Not once has an e-mail from Zak ended without his best wishes in some version of “I hope you are good with your family!” And recently Zak wrote of his prayer “for liberty of survive…”
I told Zak I was preparing an update of the text for this book’s “second edition.” It was important for me to ask about his comfort with, and his permission for, my writing about his life in these difficult times.
He replied, “That I survive or no from this war, that book will be a very good memorial thing for all around the world but more for the future generation from my country!” What he wrote next tore at my heart: “It’s a work you are doing for my people for the world know us and do not forget us!”
The great fear among both the region’s residents and outside observers is that all of the Sahel will become unstable. Robert Fowler, the UN special envoy to Niger in 2008, was kidnapped by the AQIM in the Sahel in that year. Now freed, he says the AQIM’s ambition is to make the vast swath of territory from Mauritania to Somalia “one great, chaotic, anarchic mess in which they believe their jihad will thrive.”
Everything I’d enjoyed in Timbuktu has been curtailed or condemned. The Djinguereber Mosque I’d been allowed to visit, the Festival au Desert, the freedom and confidence to trek in the Dogon, the smiles on the faces of children saying “un cadeau, un cadeau” — all were gone for the time being. Nothing strikes me as much, though, as the loss of Zak’s carefree “will fix” attitude concerning any difficulty. Instead, his wish became “that we cross this difficult and terrible time…”
After my trip I became more attentive to the efforts aimed at easing the plight of Timbuktu’s endangered manuscripts. Those efforts garnered the attention they deserved, notably in a frontpage article in The New York Times and a page in National Geographic. Coverage was well intentioned but only sporadic. The current difficulties have brought these artifacts to the forefront of international media attention. The known collections of manuscripts are spread among sixty family and private libraries; even these locations are thought to account for only a portion of the manuscripts. At the height of the AQIM control of Timbuktu, the survival of every single ancient manuscript was under threat.
There are many private libraries in Timbuktu, most in the Old Town part of the city, as shown by the location tags on this aerial photograph (which compares to the drawn map on page 157). Some of their collections are not well known, yet each is important and in need of financial assistance and trained workers to help preserve the ancient manuscripts. Location assistance and French names provided by Ali ould Sidi, Chef de la Mission Culturelle de Tombouctou. (Map c. 2013 Google; Imagery c. 2013 Aerodata International Survey, Digital Globe, GeoEye)
At that time, I came across the story of Mohamed Diagayete, a refugee from Mali, a peripatetic scholar, a covert conniver, and bibliophile with spy-caliber nerves. The computer that Diagayete had left behind in Timbuktu housed digital images of thousands of the manuscripts. As tombs in Timbuktu were being defaced and people were being subjected to the lash for minor infractions, he returned to Timbuktu, “snuck in,” retrieved his hard drive, and escaped once again. But he has reproductions of only a small portion of the estimated 700,000 manuscripts at risk in Timbuktu. Of the rest, he said: “When we lose them, we have no other copy. It’s forever.”
A few years ago, I was in California and met with Professor Musa Balde, of the Timbuktu Educational Foundation. He took me to his neighborhood African restaurant for a meal of the most delicious chicken and couscous. The professor had just returned from a trip to Timbuktu and when I asked if he possessed any manuscripts, he said, “Yes, in my family.” When I pressed, he replied, “I have some myself.” I did not ask about either the quantities or the locations of the manuscripts. Over a lunch enlivened by much talk and many handshakes, Professor Balde spoke of how my arrival was the wish of the heavens and that there was a role for me to play in helping the Timbuktu foundation move forward. I did not have the same sense of heaven’s hand, nor did I feel a nudge, and we left one another without any implied obligation on my part, though I’d made the foundation my first choice for the promised donation of funds resulting from my book royalties and had provided them to him. The TEF had once operated a “preserve a manuscript” program that was admirable and easy for one to support. Lately I’ve tried to connect again with it, but I’ve had no luck making contact or receiving a reply. I suspect the foundation is not operating any longer, and its once handsome website is now down.
