Sultan Attahiru I, Ali Khamenei: A tale of two murders, lesson for Muslim world
When I was a child, my grandmother often told stories about the great history of the Sokoto Caliphate. One story stayed with me for many years. It was about the Scottish explorer Hugh Clapperton, one of the earliest Europeans to reach the capital of the caliphate in 1824 during the reign of Sultan Muhammad Bello. […]
When I was a child, my grandmother often told stories about the great history of the Sokoto Caliphate. One story stayed with me for many years. It was about the Scottish explorer Hugh Clapperton, one of the earliest Europeans to reach the capital of the caliphate in 1824 during the reign of Sultan Muhammad Bello. When Clapperton arrived, the Sultan reportedly asked him a direct question: “Why do the English wish to know the roads of my country?” Clapperton had to reassure the Sultan that he was merely a traveller and scholar interested in geography and trade. Despite his suspicions, Muhammad Bello treated him with courtesy and even held intellectual discussions with him on religion and politics.
In retrospect, the Sultan’s suspicion was remarkably perceptive. Less than 80 years later, the British would indeed use maps and intelligence gathered by explorers to conquer the caliphate during the British conquest of Sokoto. This campaign culminated in the death of Sultan Muhammadu Attahiru I at Burmi, in present-day Gombe State, on July 27, 1903.
Today, more than a century later, the Muslim world has been shaken by reports of the killing of Ali Khamenei, the long-time Supreme Leader of the Islamic Republic of Iran, during a military strike in Tehran operations undertaken by Israel and the United States.
These two murders of Muslim leaders are separated by 123 years and occurred in vastly different historical contexts. Yet, based on the lessons my grandmother taught me, they illuminate a strikingly similar truth: in moments of geopolitical confrontation, the side with superior knowledge systems, technology, and trained human capital almost always prevails. The comparison is uncomfortable, but it is necessary.
In 1903, British colonial expansion reached the heart of Northern Nigeria. At the time, the caliphate was one of the most powerful Muslim states in Africa. When Sokoto fell, Sultan Attahiru refused to submit to colonial rule. Instead, he undertook a historic hijra. He led a migration with thousands of followers who determined to continue the resistance elsewhere. The encounter was tragically unequal. The warriors of the caliphate fought with immense courage, but they faced an army equipped with Maxim machine guns, artillery, and modern military organisation. Hundreds were killed, including the Sultan himself. History recorded the bravery of the defenders. But bravery was not enough. One sobering truth became evident that day: “Courage can win battles, but knowledge and technology win wars.”
Behind the British army stood an entire civilization organised around scientific research, industrial production, and modern education. Universities produced engineers and scientists. Factories produced weapons. Military academies trained officers in modern warfare. The outcome at Burmi was, therefore, not decided only on the battlefield. It had been decided decades earlier in laboratories, universities, and industrial workshops across Europe.
That tragedy has a modern echo in Tehran. The killing of Ali Khamenei in Tehran reflects a different era but a similar pattern. Modern conflicts are no longer decided only by armies facing each other across a battlefield. Instead, they involve satellite intelligence, cyber surveillance, artificial intelligence, drones, and precision-guided weapons.
Similar to the time of Clapperton, operations today are often the result of years of intelligence gathering, technological preparation, and strategic planning. In other words, the decisive advantage belongs to societies that have built deep reservoirs of scientific expertise and technological capability. This is why some countries can project power thousands of kilometers away while others struggle to defend their own airspace. A painful reality emerges: “In the modern world, military strength is merely the visible tip of a much deeper iceberg called human capital.”
When Muslim societies reflect on moments like Burmi or Tehran, the natural reaction may be anger, grief, or political condemnation. But the more important question is strategic. We must ask “Why do these asymmetries of power persist?” The answer lies not simply in politics or ideology. It lies in outcome-based education systems, research capacity, technological development, and economic organisation.
For centuries, Muslim civilization was once at the forefront of knowledge. Scholars in Baghdad, Cairo, Cordoba, and Timbuktu led the world in mathematics, astronomy, medicine, and philosophy. But in the modern era, many Muslim societies fell behind in building the institutions that generate knowledge and technological power. As a result, the gap between technological leaders and technological followers widened dramatically. To illustrate this clearly, for example, today in northern Nigeria, we have abundant humans, but we lack human capital. When our gallant soldiers fight terrorists, both sides use imported weapons.
The 21st century will not be shaped primarily on traditional battlefields. It will be shaped in: universities, engineering laboratories, technology companies, research institutes and innovation ecosystems. Countries that dominate artificial intelligence, biotechnology, aerospace engineering, cybersecurity, and advanced manufacturing will define global power. Those that neglect these fields will remain strategically vulnerable. According to the Israeli Prime Minister, Benyamin Netanyahu, his attack on Iran was a forty-year dream. Israel uses everything area of knowledge to gain advantage over Iran. As one observer once noted: “The most powerful weapon in modern civilization is not the missile—it is the educated mind that designs it.”
Some concerned Muslims took to the streets to condemn the attack on Iran and the killing of its Supreme Leader. Some Muslims debated whether it is worthwhile or even permissible to support Iran. From Attahiru to Khomeini, what is clear is the need for a strategic awakening among Muslim countries.
The lesson is clear and urgent. Political rhetoric alone will not close the gap. Emotional reactions will not change the balance of power. What is required is a long-term civilizational strategy focused on human capital.
Such a strategy must include: Transforming education systems, investing in research and development, encouraging scientific culture, building technology industries, and developing strategic thinking in the Ummah. Our leadership must understand that national strength in the modern era begins with knowledge. Without these foundations, even wealthy nations remain strategically fragile. This has been tragically exemplified by rich nations such Qatar and United Arab Emirate (UAE) becoming retaliatory targets because they cannot defend themselves.
I believe, one of the intended learning outcomes from my grandmother’s stories was to derive lessons from history. In my mind, the story of Sultan Attahiru remains one of dignity and resistance. His refusal to submit to colonial rule symbolises courage and faith. But history also demands honest reflection. The tragedy of Burmi was not merely a military defeat. It was the consequence of a deeper imbalance in knowledge, technology, and institutional development. The events in Tehran, whatever their ultimate political consequences, remind us that the same dynamics continue to shape global power today. History is quietly repeating its lesson. “Nations that invest in knowledge shape the future. Nations that neglect it become subjects of the future shaped by others.”
For Muslim societies across Africa, the Middle East, and Asia, the real question is not who is to blame for past or present tragedies. The real question is what must change going forward. If the next generation of Muslim youth becomes highly educated in science, engineering, and technology, the balance of global power will gradually shift. If not, history may continue to repeat itself—from Burmi to Tehran and beyond. And the most painful truth may remain this: “The greatest defence of a civilization is not its army—it is the knowledge of its people.”
El-Yakubu is a Professor of Chemical Engineering, Ahmadu Bello University, Zaria [email protected]