Introduction

From the time the Romans dubbed the Mediterranean, Mare Nostrum, the history of the Mediterranean as an environment, a space of networks or a site of civilisational conflict has been overshadowed by its northern shores. The concept of ‘our sea' introduced by the Romans was picked up in the nineteenth century by the French, who justified their conquest of the Maghrib, by maintaining that they were following in Rome's footsteps and re-claiming the southern shores for western civilisation (Lorcin 2002). In the twentieth century, the Italians, in the guise of ‘new Rome', similarly justified their imperialism and the incursion into Libya and the horn of Africa (Ben-Ghiat and Fuller 2008). In the intervening period between the decline of Roman hegemonic influence in the region and the rise of France and Italian aspirations to emulate Roman imperialism, the Mediterranean has been as much a site of contestation as it has of peaceful networks of migration and trade. Correspondingly, the historiography of the sea from the northern perspective has been one of an enclosed space, a space whose specific characteristics, whether environmental or cultural, set it apart (Braudel 1949; Horden and Purcell 2000; Tillion 1983). In this image of the Mediterranean, the southern shores are envisioned as sites whose interaction is essentially across the sea to its bordering territories, rather than far beyond it.

A significant historiographical thread has been the discordant relationship between the northern Christian states and the southern Islamic ones. The Belgian historian, Henri Pirenne, in his posthumously published work, Mohammed and Charlemagne, argued, in what is now known as the ‘Pirenne thesis’, that it was not the Germanic tribes who invaded the southern shores, but the advance of Islam that eventually disrupted trade and led to the West's decline in the Middle Ages (1939). His thesis has been debated (Frank 1993; Havighurst 1976; Hodges 1983; Horden and Purcell 2000), but as Horden and Purcell point out, although his thesis is mistaken, it is invigorating in that it is ‘immensely valued for its assertion of continuity' in the area (33). It is worth pointing out, however, that at the time it was written, it (consciously or inadvertently) reflected the historiographical conceit of French colonial scholarship on the area – and in particular colonial Algeria – which claimed that Islam had been a negative force in the region obliterating the culture of classical antiquity and shattering the unity of the area.

In the second half of the twentieth century, the historiography of the Mediterranean has developed under the shadow of Braudel's magnum opus on the Mediterranean world during the era of Philip II of Spain (1949). Braudel refuted Pirenne's claim arguing that the area's unity brought together its various shores through trade, diplomacy and travel, but his conceptualisation of the Mediterranean world was also developed at a time when France was still a colonial power in North Africa, a fact, according to Strachan, that permeated his work (2011). Furthermore, inclusive though it is, the centre of gravity of the work was the northern shore of Spain. Braudel's work has had a profound influence on Mediterranean scholarship (Piterberg, Ruiz, and Symcox 2010). As a result, much of the ground-breaking scholarship on the area has remained centred on the medieval or early modern periods (Abulafia 2011; Horden and Purcell 2000). The focus on the Mediterranean as a single analytical field has not only created the concept of a unified space, whether environmental, economic or cultural, but also promoted the idea that its uniqueness came from this unity.

Recent scholarship has argued that the notion of unity is a western ideological construct that served the purposes of European hegemonic inclinations (Cooke, Erdag, and Parker 2008; Matar 2013). Indeed, Matar argues that Arab scholarship only saw the Mediterranean as ‘the in-between sea' in the twentieth century, before which it had had multiple names, usually associated with a specific place along its shores, thus fracturing its unity and providing an image of multiplicity rather than unity¹ (Matar 2013). Be that as it may, the notion of a unified space has not gone away. With the advent of globalisation and the creation of subordinate trading or commercial organisations, Mediterranean unity has become a political and commercial actuality. The Mediterranean Union, first mooted in 1995, now comprises the member states of the European Union and most of the countries from the southern and eastern shores of the Mediterranean. The Secretariat, created in 2008, and headquartered in Spain, enjoys the ‘privileges and immunities of an international organization'.² In 2013, the inaugural conference of the Society for Mediterranean Law and Culture chose the term, Mare Nostrum, for its title. The concept of unity seems to have come full circle.

The articles in this special issue take a somewhat different view of the Mediterranean. They are the result of a workshop held at the University of Minnesota in 2013 during which the importance of the southern shores of Mediterranean was discussed and debated. Although they do not contest the significance of the Mediterranean as a space of unique exchanges, networks and environmental influences, they do contest the notion of a space circumscribed solely by the territories along its shorelines. The activities emanating from or transiting through the southern shores are, according to these articles, multi-directional and wide reaching. Hence the concept of the influence of the Mediterranean is no longer limited to the sea and its shores but extends South beyond the Sahara and North beyond the bordering nations, as far afield as the USA.

The first two articles in the collection deal with trade networks, albeit of very different commodities. Aomar Boum's article examines the export from sub-Saharan and North Africa of ostrich feathers, a luxury product that reached a fashionable high point in late nineteenth-century Europe and the USA before being revitalised in the twentieth. The later-day renewed interest in ostrich feathers as a fashion accessory was, according to Boum, coupled with growing importance in ostrich meat consumption. Boum's arguments centre on the economic and environmental consequences of European and American demands for ostrich products on North and sub-Saharan African societies from both an environmental and economic perspective. The article thus demonstrates the multi-directional networks emanating from and encompassing the Mediterranean's southern shores and their long-term impact.

