Historical Babes: Resisting Europe like a Boss: Queen Nzinga of Angola

A typical Eurocentric version of how the Trans-Atlantic slave trade started goes something like this: Europeans arrived along the west coast of Africa to find uncivilized wilds (or crumbling civilizations, if the narrative is generous) where people were already warring and selling each other into slavery, and were only too happy to buy European guns.

WRONG!!

Although slave trading in Africa did pre-date the arrival of Europeans, the African kingdoms that Europeans first encountered were every bit as complex and sophisticated as the ones in Europe, Asia, and the Americas. Moreover, a number of these West African monarchs attempted to negotiate settlements with the Portuguese, converted to Christianity (either out of true conviction or as a bargaining chip), appealed to the Christian sensibilities of the Portuguese to stop enslaving people, and even tried to use European rivalries to their advantage. And when all else failed, they fought back.

One such example comes from the Kingdoms of Ndongo and Matamba – a place that the Portuguese called “Angola” confusing the title of the king (Ngola) with the name of the place. It was here that the Portuguese were stumped by a woman who has many names, but for the sake of simplicity we will call Nzinga.

Nzinga was born around 1582, the daughter of the King of Ndongo – so named, because she (according to the stories) had her umbilical cord wrapped around her neck. Nzinga grew up observing her father’s governance, and as an adult, played an important role in her brother’s court after he became king. In 1622, when her brother – now the king – attended a peace conference in Luanda with the Portuguese governor, Nzinga accompanied him. In fact, she did more than accompany him – she was his chief negotiator!

Ngola Mbande (Nzinga’s brother) wanted the Portuguese to remove a fortress they had built on his lands (how rude!), return his subjects who had been taken as slaves, and wanted mercenaries employed by the Portuguese to cease and desist.

One of the most famous stories about Nzinga took place at this conference. She was sent to negotiate these terms with the Portuguese governor Correia de Sousa, who had not offered Nzinga a chair, only a mat on the floor – implying that she was subordinate to him. (Oh snap!) But Nzinga would have none of this – she ordered one of her female servants down on all fours, and sat on her back during the course of the meeting. Nzinga came away with a favorable treaty, and converted to Christianity, as a diplomatic gesture.

Nzinga negotiating with de Sousa.

Buuuuuuuut, the Portuguese never honored their treaty.

After two more years of chaos and warfare – with staggering losses for the Ndongo – Ngola Mbande committed suicide (or was murdered by his sister Nzinga, depending on who you ask). Nzinga then took control of the kingdom as the regent of her nephew Kaza, and eventually as king outright. Like some other female rulers (such as Emperor Wu, China’s only female emperor - more on her some other time) Nzinga preferred to be known as king rather than queen – probably because the title conferred all of the powers of a ruler onto her. With a new Portuguese sheriff in town, Nzinga tried negotiating again and again negotiations broke down. Hostilities resumed, with Nzinga playing a pretty good game of cat and mouse with the Portuguese.

Nzinga personally led troops against the Portuguese and although she was unable to maintain her hold on Ndongo, she took over neighboring Matamba. The Portuguese tried to reopen negotiations – but this wasn’t Nzinga’s first rodeo.

In 1641, the Dutch joined the party, taking Luanda from the Portuguese. Nzinga hoped to use this European rivalry to her advantage and after forming an alliance with the Dutch, regained some of her lost territory in a series of victorious battles against the Portuguese. She was never able to fully regain her lost territory, but she continued to lead troops in resistance against the Portuguese into her 60s, until in 1657 she hung up her sword and agreed to sign yet another peace treaty with the Portuguese. She spent the last years of her rule trying to rebuild her war-torn kingdom and resettling freed slaves. Despite her tumultuous life, and unlike most of our other heroines – Nzinga died peacefully at the ripe old age of 80 in 1663.

What a babe.