The language
that I ‘speak’ (read: stumble through) and am always learning here in Senegal
is called Jaxanké, (sometimes transcribed as Diahanké, Jaxanke, and Diaxango). It is the same language as Malinké—we have the same
dictionary, took the same language classes during PST—except not quite, as
Malinké and Jaxanké are separate ethnic groups. For anyone interested, the
following is a bit on how this ethno linguistic group fits into the
socio-ethnic history and geography of Western Africa.
Before arriving
in Senegal, I assumed that all PC volunteers here learned Wolof. This
is the common language for the majority of the country, a lingua franca.
In fact, the Peace Corps teaches volunteers a handful of what we call ‘local languages,’ in order to match, to some extent, Senegal’s linguistic diversity.
In fact, the Peace Corps teaches volunteers a handful of what we call ‘local languages,’ in order to match, to some extent, Senegal’s linguistic diversity.
Wolofs
are about 43% of the population of Senegal. They are followed by Pulaars of
various stripes, 24% (or perhaps more according to many estimates), Serers,
15%, Diolas, at about 5%, Mandés of many different types are somewhere around
4%, and a whole cocktail of various minorities make up the last 2%.[1] (The Wikipedia page
doesn’t add up to 100% either)
 |
| He who fights with monsters should look to it that he himself does not become a monster. And when you gaze long into an abyss the abyss also gazes into you. |
Wolof is the lingua franca in Senegal for a couple
reasons. First, since the Wolofs comprise almost half of the population of
Senegal. Thus they form a plurality, which gives them an obvious head start as cultural
hegemons.
Secondly, they are more concentrated in cities than other groups, especially the cities in the western 1/3rd of the country, where 5/6ths of the country’s population resides. The Wolofs have capitalized on their position as well connected urbanites to dominate most of the business and industry in the country.
Secondly, they are more concentrated in cities than other groups, especially the cities in the western 1/3rd of the country, where 5/6ths of the country’s population resides. The Wolofs have capitalized on their position as well connected urbanites to dominate most of the business and industry in the country.
Economic
preeminence tends to lead to cultural and linguistic hegemony. This is
happening in Kédougou, a land that has long been Malinké/Jaxanké and Pulaar. An
example of this is amongst the employees of foreign gold-mining companies here
in Kedougou. These companies establish offices in Dakar, and subcontract
security and labor to Wolof companies also based in Dakar, whose Wolof
employees have thus come flooding into Kédougou.
Another Wolof
economic foothold in Kédougou, and across the entire country is the public
transportation system. This is comprised of a network of ‘garages’ where one
can pay for a spot in a buses, mini-buses, or station-wagons that run to other
garages in cities all over the country. The Mouride Brotherhood, which is a
Wolof dominated religious group, has a total monopoly on this transportation
network, and no matter where you are going to or from, your driver is
guaranteed to be Wolof.
Thus, due in
large part to higher rates of urbanization, and a dominant economic position, Wolofs
have a more homogenous and widespread cultural identity than any other ethnic
group in Senegal. 'Wolof culture,' many would argue, has come to be considered
the national culture of Senegal. This is known as the ‘Wolofisation’ of
Senegal, and some people are starting to complain about it.
The next biggest
ethno linguistic/cultural group in Senegal is Pulaar.[2] This is probably the
biggest ethno linguistic group in West Africa. In Senegal, they come in three flavors;
The Pulaar de Nords are concentrated along the Senegal River valley in the
north; The Fula Kunda, also known as Fouladou, pretty much all live in the
Casamance, south of The Gambia; And the Pula Futa, emanate from the Guinean
Plateau into Kedougou and parts of Kolda.
The Pulaars are
a fascinating people, much too fascinating to attempt to discuss in any great
length right here. They extend throughout the Sahelian region of Africa from
Senegal to Ethiopia, and south through Guinea into Liberia
and Sierra Leone. They originated as a
nomadic herding people, and have historically played a large part in bridging
the Sahara desert, centuries before the arrival of Europeans, trading
extensively with Berbers and Arabs in the north, and dozens of different groups
in the south. Historically, because of their disparate nomadic lifestyle, the
Pulaars formed only very loose political association. Before the coming of
Islam, Pulaar states, beyond regional tribute based kingdoms were largely
unknown.
 |
| We cannot help but see Socrates as the turning-point, the vortex of world history. |
The Pulaar people are believed to have originated in what is
now northern Senegal/ Southern Mauritania. Over hundreds of years they came to
inhabit the vast territory of the Sahel through a series of migrations. These migrations
took various forms. Generally they were slow, nomadic drifts into empty spaces
in search of new pasturelands.
