Kerem Duymuş, a Turkish-origin researcher at Leipzig University, recently published an article in the Sokoto Journal of History. He challenges the widespread belief that no significant diplomatic relationship existed between the Ottoman Empire and the Sokoto Caliphate.
For centuries, the Ottoman Empire was the largest political entity in the Muslim world, covering the Balkans, the Caucasus, the Middle East, and North Africa. Its cordial relations with Muslim communities in the Horn of Africa and parts of East Asia are well documented. What has remained far less clear, however, is whether the Ottomans maintained any meaningful engagement with West African Muslims—particularly in the 19th century, when the Sokoto Caliphate was a leading Islamic state in the region.
The long-standing presumption has been shaped largely by orientalist writings and accounts of Western explorers, through which much of African history has been filtered. One consequence is that contemporary discussions of pan-Islamism or Muslim unity are often met with scepticism, framed by the question of whether Muslims historically demonstrated any sense of mutual concern before the rise of modern nation-states. The Muslims living under Sokoto rule are frequently cited—implicitly or explicitly—as an example of such supposed isolation from the wider Muslim world. But then, as Duymuş’s research suggests, this narrative contradicts history.
Prior Knowledge of the Relationship
Until recently, even Turkish academia and media discourse tended to highlight only limited connections between present-day Nigeria and the Ottoman world. One frequently cited example is the relationship between Abdulhamid II and the Lagos Muslim community, mediated by William Quilliam. The Ottoman sultan famously conferred the title Bey on Muhammad Shitta, which led to the popular name “Shitta-Bey” in Lagos.
Beyond this, intellectual connections have also been documented. In my own research, I have explored how Ottoman scholarship influenced Sokoto intellectual life through figures such as Abdullah b. Fodio, who adopted Molla Gürani's work as a methodological guide in his tafsir. Gürani was the fourth Shaykh al-Islam of the Ottoman Empire and a teacher to Sultan Mehmed II.
Impressively, emerging research now demonstrates that the relationship between the Ottoman Empire and West Africa also took a more concrete dimension, in the diplomatic sense.
Emerging Evidence of Diplomatic Contact
Earlier discussions have hinted at such links. In his 2019 book From Rebels to Rulers, Paul Naylor touches on a debate between Ahmad Lobbo, founder of the Massina state, and Muhammad Bello, the Amir of Sokoto. Lobbo resisted Sokoto’s authority, arguing that if Bello’s father could establish a caliphate, he too could do the same. Bello, in response, pointed out that allegiance (bayʿa) had already been extended to the Ottomans via the Qaramanli rulers in Tripoli—an allegiance his father regarded as more legitimate than that of the Maghribian dynasty despite their claim of prophetic descent.
Lesser-Known Developments
Whether Usman dan Fodio's letter ever reached Istanbul remains uncertain. What is increasingly clear, however, is that the Ottomans did attempt direct engagement with the region, as Kerem Duymuş’s research shows.
In 1844, the Ottomans dispatched an envoy to Borno to seek Umar al-Kanemi's voluntary allegiance. Within the Sokoto Caliphate, emissaries also reached key centres such as Kano and Katsina. These emirates expressed a willingness to establish commercial ties but resisted political arrangements that would bypass Sokoto’s central authority.
By the second half of the 19th century, Kano had emerged as a notable hub for Ottoman-linked trade networks. In the 1880s, further Ottoman emissaries were sent toward Sokoto, amid broader discussions of political alignment. Around 1885, the Borno ruler Shehu Ashimi encouraged Sokoto to formalise such relations.
A critical turning point came in 1886. As Sokoto dispatched envoys to pledge allegiance, travelling between Ghat and Murzuq, the delegation was assassinated by a small French-backed faction. This incident effectively stalled the process. Later, during the reign of Abdur Rahman Atiku (r. 1891 to 1902), further attempts were made to establish formal ties with Abdulhamid II, but shifting geopolitical realities intervened. The threat of an Italian invasion of Tripoli and mounting pressures on Ottoman territories in the Mediterranean diverted attention, while Sokoto itself fell to British forces in 1903.
The Problem of Studying History
Why has this history remained so obscure? The answer points to a broader methodological challenge in the study of the Muslim world. Duymuş’s work stands out in part because of his ability to access and interpret Arabic archival materials—an ability that remains limited among many historians.
As a result, much of African and Islamic history continues to be mediated through European-language sources and epistemology. In Nigeria, this is particularly striking: pre-colonial documentation across much of the region was produced in Arabic or Ajami scripts, yet many contemporary researchers lack the linguistic tools to engage with these sources directly. A similar issue exists in Turkey, where Ottoman Turkish, written in Arabic script, remains inaccessible to many modern scholars.
This is not a uniquely African or Turkish problem. In Indonesia, for example, some of the most comprehensive studies on Prince Diponegoro, who wrote in Javanese script, have been produced by foreign scholars such as Peter Carey, because local scholars are unable to study the script.
Conclusion
Colonial disruption not only fractured political relationships between Muslim societies. Unfortunately, it also reshaped how those relationships are remembered and understood. Today, many Muslim communities perceive one another through inherited narratives that emphasise distance rather than connection, often seeing former colonial powers as more familiar than fellow Muslim societies.
The case of the Ottoman–Sokoto is also along these lines. Although history did not allow it to mature. Some attempted engagements were interrupted, but they offer a foundation for rethinking contemporary relationships.
Today, this historical awareness could translate into renewed efforts to strengthen ties between countries such as Nigeria and Türkiye—both members of the D-8. Perhaps most importantly, it calls for vigilance against modern forms of distortion—whether through misinformation, propaganda, or shallow readings of the past—that risk undermining meaningful cooperation among Muslim societies today.
*The views expressed in this content are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the editorial policy of İdrakpost.
0 Comment