Abstract
How are migration and enslavement sociohistorically intertwined in shaping migration opportunities for people from Africa south of the Sahara? This article addresses this question through an analysis of 65 biographical-narrative interviews with migrants from Sudan, particularly Darfur, who travelled through North Africa to Europe. The findings highlight the significance of the intergenerational transmission of knowledge about collective histories of enslavement and servitude in shaping the migration prospects of different groupings. Focusing on cases from Darfur, the article demonstrates how individuals change constructions of belonging in order to: (i) evade violence, coerced labour and mobility restrictions; and (ii) secure refugee status by framing experiences within narratives of ‘slavery’ while downplaying familial involvement in regional conflicts. This research highlights the need to historicise migration pathways and reassess how collective memories of enslavement influence contemporary migration experiences.
Introduction
This article examines the interrelationship between migration and enslavement, focusing on how collective histories of enslavement shape migration courses and opportunities for individuals from Africa south of the Sahara. As a profoundly sociohistorical phenomenon, migration involves not only physical movement across borders, but also the transmission of experiences and knowledge, particularly in regions marked by long histories of diverse forms of enslavement and servitude. This is especially evident in the case of the trans-Saharan and trans-Sahelian routes (Obokata, 2021: 8), which have historically connected Darfur and Sudan to other regions of North Africa in contexts of migration, trade and the trafficking of enslaved persons (Lecocq, 2015; McDougall, 2002).
Intergenerationally transmitted stories about different forms of enslavement and servitude – understood here as diverse forms of knowledge about the sociohistorically constructed past (re)negotiated within the social collectives to which individuals belong – significantly shape the migration prospects of individuals belonging to different groupings. 1 While some individuals learn, through socialisation in particular groups, how to present themselves and others as members of certain collectives, others lack this knowledge at hand (Gurwitsch, 1962: 57; Schütz, 1953). This article presents empirical case studies of migrants from Darfur who moved through North Africa and relied on their knowledge of collective histories of enslavement as a form of power. It also considers how these constructions changed throughout their lives across different societies before, during and after migration.
Drawing on the sociology of knowledge (Berger and Luckmann, 1991 [1966]) and figurational sociology (Elias, 2001 [1987]), the analysis highlights how collective memories of enslavement – whether through direct experience or knowledge transmitted across generations (Cé Sangalli, forthcoming b) – shape the ways in which individuals construct their belonging. These constructions, often informed by intersecting ethnic, familial and regional histories, are not static (Bogner and Rosenthal, 2009). 2 Rather, they transform in relation to changing power interdependencies, opportunities for escape and the needs of migration. In Darfur and Sudan, where slavery has historically been intertwined with ethnicised conflicts and more or less salient status hierarchies and inequalities (Sharkey, 2008: 27), migrants often have to change their allegiances and narratives in order to evade the attacks, coerced labour and restrictions imposed by more established groupings (Cé Sangalli, 2024: 160). These changes in how people talk about themselves and others – emphasising or downplaying specific interdependencies in different interactions – are not only about survival but also ways of expanding their scope of action within the migration process; for example, by securing refugee status or avoiding stigmatisation.
The findings underline that constructions of belonging are not merely responses to immediate circumstances but are deeply embedded in long-term sociohistorical processes of which migrants themselves are not necessarily aware. Migrants, particularly those from regions marked by histories of enslavement and collective violence, may downplay certain aspects of their family’s or local community’s past involvement in conflict or complicity in slaveholding practices. As this article empirically shows, this may be a way of aligning themselves with more favourable groupings in asylum procedures or distancing themselves from being associated with a grouping constructed as ‘perpetrators’ of violence.
This article intervenes in sociological debates that frame migration primarily as either a linear escape from oppression or a straightforward pursuit of ‘freedom’ (see Martins and O’Connell Davidson, 2022b: 1481). Such approaches often detach contemporary migration from longer sociohistorical processes, including collective histories of enslavement and servitude that continue to shape power interdependencies between different groupings and foreground ‘agency’ or empowerment. Yet, slavery-related sociohistorical contingencies influence migrants’ life courses. By combining figurational sociology with the sociology of knowledge and biographical case reconstructions, the article historicises migration trajectories and demonstrates how these collective histories inform migrants’ opportunities, contingencies and moral positioning across different figurations. It shows how migrants draw on, silence or reframe memories of enslavement in order to evade violence, navigate migration routes and secure a legal status, thereby revealing how past configurations of domination continue to shape contemporary mobility and belonging. The article thus puts forward a framework that links figurational sociology and social-constructivist biographical research to reconstruct the nexus between coerced interdependencies and migration from a bottom-up perspective. Further, it advances sociological understandings of memory, power and migration by revealing how deeply embedded historical violences continue to influence present-day interactions, claims-making and moral positioning in transnational contexts.
