Trans-Saharan trade was a decisive factor in establishing the earliest contacts between West African populations and the Islamic world. These relations were not limited to the exchange of goods; they also served as vehicles for cultural and religious diffusion, contributing decisively to the gradual Islamization of the region. In this regard, C. Capel notes:

“Although the timing, forms, and agents of Islamization differed from one place to another, an overall dynamic can nevertheless be identified. An initial phase of contact with Islam began as early as the seventh and eighth centuries in the wake of merchants […] Muslim communities subsequently appeared on African soil, concentrated in commercial cities (such as Aoudaghost in Mauritania, Tadmekka in Mali, and Dongola in Sudan, among others), where sharing a common intellectual horizon was certainly an advantageous vehicle for trade. Islam and commerce remained closely intertwined, particularly through Islamized merchant communities (the Hawsas, Dioulas, and Swahilis) who, by traveling through rural areas, gradually extended the influence of the religion beyond urban elites” ([3]).

Indeed, from the end of the second millennium onward, trans-Saharan trade connected the Western Sudan to the Mediterranean and the Hejaz, within a system of exchanges whose prosperity between the eleventh and sixteenth centuries has been documented by D. T. Niane. These commercial exchanges contributed to the emergence in the Western Sahel of empires, kingdoms, and city-states whose prosperity was largely based on trans-Saharan trade. These included Ghana,Soso,Mali,Songhai, and Kanem-Bornu, among others. Through trans-Saharan trade, numerous Arab-Berber merchants settled in Walata,Niani,Timbuktu, and Gao, among other places ([21]).

Grégoire et al. reach a similar conclusion, emphasizing that the Sahel has always constituted a zone of interaction between the Sahara and the southern savannas. This flourishing trade gave rise to major merchant cities such as Koumbi-Saleh,Timbuktu,Gao,Djenné,Agadez, and Kano. These cities also maintained strong connections with southern Morocco, Tripolitania, and even Egypt, serving as major hubs in caravan trade through which goods were exchanged and redistributed. These long-distance exchanges sustained the prosperity of the major political entities that successively emerged in the Sahel ([8]).

Beyond the main trans-Saharan routes, other routes connected the Sahel with the forests of the south. Merchants exchanged salt, natron, iron, textiles, and craft products for kola nuts. Hausa networks extended particularly toward the Gonga and Ashanti regions, which were rich in kola, thereby contributing to the development of trading centers such as Salaga,Bobo-Dioulasso,Kong,Bouna, and Bondoukou. According to [8], these markets constituted a vital interface between the Sahel and the coastal regions. Gold deposits also occupied a particularly important position in these exchanges.

[13] highlights the decisive role played by various communities, particularly the Jula and Wangara, who were specialists in the collection and transportation of gold from forest regions. This gold, extracted through artisanal mining in Bambouk,Bouré, and along the Mouhoun (formerly the Black Volta), passed through Sahelian markets before reaching North Africa via Timbuktu and the caravan routes. Gold deposits constituted a vital resource for the Sahelian kingdoms. [6] explains how the Ghana Empire extended its influence as far as the mines of Bambouk and the Falémé. The gold extracted there supplied both royal treasuries and trade with caravans arriving from Tafilalet and the Drâa.

Located farther south, at the interface between the Sahel and the Sudanian savanna, the Moogo did not initially occupy a central position within this system. It subsequently became a dynamic southern outlet, crossed by caravans carrying salt from the Sahara and returning laden with gold, kola nuts, and enslaved people. Unlike other Sahelian areas, the earliest contacts between the Moogo and the Arab-Muslim world were not initially motivated by religious considerations. Rather, these exchanges began for another reason: gold.

The Moose kingdoms played a strategic role that deserves particular emphasis. They took advantage of their position as an interface between the agricultural regions of the south and the commercial routes of the north. Their military expeditions toward the north were not merely raids. These incursions represented, in the reading offered here, a deliberate strategy to integrate the Moogo into Sahelian networks and secure key commercial resources horses, salt, and luxury goods that were essential to the durability of royal authority and the development of trade. No contemporary source states this intent explicitly. The characterization of these expeditions as a deliberate strategy is this study’s inference from their recurrence and their consistent economic outcomes, not a documented statement of royal policy.

Thus, relations between the Moogo and Arab-Muslim spaces were based on strong economic complementarity. The Moose kingdoms primarily exported agricultural products, livestock, captives taken during precolonial warfare, kola nuts originating from southern regions, as well as various artisanal products. In return, caravans brought into the Moogo salt extracted from Saharan mines, horses intended for warrior elites, textiles imported from North Africa, weapons, metal objects, and luxury goods destined for royal courts ([12]).

The Moose kingdoms thus gradually exploited their position as a crossroads to establish themselves within trans-Saharan trade. Their success depended in particular on the expertise of the Yarse and, later, that of the Marãnse and Zãngoeto, who contributed to the establishment of several markets within the Moogo.

Overall, the Islamization that accompanied this trade took place largely through peaceful and gradual processes. In this regard, Triaud observes:

“Halfway between the sources of Sudanese gold, Islam appeared and developed in the wake of Arab and Berber merchants and conquerors. The major routes through which Islam penetrated West Africa were the routes of trans-Saharan trade: a western route through Sijilmâsa and Awdaghast (Aoudaghost), a central route through Tâdmakka, and an eastern route through the Fezzan and Kâwâr” ([27]).

In the Moogo, Islamization therefore proceeded gradually, initially through merchant elites and local authorities before spreading to wider segments of society. This process was largely carried out by Yarse,Marãnse,Zãngoeto, and Wangara merchants, who disseminated their faith as they traveled, without resorting to military coercion. This mode of diffusion, which Jean-Louis Triaud identified as the most common form of the early Islamization of Sudanic societies, reflects an essentially peaceful process of religious implantation ([27]). It should be noted that the “peaceful” character of this diffusion is documented directly only for the absence of recorded military coercion by merchant intermediaries; the broader claim that Islamization was uniformly non-violent throughout the Moogo remains an interpretive extrapolation from this narrower, better-attested pattern.

I. Cissé confirms this specifically in the case of the Moogo, identifying several social groups—Dioula,Marka,Yarse, and Marãnse, and, to a lesser extent, Fulani pastoralists—as historical actors who facilitated the commercial diffusion of Islam throughout this region ([5]).

