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Par Andy Morgan - mars 2005
(Liner notes written for the World Music Network CD)
For the best part of two centuries, or more, The Sahara has exerted a
powerful grip on the European imagination. It has been feared as a
god-forsaken place; the graveyard of Beau Geste, Errol Flynn and hordes
of young Foreign Legionaries and Desert Rats; a wild, bony, dry, hot,
unforgiving and empty hellhole. But what the uninitiated often fail to
appreciate is the Sahara’s powerfully seductive qualities. For most
people who actually make it out there, enchantment is almost immediate.
And for those born and bred within its vast confines, the desert
engenders a love every bit as strong at that felt by the Englishman for
leafy lanes and lush green pastures or by the Scotsman for bare backed
hills and silvery sea-lochs.
Some of the clichés of the European imagination can stand up to
scrutiny. The Sahara is definitely hot, with a mean annual temperature
of over 30°C. In the hottest months of April and May, just before the
rainy season arrives, temperatures can leave the 50°C mark way behind.
But the Sahara can also be cold, viciously cold. Hapless night
travellers sometimes die of cold in the desert. The Sahara is certainly
arid, with annual rainfall rarely more than 25mm and often less than 5mm
in certain parts. An area like the Tanezrouft, the featureless plain
that surrounds the ancient salt mines of Terhazza and Taodenni, is so
dry that it is known as the ‘land of thirst’ or the ‘desert of the
deserts’. In 1809 the bodies of 2000 caravaniers and their camels were
found by chance in the Tanezrouft. Loosing your way and loosing your
life can be fearfully synonymous in certain parts of the Sahara. But
elsewhere, in the ‘wet’ months of July and August, floods occur, dry
sandy beds become torrential rivers, lakes and ponds fill up, vistas
become surprisingly green and wells overflow with water. At that time,
local nomads feel a deep sense of relief and happiness as life is
guaranteed for another year, and the impulse to celebrate and make music
becomes especially potent.
The Sahara is vast. It spans the African continent from the Atlantic
to the Red Sea, and from the Atlas ranges and the Mediterranean in the
north to the Sahel in the south. The whole continent of Europe would fit
into it easily, with plenty of space to spare. But in this huge
expanse there is also a great variety of landscapes; seas of sand-dunes
or ergs like The Grand Erg Occidental that faithfully provide a palpable
answer to every child’s ultimate desert fantasy; billiard table-flat
plains of gravel or regs that stretch for hundreds of miles like the
Tanezrouft and Tamesna, so feared by generations of travellers;
mountains ranges like the Hoggar, the Tibetsi, and the Aïr, with their
mesas and lunar contours; desiccated scrublands in the Sahelian ‘coast’
of the southern desert; vast oases in the shadows of the Atlas ranges in
the north. Each of these landscapes are capable of both extremely
fierce, and extremely tender expressions, depending on the light, the
heat and the time of day.
Although the Sahara is sparsely inhabited, with a population roughly
one third that of greater London living in a territory far larger than
Europe, it is by no means empty. The pre-historic stone carvings and
paintings that literally litter some parts of the desert bear silent
witness to a time when the Sahara was much wetter than it is today,
carpeted by tall Savannah grasses and populated by rhinos, elephants,
hippos, giraffes and chariot-riding humans. Since the land dried up,
around 3000 BC, the Sahara has become a bolthole for peoples and tribes
escaping invasion, war and oppression in North Africa, Egypt, The Middle
East and black Africa. All the peoples who now live there…Touareg,
Fulani, Moor, Tubu…have origination myths that tell of ancestors who
came from some other place, conquered the ‘primitive’ people they found
living there, and set up home. The Sahara has been decisively
Islamicised since at least the 10th century AD, but faint hints of
earlier Pagan, Jewish and Christian migrations can be found in the
language and customs of its modern inhabitants.
Most Saharan people are still nomads, although the sedentary way of
life is gaining ground. Outsiders often confuse the concept of nomadism
with a kind of primeval soul-searching. In fact it is a life born of
necessity. A nomad will roam a fixed territory, moving his herd of
camels, cattle or goats with the seasons and the rains from well to
well, pasture to pasture. It is an extremely harsh existence but it
brings with it a priceless independence and a deep bond between man and
nature. A nomad needs little or nothing except what the land and sky
around him freely provides. Most recent conflicts, like those between
the French colonisers and various Touareg factions like the Kel Ahaggar,
Kel Aïr and Ouellemeden, arose when the Touareg felt that their freedom
and independence were threatened. The Touareg rebellion that broke out
in the Adrar des Iforas region against the newly minted Malian state in
1963, and more recent rebellions in the early 1990s, also share the
same root causes. Why must we pay taxes when God provides all we need?
Why must we educate our children to read and write when neither of
these skills will help them survive in the bush? Why do we need papers
or passports to cross lands that our forefathers have roamed freely for
centuries?
