Tag Archives: decolonisation

Seminar CLXXXI: avoiding colonisation with medievalism

First I should apologise for a late post; last weekend was very full of family business and I didn’t have a post even started before Sunday night, and then once I had, I realised I’d written the text for a post ahead of the one I’d meant. So that should speed things up this weekend, but what I meant to report first on was this online seminar, which actually fits well with the last post even though the timing was mostly a coincidence. On 28th April 2021 the Centre for Law and Social Justice at the University of Leeds and the Leeds Law School at Leeds Beckett University jointly played virtual host to Tanya DePass and B. Dave Walters for a presentation entitled "Into the Motherlands: creating just and resilient communities". This turns out to have been part of a kind of tour of the Internet that Ms DePass, at least, was doing at that point to boost the attention then being paid to Into the Mother Lands, which the publicity for this paper explained as, "a tabletop role playing game set within a world unmarred by legacies of colonial violence". This sounded unusually geeky for my place of work; I was right then embroiled in this decolonisation initiative and also vaguely interested in gamifying my research for a funding bid that in the end failed. Also, I’ve played a game or two in my past, and we were in the middle of lockdown still and it sometimes seemed like a licence to go to anything at all, since it still didn’t mean leaving the house. So I attended, and it was fascinating.

DePass and Walters had, you see, been trying to write a different world. They had gathered a group of likeminded creators and built themselves a scenario and ruleset in collaboration. Once they had what they wanted, they got a group of people together and turned their playtesting into a TV stream. When they had enough people interested from that, they put together a Kickstarter to turn the thing into a real published game, and this was the phase in which I met the project in this paper. The aim with which DePass and Walters had set out, you see, was to try and capture the fun of rôle-playing games without carrying on board the worse tropes of the fantasy genre about gender and, especially, race. The pair, who did the paper more or less as a duologue, had some very sharp things to say about how those lines usually play out down pale=good or intellectual or magical and dark=bad or physical or monstrous.1 Into the Mother Lands tries to get round that by three means: firstly, it has no limits on the characteristics of the various species that inhabit the world where it’s set, Musalia. Secondly, all the creative work is done by people of colour (the term used in the seminar); and thirdly, all the humans in the game are themselves people of colour who have never known colonialism. As my notes have it, in what is presumably a paraphrase rather than a quote, "framing a world like this lets us carry over the idea that a better world can exist" (Walters), "and avoid the narrative of murder achievements" (DePass). And as aims go that seems fair enough to me.

Internet Movie Database masthead for the Into the Motherlands TV stream

The Internet Movie Database masthead for the Into the Motherlands</cite< TV stream

The creators apparently found it very hard to get their key concept off the ground in development, however. A lot of the issues were with gameplay and the conflict and tension necessary to drive plots, which now had to be created some other way. The thing that caught the interest of this listening medievalist, though, was the scenario they’d had to imagine in order that this phenomenon, always-free black humans, could be conceptualised in this game, because their answer was medievalism, and there, you see, comes the relevance to the blog. Have you ever heard of Mūsā I, Emperor of Mali?

Mansa Mūsā I depicted in the so-called Catalan Atlas

Mansa Mūsā I depicted in the so-called Catalan Atlas by Abraham Cresques, Paris, Bibliothèque national de France, MS Esp. 30, fo. 6, public domain claimed by Wikimedia Commons. The Atlas was made in 1375 CE and he died around 1337, so this is something like contemporary renown.

