Linda Heywood. Njinga of Angola: Africa’s Warrior Queen (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 2017). 310pp. 

Introduction

Heywood ambitiously attempts to decolonize Njinga’s image, allowing the queen to “take her proper place in popular history…in the ranks of ‘famous women of history’” (256-257). In doing so, she claims Njinga’s story “reveals larger themes of gender, power, religion, leadership, colonialism, and resistance,” that the importance of her life and the study of it thereof “transcend[s] African history and the history of slavery in Africa and America” (3). Her work is written for an audience of students, whose perceptions of African history may still be molded by her persuasion. The primary aim of her work is to establish Njinga as a powerful ruler and to create an image of Njinga that does her justice regarding her importance in African history and feminist, diplomatic, and religious history, more broadly. The secondary aim of her text is to make her work functionally accessible to her inexpert audience. 

Heywood’s book is the first “serious biography” of Njinga to exist in any language, which burdens her with the momentous task of handling the narrative development of Njinga’s enormous legacy (3). Her work beautifully embraces nuance, and it is most successful in accomplishing her secondary aim. The impressive level of detail, the structure of the text, and her choice to present Njinga’s story as a narrative remove academic barriers. Concerning her primary aim, Heywood is disadvantaged by the implicitness of her argument throughout the body of her text, as much of Njinga’s importance to feminist history is lost. Additionally, the majority of Heywood’s sources are solely taken from a European perspective, which introduces bias and error into her telling, preventing her from plausibly reframing Njinga’s place in history.

Summary

The text opens with a recollection of Ndongo’s history, as Heywood assumes her audience comes to her text with little understanding of African history. She introduces Angolan traditions, such as ritual sacrifice, and the beginnings of Portuguese Christian mission work in Ndongo. Heywood explains that the missionaries' presence “created a dilemma for the rulers of Ndongo…[because they] practiced a religion that had the potential to undermine the spiritual and legal power of the king and his advisers” (22). Soon, the Portuguese invaded and began slave-raiding operations. Njinga’s father, as king, failed to resist Portuguese occupation, and Portugal mandated that tributes be paid to them. Her brother, King Ngola Mbande, also failed to resist the Portuguese (45, 48). In her diplomatic debut, Ngola Mbande offered to study Christianity, undergoing baptism, thus securing a treaty with the Portuguese (49, 52). Her brother died in 1624 after ingesting poison, and his position was immediately inherited by Njinga (55). 

Heywood outlines how Njinga refused to be subordinate to the Portuguese, eliminating those who resisted her rule (61–62, 65). The “Mbundu masses rallied around her cause,” desiring her authority instead of the Europeans’ (68). The Portuguese justified their war by claiming she was an “illegitimate heir to the throne” due to her gender (71). Njinga relied on diplomacy to negotiate a settlement. Also, Njinga attempted to increase Christian influence in Ngola while still maintaining contradictory Mbundu spirituality practices (77). Nevertheless, Njinga claimed to make space for Christianity within Ngola.

Njinga fled from the Portuguese invasion and her throne was briefly taken by Portugal-backed Ngola Hari. Even during her absence, she gained popularity amongst the Mbundu, most regarding her as having the most legitimate claim to the throne. Njinga worked to increase her public support and fight against the Portuguese, eventually resorting back to “guerrilla mode” and fleeing (106). Njinga married Inbangala captain Kasanje in exchange for sanctuary. Also, at this time, her two sisters were Portuguese captives, and, as a political move, they were brainwashed into baptism (110). Njinga reappeared on the Ngolan political scene in 1630, continuously leading “her troops into battle against the Portuguese and their African allies” for the next two decades (114-115).  Njinga underwent her Imbagala induction ceremony, and she retained some Mbundu traditions, emerging as an Imbagalan leader, as she conquered Matamba in 1635, her first Imbagala militaristic success and new political base (124, 126). She allied herself with the Dutch, who later betrayed her, and she worked to resist Portuguese occupation, which proved ultimately unsuccessful (133). 

Njinga was restored as ruler of Angola. She altered her military strategy to “no longer [envision] military defeat,” and her diplomatic work ensured that “Matamba would not be subjected to Portuguese military aggression” anymore (159, 165). Njinga also secured a voice in the Vatican, and she relied more heavily on religious diplomacy, appealing to the Capuchins (170, 178). Furthermore, Njinga repeatedly cited her blood right to the throne, and she secured the return of her sister Barbara to establish an heir within this inherited authority (180, 190).

Njinga, in the last seven years of her life, attempted to pursue peace with the Portuguese and to Christianize herself, her people, and her kingdom by “[discarding] certain Mbundu and Imbangala traditions” (193, 197). She secured her council’s approval of her Christianization plans, which maintained her legitimacy throughout this transition (197-199). Njinga encouraged baptisms amongst her people, banned human sacrifice, and she modeled Christian ideals by praying, opting for a monogamous marriage, and exhibiting spiritual passion (199-211). Njinga also worked to re-establish the throne to its previous greatest through a royalist agenda (227-230). Njinga neared death at the age of 80, and Heywood writes that Mbundu and Christian tradition intermingled even within the funeral arrangements for the great queen, pointing to the revolutionary legacy she left behind (236-244). 

What Was Done Well?