In his seminal study of Islam, R. Otayek emphasizes the political consequences of this mode of penetration in the territory that would later become Burkina Faso. According to him, specific socio-historical conditions confined Islam to a position of social marginality and political subordination, whereas elsewhere in the surrounding regions, theocratic states were being established whose legitimacy was founded upon the Qur’an ([22]).

The Moogo benefited, in this respect, from its strategic geographical position at the crossroads between the Akan goldfields of the southwest and the caravan outlets of the Sahel. Resistant to the conquering form of Islam associated with successive religious wars, the Moogo nevertheless displayed considerable tolerance toward the commercial Islam introduced by Jula,Yarse,Marãnse, and Zãngoeto merchants. The Moaaga authorities allowed these merchants to settle and prosper in return for their respect for the traditional order and their allegiance to the Nanambse, the legitimate holders of Pãnga, that is, force or political authority ([22]).

Trade, however, was only the first channel of interaction. For Islam to become firmly rooted in Moaaga social structures, specific social groups had to emerge that were capable of embodying and transmitting religious practices within the Moogo itself. This was the role primarily played by several cultural and social intermediaries.

Intermediary groups played a decisive role in structuring relations between the Moogo and the Arab muslim world. Contrary to the notion that the spread of Islam was driven exclusively by conquest or by the preaching activities of major religious centers, exchanges within the Moose kingdoms relied primarily on specialized communities that served as bridges between Sahelian societies and customary authorities. The Yarse,Fulbe,Zãngoeto, and Marãnse served as the primary vectors of this economic, cultural, and religious mediation.

3.2.1. TheYarga Diaspora as the Foundation of a Commercial and Matrimonial Islam

Within Moaaga society, the Yarse constituted the community that most systematically mediated between the Moogo and the Arab-Muslim world. Michel Izard’s foundational studies demonstrated that the Yarse operated as a specialised mercantile group integrated into Moose societies over several centuries, facilitating the flow of commodities between local markets and trans-Saharan trade routes ([11]). Notably, they contributed to the establishment of one of the earliest markets in the Moogo, located at La, during the reign of Moognaaba Nasbiire.

Within the Moogo, these markets, like others, were also places where technological innovations, social practices, and cultural norms were disseminated. They facilitated the emergence of new languages of communication and commercial practices inspired by Muslim traditions. The regular presence of Yarse merchants from Mande hubs (such as Djenné and Timbuktu) also facilitated diplomatic and political information sharing. Markets thus became key arenas for transmitting regional news, forging commercial alliances, and monitoring religious developments across the Sahel ([25]).

This specialization extended into the administrative and diplomatic sphere. The Yarse also contributed to the dissemination of accounting practices, the use of Arabic script in certain commercial transactions, and the development of diplomatic relations with Muslim centers in the Sahel.

Their command of regional languages of communication and their knowledge of caravan routes made them indispensable intermediaries between Moose rulers and merchants arriving from Djenné,Timbuktu, or Kano. Their mastery of regional lingua francas and caravan routes enabled them to serve as essential intermediaries between Moose rulers and merchants from major commercial centers.

A. Kouanda devoted a substantial part of his scholarly work to the Yarse. He argues that the Yarse combined three major functions: a commercial function as intermediaries in large-scale caravan trade; a religious function as custodians of Qur’anic knowledge in Moaaga lands; and a function of cultural legitimation, whereby their status as integrated Muslim outsiders translated into a broadly recognized position within the social architecture of the kingdom ([17]).

This integration was by no means a one-way process of conversion from above or below. Kouanda highlights a reciprocal process of integration, which he terms yarsification, which he refers to as “yarsification.” Certain Moose individuals chose, for socioeconomic advantages, to align with Yarse identity, adopting patronyms such as Bikiẽnga,Soore,Rãabo,Giira,Kanazoe, and Sinõn ([17]).

In a seminal 1989 contribution, A. Kouanda examined whether Yarse Muslim religious practice functioned primarily as a factor of integration into Moaaga society or as a means of maintaining a distinct ethnic identity. His answer was nuanced: Yarse religious practice served both purposes simultaneously. It contributed to their economic and social integration while preserving a distinct cultural identity through the intergenerational transmission of Qur’anic knowledge ([17]).

Recognizing the economic benefits of long-distance trade within, Moose rulers encouraged Yarse settlement by granting land, offering credit, and facilitating martial alliances ([25]). The Nanambse needed specialists in long-distance trade in order to open up their kingdoms to wider commercial networks and derive greater benefits from these exchanges while maintaining a degree of control over them. The merchants, for their part, needed access to a broad market where they could operate with limited taxation and substantial security guarantees.

The Yarse thus contributed fundamentally to the development of economic activities and exchanges with societies located beyond the Moogo. This explains why they were repeatedly welcomed by the Nanambse, who expected to increase their fiscal revenues through the taxes and duties generated by the merchants’ economic activities ([25]).

In sum, the Yarse are widely recognized as pioneers of Islamization in the Moogo. According to [26], it was through their presence that Islam began to spread within the Moogo. Their dynamism enabled Islam to gain ground, sometimes at the expense of local beliefs, in chiefdoms such as Yaako,Sãamba, and Kõnkiistẽnga, where they exercised considerable influence within various structures of political authority.

The Moaaga royal power therefore made strategic use of this religious dynamic. From the eighteenth century onward, some Moose rulers began converting individually to Islam, primarily for pragmatic reasons. The objective was to strengthen social cohesion within the kingdom by consolidating the loyalty of Islamized groups, most of whom were Yarse, toward the Moognaaba ([22]).

After a long period of resistance, the Moognaaba himself eventually converted to Islam on a personal basis, a decision that was subsequently followed by members of his court and entourage. Paradoxically, Islam thus became an instrument for consolidating customary authority rather than a factor in its weakening.

Gradually, the religion that the Yarse had helped introduce acquired an almost official status, particularly during the reign of Naaba Rulgu, who appointed an imam to guide the emerging Muslim community ([25]). The imam represented the Muslim faithful. The long-standing presence of the Yarse, their relatively tolerant practice of Islam, and their adoption of Moore as their everyday language eventually convinced Moognaaba Naaba Rulgu to entrust them with the position of chief imam and leadership of the Muslim community ([17]).

The example set by Naaba Rulgu was soon followed elsewhere. Other Nanambse incorporated Yarse into their inner circles and assigned them religious responsibilities.

