Sean Jacobs's Blog, page 235

Albert Luthuli, Martin Luther King Jr. and global human rights

Albert Luthuli was ANC President when South Africa's biggest liberation movement turned to armed struggle. He's been the subject of much conjecture. What did he actually think about political violence?





Albert Luthuli. Image via Wikimedia Commons.

Albert Luthuli was the president of��South Africa���s��current��ruling��party, the��African National Congress (ANC),��from 1952 to 1967. One of the most respected African leaders in the age of decolonization, and the first African to win the Nobel Peace Prize, Luthuli, however,��is largely forgotten today.

My new book,��Albert Luthuli,��is the first book to make use of the newly available Albert Luthuli papers housed at the��Schomburg��Research Center for African American History and Culture in Harlem, New York. Thandi, the Luthuli���s daughter,��smuggled the papers out of South Africa when she went into exile in the late 1960s. They remained unavailable to researchers until very recently. My book��makes use of these papers, as well as other archival sources in South Africa and the United States,��numerous oral interviews, and personal memoirs,��to argue against prevailing historiographical claims that Luthuli was unconditionally opposed to any form of armed struggle. Luthuli was not the hapless victim of a palace coup led by an insubordinate Nelson Mandela. To the contrary, in July 1961, he mediated private debates among ANC and Congress Alliance leaders about the proposed turn to armed struggle with the formation of Umkhonto weSizwe (MK). He actively participated in and accepted a compromise solution that authorized the formation of MK as a separate, but related entity of the ANC, which at that time was to remain officially non-violent.��Subsequently, he met privately with MK personnel,��declaring support and understanding��for those��who turned to armed struggle.��Luthuli���s insistence that the ANC remain officially non-violent while also accepting MK invites us to move beyond conceptually rigid binaries of violence vs. non-violence. Before and after the ���turn to armed struggle,��� Luthuli practiced what I call ���international non-violence��� calling for global economic boycotts, sanctions, arms embargoes and diplomatic isolation of the apartheid regime.

But the provocative question of whether a Nobel Peace Prize winner could also accept counter-violence measures against the pervasive violence of the apartheid state has obscured other aspects of Luthuli���s significant legacy. Jon��Soske���s��important new book,��Internal Frontiers, highlights Luthuli as an activist-intellectual that theorized and practiced an inclusive South African nationalism that forged close ties with Indians. Luthuli held many identities: Zulu, African, pan-African, Christian, educator, elected Chief, singer, sportsman and committed family man. He also engaged in global anti-apartheid and human rights activities, supported by his fellow Nobel laureate, and longtime admirer, Martin Luther King, Jr. Human rights scholars like��Samuel��Moyn��have��not sufficiently��recognized how��Black South Africans and African Americans like King framed their freedom struggles within international human rights ideals.��(One scholarly exception��is��Carol Anderson, centering��African American human rights discourse and action��between 1940 and 1960).

The UN Declaration��of��Human Rights, enacted in��1948,��the same year as the beginning of apartheid,��was largely a reaction to fascism and Nazi atrocities during World War Two. It was tragically ironic that it��was��former��South African Prime Minister Jan Smuts who introduced��the��language��of human rights��into the UN Preamble��even though he refused to accept��that such rights were universal claims that extended to ���natives.��� South Africa was one of eight countries to abstain when UN member countries voted overwhelmingly to adopt the Charter.

As president of the ANC, Luthuli continually framed apartheid as a crime against humanity and aligned the anti-apartheid struggle with emerging international Human Rights norms. He celebrated the significant domestic and international support for the 1952 Defiance Campaign���s fight for the democracy and ���fundamental human rights of freedom of speech, association and movement��� that would modernize South Africa. He declared the Freedom Charter, a landmark 1955 document that demanded freedom, justice, and material equity for all South Africans, ���a South African Declaration of Human Rights��� and a ���Magna Carta���a Bill of Human Rights.���

Luthuli���s international non-violence included his 1958 call for a global boycott of all South African goods that helped develop early anti-apartheid movements in several countries���including Ireland, Great Britain, Scandinavia, the Netherlands, India, the US,��and Ghana. Inspired by this appeal, global anti-apartheid activists later coordinated closely with the South African domestic struggle and with the exiled ANC, broadening the terrain for sanctions beyond economics to other sectors like sport, culture, and higher education. Against views that economic sanctions would be counterproductive because they would mostly��hurt economically vulnerable black South Africans, Luthuli argued soberly that if the economic boycott was the ���method which shortens the day of blood, the suffering to us will be a price we are willing to pay.���

Luthuli��became the first African-born recipient of the Nobel Peace Prize in recognition of his non-violent anti-apartheid and human rights activism. In fact, he was the first Nobel winner after the committee had explicitly added human rights as one criterion for winning the Prize.��The Nobel Committee���s award exemplified international recognition and support for the anti-apartheid struggle as a fundamental human rights issue. In his acceptance speech,��Luthuli emphasized that apartheid was the antithesis of ���humanity���s highest aspirations of which the United Nations Declaration of Human Rights is a culmination. This is what we stand for. This is what we fight for.���

As MK engaged in its sabotage campaigns, Luthuli coordinated anti-apartheid protests with the American anti-colonial and anti-apartheid organization, the American Committee on Africa (ACOA) and the UN Special Committee Against Apartheid, calling for weapon embargoes and trade boycotts particularly by Britain, South Africa���s largest trading partner. With the death penalty looming for those MK activists charged with sabotage at the 1964��Rivonia��trial, Luthuli implored British diplomats and the UN Secretary-General to ���save the lives of the nine . . . [ANC] leaders.��� Luthuli praised their ���spirit of militancy��� which embodied ���the highest in morality and ethics.�����It was���not easy to pursue ���justice by the use of violent methods,��� but the ���uncompromising white refusal to��� ensure ���freedom��� for ���the African and other oppressed��� pushed them in this direction.

King supported Luthuli���s international non-violence work. En route to his 1964 Oslo ceremony, King stopped in London to give an ���Address on South African Independence.��� King connected the global color line from America to apartheid: ���Clearly there is much in Mississippi and Alabama to remind South Africans of their own country.��� He identified ���with those in the far more��deadly struggle��� who ���strove for half a century to win… by non-violent methods��� before ���the shootings of Sharpeville and all that has happened since.�����Moyn��claims King only placed ���civil rights in a global frame in the last year of his life��� he occasionally invoked human rights as well.��� But��accepting his 1964 Nobel Peace Prize, King praised Luthuli, ���pilot in the struggle for human rights… [who] met with the most brutal expression of man���s inhumanity to man.������ Years earlier,��in a July 1957 joint statement, ���Declaration of Conscience��� King declared his support for South Africans ���to achieve basic human rights for all as proclaimed in their ���Freedom Charter.’�����King and other US civil rights activists also raised money for the��legal defense��for Luthuli and the other 154 defendants during the five-year Treason Trial. By July��1962, King��and Luthuli issued the ���Appeal For Action Against Apartheid,�����calling for the world to support economic sanctions, trade boycotts and ���an effective international quarantine of apartheid�����until South Africa aligned its policies to the UN Declaration of Human Rights. On December 10, 1965, International Human Rights Day, flanked by South African exiles the singer Miriam��Makeba��and ANC leader Robert��Resha, King made his most comprehensive speech against South Africa, entitled ���Let My People Go,��� a nod to the African American spiritual and the title of Luthuli���s autobiography. He declared, ���the issue of human rights is the central question confronting all nations,��� but in reviving ���the nightmarish ideology and practices of Nazism,��� South Africa was ���this formidable adversary of human rights.��� Moving beyond rigid dichotomies of violence and non-violence reveal lesser-known Human Rights and international non-violence struggles that linked US Civil Rights and the South African anti-apartheid movements in the joined battle against transnational white supremacy.

Voltamos a Africa? The options for Black Brazil in the time of Bolsonaro

Even with the contradictory and violent policies of many African contexts, is emigration to the continent from toxic, racist, rightwing Brazil a viable option for Afro-Brazilians?





Image credit Secretaria Especial da Cultura de Brasil via Flickr (Creative Commons).

In early October 2018,��just after the first��round of voting in Brazil,��I got a message from a comrade in Salvador, Bahia. He��wrote:

How do you��think that we here in Brasil can organize a real program of repatriation to Kenya? You think that is possible? We are here very close to living under a president that is racist and fascist. You believe that we here can move a serious project to Africa, or even a refugee program?

Since I had not spoken to this friend in a while, I was surprised to get this message. But in view of recent events in Brazil���the coup against��President��Dilma��Rousseff (she was impeached and then removed from office on flimsy grounds), the imprisonment of��her predecessor,��Lula��(to prevent him from running for president again), the��still unresolved��murders of��indigenous��and��black��activists,��including��former congresswoman��Marielle Franco���perhaps I should not have been.��

I had known this��comrade���let’s call him Zumbi���since I was first in Brazil in 2006. Having��intentionally�����escaped��� the��privileged position of being a��recently graduated��international student in Canada, I went to Bahia��for reasons that are still not��always��quite clear to me now��(and is also a tale I rarely tell). Inevitably, these motives��then became a mixture of every possible clich�� you have heard about why people go to Brazil. At different points��it was��lessons in Afro-Brazilian culture, ���escaping Babylon,��� left wing politics, tumultuous and tempestuous romance��(of a scale rivaled by no other country��in the world), deluded hippie aspirations��and��young and dumb��twenty-something lessons in��unbridled surrender. Yet, even against the transience of these motivations,��there was always something immaterial and raw that turned��my head, my heart, my whole body, towards an ancestral sentience��in Bahia��that I am grateful to have felt and continue trying to understand.

