Latest / The Songhai Empire: Africa's Powerful Forgotten Kingdom — Fexingo History / Songhai's Astronomical Legacy: Timbuktu's Lost Observatories
Transcript
- Lucas: So, we've talked a lot about Sankore as a center of law, theology, and literature. But there's one area that doesn't get nearly enough attention — Songhai's astronomical tradition. Timbuktu wasn't just a place where scholars memorized texts; they were actively observing the night sky, calculating eclipses, and mapping the stars with a precision that would have impressed anyone in the Islamic world or Europe. Luna: Really? I thought astronomy in West Africa was mostly practical — like using the stars for navigation or seasonal calendars. Lucas: That was definitely part of it, especially for farmers and traders along the Niger. But at Sankore, scholars were engaged in theoretical astronomy as well. They studied works like the Taqrib al-Maqsud by Ahmad al-Tifashi, who was a native of Timbuktu and wrote an entire treatise on the motions of the planets and the calculation of lunar phases. And they didn't just read — they observed. They used instruments like the astrolabe and the quadrant, which they built themselves. Luna: Wait — they were actually building astrolabes in Timbuktu? Lucas: They were. And the evidence is in the manuscripts that survived. One of the most famous is a work by a scholar named al-Qalasadi, who was originally from Andalusia but spent time in Timbuktu. He wrote about the construction and use of the astrolabe in a book called Mukhtasar fi ilm al-falak — 'A Summary of the Science of the Heavens'. The manuscript includes diagrams and instructions that show a deep understanding of spherical astronomy. Luna: So this wasn't just copying from Arabic texts — they were actually adapting and building instruments locally. Lucas: Exactly. And what's remarkable is that this tradition continued even after the Saadian invasion. Some of the most detailed astronomical manuscripts from Timbuktu date to the 17th century, after the empire had fallen. The scholars were preserving and transmitting knowledge under very difficult conditions. Luna: I remember you mentioning the 1492 solar eclipse in an earlier episode — that must have been a huge event for astronomers at Sankore. Lucas: It was. The eclipse happened on March 7, 1492, and it was visible across West Africa. The timing was extraordinary because it occurred just as Askia Muhammad was consolidating his power after overthrowing Sonni Ali's son. The Tarikh al-Sudan records that people saw it as an omen — and the astronomers at Sankore would have been able to predict it using their tables. That kind of prediction gave them enormous prestige. Luna: Did they have any kind of observatory, or was it just open-air observation? Lucas: There's no evidence of a permanent observatory building like the ones in Maragheh or Samarkand. But what they did have was something perhaps more interesting: a tradition of collaborative observation. Scholars would gather on rooftops or in open courtyards, using instruments made of brass or wood. And they kept meticulous records. The manuscripts show that they tracked planetary positions over decades, which is exactly what you need to refine your tables. Luna: So it's like a hidden chapter in the history of astronomy — a West African tradition that most people have never heard of. Lucas: That's a great way to put it. And the reason it's hidden is partly because of the Saadian invasion. When Judar Pasha's forces sacked Timbuktu in 1591, they didn't just destroy buildings — they scattered the scholarly community. Many manuscripts were burned or buried, and the intellectual networks that had sustained this tradition were broken. But enough survived — hidden in family libraries, in the desert — that we can still recover some of what was lost. Luna: If today was actually useful to you, the way these stay ad-free is listener support — buy me a coffee dot com slash fexingo. It really does keep us going. Lucas: Yeah, and it means we can keep digging into these stories that often get overlooked. Anyway — one of the most fascinating manuscripts is a set of tables for predicting lunar eclipses, written by a scholar named Muhammad al-Kashinawi. He was active in the 17th century, after the invasion, and his work shows that the tradition didn't die overnight. He was using methods that were current in the Islamic world, but he also incorporated local observation. Luna: So even under occupation, they were still doing science. Lucas: Exactly. And it wasn't just theoretical. There was a practical side too — astrology, for instance. The courts of Songhai, like many Islamic courts, employed astrologers to determine auspicious times for battles or coronations. But the scholarly astronomers at Sankore were often critical of astrology, seeing it as distinct from the mathematical science of the