seizing Mao (which had brick structures or walls) from the Bulala. If so, Dala Afuno may have arrived in Kanem during the reign of Ali b. Umar (1639-1677) in Borno. That would best match the timeline of events in Kanem where the Tunjur arrived sometime between 1630 and 1650 and the Bulala sultans were installed in the Fitri region before 1665. 

Of course, one is tempted to consider Umar b. Idris of Borno as the first to install an alifa in Kanem since he appointed the first galadima at Nguru (a son of his by a slave woman). But the chronological details suggested here and the fact that there were only 5 generations of Tunjur sultans by c.1744 (4 only in Kanem and not before) might take the origin back to the 1630s or 1640s. It is unlikely that Dala Afuno arrived in the 18th century. Consequently, Dala Afuno may have arrived sometime in the 1640s after the Tunjur established themselves. The generational account based on the list of Landeroin (9 generations of alifas by the early 1800s) might push the birth of Dala Afuno back to the late 16th century, which is compatible with him arriving in Kanem by the 1640s if not earlier. If Dala Afuno was from a village ruled by Kano, we suspect his father may have been the mallam called "Magumi" in the Kano Chronicle. Of course, this is pure speculation, but could be a plausible explanation for traditions of Dala Afuno as a slave from Hausaland and the son of a Magumi mallam. Ultimately, we are forced to concur with Lavers general date of 1642 as the latest in which the first alifa would have begun the dynasty in Kanem.

Sources

Courtecuisse, L(editor). Les Arabes du Tchad  / par L. Courtecuisse [and others]. Paris: Centre de hautes études administratives sur l’Afrique et l’Asie modernes, 1971.

Lange, Dierk.  A Sudanic Chronicle: The Borno Expeditions of Idrīs Alauma (1564-1576) According to the Account of Aḥmad B. Furṭū : Arabic Text, English Translation, Commentary and Geographical Gazetteer. Stuttgart: F. Steiner, 1987.

Nachtigal, Gustav, Allan G. B. Fisher, and Humphrey J (trans.). Fisher. Sahara and Sudan, Vol. 3. Berkeley and; Los Angeles: University of California Press, 1971.

Palmer, H.R. The Bornu Sahara and Sudan. London: J. Murray, 1936.

__________. Palmer, H. R. “The Kano Chronicle.” The Journal of the Royal Anthropological Institute of Great Britain and Ireland 38 (1908): 58–98. https://doi.org/10.2307/2843130.

Zeltner, J. C. Histoire des Arabes sur les rives du lac Tchad. Paris: E. Karthala, 2002.

__________. Pages D'histoire Du Kanem: Pays Tchadien. Paris: Harmattan, 1980.

Revisiting the Mahram of the N'Galma Duku Witness List

 

Whilst revisiting Bobboyi's work on the mahram texts that have survived in Borno, we came across an interesting find. Bobboyi actually located an Arabic text in Geidam that is a version of the "Mahram of the N'Galma Duku" published in H.R. Palmer's Bornu Sahara and Sudan. The witness list in the Geidam copy found by Bobboyi was apparently shorter than the version used by Palmer. Nonetheless, one notices that a Dunama b. Salma appears as a yarima while the talib was named Yunus. We strongly suspect Dunama b. Salma to have been a yerima during the reign of his father, Salma (sometimes rendered Tsilim). Furthermore, we believe that the talib listed as a witness was the grandfather of Kaday b. Dunama. We've made our case before, but this Arabic copy of the mahram that is likely more reliably translated by Bobboyi is further indication that the yerima in the text was probabl a young Dunama b. Dibalemi. 

The Mystery of the Mune

 

A plausible map of Kanem's 13th century apogee available on Wikipedia.

The Mune, an object opened by Dunama Dibalemi (r. 1210-1248), is one of the heavily contested or debated topics in the annals of the Sayfawa dynasty. Said to have led to the period of strife, defeat, and civil wars that followed Dunama Dibalemi's reign, the Mune has been interpreted by some as a pagan relic, an Islamic covenant, and even tied to Egyptian conspiracies against the mai. Older academics tried to contextualize it as Dunama the ardent Islamic reformer, eager to end pre-Islamic customs or influences in the state. Others stress the interpretation of Ahmad b. Furtu or Muhammad Yanbu, which suggests the Mune was a revered Islamic relic. Thus, in their eyes, Dunama Dibalemi went against Islam and the advice of his court. A thorough second look at the various contexts in which the Mune was discussed in Borno sources as well as an examination of Kanuri religious practices may shed additional light on this poorly understood aspect of Kanem-Borno history. Ultimately, the Mune may best be understood as a symbol for proper leadership.