But��I was not deluded by the ���racial paradise��� narrative��that persisted and��still��persists;��my African passport��and places of residence��made sure of that��(also is it just me who feels that white supremacy in Latin America is another level of vitriolic?).��And��so��it was in these movements��living in Salvador and trying��to understand��Africa��in Brazil��that I��first��met��Zumbi,��an Afro-Brazilian educator, historian and writer.

Twelve��years after our first conversations about Africa and Brazil and the exchanges��and ���returns�����needed,��and��against the backdrop of a possible Bolsonaro win, he was writing to me asking��if and how he could come back ���home.���

In his next message this was more explicit:��

Yes sister, so we will begin to organize ourselves for a reconnaissance visit. There are two points I want you to think about with us: 1) A repatriation program for 5-10 families who can live and work in Kenya (and this is a project to develop in 5-7 years); 2) An urgent refugee program, in case it is necessary��next year,��for some of us that shall eventually need this kind of support. It��is just a calling to think together. We are really concerned about the terrible things happening these days, and��it��can really be worse if this wannabe Trump is elected.

Unfortunately, this�����wannabe Trump�����was elected, and��so Zumbi���s��final message to me in late October��was:�����and so we elected a nazi fascist president.�����These words were��accompanied by��an image in which Brazil���s national territory and flag are overlaid with a Nazi flag.

Zumbi is not alone: since��the final round of elections that consolidated Bolsonaro���s win,��my people��in Brazil��have been trying to come��to terms with��their situation. This is not to��say that previous years have been easy and ���fascism��� is only a thing of the present; with one of the highest LGBT��murder rates��in the world, the��enduring��police��occupation of favela��(i.e.�����slum���)��communities��and��the high rates of incarceration of, predominantly, black youth,��the struggle has always been real.��

Yet, it seems to many that things, in the time of Bolsonaro (and his degenerate kin proliferating in other parts of the globe), are really getting worse.��Though there��are and were��many concerns one could have with Lula and his party, Partido dos Trabalhadores��[the Workers�����Party], and Lula himself was not a saint (see, as but one example, Brazil���s��role in Haiti during his tenure),��there seemed,��then,��a spirit��that��continued��and��was��very��palpable, which��energized��many movements��to keep fighting. My recent conversations highlight that many of those��who have always been��animating��these struggles in their��communities are��in disbelief, are exhausted and are��expressing the desire��to��just��leave.��Though these feelings may be temporary, their weight in the present is profound.

Another��academic and activist��sister��in Sao Paulo,��who I��also��spoke��with recently,��conveyed the��fear��that��she and��her friends���mostly��black, female��and queer���felt in the streets,��the suffocation,��and how this was affecting her mental health��so much��so��that��she just wanted��to get away.

Mourning the killing of��much loved and celebrated��capoeira master,��Mestre Moa Do Katende,��by a Bolsonaro supporter��a few hours after the first��round��of voting on October 7��2018, others expressed that ���the 12 stab wounds that killed Moa Do��Katend����came from the mouth of Bolsonaro.�����

And the violence keeps coming from��Bolsonaro���s��mouth:��in��the first few hours of his presidency��Bolsonaro has already worked to reverse��landmark land gains that��indigenous and��black Quilombola��[maroon]��communities��had��fought for��over many��years.��These are rights to��identify and set aside new areas for them, and,��likely informed by��Bolsonaro���s��wanting to conduct commercial mining and farming in indigenous reserves,��any��land claim decisions will now be adjudicated by the��Agriculture��Ministry��and not the��Ministry of��Justice.

Bolsonaro��has also pledged to end “Marxism��� in education,��with a��related��vision to��challenge the��racial��quotas��introduced by Lula��that, in a context of sinister structural racism, have enabled many Black Brazilians to go to university.��In one instance,��debating these quotas,��he��said, ���I never enslaved anyone”��and,��likely reading from��a��fake news��history book, ���the Portuguese would never step in Africa, it was the Africans who would deliver the enslaved.���

Our wannabe Trump��has, still in his first few days of office,��made the decision to move the��Brazilian embassy to Jerusalem��and��also plans to replace the human rights ministry with one focused on ���family values.���

When we last spoke I told Zumbi��that I was not quite sure that Kenya would��be��an alternative safe place, especially for a refugee program:��my country,��in many senses,��remains highly colonial and anti-African.

For sure Kenya has many merits, but it��continues to have a super problematic��bromance with Israel, even as it continues to deport Africans.��What���s more its��legacy of hosting refugees, despite the official narrative,��is not unscathed.��In addition, like Brazil, our police force continues to kill many young poor people, and��one tip of the��iceberg��survey��tallies at��least 803��people killed by the police between 2013���2016.