I had, very dimly, maybe once heard of Mansa Musa, as he is more usually known, but I couldn’t have told you a thing about him at this point. More people probably ought to have heard of him, though. He ruled Mali in the fourteenth century and may have been the wealthiest man the world has ever known. He is most famous for going on hajj to Mecca and distributing so much gold on his journey, particularly during a three-month stay in Cairo, that it caused hyper-inflation and kept the price of gold down for a full decade. There is much much more that could be said about him, too, including that he established something like non-Egyptian Africa’s first university.2 However, here we actually need to focus on his predecessor and brother, Mansa Abū Bakr. Mansa Abū Bakr was interested less in the East and more in what might lie in the West, and equipped an Atlantic expedition to find out, which never returned. Undeterred, he therefore kitted out a more serious one and abdicated to lead it himself, setting up Mūsā in his place. And then off Abū Bakr sailed and what happened to him, no-one knows.3 There were some exciting theories in the 1970s about how this might mean Africans got to the Americas before Europeans did (Vikings not included, of course). I spent a while looking for where these had got to after this seminar, having tripped over them while trying to get more about Mansa Mūsā for the bibliographic mill, and it seems they died on the vine, or more specifically, that they dropped out of academic discourse and into popular discourse while the scholars still interested in this idea preferred to try to leave Africa out of it and focus on Asia instead.4 But DePass and Walters were, less seriously, working in that earlier tradition, because their answer to the question, how do we get a world where free black humans play on equal terms with the other inhabitants? was, in the end: what if Abū Bakr’s expedition was lost because it passed through a wormhole and ended up on a different planet? And thus was Into the Mother Lands given its back-story, and it may not be great history; but the point is, that’s how far out and how far backwards one has to think to unseat the present race dynamic between the ex-or-still-colonial nations and their erstwhile subjects. This struck me quite hard.

Now, shortly after they’d explained this, I had to run off for a meeting with, as it happened, Adam Kosto. I didn’t, therefore, get to hear the discussion, much less contribute to it, though I’m not sure I would have dared. What I also didn’t do, I have to say, is subscribe to the project’s Kickstarter or (because it was funded in 90 minutes) actually get or play the game, though that may not in fact have been possible because the publisher they had in mind part-folded shortly afterwards. (They now have a new one and the game is probably coming out next year.) I didn’t even watch the stream, I’m afraid, but I did keep thinking with it. I also searched up a lot of literature about Mūsā I and precolonial Afro-American contact, as we see in n. 4 below. But mainly what I keep thinking is twofold: on the one hand, how alarming it is that it should even be plausible that to envisage a world in which black is not generally the victim of white, you have to think back six hundred years; but, on the other hand, that this means the world really really does need medievalists. It’s possible it doesn’t need exactly the ones it’s got, but we can work on that, and it would be lovely to think we could have anywhere near as much fun as Tanya DePass and B. Dave Walters seemed to be doing their part of it back in April 2021.


1. Starting reading on this would be Paul B. Sturtevant, "Race: The Original Sin of the Fantasy Genre", Race, Racism and the Middle Ages 36 in The Public Medievalist (5 December 2017), online here, which makes it clear it’s not just Dungeons and Dragons.

2. The main primary source for the Cairo story appears to be the Masālik alabṣar fī Mamālik al-amsār of the Mamlūk administrator Ibn Faḍl al-‘Umarī, available as Ibn Faḍl Allāh Šihāb al-Din Aḥmad b. Yaḥyā b. Faḍl Allāh al-‘Umarī, Masālik alabṣar fī Mamālik al-amsār, ed. & transl. Ayman Fu’ad Sayyid, Textes arabes et études islamiques 23 (Le Caire 1958), of which parts are translated into English in Aḥmad ibn Yaḥyá Ibn Faḍl Allâh al-ʿUmarī, Egypt and Syria in the early Mamluk period: an extract from Ibn Faḍl Allāh al-’Umarī’s Masālik al-Abṣār fī Mamālik al-Amṣār, transl. D. S. Richards (Abingdon 2017), but I don’t right now have access to either of these so can’t say where in Fu’ad’s version it occurs or if it does in Richards’s. For Mūsā I more generally, see J. E. G. Sutton, "The African Lords of the Intercontinental Gold Trade Before the Black Death: al-Hasan bin Sulaiman of Kilwa and Mansa Musa of Mali" in Antiquaries Journal Vol. 77 (Cambridge 1997), pp. 221–242, DOI: 10.1017/S000358150007520X. There must be something else but that’s what I know about. I mean, there’s always D. T. Niane, "Mali and the second Mandingo expansion" in Niane (ed.), Africa from the Twelfth to the Sixteenth Century, UNESCO General History of Africa 4 (London 1984), pp. 117–171 & M. Ly-Tall, "The decline of the Mali empire", ibid., pp. 172–186, the whole volume online here