The second article, by Ismael Montana, examines the slave trade between sub-Saharan Africa and Ottoman Tunisia, countering the argument that the rise of maritime trade in the Mediterranean in the modern period diminished the commercial importance of trans-Saharan trade. Rather, he argues, capitalist penetration in the western Mediterranean from the late eighteenth century had a profound impact on the Saharan slave trade. By analysing the interactions of the this trade in conjunction with the economic and political changes that were taking place during this period, Montana provides a more complex picture, demonstrating the importance of the triangular relationship between North Africa, Africa and Europe.

Tim Cleaveland picks up the topic of slavery in the third article of this collection. His is the first of three articles that look at the intellectual or social impact of African or North African personalities beyond the borders of their individual residences. He considers the work of the Berber scholar, Ahmad Baba al-Timbukti, who sought to put an end to racial slavery by persuading North African scholars to accept the Islamic status of Muslims in West Africa, which, in accordance with standards laid down in Islamic law, should prohibit their enslavement. He focuses on Ahmad Baba's legal treatise, Mi‘raj al-Su‘ud, which catalogued the Muslim and non-Muslim populations of West Africa with the aim of clarifying their status with regard to enslavement. Cleaveland does not, however, attempt to present Ahmad Baba as a prototypical anti-slaver, but rather demonstrates the ambiguities of Ahmad Baba's thought as expressed in his treatise.

Shamil Jeppie's article moves us into the twentieth century by focusing on the role of the Timbuktu bibliophile, Ahmed Bul'araf, in the circulation of manuscripts and books throughout the Maghrib and the Middle East. Jeppie makes the all-important point that the dominance of Area Studies, which divided the African continent into distinct areas of scholarly research, has short-changed Africa in that it has obscured histories and historiographies in the interstices between the areas. Thus, networks, links and movements cross the Sahara from south to north or east to west are either overlooked or ignored. By examining the intellectual trajectory and activities of Bul'araf, Jeppie demonstrates the importance of the well-connected individual in establishing long-lasting networks radiating through and beyond the southern shores in many directions. Books and manuscripts become the object, and individuals the conduit, via which these networks are created and maintained. Books and manuscripts are a unique commodity in that their lifespan can not only be long-lasting but also uncommonly influential in diverse social and cultural spheres, thus time and space are reconfigured in compelling ways.

The third article in the trilogy about the centrality of personalities is Beverley Mack's examination of the ramifications of the scholarly reputation of the nineteenth-century teacher and activist, Nana Asma'u dan Fodio. Her intellectual reach extended beyond her homeland of what is today Nigeria through the Maghreb to America, where it had a formative influence on American Qadiriyya groups. Of particular note is the method by which these American groups adapted Asma'u's nineteenth-century educational model to suit twentieth- and twenty-first-century technological contexts. Connected to this adaptation is of course the way in which the West African and Maghribi practices of Islam are modified to accommodate the politics and needs of Muslim converts in the USA. Crucially, Mack reminds us that in the pre-colonial era there was no political divide between the Maghrib region and what is now Nigeria. In fact the region called the Maghrib extended far beyond the present northern shores into Mali and Mauretania. She thus reinforces the issue's central contention that the southern shores of the Mediterranean extend well beyond the countries making up its coastline.

The remaining two articles, whose directional networks are the two-way exchanges between the southern and northern shores, concern developments since the early 1990s. Paul Silverstein looks at the impact that Berber emigration has had on south-eastern oases in Morocco. He points out that whereas the oasis discourse on emigration is often of social abandonment and cultural death, emigration has also been instrumental in the survival of many of these oases, which have been challenged by overpopulation and the vagaries of weather or crop infestations. In such cases, emigration remittances have been a boon, providing the wherewithal for families to palliate, or even overcome, economic and financial difficulties. Silverstein provides a complex picture of the history and social structures of the oases, while examining the symbolic and material relationship of Berber mobility. His analysis makes an important contribution to diasporic politics.

Ted Swedenberg's contribution examines music as a form of protest and as a vehicle for potential political change. He traces the trajectory of Rai and Rap as interpreted by Maghrebi and African musicians from the ethnic margins to the mainstream of French popular music, thus shadowing the emerging political and cultural presence of Algerian-French and African-French in the metropole. The 1980s saw the rise throughout Europe of nationalist groups that used racism as a rallying point in their political platforms. Initially a response to these developments, the protest lyrics of Rai and Rap caught the imagination of a younger generation, an audience that extended beyond the milieu of its ethnic origins. Although Swedenberg stops short of claiming a casual relationship between the music and political change, it is incontestable that Rai and Rap have had a cultural and social impact. If the political goals remain elusive, the music has certainly contributed to raising the awareness of the problems facing both non-French immigrant and French nationals of immigrant origin and, in the process, firmly established their presence in French society.

Taken together these articles reconsider the concept of the Mediterranean as an enclosed sea where exchanges occur essentially between its immediate shores and highlight the importance of the southern shores in creating commercial, social and intellectual links far beyond the territories along its coastlines.

Notes

1. ‘The Sea of Andalus, the Sea of Maghrib, the Sea of Alexandria, the Sea of Syria, the Sea of Constantinople, the Sea of the Franks, and the Sea of the Europeans/Byzantines … are one sea.' Yāqūt al-Ḥamawī (d. 1229), Mu‘jam al-buldān. Quoted by Matar, unpublished manuscript.

2. http://ufmsecretariat.org/who-we-are/ (accessed July 7, 2014).