Latest / Timbuktu: Africa's Forgotten Center of Knowledge — Fexingo History / The Timbuktu Astronomer Who Knew the Earth Was Round
Transcript
- Lucas: So I think we've built up this image of Timbuktu as a city of law, of theology, of manuscript collecting — but one thing we haven't really touched on is the sky. The astronomy. Luna: Astronomy in Timbuktu? I didn't know that was a big deal there. Lucas: Oh, it was. And not just in a 'look at the stars and guess the weather' way. I'm talking about a scholar named Muhammad al-Wangari — we've mentioned him in passing before — who in the early 1600s wrote an encyclopedia of the universe called 'Mir'at al-'Alam,' which means 'The Mirror of the Universe.' It's a massive work covering cosmology, geography, astronomy, calendar systems, you name it. Luna: So it's like an early textbook on everything? Lucas: Pretty much. And what's remarkable is that al-Wangari was writing from Timbuktu, but he was drawing on a deep tradition of Islamic astronomy that stretched from Spain to Persia. He cites al-Zarqali, the 11th-century Andalusian astronomer who made the Toledan Tables, and al-Battani, who calculated the solar year with incredible precision. So this wasn't isolated knowledge — it was connected. Luna: But how did manuscripts from Spain get all the way to Timbuktu? Lucas: The same way everything else did — the trans-Saharan book trade. We've talked about that in earlier episodes. Caravans brought not just salt and gold, but books. And Timbuktu's scholars were voracious. They'd copy, translate, and comment on works from the entire Islamic world. Al-Wangari himself studied at Sankore, and he was part of the Qadiriyya Sufi order, which had networks across North Africa. So he had access to libraries that contained works from al-Andalus, from Cairo, from Baghdad. Luna: So what did he actually calculate? Could he figure out the shape of the Earth? Lucas: He absolutely knew the Earth was round. That was common knowledge among Islamic scholars since the 9th century. Al-Wangari writes about the circumference of the Earth, and he gives a figure that's remarkably close to the real value. He also explains how to determine the direction of Mecca — the qibla — using astronomical calculations. That was a practical need for prayer, but it also drove a lot of scientific work. Luna: So astronomy wasn't just theoretical. It had everyday uses. Lucas: Exactly. In Timbuktu, scholars used astronomy to set the times of the five daily prayers, to determine the beginning and end of Ramadan, to navigate the desert, and even to decide legal questions — like when a lunar month starts for the purpose of contracts or marriages. The qadis, the judges, often consulted astronomers. So it was woven into daily life. Lucas: And they had instruments. We know from the surviving manuscripts that Timbuktu scholars used astrolabes — those intricate brass devices that let you measure the altitude of stars and calculate time. There are references to celestial globes, too. One of the most famous objects in Timbuktu's manuscript collections is a celestial globe from the 16th century, with constellations marked on it. Luna: Wait — they had a physical globe of the stars? Where is it now? Lucas: It's in the Ahmed Baba Institute in Timbuktu. It survived the jihadist occupation in 2012 because librarians smuggled it out along with thousands of manuscripts. That particular globe is made of brass, about the size of a soccer ball, with engraved lines for the ecliptic, the celestial equator, and the positions of major stars. It's a tangible link to a scientific tradition we rarely associate with West Africa. Luna: It's amazing that something like that existed in Timbuktu. Lucas: And it wasn't a fluke. Al-Wangari wasn't alone. There was also Ahmad al-Takruri, another Timbuktu astronomer who wrote about the movements of the moon and planets. And there were probably many more whose works are lost or still hidden in private family libraries. The Tarikh al-Sudan, the chronicle written by al-Sadi, mentions that the scholars of Sankore taught astronomy as part of the standard curriculum. Luna: So it was part of the education system. Like, every student learned some astronomy? Lucas: At Sankore, yes. Alongside law, theology, grammar, and logic. Astronomy was considered essential for a well-rounded scholar. One of the things they studied was the Almagest of Ptolemy, but they also read more recent works. Al-Wangari's Mir'at al-'Alam was itself a textbook. He wrote it for students, to explain the universe in a clear, systematic way. Lucas: And it's not just about stars. He also includes geography: lists of cities, distances, climates. He describes the seven climes, a concept from ancient Greek geography that Islamic scholars refined. He talks about the Indian Ocean, the Atlantic, the Mediterranean. For someone in Timbuktu, reading that would have given them a mental map of the whole known world. Luna: It's like having a whole encyclopedia of the world, written in a city in the middle of the Sahara. Lucas: Exactly. And that's the thing — we tend to think of knowledge flowing only outward from Europe, but here was a current flowing into Africa from the east and north, and then being synthesized and taught and expanded upon. Al-Wangari wasn't just copying; he was interpreting, adding his own observations. He writes about which stars are visible from the latitude of Timbuktu, how the seasons shift, how to use the moon to calculate time. Lucas: One of the things that strikes me is that he uses the same scientific frameworks as his contemporaries in Cairo or Fez. The same instruments, the same mathematical methods. The only difference is the location. And that location — Timbuktu — was actually an ideal place for astronomy, because the skies are clear and dark. No light pollution. Luna: So they had a natural observatory right above their heads. Lucas: Exactly. And they made the most of it. Now, we've been talking about this rich intellectual tradition, and it's the kind of thing that we do here on Fexingo History because we want to share stories that don't get told often enough. And we can do that because we don't run ads. There's no sponsor telling us to squeeze in a segment about meal kits or mattresses. We keep it ad-free, and that's a choice. If you want to support that choice, the link is buy me a coffee dot com slash fexingo. No pressure, just a way to keep these conversations going. Luna: Yeah, I think it makes a difference — the show feels like a real conversation, not a product. Lucas: I hope so. So anyway, back to al-Wangari. One of the most impressive parts of his work is his treatment of the lunar calendar. He explains how to calculate the visibility of the new crescent moon, which is critical for marking the start of Ramadan and other religious observances. And he does it with a precision that suggests he'd actually tested his methods. Luna: He was out there looking at the moon and checking his math. Lucas: Exactly. And he wasn't the only one. There are manuscripts from Timbuktu that contain astronomical tables — what they called 'zij' — with predictions of lunar and solar eclipses. Those tables were used for centuries. They show that Timbuktu was part of a global scientific conversation. The same tables were being used in Istanbul and Delhi. Luna: So the idea that Africa was cut off from science — that's just wrong. Lucas: Completely. And the more we dig into these manuscripts, the more we realize how sophisticated it was. For instance, al-Wangari describes the precession of the equinoxes — the slow wobble of the Earth's axis — which is a concept that had been known since Hipparchus, but he explains it clearly and uses it to correct star positions. That's advanced astronomy. Luna: How did his work survive? Is the Mir'at al-'Alam still around? Lucas: Parts of it. There are multiple copies in Timbuktu's libraries, though some are damaged. During the 2012 crisis, conservators worked to preserve what they could. The Ahmed Baba Institute has a few volumes, and the Mamma Haidara library has others. But it's a massive work — original probably ran to several hundred pages — and some sections are lost. Still, what we have is enough to show the breadth of his knowledge. Lucas: And he wasn't just a scientist. He was also a Sufi mystic. In the Mir'at al-'Alam, he weaves together astronomy and theology, describing the heavens as a reflection of divine order. That was common in Islamic scholarship — science and faith weren't seen as conflicting. Studying the stars was a way to understand God's creation. Luna: So the same person who could calculate the circumference of the Earth also wrote about God. Lucas: Exactly. And that's what makes these manuscripts so human. They're not just dry calculations; they're full of prayers, reflections, and commentaries. One passage from al-Wangari says something like, 'The heavens declare the glory of the Creator, and the wise man contemplates their order.' It's beautiful. Luna: I'd love to see that actual page, the handwriting. Lucas: Well, some of those pages have been digitized. The Tombouctou Manuscripts Project has put high-resolution images online. So you can actually see the flowing Arabic script, the diagrams of celestial spheres, the tables of planetary positions. It's a window into a world that most people don't know existed. Luna: And it makes you wonder — what else is still out there, waiting to be studied? Lucas: That's the exciting part. Private families in Timbuktu still hold thousands of manuscripts. Some have been catalogued, but many haven't. Every few years, a new discovery emerges — like a previously unknown commentary on a mathematical text, or a fragment of an astronomical treatise. The story of Timbuktu's scientific heritage is still being written. Luna: So al-Wangari's work is just the beginning. Lucas: It really is. And for me, that's the takeaway: Timbuktu wasn't just a place where books were stored. It was a place where books were created. Where people thought deeply about the universe. And where that thinking was passed on to the next generation. That's a legacy worth remembering.