There have also been instances of more
intentional Pulaar migrations, specifically via what are known as the ‘Pulaar
Jihads’. However, it is wrong to consider the ‘Pulaar Jihads’ to somehow be a
distinctive, congruous event. They were entirely multifarious, and connected
only loosely if at all, with highly variable, inconsistent levels of violence,
tactics, and motivation.
Pulaar
migrations have continued well into modern times, though the Jihaads are long
since over. One of the most significant modern movements of Pulaar people took
place throughout the 60s, 70s and 80s after Ahmed Sékou Touré took power in
Conakry.
Touré was the
only leader in Africa to deny France’s invitation to join the Communité Français. In doing this he
seemed to represent a real hope for a truly independent post-colonial African
leader, one who had the courage to truely stand up to former colonial powers.
His early rhetoric in the 1960s was Marxist-utopian, and deeply inspired by the
socialist hopes of the time. His writings are still standard in any study of
Marxism in Africa.
Regrettably, the
promise of a bright post-independence Guinea was not to last. It was torn apart
when Touré began exploiting ethnic divides in order to maintain power. This was
a dangerous thing to do in a deeply fractured, desperately poor, and
economically dysfunctional post-colonial state. To make a long story short,
Touré is ethnically Mandé, which is another broad ethno linguistic group (we
will talk about them soon). The Mandés make up about 35% of the population of
Guinea, while Pulaars make up 45%. As post-independence hopes of prosperity
rapidly began to disintegrate, for myriad reasons, such as a lack of functional
institutions or infrastructure whatsoever, Touré quickly began to militarize
the state apparatus.
 |
| Mathematics would certainly have not come into existence if one had known from the beginning that there was in nature no exactly straight line, no actual circle, no absolute magnitude. |
Because his
state was failing Touré was quickly challenged politically by the Front de
Libération Nationale de Guinea (FLNG), an opposition party. It just so happens
that many prominent figures in the FLNG were Pulaars. Touré then decided that
there was a Pulaar plot to assassinate or overthrow him, and he responded in
increasingly erratic and vicious ways. His military forces began rounding up
anyone suspected of being a dissident, especially Pulaars, and throwing them
into, (no typo here) concentration camps.
The most
notorious of these was Camp Boiro, located on an island near the capital,
Conakry. Estimates of the total number of people killed by Tourés regime are
hard to establish, but an organization called “Children of the Victims of Boiro
Camp” has leveled an estimate of 50,000.
Pulaars all over
the country were targeted in various forms by Touré’s policies of political
paranoia, and thousands fled into Senegal, a more stable nation. Precise, or
even semi-precise numbers of those who fled will never be known, for these
migrations were both informal and illegal, and often motivated by factors other
than the violence against Pulaars in Guinea. What we do know is that it made the
region of Kédougou majority Pulaar, although it was probably primarily Mandé
speaking as recently as 1960. Many of the Pulaar villages in Kedougou are named
after villages in Guinea, having been founded by fleeing/migrating residents of
the latter.
The Serers (15%
of the population of Senegal) are concentrated along along the coast from the
region of Dakar south, into The Gambia, and northern Ziganchor. The Serer
language is unique; it is not closely related to any other languages. These
coastal fishing people are said to be the first people of modern Senegal,
perhaps even sub-Saharan Africa, to have extensive contact with Europeans.
This initial
prolonged contact between the Serers and Europeans (mostly Portuguese) took place
very early-- the late 1400’s-- so early, in fact, that the Serers had not yet
been converted in any significant proportion to Islam. They were therefore
among Africa's first Christian converts, and continue to have a higher
proportion of Christians than most of Senegal’s ethnic groups.
These unique geographic and cultural
circumstances have made the Serers disproportionately influential in the
political affairs of the country. During the colonial era the French utilized religious
cleavage and favored Christian Serers as colonial bureaucrats. The Serers therefore
gained access earlier, and in greater numbers to the institutions that the
Europeans brought with them, like education. It is no surprise then that the
first president, the poet and intellectual Leopold Sedar Senghor, was a
Christian Serer[3].
Many people maintain that to this day the Serers still enjoy much higher rates
of governmental representation than other groups.
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| Free will without fate is no more conceivable than spirit without matter, good without evil. |
So I learned
much of this before the language
assignments came. I thought I was pretty hip to the linguistic situation in
Senegal. Then when languages were announced during Pre-Service Training, I was
assigned ‘Jaxanké.’ I did not know what that was! Imagine, being told that you
are going to learn and live in a language that you did not know existed. I had
a million questions, and slowly I have been able to answer many of them.
