Sean Jacobs's Blog, page 129

Beyond violence and militarism

In Nigeria, we should train and empower communities to participate in security measures, rather than arming militias. Public domain image credit Ilyas Ahmed for AMISOM.

Our research has convinced us that policing is a task that goes beyond the police force and involves all citizens who say something when they see something going wrong. Community policing is an increasingly popular concept globally, while the war-like police force model is declining in popularity because of the propensity towards abusive use of force without guaranteeing public safety.

In Nigeria, the escalation of terrorist violence by Boko Haram and armed bandits especially in the northern parts of the country has resulted in a war of attrition that forced some local hunters to volunteer to assist the military in fighting terrorists. That is different from what we call community policing, because the war on terrorism has gone beyond the task of policing to denote a military mission or warfare. However, the spreading threat of farmer/herder conflicts over access to grazing land and watering areas, as well as the increased reports of rape, and kidnapping for ransom across the country have combined with police brutality to raise cries of the need for community policing in Nigeria.

The governors of the southeast region recently announced the formation of a militarized vigilante group named Ebube Agu (Awe of the Lion) to work with the police to tackle insecurity in the region. A similar formation, named Amotekun (Leopard), was announced by governors of the south western region. The northern region states rely on armed vigilantes to support the military in the war against Boko Haram but these groups could turn around to become political thugs, armed robbers and kidnappers if community policing is not put in place to move beyond conflict and warfare.

The Indigenous Peoples of Biafra (IPOB) launched their own Eastern Security Network after IPOB was proscribed as a terrorist organization for demanding a referendum on the independence of Biafra. But IPOB denied allegations that its members were attacking security officers and the governor of Imo State, Hope Uzodimma, confirmed that he had evidence that disgruntled politicians, not IPOB, were the ones sponsoring the violence. In the northern parts of the country, there are armed militant groups formed to prevent cattle rustling and deter kidnapping or massacres. In the Niger Delta region, militants are seeking more control over the resources.

Other countries on the continent provide valuable lessons around militarizing community responses. In the late 1980s and early 1990s in South Africa, the Inkatha Freedom Party (a Zulu nationalist group) clashed with African National Congress supporters in deadly violence orchestrated by the apartheid regime. We can also avoid the experiences of Sudan, where the Janjaweed militia terrorized the people and where the new republic of South Sudan soon descended into armed conflict between factions of the elites. Additionally, in Somalia and Mozambique, Al Shabab terrorists specialized in massacring Africans in a departure from efforts by communities to police themselves. Liberia went through a senseless civil war between armed thugs and the government costing many lives until the women came together to pray the devil back to hell in an approximation of community policing. The Democratic Republic of the Congo saw armed war-lords holding the people hostage over the control of the rare earth minerals that power the smart technologies of the world.

Image credit SR Martin via Flickr CC BY-NC 2.0

Not to be forgotten is the Central African Republic civil war between 2004 and 2007 caused by religious sectarianism. A peace agreement produced a lull in fighting, but the conflict resumed in 2012 and resulted in the dichotomization of the country between the two sectarian factions since 2014, with continuing mass sexual violence. Rwanda in 1994 witnessed hatred that was spread through the mass media, resulting in the killing of nearly one million Tutsi and many Hutus. During the Biafra War, the military government mobilized Nigerians against innocent citizens from the former eastern and midwestern regions, especially Igbo men, women and children, in a genocidal rage that killed an estimated 3.1 million people between 1967 and 1970 but without any suspects arrested by security forces.

All these prove that wherever people are armed as militias in response to heightened insecurity, mass violence can ensue. Turning African communities into armed vigilantes should be avoided, because this often leads to the perpetuation of violence against fellow Africans.

Instead we should move towards training communities in the use of digital technologies, such as how to use cellphone videos and cameras to record evidence of crimes, and how to set up community blog sites or electronics newspapers where tips on crime can be anonymously updated. Author and educator Assata Zerai has recommended that access to information technology and skills development for African women could help to improve people-oriented governance in Africa. Michael Kwet, a Fellow at Yale Law School���s Information Society Project, has called for ���people���s technology��� to be developed as an alternative to digital colonialism.

We recommend, in addition to improved social services, that houses and streets in communities be equipped with close circuit television cameras, powered by solar or by wind, when there is no electricity supply, as is regularly the case in Nigeria. Commercial establishments in the US and major streets in the UK already have CCTV cameras for surveillance despite privacy concerns by many. If communities control the surveillance cameras, the way private store owners do in the US, some of these privacy concerns might be abated.

Community watchfulness and surveillance should be controlled by the community instead of being used by the government to create a police state that spies on the people and erodes privacy and civil liberties. If a household sets up a camera to catch a babysitter abusing their child, or to catch the neighbors throwing trash over their fence, they may resolve the issue privately without involving the police.

Brian Jefferson insists that even though digital technologies are used in the US to control the people, with over 100 million names in crime databases, civil rights groups, and the Black Lives Matter Movement activists also rely partly on the same digital technologies to hold law enforcement officials accountable. Investigations should be handled by community committees with emphasis on peacemaking and healing. For instance, a widow could record the destruction of her farm and send the video to community organizations for mediation and possible reparations from the suspected offender without turning community policing into a means for more police control of communities, as Luis Gasc��n and Aaron Roussell warn.

Above all, we need to avoid the enthronement of toxic masculinity in African communities through the training and arming of vigilante young men. Rather, we should learn from our women who have a heroic tradition of resisting injustice non-violently. As Chinua Achebe suggested and Desmond Tutu and Mpho Tutu agreed, we need to promote our indigenous Africana philosophy of tolerance through Mbari or Ubuntu in recognition that we are brothers and sisters who inherited what Martin Luther King Jr called the World House, and that we should share in a beloved community rather than fight and burn it down with prejudice.

Edited extracts from Community Policing in Nigeria, forthcoming from Virginia Tech Publishing and from Fourth Dimension Publishers.����

Gikuyu in Catalonia

The loss of African languages, their link with identity, and their role in forging decolonial futures. Photo by David Allen via Flickr CC BY-ND 2.0

[The] fight for linguistic justice and the unity of the peoples of the world …

��� Professor Ngu��gi�� wa Thiong���o, September 2020

In September 2020, Ngu��gi�� wa Thiong���o, Kenyan writer, anti-colonial activist, and ���language warrior,��� was awarded the Catalonia Literature Prize in recognition of the bravery of his work in the face of repression and his stalwart support of African languages. His acceptance speech, given in his mother tongue Gikuyu, was heartfelt and rousing in equal measure. He accepted the award ���on behalf of all those who fight for linguistic justice and the unity of the peoples of the world.��� In the flurry of reactions that Professor Ngu��gi�����s award has produced, it is worthwhile to think critically about what the struggle for these goals must entail.

