CHAPTER II.

_MORE LIGHT: THE ARAB PERIOD._

For many centuries but little was added to the knowledge of Africa

acquired by the early classical writers. Carthage fell from its high

estate, and on its ruins Rome, with boundless ambition and seemingly

boundless powers of attainment, built for itself a new and equally

magnificent African Empire. But where man could not stay the advancing

tide, Nature set bounds to the force of Roman arms, and at the borders

of the desert mutely said, “Thus far shalt thou go, and no further.”

The Roman power rose to the zenith of its glory, and still the desert

remained uncrossed; it dwindled towards its fall, and then its days

of geographical conquest were over. In Northern Africa, as elsewhere,

the mythological gave place to the Christian era, and the influence

of the new religion spread apparently to the remotest desert tribes.

It was not, however, fated to be permanent. In the seventh century a

new prophet had risen in the Sacred East, and the seeds of a mighty

revolution were germinating in the deserts of Arabia. The boundaries

of its parent country soon proved too small for the astonishing

vitalities and ardent missionary enterprise of the new faith--the

faith of Islam. Bursting out, it pushed with incredible rapidity along

the north of Africa, overwhelming Paganism and Christianity alike

in its irresistible course, till reaching the Atlantic it turned

to north and south in search of new fields to conquer for God. The

natural difficulties which had stopped the southern progress of the

Carthaginians and the Romans formed no barrier to a people born in a

desert. In the plateau lands of the Berber tribes the Arabs were at

home. Winged with a fiery enthusiasm which nothing could withstand,

and inspired by a hope of heaven which nothing could shake, they swept

from district to district, from tribe to tribe, everywhere carrying the

blazing torch of Islam, everywhere striking fire from the roving people

with whom they came in contact, till from every Saharan oasis there was

heard the common cry, “There is no God but the one God.” In the new

conflagration Christian symbols and Pagan idols alike disappeared in

one fell holocaust.

To a race so educated and nurtured, so steeped in fiery ardour and

unquenchable faith, and so imbued with the paramount importance of

their mission--provided, moreover, as regards the practical part

of their work, with the drought-enduring camel, hitherto unknown

in Africa--the so-called impassable desert was no barrier to the

performance of the task divinely set them. Only for him who turned back

did hell yawn. For him who went forward it might be death, but it was

death with Paradise gained.

In this spirit the terrors of the Sahara were faced, and faced only to

be conquered; and ere the ninth century gave place to the tenth, the

land of the negroes was reached, and the forces of Islam set themselves

in array against those of heathendom. For the first time the Niger

basin was now brought into direct relation with Northern Africa. The

actual time when this was accomplished is still a matter of some doubt,

though the statement is quoted by Barth that within less than a hundred

years of the commencement of the Mohammedan era, schools and mosques

were established in the negro kingdom of Ghana or Ghanata, to the west

of Timbuktu. More incontestable is the statement of the Arab writer,

Ebn Khaldun (A.D. 1380), that trading relations existed about 280 A.H.

or 893 A.D. between the Upper Niger and Northern Africa. When these

were first established we are not informed.

The vital forces which had found no barrier in the fierce nomads and

physical difficulties of the Sahara, and had carried the disciples of

Mohammed to the borders of the Sudan, met a check to their sweeping

progress where one would have least expected it. Half the secret of

the success of Islam had been that principle in the creed which was

calculated to attract and inflame the ardent imaginations and easily

excited temperaments of the Berber tribes of the north. With these

Mohammedanism required but little aid from fire and sword for the

spread of its tenets. It had but to be preached to be believed, making

every hearer not only a convert but a missionary aflame with enthusiasm

for the cause of God and Mohammed. Such, however, was not the case when

Islam came face to face with the undeveloped lethargic minds of the

barbarous blacks of the Sudan. The intellect of the negro had to be

prepared for the reception of the new spiritual doctrines.

For a time a hard and fast line existed between Islam and Heathendom

more or less closely coinciding with that drawn between Berber and

Negro, Sahara and Sudan.

Only for a time, however. Though the new religious force could sweep

on no longer in an irresistible, all-embracing tide, it was not to

be prevented from gradually working its way into the sodden mass of

Paganism. Along the whole line of opposing forces from Senegambia

to Lake Chad, Mohammedan missionaries penetrated, not with fire and

sword and all the horrors of brute force, but armed with the spiritual

weapons of faith, hope, and ardent enthusiasm. Under their fostering

care schools and mosques arose, around which converts gathered in

ever-increasing numbers, until at length every region had its leavening

germs, and awaited but the proper moment and the inspired leader to

raise the watchword of Islam, and once more sweep onward with all the

accumulated force of the dammed back torrent.