Jaxanké is a minority language in Senegal,
spoken exclusively in the south eastern, regions of the country. It is probably
the least widely spoken of all 7 languages taught by Peace Corps Senegal.
However, Jaxanké
is part of the Mandé language family, which is one of the largest, most diverse
ethno linguistic groups in West Africa. The Mandé family includes dozens of different
individual languages that stretch across West Africa. [4] In Senegal alone, the
Mandé family is represented by Mandinka, Bambara, Jalonké, Soninké, Malinké,
Dyula and others.[5]
[6] However, only a fraction
of each of these groups live in Senegal, which is why, despite being a very
large ethnic group, Mandés only comprise about 4% of the population of Senegal
(according to Wikipedia).
The Mandé ethnic
group originated in what is now southwestern Mali. The Mandé people emanated
from this heartland in a number of ways, most significantly through the rise of
the Malian Empire.
The story of the
founding of the Malian empire is told in the tale of Sundiata. This tale was
passed down from generation to generation by the story-telling musician class;
griots, or in Jaxanké, Jali. It is still a widely known tale that almost any
Mandé can tell you something about. It is considered ‘semi-historical’ by
academics, who have reproduced the epic in various published forms, which is
how I came to know it. I hope, someday, to hear the story straight from the mouth
of a griot, accompanied by music. (Unfortunately in my small village there is
no Jali)
Sundiata Keita
amassed a great army and unified various West African Kingdoms into what was
thus known as the Malian Empire, said to have been founded in 1230. It grew
steadily for the first one hundred years of its existence, then declined and
fractured slowly until it finally ceased to exist in 1600.
 |
| The empire at its greatest extent, circa ~1300. |
The Malian
Empire reached its greatest height under Emperor Mansa Musa, (Mansa actually
means King, so ‘Emporer Mansa Musa’ is a little redundant) who came to power in
1280. Musa was an exceptional fellow, and he came to power at an exceptional
time of an extremely wealthy, prosperous empire. He was also very ambitious,
and a competent, strong willed ruler. He fostered and expanded the trade of his
empire to the point where he came to control approximately one half of the worldwide trade in gold and salt.
It is stated by
many sources that Mansa Musa was the richest person to have ever lived.
Wait. What?
It is obviously
very difficult to compare wealth through different historical ages. However, if
you take the most simple, straightforward and oldest measure of wealth; amount
of gold one owns, Musa had more wealth, plain and simple, than anyone else. Ever.
He is best known
for his pilgrimage to Mecca, a voyage whose extravagance may have no historical
analog. He embarked with 60,000 people, including 12,000 slaves who each carried a four-pound bar of gold.
 |
| Art is the supreme task and the truly metaphysical activity in this life |
Every Friday,
rather than simply stopping for a day of rest and prayer, he actually funded
the construction of a mosque. He gave away small pouches of gold dust to
beggars in Cairo, In fact, Musa spent and gave away so much gold throughout the
trip that the world wide price of gold plummeted, effectively destroying
economies throughout the middle east and north Africa. The records of merchants
and historians across the Mediterranean and Middle Eastern remark on this
precipitous decline in gold prices. It is speculated, by some that he may have
‘inadvertently funded the Italian Renaissance,’ as Genoan and Venician traders
bought the metal at cost and brought it back to north Italy.
The Malian
Empire reached reached all the way to the Atlantic Ocean (modern day coast of
Senegal) long before Musa came to power, under the leadership of Abubakari II.
This guy decided that he wanted to know what lay beyond this great ocean.
An
Egyptian scholar of the day, Al-Umari once asked Mansa Musa about this. The great
leader responded;
The ruler who preceded me did not believe that
it was impossible to reach the extremity of the ocean that encircles the earth
(the Atlantic Ocean). He wanted to reach that (end) and was determined to
pursue his plan. So he equipped two hundred boats full of men, and many others
full of gold, water and provisions sufficient for several years. He ordered the
captain not to return until they had reached the other end of the ocean, or
until he had exhausted the provisions and water. So they set out on their
journey. They were absent for a long period, and, at last just one boat
returned. When questioned the captain replied: 'O Prince, we navigated for a
long period, until we saw in the midst of the ocean a great river which flowing
massively. My boat was the last one; others were ahead of me, and they were
drowned in the great whirlpool and never came out again. I sailed back to
escape this current.' But the Sultan would not believe him. He ordered two
thousand boats to be equipped for him and his men, and one thousand more for
water and provisions. Then he conferred the regency on me for the term of his
absence, and departed with his men, never to return nor to give a sign of life.