Across the Moogo, numerous chiefs gradually converted to Islam and sent their children to Qur’anic schools to learn Arabic, which was then a privileged language of international exchange. [17] notes that this was the case for the Moognanamse Sawoadgo (1825, 1842), Kutu (1854-1871), and Wobgo (1891-1897), who received instruction in Islam through these institutions.

These developments also contributed to the dissemination of circumcision and female circumcision within the Moogo. At the same time, this approach sought to involve the Muslim community in the administration of traditional political authority. The position of Yarnaaba (chief of the Yarse), appointed by each ruler, illustrates their growing involvement in political affairs. This office is directly attested in the sources cited; the stronger claim that the Yarse thereby altered Moaaga institutional structures, rather than being absorbed into an unchanged customary hierarchy, remains this study’s interpretation of that evidence.

The trajectory of the Yarse differed significantly from that of the Fulbe, another Muslim component of Moaaga society. The latter remained dispersed within the host society and did not benefit from the same degree of institutional openness and integration that characterized the experience of the Yarse.

3.2.2. TheFulbe: Pastoral Mobility and Religious Mediation

The Fulbe played a distinct yet crucial role in bridging the Moogo with the Muslim world. Their transhumance lifestyle connected ecological zones between the Sahel and Sudanian savanna, facilitating the movement of people, ideas, and religious practices. Integrated into West African commercial and intellectual networks, their seasonal migrations enabled the dissemination of legal concepts and Qur’anic teachings, while maintaining ties with major Islamic scholarly centers across the Sahel.

However, their presence in the Moogo extended beyond spiritual function. Oral traditions and anthropological studies reveal shifting relations with Moose authorities depending on the period and locality. While some pastoral communities forged strategic alliances with local political powers, others experienced tensions over access to grazing lands and water sources. This variability highlights that cultural transmission was neither uniform nor static; rather, it was continuously negotiated within local political frameworks.

The Fulbe exerted a significant influence on the political and religious organization of the Moose kingdoms, particularly through the gradual diffusion of Islam. A notable example is found in Kõnkiistenga, where Naaba Kõnkiss incorporated a Fulani herder into his inner circle during his expansion into the Moogo. Appointed Siilminaaba—chief of the Fulbe under his authority—was entrusted with overseeing the royal herd, known as Kiims-baagr, or the “herd of the ancestors.” These animals were reserved for sacrifices in honoring ancestral spirits; each successive ruler inherited the herd, thereby perpetuating a core political and ritual tradition ([25]).

Elsewhere, the Fulbe participated in the establishment of chiefdoms, such as Barkounda, while simultaneously fostering Islamic practices. The Barry lineage is widely recognised as key actors in the establishment of Fulani settlements within the Moogo. Their settlement at Niʋ, for instance, was facilitated through local alliances and a gradual process of social integration initiated largely by the Barry themselves ([25]).

Following these early Fulbe settlements, the Zãngoeto entered the Moogo, driven by the combination of commercial and religious activities.

3.2.3. The Zãngoetoand Marãnse as Actors in Regional Exchange Networks

The Zãngoeto (Hausa) and the Marãnse (Songhai) are less extensively represented in the historical literature, yet their role in organizing regional trade appears to have been fundamental. Several oral accounts from central and western Burkina Faso portray them as merchant groups engaged in transporting goods between local markets and Sahelian trading centers ([25]). Their extensive knowledge of trade routes and commercial practices enabled them not only to distribute their goods but also to transmit technical know-how and cultural influences. They traded textiles, salt, horses, metal objects, and other artisanal products originating from Muslim regions. Through these activities, they also indirectly contributed to the diffusion of certain forms of religious practice and linguistic influences. Markets were indeed key meeting points where material goods, political information, technical knowledge, and cultural references intersected.

The Zãngoeto served as a bridge between the Moose kingdoms and Muslim merchants arriving from the northern regions. Their influence was pivotal in the expanding trans-Saharan trade, dissemination Islamic practicesand the introduicing advanced artisanal techniques. Some of them even became notable figures or advisers within royal courts, where their expertise was highly valued. They maintained diverse relationships with local communities and were integrated into Moose royal courts as influential figures. This was the case in Waogdgo and in its subordinate chiefdoms, such as Nobre in southern Moogo and Lale (Kʋdgo) in western Moogo. Their presence is documented in arbitration processes and ritual ceremonies. Their establishment in Lale underscores the well-established hierarchical linkage between Waogdgo and its subordinate chiefdoms ([25]).

Their arrival also contributed to the development of forms of religious syncretism. Although they disseminated Islam, many continued to observe animist agricultural rites. For example, the Zãngoeto of Kʋdgo were responsible for safeguarding the sacred altar of the Zoma, where annual sacrifices were performed on an altar-stone located beside the mosque built by their ancestor Guelo. Such practices contributed to the spread of a Sufi-oriented form of Islam, marked by the development of the Tijaniyya and Qadiriyya traditions among Hausa Muslims, which became intertwined with Moose traditions. Some initiated Zãngoeto also practiced sand divination, in a manner comparable to that of the Bagba among the Yõnyõse ([25]).

The arrival of the Zãngoeto in the Moogo, a region previously dominated economically and religiously by the Yarse, introduced a dynamic commercial rivalry. To distinguish themselves, the Zãngoeto notably introduced Karfo and Nufa, ceremonial garments reserved for the aristocracy. Moognaaba Karfo reportedly derived his regnal name (Zab-yʋʋre) from this practice, which also gave its name to the Zãngoetẽ quarter, located east of the royal palace in Waogdgo ([25]). This quarter no longer exists, having been demolished as a result of urban development.

According to [17], in an effort to compete with and eventually surpass the Yarse, the Zangoeto (Hausa) specialized in the sale of women’s ornaments and the hides of wild animals, including buffaloes, lions, leopards, hyenas, and elephants. These hides were used in traditional pharmacopoeia to treat childhood illnesses such as measles, smallpox, chickenpox, and whooping cough.

What about the Marãnse?

The Marãnse also benefited from protected trade networks, established under the patronage of the Moose rulers, who created secure trade corridors by establishing chiefdoms along the main Marãnse trade routes. Beyond trade, Islam played a decisive role in their permanent settlement within the Moose kingdom. As Kouanda emphasizes in his analysis, the Marãnse were:

“Muslim foreigners who were integrated and who use Moore as their language, the Marânse were undoubtedly among the first to settle in the Moogo. However, the collective Moaga consciousness did not primarily retain their religious difference, but rather their professional specialization. For the Moose, the Marãnse were artisans, particularly dyers” ([17]).