Power interdependencies, belonging and enslavement
The necessity of considering diverse forms of enslavement as a component of elucidating broader historical and social practices and inequalities across diverse regions of the world, including in the African continent, has been repeatedly demonstrated (Bellagamba et al., 2017). Power interdependencies between established and outsider groupings (Elias, 2008 [1976]) have profoundly shaped North African and Sahelian societies, where the dominance of one grouping has frequently depended on the subjugation or enslavement of another (Diawara, 2003). Enslaved persons and those in servitude were often perceived as outsiders within various societies in the African continent (Lovejoy, 2000 [1983]). At the same time, some were incorporated, in different ways, into kinship networks, communities or households, in contrast to the chattel slavery of the Atlantic world (Kopytoff and Miers, 1979). In such sociohistorical constellations, the opposite of ‘slavery’ was not always understood as individual ‘freedom’, but rather as recognised belonging within a social collective. This did not entail the absence of coercion and inequality. On the contrary, it often involved processes through which distinctions related to descent-based slavery were rendered less visible while continuing to inform social hierarchies (Cé Sangalli, forthcoming a). Across different historical contexts, systems of slavery were marked by relations of subordination and varying degrees of ‘natal alienation’, even when enslaved persons were incorporated into households or political communities (Patterson, 1982: 5).
From this perspective, a focus on belonging does not imply the absence of domination; rather, it highlights how figurations of enslavement were organised around differential participation within social collectives and how these distinctions continue to inform constructions of belonging, often implicitly. Migrants from regions shaped by such histories may therefore frame experiences of exploitation, violence or exclusion in relation to intergenerationally transmitted memories of diverse forms of enslavement, even when their situations do not correspond to contemporary definitions of slavery (Cé Sangalli, forthcoming b).
The role of the stigma surrounding slave ancestry in shaping social practices has been extensively documented across diverse local communities in the African continent (Bellagamba et al., 2017; Rossi, 2024: 3; Searing, 1993: 48). One means of countering outsider positions and slave status is social ascension through marriage into more established groupings (Quirk and Rossi, 2022). Nevertheless, even in such contexts, historical and genealogical references to the outsider status of individuals and collectives, and their potential slave ancestry, continue to emerge in power struggles and inheritance disputes (Kopytoff and Miers, 1979: 11; Meillassoux, 1991 [1986]: 13). These dynamics have significantly influenced the development of societies. This has been demonstrated by studies which have shown the advantages of tracing the transformations in individuals’ perceptions of slavery in ‘continuously changing circumstances’ (Rossi, 2009a: 1).
Importantly, post-slavery relations are shaped by contextualised interactions and mutual understanding of each other’s historical status (Lecocq and Hahonou, 2015). In particular, during the period of colonialism and the era of legal prohibition of slavery, practices of servitude were often confined to the private sphere, especially in Sudan (Vezzadini, 2010: 74–79). This can be observed in the manner in which ascriptions of slave ancestry developed into sociohistorically contingent ethnicised or racialised categories in diverse regions of the African continent, with prejudices against former slaves and their descendants giving rise to new forms of discrimination (Lecocq and Hahonou, 2015: 189; Rossi, 2009a). These dynamics are reflected in the stigma attached to certain physical characteristics, which can perpetuate exclusionary practices, and which do not necessarily correspond to those developed in Atlantic societies. Thus, ascriptions of slave ancestry can reflect a downgrade of status in one’s region of birth. Migration, therefore, can often be seen as a means to counteract these power inequalities (Gaibazzi, 2017; Pelckmans, 2020).
From this perspective, the legacy of slavery intersects with contemporary migration (Martins and O’Connell Davidson, 2022b). While migration can provide opportunities for empowerment, it can also create new forms of vulnerability, such as exploitation in labour markets or threats of violence (Martins and O’Connell Davidson, 2022a). Concurrently, while modern forms of exploitation, frequently designated as ‘modern slavery’, exhibit parallels with historical enslavement, important distinctions remain (O’Connell Davidson, 2021; Cé Sangalli, forthcoming a). Contemporary migration offers greater opportunities for social mobility than in the past, but nevertheless entails considerable risks (Brace and O’Connell Davidson, 2018: 24).
Less explored in the literature is how migration can precipitate a decrease in the relative power and status of individuals from more established groupings. There is a paucity of studies that have focused on how descendants of families who potentially had slaves in the past and who do not regard themselves as slave descendants end up in situations of coerced work and restricted movement, or are ascribed slave status, upon migration. It is because of the implicit meanings that slave ancestry and slave status can have in North Africa that this article underlines the importance of considering collective memories of different forms of enslavement and servitude in all cases of migration through the region – and in migration studies in general involving individuals who have lived at least a part of their lives in post-slavery societies. This is in addition to cases where the topic is explicitly addressed or where individuals are manifestly constructed as slave descendants or referred to as slaves (Salih, 2020).