In 2008, a beautiful book of photographs and text was published as The Hidden Treasures of Timbuktu. Written by John O. Hunwick and Alida Jay Boye, it included lavish photography by Joseph Hunwick. I’d met Alida Jay Boye over the Internet when I came across the work she was doing through the University of Oslo and its program to preserve Timbuktu’s manuscripts. She generously provided two photographs for my book, and then her own book came out, leapfrogging to the top of the list of Timbuktu books as the most descriptive, most important way for all of us to understand the wonders and importance of these artifacts. In 2010 Alida facilitated my modest donation to La Bibliothèque Mohamed Tahar, a library in Timbuktu under the careful custodianship of Abdoul Wahid Haidara, advising that $600 would complete the library’s roof, providing a necessary shelter for the library’s work and helping to house more books in a stable environment.
All of that changed, and then changed back.
Irreplaceable treasures in peril, even when added to the horrors of forced prostitution and punishments that include amputation, drew the world’s outrage but not its intervention. As Mopti came under the plotting gaze of the insurgents, France’s president, François Hollande, responded: “It is in leaving AQIM … free to flourish in the Sahel that I would be taking risks with my country.” An international military response began with the arrival of French Mirage and Rafale fighter jets in Malian airspace in early 2013.
These workers are employees of the Ahmed Baba Institute, and when the time of day is appropriate for their prayers, they conduct them within the library’s collection which holds rare and unique books and pamphlets, including ancient Arabic and Hebrew manuscripts. (Alexandra Huddleston)
African soldiers welcome working with French forces in northern Mali as they begin maneuvers in mid February, 2013 to oust the insurgent extremists from not only Timbuktu and Gao, but from all of Mali. (AP Photo/Pascal Guyot, Pool)
And it was swift, the way the French went about taking control of each city first by securing its airport and then surrounding or arcing through the town. Most insurgents were reported to have retreated to the desert, to hide away in its mountains and rely on intimidation from a distance.
Amid all this came an email from Zak: “Hello my friend, we are so happy now that FRANCE is taking out those peouple [sic] from of MALI!!! We hope to be abble [sic] to go back home very soon.”
And then the rumours started. “Rebels torch Timbuktu manuscript library.” The Reuters news service quoted the town’s mayor: “Islamist fighters fleeing Mali’s ancient Saharan city of Timbuktu as French and Malian troops closed in set fire to a South African-funded library there containing thousands of priceless manuscripts.” These were the treasures in the Ahmed Baba collection. Inside I cried. These writings by Muslims, cared for over centuries by Muslims, watched over and interpreted and revered by Muslims — were destroyed by other Muslims for the simple reason that they passed along history and told of science and conveyed knowledge.
Yet as quickly as that news came in, it was immediately followed by conflicting reports: the extremists were unsuccessful in their efforts to destroy the ancient manuscripts of Timbuktu. The attempted arson had failed, the flames unable to take hold. Instead, the sturdy stacks of pages proved too bulky for the fire to burn effectively and engulf the books and wooden shelves. Rather, the fires smoldered long enough for residents to extinguish the threat. The library was scarred and many writings were lost, but there was reason to look at the lessened damage optimistically.
In this time of heightened awareness and renewed interest, individuals and foundations and Malian scholars will embark anew to protect the ancient manuscripts, and they will build on much good work that exists already. Among the most important is the University of Oslo’s Timbuktu Manuscript Project managed by Alida Jay Boye, which successfully completed its scope of work in 2009 including a preliminary inventory of collections, and the creation of an electronic database for ongoing cataloguing, as well as training for workers in the delicate task of handling these historically unique pieces. Also among those active is the Tombouctou Manuscript Project through the University of Cape Town, supported by the government of South Africa and the Ford Foundation. Just as UNESCO has announced that it will find ways to rebuild the destroyed shrines, so too will there be fresh and meaningful endeavours to preserve, translate, and understand these treasured manuscripts.