The book contains an impressive amount of detail, which aptly accomplishes Heywood’s goal of getting this history to the public. Not only does the level of detail lay a foundation for establishing Heywood’s expertise in Angolan history and Njinga’s life, but it also acts as an educational tool. Heywood understands that her audience engages with her work with little background on the subject, so by providing almost an excess of information, they gain context and familiarity with Ngola. 

While the detail Heywood utilizes throughout the book is extensive, the structure of the text aids in maintaining its accessibility to the lay reader. Transitions within the book are grouped within similar ideas, which promotes understanding of Heywood’s logic. For example, Heywood divides the discussion of Njinga’s diplomatic strategies in chapter 6 in two, individually and clearly “revisiting” both religious and political diplomacy (165, 172). Heywood also does not include footnotes on the bottom of the page they denote. This choice makes the text less intimidating to students, as the body of the text appears visually simple. Also, Heywood includes primary source images, like maps, within the book — some books include such sources in the middle of the book in a large complication. Many of the maps are oriented horizontally so that the reader is forced to physically turn the book in order to read it, which purposefully encourages engagement with her work. The maps also appear at what feels like exactly the right time. For example, when Heywood explains the evolution of Portuguese campaigns against Angola, she includes a map of the region which helps her audience visualize the area she discusses.

In addition to maps, Heywood includes a brief section on chronology, which gives a simple and brief overview of Angolan history from 1515 to 1663 (263-264). This section is perfect for students who are learning as they read. Many of the names are similar, and the majority of the story is quite complicated, so including a point of reference helps her audience get ‘unstuck’; it acknowledges the shortcomings of her audience with gracious helpfulness. 

Furthermore, the narrative style of her book makes the text incredibly readable, and it draws in her audience. By nature, narrative style increases the interest of readers as they begin to root for certain players or outcomes. Heywood incorporates details of emotion that humanize Njinga — like her earnest expressions of faith or her frustration in the campaigns against the Portuguese, encouraging her audience to consume the breadth of Heywood’s work, thereby accomplishing her primary purpose in creating a new identity for Njinga within public history.

What Wasn’t Done Well?

In the epilogue, Heywood condemns the demonization of Njinga’s legacy that occurred as a result of European writer’s distortion of her narrative. She references Antonio Cavazzi, the “Capuchin missionary who lived in Njinga’s court during the last years of her life,” who was never “convinced of her sincerity” of faith and wrote a poem that compared her to notorious women of history and anguished that she had “outsmarted heaven” (245). Heywood paints this work, and similar work of Antonio da Gaeta, to be the reason Njinga has never been properly honored in history. Yet, Heywood, herself, references Cavazzi and Gaeta dozens of times in building the foundation of her work. She relies on bias, and she barely acknowledges it. While the choice to put her footnotes in the back of the book increased accessibility, it also diverted attention away from the fact that the majority of her sources originated from European minds. 

Historians can responsibly use biased sources — nearly all primary sources contain perspectives tainted by their author. However, a more intentional, consistent attempt to recognize the shortcomings of a source would embrace the nuance of the field of history more credibly. Heywood references the possibility of mistranslation or misunderstanding just a few times in her book. For example, in describing Njinga’s model of Christianity for her people, Heywood begins a paragraph with the phrase, “If the missionaries are to be believed…”  (222). However, this is one of the lone instances of such an acknowledgment. Most of her text relies on one European eyewitness, which she references without delving into the dangers and bias of these witnesses. For example, she explained that Father Zelotes was the “only eyewitness” to the event wherein Njinga applied to her council to garner approval for her replacing traditional religious practices and ideologies with Christianity (197-198). To the European eye and ear, many aspects of Ngola may have been blatantly misunderstood. By relying solely on sources, which were manipulated to portray Njinga as savage and evil, Heywood poisons her work with the very narrative she endeavored to contradict. She uses broad statements, disregarding their questionable origins. For example, she describes the Imbangala, explaining they were “mercenary bands of young men known for their violent and cultlike behavior (including cannibalism)” (37). This description was taken from a European source. While it accurately reflects how the Imbangala were perceived at the time, the book and Heywood’s audience would have benefited from the simplest of disclaimers, for instance, perhaps adding the word “rumored” in the context of the cannibalism to indicate the likelihood that cannibalism was more a popular fabrication than a fact. 

Furthermore, while Heywood bookends her text with a discussion of her argument, as it is found primarily in the introduction and epilogue, the majority of the book contains a more implicit argument. Because so much of her work is detail-oriented, detecting Heywood’s voice was occasionally difficult. Yet, her argument appears with little to no follow-up in the successive text. For example, Heywood claims Njinga “adroit[ly]” used her gender within her leadership (64). However, she does not support that claim within the following passages, not mentioning how being a woman affected Njinga’s leadership style within that section. Certainly, Heywood presents an analysis of Njinga’s femininity, but it is minute in comparison to the weight she gives to her militaristic, religious, and diplomatic endeavors. 

Conclusion

Although I read this text within the context of an intermediate college African history class, Njinga’s story is also pertinent to those pursuing a broader understanding of religion, feminism, and diplomacy, especially from an African perspective. Njinga was by no means a ‘champion of women’; she never prioritized bettering the lives of her female subjects, and she even worked to downplay her femininity in some instances, as she was known as “king of Angola” (77). However, her place within history proves women were involved in power much earlier than popular history reports. For any person interested in African history, for feminists or Christian scholars Heywood’s book is worth a read.