Noble Blood - Queen Njinga's Cleverness

Episode Date: February 2, 2021

Queen Njinga ruled the united kingdoms of Ndongo and Matamba while facing off against the constant threat of Portuguese colonization. All it took was the cunning to know who to trust and when. [Support Noble Blood on Patreon here: https://www.patreon.com/noblebloodtales. Noble Blood merch is available here: https://store.dftba.com/collections/noble-blood] Learn more about your ad-choices at https://www.iheartpodcastnetwork.comSee omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

This is an I-heart podcast. Guaranteed Human. What's up, everyone? I'm Ago Vodam. My next guest, it's Will Ferrell. Woo, woo, woo, woo. My dad gave me the best advice ever. He goes, just give it a shot.

But if you ever reach a point where you're banging your head against the wall and it doesn't feel fun anymore, it's okay to quit. If you saw it written down, it would not be an inspiration. It would not be on a calendar of, you know, The cat, just hang in there. Yeah, it would not be. Right, it wouldn't be that. There's a lot of luck.

Listen to Thanks, Dad, on the IHeartRadio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts. Welcome to Noble Blood, a production of IHeart Radio and Grimmin Mild from Aaron Manky. Listener discretion is advised. By the 16th century, Europeans interested in the conquest and colonization of Africa were forced to move inward. further away from the western coast of the continent and towards its center. But the land there was difficult to traverse thanks to waterfalls, some over 300 feet high, and sporadic shallows in the river, which may travel by water challenging, to say nothing of the constant threat of crocodiles and hippos.

The largest kingdom in Central Africa was Congo, stretching over 300 miles, long, although the arid western side of the kingdom made it inhospitable and meant that the population was primarily concentrated in the city of Mbanzah Congo. Portugal had arrived to Central Africa with the ostensible goal of converting the local population to Catholicism and the added benefit of joining in on the lucrative slave trade. King Alfonso of the Congo submitted to the Portuguese under a mutual beneficial arrangement. He converted to Catholicism, allowed the Portuguese to engage in the slave trade, and in return, he used Portuguese military power to continue the expansion of his own kingdom against neighboring states. One of those states to the south of Congo was Ndongo, the second largest

kingdom in Central Africa. When the Portuguese built a fort in Luanda directly on the border encroaching on Ndongo territory, the king of Ndongo knew something had to be done. And so, in 1622, the king sent his sister Njinga to negotiate. Njinga knew what a precarious situation she was walking into. Trading with colonialist Europeans was something of an arms race amongst the kingdoms of Central Africa. You didn't want to be the last kingdom left without guns. But Njinga had seen what had happened to King Alfonso and the Bikongo people.

The goal for her was preserving independence and autonomy. She needed to negotiate with Portugal in a way that would give her kingdom access to Portuguese resources, but also that would keep Portugal from absorbing her kingdom entirely. The Portuguese governor, Zhuao D'Souza, showed up for the meeting in formal European dress, and he sat on a high seat. There was only one chair in the room. When Nijinga entered, D'Souza indicated that she should sit on the carpet. It was, of course, a classic power move,

to make her sit and attempt to negotiate with him as equals, when she was physically put already in the position of an African who had been conquered. But instead of kneeling, Jinga gestured for one of her ladies' maids to get on all fours. The woman became a human chair. Jinga sat on her back and conducted the meeting at eye-level with the Portuguese governor. That anecdote, which has been retold for hundreds of years, and been the subject of numerous artistic renderings, is perhaps the best possible embodiment of Njinga's fascinating legacy,

a woman who defied European colonialism with cleverness and flair, but also sometimes on the backs, figuratively and literally, of her subjects. After her brother's death, Njinga would become a conquering queen and an inspiration for the spirit of African independence against colonialists, even to the present day. But she's also a complex figure. Of course, as a female African ruler, propaganda from European missionaries would paint her in incredibly racist and sexist terms, claiming she was a cannibal and extremely sexually promiscuous. But more credible historians, particularly Dr. Linda Hayward,

would, have worked to uncover the truth behind the bluster, both positive and negative. Another historian, Aurora Levin Morales, writes of Queen Jenga in her essay, Historian as Coranderra. Quote, she was a fierce anti-colonial warrior, a militant fighter, a woman holding power in a male-dominated society, and she laid the basis for successful Angolan resistance to Portuguese colonialism all the way into the 20th century. She was also an elite woman living off the labor of others, who fought other African people on behalf of the Portuguese

and collaborated in the slave trade. It is in many ways more empowering when we tell the stories of our heroic figures as contradictory characters full of weakness and failures of insight. It enables us to see our own choices and potentials more clearly and to understand that imperfect people can have a powerful, liberating impact on the world." By the end of her meeting with the Portuguese governor, Njinga had agreed to convert to Christianity as a means of securing a peace treaty. As she left, her servant remained on all fours. The Portuguese called after her.

