A History of the East African Coast

by Charles Cornelius

   

  “At midnight there approached us a small craft with about a hundred men, all armed with cutlasses and bucklers. When they came to the vessel of the captain-major they attempted to board her, armed as they were, but this was not permitted. They paid us this visit merely to find out whether they might not capture one or the other of our vessels.”

   

  The following day, the king of Mombasa, Shahu bin Misham, changed tactic and sent goodwill gifts of oranges, lemons and sugar cane, together with a sheep, to the ships, which remained at anchor some way off the island. Two men from da Gama's fleet were even taken on a tour of the city, but da Gama remained suspicious and decided to torture two Muslims on board his ship, sailors picked up in Mozambique, to find out what the king of Mombasa was really planning. The same writer says:

   

  “At night the captain-major questioned two Moors whom we had on board, by dropping boiling oil on their skin, so that they might confess any treachery intended against us. They said that orders had been given to capture us as soon as we entered the port.”

   

  During the night of 10th April, an unsuccessful attempt was made to sabotage the Berrio and the San Rafael. Coming to the conclusion that, at least for the time being, staying in Mombasa was more trouble than it was worth, the Portuguese departed.

  The following evening, having spent another day harassing dhows, da Gama's fleet reached Malindi where they received a totally different reception. For nine days, the Portuguese were treated as honoured guests with da Gama and the king of Malindi becoming close friends. Both showered gifts on the other, they held a conference on board the San Gabriel, the Portuguese fleet fired salutes to Malindi's king and da Gama promised to send an ambassador to the town at some time in the future. The Portuguese account even talks of mock battles and musical performances.

   Crucially, the king of Malindi also supplied da Gama with an experienced pilot who knew the route to India, possibly Shihab al-Din Ahmad bin Majid al Najdi, a man well into his sixties who, as well as being the most celebrated Indian Ocean navigator of the fifteenth century, was also a prolific writer of prose and poetry. With the kuzi starting to blow, the Portuguese were able to make it to India within a month, arriving at Calicut on 18th May 1498.

  The Portuguese had a difficult time in Calicut. Muslim merchants were, not altogether unexpectedly, hostile to what they saw as rival traders and the Portuguese soon found themselves under attack; to start their long voyage home, they were forced to fight their way out of Calicut harbour. The return journey from India was a near disaster. Without a navigator, the ships ploughed through violent storms while many men died from disease. But when they reached Malindi again, the Portuguese were soon able to recover. Once again, the king treated the Portuguese like royalty, and lavished fruit upon the sick. Five days later, the Portuguese set out on their long journey home, but before they did, da Gama asked that a pillar be erected as a sign of the friendship between Portugal and Malindi. The pillar erected by the king of Malindi was one of only four erected in Africa and India to mark da Gama's voyage, and the only one that can be found today, on a headland just south of Malindi town, although its original location was near the present law courts close to the king's palace.

  The friendship established between the Portuguese and Malindi in 1498 and 1499 continued throughout the Portuguese time on the Swahili coast. One reason for the striking difference in the welcome afforded to the Portuguese by Mombasa and Malindi may lie in the fact that at the time of the Portuguese arrival, Mombasa and Malindi were at war with one another. The King of Malindi must have heard of the attempts by Mombasa to attack the Portuguese fleet, and deduced that any enemy of Mombasa was his friend. It was a deduction that would serve Malindi well in the future, and it cost Mombasa dearly.

   

  Portuguese Conquest of the East African Coast

  In the quarter of a century following da Gama's discovery of the Swahili coast and the sea route to India, two hundred and forty seven Portuguese ships entered the Indian Ocean. The first fleet, comprising thirteen ships, was dispatched within months of da Gama's return to Lisbon, and was led by Pedro Alaves Cabral.

  Cabral's voyage is perhaps most famous for his discovery of Brazil. Taking a route far to the west of Africa, possibly to avoid strong currents that had delayed Vasco da Gama, he sighted land, and Brazil was added to the European's map of the world. This was a bonus, for what Cabral had been sent to achieve was to establish a trading post in India, and to send ships to Sofala to investigate the possibility of exploiting the gold trade that came through the port. Since it quickly became clear that Sofala and the gold trade were controlled by Kilwa, Cabral headed there, arriving on 26th June 1500.