The decision to address the international audience in Gikuyu was always going to raise eyebrows, especially across the East African commentariat. One piece argued that he should have spoken in Swahili, another East African language in which Professor Ngu��gi�� is fluent, and which has a much broader base of speakers. This is a stupendous exercise in missing the point: Professor Ngu��gi�� has risked his career and, arguably, his personal freedom to express himself in Gikuyu, and this speech, featuring a moving tribute to his own mother in his mother tongue, was another lesson in Gikuyu oratory from the master himself. A majority of reactions, both formally published as well as in the comments sections, were positive. Professor Ngu��gi�����s acceptance speech was ���stunning,��� even ���wizardly.���

Most compelling of all, however, were the pieces which, inspired by this moment in Catalonia, reflected on the loss of African languages, their link with identity, and their role in forging decolonial futures. Linguists will recognize these issues and their interconnectedness. African languages represent fully one-third of the seven thousand or so human languages spoken on earth, and over half of these are in danger of no longer being spoken by this century���s end. On a continent in which culture is largely transmitted orally, African languages are vital to the continuity of valued histories and lifeways. Intimately tied with the practices of speaker communities, the use of African languages promises bold and endlessly diverse ways of seeing, engaging with, and building the world. Unfortunately, in trying to articulate these ideas, each of these think pieces ends up turning their fire on speakers themselves. To be clear: Professor Ngu��gi�����s ���linguistic famine��� is real. But, similar to how farmers are never to blame in an agricultural famine, language shift and language endangerment are driven by larger systems outside of most speakers��� direct control.

Take, for example, the ridiculing of Kenyans for ���mangled American accent[s].��� How people speak is a cumulative result of their life experiences, (dis)advantages, and identities. For many, these influences include being forced to conform to Eurocentric institutions at home or migrating to centers of colonialism. Blaming a speaker returning from America for a cringey ���put-on��� accent is only further engaging in deeply colonial attitudes of linguistic superiority that led to the abandonment of local languages in the first place.

Equally problematic is placing the task of language learning at the feet of parents without first critically examining how the home environment has been transmogrified by neoliberal forces. As some of my work has noted, many parents are aware of their role as traditional educators, but by the time they are done working all day to provide for their families (especially costs associated with modern schooling), they are often too exhausted to take on pedagogical activities such as songs, riddling, and storytelling. Expecting parents to return to their traditional roles as teachers is impossible without simultaneously demanding an end to these wider systems of exploitation.

In Catalonia, Professor Ngu��gi�� asserted that ���we live in a world built on systems of hierarchies, where very often the splendor of a few is built on the misery of others; a world where billions in the hands of the few have been earned at the expense of billions of the poor.��� In rejecting old hierarchies (both linguistic and otherwise), new ones cannot be reimposed: Gikuyu, Swahili, affectated English���all are languages. In addressing the issues of language endangerment and language change, we must recognize that it is the most oppressed who are most vulnerable to the market forces which encourage the shift to more widely spoken languages. Resultantly, no solution will come when the larger systemic issues of oppression are out of sight.

Instead, to join in Professor Ngu��gi�����s ���fight for linguistic justice and the unity of the peoples of the world��� is to engage in radical action: unsettling the comprador class engaged in maintaining the status quo (the ���police boots,��� ���gowned clergy,��� and ���state intellectuals��� Professor Ngu��gi�� writes about) and identifying with figures of resistance (���the working people��� and ���patriotic students and intellectuals��� defending the ���worker roots of national cultures���). The image of Professor Ngu��gi�� sitting with local participants of the Kami��ri��i��thu�� Community Education and Cultural Centre���in the shadow of the exploitative Canadian multinational Bata shoe factory where many were employed���and bringing his play Ngaahika Ndeenda to life in the local idiom is a potent one. Not debasing speakers of the languages that emerged in the chaos of the colony, but lifting up the speakers of languages that have been disadvantaged. Not seeing linguistic justice as a struggle unto itself, but recognizing that the fight for linguistic justice and the fight for social justice���Professor Ngu��gi�����s ���unity of the peoples of the world������are one and the same.

Do Africans need Karl Marx?

The day before Marx���s birthday, AIAC talk considers his legacy, and debates whether his ideas are still relevant. Watch the show Tuesday on our YouTube channel. Karl Marx (1818-1883), photographed around 1865 (Wiki Commons).

On May 5, Karl Marx turns 203. As ever, the legacy of the political-economist, philosopher, and activist remains contentious. Social media routinely produces declarations that reading Marx is unnecessary, that Marxism constitutes a racist body of thought, or that in the public sphere, Marxists themselves are on the fast-track to terminal obsolescence, out of step with contemporary academic and literary trends. Ironically, it has become the conservative right���s favorite pastime to label any and all progressive efforts���especially on issues of identity-based oppression, like Black Lives Matter���as being examples of ���cultural Marxism.��� How they would rejoice if they knew that Marxism was actually in retreat!

While there has generally been an explosion in political consciousness traceable to the eruption of electoral and popular mobilization after 2008 (#OccupyWallStreet, the Arab Spring, BlackLivesMatter, Sanders and Corbyn, #feesmustfall, EndSARs, etc) very few of these movements identify explicitly with the thought of Karl Marx. In fact, more often than not, Marxism is problematized. In left-wing circles, Marxism���s assertion that class is central to understanding oppression often comes across as crudely economistic, unable to grasp that race, gender, and sexual orientation are equally important axes of oppression.

Marxism���s reception in Africa is especially in decline. Such a decline appears stark when considering that in the 20th century, anti-colonial resistance claimed allegiance to Marx. African political leaders particularly adapted Lenin���s idiosyncratic synthesis, or adopted their own ���African socialism.��� Marx���s use in liberation movements was never straightforward; it was sometimes shallow and opportunistic, vindicating Marx���s own observation that ���precisely in such epochs of revolutionary crisis they anxiously conjure up the spirits of the past to their service, borrowing from them names, battle slogans, and costumes in order to present this new scene in world history in time-honored disguise and borrowed language.��� One reason for the decline of Marxism in Africa is that all the Marxists have gone. Where to? Many are now in government and presiding over the very economic programs they once denounced.

It is the collapse of the Soviet Union and the rise of neoliberal globalization that makes Marxism seem anachronistic; Marx���s faith in the inevitability of communism seems out of place in a world where capitalism has stubbornly remained. But, even in the face of that capitalism, Marx���s assumptions about its universalizing drive and its creation of a universal proletariat have attracted the widespread criticism that his theories were Eurocentric, not apt to explain the conditions of the ���global South��� where pre-capitalist social arrangements endure (such as the primacy of caste in India, the prevalence of traditional authorities in sub-Saharan Africa, or the role of political Islam in the Middle East and North Africa).

But such debates raise the fundamental question���what is Marxism, and who is a Marxist? For his part, not even Marx considered himself one. There are those who believe that Marxism is a living school of thought and practice, open to internal critique and revision when confronting new realities; and those who see it as static and doctrinaire. Who should we believe? Joining us on AIAC Talk to debate if the third world still needs Marx are Annie Olaloku-Teriba and Zeyad el Nabolsy. Annie is an independent researcher based in London, working on legacies of empire and the complex histories of race; and Zeyad is a PhD student in Africana Studies at Cornell University, working on African philosophy of culture, African Marxism, and�� the philosophy of science and modern African intellectual history.

Stream the show the show on Tuesday at 18:00 in Cairo, 17:00 in London, and 12:00 in New York on��YouTube.

On our last episode, to commemorate Sierra Leone���s Independence day and South Africa���s Freedom Day, we discussed ���Liberation after independence.��� For that, we had Ishmael Beah and Oluwaseun Babalola to touch on the contradictions of Sierra Leone���s past and present. We also interviewed Sisonke Msimang about post-national liberation South Africa. That episode is now available on our��YouTube channel. Subscribe to our��Patreon for all the episodes from our archive.

Does Africa still need Marx?

The day before Marx���s birthday, AIAC talk considers his legacy, and debates whether his ideas are still relevant. Watch the show Tuesday on our YouTube channel. Public domain image.