You're not going to take your chair, they said. Njinga shrugged. I have many more chairs where I come from. I'm Dana Schwartz, and this is Noble Blood. The future Queen Njinga was born to the soon-to-be king Mbande and one of his enslaved wives. Her father became king, or Ngolla, when Njingo was 10. The present-day country of Angola, which encompasses what was once the Andongo kingdom, actually gets its name from a European misunderstanding of that word,

Ngola, king. Njinga's mother's name was Kingala, and as an enslaved woman, she was presented to the king as a gift, but she soon became his favorite companion, eventually receiving the title of Principal Concubine, which is the status just below chief wife. According to legend, when Njinga was born,

she was breach, with the umbilical cord wrapped tightly around her neck, threatening her airflow. The newborn baby was turning blue. But even as an infant, Njinga clung to life, and she twisted herself out of the umbilical cord and earned herself her first breath. Njinga also earned her name that way, from the Kimbundu language verb Kijinga to twist and turn. According to local tradition,

a baby who survives being born with an umbilical cord wrapped around its neck is a symbol that they'll grow up to be powerful and proud. But Njinga's birth was also prophetic in another way. It foreshadowed the way that she would be able to manipulate situations to her advantage, to be able to twist and turn and adapt amongst various tribes and European allies in order to protect herself and her kingdom. Nginga, clever and hard-working, quickly became her father's favorite child. Though no women were actually rulers of the Ndongo kingdom, they weren't excluded from the political sphere either. Njinga's father became king when she was ten, and she was constantly at his side, standing at his knee and learning while he conducted various diplomatic affairs and meetings.

She learned how to fight and received the same military training as her brother. and she also learned Portuguese. Because she was a woman, her brother didn't see her aptitude as a threat. He just saw her as her clever sister. Isn't it sweet how much time she spends with Dad? The monarchy in the Nandango Kingdom wasn't a direct father-to-son dynasty. It was a little more game of thronesy, in which there were a number of eligible possible kings based on their royal lineages,

and any one of them could be selected, or one of them could establish themselves as king in a show of force, like Njinga's brother Mbondi did by more or less staging a coup before the formal counsel decision was made after their father's death. But Nbondi's fragile hold on the throne in the early days meant that he had to be vigilant of every possible threat. According to the story, Njinga had a son at this point,

and Mbondi, afraid that his nephew might one day usurp him, killed the baby, and for grotesque good measure, forcibly sterilized Njinga with hot oil and herbs to make sure that she could never have any more male heirs. Because Njinga was a woman, she was allowed to live. She wasn't seen as a threat to his throne. But after being on the receiving end of such extreme violence, Njinga fled the kingdom. Maybe there was a chance that her brother in his paranoia might have seen her as a threat after all. But for the next few years, Njinga stayed in the nearby kingdom of Matamba, while Mbondi solidified his position as king, and became newly aware of the quagmire his kingdom was facing in regards to Portugal.

Maybe he begged, or maybe he didn't have to. But in 1621, Njinga returned to the kingdom of Ndongo at her brother's behest in order to act as his ambassador with the Portuguese governor. Njinga was an invaluable asset. She was fluent in Portuguese and had spent her entire childhood learning diplomacy beside her father. This is the point in the story when Njinga met with Governor D'Souza in Luanda, the infamous human chair comeback of 1622. While most African diplomats met with their European counterparts in European clothes, Nginga made the tactical decision to wear her own traditional clothing. First in the negotiations, she refused point blank for her kingdom to offer Portugal anything in tribute.