This sense of freedom is also the secret of the Sahara’s
seductiveness. The desert and the nomads who inhabit it, embody so much
of what was irrevocably lost in Europe and other ‘developed’ societies
long long ago; space, simplicity, freedom, timelessness and the bond
with nature. The epic immensity and undisturbed silence of its
landscapes are the perfect antidote to bricked-up lives and the tyranny
of the clock. Most newcomers sense the awesome pull of this freedom
almost immediately. For the local, it is perhaps more subliminal,
co-existing with hard and unremitting physical labour, corrupt
officialdom, droughts, flash floods, atrocious roads and the occasional
rebellion. Life in the desert is not easy, but it is both seductive and
essential.
In terms of music and culture, the Sahara is like an inland sea,
where the sounds, tastes and colours of peripheral ‘port’ cities like
Marrakesh, Sijilmassa, Timbuktu, Agadez, Ghardaia, In Salah, Ghat,
Ghadames, Tunis, Tripoli, Siwa, Cairo, Walata, Chinguetti, Djenné and
Kano have mingled for centuries. This fact makes it a fascinating
catalytic space whose role mirrors that of the Mediterranean Sea to the
north. Over its immense rock-strewn wastes, the Arab and Berber cultures
of the Maghreb have cross-faded with those of the Fulani, Songhai,
Manding, Bambara, Wolof, Dinka and many more further south.
Our odyssey through the immense musical treasury of the Sahara starts
in the far north west of the territory, in the huge oases of the
Tafilalet, which nestles under the towering bony vertebrae of the
Saharan Atlas range. It’s an area that gave birth to numerous
quasi-religious dynasties that went on to conquer swathes of the Maghreb
and southern Spain. The present Moroccan King, Mohammed VI, is a
descendant of one such clan. It’s clear that the region is a source of
immense musical riches too. The Compagnie Jellouli & Gdih come from
Erfoud, the capital of the Tafilalet, and they play a style of music
known as al baldi, in which the elegance of Andalusian melodies are
coupled with the searing intensity of Berber music from the Atlas, and
the harrowing lyricism of popular malhoun poetry. Centuries ago, the
caravaniers that left the region to travel south to the salt mines of
the Tanezrouft before crossing the Sahara to trade in their salt for an
equal weight of gold in the bilad as soudani, ‘The Land of the Blacks’,
must have had melodies such as this one swirling in their heads.
Moving over one thousand miles west by south-west we come to the
Republic of Mauretania and one of its most remarkable up and coming
young stars, Malouma Mint Meidah. Malouma has forged a name for herself
as an innovative band leader and outspoken female voice in a country
which has long been straight jacketed by fundamental Islamic mores and
the dominance of old traditional musical castes. ‘Jraad’ is taken from
her second album ‘Dunya’, which was recorded in the capital Nouakchott
and released to global acclaim in 2003. It faithfully portrays her
rebellious musical spirit, and her desire to incorporate jazz, blues,
rock, soul together with the widest possible range of native Mauritanian
sounds into a stunningly original new mix, thereby giving her fellow
Mauritanians a bright new musical horizon.
The northeastern corner of Mali, a region known as the Adrar des
Iforas, has been a cradle of dissent since independence in the early
1960s. In the 1970s and 1980s drought and oppression drove thousands of
young Touareg, or ‘Kel Tamashek’ (The Tamashek speaking people) as they
refer to themselves, into exile in Algeria and Libya. In military
training camps set up by the opportunistic Colonel Khadafy, these young
clandestinos learned how to fight, and in the early 1990s they returned
home to launch a rebellion. Tinariwen were the pied pipers of this
youthful movement of so-called ishumaren, or ‘unemployed’. Since the
first Festival in the Desert, which took place near their hometown of
Kidal in the Adrar in 2001, Tinariwen have toured the globe and the
outside world has woken up to their searing skeletal brand of desert
blues. However, ‘Alkhar Dessouf’, a mesmerically moody song about loss,
nostalgia and love, illustrates the essential point about Tinariwen.
They are first and foremost rebels of the soul, not the Kalashnikov, and
their real battleground is the human heart.
The songs, rhythms and melodies of black African slaves and migrants
and their descendants are a core element of modern North African music.
In Morocco this heritage is sometimes called gnawa music, in Algeria
it’s called diwan, or more specifically diwan de Bechar. Bechar is a
dust blown town on the northern edge of the Sahara, made famous in
colonial times by the antics of the Foreign Legionary garrison stationed
there. It is now home to Hasna El Becharia, doyenne of the diwan style,
and queen of the vibrant local wedding music scene. Hasna is virtuoso
of the various Afro-Maghrebi instruments like the gut-string bass known
as the guembri, or the metal castanets known as krakesh, and her jaunty
tune ‘Hakmet Lakdar’ sums up her Afro-Berber-Arabic heritage very well.
Taking one of those huge geographical leaps that are obligatory in
any brief overview of Saharan music, we end up in the southern Libyan
oasis of Fezzan, whose links with the Mediterranean world date back to
pre-Roman times. The territory has long been a battleground with Touareg
and Arab nomads who have fought with the local black African Tubus for
control. Chet Fewet are a powerful and youthful musical combo from the
area, whose Arab-flavoured melodies are lent a rough, rootsy fire by the
group’s own Touareg berber heritage.