Within a short time of each other two such leaders appeared at opposite

points of the Niger basin. In the west, near the great bend of the

Niger, a king of Songhay embraced Islam about the year 1000, while near

the close of the same century a king of Bornu followed his example.[1]

From those dates a new and more promising era commenced for the Central

and Western Sudan. Under the fostering care and impulse of the new

religion these backward regions commenced an upward progress. A new

and powerful bond drew the scattered congeries of tribes together

and welded them into powerful communities. Their moral and spiritual

well-being increased by leaps and bounds, and their political and

social life took an altogether higher level. The arts and industries of

the North speedily became established among them, and with them came

the love of decent dress, of cleanliness, of more orderly conduct.

Whatever might be said of Mohammedanism in its final influence, there

could be no question but that it had the amount of good in it necessary

to raise a barbarous people to a higher level of civilisation. There

was an adaptability and a simplicity about it well suited to the

comprehension of untutored minds, and in that lay the secret of a

success such as has never since been even distantly approached by any

other propagandist religion in Africa.

To the rulers of Songhay and Bornu the watchword of Islam, “There

is no God but the one God,” soon became a war-cry destined to be

irresistible in its magic influence. Armed with the new spiritual

force these hitherto barbarous kingdoms rose to extraordinary heights

of power. Songhay gradually spread its influence over all the upper

reaches of the Niger till it had absorbed the old kingdoms of Ghanata,

to the north of the Niger, and Melli, to the south. With the political

influences of Songhay went the religious forces at its back. At times

there were checks to its military power, but only when the religious

enthusiasm and missionary ardour of its rulers temporarily sank and

were outstripped by the greater zeal of neighbouring princes. With

these exceptions, the history of Songhay was that of general progress,

political, social, and commercial. The kingdom reached the zenith of

its power at the beginning of the sixteenth century under a powerful

negro king named Hadj Mohammed Askia, whose rule extended from the

centre of the present empire of Sokoto to the borders of the Atlantic,

a distance from east to west of 1500 miles, and from Mosi in the south

as far as the oasis of Tawat in the north, _i.e._, something over 1000

miles.[2]

Askia was no mere warrior anxious for his own aggrandisement. As was

the case with all the great Sudanese rulers of those early days, he

was noted for his ardent faith as well as for his love of justice and

clemency, so that, as his historian, Ahmed Baba of Timbuktu, wrote of

him, “God made use of his services in order to save the true believers

(in Negroland) from their sufferings and calamities.” He built mosques

and schools, and did everything in his power to encourage learning;

and not unmindful of the material prosperity of his people, encouraged

merchants from all parts of the Sudan, the Sahara, and North Africa.

Thus not only was he loved and revered by his subjects, but his fame

extended to the most distant countries.

Unhappily the magnificent empire thus founded had not the elements

of stability. There was too much of the one man power, with no firm

governmental foundations apart from the ruler. In consequence, the

history of Songhay was one of varying fortunes. Old kingdoms such as

Melli temporarily regained their independence, distant provinces were

continually breaking loose, and there were constant wars of succession

and military revolts. But though often scotched it was never killed,

till an altogether new enemy appeared in the person of Mulai Hamed,

Sultan of Morocco, before whose musketeers it was doomed to become

extinct as an independent kingdom. This happened in 1591, in the reign

of Askia Ishak. Ahmed Baba, the native historian, who lived at the

time, and was himself not only a material sufferer, but a prisoner

carried off to Morocco, said of this terrible disaster: “Thus this

Mahalla (or expedition) at that period found in Sudan (Songhay) one of

those countries of the earth which are most favoured with comfort,

plenty, peace, and prosperity everywhere; such was the working of the

government of the Emir el Mumenin, Askia el Hadj Mohammed ben Abu Bakr,

in consequence of his justice and the power of his royal command, which

took full and peremptory effect, not only in his capital (Gogo), but in

all the districts of his whole empire, from the province of Dendi to

the frontier of Morocco, and from the territory of Bennendugu (to the

south of Jinni) as far as Zeghaza and Tawat. But in a moment all was

changed, and peaceful repose was succeeded by a constant state of fear,

comfort and security by troubles and suffering; ruin and misfortune

took the place of prosperity, and people began everywhere to fight

against each other, and property and life became exposed to constant

danger; and this ruin began, spread, increased, and at length prevailed

throughout the whole region.”[3] If it be remembered that this was

written in Arabic by a Niger native at the end of the sixteenth or

beginning of the seventeenth centuries about a negro sultan ruling over

a kingdom partly negro and partly Berber, the wonder of it cannot but

strike the thoughtful mind.