They were equals, she argued. If they were going to give them anything, it would be as a a gift. Eventually, a settlement was reached. In exchange for opening trade routes to the Portuguese and Njingo becoming baptized, Portugal would withdraw from Ndongo territory and recognize its national sovereignty. But the peace would be short-lived. Ndunga was under threat from a new kingdom called Kassanja, made up of Mbangala warrior soldiers who had broken ranks with the Portuguese. Ndunga was attacked, and the king, Mbondi, was forced to flee and go into exile. Now, because the king of Nandango was now exiled and unbaptized, the Portuguese decided that they didn't need to honor the treaty that they had negotiated with Njinga. After all, she had negotiated on behalf of a king who wasn't

Christian and wasn't really a king anymore. And so, with most of Western Africa already gutted from the slave trade, and monopolized by the French and English, the Portuguese came for Central Africa with a fervor. According to Dr. Haywood, between 1580 and 1640, the majority of enslaved Africans brought to the Americas were from the Ndongo people in present-day Angola. In 1624, Mbondi, the king of endongo, died. It may have been poisoning, but more likely it was suicide, maybe out of shame for having not better protected his kingdom from the Portuguese. Though he made it very clear that his sister Njinga, diplomat extraordinaire, was his heir, most of the Ndongo nobility rejected her. Some because they thought that Ndongo should become a vassal state under Portugal, and others because they

straight out refused to acknowledge a female leader. Njinga was forced to flee her kingdom. Needing security, she joined up with the in Bengala camp for protection, although she was only allowed in on the conditions that she submit to their chief as his wife, which she did. As a new ward of the warrior in Bengala tribe, Njinga trained. This is the part of the story where if Njinga's life was a film, we would get an epic, rocky-style training sequence. Njinga would be a fierce fighter for the rest of her life, physically leading her soldiers into battle well into her 60s, and she learned much of that by training with the Mbangala people. She was already a diplomat, but after her period with the Mbengala,

she was a warrior. And as a warrior, Njinga wanted to retake her kingdom. But first, she knew. needed an army. Do you remember that neighboring kingdom of Matamba, the kingdom where Njinga had stayed after her brother killed her son and forcibly sterilized her? Well, Njinga went back to Matamba with a band of Mbangala soldiers and kidnapped their queen. She declared herself the new queen of Matamba, and using their army and their resources, she returned to Endongo and took the throne to which she was entitled. For 40 years, Njinga was the queen of the United Kingdoms of both Ndongo and Matamba. Even with all of her political and military strength, Njinga understood that she needed

to subvert the negative assumptions that came with her being the first female Ndongo ruler. In a strategy not unlike Queen Elizabeth I of England, Njinga ceremonially became a man in order to reaffirm her legitimacy as a monarch. Just to be clear, it was a symbolic, ceremonial move, not a reflection of her gender identity. It just meant that Njinga acted in stereotypically masculine activities in order to assuage all doubt about her capabilities. She led battles, forced people to address her as king,

and kept male concubines. According to Dr. Haywood, Jinga forced her male concubines to dress in the female clothing of her female bodyguards. She made the men and women in her service sleep in the same room, but they were all required to remain chaste. If the men or women so much as touched one another, even if it was just an accidental graze in someone's sleep, he or she would be rendered impotent or infertile or even killed. Some of the other stories about Njinga's brutality have more nebulous sources and are, in this writer's opinion, evidence of the cultural European racism of missionaries reporting back. One missionary wrote that Njinga was a cannibal, that she delighted in bloody rituals, and that she forced the men in her harem to fight to the death in order to win the chance to spend a night with her.

Then, in the morning, even the winner would be put to death. Queen Jinga came to power in Africa through her military prowess, skillful manipulations of religion, successful diplomacy, and remarkable understanding of politics. Despite her outstanding accomplishments and her decades-long reign, comparable to that of Elizabeth I of England, she was vilified by European contemporaries and later writers as an uncivilized, savage, who embodied the worst of womankind, end quote. One more note about Njinga's historiographical legacy.

There are a number of different spellings of her name. Some of her own writings and letters even have her using her Europeanized baptismal name, Anna DeSouza. But I'm following the path of Dr. Haywood and going with N-J-I-N-G-A. I also find, for me, it visually makes that soft end sound easier to pronounce than the other common way of spelling Njinga, with a Z instead of a J. Ever willing to twist in turn as a political tactician, in 1631, Njinga formed an alliance with the Dutch West India Company, as the Dutch moved in against the Portuguese in Central Africa. The Dutch seized Luongo, and with their help, Nginga defeated the Portuguese army at Ngole in 1644. It's easy sometimes to skate past decades of battles and paint them all in broad swatches without actually becoming cognizant of the human toll that was sacrificed.

