"It has been called the greatest archeological discovery since the Dead Sea Scrolls..."

QUOTE
http://timbuktutravel.net/HELPSAVE.htm
There are 700,000 manuscripts in Timbuktu. Their discovery has been called “The greatest archeological find since the Dead Sea scrolls.” Included in the cache are Moorish books with bug-riddled bindings, Islamic pamphlets covered with sand, ninth-century treatises baked by time, and scholarly pages a phase away from dust.
These literary remnants are mostly from Timbuktu’s glorious fifteenth century, tucked untidily between Africa’s Muslim encounter and the rancour of European exploration. They are the evidences of a proud, if not widely known, heritage.
Ignorance impeded their preservation over the centuries, and continued lack of awareness facilitated their slow disappearance – the loss of history’s book one page at a time. Were they housed together, collected in temperature-controlled rooms, and catalogued from Arabic to Tuareg to Zahara, these manuscripts would be esteemed one of the world’s bibliographic miracles. They are considered less a treasure only because of their scattered and deteriorating condition.
Such was the commerce of writing in Timbuktu that the city’s trade routes in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries became known as the Ink Road, a tribute to more than the manuscripts that made their way along them. Respected mirabouts (teachers) and scholars were regarded as “ambassadors of peace” for their acumen in negotiations and Koran-based dispute resolution, not only in Timbuktu but in Gao, on the River Niger, and in Djenné. With their scholarship and mediation skills, they were respected as the ideal adjudicators. Sought when arbitration was required, they travelled the routes, figuratively and literally, of parchment and peace.
When Askia the Great ruled Mali in 1468, after his Songhai defeated the Tuareg, his rule was built upon Timbuktu’s strengths in trade. The city then became the epicentre of learning and Islamic education. Arab scholars wrote and collected books and created large libraries in its universities and synagogues. The vast collections of writings were maintained, protected, and revered. They sustained a learned society and a community of understanding. Thus the phrase “Timbuktu trades in gold, salt, and ink.”
In Timbuktu’s golden age, sophisticated travellers would arrive with books known to be rare. Manuscript collecting in Timbuktu was popular during this period, and caravans were forcibly detained while their written works were copied by hand by students at the universities. Texts from distant universities were often borrowed, studied, and copied. Timbuktu’s libraries grew. At the same time, the city’s private libraries flourished with copies of written contracts, religious books, legal texts, and letters. The marginalia of the day recorded everything from wedding plans to the previous night’s shooting stars, providing a fascinating insight into the culture’s everyday concerns.
Seeing those manuscripts today causes dismay. Often they lie in the homes of those who cannot read, and who perhaps do not know of the treasures they possess. Or the documents are crammed into the forgotten corners of mud buildings. Individual manuscript pages have been sold to travellers for food, thus disappearing from their family, from Timbuktu, from the public domain.
There are 700,000 manuscripts in Timbuktu. Their discovery has been called “The greatest archeological find since the Dead Sea scrolls.” Included in the cache are Moorish books with bug-riddled bindings, Islamic pamphlets covered with sand, ninth-century treatises baked by time, and scholarly pages a phase away from dust.
These literary remnants are mostly from Timbuktu’s glorious fifteenth century, tucked untidily between Africa’s Muslim encounter and the rancour of European exploration. They are the evidences of a proud, if not widely known, heritage.
Ignorance impeded their preservation over the centuries, and continued lack of awareness facilitated their slow disappearance – the loss of history’s book one page at a time. Were they housed together, collected in temperature-controlled rooms, and catalogued from Arabic to Tuareg to Zahara, these manuscripts would be esteemed one of the world’s bibliographic miracles. They are considered less a treasure only because of their scattered and deteriorating condition.
Such was the commerce of writing in Timbuktu that the city’s trade routes in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries became known as the Ink Road, a tribute to more than the manuscripts that made their way along them. Respected mirabouts (teachers) and scholars were regarded as “ambassadors of peace” for their acumen in negotiations and Koran-based dispute resolution, not only in Timbuktu but in Gao, on the River Niger, and in Djenné. With their scholarship and mediation skills, they were respected as the ideal adjudicators. Sought when arbitration was required, they travelled the routes, figuratively and literally, of parchment and peace.
When Askia the Great ruled Mali in 1468, after his Songhai defeated the Tuareg, his rule was built upon Timbuktu’s strengths in trade. The city then became the epicentre of learning and Islamic education. Arab scholars wrote and collected books and created large libraries in its universities and synagogues. The vast collections of writings were maintained, protected, and revered. They sustained a learned society and a community of understanding. Thus the phrase “Timbuktu trades in gold, salt, and ink.”
In Timbuktu’s golden age, sophisticated travellers would arrive with books known to be rare. Manuscript collecting in Timbuktu was popular during this period, and caravans were forcibly detained while their written works were copied by hand by students at the universities. Texts from distant universities were often borrowed, studied, and copied. Timbuktu’s libraries grew. At the same time, the city’s private libraries flourished with copies of written contracts, religious books, legal texts, and letters. The marginalia of the day recorded everything from wedding plans to the previous night’s shooting stars, providing a fascinating insight into the culture’s everyday concerns.
Seeing those manuscripts today causes dismay. Often they lie in the homes of those who cannot read, and who perhaps do not know of the treasures they possess. Or the documents are crammed into the forgotten corners of mud buildings. Individual manuscript pages have been sold to travellers for food, thus disappearing from their family, from Timbuktu, from the public domain.