First reports out of Timbuktu in late January 2013 warned of the fires set by the fleeing Islamists in an attempt to destroy Timbuktu’s trove of priceless and irreplaceable manuscripts. Such reports fueled fears that libraries were ablaze and that the damage would be overwhelming. Though many manuscripts were partially burnt or others turned to ashes, these at the Ahmed Baba Centre were being recovered and the resulting damage was limited. (Eric Feferberg/AFP/Getty Images)
Soon the French announced plans to leave Mali, their surge of 4,000 troops no longer committed, though they stated the intention to leave 1,000 military personnel in the country until year’s end. Their role on the ground was supplanted by troops from nearby African nations, notably Niger and Chad. New forces claimed their own early successes as they pursued the jihadists into their desert hideaways. The Malian army, with a history of accusations of human rights abuses, began new training in hopes it will properly protect those they are tasked to help. Into the mix of well-intentioned efforts would come 12,000 UN peacekeepers, arriving during the summer of 2013, and deployed with the unanimous endorsement of the UN’s Security Council.
And in the north of Mali, the Tuareg realigned their transitory loyalties to assist African troops in driving away the now unwelcome insurgents.
But did they all retreat into the desert as was claimed? The Economist asked: “Where have the jihadists gone?” Some were said to have shed the markers by which they could be identified and to have melded in with the locals. It is here they have a reprise, for the moment. One may surmise that a re-tailored extremist may be leaning against the broken wood door jam of a mudded home watching a Gao carver make furniture, or standing in line to buy fresh baked bread from a street-oven vendor in Douentza, or might even be bended in prayer next to a fellow Muslim whose lifestyle they despise.
When I first returned from Timbuktu, it seemed to me that few people, private citizens and government officials alike, were paying any attention to Mali. The nation wasn’t much more than a point-to reference as a functioning democracy on a dysfunctional continent. The Western world has an unfortunate tendency to ignore Africa and its ongoing struggles under all but the most tragic circumstances.
Before they left for a safer place, Marie, Kaleb, and Zak Kouriba are at their home in a small village in Le Pays Dogon, with a television set in the corner under protective cover from the swirls of sand and wind.
While writing this afterword, I received another email from Zak: “I am very happy to know that new pages of writing will appear soon about my country, and all things happening in Timbuktu and all around Mali.” And yet later, “We are happy to inform you that we are back to Mopti. We are healthy and in security!” He could not know that Mali and Timbuktu were regularly leading the commentary in the West’s major daily newspapers and on evening television news broadcast around the world. He could not know that right now we are a world wrestling to find a way to care for, and to contribute something useful to, the wellbeing of people like Zak, his family, and his country in their time of desperate need.
On the phone just before this book went to press, Zak told me that he, Marie and Kaleb will stay in Mopti. He is starting a new business there. He has five female chickens and one male, and is building a chicken house and will get more chicks to add with his current dozen. He plans for 100 females and 15 males in order to be a sustainable size. Then his brothers and sisters can join with him. This will be his new work – and theirs, though he will keep the onion garden in his remote Dogon village. I asked after Nema and he had seen her “just one day before.” She has a good job with an African bank in Bamako, and what is more – she and her husband have two healthy young sons. This bright news was balanced with talk of Zak’s father passing away recently, as had his grandfather a year ago, leaving Zak, 33, as the family’s patriarch. “We do not live long lives in Africa,” he said.
And talk of Nema reminded me how often readers of this book have assumed that she kept my hat when she last grabbed it from me. I agree I left that impression. While I never saw Nema again once we parted, the truth is that a little later I noticed the hat leaning against the wooden elbow of an arm chair. I took it. I love that hat, and have it still. It makes me smile.
The suicide bombings began as soon as France announced the scattering of jihadists. Five suicide bombers attacked Malian troops near Gao, wounding several and killing themselves. Next, a loner on a scooter targeted soldiers, leaving five dead when he exploded. Within the same time period came news of two bombings in Timbuktu and two in Kidal. All this of course channels memories of other conflicts when the war was won and the peace was lost. Tolstoy wrote that “All victories are temporary.”