Naturally, I suggested Ghana and��Tanzania��since they have more progressive histories of recognizing��diasporans. But with��Magufuli��wanting to keep��pregnant��schoolgirls��out of school,��and his authoritarian ways, maybe��Tanzania��is��not such a good idea.��Although,��,��I��was not even going to��say anything about Museveni���s Uganda.��Things were not looking good for Zumbi���s refugee program.

All the same, recent events have shown that, even with the contradictory and violent policies of many African contexts, it just��may be the right time��for Afro-Brazilians to ���voltar��a��Africa.���

Voltamos a Africa? Black Brazil in the time of Bolsonaro

Even with the contradictory and violent policies of many African contexts, is emigration to the continent from toxic, racist, rightwing Brazil a viable option for Afro-Brazilians?





Image credit Secretaria Especial da Cultura de Brasil via Flickr (Creative Commons).

In early October 2018,��just after the first��round of voting in Brazil,��I got a message from a comrade in Salvador, Bahia. He��wrote:

How do you��think that we here in Brasil can organize a real program of repatriation to Kenya? You think that is possible? We are here very close to living under a president that is racist and fascist. You believe that we here can move a serious project to Africa, or even a refugee program?

Since I had not spoken to this friend in a while, I was surprised to get this message. But in view of recent events in Brazil���the coup against��President��Dilma��Rousseff (she was impeached and then removed from office on flimsy grounds), the imprisonment of��her predecessor,��Lula��(to prevent him from running for president again), the��still unresolved��murders of��indigenous��and��black��activists,��including��former congresswoman��Marielle Franco���perhaps I should not have been.��

I had known this��comrade���let’s call him Zumbi���since I was first in Brazil in 2006. Having��intentionally�����escaped��� the��privileged position of being a��recently graduated��international student in Canada, I went to Bahia��for reasons that are still not��always��quite clear to me now��(and is also a tale I rarely tell). Inevitably, these motives��then became a mixture of every possible clich�� you have heard about why people go to Brazil. At different points��it was��lessons in Afro-Brazilian culture, ���escaping Babylon,��� left wing politics, tumultuous and tempestuous romance��(of a scale rivaled by no other country��in the world), deluded hippie aspirations��and��young and dumb��twenty-something lessons in��unbridled surrender. Yet, even against the transience of these motivations,��there was always something immaterial and raw that turned��my head, my heart, my whole body, towards an ancestral sentience��in Bahia��that I am grateful to have felt and continue trying to understand.

But��I was not deluded by the ���racial paradise��� narrative��that persisted and��still��persists;��my African passport��and places of residence��made sure of that��(also is it just me who feels that white supremacy in Latin America is another level of vitriolic?).��And��so��it was in these movements��living in Salvador and trying��to understand��Africa��in Brazil��that I��first��met��Zumbi,��an Afro-Brazilian educator, historian and writer.

Twelve��years after our first conversations about Africa and Brazil and the exchanges��and ���returns�����needed,��and��against the backdrop of a possible Bolsonaro win, he was writing to me asking��if and how he could come back ���home.���

In his next message this was more explicit:��

Yes sister, so we will begin to organize ourselves for a reconnaissance visit. There are two points I want you to think about with us: 1) A repatriation program for 5-10 families who can live and work in Kenya (and this is a project to develop in 5-7 years); 2) An urgent refugee program, in case it is necessary��next year,��for some of us that shall eventually need this kind of support. It��is just a calling to think together. We are really concerned about the terrible things happening these days, and��it��can really be worse if this wannabe Trump is elected.

Unfortunately, this�����wannabe Trump�����was elected, and��so Zumbi���s��final message to me in late October��was:�����and so we elected a nazi fascist president.�����These words were��accompanied by��an image in which Brazil���s national territory and flag are overlaid with a Nazi flag.

Zumbi is not alone: since��the final round of elections that consolidated Bolsonaro���s win,��my people��in Brazil��have been trying to come��to terms with��their situation. This is not to��say that previous years have been easy and ���fascism��� is only a thing of the present; with one of the highest LGBT��murder rates��in the world, the��enduring��police��occupation of favela��(i.e.�����slum���)��communities��and��the high rates of incarceration of, predominantly, black youth,��the struggle has always been real.��

Yet, it seems to many that things, in the time of Bolsonaro (and his degenerate kin proliferating in other parts of the globe), are really getting worse.��Though there��are and were��many concerns one could have with Lula and his party, Partido dos Trabalhadores��[the Workers�����Party], and Lula himself was not a saint (see, as but one example, Brazil���s��role in Haiti during his tenure),��there seemed,��then,��a spirit��that��continued��and��was��very��palpable, which��energized��many movements��to keep fighting. My recent conversations highlight that many of those��who have always been��animating��these struggles in their��communities are��in disbelief, are exhausted and are��expressing the desire��to��just��leave.��Though these feelings may be temporary, their weight in the present is profound.