On May 5, Karl Marx turns 203. As ever, the legacy of the political-economist, philosopher, and activist remains contentious. Social media routinely produces declarations that reading Marx is unnecessary, that Marxism constitutes a racist body of thought, or that in the public sphere, Marxists themselves are on the fast-track to terminal obsolescence, out of step with contemporary academic and literary trends. Ironically, it has become the conservative right���s favorite pastime to label any and all progressive efforts���especially on issues of identity-based oppression, like Black Lives Matter���as being examples of ���cultural Marxism.��� How they would rejoice if they knew that Marxism was actually in retreat!

While there has generally been an explosion in political consciousness traceable to the eruption of electoral and popular mobilization after 2008 (#OccupyWallStreet, the Arab Spring, BlackLivesMatter, Sanders and Corbyn, #feesmustfall, EndSARs, etc) very few of these movements identify explicitly with the thought of Karl Marx. In fact, more often than not, Marxism is problematized. In left-wing circles, Marxism���s assertion that class is central to understanding oppression often comes across as crudely economistic, unable to grasp that race, gender, and sexual orientation are equally important axes of oppression.

Marxism���s reception in Africa is especially in decline. Such a decline appears stark when considering that in the 20th century, anti-colonial resistance claimed allegiance to Marx. African political leaders particularly adapted Lenin���s idiosyncratic synthesis, or adopted their own ���African socialism.��� Marx���s use in liberation movements was never straightforward; it was sometimes shallow and opportunistic, vindicating Marx���s own observation that ���precisely in such epochs of revolutionary crisis they anxiously conjure up the spirits of the past to their service, borrowing from them names, battle slogans, and costumes in order to present this new scene in world history in time-honored disguise and borrowed language.��� One reason for the decline of Marxism in Africa is that all the Marxists have gone. Where to? Many are now in government and presiding over the very economic programs they once denounced.

It is the collapse of the Soviet Union and the rise of neoliberal globalization that makes Marxism seem anachronistic; Marx���s faith in the inevitability of communism seems out of place in a world where capitalism has stubbornly remained. But, even in the face of that capitalism, Marx���s assumptions about its universalizing drive and its creation of a universal proletariat have attracted the widespread criticism that his theories were Eurocentric, not apt to explain the conditions of the ���global South��� where pre-capitalist social arrangements endure (such as the primacy of caste in India, the prevalence of traditional authorities in sub-Saharan Africa, or the role of political Islam in the Middle East and North Africa).

But such debates raise the fundamental question���what is Marxism, and who is a Marxist? For his part, not even Marx considered himself one. There are those who believe that Marxism is a living school of thought and practice, open to internal critique and revision when confronting new realities; and those who see it as static and doctrinaire. Who should we believe? Joining us on AIAC Talk to debate if the third world still needs Marx are Annie Olaloku-Teriba and Zeyad el Nabolsy. Annie is an independent researcher based in London, working on legacies of empire and the complex histories of race; and Zeyad is a PhD student in Africana Studies at Cornell University, working on African philosophy of culture, African Marxism, and�� the philosophy of science and modern African intellectual history.

Stream the show the show on Tuesday at 18:00 in Cairo, 17:00 in London, and 12:00 in New York on��YouTube.

On our last episode, to commemorate Sierra Leone���s Independence day and South Africa���s Freedom Day, we discussed ���Liberation after independence.��� For that, we had Ishmael Beah and Oluwaseun Babalola to touch on the contradictions of Sierra Leone���s past and present. We also interviewed Sisonke Msimang about post-national liberation South Africa. That episode is now available on our��YouTube channel. Subscribe to our��Patreon for all the episodes from our archive.

A forsaken people

The Indigenous people of the Tibetsi mountain range that straddles northern Chad and Libya have been neglected and stigmatized by the elites who control and favor development of the south. The Tibesti Mountains east of Barda��. Public domain image, credit Michael Kerling.

Lasting nearly a decade, the repercussions of the Chadian-Libyan conflict continue to be felt strongly by the Toubou people of northern Chad. The war itself took place in four phases of Libyan intervention in Chad, in 1978, 1979, 1980, and 1983, with the latter two phases lasting two and four years, respectively. The Libyan government’s fight against French military forces occupying northern Chad through Operations Manta and ��pervier in the 1980s was supplemented by the 1986 bombing of Libya by the Reagan-led US government in 1986 which killed dozens of Libyan civilians.

Located along the Tibesti mountain range, the states of Tibesti, Borkou, and Ennedi-Ouest were affected heavily between 1978 and 1987, during which the Libyan government engaged in a number of irredentist military campaigns in order to gain control of the country and install its own regime. During these attempted land grabs, many Toubou people were caught in the crossfire near the Aouzou strip, a strategic area of land on the Libyan border. Disenfranchisement of the people of Tibesti has not been limited to this conflict alone, however; the mountain dwellers of northern Chad have faced immense neglect over the past decades with the Chadian central government, based in the southern Chad capital city of N���Djamena, withholding infrastructural funding for the aforementioned northern regions.

The Front de lib��ration nationale du Tchad, an Islamic socialist organization born out of a political convergence between leftist Chadian National Union and the Union G��n��rale des Fils du Tchad, was founded by Marxist thinker Ibrahim Abatcha in 1966 and was active in following decades with the aim of eradicating neocolonialism and domestic imperialism. Abatcha, who was killed two years later by Chadian military forces, viewed the political climate of Chad following national independence as heavily predicated on regional supremacy of the south, and along with many of his contemporaries, was a critic of Chad���s first postcolonial administration under the authoritarian rule of Fran��ois Tombalbaye, whose Africanization policies favored the Christian and animist south. In the present day, Chad remains unequal for its northern citizens and reiterates that Chadian independence from the French in August of 1960 was not an eradication of hierarchy, but rather a transition of power from the French to Chad���s ethnic Sara majority.

While the federal government did gain control of the Aouzou strip in later years, Chadian President Idriss D��by, who died last week at age 68 following wounds sustained after a clash with rebel groups, had done little since to assist in the rebuilding of Indigenous communities in northern Chad despite himself hailing from a Zaghawa family from an Ennedi village in northern Chad. Employment opportunities are difficult to come by, schools are severely underfunded and hospitals are often not equipped with necessary medical technology. With the exception of Barda��, the capital cities of these northern regions are located several hundreds of kilometers south of the Tibesti Mountains. Although scarce regional airports exist, flights are often expensive and inaccessible to residents, while railways and roads are virtually nonexistent. Most work, such as harvesting dates, legumes, natron and mountain salt, is relegated to the informal sector. Barda��, the oasis town that served as the location from which Chad���s revolutionary radio was broadcast, has not had its dilapidated water pumps serviced in several months.

In the meanwhile, N���Djamena has seen rapid industrial growth since Chadian independence, with flourishing projects to improve wastewater systems and a 32-megawatt solar power construction project being very recently funded by the African Development Bank. The growth of the capital city has also been stimulated by its petroleum industry, with about 260,000 barrels of crude oil being sourced daily from southern Chad���s Doba Basin, a large region of hundreds of oil wells operated by Exxonmobil near the country���s border with the Central African Republic. As Chad is landlocked, a pipeline running from the Doba Basin through N���Djamena to the Cameroonian port city of Kribi transports these oil exports. Originally�� touted as a means to lift Chadians out of poverty and fund state welfare programs for its citizenry, profits from Chad’s petroleum industry have largely been siphoned off to members of the D��by administration and its supporters or used to purchase weaponry for regional conflicts.