  The Portuguese visit was initially calm enough and Kilwa's ruler, Mir Ibrahim, did at least not make the mistake of attacking the Portuguese. But when he sailed out to meet Cabral, he mistook a Portuguese cannon salute for a military attack and fled back to the island. Nothing more of note seems to have taken place since the Portuguese fleet soon set sail for Malindi.

  Once again, the Portuguese were well received in Malindi and Cabral presented the king with a present, from King Manuel of Portugal, of a riding saddle, bridle and silver stirrups. Manuel treasured the friendship with Malindi, considering it important enough to mention in a letter to the king and queen of Spain the following year.

  After a few days in Malindi, Cabral left for Calicut where he established a Portuguese trading base, but almost as soon as Cabral left, those he had left behind were massacred. When news of this reached Lisbon, Vasco da Gama set out with a large fleet on his second voyage to the Indian Ocean.

  Alerted by his old friend, the King of Malindi, to an anti-Portuguese plot being hatched in Kilwa, da Gama decided to head straight for the town and force it to recognise Portuguese rule by paying a financial tribute to the King of Portugal, the age-old way of enshrining subject status. According to one Portuguese writer, the people of Kilwa were unnerved at the size of da Gama's fleet:

   

  “There was great alarm among the people on seeing so great a fleet enter the port; and on knowing that it was ours, of which they already knew so much from the events of Mozambique and Malindi, all the people felt great fear.”

   

  Da Gama sent a message to Mir Ibrahim, summoning him to his ship so that he could “establish with him good peace and friendship and trade,” which essentially meant recognising Portuguese overlordship of Kilwa. Mir Ibrahim replied that while he was more than happy to have the friendship and protection of Portugal, he wasn't particularly keen about the idea of becoming its subject. So in order to win him over to the idea of paying a tribute, da Gama threatened to burn the city, murder its inhabitants and send Mir Ibrahim in chains to India. Not surprisingly, Mir Ibrahim agreed to pay up - although he asked for time to get the money together - and the Portuguese set sail for Malindi. Kilwa breathed a sigh of relief and, once rid of the Portuguese, soon forgot about the promised payment of five thousand cruzados. Unfortunately for Kilwa, the Portuguese had a better memory.

   

  Da Gama’s love-in with the King of Malindi then resumed:

   

  “ ... the king ... was ready with great joy at the arrival of his great friend Dom Vasco da Gama ... and both embraced as if they were brothers and great friends, exchanging great courtesies.”

   

  The king was treated by the Portuguese as his royal title deserved, seated upon a dais on board da Gama's galleon where he received the greetings of the captains of each of the ships in the fleet. Meanwhile the Portuguese ships restocked with large quantities of gifts provided by the king before setting sail for Calicut, where they re-established the Portuguese trading base and exacted revenge for the massacre of the one left by Cabral.

  The following year, Antonio de Saldanha was appointed commander-in-chief of India and set out from Lisbon. En r
oute to East Africa, one of his ships, commanded by Ruy Loureno Ravasco, became separated from the fleet in a storm. Alone and unable to find a port prepared to sell him provisions, Ravasco turned to piracy and in a two month period off the island of Zanzibar captured twenty dhows and their cargoes. When Ravasco entered a harbour on Zanzibar Island, the king of Zanzibar, fearing an attack, assembled a force of four thousand men on the beach, but a burst of Portuguese cannon killed thirty five Zanzibari, including the son of the king, and the rest of the force fled. The king then agreed to pay a tribute of 100 miticals of gold per annum as a subject of the king of Portugal.

  Laden with food and gold, Ravasco set sail for Malindi, no doubt hoping to find his colleagues. However, when he reached Malindi, Ravasco learned that the only recent visitors to the town had been warriors from Mombasa. So he set off back down the coast, capturing a boatload of Swahili nobles from Brava on the way which enabled him to force another town into subject status, and reached Mombasa. Ravasco resumed his piracy, seizing more dhows as they attempted to enter Mombasa’s harbour, before Saldanha and the rest of the Portuguese fleet finally appeared. Facing overwhelming odds, the King of Mombasa promised to leave Malindi alone. Malindi’s friendship with Portugal was starting to reap rewards.