3. This is also from al-‘Umarī, which I find from Jean Devisse, "Africa in inter-continental relations" in Niane, Africa from the Twelfth to the Sixteenth Century, pp. 635–672 at pp. 664-666, the only pages in the whole chapter that deal with Africans looking out rather than other people looking in, and dismissing it as economically insignificant (though, interestingly, prepared to believe that they might have made it to South America, p. 666). However, Devisse used some other translation of al-‘Umarī, so I can’t give you a uniform cite. I can give you the English version of it he quotes (pp. 664-665), though, and that goes like this, in the voice of Mūsā I himself speaking of his predecessor:

"He [Mansa Abū Bakr] did not believe that the ocean was impossible to cross. He wished to reach the other side and was passionately interested in doing so. He fitted out 200 vessels and filled them with men and as many again with gold, water and food supplies for several years. He then said to those in charge of embarkation, ‘do not return until you have reached the other side of the ocean or if you have exhausted your food or water’. They sailed away. Time passed. After a long time, none of them had returned. Finally one vessel, only one, returned. We asked its master what he had seen and heard: ‘We sailed on and on for a long time until a river with a violent current appeared in the middle of the sea. I was in the last vessel. The others sailed on and when they reached that spot they were unable to return and disappeared. We did not know what had happened to them. For my part, I came back from that place without entering the stream.’ The sultan rejected his explanation. He then ordered 2000 vessels to be fitted out, 1000 for himself and his men and 1000 for food and water. He then appointed me his deputy, embarked with his companions and sailed away. That was the last we saw of them, him and his companions."

So make of that what you will!

4. This is now kind of a zombie debate, which isn’t to say it’s been resolved. However, in each of its phases it’s primarily been driven by a single scholar at a time. In the 1960s and 1970s that was one M. D. W. Jeffreys, who may have started this work with "Pre-Colombian Negroes in America" in Scientia: Rivista di Scienza Vol. 88 (Bologna 1953), pp. 202–218, online here, but then got the idea that maize could be attested in Europe prior to Columbus, necessitating some pre-Columbian contact; he did several articles on that but I think Jeffreys, "Maize and the Mande Myth" in Current Anthropology Vol. 12 (Chicago IL 1971), pp 291–320, on JSTOR here, completes them all. His work was already provoking reaction by then, as witness Raymond Mauny, "Hypothèses concernant les relations précolombiennes entre l’Afrique et l’Amérique" in Anuario de Estudios Atlánticos Vol. 1 (Gran Canaria 1971), pp 369–389, online here, A. R. Willcox, "Pre-Columbian Intercourse between the Old World and the New: Considered from Africa" in South African Archaeological Bulletin Vol. 30 (Wits 1975), pp. 19–22, on JSTOR here; and Almose A. Thompson, "Pre-columbian black presence in the western hemisphere" in Negro History Bulletin Vol. 38 (Washington DC 1975), pp. 452–456, on JSTOR here. Then things seem to have gone quiet again until a guy called Carl L. Johnannessen revived the maize question. Initially he was doing that from some quite thin art-historical evidence (and, importantly for us, steering the question away from Africa): witness Carl L. Johannessen and Anne Z. Parker, "Maize ears sculptured in 12th and 13th century A.D. India as indicators of pre-columbian diffusion" in Economic Botany Vol. 43 (New York City NY 1989), pp. 164–180, on JSTOR here, and this understandably met some pushback: you can read it through the collection of counter-evidence amassed by a supporter, J. Huston McCulloch, in "Maize in Pre-Columbian India", in Some Archaeological Outliers: Adventures in Underground Archaeology (Columbus OH 2006), online here, but you can find it done most thoroughly in Bernard Ortiz de Montellano, Gabriel Haslip-Viera and Warren Barbour, "They Were NOT Here before Columbus: Afrocentric Hyperdiffusionism in the 1990s" in Ethnohistory Vol. 45 (1997), pp 199–234, on Academia.edu here, with a host of related papers showing up there I can’t index now – but note that one of their concerns is that attempts to assign particular archæological and technological phenomena to African influence can only work by removing it from the Native American record, which is a point. The wave they’re trying to stem there must be as much or more Jeffreys’ fault, as his work became accessible on JSTOR and suchlike, I assume, as anything that’s happened since. None of this deterred Johannessen, however, who subsequently went big and added 69 other species of plant and 8 of various sorts of creature to the list of things he wants to explain by pre-Columbian contact, in John L. Sorenson and Carl L. Johannessen, Scientific Evidence for Pre-Columbian Transoceanic Voyages, Sino-Platonic Papers 133 (Philadelphia PA 2004), online here. A fairly recent review of the situation might be Richard V. Francaviglia, "’Far Beyond the Western Sea of the Arabs…’: Reinterpreting Claims about Pre-Columbian Muslims in the Americas" in Terrae Incognitae Vol. 46 (Abingdon 2014), pp. 103–138, DOI: 10.1179/0082288414Z.00000000033. But I bet you could find another one which disagreed entirely…