Additionally, the end of the Chadian Civil War saw an abrupt halt to news coverage of areas north of the country���s main highway; rebuilding was viewed by vast numbers of Chad���s sub-Saharan population as unworthy of discursive consideration with urban development and the Boko Haram crisis around Lake Chad constituting the majority of news pegs since. The little reporting that has spotlighted the Aouzou strip area has portrayed its residents as uncivilized, barbaric, or dangerous, drawing parallels to widespread portrayals of Indigenous people by governments around the world.

D��by���s presidency stemmed from a coup in 1989 against the autocratic and brutal regime of Toubou politician Hiss��ne Habr�� when D��by, who was an army commander at the time, carried out attacks into Chad from the eastern Sudanese Darfur region with support from the Libyan government. By the following year, D��by and his forces had entered the N���Djamena metropolitan area and effectively ousted Habr��, situating D��by in his stead ever since. Corruption is rife in Chad���s elite circles and particularly D��by’s government, which as noted by writer ��sa��e To��ngar in his 2014 book on the political implications of the civil war, has pushed for the mining of blood diamonds in war-torn regions of central Africa, removed democratically elected leaders in neighboring countries and called for ethnic violence against his own people in Tibesti, Borkou, and Ennedi-Ouest.

Such perpetual regional wars have decimated Tibesti���s tourism sector, which once served as its primary source of revenue, thereby necessitating smuggling and mercenary work by its Toubou and Tuareg populations. Anti-D��by rebel groups like the Conseil de commandement militaire pour le salut de la R��publique, for instance, claims to have 4,500 militia members, of which the majority comprises Toubou people with the smaller Front pour l���alternance et la concorde au Tchad, operating from southwestern Libya���s Fezzan region being about one-quarter its size.

These rebel groups were born out of a combination of resentment due to decades of neglect by Chad���s south, exploitation by Libyan military forces and a means to earn money in an otherwise economically barren hinterland. Proponents of the ���war on terror��� ideology are quick to typify these rebel groups as terrorist outfits without examining the circumstances that fuel them. Southern Chad and Libya have forsaken the people of Tibesti, both socially and economically, in the name of national security and wartime profit. In the wake of Deby���s death, the future of these vulnerable populations remains unclear.

Shoprite���s attack on workers��� rights

The Southern Africa retail chain boasts massive profits, but its workers in Namibia are shortchanged. Photo by Scott Warman on Unsplash

For several years, Shoprite Namibia���part of one of Africa���s largest and most profitable retail chains���has ignored workers��� pleas for better wages and benefits. Given the company���s profit margins and the multimillion dollar bonuses it pays its top managers, Shoprite could easily have accommodated the workers��� demands but chose to continue with its highly exploitative and union-bashing practices. In 2014, for example, Shoprite went as far as granting increases only to those workers who were not members of a particular trade union. Workers were told to resign from that union in exchange for an increase.����

In June 2015, workers submitted a wage proposal to the Shoprite management but were once again ignored. In light of Shoprite���s refusal to bargain at all (let alone in good faith), and angered by the company���s decision to unilaterally impose increases, workers decided to strike in July 2015. The action ended on the advice of the Ministry of Labor, but Shoprite continued to violate the Namibian Labor Act and workers��� rights. Decisions concerning the workers��� wages and employment conditions were taken in South Africa and Shoprite Namibia did not meet its obligation regarding collective bargaining and the duty to bargain in good faith.

In 2020, Shoprite workers���through their trade union, the Namibia Food and Allied Workers Union (NAFAU), which represented the majority of workers in the bargaining unit��� demanded an entry level salary of at least R2,500 per month (about USD175), a general salary increase of R600 per month, and the introduction of a transport and housing allowance. They also asked that after 12 months of employment, employees should be treated as permanent workers. These modest demands could easily have been met by Shoprite. Instead, the company offered a mere 5% increase, which in practical terms means an increase of R100 per month for a worker with a monthly income of R2000.

After years of unfair treatment, Shoprite workers rejected this offer and went on strike on December 23, 2020. As Shoprite and its subsidiary companies, such as Checkers and USave, make their money from the purchases by the Namibian public, the Economic and Social Justice Trust (ESJT) called for a consumer boycott in support of the striking workers. The aim was to pressurize the company to negotiate in good faith and to accept the justified demands from its workers. The Trust also called on the Ministry of Labor to ensure that Shoprite adheres to its legal obligations. For example, the Namibian Labor Act states very clearly that during a protected (legal) strike, the employer cannot ask any other employee to do the work of a striking worker. It is also illegal to employ new workers to do the work of striking ones. Such ���scab labor��� is outlawed in Namibia.

However, Shoprite and its subsidiary companies disregarded the law and provided an example of the rule of corporate power. The Shoprite Holding Company made an operating profit of R7.15 billion (about USD500 million) in 2020 alone, but remained determined to retain its highly exploitative labor practices. The company declared a war on workers and showed complete disregard for the notion of tripartism and negotiations in good faith.�� Instead, Shoprite employed lawyers to find ways of circumventing the Labor Act. It went as far as illegally using scab labor during the strike which was confirmed by a High Court judgement in January 2021. Shoprite���s illegal action meant that the effectiveness of the strike was severely compromised, that the striking workers were facing starvation while the company was not even fined for its violations. Furthermore, the police were quick to act against protestors at Shoprite premises, who demonstrated in support of the striking workers and in some instances tried to block the entrance. On the other hand, the police did not step in to prevent the illegal use of scab labor by Shoprite.

These events demonstrated how the balance of power is tilted in favor of corporations. Shoprite stated that it will appeal the High Court judgement and the company did not abide by the High Court ruling. Meanwhile, the company is prepared to spend large amounts of money on a Supreme Court case in the hope of finding a legal technicality and a sympathetic judge to vindicate its violations of the right to strike. Shoprite also realized that the Ministry of Labor was unable to set the tone and enforce negotiations in good faith. Likewise, the Namibian government as a whole failed to pronounce itself clearly and to take action against Shoprite for its flouting of labor laws and disregard of the basic rights of workers.

Shoprite regards most of its staff as easily replaceable and in this case exploited their vulnerability. It used the unemployed ���reserve army of labor��� to its full advantage. The strike eventually ended in its fifth week as workers were unable to sustain it. The agreement signed provided negligible increases for both full time and part time workers, and the company refused to consider the introduction of transport or housing allowances.

The stage is set for further conflicts in the years to come. Allowing companies like Shoprite to continue their war on workers will not only affect those employed at Shoprite, but also Namibia���s and Southern Africa���s working class as a whole. Shoprite was allowed to set a terrible precedent that other companies are likely to follow.��

The Shoprite strike also had some positive outcomes. Communities and several political organizations joined the boycott in support of workers. Acts of solidarity with the striking workers were critical and could play a crucial role in the struggles to come. Likewise, international solidarity, particularly with other workers employed by the same company in the Southern Africa region, could play a central role in making future strikes a success.��

Regrettably, NAFAU did not use this strategy effectively to pressurize Shoprite across the region through international union networks. Even the support of national sister unions was muted and weakened the strike further. Going forward, when tackling transnational corporations like Shoprite, workers and their unions must utilize national and international solidarity action to enforce their demands. After all, trade unions have stated for decades that ���United we stand, divided we fall.���

A history of resource plunder

Since colonization, Africa has provided its best raw materials for the global North. Can countries finally break this pattern? January 2014 near Djeno Cabinda, Angola. Image credit JB Dodane via Flickr CC BY-NC 2.0.