  Compared with what was about to happen to the coast, the first seven years of Portuguese incursions were merely toying with the Swahili towns. In 1505, the kid gloves came off and, led by the newly-appointed governor of India, Dom Francisco De Almeida, a fleet of twenty ships, containing perhaps 1500 troops, set out from Lisbon. It was time to make it clear to the Swahili that Portugal was the new master of the coast.

  Sofala fell without a struggle. This was hardly surprising since its king, Sheikh Yusuf, was more than happy to use the Portuguese as a means of gaining independence from Kilwa, the town that had controlled Sofala and the gold trade since the twelfth century. However the Portuguese, dreaming of securing massive fortunes, had no intention of allowing Sofala to be independent of them. Preparations for the construction of a fortress there were begun before the fleet sailed further  north.

  Kilwa was next. Almeida had orders to exact retribution for Kilwa's failure to pay the tribute promised to da Gama, and to construct a fortress on the island. Eight ships entered the harbour and Almeida summoned Mir Ibrahim to his ship for a meeting the following day. The day came and Almeida waited. Then news came that Ibrahim wouldn't be coming; apparently a black cat had crossed his path as he had risen, and Mir Ibrahim claimed that this was an omen that nothing lasting could be accomplished that day. He would not turn up for the meeting.

  Upon hearing the news, Almeida’s face is said to have cracked into an evil grin, and he announced:

   

  “Let us return in our true finery because, as you are aware, the Moors have always paid greater honour to our iron than to our gold.”

   

  At daybreak on 24th July, around five hundred Portuguese troops stormed Kilwa. They met no resistance until they entered the narrow streets of the town.

   

  “After Dom Francisco [de Almeida] had entered the streets, as these were narrow and high, before, behind and above them, from the top of the terraces such a volley of stones and arrows rained down on them that they were sorely pressed, and suffered great damage from being so closely packed together.”

   

  The Swahili were well prepared and determined to resist, but they could not hold out for long against armoured Europeans. The palace soon fell while Mir Ibrahim and his entourage fled to the mainland. The Portuguese looted the town. Those who had not fled were either imprisoned or murdered.

  The Portuguese appointed a new king, Mohamed Ancony, a Swahili who had helped the Portuguese. Then they began the construction of a fortress, leaving behind a garrison of eighty troops when the Portuguese fleet departed. Mombasa was next.

  Mombasa was better prepared than most Swahili towns to face the Portuguese threat. The arrival of the Europeans had prompted her to fortify her harbour, partly using cannon from a shipwrecked Portuguese ship that had been with Cabral's fleet. So when the Portuguese entered the harbour a week after leaving Kilwa, they were surprised to be greeted by a volley of cannonballs. Two ships were badly damaged, but they were able to return fire and, with good luck on their side, hit a store of gunpowder which destroyed the Mombasan fortification. The Portuguese fleet was now free to bombard the town.

  The following day, Portuguese troops invaded the island, killing, burning and looting wherever they went. It was a massacre. Fifteen hundred Mombasans were killed and a thousand imprisoned. The king fled, but he was able to send news to the king of Malindi:

   

  “This is to inform you that a great lord has passed through the town, burning it and laying it waste. He came to the town in such strength and was of such cruelty, that he spared neither man nor woman, old nor young, nay, not even the smallest child. Not even those who fled escaped his fury. He not only killed and burnt men but even the birds of the heavens were shot down. The stench of the corpses is so great in the town that I dare not go there.”

   

  Almeida had unleashed European iron and gunpowder upon Kilwa and Mombasa, two of the most powerful trading towns on the coast. Huge amounts of goods had been seized, thousands died and the towns were temporarily deserted. Kilwa would never fully recover. Forbidden to trade in gold, her economy collapsed and a year later her Portuguese-appointed king was assassinated. A dispute over the succession led to civil war. Even when the Portuguese lifted the trade restrictions, Kilwa remained a shadow of her once dominant position.