stars. The Tarikh al-Sudan mentions a scholar who refused to cast horoscopes because he considered it forbidden. So there was a real intellectual debate. Luna: That reminds me of the tension in Europe between astronomy and astrology at the same time — but it's happening in Timbuktu, which is incredible. Lucas: And it's a reminder that West Africa was part of a global conversation. The scholars of Timbuktu corresponded with scholars in Cairo, Fez, and even India. Manuscripts traveled across the Sahara. So when we talk about the 'Islamic Golden Age', it's important to remember that it wasn't just centered in Baghdad or Cordoba — it reached deep into the Sahel. Luna: What about the instruments — do any of the actual astrolabes survive? Lucas: A few have been found in private collections, but most were likely melted down or lost. However, we have detailed descriptions in manuscripts. For example, one text describes a quadrant made of brass with a radius of about 30 centimeters, engraved with scales for measuring the altitude of the sun and stars. And there are instructions for making a simple wooden instrument called a 'table of shadows' — essentially a sundial — that was used for timekeeping during the day. Luna: So even without a formal observatory, they had a working toolkit. Lucas: Absolutely. And the toolkit included their own eyes, carefully trained. One manuscript describes how to use a star — like Sirius, which is very bright in the Sahelian sky — to determine the time of night. That kind of practical knowledge was passed down orally as well as in writing. It's a reminder that astronomy was woven into daily life, not just an academic pursuit. Luna: I've heard that some scholars in Timbuktu even debated whether the earth was round. Is that true? Lucas: It is. And that debate wasn't just theoretical — it had implications for prayer times and the direction of Mecca. The consensus among Sankore scholars, following the mainstream Islamic tradition, was that the earth is spherical. But there were dissenters who argued for a flat earth based on a literal reading of certain Quranic verses. So you had a genuine scientific controversy playing out in the classrooms of Timbuktu. Luna: That's exactly the kind of detail that makes history come alive — real people arguing about the shape of the world. Lucas: Exactly. And this wasn't a fringe debate — it was part of the curriculum. Students at Sankore would have been exposed to both sides. The university system encouraged dialectical reasoning, so you had to be able to defend your position. That's why the manuscripts are so rich — they record not just conclusions, but arguments. Luna: Who was the most famous astronomer from Timbuktu that we know by name? Lucas: Probably Ahmad al-Tifashi, the one I mentioned earlier. He lived in the 15th century and wrote several works, not just on astronomy but also on gemstones and mineralogy. His Taqrib al-Maqsud is a comprehensive guide to the celestial sphere, including a catalogue of stars with their Arabic and Berber names. That's significant because it shows a blending of Islamic and local knowledge — some of those star names are indigenous to the Sahel. Luna: So he was synthesizing multiple traditions. That must have made his work valuable far beyond Timbuktu. Lucas: It did. Copies of his work have been found as far away as Morocco and Egypt. And the way he wrote — in clear, accessible Arabic — suggests he intended it for a broad audience. He wasn't just writing for other scholars; he wanted merchants, travelers, and farmers to be able to use his tables. That's the practical side of Songhai astronomy. Luna: What about the role of women? Were there any female astronomers in Timbuktu? Lucas: It's difficult to say, because the surviving manuscripts overwhelmingly reflect male authors. But we know that women were educated in the sciences. For example, the scholar Aisha al-Fulaniya, whom we discussed in an earlier episode, was known to have studied astronomy. There are also records of women copying astronomical manuscripts — so even if they weren't publishing original research, they were part of the knowledge chain. Luna: That's a good reminder that the written record isn't always the whole story. Lucas: Exactly. And one of the things I love about this topic is how much we still don't know. The manuscripts are being rediscovered and digitized, but there are thousands still in private hands. Every new find has the potential to reshape our understanding of Songhai's intellectual world. Luna: So in a way, the story of Songhai astronomy is still being written. Lucas: It is. And that's what makes it so exciting. We're not just looking back at a closed chapter — we're recovering a lost tradition. And with each manuscript that comes to light, we get a clearer picture of a civilization that was far more sophisticated than many people realize.