Like the Yarse and the Zangoeto, the Marãnse specialized in the caravan trade in salt, as well as in weaving and dyeing. Beyond reshaping the socioeconomic landscape, these trade and religious mediation left indelible linguistic and onomastic imprints across Moose society.

As [27] argues, Islam introduced literacy and shared language, fostering bureaucratic developments across Sudanic states. to. In the Moogo, the most pervasive yet subtle legacy of Arab-Muslim presence is linguistic. Moore, the language of the Moose, absorbs a substantial corpus of religious vocabulary of Arabic origin.

For example, the very term used for “mosque” in Moore, misri, derives directly from the Arabic masjid, as A. Ouédraogo mentioned in his study of the mosques of Waogdgo ([24]). Other terms used in Moore—such as Barka,Zãngo,Foura/Fura,Maasa,Kura-kura/Kuli-kuli, and Gaonre/Gauraye, referring respectively to “thank you,” “stopover,” “a ball of akassa,” “a pancake,” “a groundnut-cake pastry,” and “a mixture of leaves and cereals cooked together”—appear to follow the same process of linguistic borrowing. These terms were introduced through the same commercial networks that facilitated the circulation of gold, salt, and kola nuts.

Onomastics constitutes a second important field of observation. Personal names of Arab-Muslim origin, such as Ibrahima,Idrissa,Moussa,Salamata, and Fatimata, spread widely among Moose families well beyond Yarse and Zangoeto communities. This diffusion underscores a degree of cultural permeability aligned with the process of “yarsification” discussed earlier.

A parallel onomastic dynamic occurred among the Marka of the Black Volta Bend, where Islamization—including the militant movement associated with El Hadj Mamadou Karantao’s religious war reshaped local naming practices.

These linguistic and onomastic borrowings find their most visible expression in the built environment of contemporary Burkina Faso, particularly in the development of religious earthen architecture, to which attention must now turn.

Unlike royal palaces, which remained physical manifestations of the Naam, mosques primarily served the needs of urban Muslim communities. They reflected the expanding influence of commercial and spiritual exchanges rather than an attempt to impose a new political order.

Among the tangible legacies of Arab-Muslim presence, none is more evident today than the religious earthen architecture associated with the Sudano-Sahelian style. As Triaud observes:

“Islam […] introduced the Sudanic countries into the Mediterranean world, bringing them new techniques (architecture, cotton cultivation and weaving, leather and metalworking, etc.), new plants (wheat, sugarcane, Asian rice, etc.), and educating and training elites, but it also destroyed ancient African cultural, artistic, and social traditions” ([27]).

This architectural tradition, characterized by banco (puddled earth/above) and minarets reinforced with projecting wood as scaffolding, dominated early Islamic structures in the Moogo. Crucially, banco had long been the building material of traditional Moose domestic architecture prior to the advent of Islam ([24]).

Simporé provides detailed information on the preparation of the clay used in mosque construction:

“Extracted from a tan naoko or from the banks of a seasonal stream, clay is the principal material used for the walls. Mixed with chopped straw or cereal husks, it is used to make earthen rolls or bricks; combined with cow dung, horse manure, or shea butter, it becomes plastering clay […] Clay is also used as mortar to bind the bricks together. In this case, it is not mixed with straw” ([26]).

In Waogdgo, the first mosque, known as the Bagyan Yarse Mosque or the Railway Mosque, was erected during the reign of Moognaaba Rulgu (1796-1825), the first Muslim ruler of the lineage. According to [26], it was constructed under the leadership of chief Imam Mustapha Bagyãn, son of Sorio, a close confidant of Naaba Rulgu. Another account, reported by Ouédraogo, likewise attributes its construction to the Yarse during the same reign.

The structure, now largely destroyed by urban expansion, featured an interior floor area of approximately 52 square meters, within a 144 square meter enclosure ([24]). Simporé provides a more precise description. According to him, the structure can be broadly associated with the Sudanese architectural style. It measured roughly 7.90 meters in length by 7.10 meters in width. It had two separate entrances: one on the northern side, reserved for the imam, and another on the southern side, intended for the general public. The main structure stood 4 meters high, with a surrounding enclosure wall between 1.5 and 2 meters tall depending on the location ([26]).

The Railway Mosque was built primarily of banco, humus-free clay mixed with water and straw (Loudetia togoensis), kneaded into molded bricks. This material was first used to produce molded bricks and subsequently to make the mortar joints. Once dried, the bricks were arranged in two parallel walls. At the desired height, the bricks of the outer wall were inclined, creating a decorative pattern of small isosceles triangles.

Both the walls and the enclosure were plastered on both sides. The clay used for plastering differed from that used for the bricks: it contained termite-mound clay, cow dung, and residues from shea-butter production. After application, the plaster was carefully smoothed. Interestingly, the plaster has survived the passage of time better than the bricks themselves. Where the plaster has detached, the underlying bricks have suffered considerable deterioration.

In addition to clay, wood was extensively used, particularly for the roof, which has since collapsed and may have resembled the roof of Yonryida. Wooden beams also served as scaffolding for constructing projecting elements, including the roof parapet and the minaret ([26]).

The following illustrations provide an overview of this architectural infrastructure.

Source: [26].

Photo.The railway mosque: view of the building and the courtyard.

Source: [26].

Design. Plan of the first mosque in Ouagadougou.

Categories of Mosques and the Diffusion of Sudano-Sahelian Architecture:

Furthermore, the same author identifies several categories of mosques. Among them are places that are not, strictly speaking, constructed buildings. Rather, they are simply designated spaces, often located near markets, in clearings, or on threshing grounds where millet is processed. These sites are reserved for major communal prayers.

The second category comprises the Zaawiya, a family mosque; the Sak-misri, a neighborhood mosque; and finally the Mis-kasanga, which refers to the main mosque, also known as the Arzum-misri, or Friday mosque ([26]).

The present-day Great Mosque of Waogdgo exemplifies this architectural evolution, having undergone initial construction in 1952, major expansion between 1973 and 1979, and c successive renovations from 2005 onward ([24]).