 

Let us begin with one of the earliest written sources on the Mune. Ahmad b. Furtu, chief imam and chronicler of Idris b. Ali (r. 1564-1596), mentioned the Mune in the context of Idris b. Ali's campaigns against the Bulala sultan in Kanem. Since Kanem was the ancient homeland of the Sayfawa dynasty, it is not surprising that Ahmad b. Furtu also wrote of visits to the burial places of Sayfawa ancestors or compared Idris b. Ali to Dunama Dibalemi. It would seem that by the 16th century, Borno tradition remembered Dunama Dibalemi as a seminal figure in the history of the maiwa. Informants on this past included elders and sheikhs. More specifically, a shaykh named Wunoma Muhammad al-Saghir ibn Tuguma spoke of Dunama Dibalemi's army including 30,000 cavalry (Sudanese Memoirs I, 50). In terms of the Mune itself, Ahmad b. Furtu wrote it "was a certain thing wrapped up and hidden away whereon depended their victory in war" (Sudanese Memoirs I, 69-70). It was thus something held by the Sayfawa dynasty for generations and believed to be essential for military victory or success. Ahmad b. Furtu stressed that Dunama Dibalemi disobeyed "his people" by opening the Mune and whatever was inside flew away. In addition to losing what ensured victory against infidels, Ahmad b. Furtu wrote, "It is said that when Dunama opened it, whatever was inside flew away impelling the chief men of the kingdom to greed for dominion and high rank" (Sudanese Memoirs I, 70). As if it was not already clear, Ahmad b. Furtu also compared the Mune to the Ark of the Covenant and immediately wrote of the war with the Tubu during Dunama Dibalemi's reign. This was followed by further conflict with the Bulala. Undoubtedly, Ahmad b. Furtu (and presumably elders and shaykhs relying on tradition) saw the Mune as Ilslamic and something held by the Banu Sayf for generations which ensured their military victories as well as internal political stability.

The next source, the Diwan, is much briefer. Since we are relying on the French translation of Lange, which used a 19th century copy found by Barth, we are assuming the Diwan given to Barth represented a 19th century product. While there may have been a longer chronicle or much earlier girgams that were periodically updated over the centuries, we do not have any such document from the reign of Dunama Dibalemi or his immediate successors. So, what does the Diwan tell us about the Mune? Like Ahmad b. Furtu, the chronicle attributes the opening of the Mune, a thing known only to God the most high, to Dunama Dibalemi. Moreover, like Ahmad b. Furtu, it also tells us that Dunama engaged in at least one war, his sons were dispersed. Furthermore, "Auparavant il n'y avait pas eu des factions" (Diwan, 72). Unmistakably, the Diwan emphasizes the rise of political factions with the sons of the mai taking different sides. This corroborates the view of Ahmad b. Furtu, who wrote of the chief men of Kanem aspiring to higher positions and power after the opening of the Mune. The general picture is one of the Mune as a holy object and the opening or cutting of it was actually un-Islamic. In his commentary on it, Lange tried to argue that the Diwan and Ahmad b. Furtu saw the "pagan" object as something that must be maintained by the Sayfawa for reasons of state security. However, it is far more likely that the authors of these aforementioned texts truly believed that the Mune was a Muslim object akin to the Ark of the Covenant. 