This article makes both an empirical and a theoretical contribution to reconstructing the nexus between enslavement and migration. It demonstrates that an empirical analysis of the intersection between power interdependencies, constructions of belonging and the memory of slavery provides a critical lens for analysing and historicising contemporary inequalities related to migration processes. Moreover, the article contributes to the ongoing debate on power interdependencies, belonging and the legacies of slavery by combining two distinct sociological approaches. A figurational approach (Elias, 2001 [1987]) allows for the reconstruction of sociohistorical power inequalities that shape people’s birth constellations and the different migration courses available to members of different groupings, rather than to national collectives. This, in turn, advances discussions on the development and maintenance of (inter)dependencies in the context of slavery (see Winnebeck et al., 2023). Combined with a biographical approach and specific methods of data generation and analysis, this framework facilitates the reconstruction of migrants’ perspectives and their transformation across life phases and at different moments of their migration courses.
Methods and methodological approach
This study was conducted in line with the principles of social interpretive research, as outlined by Rosenthal (2018 [2005]). A multi-method research design was adopted (Burzan, 2016), combining biographical-narrative interviews (Schütze, 1983) with a critical analysis of historical sources from a multiperspectivity standpoint (Stradling, 2003).
Between 2018 and 2023, a total of 65 biographical-narrative interviews were conducted with migrants from Sudan aged between 19 and 65 years old, 39 of whom were from Darfur. The interviews took place in Germany, Jordan and Uganda and were carried out by the author in collaboration with research assistants from Sudan, Palestine, Iraq and Jordan. This composition reflected the multilingual and multiethnic character of the research field. Interviewers were recruited from local communities to conduct interviews in specific languages and to facilitate access and rapport. In some cases, shared linguistic or regional backgrounds increased trust; in others, especially when discussing experiences of violence, they posed additional challenges, which made it necessary to work with interviewers from different ethnic groupings and nationalities.
In addition to the Sudanese sample, interviews were conducted with people from other African countries (e.g. Mauritania and Chad) who had migrated through North Africa. These interviews served for contrastive comparison and informed the broader reconstruction of migration figurations along trans-Saharan routes. For the purposes of this article, the Darfurian cases were selected for detailed reconstruction using the criteria of minimal and maximal contrast in theoretical sampling (Glaser and Strauss, 2006 [1967]: 56). They were chosen because they most clearly illustrate the nexus between different collective histories of enslavement and migration within the same region of origin, while revealing sharply contrasting migration opportunities for members of different ethnic groupings who experienced migration through North Africa.
All participants were verbally informed about the study in their own language, and they gave their free and fully informed consent in accordance with the ethical guidelines of the German Sociological Association. They were informed about the aims of the research, the voluntary nature of participation and their right to withdraw consent or request the deletion of recordings or transcripts at any time before publication. Where participants wished, they were referred or accompanied to specialist support services, such as centres for victims of persecution and torture. Audio recordings were stored on encrypted devices and used solely for transcription and analysis; identifying information was removed during analysis, and pseudonyms are used throughout. All data were processed in compliance with the European Union’s General Data Protection Regulation and the German Federal Data Protection Act. In line with the project’s data management plan and the guidelines for good scientific practice of the German Research Foundation, encrypted audio recordings are stored offline for 10 years.
The open-ended nature of the biographical-narrative interviews enabled the interviewees to set their own relevancies when relating their life stories, the history of their families and that of the collectives to which they felt they belonged. The use of narrative questions allowed a more nuanced understanding of how individuals experienced specific situations, as proposed by Schütze (1983). The processual character of constructions of belonging was addressed through three main procedures:
Conducting multiple interviews with the same participant in different contexts and with significant time intervals between interviews allowed the reconstruction of changes in the participant’s presentations of belonging.
Interviewing different members of the same grouping to gain a comprehensive understanding of the collective past. This approach allowed for the reconstruction of diverse perspectives, or ‘modes of knowing’, as described by Glaser and Straus (2006 [1967]: 68).
Varying the personnel conducting the interviews with the same interviewee facilitated reconstruction of the influence of these changes on the interviewees’ constructions of belonging, and required continuous reflection on interviewer positionalities. This offered insights into changes in the ways belonging is presented on the front and back stage of everyday life (Goffman, 1956: 66).
During the analysis, a heuristic distinction was made between the level of presented life stories and that of experienced life histories, with a reconstruction of their mutual influence (Rosenthal, 2018 [2005]). The processual character of belonging was addressed by applying the principle of communication associated with an interpretive and reconstructive approach (Hoffmann-Riem, 1980). This entailed consideration of the sequential order in which experiences occurred in the past and were presented in the interview (Oevermann et al., 1987 [1979]). The interpretation of the empirical material followed the steps for biographical case reconstructions (Rosenthal, 2018 [2005]: 168). These steps allow the developing and controlled testing of interpretive hypotheses.