This article is part of the ���Reclaiming Africa���s Early Post-Independence History��� series from Post-Colonialisms Today (PCT), a research and advocacy project of activist-intellectuals on the continent, working to recapture progressive thought and policies from early post-independence Africa to address contemporary development challenges. It is adapted from a recent webinar on natural resource sovereignty which you can listen to here. Sign up for updates on the project here.

The struggle for control over Africa���s natural resources has raged since the colonization of the continent. It continues today as the forces that undermine Africa shift from the former colonizers to transnational corporations, and the ideology that underpins the global economic order morphs from blunt ���flag��� colonialism to the hegemony of neoliberalism. The effect is still the same: the underdevelopment of African economies and undermining of state capacity to meet peoples��� needs. The following unpacks the roots of this persisting problem and offers some lessons from the early post-independence era, when governments across Africa recognized these issues clearly and enacted revolutionary policies to confront them.

Prior to colonialism, the countries of Africa were economically, politically, and sociologically structured organically around their internal needs and demands, meeting internal material and social challenges. This is not to say these societies were devoid of internal contradictions, conflicts between them, or engagement with the wider world������indeed, trade routes certainly extended beyond the continent. But on the whole, the economic structures and relationships that developed were shaped by dynamics and demands within African societies.

This was forcefully upended with the onset of colonialism, as African economies were extroverted, destroyed, and fragmented. A new structure was put in place in which African economies were inserted in the global economic order as providers of raw materials for the development of other countries������basically for imperial Europe. This has relegated the vast majority of the continent to a political economy structure of primary commodity export dependence.

Within this structure, African countries became dependent on the export of a small basket of barely processed minerals, timber, and agricultural products (cocoa, coffee, bananas, etc.) as raw materials to feed the industries of the global North. In return, Africa became dependent for their consumption needs on the import of the goods manufactured in the North, most often made using African raw materials.

This enforced ���unequal exchange��� of unprocessed so-called ���low-value��� raw materials for ���high-value��� processed goods has become the basic mechanism of unequal economic relationships between Africa and the advanced industrial capitalist North, and the means of continued appropriation of the wealth created in Africa by the North. This undermines the accumulation of wealth in Africa and its reinvestment for renewing, upgrading, and expanding productive capabilities of the societies on the continent, and therefore of their ability to meet the changing needs of the people. On the contrary, African countries and opportunities for their people have become trapped in the vicissitudes of the global market for their commodities over which they have little control.

The colonial restructuring of Africa���s economies and their orientation to the external needs of European industrialization have devastating consequences for the internal dynamics of the economies and the societies, marked by two key features:

First, as products which were before used and processed for an internal economy came to serve merely as unprocessed raw materials for Europe, the internal usage of these products was subverted. Iron, which was processed into agricultural tools and other mechanical tools, was now mined only to be carted out in raw form. Agricultural products which before were processed in wide-ranging forms for food, clothes, shoes, were now only exported in their raw forms. As a result, the chain of processes, skills, and knowledge of these products and their uses through the domestic economy was broken. Instead of being maintained and upgraded over time, the capabilities and capacity have become degraded.

Second, the relationships that existed between different types of economic activity and ���sectors��� of the economy were fragmented. The chain of mining, smelting, and crafting iron to supply the technological need of agriculture, such as tools for farmers, was fragmented during the colonial economy. Agricultural supplies to iron crafters were also equally disrupted. This shifted the overall nature of African economies so that these sectors no longer met the needs of and reinforced one another, helped each other grow, or evolved according to African needs.

As different sectors of the economy were no longer ���speaking to each other,��� the range of internal exchanges became limited and the overall economy became more shallow and weaker. For instance, farmers who now only sold their products to an external (North) market didn’t necessarily have an internal market for their products so that they could also expand their production and opportunities for livelihood. This led to a common belief that African countries have small markets, erroneously attributed to small national populations, and that there is simply nothing that can be done about it. But contrast this with global North countries such as the Netherlands or Denmark: their populations are smaller than many African countries, but because of the coherence in their economies they are able to have a deeper domestic market which allows for expanded production. Their economies were not fragmented and reoriented in the same way.

Such internal fragmentation and consequent shallowness of the African economy is aggravated by the artificial borders inherited from colonialism. Before colonialism, what now constitutes the national border between Ghana and Togo was a common space of economic interaction among societies. By being forced to operate behind new artificial borders also limits the range of exchange and economic depth.

Historically, the mining sector has been the focal as well as entry point for the construction of the primary commodity export dependent political economy. From South Africa to Zimbabwe to Ghana, colonization was consolidated as a process of European companies, supported by their governments, exercising possession and ownership of Africa���s minerals and expropriating the locals. This was replicated as more minerals were discovered in addition to gold, diamond, coal, and oil, and every time a new mineral is demanded by the global North, this dynamic is asserted anew.

However, primary commodity export dependence is not simply a reduction to the specific mineral or agricultural or other natural resources involved. Rather, it is the totality of relationships and dynamics of the appropriation of wealth, the extroversion of the economic dynamics, and fragmentation of African economies. This allows us to see how these dynamics extend beyond natural resources to other economic sectors, such as tourism, telecommunications, and finance. In tourism, for example, it is widely known that the higher end of the value-chain is dominated by a handful of transnational operators, who then appropriate the overwhelming bulk of the wealth generated, leaving Africans little out of it.

In this neoliberal era, the problem of primary commodity export dependence has been ignored at best and celebrated at worst. Promoted first by neoliberal economists and North policy institutions, an insidious narrative has proliferated that African countries should rely on their ���comparative advantage,��� recommending that they make better and more efficient use of their export of primary commodities. The power of this narrative has ensured that the transformation of primary commodity export dependence and its attendant problems as outlined above has ceased to be a central aspect of African policy making in the neoliberal period.

Echoing the neoliberal suppression of policies aimed at dismantling primary commodity export dependence, at the onset of neoliberalism the World Bank told African governments to abandon any notion to use mineral resources to serve social priorities or developmental priorities, and give up their running and management of minerals and mineral wealth to transnational companies. As the Bank stated:

The recovery of the mining sector in Africa will require a shift in government objectives towards a primary objective of maximizing tax revenues from mining over the long term, rather than pursuing other economic or political objectives such as control of resources or enhancement of employment. This objective will be best achieved by a new policy emphasis whereby governments focus on industry regulation and promotion and private companies take the lead in operating, managing and owning mineral enterprises.

Paradoxically, even the revenue from the export of primary commodities has been undercut through World Bank-promoted programs of lowering corporate taxes and royalties, and giving many concessions and incentives to transnational mining companies in the name of attracting foreign investment.

Many of the best tools to fight against dependency, such as development planning and import-substitution-industrialization, have either been actively repressed by programs like structural adjustment, or pushed into the margins by the dominance of neoliberal thought and ���free market��� policymaking practices. These tools were widely deployed by early post-independence governments to assert sovereignty over natural resources, before they were truncated by neoliberalism, which has reasserted extractive colonial dynamics.