The next major source on the Mune is Muhammad Yanbu. A scion of the Sayfawa dynasty who lived in the 18th and 19th centuries, Yanbu wrote al-Idara fi nizam al-mamlaka wa 'l-imara. This author wrote that the Mune was actually carried on military campaigns. Yanbu also emphasized the Mune as a convenant with Ten Commandments the Banu Say were supposed to maintain (Bobboyi, 87). One such commandment was, "Eightly, to hold fast, all together, to the rope of Allah and not be divided" (Bobboyi 88). This commandment seems particularly relevant since the Sayfawa princes apparently began to form or align themselves with factions, eventually leading to civil wars and internal discord that weakened Kanem after Dunama Dibalemi's reign. Based on Ahmad b. Furtu, Muhammad Yanbu and Borno oral sources, Bobboyi believed the Mune represented "a conceptualization of the Islamic political role of the Sayfawa sultans by the 'Ulama, at least from the sixteenth century" (Bobboyi, 88). Besides these aforementioned written sources, abundant Borno oral traditions consulted by Bobboyi stress the central role of the Mune in the fall of Sayfawa rule in Kanem. For example, the Mune commandment to never flee from battle when defeated, as Bobboyi elucidates, informed the custom among the Sayfawa for the ruler to dismount, sit on his shield and say, "Munem Bago." This apparently means "Fleeing is not in the Mune" (Bobboyi, 107). Undoubtedly, the Mune and its commandments were understood in this broadly Islamic ideology of a proper, just ruler.

Additional Borno sources on the Mune were utilized by historian Muhammad Nur Alkali. One of his sources, an unpublished text he entitled The story of the mune written 1185 A.H. (NO, 1771) as a memory of the golden age of the Sayfawa rule, was written by the amir of Alarge, Muhammad b. al-Hajj b. Ali. A translation and commentary by Abdullahi Smith was included in Kyari Tijani's "The Mune in Pre-Colonial Borno." This source includes a list of pledges or dictates the Sayfawa must maintain, which is essentially the same as the Commandments in al-Idara (Alkali, 43-44). Alkali also included material from al-Idara which blamed the Egyptians for influencing Dunama Dibalemi's actions with regard to the Mune: "Thus, Mai Dunoma’s decision to open the Mune was not only seen as a break-away from an established tradition of his ancestors but was also considered a conspiracy against the state by the Egyptians who influenced the Mai into taking this decision" (Alkali, 70). A possible foreign involvement or influence on Dunama Dibalemi was certainly possible. He was likely the ruler of Kanem when Kanemi pilgrims and students began to pay Ibn Rashiq in Cairo to teach at a madrasa, sometime in the 1240s (Levtzion & Hopkins, 353). Furthermore, one mahram said to originate during the reign of Dunama Dibalemi's father designates Dunama Dibalemi as "Al Hajj Dunama ibn Dabale" (Bornu Sahara and Sudan, 20). There are no Egyptian sources to corroborate a pilgrimage undertaken by Dunama Dibalemi, but he likely sponsored the Kanemi students and pilgrims who passed through Cairo in the 1240s and began to study at Madrasat Ibn Rashiq. 

Since contact with Ayyubid Egypt did occur and it entailed Islamic teaching, there may have been some kind of foreign involvement or pressure that influenced Dunama's decision to open the Mune. Alternatively, one wonders if the story of an Egyptian conspiracy here is merely a muddled alternative version of Egyptian involvement in the drowning of Dunama b. Hummay in c. 1140 (Diwan, 69). Unfortunately, there are no Fatimid sources on the alleged pilgrimages of Dunama b. Hummay or any involvement in his death. But since Dunama Dibalemi shared the same name, is it possible the idea of Egyptian involvement arose because of Dunama b. Hummay's death, a death in the sea of Moses which the Kanem ruler could not part? Or was there pressure from Egyptian scholars to end the veneration of the Mune that reached Dunama in Kanem? Alternatively, is the Egyptian involvement related to Ayyubid fears of Kanem's influence in the Fazzan and lands in the east, toward Nubia? One of the Borno sources, written in the late 1700s, merely states, "Some Egyptians who came to him advised him that it would be preferable to open it to find out what it contained" (Tijani, 239). 

Alternatively, given its Judeo-Christian overtones and clear resemblance with the Ark of the Covenant, was there some creative reimagining of Sayf b. Dhi Yazan legends in which he actually took the Ark of the Covenant from Ethiopia? Or was this a reference to the period of Jewish rulers in Himyar? In one of the story cycles of the Sayf legends written in Mamluk Egypt, Sayf was interested in seizing a book on the history of the Nile. Is it possible that Coptic and Islamic legends in Egypt about the Ark of the Covenant being in Ethiopia possibly influenced, even indirectly, the Mune traditions acquiring more overt Biblical characteristics? Unfortunately, the ascent of the Solomonic dynasty in Ethiopia only began in 1270, but the idea of the Christian kingdom as the land of Sheba and its Solomonic connections predate this period. Is it possible that the Mune was creatively reimagining the Ark of the Covenant based on traditions of Sayf b. Dhi Yazan defeating the Abyssinians? Or was this due to the brief period of a Jewish kingdom at Himyar? Either way, it was undoubtedly reimagined with a more Islamic veneer by the 16th century. It nonetheless demonstrates how complex the Mune and its origins were.