These procedures were developed to avoid the anachronistic projection of modern categories such as race or Western legal and moral definitions of slavery onto heterogeneous historical phenomena (see Huebner, 2021). Instead, the methods were oriented towards reconstructing the sociohistorically contingent meanings that interviewees attributed to their own experiences and courses of action. This included a historical reconstruction of figurations to avoid reifying categories such as ethnicity or slave status. Particular attention was given to the polysemic and situational character of slave status across different sociohistorical phases and interactions, including cases in which interviewees were not fully aware of the implicit meanings attached to ethnicised or racialised ascriptions. In line with this, the article treats enslavement and servitude on the African continent – like in many other world regions – as historically differentiated phenomena and reconstructs their forms within the collective histories of distinct groupings and their specific sociohistorical contingencies, thereby avoiding any homogenising notion of a singular ‘African’ mode of slavery. In this way, the study engages with debates on strong asymmetric dependencies (Winnebeck et al., 2023) and develops an empirically grounded framework that addresses the racialisation of freedom and agency in dominant liberal thought (Brace and O’Connell Davidson, 2018: 23).
This was made possible by focusing on sociohistorically contingent understandings of belonging and different interpretations of the interdependencies between groupings in relation to local histories of enslavement and migration. By reconstructing the intergenerational transmission of knowledge about slavery within families and integrating local knowledges, the study addressed how individuals from the same region – in this empirical case, Darfur – have learned to remember slavery in different ways. These differences influence how they construct their belongings and shape their different migration opportunities; more importantly, they shape how they look back on their past and talk about their migration experiences in the present.
Sociohistorical experiences of enslavement in Darfur
The diverse sociohistorical meanings attributed to the status of slave, particularly within different communities in the African continent (Rossi, 2024: 3; Searing, 1993: 43), underscore the limitations of retrospectively interpreting slavery through a Western lens (Kopytoff and Miers, 1979: 3; Lecocq and Hahonou, 2015: 186; Van Rossum, 2021). Such interpretations, shaped by the binary of slavery and freedom (Martins and O’Connell Davidson, 2022a: 2; Wimmler and Wiegmink, 2024), obscure the manifold experiences of enslavement and servitude within the continent. Darfur’s history provides an illustrative example of how ethnicised or racialised belongings, such as ‘Arabs’, ‘Blacks’ (Zurqa in Sudanese Arabic) or ‘Sudani’, carry multiple meanings influenced by experiences and histories of enslavement and servitude (Vezzadini, 2012).
Historically, Darfur was dominated by non-Arab groupings, including the Daju and Fur (Kapteijns, 1984; O’Fahey, 1973). In these societies, power was often consolidated through partial assimilation of outsiders via enslavement, servitude or concubinage, relatively common practices across societies in the region (Lovejoy, 2000 [1983]: 2). Slavery in these contexts was not a homogeneous condition; individuals experienced varying degrees of autonomy and played different roles within the communities where they lived (Kopytoff and Miers, 1979: 20). For some, enslavement could even lead to social advancement; for example, through marriage (Quirk and Rossi, 2022). However, this did not imply that slave ancestry was rendered inconsequential.
The Dar Fur Sultanate (c. 1650–1874, briefly reinstated 1898–1916) provides an illustrative example of the intertwining of power and slave trading. The Sultanate controlled trade routes, including those facilitating the capture and enslavement by Arab groupings from Dar Fur of individuals from less centralised southern groupings in what is now South Sudan and the Central African Republic (Sikainga, 1989: 77). The enslaved individuals played a range of roles, including forced conscription into the Sultanate’s army and positions close to ruling families (Kapteijns, 1984: 109).
The spread of Islam had a further impact on the practice of enslavement in the region. By the 17th century, Islamic everyday discourses were increasingly being used to justify violence against so-called pagan groupings in the south (O’Fahey, 1973: 34). These discourses were interwoven with power struggles along the Nile Valley, and groups of slave raiders from the Nile expanded their operations into the southern peripheries of the Sultanate (Sikainga, 1989: 80). Local communities were subjected to raids carried out by groups from the Dar Fur Sultanate with the objective of enslaving them (Holt, 1970 [1961]: 66).
British colonial initiatives to abolish slavery in the 19th century further disrupted the power balance, contributing to the collapse of the Dar Fur Sultanate in 1874 (O’Fahey, 2018: 17). Despite the legal prohibition of slavery, it persisted after Darfur’s integration into Sudan in 1916. Practices such as raids, coerced marriage and discrimination based on slave status continued to be observed (Makris, 2024; Sikainga, 1996: 116). These practices left lasting legacies within Sudanese state institutions and society, where slave ancestry and ownership often signified social distinction (Klein, 2009; Sharkey, 1994: 189). Terms such as Sudanii and Furawi (Darfurian) continued to evoke associations with slavery across North Africa and the Middle East (Abbas, 2016; Vezzadini, 2012; Walz and Cuno, 2010).