In the early post-independence period, after formal decolonization, there was wide recognition from governments, across Africa and across ideologies, that the key task for development was to confront primary commodity dependence and its binding economic constraints. Kwame Nkrumah recognized the problem clearly in stating: ���Africa is a paradox which illustrates and highlights neo-colonialism. Her earth is rich, yet the products that come from above and below the soil continue to enrich, not Africans predominantly, but groups and individuals who operate to Africa���s impoverishment.��� This recognition across the continent and the global South reverberated into mainstream policy institutions established in this era, such as the UN Conference on Trade and Development Planning or the African Institute for Development Planning. A key lesson from this era is the critical importance of restoring this recognition of the structure of African economies as a starting point for policy and activism.

Early post-independence governments worked to ensure that their economies accumulated for themselves by taking over the commanding heights of the economy strategically. This required asserting sovereignty, and therefore control, over their natural resources. The key mechanism for this was vesting the mineral wealth of their economies in the state. In Ghana, for instance, laws were implemented to declare that the mineral wealth or the wealth under the soil is vested in the Republic of Ghana and, it is the president who has custodianship.

Crucially, this nationalization extended beyond minerals to the mines themselves, even those already constructed. Taxation and royalties were also implemented to fund development and social programs, and the transfer of skills and technology was carefully facilitated.

Early post-independence leaders also saw beyond the hard economics of natural resource sovereignty to recognize its social dimensions. For instance, Kwame Nkrumah bought British mineral mines, which the UK had wanted to close as they did not make any profit. It came as a surprise to many that Nkrumah would purchase unprofitable mines, but his goal was not simple profit, but to create jobs as a social act to expand employment opportunities for the people.

This understanding of the social dimensions of dependency is key for the Post-Colonialisms Today project, as feminist politics is a central pillar. The basic recognition of dependency and its social dimensions, and the need to assert African agency over resources, provides a stronger basis to ensure power and agency for African women. At the same time, post-independence leaders must be critiqued for their patriarchal policies and tendency to sideline African women after independence despite their prominent role in anti-colonial struggles.

The early post-independence era also offers lessons on confronting the fragmentation of African economies. Their approach centered on industrialization: building African capacity to meet Africa���s needs rather than rely on the North to import high-value products.The key challenge many governments faced was generating the resources to support industrialization. Profits from exports from producing primary commodities were leveraged to support building factories, establishing institutional mechanisms, and funding social policies. The widespread use of tools such as the taxation of transnational corporations, protective tariffs, and royalties also generated resources.

However, a deeper problem often remained even as important efforts towards transformation were funded and planned: restoring internal linkages to African economies and making different sectors ���speak��� to each other once again. This challenge is particularly difficult and one many post-independence governments did not tackle sufficiently.��As Post-Colonialisms Today researcher Akua Britum details, post-independence governments had to explore methods for funding development beyond taxation, such as reinforcing social programs to meet workers��� needs without reliance on large cash incomes.

Some countries paid particular attention to restoring these linkages. Post-independence Botswana, for instance, enacted policies to ensure the processing of minerals mined in the country must take place, at least in part, domestically. They also insisted that the procurement of inputs for mining must be sourced in Botswana. This meant that while the economy was temporarily reliant on producing minerals, they could still build up their industrial capacity and promote structural transformation.

There are limitations and layers of complexity to approaches in the post-independence era though: as Post-Colonialisms Today researchers Kareem Megahed and Omar Ghannam point out, post-independence land distribution in Egypt from landowning elite to the peasant class was reversed as peasants only received flimsy usufruct ownership. Under Kenneth Kaunda, Zambia nationalized their mines but still remained deeply controlled by international mineral value chains, meaning that even though they owned the copper mines outright, transnational copper companies managed to undermine their capacity.

Both the strengths and limitations of early post-independence policies offer a wealth of lessons for today���s struggles for control over Africa���s resources. Critically, the clarity in that period around the importance of African state control over natural resources offers a path forward for contemporary efforts������it must be wrestled away from transnational corporations today just as it was wrestled from colonial forces. With basic policies such as nationalization being halted outright, as seen recently in Zambia, this task remains as urgent as ever.

Listen to Tetteh���s analysis on African policy response to COVID-19, drawing on lessons from the decolonization era:

The lessons of the Indian farmers��� protests

What can struggles over land and agriculture on the African continent learn from parallel movements in India? Image credit Randeep Maddoke via Wikimedia Commons CC0 1.0.

This is an edited version of an article first published on an Indian website GroundXero. It is republished here as part of our new partnership with the Amandla magazine in South Africa.

No other Republic Day���a national holiday in January marking when India became an official republic in 1950���has witnessed such unprecedented levels of public claims over their nation. The streets of Delhi were enlivened with spontaneous marches of hundreds of thousands of peasants who wanted a serious say in Res Publica or public affairs. Within a bouquet of lame excuses intended to stop the peasant march, one had been particularly ironic���that this demonstration was a ���conspiracy��� to defame India before the world by having a tractor parade in the capital on Republic Day.

The struggling peasants proved that they held high the banner of the ���world���s largest democracy,��� while the present regime is hell bent on trampling down and doing away with whatever democratic values are left in the country.

Earlier, in an interesting twist to the tale, the Union government on January 20 proposed to suspend the three contentious farm laws for one and a half years, and set up a joint committee to discuss the legislation. However, Samjukta Kisan Morcha rejected the offer the very next day. It resolutely clarified that the movement will continue until the three anti-farmer laws are completely repealed. The All India Kisan Sangharsh Coordination Committee (AIKSCC) was also determined to carry out its scheduled tractor parade on Republic day.

Not long after that,the Supreme Court had expressed intentions to stay the implementation of the controversial agricultural laws. It proposed to form an independent committee chaired by a former Chief Justice to ���amicably resolve��� the stand-off between the farmers and the government. Of course, there were serious questions about the ���independence��� of the committee. Nevertheless, the first signs of backing down were obvious.

Government forced to step backwards

Given the belligerent and antagonistic attitude of the current government, the announcement of the Union Agriculture Minister, Narendra Singh Tomar, about delaying the laws might have appeared a little unusual. But it was not entirely surprising. The unions were determined to have a tractor rally on Republic Day. The government hoped that it would force them to rethink their months-long agitation and tamely vacate their blockade of the national capital. Various measures, including threat and intimidation, to dissuade the farmers were tried and tested earlier, all in vain.

In an attempt to discredit the agitation, a section of the ruling dispensation hurled accusations of infiltration by Sikh separatist elements. This foul play resulted in a backlash and the government ministers in charge of negotiations with farmers��� unions had no option but to dismiss the allegations, washing their hands of them.

Peasants fight for livelihoods

Can this be termed a partial advance? Sure. Are there reasons to celebrate? Of course, yes. While it is important not to be overwhelmed or get carried away, there are enough reasons to feel confident about this collective action that has put the government on the back foot. Certainly, the credit goes to millions of peasants of this country who have relentlessly fought with their backs to the wall. The peasantry is clearly fighting for control over its own destiny (lives and livelihoods) against corporate control of agriculture ushered in by this government.

A deep agricultural crisis has engulfed the country for the last three decades. It has led to over 300,000 farmers committing suicide due to severe indebtedness. This chronic rural distress has forced thousands to leave their villages and migrate towards urban centers in search of an uncertain future. This situation cannot be undone so easily. We need a larger political battle to defeat it. But the current struggle is a significant step in that direction. It has instilled hope in the minds of millions who want to fight this fascist regime and regain the democratic soul of the nation.