The tragedies, tiny and large, that get swept up and pushed to the back of a closet marked this or that war, because company is coming and we want all these things out of the way. But there was a human toll, especially on Queen Jinga, and an especially visceral one in 1646, when the Portuguese kidnapped her sister. Accurate accounts are difficult to come by, and some sources report that they actually captured two of her living sisters. But the Portuguese at least had one, a sister who had grown up in Dongo Biden, Jingle,

Njinga's side, who had been with her in experiencing the horrifying ordeal of being forcibly sterilized by their brother. Njinga's sister named Kifnugi remained behind Portuguese enemy lines for years, and we do have records of her writing back smuggled reports about Portuguese goings-on, which indicate that she might have been working as a spy. And that might be part of the reason that the Portuguese drowned her in the Kwanza River. Still, Njinga continued her fight. At this point, in her mid-60s, Njinga had her soldiers using guerrilla tactics against the Portuguese, and she oftentimes led the troops into battle herself. But the Dutch were defeated by the Portuguese in 1648, and they withdrew from Central Africa, eliminating one of Njinga's key allies. But soon she

would have another ally in her long struggle to maintain Ndongo sovereignty, the Vatican. Back when she was her brother's ambassador and she converted to Christianity in negotiations with the Portuguese, that conversion didn't really stick. In her heart, she was committed to the cultural sovereignty as well as the political sovereignty of her kingdom. And so pretty soon after her treaty with Portugal was dissolved, so too did her commitment to Christianity. But in her mid-60s, another flavor of missionary arrived in Nandongo, two Capuchin monks. Now, it's impossible to know exactly what Njinga's thought process was here. It's possible that the Capuchin monks, devoid of any political agenda, really spoke to her, and Nijinga felt connected to the Catholic faith.

Or it's possible that Njinga realized the value of becoming Christian as a means of a means of, establishing her country on the world stage as one of the Catholic nations recognized by the Pope. Or maybe it was a combination of the two factors, but for whatever reason, this time Njinga's Christianity seemed to stick. She saw to it that as many Ndungo and Matamba babies were baptized as possible, and she built an elaborate European-style church in her kingdom's capital. When traditional Ndongo priests were wary of their queens seemingly sudden left turn away from their spiritual teachings, Nginga performed a public rite in which she used holy relics from the remains of her brother's body, the former king, and asked him and their ancestors if they approved of her converting to Christianity if it meant that it would bring their nation peace. And, surprise, surprise, the holy relics agreed. agreed with her decision. In 1660, her efforts came to fruition in the form of a letter from

Pope Alexander the Seventh himself, recognizing her as a daughter in Christ and saying that he'd pray for her kingdom. During the end of her life, Nginga also turned her kingdom into a safe haven for formerly enslaved people escaping from slave-trading colonists, which was humanitarian, but also an effective strategy to increase her army's strength and further her kingdom's expansion. It's tempting to see that action as a symbol that Njinga was always fighting against slavery with the same zeal with which she fought for her nation's sovereignty. But the truth is a little more nuanced. Njinga and her family all owned enslaved people, and she would gift enslaved Africans to the Portuguese as diplomatic gestures. At certain times, she supported the Portuguese

slave trade. But I also think it's important to recognize that even as she engaged in the political realities of the time, her goal was always African sovereignty and protecting the strength and autonomy of her kingdom, even if she had to make horrific civil sacrifices in order to achieve her larger political goals. There are plenty of writers who speak far more eloquently about the impact of the European slave trade in Africa. Dr. Linda Haywood's entire book, Njinga of Angola, is a great resource for anyone who wants to learn more about this topic from an actual expert. Njinga made enemies, both domestic and Portuguese throughout her life. But despite numerous assassination attempts, Njinga's final revenge on her adversaries was dying peacefully in her sleep at age 80.