Migration trajectories remain deeply shaped by these historical experiences. Allegations of slave ancestry frequently underpin violence, coercion and unpaid labour along migration courses in North Africa (Cé Sangalli, 2024: 195). For instance, conflicts in Sudan during the 1980s saw renewed incidents of human capture and sale (Jok, 2001: 21). Even today, ethnicised violence in Darfur targets communities perceived as Black (Zurqa), who are labelled as slaves (Michael and McNeill, 2023).
Empirical evidence from interviews reveals that historical trade routes once used for enslaving and trading individuals continue to shape contemporary migration. Interviewees recount confrontations during their migration where they were ascribed the status of slaves (‘Abd in Arabic). These autobiographical accounts illustrate how sociohistorical power inequalities have transformed but remain influential in shaping interdependencies in Darfur and North Africa.
Findings: The nexus between enslavement and migration
From the corpus of interviews, the present article focuses on two cases that exemplify contrasting configurations in the nexus between collective histories of enslavement and migration. These cases illustrate typical components of the interrelation between historical slavery and migration courses in Saharan Africa (see Lecocq, 2015: 35). While the combination of these components differs across historical phases and individual biographies, the findings provide insights into sociohistorical power inequalities that shape the contrasting migration courses in North Africa of representatives of ‘Arab’ and ‘Black’ (Zurqa) groupings in Darfur.
The case of Taha Abdalla, an Arab from Darfur, exemplifies a type in which the nexus between slavery and migration serves to construct the image of ‘African migrant’ and secure refugee status by framing experiences within narratives of ‘slavery’, while downplaying familial involvement in the perpetration of violence in Darfur. In the case of Umar Yayia, 3 a ‘Black’ (Zurqa) from Darfur, his lived experiences would align with certain definitions of slavery, particularly those focusing on control over people via the threat of violence (Bales, 1999: 277). However, this case represents a distinct type where the individual’s downgrade of status through having to perform coerced work is dethematised in favour of a dominant focus on construction of the family as belonging to a noble lineage. Taken together, these types show that memories of enslavement manifest not only as intergenerational inequalities, but also as practical interpretive frames that migrants actively use, transform or silence while experiencing shifting power interdependencies and moral expectations across different figurations.
Taha Abdalla: Thematisation of ‘slavery of Africans’ as a form of empowerment in Europe
In 2019, I conducted an interview with Taha Abdalla in Germany, in collaboration with my Sudanese colleague, Mahadi Ahmed, who is an Arab from Sudan. I began the interview by asking Taha to give a detailed account of his life and his family’s history. However, he refused to talk about the latter. Instead, he concentrated on presenting his story as one of victimisation by the conflict in his home region, Darfur, and the harsh circumstances he faced as an ‘African migrant’ during his journey. In this case, there is a discrepancy between the way in which Taha and the grouping to which he belongs are perceived as Arabs in figurations in Darfur, and the way in which he defines himself, and is defined by others, as ‘African’ in figurations in Libya and Germany.
In the course of the interview, Taha attempted to attribute the ‘human rights violations’ and ‘slavery’ that he and other ‘African migrants’ had experienced in Libya to the actions of Europeans and the European Union. It would be possible to explain the categorisation of Taha in Germany as ‘African’ and ‘Black’ solely in terms of the lack of awareness among long-established Germans of the nuances within Sudanese society, including those based on ascriptions of slave ancestry. However, a reconstruction of his life history reveals that Taha belongs to the Mahamid Rizayqat, an Arab grouping in Darfur, and is recognised as such in the Sudanese diaspora, as confirmed by other informants four years after the initial interview.
In other interviews with Darfurians, Taha’s grouping, along with the Southern Rizayqat, is perceived as having been involved in the past in the enslavement of other groupings, particularly those in what is currently South Sudan. More importantly, Taha’s uncle was a prominent figure in one of the main Janjawiid militias during the early 2000s. At that time, these mostly Arab militias used the rhetoric of slave status to justify their violent actions, which were referred to as ‘crimes against humanity’ and ‘alleged genocide’ by the International Criminal Court (2005). These actions were mostly directed against people they pejoratively referred to as Zurqa (‘Black’). This is significant because Taha’s family is part of an established clan of Rizayqat Arabs in the Geneina figuration, which is shaped by ethnicised conflicts between Arabs and non-Arab Masalit to this day. The following discussion will elucidate the manner in which Taha’s birth constellation and his experiences of changing figurations between ‘Africans’ and ‘Arabs’ shaped his migration opportunities and his migration course.