It’s not only misinformed Europeans that have deemed the Sahara an
empty place. Rapacious North African leaders have also used this
widespread misconception to further their territorial ambitions. In 1975
King Hassan II of Morocco lead an army of soldiers and civilians into
the vast deserts that line the Atlantic coast south of Morocco, which
had previously been called ‘Rio d’Oro’ or ‘Spanish Sahara’. As far as he
and his counsellors were concerned, this ‘empty’ territory was
Morocco’s by historical and geographical right. The local Sahraoui
people disagreed and their military arm, the Polisario, have been
fighting for independence ever since. This bitter struggle has few
silver linings, but one has been superlative canon of Sahraoui songs and
recordings inspired by the conflict. Aziza Brahim, Nayim Alal and
Mariem Hassan are all leading lights in this movement, and the raw
uncompromising power of their music is self-evident.
Another group born out of struggle is Tartit Ensemble, let by the
charismatic Fadimata ‘Disco’ Walet Oumar. Tartit, which means ‘union’,
are all Touareg from the Kel Antessar tribe who have held sway in the
deserts around the historic city of Timbuktu for centuries. During the
Touareg rebellion of the early 1990s, Disco and many of her fellow Kel
Antessar escaped to refugee camps in Mauretania. It was there that they
founded a women’s music group in order to foster good spirits and
strengthen cultural pride. With the help of friends and aid agencies
they managed to tour Europe and have since become the world’s most
famous ambassadors of traditional Touareg music. The group mostly
comprises women, but it also includes a few men, including the singer
Mohamed ag Abada, who performs with such haunting effect on the song
‘Ikruhuwaten’, which was recorded in the refugee camp in 1996.
Tinariwen, Tartit and the Sahraoui musicians are all proof of the
painful irony that while conflict and rebellion have had a cruel and
devastating effect on desert peoples and their lives, they have also
been the source of some of the greatest modern music to come out of the
region.
The Songhai people have shared the southern fringes of the Sahara,
along the banks of the Niger River, with the Touareg for centuries, and
despite recent events, the two ethnicities have managed to live in
harmony for most of that time. The city of Timbuktu and its environs
have thrown up Songhai musicians of international repute like Ali Farka
Touré and Afel Bocoum, but these names are only the tip of the
proverbial iceberg. A local musical hero is the young Songhai singer
Seckou Maiga, who has established himself as a serious contender after
only three cassette releases. The cover of his 2002 release ‘Malfa
Sibori’ depicts the Flame of Peace of 1996, a milestone event in which
3000 small arms, collected from combatants on both sides of the Touareg
rebellion, were burned on a ritual pyre on the outskirts of Timbuktu.
The Flame of Peace marked a definite end to hostilities and the
beginning of a fragile peace which has so far managed to hold fast.
Another group who have helped to make the Timbuktu region a trove of
musical, as well as historical treasures, are Kel Tin Lokiene. Lead by
Hemi Ag Akreirou, this fifteen strong troupe delve deep into the funky
yet diamond hard heart of traditional Touareg music. Their subject
matter is often dominated by tales of old heroes and warriors, and the
virtues of courage and chivalry that were apparently so much stronger in
days of yore than now. Nostalgia for the past is an affliction felt as
strongly in the Sahara as in Europe or anywhere else.
Agadez in northern Niger is a town that rivals Timbuktu in terms of
historical and political importance. The presence of local uranium
mines, made world famous by the hollow claims of President Bush and his
entourage in the lead up to the second Gulf war, have also afforded the
area increased wealth and notoriety. The nearby deserts of the Aïr and
the immense Grand Erg du Ténéré possess some of the most beautiful and
breath-taking scenery in the entire Sahara. Group Oyiwane are a local
group lead by Balla ‘Barmo’ Kader, that have existed for two decades.
Their music is based on the traditional rhythm of the tindé drum, which
is itself based on the loping gait of the camel.
The Berber music of the northern desert fringes in Algeria is
sometimes called Sahraoui, not to be confused with the people and music
of the Western Sahara. Its core instrument is the rosewood desert flute
or gasba, whose searing plaintive tones best describe the sound and mood
of a forlorn desert wind blowing in from those interminable stony
prairies. Sahraoui Bachir is one of the leading cheikhs, or improvising
male poets and singers, of the genre. His vocal style is stark and
powerful. It’s a sound that sums up the Sahara, in all its fearful,
harsh yet seductive beauty.
L'auteur
Andy Morgan est un journaliste freelance anglais. Manager de
Tinariwen de 2004 à 2009, il a beaucoup écrit sur la musique africaine
en général, et la musique touarègue en particulier. L'intégralité de ses
écrits sont en ligne sur www.andymorganwrites.com.
Du même auteur
Gaddafi and the Touareg: Love, hate and petro-dollars
Kel Inedan – The Touareg blacksmiths
Festival in the desert – 2001, A Saharan Odyssey
Festival in the desert – Hope through music
Touareg music feature
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