A Forgotten Effort of Decolonization?

The front of the Queen's College, Oxford

The window behind which I was having the thoughts which begin this post is the uppermost leftermost gable in the building on the left of the neo-classical one, all of this being the Queen’s College, Oxford, and borrowed from their website

I think this story begins in Oxford, although it doesn’t stay there long. At the time I was teaching in Oxford the History syllabus’s foundation was two sets of “papers”, one in British History, covering the sceptred isles of my birth (in theory; in practice, really just England unless someone made special efforts to include the Home Nations) and one in General History (everything beyond Britain). This has now changed, to rebrand General as European and World, and I leave it to you to decide if that’s better. The point is that if you offered a General paper, which I did, the syllabus made almost anything a possible topic or area. The late lamented Mark Whittow, despite being a Byzantinist by training, regularly made his students study T’ang China for a week, because he found it fun and thought it would do them good. That could go the other way round too: I drew a particular intake of breath the first time a student took me up on having included the Mongols in my lists, but it was good for me in the end even if we did spend that week effectively competing for books so that I could mark whatever he wrote.1

Cover of volume 2 of the Cambridge History of Africa

Cover of J. D. Fage (ed.), The Cambridge History of Africa, Volume 2: from c. 500 BC to AD 1050 (Cambridge 1978), DOI 10.1017/CHOL9780521215923

However, I didn’t include South Asia or Africa in what I thought I could teach. I know why I generally stay off South Asia now, which is that I have become aware that there is a dense Indian historiography largely based in or reacting to a particular Indian flavour of Marxism which I’d have to master. Critical historiography and polemic therefore overlap there in such a way that it would take me a long time to get to where I could try and find my own balance without just accidentally repeating one or other side of each dispute. I am getting there, but I’m not yet.2 Then, I suspect it just didn’t occur to me, as it so often seems not to to people. But I did think about including Africa, and that idea fell over pretty much at the point of assembling reading lists. I could find really very little. I asked one of my more learned and globally-minded colleagues, and they said, “Well, there’s the Cambridge History…” Now if I include here a citation for the most relevant volume of that, J. D. Fage (ed.), The Cambridge History of Africa, Volume 2: from c. 500 BC to AD 1050 (Cambridge 1978), you’ll see an obvious problem here, which is: a lot has changed since 1978. You’d hope some of it had changed in African historiography, too. Granted, when I started teaching the British History papers in Oxford in 2010 I was given bibliographies written by the late lamented Patrick Wormald, retired 2001 and sadly dead 2004, so updating was in general slow; but still…

