Latest / Timbuktu: Africa's Forgotten Center of Knowledge — Fexingo History / Timbuktu's Herbalists: The Medical Manuscripts of the Sahel
Transcript
- Lucas: For anyone coming with us through these conversations about West Africa—we've talked about the salt trade, the gold trade, the scholars, the astronomers. But there's one thread we haven't pulled on yet: the medical manuscripts of Timbuktu. Luna: Medical manuscripts? Like, doctors writing prescriptions in the 16th century? Lucas: Exactly. And these weren't just copies of Greek or Arabic texts—they were original works that blended Islamic medicine, which itself drew on Galen and Hippocrates, with indigenous West African knowledge. The result was a sophisticated pharmacopoeia that treated everything from malaria to snakebite. Lucas: And honestly, if today was worth a coffee to you, that's the link—buy me a coffee dot com slash fexingo. It's how we keep this ad-free and digging into corners like this. Luna: Yeah, that kind of deep-dive is exactly why people support the show. Lucas: So let's start with the key figure: Abd al-Rahman al-Sa'di. You might know him as the author of the Tarikh al-Sudan, but he was also a physician. He wrote a medical treatise called something like 'The Book of Healing Herbs'—though the actual title is longer. Luna: Wait—the historian who wrote about Songhai's fall also practiced medicine? Lucas: Yes. In Timbuktu, many scholars were polymaths. Al-Sa'di studied at Sankore, where the curriculum included logic, astronomy, law—and medicine. They taught the Canon of Medicine by Ibn Sina, the Persian physician. But they also studied local plants. Lucas: Al-Sa'di's medical manuscript lists dozens of plants by their Arabic and local Soninke names. For example, he describes using the fruit of the balanites tree—called 'heglig' in Arabic—to treat malaria. And he's right: modern studies show balanites has antimalarial compounds. Luna: So they were doing legitimate pharmacology, not just superstition? Lucas: Absolutely. They operated within a humoral framework—hot, cold, dry, moist—but they tested remedies. Another example: acacia nilotica, which they called 'qarad', was used for dysentery. The bark has tannins that bind to toxins. It's still used in rural Mali today. Lucas: And then there's the role of women. In the Sahel, there's a tradition of female healers called 'boka'—a word that might come from the Soninke 'boka' meaning 'medicine woman'. Some of these women were literate and wrote their own herbal recipes in Arabic script. Luna: So the medical knowledge wasn't exclusive to Sankore? It was community-based? Lucas: Exactly. Sankore produced the theoretical texts, but the boka transmitted practical knowledge orally and in writing. Some manuscripts from private libraries in Timbuktu include recipes for childbirth, eye infections, and even surgical procedures like cauterization. Lucas: One of the most intriguing manuscripts is from the Mamma Haidara Library, catalogued as MS 243. It's a 17th-century compendium of remedies for 'every ailment from head to foot'—the author lists 140 diseases and their treatments, often with multiple options. Luna: A hundred and forty diseases? That's more than most modern first-aid guides. Lucas: It includes things like 'for a fever, take the leaves of the tamarind tree and boil them, then drink the water'—which is exactly what modern herbalists recommend. It also covers mental health: 'for sadness, speak with a friend and drink honey water.' Simple but sound. Lucas: Now, how did these medical manuscripts survive? Many were hidden during the 2012 jihadist occupation. The Ahmed Baba Institute and private families smuggled thousands of texts to Bamako. Among them were dozens of medical works that had been studied for centuries. Luna: So these weren't just ancient curiosities—they were living texts, still used? Lucas: Yes. In fact, some of the healers who fled Timbuktu in 2012 took their manuscripts with them and continued treating patients in refugee camps. The knowledge never died. Now, digitization projects are making them available online, so researchers can study the ingredients. Lucas: For instance, one manuscript describes a treatment for guinea worm disease—a parasitic infection common in the Sahel. The remedy involves applying a paste of crushed leaves from the 'nere' tree, which is the African locust bean. Modern science confirms its anti-inflammatory properties. Luna: So this is a real lost treasure of global medical history. Why isn't it better known? Lucas: Partly because the manuscripts were scattered and vulnerable. But also because of a bias that real medicine only came from Europe or the Middle East. In fact, Timbuktu's physicians were part of a global network—they corresponded with scholars in Cairo, Fez, and even India. Lucas: Take the example of 'al-Suwaydi', a 15th-century physician from Baghdad whose work on poisons was copied in Timbuktu. The Sankore scholars added marginal notes comparing his remedies to local plants—so it was a dialogue between traditions. Luna: Were there any famous medical controversies or rivalries in Timbuktu? Lucas: There's a story from the Tarikh al-Sudan about a physician named 'Muhammad al-Wangari' who was accused of using 'un-Islamic' methods—like amulets and charms. He defended himself by arguing that the Prophet himself allowed the use of natural remedies. Lucas: That debate—between 'prophetic medicine' based on hadith and 'rational medicine' based on humoral theory—was alive in Timbuktu. Some scholars argued that you couldn't treat a broken leg with prayer alone; you needed to set the bone. Luna: So they had a version of the science versus faith debate, centuries before the Enlightenment. Lucas: Exactly. And the manuscripts show that most Sankore scholars took a pragmatic approach. They used both—prayer for the spirit, herbs for the body. One text has a prayer to recite while applying a poultice. Mind and body together. Lucas: Now, let's bring it forward. Today, the Timbuktu medical manuscripts are being studied by ethnobotanists looking for new drugs. A 2019 study in the Journal of Ethnopharmacology tested 20 plants from al-Sa'di's treatise and found that 18 had measurable antimicrobial activity. Luna: So the old knowledge might lead to new medicines. That's incredible. Lucas: It is. And it reminds us that Timbuktu wasn't just a city of books—it was a city of healers. The manuscripts are a testament to a medical tradition that blended faith, observation, and a deep knowledge of the land. Lucas: If you want to see some of these texts, the Mamma Haidara Library has a small online collection. The pages are beautiful—Arabic script with diagrams of plants, and sometimes notes in Soninke or Tamasheq. It's a window into a world we're only beginning to rediscover.