The historiography of Sudano-Sahelian architecture has long debated the origins of these monumental earthen techniques. Aradeon plays a key role in this discussion. According to tradition, it was the Andalusian architect Abou Ishaq es-Sahéli, brought back by the Mali emperor Kankou Moussa from his pilgrimage to Mecca, who introduced monumental Sudano-Sahelian earthen architecture. However, Susan B. Aradeon demonstrates that this attribution is largely legendary. Indeed, examples of monumental earthen architecture existed in the region well before the fourteenth century, thereby challenging the notion that this architectural style was introduced at that particular time.

Nevertheless, the pilgrimage to Mecca undoubtedly functioned as a crucial conduit for technical and aesthetic exchange with North African building traditions, enriching a broad regional tradition of adobe construction documented across the Moogo and the wider Sahelian belt ([2]).

UNESCO further recognized the Outstanding Universal Value of this architectural tradition in 2021 by inscribing eight mosques of this type located in northern Côte d’Ivoire, neighboring Burkina Faso, on the World Heritage List. According to UNESCO, this architectural tradition originated in Djenné between the twelfth and fourteenth centuries and spread southward from the fifteenth century onward through the same merchant and scholarly networks that contributed to the spread of Islam as far as the Moogo ([28]).

Furthermore, the expansion of Sudanic architecture stimulated the mobility of specialized guilds. Itinerant masons, blacksmiths, carpenters, and master builders traveled across Sahelian urban centers, introducing refined building techniques adapted to the climatic realities of the Moogo.

The materials used in construction did not undergo any radical transformation. Earthen construction remained the principal building technique throughout the Moose kingdoms. Wood, plant fibers, and locally available stone also continued to be widely used. Arab-Muslim influences mainly affected construction and assembly techniques, certain decorative forms, building-maintenance practices, and the spatial organization of some religious structures.

Contacts with Muslim regions also encouraged the diffusion of new decorative elements. Some historic mosques in Burkina Faso display features characteristic of Sahelian architecture, including vertical buttresses, projecting pillars, small openings, interior layouts oriented toward the qibla, and the presence of a mihrab.

By contrast, Moose royal palaces retained their distinctive architectural integrity. Ceremonial plazas, inner courtyards, and royal residential compounds continued to reflect the specific ritual and political imperatives of the Naam. This divergence illustrates that Arab Muslim aesthetic influences remained largely confined to spaces built for Muslim communities, without altering the physical architecture or symbolic expression of Moose political authority.

A primary finding of this study is that the spread of Islam across Moogo resulted neither from military conquest nor from the mass conversion of political elites, but rather from a gradual process of cultural, economic, and religious accommodation. This dynamic clearly distinguishes the Moose kingdoms from several neighboring Sudan polities where Islam progressively became the foundation matrix of state legitimacy. In the Moogo, customary institutions remained the primary framework of political governance, even as Islamic practices took firm root within specific social strata.

The defining feature of the Moaaga historical trajectory is not the absence of Islam, but the structural subordination to customary authority. Otayek summarizes this configuration by showing that the political space of the former Volta region, and subsequently of Burkina Faso, was organized around the Moose kingdoms, which succeeded in preserving both their territorial integrity and their institutions in the face of a regional environment characterized by continual sociopolitical upheavals. The “Islam of the sword” repeatedly challenged them, but without success ([22]).

Thus, unlike the theocratic states that emerged in certain parts of the Western Sudan during the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, the Moose kingdoms maintained a clear demarcation between political and religious authority. The power of the Nanambse continued to rest on the principles of the Naam, understood as a system of rules governing succession, dynastic legitimacy, and relations with custodians of the land.

The empirical evidence is unambiguous: The Moogo did not develop an administration based on Islamic law (Sharia). Political institutions continued to function according to customary rules transmitted through royal lineages and territorial authorities. At the same time, according to [25], the Moose kingdoms distinguished themselves through their hospitality toward foreign merchants, the protection of economic activities, respect for the religious freedom of Muslim communities, the preservation of the political supremacy of the Naam, and the maintenance of customary institutions.

The most influential merchants, scholars, and Arabic-speaking literati frequently served as interpreters in relations with commercial partners from the Sahel and, later, from Europe. Their command of several languages facilitated the conclusion of commercial agreements as well as diplomatic exchanges.

Two attempts at religious wars, however, sought to challenge this configuration in the western margins of the Moogo. The first was led by Mahamoudou Karantao, who established a Muslim kingdom around Wahabou around 1840. The second was led by Amadou Deme, known as Alkari of Bossé, who launched a war of conversion in 1887 against the Ko,Bwaba, and San (Samo) populations. These episodes are documented by [15] in his study of religious war.Neither attempt succeeded in extending its influence into the heart of central Moogo, whose political core remained beyond the reach of conquering Islam.

Over the long term, the resistance of Moose political centers contributed to the emergence of an Islam adapted to the local context, as well as to a confessional geography characterized by differences that continue to influence contemporary Burkina Faso. Within the Moogo, individual conversions were often accompanied by the retention of certain customary practices, particularly during family ceremonies, agricultural rituals, and interactions with traditional authorities.

According to Otayek, however, an initial line of division distinguishes Muslim Moose from non-Muslims, particularly in western regions, including the Jula,Bobo-Jula, and Fulbe, who were predominantly affiliated with the Tijaniyya brotherhood associated with El-Hadj Omar. At the same time, Muslim communities in the central Moose regions increasingly turned toward the Qadiriyya, while the north witnessed the establishment of the Hamalliyya, reflecting the reformist orientation that emerged from the nineteenth-century religious wars. This diversity of Sufi affiliations intersected with a persistent distrust among western Muslims toward the centralizing tendencies of the Moose elites of Waogdgo, whom they regarded as practitioners of a “superficial” form of Islam characteristic of “uncultivated” people ([22]).

In light of the foregoing, it is necessary to draw a clear distinction between social Islamization and political Islamization. Although Muslim practices expanded steadily through commercial networks and scholarly circles, they did not fundamentally alter the principles underlying Moaaga political organization. This distinction is arguably one of the major historical specificities of the Moogo.

Whereas many Sahelian states gradually made Islam the basis of their political legitimacy, the Moose kingdoms maintained, until the colonial period, a political system autonomous from Muslim authorities. This situation calls for an interpretation based on the concept of managed political integration.