"Why is My Curriculum White" banner

“Why is My Curriculum White” banner

Now, flash forward to the School of History, University of Leeds in 2019, whose views or positions of course are not represented by anything I write here, these being my own views only. But in that school a 2014 campaign called Why is my Curriculum White? had (still has) posters in many of our corridors and had already provoked a certain amount of pressure to respond in some way; and then a man called George Floyd got shot by police in the USA and the world’s media, social and otherwise, took fire for a while with the slogan “Black Lives Matter“.3 This was also the sort of time that what had till then been calling itself Anglo-Saxon studies also got into turmoil over its own alleged racism.4 And I was in charge of an ageing medieval survey module called Medieval and Renaissance Europe that was our incoming students’ first experience of university content teaching. I thought we should probably do something. I couldn’t decentre Europe, because it was in the module title and syllabus, but I tried to make it possible to look at Europe from the outside by adding comparative readings for each topic looking at the same sort of issues in other societies. With one or two topics excepted, none of my colleagues were much better placed to provide those than I was, so I had a lot of searching to do. Somewhere in the course of it, I suspect while looking for an entry-level reading about the Sogdian trading groups of Central Asia in English, I came on a PDF with an obscure file title which turned out to be part of a thing called the UNESCO History of Civilizations of Central Asia, itself part of a project called the Multiple History Series.5 That got me curious and set me looking for other things in that series, and that then led me to discover the existence of the UNESCO General History of Africa.6

Cover of the second volume of the UNESCO General History of Africa

Cover of the second volume of the UNESCO General History of Africa

Now if you’ve never heard of this, you’re not alone; the only other person I’ve found who has, including several historians of Africa I’ve asked about it, is my learned colleague Iona McCleery. And yet it looked like just what we needed and had needed for some time. Firstly, it covered in three volumes what the old Cambridge History covered in two, meaning more detail.7 Secondly, it was marginally more up-to-date, and importantly past the threshold of use of radio-carbon dating as the Cambridge History could not have been. But thirdly and most importantly to someone busily trying to diversify his reading lists so that there was at least some voice in them that wasn’t white and Anglophone, it was all written, or at worst co-written, by scholars from Africa, organised by a huge committee. So I pulled down PDFs of the volumes wherever they could be found (all legit. and above-board, I should say, just not necessarily obvious, as they might have been, say, on the UNESCO website…) and started working them into Zotero so as to be able to find them when relevant.

Cover of volume 3 of the UNESCO General History of Africa

Cover of volume 3 of the UNESCO General History of Africa

Several interesting things became clear out of that. The first, perhaps inevitably, was how the historiography of the continent which this collection set out to detail was broken up by periodizations from elsewhere, but not a consistent elsewhere. The first part of the second volume (which is called Ancient Civilisations of Africa) is more or less Classical in focus, counting Egypt and Rome as part of Africa’s history, albeit with Nubia included in that world; but the second part of it is basically prehistoric archæology, and is where all the sub-Saharan coverage is. That gets us up to the seventh century CE, where the third volume begins, and then suddenly that stuff is fighting with Islamic history for space and loses. Then the fourth volume is basically a history of empires and begins to take on its own shape. In between Classics and Islam the only other periodizers are linguistic and material culture migration. This is, obviously I suppose, led by the evidence; where there is evidence from Greek, Carthaginian and Roman sources, and to an extent Nubian and Aksumite materials, the Classicists handled it; where there’s Arabic-language evidence the Islamicists handled it; and the archæologists did what was left, which is of course really quite a lot, but specifically they had to cover the areas not in contact with external recording civilisations. So the period divide works out disciplinary which works out geographical, and the intersections are quite hard to map.

Cover of the fourth volume of the UNESCO General History of Africa

Cover of the fourth volume of the UNESCO General History of Africa

But the other thing that I couldn’t help notice, as I grabbed at headings for tagging purposes, was the concentration of the archæological and linguistic work both on race. And by that I mean, the main research question often seems to have been: what biological category of African can we tell from this evidence moved where when? Who were they ethnically? Everything else, everything visible, was aimed at that question rather than being answers in itself. And perhaps that shouldn’t be surprising; sometimes, the political debates which were driving that scholarship are evident within the chapters.8 But when that work can lead to a 20-page annex reporting on a conference about the “Peopling of Ancient Egypt” that ends with a plea for UNESCO funding to allow better categorisation of ancient African peoples into races, it’s hard to think that this is what I need to make my curriculum less racist.9 It’s not, of course, as if these are specifically African questions: they presumably arrived in Africa directly from nineteenth- and early-twentieth-century European scholarship that was also deeply, disturbingly even, interested in categorising people by “race”, including by language and material culture despite both of those obviously being things people can take or leave. And we still fight with that stuff in Europe; I found a new modern piece trying to do ethnic identification from skull measurement only the other day, in fact (though for what it’s worth, that too was about Egypt and Nubia, as well as being logically pretty much senseless).10 Usually I have to look to French or Croatian scholarship for people still doing this.11 So in a forty-year-plus-old history of Africa it’s probably unreasonable to expect them to have been doing what I was hoping for in 2021; I felt a bit like a hippie gone abroad looking for enlightenment for all the wrong reasons.12 Nonetheless, it left me with the basic quandary: what was I to do, having gone searching for the voices of those missing from the conversation, on finding they weren’t saying what I hoped? Was that actually my problem?