With Africa on my mind, lately I’ve been tuning into a radio station which frequently plays West African music late at night. And it brought to my attention striking songs of soft words and haunting truths that I’d never heard before. Brothers in Bamako, a selection of songs played and sung by guitarists Habib Koité and Eric Bibb, are songs “shared by an African and an African-American that no wind can separate.” In one song, Send us Brighter Days, they share words that must resonate in Mali today: “Send us healing ways…”
That sentiment is echoed in the oddly upbeat song, “Needed Time”:
Now is the needed time
We’re livin in the needed time
Timbuktu as it appears today, looking north along the Route de Kabara. In the nineteenth century, the French explorer René Caillié wrote: “Still, though I cannot account for the impressions, there was something imposing in the aspect of a great city raised in the midst of sands.”
Chronology
circa 1000 –Nomadic Tuaregs use Timbuktu as a seasonal camp.
circa 1100 –Timbuktu is a permanent marketplace intersecting River Niger and Sahara Desert trade routes.
1324 –Mansa Kankan Moussa, emperor of Mali (since 1312), visits Timbuktu with a caravan of tremendous wealth; builds mosque in Timbuktu, and twelve years later makes this territory part of the Mali Empire.
1353 –Ibn Battutah, the great Moroccan traveller, visits Timbuktu.
1373 –First European reference to Timbuktu occurs in an atlas.
circa 1400 –Mali Empire loses control of Timbuktu to Tuaregs.
circa 1470–95 –Nadir of Timbuktu as a centre for trade, religious learning, scholarship, and wealth.
1496 –Pilgrimage of Askia the Great (Songhai Empire) from Timbuktu to Mecca; destabilizes Egypt’s currency by giving away hundreds of thousands of gold pieces.
1526 –Visit of Leo Africanus to Timbuktu.
circa 1600 –Decline of Timbuktu’s wealth begins.
1788 –Founding of the Association for Promoting the Discovery of Inland Parts of the Continent of Africa (Britain), known as the African Association.
1795–96 –Mungo Park’s first expedition to Timbuktu fails.
1805 –Mungo Park’s second expedition travels near, but not to, Timbuktu.
1811 –American Benjamin Rose (Robert Adams) is held as a captured slave in Timbuktu, the first non-African/non-Arab to see Timbuktu, a claim that is disputed.
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br /> 1814 –The Committee of the Company of Merchants Trading to Africa, known as the African Committee, publishes Robert Adams’s book.
1826 –10,000 franc prize is offered by Société de Géographie de France (Paris) for a “first person” account of visiting Timbuktu and returning.
1826 –British Major Alexander Gordon Laing visits Timbuktu and is murdered.
1828 –French explorer René-August Caillié reaches Timbuktu and returns safely to Europe.
1853 –German Heinrich Barth reaches Timbuktu and returns safely home.
1880 –French military expedition to determine Trans-Saharan Railway route ends in disaster.
1890 –French declare Soudan as their colony; Timbuktu falls to the French in 1893–1894.
1960 –Independence from France for Republic of Mali; Bamako capital; Timbuktu under Mali rule for the first time since the early fifteenth century.
1988 –UNESCO declares Timbuktu a World Heritage Site.
1990 –Timbuktu is placed on the list of World Heritage Sites in Danger.
–Tuareg rebellion against the Malian government.
1992 –National Pact.
1996 –On March 27, a formal truce declared following the civil war with Tuaregs who sought an independent homeland, Azawad (Azaouad).
2010 –Beginnings of Arab Spring in North Africa.
2011 –Rebellion erupts in Libya.
–October 20, Libyan leader Colonel Muammar Gadhafi killed.
–Tuareg’s National Movement for the Liberation of Azawad (MNLA) aligned with Ansar Dine (Defenders of Faith), align with Al-Qaeda in the Islamic Maghreb (AQIM).
2012 –March 20, coup d’état in Mali, President Amadou Toumani Touré deposed; Captain Amadou Sanogo seizes power.
–Post coup, the Economic Community of West African States (ECOWAS) works to negotiate a return to democracy, and in November authorizes possible military intervention.
To Timbuktu for a Haircut Page 29