With Borno sources emphasizing an Islamic orientation of the Mune and connecting it to an ideology of kingship, what room is left for interpretations of it as a pagan relic or symbol from the pre-Islamic past? Palmer, whose diffusionist imagination often got the better of him, tried to link the Mune to sacra of the Hausa, Kwararafa, and Zaghawa peoples. When informed by a Zaghawa of Wadai that a Koran covered in skins like the Kano dirki was a Mani, and pagan Zaghawa saw the Mani as a ram stored in a cave with sacred objects, Palmer leapt at the opportunity to bring in the Ancient Egyptian god, Aman (Amun, perhaps). Consequently, Dunama Dibalemi's opening the Mune was seen by Palmer as the first truly Islamic ruler of Kanem ending pagan practices (Bornu Sahara and Sudan). However, this view is contradicted by local written sources and oral traditions. In our own feeble attempts at reconstructing pre-Islamic religion in Kanem, we preferred to view the Mune as a type of sacrum from the pre-Islamic period which was adapted after the conversion of the Sayfawa maiwa in the late 11th century. 

Looking at the sources on it again, we find it impossible to answer. Either the Mune was purely inspired and began during the reign of Hummay or the tradition attributing its opening or "cutting" to Dunama Dibalemi is meant metaphorically to refer to the loss of internal unity during and after Dunama Dibalemi's reign. In that sense, he violated one of the central commandments and his successors truly paid the consequences. Yet, the Mune must have also been an actual object at one point if it was carried into battle. Its possible pre-Islamic, Judeo-Christian, and Islamic meanings or origins suggest the need for a closer exploration of Kanem-Borno's intellectual history. Understanding, to whatever extent possible, the connections with the broader Islamic world and perhaps, the Egyptian context in which Kanem pilgrims and students began to travel more frequently in Ayyubid and Mamluk Egypt may provide further clues for the development of the Mune ideology. 

Bibliography

Alkali, Mohammad Nur. 2013. Kanem-Borno under the Sayfawa: A Study of the Origin, Growth, and Collapse of a Dynasty (891-1846) . Nigeria: University of Maiduguri.

Bobboyi, Hamidu. The ’Ulama of Borno : A Study of the Relations between Scholars and State under the Sayfawa, 1470-1808. Dissertation, 1992.

Hopkins, J. F. P., and Nehemia Levtzion (editors). Corpus of Early Arabic Sources for West African History. Princeton, NJ: Markus Wiener Publishers, 2000.

Lange, Dierk. Le Dīwān Des Sultans Du (Kānem-)Bornū: Chronologie Et Histoire D'un Royaume Africain (de La Fin Du Xe Siècle Jusqu'à 1808). Wiesbaden: F. Steiner, 1977.

Palmer, H.R. Sudanese Memoirs: Being Mainly Translations of a Number of Arabic Manuscripts Relating to the Central and Western Sudan. 1st ed., new impression. London: Cass, 1967.

___________. The Bornu Sahara and Sudan. London: J. Murray, 1936.

The Afterlife of Marien

 

Whilst perusing the very helpful tables of Arranz Marquez in Repartimientos y encomiendas en la Isla Española: el repartimiento de Albuquerque de 1514, we came across 5 caciques with "del Marien" in their names. None of them were linked to encomenderos in Puerto Real, the Spanish colonial city founded near the likely site of Marien's capital. Thus, within about 22 years of first meeting Columbus, the population of Marien was severely displaced and likely experienced high amounts of death through disease, forced relocation, disrupted food supply, and forced labor. Guacanagari's people were now spread around in La Concepcion and Bonao. In the latter town, a surprisingly high number of Indians tied to the Marien caciques Torres del Marien (170 indios) and Velazquez del Marien (70) were laboring for Juan de Ampies. In La Concepcion, 3 caciques from Marien were listed: Antonio Escobar del Marien, Barahona del Marien and Cristobal del Marien. The indios linked to them numbered 117. This suggests that by 1514, Marien (presumably its "core" had about 317 indigenous people who had been relocated through the encomienda system. Over half of this group ended up in Bonao. In Puerto Real itself, where it is probably safe to assume much of the indigenous population was from the old cacicazgo of Marien due to the absence of gold mining, it is difficult to trace where the caciques and their communities came from. 

