Latest / Mansa Musa: The Richest Man Who Ever Lived — Fexingo History / The Griot Who Remembered Mansa Musa: Jeli Mamoudou Kouyaté
Transcript
- Lucas: If you've been following these conversations about Mansa Musa and the Mali Empire, you've probably heard me reference the griots — the jeliw — quite a bit. And I think it's time we actually sat down and talked about who they were, and why they matter so much for everything we know about this period. Luna: Yeah, because most of what we know from earlier episodes came from Arab geographers like Al-Umari or Ibn Battuta. But that's not the only source, right? Lucas: Exactly. The jeliw were the living archives of the Mande world. They memorised genealogies, epic poems, legal precedents — everything. And the most famous of them in modern times is a man named Jeli Mamoudou Kouyaté. In the 1950s, he recited the Epic of Sundiata to a Guinean historian, D.T. Niane, who transcribed it and published it in French. That book — Sundiata: An Epic of Old Mali — is how most of the world first encountered the story of the Lion King of Mali. Luna: Wait — so you're saying that the story of Sundiata, which is the foundation of the Mali Empire, was only written down in the 1950s? Lucas: Yes, that's exactly right. Before that, it was passed down orally from griot to griot for seven centuries. Kouyaté himself claimed to be a descendant of the original griot of Sundiata Keita — a man named Balla Fasséké, who was the first jeli to serve the Keita dynasty. According to tradition, Sundiata himself appointed Balla Fasséké as his griot after the Battle of Kirina in 1235. That's the battle where Sundiata defeated the sorcerer-king Soumaoro Kanté and founded the Mali Empire. Luna: So the role of the griot isn't just a job — it's a hereditary position going back centuries. Lucas: Exactly. The Kouyaté and Diabaté families are still famous griot lineages today. Being a jeli was a vocation. You didn't just decide to become one — you were born into it, and you underwent years of rigorous training. You had to learn the names of the kings, the battles, the marriages, the land grants — everything. And you had to master an instrument, usually the kora, which is a 21-string harp-lute, or the balafon, which is like a wooden xylophone. The music wasn't just entertainment — it was a mnemonic device, a way to encode the history into melody and rhythm. Luna: So when Kouyaté recited the epic to Niane, was he singing it? Lucas: He was performing it, yes. Niane described it as a chant — rhythmic, with pauses for dramatic effect, and with gestures. The whole performance could take hours, even days if they did the full version. What Niane captured was the prose translation, but the original is poetry. And Kouyaté didn't just recite events — he added praise, commentary, even jokes. Griots were also social commentators. They could praise a chief for his generosity or subtly criticise him for his stinginess, all within the performance. Luna: It sounds like they had a lot of power, in a way. Lucas: They did, but it came with strict rules. In the Kouroukan Fouga — the constitution of the Mali Empire, supposedly proclaimed at the assembly that confirmed Sundiata as emperor — the role of the griot was clearly defined. They were not to take up arms, they were to be impartial, and their word was to be trusted. They were the diplomats, the advisors, the historians. A king who ignored his griot was a fool. And when Mansa Musa went on his famous hajj, he almost certainly had griots with him. Al-Umari doesn't mention them by name, but the chronicles from Cairo describe the musicians and poets who accompanied the caravan. Luna: So what do the griot traditions tell us about Mansa Musa that the written sources don't? Lucas: A lot, actually. For instance, the epic tradition gives us the names and deeds of earlier kings that we get nowhere else. It tells us about the founding of Niani, the capital, and about the rise of the Keita clan. And more specifically for Mansa Musa, there's a tradition that he was not the direct heir — that his predecessor, a king named Mansa Kunting, was murdered, and that Mansa Musa took the throne. The epic doesn't dwell on the details, but it suggests a power struggle. Also, the griots emphasise his piety and his building projects — they say he built mosques and schools everywhere he went, which aligns with what al-Sahili did. Luna: But are the epics historically accurate? I mean, they're poetry. Lucas: That's the big question. Historians debate this. Some argue that the epics are essentially historical sources, because the griots were trained to preserve information faithfully. Others point out that the epics change over time — that each griot adds or subtracts elements to suit his audience. But here's the thing: even when the epic contradicts written sources, it's still valuable. It tells us what the Mande people themselves believed about their past. And sometimes, archaeological discoveries have confirmed details from the epics. For example, the epic mentions that Sundiata's mother Sogolon was ugly and had a hump — that might be symbolic, but it's a specific detail that has been passed down. Luna: So it's not just 'history' — it's memory, identity, art. Lucas: Exactly. And that brings me to a really important point. The griot tradition is endangered. With the spread of literacy and electronic media, fewer young people are learning the old skills. The kora players are still around, but the full epic recitations — the long, all-night performances — are rare now. There are efforts to record them, like the ones made by Niane and others, but it's not the same as a living tradition. Luna: That's a real loss. I mean, we're a history podcast, and we rely on written records. But there's so much that never got written down. Lucas: And that's a great segue to something I want to mention. You know, this show exists because of a small group of listeners who chip in monthly through buy me a coffee dot com slash fexingo. It's what keeps us ad-free and able to do deep dives like this. If you find value in these conversations, that's the simplest way to help. No pressure, but it's how we keep going. Luna: Yeah, I think it's worth saying — we don't have sponsors, so it really is about the community. Even a small contribution makes a difference. Lucas: Okay, back to the griots. There's one more thing I want to share. The Epic of Sundiata isn't the only text. There's also the Tarikh al-Sudan, written in Timbuktu in the 17th century by Abd al-Rahman al-Sadi, which includes oral traditions. And for Mansa Musa specifically, there's a tradition that he was so wealthy that when he passed through a village, he'd throw gold coins to the children. The griots still sing about that. Luna: That image — the king scattering gold — it's almost too perfect. But it's what people remember. Lucas: And that's the power of oral history. It's not just facts — it's the meaning behind the facts. The griots don't just tell you that Mansa Musa was rich. They tell you that he was generous beyond measure, that he built mosques, that he brought scholars to Mali. And in doing so, they define what a good king is. That's a moral narrative, not just a historical one. Luna: So when we study Mansa Musa, we're actually studying two histories: the one from the written sources and the one from the griots. Lucas: Yes, and ideally we triangulate between them. For example, on the question of how many mosques Mansa Musa actually built — Al-Umari says he built a mosque in every district he visited, but the epic tradition says he built five great mosques. Neither is probably exact, but together they give us a sense of scale. And that's why the jeliw are indispensable. Without them, we'd have a skeleton of dates and names, but no flesh, no blood, no heart. Luna: It makes me wonder — will future historians have the same problem with us? We leave so much digital data, but do we leave oral traditions? Lucas: That's a great question. Actually, some communities are now recording their elders' stories as part of cultural preservation projects. It's a way of keeping the oral tradition alive in a new medium. But it's not the same as a live performance. The griot's art is interactive — the audience calls out, the griot responds. That's lost in a recording. Luna: So maybe the best thing we can do is to keep telling their stories, in our own way. Like right now. Lucas: Exactly. And that's what I hope we've done today — not just talked about Mansa Musa, but about how we know what we know. The griots are the unsung heroes of this history. And Jeli Mamoudou Kouyaté, by allowing his version of the epic to be written down, gave the world a gift. But I always feel a pang of loss when I read it, because I know I'm reading only a shadow of what he actually performed. Luna: There's a phrase in the epic that I love: 'I am the word, and the word is me.' That's the griot's identity. Lucas: Exactly. And that's a perfect note to end on. So thanks for joining us on this deep dive. Until next time.