Now, in practical terms this was a very short-lived problem. I ran that module for only one more year, and in the most relevant reading list, which for expertise reasons needed to be focused especially on West Africa and the beginnings of the slave trade, I had room for maybe three or four readings on deeper history, and only one of them could be set as required reading. And as it happened I had already read long ago a pretty good and more recent single-chapter coverage of much of what is outline-known about that area’s development by an African scholar who subsequently did a keynote at the 2021 International Medieval Congress, so I was pretty confident it was OK.13 Meanwhile, I do use one or two chapters from these volumes in other reading lists where relevant, but I do do so gingerly, on the grounds that by now they are probably (indeed, hopefully) an anachronistic representation of African scholarship. It’s just that everyone else I can set is not from Africa… and when some day I have the chance to teach something a bit more like world history, this problem will arise again. Now, it may in fact be solved by the UNESCO General History of Africa, because there is apparently an update volume even now in process which will represent actually-current work on these issues. But I don’t think the particular problems I met with these volumes are why they have apparently been so thoroughly forgotten, or even a reason why they should not have set the world sufficiently alight in the 1980s as to replace the even-then-tiring Cambridge History of Africa. I think that might actually have been our problem, whether the previous one was mine or not…


1. I got him to read David O. Morgan, The Mongols, The Peoples of Europe, 2nd edn, (Oxford 2007), though probably still in the first edition, as well as some articles, and tried to get by myself on Peter Jackson, The Mongols and the West, 1221-1410, The Medieval World, 2nd edn (Abingdon 2018), though likewise in the first edition not that one. It just about worked…

2. For example… it’s hard for someone with my academic persuasions not to like the look of Harbans Mukhia, “Was there feudalism in Indian history?” in Journal of Peasant Studies Vol. 8 (London 1981), pp. 273–310, DOI: 10.1080/03066158108438139; but if you then happen to run across D. N. Jha (ed.), Society and Ideology in India: essays in honour of professor R.S. Sharma (New Delhi 1996), Dilip K. Chakrabarti, Colonial Indology: sociopolitics of the ancient Indian past (New Delhi 1997) or even Sadashiva Ramachandra Gowda, “The feudalism Debate in the point of view of Harbans Mukhia” in Tumbe Group of International Journals Vol. 4 (Tumkur 2021), pp. 26–29, online here, you have to admit that one view won’t be enough…

3. Why is My Curriculum White has been written about in Michael A. Peters, “Why is My Curriculum White?” in Educational Philosophy and Theory Vol. 47 (Abingdon 2015), pp. 641–646, DOI: 10.1080/00131857.2015.1037227 and Michael Adrian Peters, “Why Is My Curriculum White? A Brief Genealogy of Resistance” in Jason Arday and Heidi Safia Mirza (edd.), Dismantling Race in Higher Education: Racism, Whiteness and Decolonising the Academy (Cham 2018), pp. 253–270, DOI: 10.1007/978-3-319-60261-5_14.

4. Mary Rambaran-Olm, “Misnaming the Medieval: Rejecting ‘Anglo-Saxon’ Studies” in History Workshop (4th November 2019), online here; Renato Rodrigues Da Silva, “The Uses of the ‘Anglo-Saxon Past’ between Revolutions, Imperialism and Racism” in Práticas da História: Journal on Theory, Historiography and Uses of the Past No. 12 (Lisboa 2021), pp. 129–160, DOI: 10.48487/pdh.2021.n12.24965; Mary Rambaran-Olm and Erik Wade, “What’s in a Name? The Past and Present Racism in ‘Anglo-Saxon’ Studies” in Yearbook of English Studies Vol. 52 (Cambridge 2022), pp. 135–153, DOI: 10.1353/yes.2022.0010.