In one case, that of Francisquillo de Bayaha, we can presume he was from the area of modern-day Fort Liberte. The cacique called Mayordomo de Hatiel may have come from a region that appears in the Morales map to be south of the Artibonite and east of its mouth. This area may not have been part of the Marien cacicazgo. According to Bernardo Vega, it likely covered the territory from Borgne to Monte Cristi.It is unlikely for the area south of the Artibonite to have been part of Guacanagari's spheres of influence. In the case of Diego Aynaguana, however, it is somewhat ambiguous. The cacique Diego Aynaguana in Azua may have been relocated there via the encomienda system. Once again, the Morales map provides a clue since it appears to identify a river called Aynagua northeast of Puerto Real. If so, that means at least 349 Indians were forced to relocate from the environs of Marien. 

And of the caciques in Puerto Plata and other regions, a few may have been linked to the period of Guacanagari's rule in the 1490s. One cacique from Marien went by the name Cristobal. Was this possibly in reference to Columbus? Another cacique, Juan de Manuy, was assigned to an encomendero married to a native woman, Gonzalo de Arevalo. We were unable to find out when he came to the island, but if his wife was from this part of the island, he may have used her kinship ties and connections that may have preceded 1492 and the calamities of the colonial conquest. Furthermore, the one cacique assigned to a Puerto Real encomendero with more than 100 Indians was a man named Fernando Guanabax. We know from Peguero and Oviedo that a relative of Guacanagari traveled to Spain with Columbus on his first voyage. He was baptized there and took the name Fernando de Aragon. Is there any chance Fernando Guanabax was the same man? We admit this is pure speculation and quite unlikely, but he was the only cacique with more than 100 followers in the Puerto Real area.

As for the area around Lares de Guahaba and Haiti's northwest, we are unsure. Las Casas seemed to exclude Guahaba and Amaguey (near modern Gros Morne?) from Guacanagari's Marien. Charlevoix, writing in the 18th century, believed Marien covered all of the north coast from Cap St. Nicolas (Mole St. Nicolas) to Monte Cristi, as well as a part of the northern Vegal Real. Moreau de Saint-Mery echoed that sentiment, including Port de Paix as once in the domain of Guacanagari. Indeed, he even believed the Artibonite was the southern border for Marien, implying Guahaba would have fallen under Guacanagari's control or influence. In the next century, Haitian historian Emile Nau also wrote of Marien including Guahaba and the western limits of the Artibonite (Nau, 36). Perhaps even more boldly, the Haitian author Gilbert Valme added Tortuga to Guacanagari's territor (Valme, 229). Interestingly, the remaining indigenes of Tortuga were assigned to an encomendero based at Puerto Plata in c.1514. In terms of other modern scholars, Deagan, the archaeologist who has presented the best case for identifying En Bas Saline as Guacanagari's capital, similarly included Guahaba in his land (Deagan, 240). 

Until scholars uncover new sources, the mystery of Marien's end will continue. Scholars have different theories on the death of Guacanagari, for example. It would appear that he was likely dead within 10 years after meeting Columbus. And while his capital was likely occupied until the 1520s, it too was eventually abandoned. With about 317 Indians from Marien serving encomienda holders on the other side of the island in 1514, one can imagine high mortality rates and labor exploitation wiped out much of the remaining population. Even Puerto Real itself was later disbanded. But if 317 Indians from Marien were enumerated in 1514, scholars might be able to reach more accurate population estimates of the region's population in 1492. To what extent Guacanagari was able to control other provinces is up for debate, but the large plaza and public architecture at his capital suggest he was not such a minor or subordinate cacique after all. Indeed, Las Casas personally claimed to have met several of Guacanagari's vassals who were of high standing, presumably meaning caciques and nitainos who occupied more than the region near En Bas Saline. 