The Moose rulers did not seek to obstruct the spread of Islam; rather, they regulated it in ways that made it compatible with the principles of the Naam. This approach enabled Muslim communities to become progressively established while ensuring the continuity of customary institutions. The religious transformations observed were therefore the outcome of an ongoing negotiation between openness to Sahelian influences and the preservation of the local political order. They demonstrate the capacity of Moose societies to incorporate profound changes without abandoning the foundations of their institutional organization.

However, this policy of accommodation had significant consequences for Moaaga culture.

The first cost was borne by the Muslim community itself. Rather than eliminating religious disputes, the subordination of Islam to the authority of the Nanambse merely displaced these conflicts within the local Ummah. Kouanda documents, in his analysis, the disputes that affected the Muslim community between 1926 and 1986. These resulted from recurrent struggles for control over the royal imamate of Waogdgo, pitting Yarse lineages, traditionally regarded as custodians of Qur’anic knowledge, against recently converted Moose lineages that enjoyed closer ties to the palace.

This was evidence that religious authority ultimately remained under customary supervision. During certain succession crises involving the imamate, the imam’s distinctive insignia slippers, staff, and turban were returned to the palace of the Moognaaba ([20]).

Thus, while Moaaga political authority gained increasing stability over time, part of the Muslim community paid the price in the form of internal instability. The same dynamic subsequently affected the postcolonial state. Otayek demonstrates that, after independence, the Burkinabè state likewise cultivated internal divisions within the religious sphere as an instrument of political control ([22]).

The second cost was demographic. By allowing Islam to spread throughout society and the economy, in its various forms, provided that it did not threaten their authority in the country, the Nanambse unintentionally paved the way for the relative decline of ancestral religion in their territories.

In 2019, for example, the national census recorded only 9% of the population as adhering to traditional religions, in a Burkina Faso where Muslims accounted for 63.8% of the population ([9]). Ancestral Moose religious traditions are therefore now a minority, whereas two centuries earlier they constituted the sole religious foundation of the Moogo. Political accommodation thus came at a cultural cost: it preserved the Naam, but not the religious supremacy of ancestral beliefs among the Moose.

The third cost is more recent. The poorly regulated pluralism that for centuries facilitated coexistence between Islam and traditional structures now exposes the country to new vulnerabilities. The absence of institutional safeguards established at an earlier stage has facilitated the penetration of extremist religious currents, particularly from neighboring Sahelian areas, whose logic of identity-based confrontation differs from the historical balances that they regard as obsolete ([10]).

Thus, what was long regarded as a strength—namely, the absence of rigid boundaries between the religious and political spheres—has become a weakness in the current security context, as the mechanisms that once regulated this coexistence have proven increasingly difficult to contain.

Ultimately, this precolonial balance, based on the negotiated subordination of Islam to customary authority, was not destroyed by the arrival of colonial rule. It did not disappear; rather, it was transformed, to the point that, at the turn of the twentieth and twenty-first centuries, it underwent a profound change in scale.

Contrary to traditional assumptions, French colonial expansion did not spread Islam in the Moogo. On the contrary, it paradoxically contributed to accelerating it. By disrupting traditional social and political hierarchies, colonial rule created a state of profound sociopolitical uncertainty. In the face of this structural upheaval, Islam offered a stable normative reference and a unifying framework that transcended lineage and ethnic divisions through its universalising message.

Nevertheless, despite Islam growing social presence, the transformation of the established order was far from immediate. For much of the colonial era, Islam remained a politically and socially marginalized spiritual force, serving primarily as a mechanism for collective orientation amidst rapid societal change ([22]).

As synthesised by the International Crisis Group, this religion, which for a long time had no political vocation of its own, remained subject to what can be described as a “triple domination”: first, that of customary authority; second, that of colonial rule; and third, that of Catholicism, particularly through the decisive activities of Father Joanny Thévenoud ([10]).

At the turn of the twenty-first century, the demographic expansion of Islam culminated in Burkina Faso in a profound institutional and demographic reconfiguration. According to the 2019 General Population and Housing Census (Recensement Général de la Population et de l’Habitat, RGPH), Muslims represented 63.8% of the national population, compared to 20.1% Catholics, 9% adhering to traditional religions, and 6.2% Protestants ([9]).

These statistical figures must nonetheless be interpreted with analytical nuance, given the extent of religious mobility, the persistence of syncretic practices, and the continued coexistence of formal religious affiliation with traditional beliefs and practices. This demographic shift reflects fundamental transformation; Islam has become the statistically dominant religion in the country.

However, this numerical predominance has not translated into the capture of political power by institutional Islam, in accordance with the historical pattern outlined above.

The International Crisis Group report echoes other studies on the Burkinabè model of religious coexistence, which had persisted for approximately six decades but came under increasing strain from the mid-2010s onward. These studies highlight several persistent challenges: a significant gap between the demographic weight of Muslims and their underrepresentation among political and administrative elites; difficulties in modernizing Franco-Arabic education; and, above all, a regional environment destabilized by the growing influence of rigorist forms of Islam and by violence perpetrated in the name of religion in neighboring Sahelian countries ([10]).

This demographic growth has unfolded alongside a fundamental transformation in how religious knowledge itself is produced. To conclude this overview of the findings, it is therefore necessary to examine these developments more closely.

The final dimension of this long-term historical process concerns education. The establishment of Qur’anic schools constituted one of the earliest instruments for the enduring dissemination of Islam. Qur’anic teachers gradually formed a literate elite proficient in Arabic, capable of reading and writing the Qur’an and engaging in certain fields of Islamic jurisprudence.

One of the most significant transformations was the widespread adoption of written Arabic. Its earliest users were primarily Muslim merchants and Qur’anic teachers, who employed it for correspondence, commercial bookkeeping, the copying of religious texts, and the production of educational materials. Arabic script played a critical role in the formation of intellectual networks in West Africa and within the Moogo, enabling African scholars to participate in the circulation of knowledge far beyond the boundaries of individual city-states. Historically, as [24] has shown for the twentieth-century era, Qur’anic education was acquired through a lineage-based system centered on the teacher, his sons, and his pupils. This system was gradually challenged and subsequently complemented by a new institutional model: the madrasa, or Franco-Arab school, where religious instruction in Arabic was combined with general education ([23]).

Today, Burkina Faso counts more than 2,465 Franco-Arab schools, and approximately 400 post-primary educational institutions. These establisment institute a significant pillar of the national education systems. They account for more than half of the private education sector and reportedly enroll between 15% and 20% of Burkinabè pupils and students ([7]).