She knew how to lead and what it took to maintain power, especially against the encroaching threat of colonialism. Though Njingo requested a simple Christian burial in a capuchin habit, after her death her attendants couldn't help but sending her off with more traditional Ndongo adornments. According to Anne Theorio's essay on Njinga in her series, Queens of Infamy, quote, after she died, Njinga's body was carefully washed by her attendants, who anointed her with herbs, perfume, and powders.

Her hair was styled with corals, pearls, and feathers, and her crown was placed on her head. Her limbs were loaded down with jewelry and arrangements of elephant hair, a symbol of royalty. Her body was wrapped in two richly wrought brocade cloths and velvet slippers were placed on her feet. Then, mindful of her instructions, her attendants replaced all of this with a habit, crucifix, and rosary, although they left her hair and crown as they were. This ceremonial dressing and redressing represented a middle ground between the two traditions Njinga had spent decades navigating. Though Njinga was Ndongo's first female leader,

her sister took over after her death, and out of the next 104 years in Ndongo, 80 of those years would be under a female ruler. That's the life of Queen Njingo of modern-day Angola, but stick around after a brief sponsor break to hear more about her modern legacy. What's up, everyone? I'm Ego Vodom. My next guest, you know from Stepbrothers, Anchorman,

Saturday Night Live and the Big Money Players Network. It's Will Ferrell. Woo. Woo. My dad gave me the best advice ever. I went and had lunch with them one day. And I was like, and Dad, I think I want to really give this a shot. I don't know what that means, but I just know the groundlings.

I'm working my way up through and I know it's a place that come look for up and coming talent. He said, if it was based solely on talent, I wouldn't worry about you. Which is really sweet. Yeah. He goes, but there's so much luck involved. And he's like, just give it a shot. He goes, but if you ever reach a point where you're banging your head against the wall and it doesn't feel fun anymore, it's okay to quit.

If you saw it written down, it would not be an inspiration. It would not be on a calendar of, you know, the cat. Just hang in there. Yeah, it would not be. Right, it wouldn't be that. There's a lot of luck. Listen to Thanks Dad on the IHeart Radio app, Apple Podcast, or wherever you get your podcast.

Hey there, folks, Amy Robach and T.J. Holmes here. And we know there is a lot of news coming at you these days from the war with Iran to the ongoing Epstein fallout, government shutdowns, high-profile trials, and what the hell is that Blake lively thing about anyway? We are on it every day, all day. Follow us, Amy and T.J. for news updates throughout the day. Listen to Amy and T.J. on the IHeart radio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you listen to podcasts. For hundreds of years, Njinga has remained a powerful figure embodying African independence, across the entire continent, but also, of course, in the present-day country of Angola. In 1975, Angola finally broke free of Portuguese rule for good. And Nijinga, and everything she stood for, was a guiding symbol for those who fought to, once again, protect their nation from European imperial.

In 2002, they built a giant statue of Njinga, which was placed in a public square in Luanda. Today, the statue stands in the Angolan Museum of Armed Forces. But there's another reminder of Njinga's legacy that I find particularly interesting. She's a heroic figure in Africa, but also in the Americas where so many of her people were brought against their will. In Brazil, where many enslaved Africans were brought, there's a number of businesses that bear Njinga's name. A form of Brazilian martial arts called Capoeira frequently has studios named Njinga,

keeping her fighting spirit alive. Noble Blood is a production of IHeart Radio and Grimmin Mild from Aaron Manky. The show is written and hosted by Dana Schwartz and produced by Aaron Manky, Matt Frederick. Alex Williams and Trevor Young. Noble Blood is on social media at Noble Blood Tales, and you can learn more about the show over at Noble Blood Tales.com. For more podcasts from IHeartRadio,

visit the IHeartRadio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you listen to your favorite shows. What's up, everyone? I'm Ego Vodom. My next guest, it's Will Ferrell. Woo, woo, woo, woo, woo. My dad gave me the best advice ever. He goes, just give it a shot. But if you ever reach a point,

where you're banging your head against the wall and it doesn't feel fun anymore, it's okay to quit. If you saw it written down, it would not be an inspiration. It would not be on a calendar of, you know, the cat. Just hang in there. Yeah, it would not be. Right, it wouldn't be that. There's a lot of luck.

Listen to Thanks Dad on the IHeart Radio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts. This is an IHeart podcast. Guaranteed Human.