5. B. A. Litvinsky, Zhang Guang-da and R. Shabani Samghabadi (edd.), The Crossroads of Civilizations, A.D. 250 to 750, UNESCO History of Civilizations of Central Asia 3 (Paris 1996), on Academia.edu here.

6. The program is discussed by Bethwell A. Ogot, “African Historiography: From colonial historiography to UNESCO’s General history of Africa” in Groniek No. 122 (Groningen 1993), pp. 71–78, online here, and Jan Vansina, “UNESCO and African Historiography” in History in Africa Vol. 20 (Cambridge 1993), pp. 337–352, DOI: 10.2307/3171979.

7. Those volumes being, respectively, G. Mokhtar (ed.), Ancient Civilizations of Africa, UNESCO General History of Africa 2 (London 1981), online here; M. El Fasi with I. Hrbek (edd.), Africa from the Seventh to the Eleventh Century, UNESCO General History of Africa 3 (London 1988), online here; and D. T. Niane (ed.), Africa from the Twelfth to the Sixteenth Century, UNESCO General History of Africa 4 (London 1984), online here.

8. Clearest in Cheikh Anta Diop, “Origin of the ancient Egyptians” in Mokhtar, Ancient Civilizations, pp. 27–82 at pp. 27-40, which all deal with whether the ancient Egyptians counted as black or not. The author concludes that it has been shown that they were but the editor of the volume felt he had to contradict this in a following note, p. 51 & n. 74. Of course the debate is still a very live one: the relevant Wikipedia page is relatively polite, overall, but still has 341 notes…

10. Diop, “Origin of the ancient Egyptians”, pp. 59-78, inc. this on p. 77:

It is desirable… that an international inquiry be organized by UNESCO, either by consulting universities in a sufficient number of countries, or by consulting individual experts of international repute, or alternatively by convening a symposium, with a view to establishing very precise standards on the strictest possible scientific principles for defining races and for identifying the racial type of exhumed skeletons.

In case that sounds unlikely to have been entertained, it should be pointed out that UNESCO had already paid for the conference.

11. Stuart Tyson Smith and Michelle R. Buzon, “Cross-Frontier Interactions in Roman Europe, AD 100‒350: the graphic model applied” in Ulrike Matthies Green and Kirk E. Costion (eds), Modeling Cross-Cultural Interaction in Ancient Borderlands (Gainesville FL 2018), pp. 89-113, on JSTOR here. Their criterion for telling Egyptian from Nubian skulls is, would you believe it, variation; “Egyptian” ones vary little from some typological average and “Nubian” ones vary lots. By this logic, basically Nubians are weird Egyptians, and any Nubian in the right range would be Egyptian. And this got published.

12. Mario Šlaus, Zeljko Tomicić, Ante Uglesić and Radomir Jurić, “Craniometric relationships among medieval Central European populations: implications for Croat migration and expansion” in Croatian Medical Journal Vol. 45 (Zagreb 2004), pp. 434–444, on ResearchGate here. For France, see references in Bonnie Effros, Merovingian Mortuary Archaeology and the Making of the Early Middle Ages, The Transformation of the Classical Heritage 35 (Berkeley CA 2003), pp. 141-154, not doing it herself, I should make clear, but critiquing those who are, with gender deduced from skulls additionally in her sights over pp. 161-162.

13. Not least because decolonising our curriculum is arguably missing the biggest point of all anyway, made forcefully by Eve Tuck and K. Wayne Yang, “Decolonization is not a metaphor” in Decolonization: Indigeneity, Education & Society Vol. 1 (Toronto 2012), pp. 1–40, online here and very important reading.

14. Innocent Pikirayi, “Gold, Black Ivory, and Houses of Stone: historical archaeology in Africa” in Martin Hall and Stephen W. Silliman (edd.), historical archaeology, Blackwell Studies in Global Archaeology 9 (Malden MA 2006), pp. 230–250.