Taha was born in 1985 to a Muslim Arab Arabic-speaking family of the Mahamid Rizayqat clan in Geneina. He thus belonged to an Arab family in a region that is predominantly inhabited by non-Arab Masalit groupings. He was born in a context of land pressure following the droughts of 1983/84 (De Waal, 2005 [1989]). Nevertheless, his family continued to reside in this area. This type of establishment can be seen as an indication of their status as landowners and potential owners of enslaved persons or servants in the past (see Pelckmans, 2015: 292). The ascension of Umar al-Bashir to power in Sudan in 1989 precipitated an escalation of tension in Darfurian figurations. Bashir’s growing support for local Arab groups and tolerance of violence against non-Arabs, including those in Geneina, Taha’s hometown, contributed to this heightened instability (Behrends, 2007: 115).
Tensions between Arabs and non-Arabs reached a crescendo in the 2000s, resulting in a series of conflicts between Masalit and Arab groupings. By this time, Taha was over 15 years old and was able to complete his secondary education. Taha states that he migrated from Geneina to El Fashir and, in late 2006, to Libya aboard a pickup truck. He says the primary motivation for his migration was the ‘lack of employment opportunities’ in Darfur. In other words, Taha’s experience of the conflict in Darfur was primarily characterised by a lack of labour opportunities, rather than by any direct threat to his life or to the lives of his family members.
When Taha speaks about his time in Tripoli, Libya, he highlights discriminatory experiences and the dehumanising treatment of ‘African migrants’ as ‘slaves’ by Libyans: When we were in Libya it was also close to slavery, too. For example, like you work until your payment is over. That was also like slavery for me [. . .] all Africans that came from Africa are suffering from the same thing from Libyans like the curses of a Black people and such. We call it racism.
4
In this presentation, Taha emphasises what could be regarded as a metaphorical use of the term slavery. However, he actually experienced relative establishment in figurations in Libya, where he legally lived for five years until the escalation of collective violence after February 2011 (see Al-Dayel et al., 2021). That he had better migration opportunities than many other people living in Libya during this period is clear in the options available to him to escape from Tripoli. In May 2011, Taha migrated on a boat to the island of Lampedusa, Italy, allegedly with the Libyan authorities escorting the ship to international waters. His crossing of the Mediterranean gives insights into the opportunities available to members of his grouping. Taha says: ‘You know, the only reason that we were not afraid is because we travelled with the help of the state [. . .] I had actually a good feeling’.
In Europe, Taha initially resided in Italy. After obtaining a legal status he migrated to Germany in 2013. In Germany, he was granted refugee status, completed a technical course and obtained a formal position in a company. As of 2021, Taha ceased all communication with Darfurians he had met in Germany. One reason for this is the growing criticism of Taha’s Arab grouping in his hometown for its physical violence against the Masalit. This criticism intensified following the escalation of violence in Sudan in 2023, when Arab militias are reported to have referred to Masalit groups in Geneina as ‘slaves’ (Michael and McNeill, 2023).
In other words, members of more powerful or established groupings in Darfur call others ‘slaves’ as a rationale for the perpetration of violence against them. The more established nature of Taha’s status during his migration course as a representative of the Arab groupings in Darfur becomes evident when compared with the experiences lived through by a non-Arab interviewee.
Umar Yayia: Coerced labour and the relevance of social distinction as a family of ‘nobles’
Umar Yayia was interviewed on three occasions in Germany: in 2018, 2019 and 2022. In these different interviews, there are changes in the way he presents the conflicts that led to his migration, which increasingly became entwined with the collective history of slavery in Darfurian figurations. Furthermore, these interviews show how the transmission of collective memories of slavery within his family reflect the social distinction of his ‘original’ Daju family. In this sociohistorical context, the notion of nobility is potentially associated with the historical practice of owning slaves: ‘The nobleness of the nobility is not possible without slaves’ (Pelckmans, 2015: 292). Umar was taught by his family to trace their history back to one of the first Daju sultans of Dar Daju (later Dar Fur), and Umar interpreted this as a significant form of distinction in his hometown.
Umar was born in 1996 into a Muslim Daju-speaking family in west Darfur. Umar’s father visited the military academy and was able to establish his family through a position in the Sudanese Armed Forces. He married four wives, and Umar is the eldest son of the second wife. His parents are cousins, and the practice of intra-familial marriage continues to exert a significant influence on the dynamics of the family and questions of inheritance. Their belonging to an established ‘noble’ Daju group may be indicative of their ancestors’ involvement in the enslavement of others (see Kapteijns, 1984: 110).
Umar was raised in close proximity to his mother, who was not in favour of his father’s decision to send him to Quranic school and to learn Arabic. From Umar’s current perspective, he believes it was of greater importance for his mother that he should learn about their ‘original’ Daju ancestry and to speak Daju. Umar underwent socialisation within a Zurqa Daju family, during which he learned to recognise those whom his maternal grandmother – also a relative from the paternal side due to intra-marriage – regarded as ‘slaves’, or Daju who were not ‘original’ (Tchirke in Daju). He says that his grandmother used to say that the Tchirke were ‘unaware of their origins’.