But in the Niger basin Songhay was not the only centre of marvellous

political and social development under the influence of Mohammedanism.

Bornu was in every sense its rival. We have already seen that towards

the close of the eleventh century the king of Bornu (Dunama ben Humé)

had embraced Islam. The result of the union of material power with

spiritual inspiration was soon made manifest, for before Ben Humé died

he had founded a vigorous empire whose influence was felt as far as

Egypt. It was not, however, till the middle of the thirteenth century

that Bornu rose to its greatest power and the zenith of its glory under

the able rule of one Dibalami Dunama Selmami. At that time Bornu,

or, as it was sometimes called, Kameni (?), which was then the seat

of government, extended from the Nile to the Niger, and from Mabina

(Adamawa?) in the south to Wadan in the north, according to Imam Ahmed

(1571-1603), the native historian of Bornu, as Ahmed Baba had been

that of Songhay. But Dunama did not only increase the material power

of Bornu. Like Askia of Songhay, he encouraged religion, so that “the

true faith in his time was largely disseminated,” according to Ebn Said

(1282), an Arab writer.

After Dunama’s death troublesome times fell upon the empire, and a long

period of civil wars and disastrous expeditions followed. Brighter

times came back with the ascent of Ali (1472) to the throne, and

once more Bornu regained its former grandeur. It is clear that Ali’s

kingdom extended far to the west of the Niger, and became known to the

Portuguese, who as far back as 1489 show Bernu or Bornu on their maps.

Under the two succeeding reigns of Edris and Mohammed, Bornu still

further added to its importance, and had relations with the northern

sultans of Tripoli.

The most remarkable, however, of all the Bornu rulers seems to have

been Edris Alawoma (1571-1603), who had the advantage of having a

contemporary biographer in the person of Imam Ahmed. This prince

seems not only to have been an enterprising and able warrior, but

was distinguished alike for mildness and justice, and for far-seeing

statesmanship. Under him the empire grew to enormous proportions, and

included almost the whole of the Central and much of the Western

Sudan. At the same time the country became more prosperous, the wealth

of the towns increased, and the Mohammedan religion and education

spread widely and rapidly.

Happily Bornu was established on a more stable basis than Songhay. It

had more cohesion in its various elements, and was less dependent on

the warlike character of its rulers to keep it from falling to pieces.

Its princes also seem to have been of a better and more liberal-minded

stock. We even gather from the native chronicles that they were

“learned, liberal towards the Ilama, prodigal dispensers of alms,

friends of science and religion, gracious and compassionate towards

the poor.” Hence it was that while Songhay and other states rose and

fell, Bornu retained its position and independence. In the beginning of

this century it experienced a temporary eclipse before the conquering

arms of the Fillani in their mission of religious regeneration, but

only to emerge again as vigorous as ever, though now restricted in its

political influence to Bornu proper and the immediate neighbourhood of

Lake Chad.

But while Songhay and Bornu were for centuries working out their

remarkable political, religious, social, and commercial development,

they were, as we have already pointed out, by no means shut off from

intercourse with the outside world. The thirst for the slaves of Bornu

and for the gold of Melli and the Upper Niger was almost as potent a

force with the later generations of Arabs as was religious zeal among

their ancestors. For the one as for the other all the terrors of the

desert route were braved, and constant communication kept up with the

Sudan. At first Egypt seems to have been the first point of departure

of the Sudanese caravan, one route passing westward to Songhay and the

region of the Upper Niger, while another diverged from it, and passed

south to the Chad basin. In later times Egypt gave place to Tripoli as

the starting-point, though practically the same routes were utilised to

reach the same goals. At an early period also the most dangerous part

of the whole Sahara, that region, namely, lying between the Upper Niger

and Morocco, was traversed by indefatigable Moorish traders for the

sake of its slaves and gold. The terminus of their route was at first

considerably to the west of Timbuktu, at a place called Biru or Walata,

where, indeed, nearly all the western trans-Saharan traffic converged

in the earlier days of commercial intercourse.

