Perhapses, Possibilities, and Assumptions in Domingos Alvares

James Sweet’s Domingos Alvares is a fascinating book that makes a significant historiographical contribution. His argument that Alvares’s healing was a way to contest the “European imperial power” (6). It had never really considered how it is that so many of the African voices find their way into our historical documents, but Sweet makes a great point that the majority of them find their way into the documentation through adopting “European” culture, modes of thought, or its imperial project—or, playing the European game. Sweet shows how Domingos—and many others like him who have avoided detection—contested that game through holding onto their own cultural outlook and practices while adapting them to their new environment. This approach is different than just showing how slaves expressed their own agency, but also shows how they maintained separate intellectual world from their oppressors.

Some of the method Sweet employed, however, discomforted me. I understand he had a dearth of sources for the early stages of Domingos life, but there were times when I thought his conclusions less than supported even taking into account Sweet’s use of terms like perhaps and possibly. In particular, I found Sweet’s discussion of Domingo’s adoption of Christianity or parts of Christianity less than convincing. Domingos becomes a generalization himself as his mentality and approaches is surmised from Vodun theology (47-50). His polytheistic religion, for instance, made him open to new beliefs (48). The hierarchy of belief in Catholicism also would have appealed to Domingos, Sweet tells us, because it was similar to the Vodun hierarchy, and Domingos probably viewed his priest as a peer because he too held esoteric knowledge of his faith (49). And Domingos likely “recognized and respected” his new name (while maintaining his old one) because it was a badge of honor (50). Certainly, all of these are possible, but they are based on generalizations of the Vodun religion and how it found expression in its adherents in theory. In this way, Domingos becomes a sort of caricature of the Vodun healer interacting with Christianity, the outcomes of which are logically surmised. Put another way, the basis of Vodun beliefs are theorized on how they would interact with Christian practice. But what we do know about religions is that they are never just a set of beliefs but also infused with cultural inclinations, practices, and world views that are both temporally and terrestrially dependent.

Preceding the discussion on Christianity, Sweet directs the reader to works by Thornton and himself on Catholicism's influence on slaves from Kongo and Angola in an endnote, but he never uses specific examples from those works that would substantiate his “perhaps” claims better. In other words, establishing his assumptions in other empirical practices rather than logical surmise.

Another example is the walk in Rio de Janeiro that Domingos takes, for which Sweet even provided a map. After multiple readings (text and notes), I remain unsure if it was a real walk or a hypothetical one used simply to describe the area in which Domingos lived (81-88). Many of the citations focus specifically on things Domingos might have seen, but not concretely that such a walk existed. Perhaps, I’m overlooking something, but if the walk never took place, I do not think this is the most judicious way to discuss the environment in which Domingos lived.

To be clear, I’m not uncomfortable with his use of perhaps and likely or probably, but the justifications for it. I do understand why he does it, especially in the earlier parts of the books (of which Sweet forewarns the reader). Indeed, Sweet’s evidentiary basis becomes much stronger has the book goes on.  I would characterize my thoughts on his approach in these earlier chapters as uncomfortably accepting. These criticisms aside, I found Sweet’s book to be fascinating and important especially due to the significance of its overall argument.

The Psychology of Slavery

                James Sweet does something very interesting in his work Domingos Alvares: African Healing, and the Intellectual History of the Atlantic World. While reading, I was quickly reminded of my final last semester for Historiography in which a certain grouping of second wave feminists turned towards psychoanalsis as a means to understand Gender History. Though James Sweet’s analysis of the African slave trade and Domingos doesn’t enter such a realm, the connection in my mind is distinct. In adhering towards his goal of understanding “the ways that Africans and their descendants engaged European institutions and ideas, [and] employing them for their own ends” (4) he makes it clear that he wishes to observe the events surrounding Domingos from a heavily African viewpoint. (41) In doing so, something new arises that I feel we haven’t encountered to such a degree in the works covered thus far. This is the ‘psychology’ of slavery.

                I hear have used the term psychology in a broad sense to mean that he places much emphasis on the minds of the enslaved. Mental health is described and brought up time and time again to such an extent that I find it core to much of Sweet’s analysis. To start with, he engages in an investigation into African identities in relation to their local religions or voduns and its connection with military conquest and the formation of new identities such as Mahi. Sweet correlates the military conquest of Dahomey to one based off of the psyche. He strips the events of their traditional materialistic investigations and applies to it the lens of the psyche.

                Mental health as a concept comes up again and again. He speaks of it during the conquests and the treks to the coast. The capture, enslavement, and transportation of slaves cost a psychological toll as much as it did physical and Sweet makes this well known. He accentuates this even further with the stories of perceived European cannibalism and the treatments of the slaves by the slavers. As these slaves arrive in their new places of work, they already start creating new experiences, new bonds, and new identities that reshape their sense of self. This directly impacts European institutions and ideologies. In a sense, as we have done several times, I would argue that Sweet believes in the power of ideas as the agent of historical change. He never rejects a materialistic understanding, but definitely adheres to the psyche.