—Mansa Musa (From Wikipedia)
How interesting.
So, over the
years, the Malian empire did all of the things that empires usually do. It
expanded with lofty ambition, through both war and trade, and it spread its
language, culture, religion, and people throughout its territory. This is a
large part of how Mandé speaking people came to cover the entire area of the
empire, which began a steady decline shortly after Musa’s extravagant reign.
Even in those
days, ‘Mandé’ was a very diverse ethno linguistic group. Some Mandé languages
were mutually intelligible, and some were not, and many distinct identities
within this group emerged even before the empire spread the Mandé diaspora all
over West Africa.
 |
| This map should help confuse you |
The Soninké
(alternatively called Sarakolé), shown on the map, were a distinct Mandé group
before the Malian Empire came to be. Out of the Soninké ethnic
group, a caste of religious elites arose, Islamic clerics, who soon began to
establish for themselves a distinct identity, living in ‘religion and tillage.’[7] These people were some of the very earliest Muslims in West
Africa, and trace their lineage to Uqbah b. Nafi,
an Arab who was “chosen by Allah to conquer Ifriqya as far as Ghana.”[8]
These were the Jaxankés.
In
the 12th or 13th century a man named al-Hajj Salim Suware led the Jaxankés south and west from Soninké
lands into the Futa Jallon[9]
(Present day Kédougou!) where he ‘established a clerical republic of enduring
fame and prestige.’[10] When
the Malian empire swept across the land, the “Jaxanké republic was respected as
a holy centre over which the king’s edict had no force.” [11] Their
towns were in many cases university towns, attracting scholars of the Koran
from all over the region. I think that this is extremely cool. Al-Hajj Salim
Suware emphasized pacifism as a tenant of clerical life, and rejected political
involvement. As Wikipedia puts it:
The Jakhanke cultural ethos is best characterized by a
staunch dedication to Islam, historical accuracy, rejection of jihad,
non-involvement in political affairs and the religious instruction of young
people.[12]
Over time, the Jaxanké came to be regarded as a
fully independent branch of the Soninké people from which they sprang, and came
to adopt the language of a neighboring people, the Malinké, which is also a
Mandé group. This is what I meant when I said that Malinké and Jaxanké is the
same language, but different people.
 |
| Everything which distinguishes man from the animals depends upon this ability to volatilize perceptual metaphors in a schema, and thus to dissolve an image into a concept |
The Jaxankés also came to develop a trade diaspora
that stretched from the interior lands of the Futa Jallon to a wide swath of
the West African coast. They were generally successful in their business
endeavors, thanks to hard work, effective networking, and a reputation, due to
their piousness, for being honest in trade and commerce.
Over the centuries the Jaxankés have maintained a
strong and independent cultural identity. Their dedication to pacifism and
political non-engagement was tested, but ultimately uncompromised by the coming
of European imperialism. Although some scholars maintain that this was largely
due to their cultural and geographic isolation, rather than cultural conviction.
The coming of Pulaars in the ~17th century, who quickly became a
culturally dominant majority in the Futa Jallon, was probably a bigger test of
their cultural tenacity.
Today the Jaxankés enjoy, as I have mentioned, a
reputation for hard work, religious piety, and a strong scholarly tradition.
That is my village in a nutshell. Volunteers in Pulaar villages around mine are
constantly blown away by how quickly and ambitiously people in my village go
about their work. Senegalese everywhere, at least those who have heard of the
Jaxankés[13]
will confirm; Jaxankés work hard.
I don’t mean
to defend my ‘own group’ at the expense of any other, this really isn’t about
that. I am just conferring my experience and the experience of other volunteers.
And the Jaxanké reputation has its flipside, in the form of a negative
stereotype. Many Senegalese, particularly those who do not actually live near
Jaxankés, or even know any, will often claim that all Jaxankés care about are godo, muso, subo; money, women, meat;
that they are greedy, and have an undue, disproportionate share of the
country’s wealth.
