Latest / Great Zimbabwe: The Lost African Kingdom of Stone — Fexingo History / Great Zimbabwe 1374 The Mbira Council Reforms the Mwari Oracle
Transcript
- Lucas: So by 1374, Mambo Chikanda is looking at a kingdom in transition. The gold trade has dried up, the Kilwa merchants have moved on to other ports, and Great Zimbabwe is having to reinvent itself economically. But there's another crisis brewing — a spiritual one. Luna: The Mwari Oracle, right? It's been growing in influence since the trade collapse. Lucas: Exactly. The Mwari Oracle, which had its origins in the Matopo Hills, has become the de facto state religion. But its priesthood is fractured. You've got different svikiro — spirit mediums — each claiming authority, and there's no central doctrine. The old mhondoro lineages, the lion spirits like Dzivaguru and Chaminuka, are competing for influence. And the Mbira Council of Song — remember, that's the body Chikanda created after the mbira resistance — is frustrated because the oracle's decisions are unpredictable and sometimes contradict their own rulings. Luna: So the council decides to step in and reorganise the oracle itself? Lucas: That's what happens. In 1374, the Mbira Council convenes a special session at the Great Enclosure. They invite Nehanda Nyamuzuwe — she's a powerful svikiro from the Dande area, one of the few who had supported Chikanda during the mbira wars — and also Chaminuka, an elder mhondoro who's deeply respected but very traditional. The goal is to create a unified code for how the oracle operates. Luna: A written code? That's a big shift for an oral tradition. Lucas: Huge. And that's exactly the point of contention. Nehanda argues that writing things down will prevent disputes — if every svikiro follows the same rules for possession, for prophecy, for how tribute is offered, then there's less room for manipulation. She proposes a set of rituals for purification at the Njelele shrine, the main Mwari site in the Matopo Hills. Chaminuka, on the other hand, insists that the spirits speak through living mediums, not on parchment. He says writing will freeze the oracle, make it inflexible. Luna: So how do they resolve it? Lucas: Compromise. The Mbira Council mediates, and they come up with something called the Mwari Code of 1374. It's not a full legal code — it's more like a set of protocols. For example, it establishes that only certain dhlandhlo — that's the term for the senior medium who channels Mwari directly — can perform the annual rain ceremony. It also bans a handful of mbira hymns that had been used during the resistance to incite rebellion — those are now classified as 'songs of dissent' and are forbidden inside the Great Enclosure. But it leaves the actual content of prophecies unwritten — Chaminuka wins that point. So you have a hybrid system: written procedures, oral prophecy. Luna: And Chikanda backs this code? Lucas: He does. It's a smart move. By supporting the code, he aligns himself with the reformist faction represented by Nehanda, but he also keeps Chaminuka's traditionalists on side by protecting oral prophecy. It strengthens his authority because now the oracle's pronouncements come through a council-approved channel. The Mwari Oracle becomes more predictable, more integrated into the state. Luna: It sounds like a political settlement as much as a religious one. Lucas: Absolutely. And it works for about a decade. But there's a cost. The code also centralises power in the dhlandhlo at Njelele, which creates resentment among local svikiro in outlying areas. Some of them start to break away, setting up their own shrines in places like the Zambezi Valley. That fragmentation will come back to haunt Chikanda later. Luna: Before we go deeper into that — and I know we're just getting into the meat of this — I want to mention something. For anyone who's been following these conversations about Great Zimbabwe, and who wants to help us keep digging into stories like this without ads: listeners like you are the reason this show stays independent. If you'd like to support what we do, you can find us at buy me a coffee dot com slash fexingo. Lucas: Yeah, it really does make a difference. Every bit of support lets us spend more time on the research and less time worrying about funding. Now — back to the Mwari Code. One of the most interesting specifics is the purification ritual for someone who wants to consult the oracle. Luna: What did it involve? Lucas: The code stipulates that a supplicant must bring a danga — that's a sacrificial cow — and also a muraya, which is a type of beer brewed from millet. They have to spend three days at Njelele, undergoing a cleansing ceremony led by the nganga, the herbalist-diviner. On the third day, the dhlandhlo enters a trance state and delivers the oracle's response. If the response is unfavourable, the supplicant can request a second consultation after another three days, but they have to bring a second danga. This is expensive — it effectively limits access to the oracle to wealthier individuals or communities. Luna: So the code reinforces social hierarchy even as it standardises the ritual. Lucas: Exactly. And that's part of why the code is controversial. The Mbira Council of Song is supposed to represent the voice of the people through music, but here they're codifying a system that excludes the poor. Nehanda argues that it's necessary to maintain the oracle's dignity, but Chaminuka warns that the spirits should be accessible to all. It's a tension that runs through the whole of Shona religious history. Luna: And the banned mbira hymns — do we know which ones? Lucas: We have some names from oral tradition. One is called 'Nyamuzuwe's Lament' — it was composed by a svikiro from Dande who had opposed Chikanda during the mbira war. Another is 'The Song of the Broken Stone', which reportedly describes the collapse of the Great Enclosure's outer wall as a metaphor for the kingdom's vulnerability. The council bans these because they're seen as subversive — they stir up memories of the rebellion. But of course, banning a song only makes it more powerful. People sing them in secret, and they become part of the underground repertoire. Luna: So the code tries to control the oracle, but it also inadvertently preserves the resistance music. Lucas: Exactly. And that's the irony of codification. The Mbira Council wanted order, but by defining what's forbidden, they create a shadow canon. Those banned hymns are still remembered today, passed down through generations. In a way, the code ensured their survival. Luna: It's a reminder that when you try to control a living tradition, you often end up strengthening the parts you wanted to suppress. Lucas: Precisely. And that will become very relevant in the next few years, when the Mambo's authority starts to fray and those songs become rallying cries again. But for now, in 1374, the code is seen as a success. Great Zimbabwe has a unified state oracle, a clear ritual hierarchy, and a set of rules that everyone — at least in theory — follows. It's a moment of consolidation after a turbulent period. Luna: And it sets the stage for the next phase of the kingdom's history. Lucas: It does. Because the Mwari Code doesn't just affect religion — it reshapes politics. With the oracle now more centralised, Chikanda can use it to legitimise his decisions. When he wants to impose a new tax on cattle, he can have the dhlandhlo announce that Mwari demands it. When he needs to raise an army, the oracle can call for volunteers. The lines between spiritual and political authority blur completely. And that's a double-edged sword — it gives the Mambo immense power, but it also means that any challenge to the oracle becomes a challenge to the state itself. Luna: Which is exactly what happens later, with the Rozvi and Torwa breakaway groups. Lucas: Right. But that's a story for another episode. For now, let's sit with the Mwari Code of 1374 — a document that tried to capture the voice of the spirits in ink, and in doing so, changed the course of Shona history.