  Two years after Almeida's brutal visit, the towns of the Lamu Archipelago fell into line. Lamu and Pate gave in after a Portuguese blockade. Brava, which had promised to pay a tribute back in 1503, had since claimed allegiance to Egypt, so the Portuguese sacked the town. In 1509, Mafia Island submitted to Portuguese rule. Zanzibar resisted but was sacked. The inhabitants of Pemba Island fled to Mombasa.

  By 1510, the Portuguese had a vice-like grip on the coast. The Swahili towns, totally unable to unite against the Europeans, had been picked off one-by-one. Some towns formed temporary alliances with Portugal as a way of gaining an advantage over a rival neighbour. Some fought to gain a greater share in the gold trade now that once-mighty Kilwa had been cut down in size. Disputes over royal successions in the towns led to outbreaks of civil war. This was nothing new, but it made resistance to the newcomers impossible. Chaos reigned.

  Portugal was now in a position to consolidate her control. North of Cape Delgado, authority was placed in the hands of the Captain of Malindi. South of the Cape, the Captain of Mozambique took responsibility. But neither captain commanded more than a few hundred troops and a few ships. Fortresses built at Kilwa, Sofala and Mozambique had small garrisons, and these men were highly vulnerable to outbreaks of malaria and other tropical diseases. The Portuguese abandoned their fortress in Kilwa soon after 1506, while a fortress in Mombasa had only got as far as the foundation stage before it too was abandoned. And if real trouble arose, the Portuguese at the coast had to rely on support from their viceroy in India, whose headquarters had by then been established at Goa.

  In any case, apart from the promise of fortunes to be made from the gold mines of Zimbabwe, Portugal’s interest in the Swahili coast was merely as a series of stopover points en route to India. The Portuguese wanted to be sure they could rely on these ports for supplies and came to the odd conclusion that by forcing them to pay financial tributes, recognise the King of Portugal as their overlords and suffer the occasional sacking, the towns would remain loyal to Portugal. It wasn't just East Africa that was approached in this way. So too were ports in Arabia and the Persian Gulf, such as Muscat and Ormuz. Towns in western India were also captured, including the stronghold of Goa. The Portuguese even went beyond India, soon controlling Ceylon, Malacca and the Malay Archipelago. Territory was only captured by the Portuguese in order to f
acilitate their control of Indian Ocean commerce. Wealth is what the Portuguese really wanted.

  Many towns – Kilwa being the most obvious example – suffered under the initial Portuguese onslaught, but many prospered, including Malindi and Pate. Pate seems to have gone through a resurgence in the first decades of Portuguese occupation. Her sixteenth century sultans were on friendly terms with the Portuguese and according to the Pate Chronicle:

   

  “[Portuguese] influence grew great in the town of Pate, and they taught people how to excavate wells in the rocks by means of gunpowder. The Portuguese built houses on the rock and made an underground passage to Pongwa rock. For a long time they lived together in friendship and traded with goods and every kind of thing.”

   

  The people of Pate also prospered:

   

  “They made large houses and put in them brass lamps with chimneys, and they made ladders of silver to climb up into bed with, and silver neck chains. Into the pillars of the houses they beat silver studs and nails of gold on top of them.”

   

  Many Portuguese merchants are said to have settled in Pate (and in fact some families there today claim descent from the Portuguese). Then things started to go wrong. In the 1560s, the Portuguese, perhaps realising that the gold trade was not as lucrative as they had once dreamed, started to impose hefty import duties on goods entering the ports of the coast. This was nothing new - Kilwa had been doing the same thing for centuries - but then they introduced a passport system in which all African and Asian ships had to hold a trading permit from the Portuguese authorities. This simply reduced the number of ships plying the old trade routes. Some towns refused to pay the tax. Pate was one of them. In retaliation, Portugal blockaded and bombarded the town. Fortunately, two sons of a sharif were visiting Pate at the time and, according to the Pate Chronicle, because they had exhorted the people of Pate to pray to Allah, the cannonballs passed harmlessly overhead. Unable to damage the town, the Portuguese eventually agreed to a truce. Not all the towns who refused the Portuguese tax were so lucky.