Another��academic and activist��sister��in Sao Paulo,��who I��also��spoke��with recently,��conveyed the��fear��that��she and��her friends���mostly��black, female��and queer���felt in the streets,��the suffocation,��and how this was affecting her mental health��so much��so��that��she just wanted��to get away.

Mourning the killing of��much loved and celebrated��capoeira master,��Mestre Moa Do Katende,��by a Bolsonaro supporter��a few hours after the first��round��of voting on October 7��2018, others expressed that ���the 12 stab wounds that killed Moa Do��Katend����came from the mouth of Bolsonaro.�����

And the violence keeps coming from��Bolsonaro���s��mouth:��in��the first few hours of his presidency��Bolsonaro has already worked to reverse��landmark land gains that��indigenous and��black Quilombola��[maroon]��communities��had��fought for��over many��years.��These are rights to��identify and set aside new areas for them, and,��likely informed by��Bolsonaro���s��wanting to conduct commercial mining and farming in indigenous reserves,��any��land claim decisions will now be adjudicated by the��Agriculture��Ministry��and not the��Ministry of��Justice.

Bolsonaro��has also pledged to end “Marxism��� in education,��with a��related��vision to��challenge the��racial��quotas��introduced by Lula��that, in a context of sinister structural racism, have enabled many Black Brazilians to go to university.��In one instance,��debating these quotas,��he��said, ���I never enslaved anyone”��and,��likely reading from��a��fake news��history book, ���the Portuguese would never step in Africa, it was the Africans who would deliver the enslaved.���

Our wannabe Trump��has, still in his first few days of office,��made the decision to move the��Brazilian embassy to Jerusalem��and��also plans to replace the human rights ministry with one focused on ���family values.���

When we last spoke I told Zumbi��that I was not quite sure that Kenya would��be��an alternative safe place, especially for a refugee program:��my country,��in many senses,��remains highly colonial and anti-African.

For sure Kenya has many merits, but it��continues to have a super problematic��bromance with Israel, even as it continues to deport Africans.��What���s more its��legacy of hosting refugees, despite the official narrative,��is not unscathed.��In addition, like Brazil, our police force continues to kill many young poor people, and��one tip of the��iceberg��survey��tallies at��least 803��people killed by the police between 2013���2016.

Naturally, I suggested Ghana and��Tanzania��since they have more progressive histories of recognizing��diasporans. But with��Magufuli��wanting to keep��pregnant��schoolgirls��out of school,��and his authoritarian ways, maybe��Tanzania��is��not such a good idea.��Although,��,��I��was not even going to��say anything about Museveni���s Uganda.��Things were not looking good for Zumbi���s refugee program.

All the same, recent events have shown that, even with the contradictory and violent policies of many African contexts, it just��may be the right time��for Afro-Brazilians to ���voltar��a��Africa.���

The Congo finally witnesses political change, but how meaningful will it be?

It's the first time an African president appears to have rigged an election, not in favor of his hand-picked successor, but in favor of an opposition politician.





Voting Bureau in Mbuji Mayi. Image credit Myriam Asmani via MONUSCO Flickr.

At 3am on January 10th��after yet another ���glissement�����(a��polemical term deployed in Congo to describe the many postponements that have marked the DRC electoral process, which originally��was supposed to take place in December 2016),��something historic happened in the Democratic Republic of Congo. F��lix Antoine Tshisekedi��Tshilombo, the son of long-time opposition leader Etienne Tshisekedi,��and leader of the Congolese opposition party UDPS,��was declared winner of the Congolese presidential election by Congo���s electoral��commission (CENI), marking the first peaceful transfer of power in the country���s history since��its��independence in 1960.

But this is not the only reason why CENI���s announcement��is��historic. Tshisekedi���s (surprise)-victory also marks the first-time an African president appears to have��rigged an election, not in��favor��of his hand-picked successor (the��widely unknown PPRD politician��Emmanuel Shadary), but in��favor��of an opposition politician.

Martin��Fayulu, another��long-time opposition politician, and��candidate of the coalition LAMUKA��(supported by exiled Kabila adversaries Jean-Pierre Bemba and��Mo��se��Katumbias��well as an ensemble of��other political parties), led��most��opinion polls prior to the election. More importantly, the��Conf��rence��Nationale����piscopale��du Congo (CENCO),��indicated to diplomats after the election��that��Fayulu was the clear winner��according to its parallel vote count��compiled from��over 70% of��all��voting stations.��It mattered,��as CENCO, the most important organization of the Catholic Church in the country (more than half of all Congolese identify as Catholic),��had the largest accredited election observer mission throughout the country and is widely respected��for its political independence.��Though polling data should always be treated with caution, especially in a country like the DRC, Pierre��Engelbert���s��detailed analysis��of prior polling data highlighted that Tshisekedi���s victory was statistically improbable��(to say the least).

