Latest / Timbuktu: Africa's Forgotten Center of Knowledge — Fexingo History / The Famine That Almost Erased Timbuktu
Transcript
- Lucas: So we've talked a lot about the intellectual and economic golden ages of Timbuktu — the scholars, the libraries, the trade in salt and gold and manuscripts. But there's a darker side to the city's history that doesn't get mentioned as often: the famines that nearly wiped it off the map. Luna: Famines? I don't think we've touched on that at all. Lucas: No, we haven't. And they were catastrophic. The most severe ones hit in the 1730s and — even worse — in 1747. Now, Timbuktu sits right on the edge of the Sahara, dependent on the Niger River's flood cycle and on long-distance trade for grain. When both failed, the results were brutal. Lucas: The Tarikh al-Fattash, one of the essential chronicles of the Niger Bend, records that in 1153 of the Hijra — that's 1740-41 CE already severe drought. But the real disaster came in 1747. A manuscript from the Ahmed Baba Institute describes people eating acacia gum, boiled hides, and even dirt to survive. Luna: Boiled hides — that's desperate. Lucas: That's famine-level desperation. The price of millet skyrocketed — there are accounts of a single sack selling for the price of a slave. The Arma, the ruling military caste descended from the Moroccan Saadian invasion, controlled much of the stored grain. They hoarded it, selling only at exorbitant prices, while the common people starved. Lucas: But here's where the story isn't just about suffering. The religious leaders of the Qadiriyya Sufi order, particularly the Kunta sheikhs, stepped in. They opened their own granaries and distributed food to anyone who came — regardless of tribe or status. Sidi al-Mukhtar al-Kunti, though slightly later, was inspired by the example of his predecessors in that famine. Luna: The Kunta sheikhs — they were the ones who also mediated conflicts, right? Lucas: Exactly. They were both spiritual and political leaders, and their authority gave them the power to challenge the Arma's greed. Manuscript sources say they preached against hoarding and even organized caravans to bring grain from the more fertile regions around Jenne, about 400 kilometers southwest, down the Niger. Lucas: But the famine still killed thousands. Timbuktu's population, which had been around 100,000 in its heyday, probably dropped by a third or more. Many survivors fled to other towns along the river, some to Gao or even as far as the Hausa states. Luna: So it wasn't just a natural disaster — it was made worse by human choices. Lucas: Absolutely. The Arma's hoarding was a political decision, not just market economics. And the famine left deep scars. The manuscript trade itself suffered — scholars sold their libraries to buy food. Some of the most precious manuscripts we now have in collections like the Mamma Haidara were acquired in those desperate years by merchants who saw them as collateral. Lucas: European travelers who passed through in the following decades — like the Scottish explorer Gordon Laing and the Frenchman René Caillié — noted that the city had never fully recovered. Caillié arrived in 1828 and described Timbuktu as a 'mass of ill-looking houses' surrounded by desert. He didn't see the thriving metropolis of Mansa Musa's time. Luna: So the famines were a turning point — a moment from which Timbuktu never really bounced back. Lucas: That's the argument. The 1747 famine broke the city's economic backbone. The combination of drought, hoarding, and the collapse of long-distance trade after the Saadian invasion a century and a half earlier meant that Timbuktu's role as a center of learning and commerce was permanently diminished. It became a shadow of itself. Luna: And yet, the manuscripts survived — barely. Lucas: Many did, thanks to scholars and families who hid them in trunks or buried them in the desert. And that's part of why we know about the famine. Those same manuscripts, like the Tarikh al-Fattash and the letters of the Kunta sheikhs, contain the firsthand accounts. Lucas: It's a reminder that history isn't just about triumphs — it's also about how people endure catastrophe. And for Timbuktu, the 1747 famine was the worst of those catastrophes. Luna: You know, speaking of enduring — this show is ad-free and listener-supported. If you've gotten something out of these episodes, a couple of dollars a month at buy me a coffee dot com slash fexingo genuinely makes a difference. It keeps us going without any commercial interruption. Lucas: Yeah, it really does. And we're grateful to everyone who chips in. It means we can keep digging into these stories — whether it's about famines or scholars or the salt trade — without worrying about sponsors. Luna: Exactly. So, back to 1747 — you mentioned that some scholars sold their libraries. Do we know of any specific manuscripts that changed hands during the famine? Lucas: We do. One of the most famous is a copy of the Qur'an that had been in the Aqit family for generations. It was sold to a Moroccan merchant for a fraction of its value. Today it's in the Bibliothèque Nationale in Paris. But many others simply vanished — destroyed by weather, termites, or used as fuel. Lucas: So the famine wasn't just a human tragedy — it was an intellectual one. We lost works that probably contained unique observations on astronomy, law, and local history. The loss is immeasurable. Luna: That's heartbreaking. But at least we're talking about it now, right? Making sure it isn't forgotten. Lucas: That's why we do this. The famines of Timbuktu are a chapter that deserves to be remembered — not for the suffering alone, but for the resilience of the people who lived through it and the lessons it holds for how fragile a great city can be. Luna: Well said. Thanks for bringing this to light. Lucas: Thank you for listening. That's all for this episode of Fexingo History. Until next time, take care.