Umar was approximately 10 years old when his father joined an armed opposition group in 2006. This came amid an upsurge in violence between local Darfurian forces, who call themselves ‘Africans’, and Janjawiid militias, who call themselves ‘Arabs’ and are backed by the central government (Behrends, 2007: 125). Contact between Umar’s family and his father became increasingly sporadic. He states that they were able to live a relatively comfortable life, although this depiction fails to acknowledge the fact that the family and their property were attacked by Janjawiid forces in their hometown during this period. Considered Zurqa (‘Black’) by the Arabs in the figurations in Darfur, the Daju were the target of physical violence during Umar’s childhood and are still referred to as slaves by some Arab militias.
In this context, Umar was unable to attend either the Quranic school or any other educational establishment. The involvement of Umar’s father in an opposition group positioned Umar as the eldest male person in his household, which entailed gendered expectations of providing for his family. This gendered role within the family is a pivotal component in understanding his decision to migrate and seek employment in the gold mines of Jabal Amir in 2012, at the age of 16.
In this phase of his life, Umar became increasingly involved in collective physical violence in the figuration with members of other groupings. One such instance was in late 2013, when he invited a Christian acquaintance from the Nuba Mountains who was working in the gold mines to stay with his family in his hometown. A message from Umar’s mother to Umar, who was out of town at the time, said his guest had been confronted by neighbours. In our first interview, Umar presented this conflict in connection with the Christian affiliations of his guest. The neighbours are presumed to have accused Umar and his family of being Christians and set fire to their house.
However, in the follow-up interview conducted in 2022, a more nuanced version of the conflict emerged. Umar stated that his guest originated from the Nuba Mountains and that members of the Daju Muslim community in his hometown regard them as ‘slaves’ and ‘non-believers’: Nuba, Nuer, Dinka, Shilluk are all slaves (Tchirke), second, third class people [. . .] among the Daju, a person should not marry a Nuba or any other tribe like Dinka or Nuer, Shilluk, the tribes from South Sudan [. . .] if I marry, my family, they will kill me because it is embarrassing.
When asked about the source of his knowledge regarding these ascriptions of belonging, Umar explained that his grandmother had used them during his childhood. He stated that he had acquired this knowledge in the context of the noble belonging of his own family, who were ‘original’ Daju and could trace their genealogy to the Daju Sultan. For Umar, these status differences affect marriage possibilities among the Daju. He describes those with slave ancestry among the Daju and their different opportunities for power: They work as craftsmen, and they are also treated as second or third class in the same tribe. They are not treated so well because, for example, they only marry among themselves.
During the attack in late 2013, Umar’s family home was set on fire by members of the local community after they accused Umar and his family of hosting a Christian Nuba in their house. At the time, Umar’s mother, grandmother and one of his brothers were not present. However, three siblings of Umar, aged between six and 12 years old, perished in the fire. Following the incident, the family was prohibited from returning to their hometown. Umar was told by a colleague that the police wanted to arrest him and that he should avoid returning to the area.
Umar then migrated to Israel via Egypt. While traversing the Sinai Peninsula, other individuals who were travelling with him were fatally shot because they were unable to comprehend orders shouted in Arabic. Upon reaching Israel in April 2014, Umar was legally treated as an ‘infiltrator’ and subjected to detention. According to him, he was coerced into signing papers (although he had never learned to read) and then deported back to Sudan.
In Sudan, Umar was imprisoned and forced to work in a detention centre loading sacks of cement onto a truck at an undisclosed location in Khartoum. Umar escaped from prison in May 2015 and undertook the arduous journey via Chad to Niger. In figurations of those coerced to work and those coercing them in Niger, he was compelled by local residents to search for gold in the desert on the Djado Plateau, facing the imminent threat of being killed. Umar does not interpret this period of his life as one of enslavement, despite the fact that sociohistorical processes of enslavement have shaped interdependencies between groupings in the region (Rossi, 2009b).
Umar was able to flee the desert in Niger and cross into Libya in September 2015. Upon his arrival in Libya, he discovered that his family remained under threat in Darfur. In Libya, Umar was subjected to multiple instances of robbery, compelled to perform unpaid labour for Libyan individuals and repeatedly referred to as a ‘slave’. He was detained involuntarily in a warehouse with other migrants, and some of them were killed by his side (see IOM, 2017). Following three unsuccessful attempts to cross the Mediterranean, Umar’s vessel was rescued in November 2016. Umar was transported by rescue personnel to Italy. From there, he migrated to France. Regarding the crossing of the Mediterranean, he states: There’s nothing to eat for two days, there are people they die [. . .] Ahmad stayed at my side too, he died. [. . .] Three women, me I think it’s eight or well nine they are – they are already dead.
