‘Saharan studies’ has recently captured renewed attention as a result of the wider context of ‘foreign military interventions’ (7). Yet, sources have regularly portrayed Northern Chad and the Saharan desert as ‘next to places where “history” happens’ (18), a marginal vacuum rather than a genuine locus, a transitional zone that travellers only cross. The Value of Disorder, by geographer Julien Brachet and anthropologist Judith Scheele, provides a creative and elegant attempt to debunk this image of emptiness, marginality and desolation. Drawing on an original, manifold combination of early classical accounts by precolonial explorers, local sources and long-term ethnographic research, the authors offer a fantastic range of perspectives on this little-researched land. They notably unravel the complex values of the Tubus. “Tubu” is an all-encompassing term devised by outsiders to refer to a major ethnic group of the Sahara, divided into Dazagada and Tedaga. As the authors note, they locally hold an incendiary reputation for pride, love of anarchy, and fearlessness.
The book begins by recalling the history of Faya and the broader Borkou region (Chapters 1 and 2), starting by examining its ‘boom and bust’ (75). Precolonial explorers like Gustav Nachtigal (1834–1885) characterised Borkou as isolated and empty. Yet, the authors argue that, by contrast, Borkou has been highly vulnerable to foreign interferences. The Sanussiya, a 19th-century Sufi brotherhood, settled decades prior to the French colonial conquest which ignited a state-building process. The Second World War and General Leclerc briefly brought Borkou to the global spotlight, emphasising once again the role of external factors in defining ‘regional connectivity’ (56). Post-colonial times saw the turmoil of the civil war (1966–1987). This war is too often interpreted in terms of simplistic oppositional categories (‘“Libyans” versus “Chadians”, “Arabs” versus “Tubus”’) (132) which confuse causes and consequences: indeed, identities were strengthened by armed struggles but did not necessarily – or not solely – provoke them. The authors demonstrate that the war provided resources and reworked local economies in ways that had lasting effects after its end and the rise to power of President Habré (1982–1990). Habré also extended the fist of national armed forces over Northern Chad, generating state revenues through taxation.
Community rivalries and struggles for lands and control of value production are exposed in Chapter 3. It ponders the case of the nomadic, land-owning Anakazza who feuded with the sedentary agriculturalist Kamaya over the control of the palm grove. The Anakazza despised the Kamaya as presumed slave descendants (a claim that was never really substantiated). Their animosity culminated in the bloody 2006 land conflict. The events illustrate the connections between land struggle and social hierarchies
Chapter 4 adds reflection on political economy by dealing with the organisation of trade in Faya. Dissecting fascinating trader stories, the authors analyse the trans-Saharan trade and its legacy which created opportunities for quick gains in the city through ‘garages, weapons or uniforms’ (215). Narratives spread by inhabitants of Faya glorify fast accumulation as well as lavish generosity.
Chapter 5 paradoxically identifies Faya as a ‘half-world’ (217), a place dependent on external wealth. Generous, sometimes excessive, donations by wealthy men to kin or acquaintances are worshipped (what the authors term ‘the glory of giving’) (221) while personal autonomy is valued. Raids targeting outsiders are applauded, blurring the line between theft and gift and underlining the predominance of predation over production. These dynamics undermine the very notion of ‘transactions’ (255) or ‘wealth circulations’ (255) inasmuch as an emphasis is placed on individualities. As such, exogamic marriages are also construed as a non-reciprocal business.
The final chapter tackles the popular, misleading assumption of ‘Tubu anarchy’ (256) and analyses the political life of Faya, where violence punctuates the everyday of both men and women. The inclination of Tubu towards autonomy does not preclude a genuine political order mediated by state institutions. These grant significant autonomy to the city but also meddle in local politics and feature strongly in the lives of many young men and women attracted by a military career.
As the foregoing chapter summary attests, this very rich book deals simultaneously with complex issues (kinship, tradecraft, state power) and offers a complete and captivating overview of the functioning of the ‘Tubu society’ (although the authors insist this expression carries little sense). The specific object of study may be difficult to discern clearly, partly as a result of the multifarious sources used by the authors and the pluridisciplinary stance they favour. The structure of the book is dense, and readers may feel the authors sometimes ‘jump’ from one topic to another: from military conquest to tradecraft, from wealth accumulation to the state and everyday violence, and so on. Nevertheless, readers will learn a considerable amount about the Sahara, the Tubus and Faya. In some ways, the book brilliantly revives the tradition of old-fashioned ethnographic monographs that set out to study systematically a region or a people. The authors also demonstrate the relevance of Chadian Sahara as an area of study in African and global affairs. Overall, the book is a must read for anyone interested in the Sahara as well as economic anthropology or geography in Africa.