Towards the end of the eleventh century Timbuktu was founded as a

trading station by the Tuaregs of the Sahara, but it was not until it

fell into the hands of a powerful king of Melli some two centuries

later that it became a place of some importance. At once it developed

into an international market of the first rank, where merchants from

Egypt, Tripoli, Morocco, the Saharan oases, and the Sudan met to

exchange their various articles of barter.

At no time was Timbuktu the capital of a great kingdom. Its greatness

solely depended upon its trade, and its convenience as a collecting

and dispersing centre. That it should have become so well known above

all the places of the Sudan is easily understood if it be remembered

that it was the goal for which all the merchants of Northern Africa

aimed. Politically, Timbuktu was thus raised to a position of undue

importance, though commercially, as the merchant capital, it could not

be overrated.

With the rise of the Songhay power Timbuktu became subject to that

kingdom. With the fall of the former it assumed a measure of political

importance as the centre of Moorish power, till on the division from

Morocco it resumed its old status as nothing more nor less than a

trading centre, a position it has retained to this day.

Among a people of such commercial activity and enterprise as the Arabs

of Morocco, Tripoli, and Egypt, naturally there were not awanting

numbers of students eager to collect and collate information regarding

the inland countries to which their merchants travelled. Among the host

of historians and geographers who supply us with interesting facts, we

may mention El Bekri, El Edrisi (1153), Ebn Said (1282), Ebn Khaldun

(1382), and Makrizi (1400).

But the Arabs had their explorers as well as their writers. Among these

two stand out with marked prominence, viz., Ebn Batuta (1353), and Leo

Africanus (1528). Ebn Batuta, who seems to have been devoured with a

thirst for travel, and had visited almost all the countries of the then

known world, commenced his Central African explorations from Morocco,

and crossed the desert to Walata, the frontier province of Melli,

situated not far from the Niger. From Walata he crossed the Niger to

the capital of the kingdom, and thence by land proceeded to Timbuktu.

From Kabara, the “port” of Timbuktu, he sailed down the Niger to Gogo,

the capital of Songhay, and thence turned northward again across the

desert by way of the oasis of Tawat to Morocco.

The travels of Leo Africanus were even more extensive, for he travelled

over the whole of the Central and Western Sudan. Considering that he

wrote an account of his travels from memory many years after, the

events recorded, and the accuracy and amount of varied information

he gives regarding the countries he visited, are astonishing. He

describes not only the kingdoms of Melli, Songhay, and Bornu, but also

the countries that lie between, Gober, Katsena, Kano, and Agades, of

all of which he has something important to say. Even when he seems to

draw most upon our credulity he is generally quite correct, as for

instance when he describes the people of one district kindling fires

at night under their bedsteads to keep themselves warm. To the truth

of this statement the writer of these lines can testify from personal

observation, the precaution being adopted, however, not to ward off

external cold, but that of ague, a disease to which many places on the

Niger are subject at certain times of the year.

It is not our intention to enter into the vexed question of what

the Arab writers and travellers knew regarding the course and final

destination of the Niger. Those of them who travelled did not do so as

geographers, and though they noted accurately enough what they did see,

they troubled themselves very little with what they did not see, and

held aloof from inquiries of a purely speculative character. M‘Queen[4]

has made it clear, however, that many of them were aware that the Nile

and the Niger were distinct, and that the general tendency of Arab

opinion was to make the latter river fall into the Atlantic.

Much of the confusion as to what the Arabs did know or believe arose

largely from the ignorance of European geographers in confounding the

western kingdom of Ghana with the central one of Kano, and of the town

of Kugha, near the Upper Niger, with that of Kuka in Bornu. With the

new light thrown upon the history and geography of the Niger basin, we

can now see that the Arab writers had a wonderfully accurate conception

of the political and physical characteristics of the region in

question. To them is due not only the honour of having raised the veil

which shrouded the Sudan, and spread the seeds of civilisation, which

have flourished so remarkably, but also of disseminating a knowledge of

that region among western nations--a knowledge destined, as we shall

see, to be caught up and carried to great ends with European vigour and

scientific accuracy.

Mungo Park and the Niger · 第 2 / 31 章