This transition from a lineage-bound pedagogical model to an institutionalised educational system has fundamentally altered the sociology of religious leadership in Burkina Faso. However, it has also created challenges for graduates of these institutions in terms of professional integration, as their qualifications and skills remain insufficiently recognized by both the state and the labor market ([10]).

From a religious perspective, this process was accompanied, from the 1970s onward, by the emergence of a reformist movement inspired by Wahhabism, which Cissé studied under the designation of the Sunnite Movement of Burkina Faso. Relations between this movement and the dominant Sufi brotherhoods, particularly the Tijaniyya and Qadiriyya, have been characterized by mutual suspicion and competition ([4]; [24]).

Taken together, these interconnected historical layers—commerce, mediation, language, architecture, relations with political authority, colonial and educational transformations—provide a foundation for discussing the various forms that Islamization may have taken in West Africa, and particularly in the Moogo, within broader historiographical debates.

The findings of this study invite a critical reassessment of dominant paradigms regarding Islamization in West Africa. A significant body of historiography has long favored an essentially political reading of the phenomenon, whereby the spread of Islam was explained primarily through the activities of the great Sudanic empires, military conquests, or religious war movements. The empirical evidence presented above invites us to qualify, without entirely rejecting, the thesis of Moaaga exceptionalism.

While it is true that no Muslim theocratic state ever supplanted the Moogo, unlike what occurred in the Fulani Macina or Fouta-Djalon. Yet this political resistance never prevented—and paradoxically even facilitated, by making Islam socially acceptable—a profound process of economic, linguistic, and architectural penetration, as documented in Sections 2.1 to 2.4. The Moogo did not resist Islam as such; rather, it resisted the Islamization of political authority. This is a crucial distinction that historiography focused on resistance has too often obscured by conflating the absence of conquest with the absence of influence.

The evidence confirms that interaction with the Arab-Muslim world did not lead t to an Islamization of the state comparable to that observed in certain kingdoms and political formations of Mali,Songhay,Macina, or Fouta-Djalon. Moose political institutions retained their autonomy throughout the precolonial period, even as commercial and religious exchanges intensified.

This observation aligns with the foundational work of [27], who emphasized the gradual, non-linear, and socially differentiated character of Islamic penetration into Sudano-Sahelian societies, challenging a teleological interpretation that would regard the widespread conversion of populations as an inevitable historical outcome. The Moaaga case provides a compelling illustration of this process.

Several centuries of commercial and religious contact did not produce mass Islamization before the twentieth century. They nevertheless generated, at an earlier stage, a process of material and linguistic acculturation that subsequently facilitated, without necessarily determining, the demographic expansion of Islam described in Section 2.6.

Furthermore, these findings allow us to go beyond this institutional interpretation by showing that the relative stability of the religious order did not result from political or cultural isolation. Rather, it resulted from a deliberate capacity for selective integration. Moose rulers welcomed foreign Muslim merchants, scholars, and artisans while maintaining the preeminence of the Naam as the supreme principle of political legitimacy.

This dynamic requires a fundamental reconsideration of the conventional opposition between “resistance” and “Islamization.” The interactions observed here are better understood as the outcome of a continuous process of negotiation than as a confrontation between two competing cultural systems. The Moogo emerges as a space of exchange in which innovations were adapted to local structures rather than simply imposed from outside.

If the political resistance of the Moogo alone cannot explain the slow pace of demographic Islamization, this is because a specific set of social actors carried, mediated, and negotiated the terms of this process: the intermediary groups examined in Section 2.2, whose role therefore deserves renewed attention.

The second major contribution of this historiographical reinterpretation lies in reassessing the agency of the intermediary groups—namely the Yarse,Fulbe, Zangoeto, and Marãnse—which have too often been reduced in general syntheses to mere transmission belts between an external Islam and a supposedly homogeneous Moaaga society. The findings show that these groups performed much broader functions than those traditionally attributed to them. They were genuine cultural mediators, simultaneously facilitating the circulation of goods, languages, technologies, religious knowledge, and social practices.

In this regard, the foundational work of Kouanda highlights that these groups intermediary constituted social actors in their own right, capable of negotiating their status, reshaping identity boundaries through processes of reciprocal assimilation such as “yarsification,” and provided the royal authority with religious and commercial services upon which it was structurally dependent.

Understanding the historical Islamization of the Moogo therefore requires moving beyond the binary opposition between the Kudumde (customary traditions) of the Nanambse and Islam, and instead restoring the social complexity and agency of these merchant intermediaries.

Furthermore, the Moogo case enriches existing analytical models by demonstrating that intermediaries were not merely agents of cultural diffusion. They also played a role in political regulation. Their integration into the Moose kingdoms rested on a balance between economic recognition and submission to customary authority. This configuration helps explain why Arab-Muslim influences were able to spread without producing a radical transformation of existing power structures.

Intermediary groups did not simply transmit external innovations; they actively adapted to the political and social norms of the Moogo. This concept provides a potentially useful analytical framework for the study of other Sahelian societies characterized by considerable cultural diversity.

This sociocultural mediation did not cease with the advent of the precolonial period. Rather, it was reconfigured under colonial rule and subsequently in the contemporary period, raising the question of continuity and rupture in the historical legacy examined here.

The third axis of discussion concerns the precise nature of the contemporary legacy outlined in Sections 2.6 and 2.7. Should this legacy be conceptualised primarily in terms of continuity, as suggested by the title of this article, or in terms of rupture, as the demographic shift of the twentieth century might suggest—a shift that transformed Islam from a long-minoritized and politically subordinate religion into the majority religion of the country? In reality, the two interpretations are complementary.

There is undeniable continuity in the channels through which Islam spread: trade, mobility, family-based Qur’anic education, Sufi mediation, and the structural relationship between Islam and customary authority, which remained largely non-confrontational until relatively recently. Conversely, there is a profound rupture in the scale. What was, for several centuries, largely the concern of specialized diasporic communities became, within the space of a century, the majority religious affiliation of the country.

This shift in scale largely explains the new vulnerability of the former equilibrium to radicalization dynamics emanating from the central Sahel since the mid-2010s. The Yarse,Fulbe,Zãngoeto, and Marãnse forms of Islam, together with Sufi traditions, described in this article developed through a long-established practice of negotiation with customary authorities and through a well-documented plurality of Tijaniyya,Qadiriyya, and Hamalliyya affiliations, as identified by Otayek.