Sound familiar? A trade Diaspora. A strong,
relatively narrow religious tradition. A reputation for hard work and
intelligence, and, simultaneously, greed. Considering these things, myself, and
a few other academically engaged PC Sengegal friends, cannot help but think of
the Jaxankés as the Jews of West Africa. There are of course numerous issues
with this comparison, notably the much more urban-based history and culture of
the Jews, but I think that this is something to it. (But note that I
cite no academic sources here)
 |
| We are, all of us, growing volcanoes that approach the hour of their eruption; but how near or distant that is, nobody knows — not even God. |
So I live in a fascinating place, with a fascinating
group of people. Knowing all of this history enlivens my daily experience. Now
I see the long hours of drone-like reading from the Koran as the continuation
of a long and successful tradition, and I have reconsidered my conviction that
learning French is a better thing for the kids here than learning Arabic—although
this is still a very difficult question for me.
Right now the rainy season is beginning. The first
heavy rain came on the 15th of May, and within 5 days my village had
already planted many hectares of corn, cassava and peanuts. I have been looking
and asking around, and know of no other villages that planted so much land so
quickly/early. Most villages in the area are still repairing fences and have
only planted small patches of corn. The farmers in my village will be the first
people to have corn on the market, and will get higher prices for it. Planting
so early was a gamble though, because sometimes the first rain is followed by
weeks of dryness, but we got just enough rain in late May to bridge the gap,
and now the rains are coming with increasing regularity.
The village has also gotten together and is going to
rent a tractor for the entire rainy season to facilitate the farming of rice.
My host dad also purchased a horse[14],
which plows land about twice as fast as donkeys or cows. The village is also
building a big bridge right now to replace the stick bridge, which already
broke in a flood.
These are just some of the projects that are
underway in my village right now. I am consistently blown away by the work
ethic in my village, and the ambition.
The people are diligent, motivated, and have a real sense of purpose.
And they love their work. They believe in it too.
They believe in the power of work to improve their
lives and the lives of their children. Unfortunately this is really not the
case in much of Kedougou and Senegal. In many villages near the gold mines,
people hear of miners striking it rich and decide to go try their luck,
abandoning agriculture and other trades.
 |
| Thoughts are the shadows of our feelings — always darker, emptier, simpler. |
In other
villages, the saturation of NGOs seems to have diminished people’s
motivation. Why would you work when the
western donors are willing to dump all kinds of goods and money on your
village? And sometimes things are quite literally dumped onto villages. One
volunteer in the nearby town of Bandafassi told me of a time he was sitting
with some people in town, talking, when a truck representing a Spanish NGO
drove up. The truck stopped, and someone shoved about 20 new bikes, tied
together with rope, out of the back onto the ground. Then the truck drove away.
Needless to say, this volunteer
was very frustrated with the people in his village, and had great difficulty
getting them to cooperate on any manner of work project. This is an unfortunate
but very real and widespread result of well meaning NGOs.
Meanwhile I feel incredibly lucky with the work
partners I get to collaborate with. I get full support for almost any project I
propose. With rainy season coming on, work is rapidly picking up, and I am
spending many happy days out in the fields, living, amongst the continued
tradition of one of one of West Africa’s most successful cultural groups.
[1] http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ethnic_groups_in_Senegal
[2] Who are also known by dozens of
other appelations such as Fulani, Peul, Fulbe, etc
[3] An
amazing fact for a country that is 92% Muslim.
[4] http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_Mand%C3%A9_peoples_of_Africa
Fascinating!!
[5] http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ethnic_groups_in_Senegal
[6] Classification of individual languages within the
Mandé language family can be a very tenuous exercise. They tend to move along a
spectrum, rather than having strictly defined limits, and many dialects that
are officially considered to be separate languages are in fact fully mutually
intelligible to the native speaker. I wonder very often here what officially
defines a language.
[7] Futa
Jallon and the Jaxhanke Clerical Tradition. Sanneh, Lamin. Journal of Religion in Africa, Vol. 1 (1981), pp. 38-64.
[8] Ibid.
[9] http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fouta_Djallon
[10] ibid
[11] Mahmiud Kacti, Tarikhal-Fattdsht,
and O. Houdas and M. Delafosse, Paris,
1964, 314, Ar.
text 179.
[12] http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jakhanke_people
[13] When I
am in Dakar or anywhere out west with other volunteers this is a source of
constant hilarity. They will strike up conversations in Pulaar or Wolof with
fruit sellers, who will then start talking to me. “Je parle Jaxanké”, I say,
and they often have no idea what I am talking about. Sometimes they say, no no,
it’s pronounced jaxatu, (which is the
name of an eggplant like vegetable) and sorry we are all out.
[14] It’s
the only horse I’ve ever seen in Kedougou. We have sleeping sickness here, and
normally they cannot survive, but is vaccinated, and my dad has the supplies to
continue vaccinating it each year. I named it Muktar and have been riding it
around my village, to the delight of the little kids.