                This brings up an interesting debate in historical analysis. As historians we are taught to stay out of the realm of psychology. We can better understand what people mean, intend, report, and portray. But, to delve into a specific individuals psychology is out of the realm of historical methodology for a number of reasons. I find it interesting, however, that more historians don’t utilize psychological approaches to populations and peoples. I mean this insofar as describing the slaves in such terminology as “depressed” and “ptsd”. It is quite evident, to me, that these peoples suffered greatly from such afflictions when put into such dire circumstances. To state that Domingos himself suffered from any of these mental afflictions would be purely conjecture from a historical analysis. This is self-evident, but I still believe these terms to be useful and yet wholly missing in such a dialogue. 

Trickster's Travels

Al-Hasan Al-Wazzan, though only a single man, is actually a fascinating look at the intersection between Muslim and Christian sects in what we now usually think of as the Middle East, and certain parts of the third world. Al-Wazzan, though not the only man to have traveled far and wide, is certainly a fascinating example of what it meant to travel, and what happened when one did, which is an interesting contrast to the idea that most people in history didn't venture further than five miles from where they were born. Al Wazzan's travels actually sound more like an adventure novel, with our protagonist wading his way through many different governments and meeting different people, even being captured and held hostage for periods of time. 

The only difference between Al-Wazzan's travels and any other adventurer is, of course, that he wrote them down. Al-Wazzan actually wrote a book about his travels called, rather uncreatively, "Descriptions of Africa." Though the author herself admits that the account is spotty at best, it does give rather great insight into some of the customs of the period in different parts of the world, and how they might look to an outsider, which gives us a great eye into the customs since someone who had grown up celebrating them would never think to write them down,assuming that they would perpetuate. It's interesting, because unlike some of the others that we have read that have questionably qualified as microhistories, this one almost certainly does. In fact, it's almost like an autobiography that's been curated by a historian, if that makes sense. 

Trickster History

Natalie Zemon Davis’ Trickster Travels is the story of al-Hasan al-Wazzan, an “extreme case” of early 16th century Muslim-Christian interaction and, as the title suggests, travels in the medieval world spanning Africa, the Mediterranean, and Iberia. Al-Wazzan is “extreme,” in other words, unusual, in that his experiences took him into diverse places, cultures, and circumstances, where he encountered some of the most powerful men of his time and used his diplomatic prowess to find his best possible standing while in captivity or “under the thumb” of some master. At least, that’s the premise of the book.

But is that really what it’s about? Davis cites al-Wazzan’s Description of Africa as the foundational document for her investigation into his life, but by her own admission, the contemporary record is full of contradictions, implausibilities, and periods of silence. What we end up with is a vivid and enthralling social history of the period and the region of al-Wazzan, but not the story of al-Wazzan and not his world through the lens of his own life, as we have had with other microhistories. It’s almost as if Davis approached this project determined to write a microhistory, but without actually having a subject that fully supported that endeavor.

“Throughout I have had to make use of the conditional—‘would have,’ ‘may have,’ ‘was likely to have’—and the speculative ‘perhaps,’” Davis states in her introduction (pg. 13). She is creating a “plausible” life story, but not necessarily a factual one. The facts are there, of course – she is not making up the history out of whole cloth, but the facts are those of the general history of 16th century North Africa, not of the life of one particular player in that history.

Trickster Travels is a social history of a prototypical 16th century North African man, albeit one with an extraordinary set of experiences. We get few personal details about the protagonist in the story, but we get plenty of details and insights into the environment in which such a man would have existed. Is it a microhistory? I think so, if the exception proves the rule. We can see what it is not: It is not a conventional, thematic, or regional history. It is certainly not a biography. It is not a religious history, a cultural history, or a political history, although there are aspects of all these woven into the narrative. The compelling narrative, and the inability to categorize it as anything else, leads to the conclusion that this is a microhistory, and a good one—and one unlike other works in the genre.