Les coutoumes familiares au Kanem

 

Alifa Zezerti

Les coutumes familiales au Kanem by Robert Bouillé is a dated colonial-era study of kinship and social organization in Kanem. Sometimes repetitive, the author focuses on the Kanembu, Buduma,  Fulani, Arab, and Tubu groups in Kanem. Each are distinct but similar, especially in terms of a patriarchal family structure in which wives and daughters were treated unequally. Nonetheless, the author believed that the ethnic diversity in Kanem and inter-ethnic antagonisms made French colonial rule more stable. However, as a strong proponent of rational and stable colonial administration, customary law and practices among Kanem's population required a gradual approach for reforming its population. This meant that slavery, or descendants of slaves, were still very much a part of communities while the Haddad remained an outsider group. Sometimes blood vengeance was still carried out by Tubu or Arab populations. However, with the changes introduced by colonial rule, youths were beginning to show more independence from patriarchal authority while some married women became somewhat more autonomous. Nonetheless, the portrait of the various peoples of Kanem is probably at least partially accurate for how the peoples of the region organized their communities in the 1800s and even earlier, in some instances.

In terms of the alifa based on Mao, Les coutumes familiales au Kanem is not the most detailed. Besides recounting how the French first signed a treaty with the alifa and the pacification of the province, hints of its political and economic structure are largely subdued. The current leader at Mao, Zezerti, was said to be from the Zegbada family. They were supposedly part of the Samarous tribe of its founder's name. His family group was closely aligned with the Mustafa family of Zegbadas who had apparently intermarried with them for around 2 centuries. Zezerti's mother was supposedly from this Mustafa family. Nonetheless, when comparing the genealogical information of the alifas from Landeroin's time to Bouillé, the former listed a "jagata Moustapha" who was the father of an alifa who must have resigned in the early 1800s, Ahmadou Kalli. However, there was an earlier alifa, Moutta Kinguimi, whose "proper" name may have been Moustapha. Is it possible that Zezerti and the Mustapha family represented one lineage group which only effectively occupied the throne in the 19th century, when conflicts between Waday and Borno over control of Kanem (and the Alwad Sulayman) rapidly transformed the political landscape of Kanem? Sadly, Landeroin's Notice historique has little to say about the alifas who reigned before the 19th century. A similar question might be raised about the possible religious status and authority of the alifas before the 20th century. Since Zezerti's grandfather had performed the pilgrimage to Mecca and was renowned for his baraka, Bouillé may have retroactively sought to elucidate this alleged religious/spiritual authority of the dynasty before Zezerti's grandfather in its origin. Intriguinly, Landeroin recorded that the father of Dala Afouno, the first alifa of Kanem, was a Mallam of Magoumi descent. Perhaps descent from an illustrious Islamic scholar or religious leader was part of the dynasty's legitimacy since its inception. 

In terms of Kanem before the fall of the Sayfawa, there are a number of possible hints to the influence of Kanuri groups who came to Kanem after the fall of the Bulala. For instance, the alifas appear to have set up a court with officials often using titles of Borno origin (some undoubtedly began when the Sayfawa ruled in Kanem). Their court also used a system of "fiefs" for some dignitaries and officials and relied on tribute of various types. During the period of Bornoan suzerainty, Kanem also had an institution called the Bit el mal, a sort of public fund that produced food for the poor, gifts to mallams, aided foreigners, and paid masons for building or maintaining mosques. Furthermore, a type of mutual aid practiced by farmers in Kanem, the debdou custom, allowed for Kanembus experiencing misfortune to receive presents of animals, clothes, grain, or money to help. The custom also featured dancing and drums. Whether or not this practice of mutual aid predated the period of the alifas in Mao is unclear, but Bouillé emphasized a Borno origin. 

It would be worthwhile to compare the description of Kanembu social and kinship patterns with those of Borno during the same time (or earlier). It may help establish certain patterns or trends which could have begun in Kanem during the medieval period and were maintained by the Kanuri in Borno. Similarly, it may help elucidate patterns of social change in Kanem under the Bulala and alifa rulers. Naturally, Kanem's landscape differed quite significantly from that of Borno and the region's growing aridity led to some parts being occupied mostly by nomadic groups. Nonetheless, a close examination of family structure, marital patterns, customary law, and land tenure systems could provide possible clues for earlier centuries in the annals of Kanem and Borno. For similar reasons, determining the origin of the Haddad and the interactions between Kanembu and Buduma populations may also shed light on how some aspects of the history of both regions diverged.