In the lead-up to CENI���s announcement several more��or��less plausible��rumors��started swirling around��Kinshasa that Kabila and Tshisekedi struck a power-sharing agreement��that could��make Tshisekedi president.��The precise terms and robustness of this arrangement remain unknown, and have been subject to��much speculation both nationally, and internationally.

Litsani��Choukran, editor-in chief of Politico.CD, one of the most vibrant Congolese media sites��that is��widely-respected for its political independence,��hinted��that a deal was finalized on the night of January the 8th. More importantly��Choukran��argued that from��Kabila���s perspective,��a negotiated Tshisekedi victory would still allow his ruling coalition��(FCC)�����to dominate the political scene,��� while also being able��to informally remain in control of the DRC���s��powerful and influential armed forces.��Unsurprisingly,��according to this reading of events, CENI not only announced Tshisekedi���s victory,��but��simultaneously��announced��that Kabila���s ruling FCC coalition would control��22 out of 26��provincial legislatures.��A few days later, CENI��also��announced that��Kabila���s FCC��would control 70% of the national parliament (without taking into account the��15 MPs from the excluded districts of Beni,��Butembo��and Yumbi). Though the FCC has��fielded more candidates and spent more money on campaigning��than other coalitions, it���s hard to imagine a scenario in which 73.7% of voters could reject the FCC presidential candidate, while simultaneously voting for a 70% FCC-controlled parliament. Given that Tshisekedi���s victory is predicated on the legitimacy of the electoral commission, it is unlikely that his coalition (CACH), which according to CENI actually��lost��parliamentary seats��vis-��-vis the 2011 elections (!), will contest the results.

Fayulu��filed a complaint with the constitutional court to contest the outcome, but given that the court is��stacked with Kabila loyalists, it is unlikely that the complaint will get a fair hearing. The European Union and the South African Development Community��(SADC)��have urged CENI to publish results by voting station to ���render the process more transparent,��� but as��Choukran��recently��tweeted, the international community, as well as regional brokers, tend to prioritize stability over democracy. The Congolese opposition���s inability to confront the Kabila regime and its manipulation in a united fashion will likely rob the Congolese people of any prospect for systemic change. An opposition agreement brokered in Geneva on November 11th, in which opposition elites pledged to support a common candidate for the presidency, lasted a mere 24 hours (!) before Tshisekedi and his running-mate Vital��Kamerhe dropped out.

Yet, as��Jason Stearns��from the Congo Research Institute, and many��other Congo observers stress, it is important to��underline��that the announcement of Tshisekedi as winner of the presidential elections did not constitute Kabila���s Plan A. Kabila���s multiple attempts at altering��the constitution were repeatedly thwarted by heroic activism, popular mobilization, and civil disobedience. The Catholic Church, as well as a range of civil society organizations (especially��Lucha��and��Filimbi), spearheaded��this popular resistance, which prevented the same��constitutional changes recently witnessed in��neighboring��countries��that allowed��Pierre Nkurunziza��in��Burundi,��and��Dennis��Sassou-Ngessou��in the��Republic of Congo to remain in power.

Many Congolese paid the��highest��price for these elections. Luc��Nkula��(aged 33), Rossy Mukendi��(aged 36), and��Dechade��Kapangala��(aged 24)��are just a few��names on��a long list of mostly young activists��who��sacrificed their lives��for��the possibility��of free and fair elections and political change��in the DRC.

The election process itself, which��was��pushed back from��its initial date of��23��December��2018 to��the��30th��(of course there had to be another ���glissement���),��was riddled with irregularities and organizational failures. The��cities of Beni,��Butembo, and��Yumbi,��widely considered��to be strongholds of��Fayulu, were excluded from the vote��allegedly��due to risks associated with the Ebola outbreak in the region.��Yet, a��couple of days prior to this announcement, the Congolese Health��Minister��indicated��that��he��saw��no reason as to why Ebola should complicate��or frustrate the vote. In a��powerful and symbolic��act of defiance, Beni��still organized its own presidential elections, which according to some observers, were better organized, and more transparent than the actual elections.

Throughout the rest of the country, malfunctioning��or��missing voting machines��(544 in total), and missing voter tallies prevented many Congolese from voting, as many voting stations did not open��on time (some as late as 6pm) (see Timo Mueller���s detailed��thread��documenting a range of voting irregularities).

Despite this, Congolese voters remained��undeterred and��mobilized, and it was clear early on that a proclaimed victory of Kabila���s successor would��be received as highly illegitimate both nationally, and by��the international community.��Thus,��Kabila turned to the strategy, which has enabled him to unconstitutionally remain in power for the last two years:�����keep quiet, buy time to divide and co-opt part of the opposition.���

Like��other African governments��(in 2016 alone��the internet��was shut down 54 times in 27 African countries), the Congolese government felt threatened by social media scrutiny, as unverified electoral results showing opposition victories were posted from voting stations all over the country.��The��internet remained shut down��on New Year���s Eve, and although some Congolese��found��loopholes��to the shutdown,��the social,��humanitarian, and economic costs of the shutdown kept��mounting.