The recent farm bills, plus the new labor codes, are attempts to carry out an unprecedented degree of reform that gives the big bourgeoisie a free hand to run the economy. There is no doubt that they are backing it very strongly. The labor codes are an attempt to flexibilize employment by giving owners the right to ���hire and fire��� employees and doing away with minimum legal guarantees. The farm bills can be seen as a response to the agrarian crisis from the Right. They are ably supported by the media and a pet group of economists, attempting to craft popular public opinion about the laws. Many have gone to the extent of heralding them as something that will revolutionize the Indian agricultural sector. Fortunately, the farmers are oblivious to such enlightened counsel.

The strength and the prestige of the agitation stems from the courage and tactical ingenuity of a movement that has a real economic base. It is an endorsement of the fact that the neoliberal agenda, internalized by all political parties in India including sections of the mainstream Left, continues to be resisted from below. The resilience shown by the peasants, mostly from Punjab and Haryana, and their organizations is exemplary and, frankly, much more radical than the politics of the existing Left parties.

The crisis of the Left

The crisis of the Left partially explains the relative inertia on the part of the trade unions and the overall workers movement to come out in full support of the current protests. There have been minuscule attempts by workers to join in unison with the agitating farmers. One fears that they are squandering a golden chance to launch similar offensives, in their own interests, while the iron is hot.

Unfortunately, the major trade unions of the country are controlled by one political party or the other. They fail to act as authentic expressions of the working class. In the absence of genuinely independent organizations, these unions function as transmission belts of their ���parent organizations.��� Perhaps this party-unionism explains the weak working class response.

Can the situation be reversed? Difficult but not impossible! Is it worth giving a try? Yes, we have no other choice!

This movement is very important for the Left. While any attempt to see this as a peasant uprising to capture state power would be foolhardy, it is also not ���a movement of only rich peasants��� as claimed by certain sections of the Left (adherents of a stageist Socialist Revolution). The farmers are fighting for their immediate and longer term survival. It would be criminal for the left to be so steeped in deep sectarianism that we squander this opportunity to form a redoubtable opposition to Hindutva (Hindu nationalism).

We must seize the moment and make all efforts to transform these protests into wider peoples��� struggles against the fascist regime and give it an anti-capitalist character. The current momentum can be deepened by including the demands of various sections of working people. Demands for employment generation, food security and food sovereignty among others would serve to reinforce the appeal and strength of this movement among the masses across different regions. Pursuing these demands would not only help the movement to gain support among the working people, but it would also push the representatives of sections of the rich peasantry to the margins.

There is an urgent need to build solidarity with the working-class struggles taking place elsewhere.

Strong movements from below

The current struggle also helps us to throw light on another important question. Can the fascist forces be defeated by forming electoral coalitions or are they best dealt with by powerful mass mobilisations from below? While not entirely ruling out the possible electoral scope, we need to pay attention to the evolution of Indian elections and the trajectory of the Right wing. The Sangh Parivar and the other Hindutva forces have maintained a consistent ultra-right direction since the 1950s, unhindered either by electoral defeats or any alliance with ���secular��� forces. One vividly recalls the optimism of a section of the liberals when the extreme-right entered the Janata party to form the government in 1977. With Vajpayee as the foreign minister in Morarji Desai���s cabinet, many saw the Hindutva project contained, tamed and civilised.

History has treated such optimism with contempt. No electoral misfortune is enough to uproot this agenda and any genuine battle against the Hindutva project must acknowledge this. A long-term political project to deal with it must be based on class struggle. Any search for a lesser evil (i.e. relatively ���harmless��� bourgeois allies) will act as a serious roadblock to vibrant opportunities for class agitation and mass movements.

The Farmers struggle and its partial advance has shown us the way. Strong movements from below can have the potential to take on the Hinduvta juggernaut much more than stitching together electoral alliances.

Machine wars

What does the expansion of artificial intelligence in warfare look like in West Africa and other US military outposts? Two soldiers from the Forces de Armees de Niger at a US military training facility. Image credit Mr. Robert Timmons for US Army Africa via Flickr CC BY 2.0.

One striking feature of US military involvement in West Africa is the absence of an observable strategic vision for a desired end state. Nominally, US presence in the region���s multilayered conflicts revolves around building ���security cooperation��� with state partners to improve counterterrorism capabilities, ostensibly providing protection to communities that states cannot. Concurrently, the US military is typically the prime diplomatic entity for high-level bilateral engagements. The result is that the US military is propping up the public authority of weak states, albeit in an ad hoc fashion that lurches from crisis to crisis.

Regardless of the reasons for US presence, there is hardly any deep public support for these operations; about 60% of US citizens do not view these kinds of conflicts as a security threat, and more than 90% oppose US invasions, even if weapons of mass destruction were in use. ���For the first time in recent memory,��� US international relations scholars John Mearsheimer and Stephen Walt write, ���large numbers of Americans are openly questioning their country���s grand strategy.��� Even within the Department of Defense, these doubts continue to periodically arise. As former Defense Secretary Mark Esper testified in February 2020 to the House Armed Services Committee, conventional forces in Niger, Chad, and Mali ���[need] to go back to home so they can prepare for great power competition.���

Due to war fatigue, the US has resorted to ���externalizing the strategic and operational burden of war to human and technological surrogates,��� creating what some scholars call a form of ���surrogate warfare.��� One example of ���externalizing the burden of war to the machine��� is a tool created by the Defense Innovation Unit and deployed at the Al Udeid Air Base in Qatar in 2017. Throughout its deployment, this tool monitored and rapidly combined social media feeds in Syria before relaying that information to pilots and ground troops, who then used it to identify, track, and strike targets in that area of operations. General Joseph Votel, then-commander of US Central Command, boasted of the model���s success and indicated that it would be replicated ���in future operations.���

In its preparation for great power competition, the US military is modernizing its joint airborne intelligence, surveillance, and reconnaissance (ISR) capabilities by exploring the uses of artificial intelligence and machine learning techniques for target identification. The final goal is to ���connect ISR sensors across all warfighting domains (space, air, land, sea, and cyber) directly with commanders and weapon systems, sharing data at an accelerated speed.��� In Niger, this project has materialized as the deployment of the new Block 5 variant of the MQ-9 Reaper, a drone first used in Syria in 2017. The Block 5���s major upgrades include the ability to integrate and combine multiple data feeds, as well as to process this data more quickly. Since 2018, the US has similarly armed their drones in Niger. In this fashion, West Africa joins Syria as a place that has become a test bed for this new wave of ISR technologies.

The ISR modernization program follows prior US military investment in the region with projects like the Trans-Saharan Counterterrorism Partnership, a military aid package of $353 million. Currently, H.R. 192, or the Trans-Sahara Counterterrorism Partnership Program Act, is a bipartisan bill seeking to codify that partnership. In 2015, the US military began construction of an airbase at Agadez, Niger, next to a Nigerien military facility. Costing $110 million, Agadez ���presents an attractive option from which to base ISR ��� assets given its proximity to the threats in the region and the complexity of operating with the vast distance of African geography,��� writes Nick Turse, a leading watchdog journalist of US-Africa military affairs. US forces are not supposed to have a direct combat mission in Niger, but their ISR role means they support local troops undertaking counterterrorism operations against Boko Haram and similar groups. This support has led to one publicly known US tactical engagement and combat casualties.

