The Bad-Ass Librarians of Timbuktu is not really the story that it bills itself to be, but that's OK. The actual story is better. Really, though, it is three stories told in succession that culminate in the dramatic manuscript heist that was not quite as dramatic as it is portrayed in the blurbs. That is OK too. Nothing is ever as dramatic as it is portrayed in the blurbs.
The first story--and to me the most interesting one by far--is the story of how the nearly 400,000 manuscripts managed to find their way to the libraries (45 of them) of Timbuktu. This is a fascinating story of which I knew almost nothing. Timbuktu has been a center of Muslim scholarship for a thousand years, and, during the heyday of Islamic thought, it was the most important learning center in all of Africa. It was home to poetry, medicine, art, science, mathematics, astronomy, and all of the other fields that flourished in the Golden Age of Islamic Thought. It was also a center of Sufism, the mystical (and very moderate) form of worship that largely made the expansion of Islam into Africa possible.
But there have always been extremists in Islam (as in Christianity) that don't much care for poetry and scholarship. Each time this happened--in the fourteenth century under Sunni Ali, in the seventeenth century under Moroccan rule, and in the 19th century during the reformist efforts of the Sufi reformation--the city's librarians would take the manuscripts underground. They would be hidden in the houses of private citizens until it was safe to bring them out again. The entire city developed a into a collective devoted to preserving manuscripts. When Mali fell under French colonial rule in the early 2oth century, nearly all of the manuscripts were kept by individual citizens to prevent the French from looting Timbuktu's greatest treasures.
After giving this background, Hammer takes us to the 1980s, when a young manuscript collector--Abdel Haidera, the book's principal hero--begins going from house to house trying to convince people to sell or donate their manuscripts to a local library. Haidera is phenomenally successful and manages to retrieve thousands of manuscripts. Eventually, he and other librarians in the city compile nearly 400,000 manuscripts dating all the way back to the 10th century. These manuscripts document the rich intellectual history of Islamic North Africa. I found this long process of collecting rare manuscripts to be the most bad-ass thing that the librarians do.
The second story is the story of the Islamist takeover of Timbuktu during a civil war in Mali between the Malian government and Tuareg rebels in the north. For about nine months, Timbuktu was occupied by Al-Qaeda fighters who declared Sharia law and threatened to destroy the manuscripts. The occupation persisted until the French military intervened and ousted the Islamists.
The third story, then, takes place during the final weeks of the occupation, when Haidera, with the help of a large portion of the citizens of Timbuktu, saves the manuscripts from destruction by smuggling them first into homes and then, by way of the Niger River, into the South of Mali where they would be safe. In all, this smuggling operation preserved 377,000 manuscripts from senseless destruction. When the jihadists are finally forced by the French army to evacuate, they make a great show of burning all of the manuscripts that they can find, about 4,500 of them--the remainder having already been spirited to safety.
Hammer tells all of these compelling stories well, and throws light onto a genuinely heroic action by some seriously bad-ass librarians. But even more importantly, he alerts Western readers to the fact that the city of Timbuktu--which most of us know only as an ironic way to say "nowhere important"--is in fact somewhere very important. And they have a thousand years worth of books to prove it.