As highlighted by the International Crisis Group report, the Burkinabè model of religious coexistence, although historically resilient, is not impervious to regional developments, particularly the rise of rigorist forms of Islam inspired by Wahhabism. This is the same current that Cissé examines under the designation of the Sunnite Movement, whose approach is less compatible with the traditions of compromise that had characterized local Islam for centuries ([10]; [4]).

The tension between structural continuity and a rupture in scale is not unique to the Moogo. Indeed, it becomes clearer when compared with other West African societies that, despite sharing a broadly similar cultural substrate, followed markedly different political trajectories.

A comparison with the Jula Muslim trading cities situated along the southern and western margins of the Moogo, most notably the kingdom of Kong in present-day northern Côte d’Ivoire, sheds light, by contrast, on the distinctive trajectory of Moaaga society.

These cities, whose religious architecture belongs to the same Sudano-Sahelian architectural tradition as the mosques of the Moogo examined in Section 2.4, followed a different political trajectory. Islam did not remain a minority phenomenon subordinated to customary authority; rather, from the eighteenth century onward, it became a significant foundation of urban political authority.

As UNESCO highlighted during the World Heritage inscription of eight mosques of this architectural tradition in northern Côte d’Ivoire on the List, they bear witness to the enduring fusion between Arab-Berber Islamic architectural forms and indigenous building techniques. In principle, this fusion is comparable to that observed in the Moogo ([28]).

The Moogo therefore shares with these cities a common religious material culture, the same tradition of earthen architecture, and the same Jula-Wangara commercial networks that contributed to the dissemination of Islamic knowledge, but it did not share their political outcome.

This divergence, originating from a shared cultural and commercial substrate, demonstrated that the political outcome of the encounter with Islam was not predetermined by the nature of the encounter itself. Instead, it depended upon the capacity of each local political authority to contain, regulate, or appropriate the new forms of religious legitimacy made available through these interactions.

The comparison rests on three criteria. The first is a shared architectural and commercial foundation, already in place. The second concerns the source of legitimacy of the ruling power. The third relates to the institutional role, where applicable, granted to Islamic law or religious figures in the succession and administration of the political entity. On the first two points, the cases are very similar. On the third, they diverge. In Kong, the Ouattara dynasty formulated its authority in Islamic terms as early as the 18th century. Religious figures exercised recognized administrative functions alongside the ruling lineage. The architecture of the mosques, a UNESCO World Heritage Site, confirms this fusion in the very structure itself: these buildings served both as places of worship and seats of power. In Moogo, there is nothing of the sort. As Section 2.5 shows, the imamate of Waogdgo remained an appointed and revocable office under the Moognaaba regime, and the legitimacy of no Moogo ruler was ever based on Islamic law. A single commercial and architectural foundation thus coexisted with two distinct arrangements of religious and political authority. This is the compelling basis for treating the fate of the Moogo as a matter of local political choice, and not simply as a consequence of exposure to Islam.

In light of these findings, the present study offers a revised conceptual framework for interpreting relations between the Moogo and the Arab-Muslim world. Unlike diffusionist approaches, which often portray Islamization as a linear process, the evidence examined here highlights a sequence of interactions in which local political authorities retained significant capacity for choice, regulation, and adaptation.

This study therefore proposes the concept of managed political integration. This concept refers to a historical process through which a society gradually incorporates external economic, religious, and cultural influences without altering the fundamental principles of its institutional organization.

Three characteristics define this model:

First, economic openness does not entail political dependence. Trans Saheliant trade strengthened the capacities of the Moose kingdoms without undermining their sovereignty.

Second, new religious traditions are tolerated in areas where they provide social or economic value, while remaining subject to customary authority. Islam could develop within the Moogo, but its institutional and political implications remained regulated by the principles of the Naam.

Third, cultural transformations result from selective appropriation rather than the replacement of local traditions. New practices were adapted to existing structures rather than simply displacing them. These three characteristics function better as observable criteria than as descriptive labels: (i) a continuous flow of commercial, religious, or cultural resources from outside to the Moogo; (ii) the absence of any transfer of sovereign prerogatives (succession, taxation, military command) to Muslim institutions; (iii) the adaptation of imported practices to existing customary forms, rather than their outright replacement. Applied to the four areas examined above, they yield the following. Trade demonstrates sustained economic openness (i), without the Moogolosing control of markets or taxation (ii). The intermediate groups (Yarse, Zãngoeto, Marãnse, and Fulbe) exhibit selective integration (iii): they are absorbed by customary categories (Yarnaaba and yarsification) instead of supplanting them. Religious authority illustrates criterion (ii) particularly clearly, as the imamate remains revocable by the Moognaaba. Finally, the political institutions preserved the Naamintact throughout the entire period, thus satisfying all three criteria. This framework does not resolve all ambiguous cases, particularly those concerning the margins of Yarse’s political involvement discussed in 3.2. It does, however, have at least one merit: it makes the model’s assertions open to criticism where they were previously merely illustrative.

This model extends Michel Izard’s analyses of Yatẽnga’s political institutions by introducing a dynamic historical dimension. It likewise operationalises Joseph Ki-Zerbo’s work on the endogenous adaptive capacities of African societies by demonstrating concretely how these societies constructed their own forms of modernity from multiple external influences.

Beyond the specific case of the Moogo, this theoretical proposition may contribute to renewing scholarship on processes of cultural circulation and interaction in precolonial Sahelian societies.

However, illuminating these scientific contributions may be, they should not obscure the methodological limitations inherent in the present study. These limitations must therefore now be explicitly addressed.

This reinterpretation has several limitations that must be acknowledged. The corpus of sources used in this study, reflecting the existing historiography, focuses primarily on the central and northern Moogo, leaving relatively unexplored the specific dynamics of the Gourma,Liptako, and Senufo regions, where the penetration of the Arab-Muslim world followed different chronological trajectories and relied on distinct channels.

Similarly, some essential sources for this study could not be consulted in their entirety because they have not been digitized or are not freely accessible. Their content was therefore reconstructed from references to them that converge across several published studies in which they are cited and summarized.

This limitation, which reflects the current state of available documentation on Mossi country, calls for caution regarding the degree of precision that can be attributed to certain claims. It also underscores the need for further archival research, particularly through systematic consultation of unpublished manuscripts, oral sources, and locally preserved historical documentation.