Following an attempt by the French authorities to deport him, Umar relocated to Germany in October 2017, where he currently resides with refugee status. He completed an integration course in 2019 and is currently enrolled in a technical course to become a bus driver. Prior to the 2023 Sudanese war, his family was briefly no longer subjected to persecution in Darfur. Nevertheless, a dispute arose between his mother and grandmother regarding his mother’s decision to remarry, resulting in the two no longer residing together.
Umar states that his grandmother did not perceive his mother’s future partner as being of the same lineage as their family. Umar situates this conflict within a broader context of the figuration between the ‘original’ Daju from Dar Daju, who trace their origins to the Daju Sultan, and outsiders from other regions. In Umar’s present interpretation of the collective history, the ancestors of the outsiders may have been enslaved by more established Daju families, such as his own, in the past. Furthermore, even while residing in Germany, separated from his family, Umar believes that he must marry a woman of similar Daju origin to avoid potential conflict within his family.
Conclusion
By reconstructing how individuals recognise themselves as part of particular groupings through a figurational and biographical approach, this study sheds light on how belongings are constructed – often in relation to past histories of enslavement – and how these constructions transform before, during and after migration. To understand these transformations, it is crucial to engage in detailed longitudinal research that reconstructs changes in power asymmetries, the meanings of belonging and the status of ‘slave’ over time in different figurations.
The case reconstructions of Taha Abdalla and Umar Yayia illustrate how migration is intertwined with the historical positioning of individuals and their collectives in their home regions. From a figurational perspective (Elias, 2008 [1976]), both belong to families with established positions in Darfur, Sudan. Umar’s family takes pride in its nobility, while Taha’s family is influential in Sudanese national politics and the current war. Yet, their migration courses show how family histories assume new meanings in different figurations. For Umar, belonging to a noble family is defined in relation to those constructed as having slave ancestry. In Taha’s case, his Arab grouping and extended family in Darfur legitimise violence against those they construct as Zurqa (‘Black’), such as the Daju to which Umar belongs, by invoking the collective history of slavery.
However, these established familial and collective belongings are transformed in migration figurations. For instance, Taha, though not regarded as a descendant of slaves in Darfur, adopts a victimhood narrative linked to slavery during his time in Libya and Europe. In terms of the social constructivist sociology of knowledge (Berger and Luckmann, 1991 [1966]), this shift reflects the influence of racialised ascriptions and common human rights discourses in Europe, allowing him to avoid addressing his family’s involvement in violence in Darfur, which could jeopardise his refugee status in Germany. Meanwhile, Umar refrains from framing his experiences of coerced labour as slavery because of the stigma attached to such associations within his family where he was socialised into particular ways of speaking about enslavement.
As these cases show, power asymmetries between groupings in the home regions of migrants shape their migration opportunities and transform constructions of belonging across different contexts. These asymmetries generate new forms of subjugation and redefine the meaning of slave status. For instance, families historically associated with slave ownership may invoke memories of being enslaved to justify their own power or to improve their members’ chances of securing a legal status abroad. Conversely, individuals subjected to coerced labour may avoid referring to their experiences as ‘slavery’ because of the stigma attached to such associations within their families and local communities. These shifting presentations of belonging underscore the nexus between enslavement and migration, and call for an approach that incorporates local knowledge and reconstructs transformations in power interdependencies before, during and after migration.
From a figurational and sociology of knowledge perspective, this shows how constructions of belonging are shaped by long-term power interdependencies and the intergenerational transmission of knowledge and collective memories. What appear in asylum contexts as individualised narratives of victimhood or survival are embedded in broader sociohistorical figurations in which groupings are differently positioned in relation to experiences and histories of enslavement and violence. Reconstructing these processes biographically makes it possible to trace how migration trajectories are shaped not only by present contingencies, but also by intergenerationally transmitted knowledge that influences opportunities and constraints across figurations. In this sense, the article conceptualises migration as part of long chains of coerced interdependencies and shows how memories of enslavement continue to inform claims-making, moral positioning and interactions in transnational figurations. It thus advances a sociological approach to migration that reconnects contemporary mobility to historically layered forms of enslavement and servitude, reconstructing the nexus between them through migrants’ own relevancies and experiences, and shifting the analytical focus from abstract notions of freedom and agency to sociohistorically produced contingencies, opportunities and less salient power inequalities.
Footnotes
Acknowledgements
I extend my gratitude to the editors of Sociology and the two anonymous reviewers for their insightful comments on earlier drafts, which significantly improved this article. I also thank Ruth Schubert for her careful English proofreading.
Funding
The author disclosed receipt of the following financial support for the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article: This work was supported by the German Academic Exchange Service (DAAD) under Grant ST31 57440921 (2019–2023) and by the German Research Foundation (DFG) under Grant 414323407.
Declaration of conflicting interests
The author declared no potential conflicts of interest with respect to the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.
