French enterprise in Africa

by Hourst

As for the project of pressing the negroes into the service for the suppression of the Tuaregs, it is but a Utopian idea, and that a very dangerous one, for the Songhay race is too debased by its three centuries of servitude to have any real stamina left.

I need scarcely point out the great mistake implied in the suggestion: We ought to favour the black at the expense of the Tuaregs, because the former are producers as tillers of the soil, and the latter are useless idlers, for the Tuareg is as hard a worker as the negro; he works in a different direction, that is all—breeding flocks and herds instead of growing cereals. When the means of transport are sufficient for it to be easy to get to and from Timbuktu, it will be the Tuareg, whose camels will carry the gum harvest into the town, it will be he who will sell skins and wool; in fact, he will turn out to be the greater producer of the two races after all.

The Tuaregs have been accused of being cruel, but this is another grave error. They alone perhaps of all African races do not kill their prisoners after a battle. One must have been present at the taking of a village by negroes to realize the awful butchery with which the victory ends. Everybody not fit to be sold as a slave is put to the sword. The throats of the old men are cut, and little children too young to walk have their heads smashed against stones. Tuaregs, on the other hand, are quite incapable of such atrocities. When we passed Sinder, Boker Wandieïdu, chief of the Logamaten, had more than two hundred Toucouleur prisoners in his camp, who had been taken in war two years before, and he was feeding and looking after them all. After the fatal battle with the Tacubaos, in which Colonel Bonnier was killed, the two officers who alone escaped from the scene of the combat, Captains Regard and Nigotte, fled in different directions. Nigotte reached Timbuktu, and was saved, but Regard went westwards, and was taken prisoner by the negroes of the Dongoi villages, who took him to the Tenguereguif Tuaregs. In spite, however, of the fact that the excitement of the battle had scarcely subsided, these Tuaregs would not themselves slay the unfortunate Frenchman. “Do with him what you will,” they said; and the negroes killed him.

Moreover, it has been said that the Tuaregs are fanatics, but I have never seen them prostrate themselves or fast. It is, however, unfortunately quite true that the marabouts exercise a great influence over them; but it is the kind of ascendency that clever people always obtain over big children, such as the Tuaregs are, and such as sorcerers get over the superstitious. “You are Christians, and we ought not to have anything to do with infidels,” Yunes said to us at Tosaye. A good excuse, and one that he could not help laughing at himself. Yunes, I am glad to say, never really followed the precepts of Islam any more than did any of his fellow-countrymen.

How does it come about that, left to themselves, with scarcely any contact with more advanced civilizations, constantly exposed to the malevolent influence of Mahommedanism, and by their very nature peculiarly susceptible to the temptations which appeal to the violently disposed, the Tuaregs have yet managed to keep their high moral character. Once more we find a parallel for their position in the Middle Ages. It is the reverence they feel for women, to whose gentler influence they yield, which has been their salvation. Just as the lady of the feudal chief, brutal and hot-tempered, coarse and savage though he often was, knew how to soothe his worst passions, and to inspire him with an ambition to excel in those noble tasks of which she herself was to be the reward, so does the Tuareg woman in her tent, chanting praises of the mighty deeds of the lord of her heart, rouse in that lord all chivalrous instincts, and inspire him with a love for all that is best and highest in life on earth.

The Tuareg—and here he differs essentially from all Mahommedans—takes only one wife, but she is literally his better half. Moreover, a woman is free to choose her own husband. During our stay at Say, we were told that Reichala, daughter of Madidu, was about to marry the son of El-Yacin, one of the chiefs of the most powerful tribe of the Confederation. I sent some presents on this joyful occasion. A month later an envoy from the chief of the Awellimiden told us that the young lady, in spite of all her parents could do, had refused her fiance. Her will was respected, and even the Amenokal himself would not have forced her to comply.

Her future husband once chosen, a Tuareg girl has perfect liberty to see him when she likes, and will sometimes travel on her camel more than fifty miles to pay him a visit. The Tuaregs themselves say that no bad results ensue; but there are three words for bastard in the Tamschek language, and if it be true that the abundance of expressions for a thing in any tongue proves the prevalence of that thing, we shall know what to think. However, when a Tuareg woman is married, however free and easy she may have been beforehand, she is a model of discreet behaviour. The Tuaregs do not brook any tampering with their honour, and a deceived husband will never hesitate to wash out his shame in blood.

A TUAREG WOMAN.

Still the Tuareg woman is allowed to have friends of the opposite sex, and, as in the days of the Troubadours, her praises are sung in many a charming rondeau. These male friends, who correspond to the Italian cicisbeos, draw their swords in honour of the fair lady of their choice, and shout her name as a war-cry as they fling themselves upon the foe in the clash of combat. The woman, in her turn, celebrates the exploits of her cicisbeo in verse, and she adorns his leather shield and the scabbard of his sword with the work of her hands. All, however, ends there, and we are irresistibly reminded of Petrarch’s songs in honour of his Laura when she was a stout, middle-aged woman, the mother of seven children.