The enigmatic Touareg people have been struggling for survival for over forty years. Drought and state repression menace their future. And from that VW names a giant SUV after them. Why?
The Germans have interesting names for their cars. The Bora is a cold, north to northeast wind that blows down from the mountains of Hungary and across the Adriatic Sea. The Passat is a tradewind and also may be an old name for a trader’s sailboat. And of course the warm desert winds that blow from Africa across the Mediterranean are known as the Scirocco. Apparently VW claims the Golf is some sort of transliteration of gulf stream currents, but that seems like a stretch to me.
Was the name “Touareg” intended to draw attention to their survival or elevate world consciousness about these people? Doubtful. That’s about as likely as Porsche trying to help Cayenne drivers learn to add a little spice to their palate. Was it the Germans making light of yet another French colonial debacle of international proportions? Nah. Marketing is probably just marketing and someone thought the Touareg (for those who have heard of them) represent strength and survival in harsh conditions; exactly the sort of thing that a soccer mom driving around suburban American can really appreciate. Hmmm, when will a car company name one of their vehicles “the soccer mom”?
Incidentally, someone recently said to me that they think cars shouldn’t be named after people at all. I agree! The “New Yorker” was a horrible name for a car and certainly did no justice to inhabitants of that fine city. In its original incarnation it was a 19 foot 5000 pound monster with a 440 cubic inch engine that burned gasoline like it would never disappear. Does that say “New Yorker” to you?
Alas, a web search for Touareg brings up 10,000 pointers to an automobile. Well, who knows what the impact of that will be, but I just thought I might be able to do my part and bring a little attention back to international history as well as poetry by talking about the real people here.
In brief: the Touareg (who call themselves Kel Tamsheq) live in the southern Sahara, dispersed across the borders of several countries including Algeria, Mali, Libya, and Niger. Despite this separation they share a common language apparently related to Berber. They are perhaps most known historically for establishing the north African city Timbuktu in the 10th century near the Niger river and fostering trade including scholarship, literature and books.
They were essentially tribes of caravans around the Sahara with agricultural work performed by non-Touareg serfs. Fast forward several hundred years to their fierce resistance to French colonization in the 1890s — colonial guns against swords of the nomads. The French feared them as raiders, which led to massacres of the nomadic minority. They were thus forced to sign treaties that led to oppression by the state. Their attempt to gain autonomy during the Mali independence movement in the 1960s failed and so they struggled as dislocated minorities through severe African drought in the 1970s and 1980 that devastated their livelihood. With little or no control of government, and rampant corruption, foreign aid rarely was distributed where it was needed most.
Their suffering resulted in a cultural revival and rebellion. By the start of the 1990s the Touareg attempted again to gain more autonomy in Niger and Mali through armed resistance. This led many into years of rebel training camps, imprisonment and even exile to Mauritania, Algeria and Burkina Faso. The mid-1990s, finally saw cease-fire agreements and they are apparently doing better under President Konare.
I think. Anyway, the Touareg are said to be famous for their literature, wit and poems, especially women’s love songs, but I have had a hard time finding any examples that aren’t buried away in impenetrable ethnographic tomes. Instead I have been listening to an all-woman call-and-response group called Tartit (apparently their name means “united” or “union”). Some of the more interesting things about the Touareg traditions include the fact that despite the prevalence of Islamic influence only men wear veils. Women are also allowed to divorce and choose their own husbands. And perhaps most shocking is that men aren’t allowed to play the tinde (drum). Yes, I’m being sarcastic, although I have to admit that women drummers are rare in Western culture and almost unheard of in military/marching bands. Touareg men instead play an imzad (guitar) or tehardent (violin). Thus they appear to be a people known for wit, pride and fearlessness and the women clearly play a dominant/respected role. All this tells me that their lyrics and poetry may have some interesting insights and matrilineal perspectives that we would be wise to preserve before it is too late. My favorite song so far is Holiyane Holiyana, that is said to tell the story of a man who seduced women by advising them to beware of him. I might have botched the translation, though.
If only I could find someone who could point me to the language of the Touareg poems…perhaps next year I’ll have to attend the Festival in the Desert and sit among the indigo robes in the sand.
And if anyone’s looking for a real mind-bender, check out the MIT puzzle pages called Timbuktu. I especially like the History Lesson puzzle, which reminded me of the news about the code buried in the da Vinci ruling not to mention Scott Crosby’s infamous method of hiding DeCSS code in a news report about the DeCSS trial itself.
Bob Lutz is an interesting guy. He takes the reigns of Pontiac and the first thing he does is kill off all the plastic cladding on cars like the Grand Am. I hated that stuff too. Then he puts down the gauntlet and says Pontiac is going to make cool cars again, the kind of vehicles that are no-nonsense affordable and fun; the sort of thing people get excited about actually driving and it is supposed to cost less than $20K. Can you believe it?