Al-Wazzan the Stepping Stone

     I found Natalie Zemon Davis's Trickster Travels to be absolutely fascinating.  However, while it seems to me that The Return of Martin Guerre could be considered to be in the "elite" tier when it comes to answering the question "What is a microhistory," Trickster Travels is probably a few spots lower.  To be fair, I don't remember Davis  ever using the term "microhistory" in her introduction, so it would be unfair to hold it against her that this is less of a microhistory than Martin Guerre.  She often uses Al-Wazzan as a stepping stone to talk about other aspects of African and European life, rather than using Al-Wazzan's experiences as a lens itself.  For example, in the chapter "Curiosity and Connections," Davis writes, "Once he was free to walk through the streets of Rome, Yuhanna al-Asas would have been quick to see and hear of them as part of the city's public face" (205).  Then, for the next five pages, she talks about what sexuality looked like in Italy at the time.  She doesn't mention anything that Al-Wazzan actually did, just things that he probably would have seen.  The next mention of something that Al-Wazzan actually did himself is on page 210, when she talks about something he mentioned in his Geography of Africa.  Not that there's anything wrong with this-Davis has written an excellent book.  However, it seems that the book uses Al-Wazzan's story as a starting point for going down a number of "rabbit holes," rather than using Al-Wazzan's story itself as a lens.  Nonetheless, the book is incredibly useful for a class on microhistories, since one can see the way Davis expertly fills in "silences," linking a single character to questions about a much larger world, which is a skill that is bound to come up inevitably when writing a microhistory.   
     

Speculative evidence in Trickster Travels

Trickster Travels is a fascinating tale of al-Hasan al-Wazzan, a man who operated in the highest echelons of society both in North Africa and even upon his capture and servitude in Western Europe. Davis depicts a truly cosmopolitan man. His position as a diplomat in North Africa projects him to the Pope’s palace in servitude as his captors recognized his significance gaining him important protectors/masters. He enters himself into the margins of the “elite humanist circles” (74). In many ways this makes sense, as Davis writes later, al-Hasan wrote his book on Africa in a form that would be acceptable to both Europeans and Africans in the vernacular language ever aware of his audience and indeed courting it. Nevertheless, throughout the book Davis has to fill in gaps with speculative language, which she explains is necessary in the beginning. This language sometimes, however, takes on an explanatory power alone. Taking our example above, Davis explains that al-Hasan ran in those margins of the “elite humanist circles” through the combination of assumed conversations between al-Hasan and Paulo Giovio and Valeriano, and the absence of evidence in their writings of the ambassador of Fez as one of their sources is exemplary of his marginal status. The assumption are mutually sustaining of one another. The evidence is al-Hasan’s familiarity with those figures about which Giovio wrote, but there were significant go-betweens in the Mediterranean during this time (of which al-Hasan certain accounts as one) from whom Giovio could gain his insights. I’m not sure if that speculation places him on the margins of humanist elites at the time.

I do not want to be min-understood, Trickster Travels is a fascinating book, and Davis brings to bear a very interesting reading of al-Hasan’s writings along with supplementary material to reconstruct his life. Indeed, it might be said, I’m making a mountain out of a molehill. Certainly, the example above is exceptional, but it is demonstrative of the sort of speculative language Davis must use to fill in the sources where they are lacking with circumstantial evidence. What remains, however, is a figure able to navigate these two separate places and cultures, and who (as Davis indicates in the Epilogue with her comparison with Rabelais) represents a greater similarity in “ways of thinking and writing” despite those differences.

A True Renaissance Man

The one take away that I got from reading Trickster Travels was that al-Wazzan was a man of many interests. He enjoyed is life as a diplomat which allowed him to travel extensively and learn new things from a variety of teachers. Even his time as a Christian in Rome allowed him to extend his knowledge and to be able to share that knowledge with others. As a man in the Renaissance period in Rome I believe that al-Wazzan was the true Renaissance man even more so than the Italians that have held that title. He was certainly more versed and more well traveled than the majority of Italians and had more to offer as far as experiences in his lifetime.

Al-Wazzan's preoccupation with language allowed him to be tolerant of others who did not share his beliefs which in turn allowed him to have a greater understanding about the world he was living in. The idea that he would collaborate with a Jewish scholar as a Christian who was also a Muslim is a true bringing together of the religions in an effort to understand each other. The work that al-Wazzan and Jacob Mantino did in trying to create an Arabic-Hebrew-Latin dictionary was extraordinary. 

I see al-Wazzan as a man of tolerance which is uncommon in the time period. He seems to value learning and sharing of knowledge above the dogma of religion and strife. This time period was tumultuous, especially between the Christians and the Muslims as they fought for control of the Mediterranean. Al-Wazzan's concern for the many different sects of Islam also to me portrays a man at a crossroads, who is trying to understand his religion, and the politics surrounding that religion. This concern about the different religions and even sects of the same religion point to an enlightened scholar who does not follow blindly along, but instead wishes to understand differing points of view.

Cosmography and Geography of Africa was al-Wazzan's contribution to the understanding of Africa for those who had never experienced it, he walked a tightrope so thin when he was writing so that neither his benefactors in Italy nor his associates in Africa would be offended by his writing. What a difficult thing to pull of in a language you were just learning. In addition, what a find for Davis to be able to bring this gifted man to life for modern readers. She does al-Wazzan justice in helping us to understand him and where he had been and where he was going. Even though Davis may lack some information she is clear when she doesn't have pertinent facts and instead is making assumptions.