These military initiatives contribute to the African continent���s status as a longstanding field site for experimentation that traverses the colonial and postcolonial eras. More recently, since the publication of the Berg Report, Africa has been a proving ground for the neoliberal thought that permeates development economics, advocating for structural adjustment policies while most foreign direct investment is concentrated in resource extraction economies. This thinking tended to stop well short of acknowledging the enduring damage done by colonialism on the continent. Niger���s colonial experience was particularly vicious, with French military violence used to ���pacify��� the territory. This trend continued in the lead-up to Niger���s 1960 independence, as French military forces suppressed opposition so the French state could consolidate control over uranium deposits discovered between 1957 and 1967 and other minerals useful for high-technology industries. Today, uranium from French mines accounts for about 70% of Niger���s exports, but tax exemptions mean that little of that value flows to the state or its citizens.

It is against this background that Niger provides a good case study of the intersection between the rural poor���s land struggles and US military presence. Most Nigeriens are subsistence farmers whose land tenure rights are insecure. The country is susceptible to frequent drought and severe food shortages, conditions which have been exacerbated by climate change. As of 2004, 9% of Nigeriens (about 870,000 people) were enslaved or lived as bonded laborers. As there are few formal political channels or avenues for dispute resolution, conditions are ripe for rural rebellions. Mediated through religion, these rebellions are antagonistic toward a state that is unable to consistently provide services; indeed, rebel groups present themselves as a viable counter governing authority to�� the weak Nigerien state. But for the US, assisting the Nigerien state in putting down these rebellions is coded as counterterrorism, a rhetorical move that misunderstands the basic drivers of local conflict while also supporting the very forces that cause these rebellions.

One way of thinking about the US military���s Niger operations is to see them as laboratories for warfare, testing new forms of observability and lethality guided by the US state���s algorithmic gaze, the components of which are built from the kinds of metals and minerals that are extracted from Niger���s mines. Arguably, because of strategic non-oversight, West Africa is conducive for testing these weapons systems and assessing how they form a kind of ���predatory formation��� that spans from the borders to the hinterlands of the world.

If you want to get the West���s attention, talk about the Holocaust

Then make the intimate connection between the horror unleashed on Europe's Jews and the preceding centuries of atrocities perpetrated by the "Enlightened" West on those they colonized and enslaved. Still from Exterminate All the Brutes. Raoul Peck on the right.

Far-right revisionism and denial notwithstanding, it remains an intractable part of Western common sense that the Nazi murder of millions of European Jews was such a profound and massive evil that the national communities of the perpetrators and their enablers needed to collectively confront and atone for their role in it���and to educate successive generations on that complicity in order to strengthen their safeguards against any sort of repeat.

What���s largely absent in Western common sense, though, is how the national communities of Europe and the USA (not only those on the Axis side of World War II) have engaged in hundreds of years of genocide against Africans and the indigenous peoples of the Americas���a brutal history that continues to inscribe itself on their present precisely because it���s been barely acknowledged as such, much less atoned for.

It has long been noted by engaged intellectuals from Aim�� C��saire, W.E.B. Du Bois, Frantz Fanon, and Hannah Arendt to more contemporary writers such as W.G. Sebald, Sven Lindqvist, Pankaj Mishra, and Anthony Bogues that there���s an intimate connection between the atrocities perpetrated by the ���enlightened��� West on those they colonized and enslaved, and the horror later unleashed on Europe���s Jews by the continent���s most technologically advanced nation.

As C��saire wrote, Europeans had ���tolerated Nazism before it was inflicted on them���because until then, it had only been applied to non-European peoples.��� What is deemed fascism in Western parlance has been, in fact, the lived reality of black and brown people at the hands of the West for centuries. It is the reality of genocidal racism that has underlain the lofty pretensions of Europe���s liberal traditions, telling itself comforting stories as it claimed lives and land as ���property��� and violently subordinated whole continents to its greed.

In his new film, Exterminate All the Brutes, Raoul Peck, together with his close friend and late comrade Swedish historian Sven Lindqvist, channels those insights into a film that challenges its audience to confront the ugly reality of how we got here���and what it is that we have to do to confront, dismantle, and replace that reality with something better. We should have nothing to fear from taking such a journey: We cannot change the past, but we can change the future.

���You already know enough,��� says Peck, quoting from Lindqvist���s 1992 book that shares his series��� title (after Joseph Conrad). ���So do I. It is not knowledge we lack. What is missing is the courage to understand what we know and draw conclusions.”

 

Whiteness is an ideology of power and privilege, often at the mortal expense of those deemed ���other.��� It���s an imagined system of difference that was constructed to sanctify the monstrous violence required to subordinate the world and its people to European greed���by rendering them less than human.

Back in my activist days in South Africa, when we were being prepared for the possibility of torture in the detention cells of Adolf Hitler���s South African heirs, we were warned that our captors might seek, under threat of violence, to force us to engage in grotesque behavior���say, eating or drinking one���s own bodily waste, or other forms of subhuman actions. The reason, we were told, is that the interrogator needs to convince himself that when he is meting out torture on a defenseless person, he is not being inhuman: to maintain his own sense of humanity, to go home and hug his kids after a long day of torturing a victim, it helps if he is able to convince himself that his victim is somehow less than human and worthy of being treated accordingly. The advice we were given was to resist this dehumanization as much as we could, doing whatever was possible to remind our interrogator of our humanity and corrode the psychological defenses he had created for his monstrous behavior. I feel extremely lucky that I never found myself in the situation of those who had learned these lessons through personal experience. But the underlying principle is clear: Monstrous behavior in service of an ugly system requires that its victims be dehumanized.

Whiteness was constructed as a supremacist moral-psychological device to sanctify genocidal violence by servants of the colonial order, because the logic of that order required dehumanizing the tens of millions of victims across whose broken bodies European, and later American, ���progress��� would roll. Genocidal violence is anything but personal; it���s the systemic pursuit of what the perpetrators understand as a historic necessity for the greater good.

The United States��� failure or refusal to confront this legacy of whiteness has left an indelible and extremely toxic imprint on the minds, the sense of self and other, and the identities of its residents. This imprint is clearly at play in the systemic police violence against black and brown people in the US today.

One of Peck���s most striking scripted interludes has a black priest encounter a black slaver brutally driving a column of white children in chains through an African jungle. The power of juxtaposing historical roles through these images is that they attack the viewer���s unconscious bias, i.e., the learned dehumanization of the other that has sustained white supremacy for centuries���and which is clearly at work in the pattern of police brutalization of people of color. Yes, 13-year-old Adam Toledo, shot dead in Chicago last week with his hands raised, was a child. Yes, 12-year-old Tamir Rice, killed by a cop in Cleveland in 2014, was a child. But did their killers actually see them as children like the children in their own homes or extended families?

Perhaps we���re seeing the consequences of our society���s failure to confront the depth of barbarism that the United States has visited upon generation after generation of enslaved Africans, and on the indigenous populations they forced from the land. Sure, many white Americans have been made aware of that legacy, but the state itself remains stubbornly resistant to unpacking the appalling historical truths that so thoroughly negate the presumption of virtue in the origin story that American society has told itself for decades.

The US won���t overcome its systemic racism without overcoming whiteness: the systematic dehumanization of the ���other.��� That���s why Peck provides such a profound public service in ���Exterminate All the Brutes������he offers us a powerful tool for understanding how we got here.