But where��will this��unprecedented conundrum of an electoral crisis��leave the DRC?��As the last 3 years of Congolese political rollercoaster have displayed, almost everything is contingent, as many��actors��� objectives,��agendas, and power relations can��evolve��quickly.

It is hard to predict the prospects of a Tshisekedi��presidency��without knowing the terms��and robustness��of his agreement with Kabila.��Some questions to consider are: To what extent does he have a defined project for the country���s future? How adept is he at navigating the DRC���s��political economy, which��is��characterized by constantly shifting political��alliances, and networks of resource extraction? How cohesive��will��Kabila���s FCC coalition��be��after Kabila���s presidency has ended?��What role will Kabila play, given that as an ex-president he will also be senator for life?

The greatest hope for the DRC���s future��stems��from movements such as��Lucha��or��Filimbi, who consistently encourage��the��Congolese to reject la politique du fait accompli��and confront��mediocrity in all its forms (and from all political��parties, including the opposition). This is important because the��DRC���s challenges are tied to-but go way beyond-Joseph Kabila:��Over 75%��of the DRC���s population lives��in extreme poverty,��4.5 million��are internally displaced,��and��there are���120 armed groups in the two eastern Kivu provinces alone.

What Congolese people finally deserve is systemic change, and��accountable political leaders, whose main objectives are��to increase the standard of living and quality of life of their constituents.��Unfortunately, this��prospect��appears��as distant as ever, but I pray that Felix Tshisekedi will prove me wrong.

Social media, repression and the crisis in Cameroon

Despite consistent and protracted attempts by government to repress access to social media and freedom of expression, citizen's voices are bing heard over the internet in Cameroon.





Image from #FreeMimiMefo social media campaign via Twitter.

In 2008, anti-government riots sparked by anger over exorbitant fuel costs,��President Paul��Biya���s��bid to extent his 25-year rule and a rise in food prices��took hold of Cameroon.�����The food riots,�����as��the��protests��later became known��started��in the port city of Douala, eventually spreading��to the capital Yaound�� and several other cities across the country.

The��government���s��response to this week of unrest was violent.��Reports reveal that police shut down the protests by making dozens of arrests, beating some participants with rifle butts and murdering scores of protestors. Government officials instructed state media and��hospital staff not to publicize these deaths.��However, the evidence that might prove the government���s heavy-handed response remains stifled��to date.

Ten��years later, there is another simmering crisis in the North West and South West regions of the country, sparked���again���by discontent and protests against��Biya���s��government. But��now��there is no hiding place for those who perpetrate atrocities. In the age of social media, ordinary Cameroonian civilians are able to take to Twitter and��Facebook��to voice their disquiet and demand that the world engage with their country���s plight.��

Throughout 2018, a steady stream of shocking and distressing clips from Cameroon have appeared on social media, showing villages being burned to the ground, property destroyed, and civilians being tortured or killed.��A simple Twitter search of the word “Cameroon” reveals multiple posts��by numerous individuals,��all claiming to show the results of indiscriminate government brutality in the country.

These graphic and sickening images are accompanied by comments from civilians, calling upon the regional and international community to take heed of the ongoing�����genocide�����in Anglophone Cameroon. Those posting videos and images are not afraid to share eye-witness testimonials with the world���even though this means speaking out against��those in power.

While the Cameroonian government has refuted accusations made on social media, arguing for example��that the army uniform worn by perpetrators could have been stolen by separatists in order to pose as troops,��the BBC��and other reporting bodies have used a variety of open source tools to debunk online speculation and verify facts. Combined with freely shared eye-witness accounts of brutality, Cameroon���s government is under increasing pressure as the inescapable evidence emerges��to an international audience of billions.

Social media platforms are allowing the current crisis in Cameroon to be published in real time, by eyewitnesses, rather than being reported after the fact, by third parties. This use of the internet is beyond the government���s control��and��finally a voice has been given to the voiceless.��The��government can do little to silence them,��and is finding it harder to��manipulate the��wider��media��landscape to��shape��narratives��in its own interest. Today, the nature and volume of social media posts, the sharing of similar information and active citizen reporting is impossible to dismiss or ignore.

Several recent online campaigns have harnessed the power of social media in Cameroon, bringing civilians together as one voice,��and��mobilizing support from international communities to agitate for change:

#freemimimefo��saw Twitter users spreading the word about the plight of Mimi��Mefo, a Cameroonian lawyer arrested for�����spreading fake news,�����after tweeting information about the killing of an American missionary in the country���s Anglophone region. This action was a clear threat to free speech, and saw both��Mefo���s��fellow journalists and ordinary citizens taking to smart devices to campaign for her release.
The Bishop of��Mamfe, Andrew��Nkea, accused government troops of killing Kenyan missionary, Father Cosmos��Omboro��Ondari, after firing shots at random into a church where he had been��holding��evening mass. Though the government issued a denial, the eye-witness report��shared widely online served as proof of what truly happened.
#FreemicheleNdoki, began after the arrest of Michele��Ndoki, a Cameroonian lawyer who helped to expose vote rigging on a massive scale during the country���s recent election. This��saw Twitter users protesting the suppression of evidence that implicated the government and the repression of an individual who challenged corruption.
#FreeAllArrested, #AnglophoneCrisis,��#Etoudi2018��and many other campaigns have served as online avenues for Cameroonians to reveal to the world, first-hand, their frustrations and discontent with a regime that has undermined democracy for 36 years. They continue to be used as rallying crucibles for online advocacy and dissemination.��

It���s little surprise, then, that the Cameroonian government��has��made no secret of��its��distrust of, and distaste for social media.��In��������2016��an official statement was issued that labelled social media�����a new form of terrorism,�����also suggesting that sites like Twitter and��Facebook��had created�����a social pandemic, perpetuated by amateurs, whose ranks continue to swell and who do not have a sense of etiquette and decorum.���

Social media does, of course, have some credibility issues and is notorious worldwide as a purveyor of fake news stories, hoaxes and misinformation. There are also those who take to online platforms to promote hate speech and propaganda, with sites having little control over provenance and authenticity of information.�����Still, throughout Cameroon, increasingly, local groups, advocates and technology hubs have taken responsibility for addressing these issues���providing training, education and empowerment for social media users so that platforms are used more responsibly (and the government isn’t able to justify their campaign of antagonism.)��Notable examples are��Nina��Forgwe���s��work��on hate speech��with��Peacetech��Labs,��Julie��Owono���s��contributions��as Executive Director��of Internet Sans Frontiers��and CEO of��AppsTech��Rebecca��Enonchong���s��training and support.

The response of��Biya���s��government��suggests that��it is��running scared from a rising tide of��citizen criticism.��This administration���s history of suppressing online access��and��to segregate and control its population is legendary. Blackouts and disruptions have��occurred��on several occasions, often for prolonged periods.��For example, in the run-up to the 2018 presidential elections, multiple internet blackouts occurred in Anglophone Cameroon, placing severe restrictions on freedom of expression.��Shutting��down the internet has also had devastating and widespread economic and social effects on citizens in affected areas.��In June 2018, the��gendarmerie in Cameroon also banned officers from using mobile phones or social networks such as��WhatsApp,��Facebook��and Twitter without permission.

However, access to the internet in Cameroon is growing��and its 24 million��inhabitants��are among Africa���s most vocal when it comes to using online and mobile platforms to hold government accountable and call for reform.��Young people in particular will, no doubt, be using it more, not less.

On safari

Happy new year!





The New Year Carnival in Cape Town. Image credit George Bayliss via Flickr.

This was a big one for us here at Africa is a Country. On January 22nd, I wrote: ���The plan was to come back in the new year with the launch of our a newly designed website.��This new site will be the first public manifestation of our partnership��with the Jacobin Foundation. We tried to hold back the date we start publishing again until the new site was finished, but some technical glitches with the launch meant that we can���t wait any longer. All things equal, we should have a new website within the next couple of weeks.��� It would take another four months when we debuted the new design.

You can go read that post again,��here. It stands as a kind of manifesto for how we have approached our work for a while.

The new site finally launched in May. We now had new clothes. In the post announcing the change managing editor, Boima Tucker, and I wrote:

The title of the project, when Sean started it in 2009, signaled our rejection of familiar myths and tropes that continue to frame discourse about the continent.��Africa Is a Country��wanted to challenge, reclaim and reframe these media images and debates with a powerful, self-confident and unashamedly African perspective. It wanted to also be irreverent and playful. We hope to continue translating scholarly debates and high-level political and cultural analyses into accessible language.

This was also the year when we promoted Oumar Ba, on the faculty of Morehouse College in Atlanta, to the editorial board, and introduced a host of new contributing editors: Anakwa Dwamena, Benjamin Fogel, Samar Al-Bulushi, Lina Benabdullah, Maria Hengeveld, George Kibala Bauer, Sarah El-Shaarawi and Noah Tsika.

Finally, we added one more copy editor, Kangsen Wakai, a Cameroonian writer. He joins Andrea Meeson who has been with us for a while. Together with Boima, and myself, we think we have a good handle on things.

The final word goes to one of our readers, who opined on our Facebook page:

If you want to understand more about world, its cultures and politics, the effect far off places have on you and you on far off places, this is a great source of information. If not, you’re probably not very interesting.

We published a lot of posts this year. To catch up on the big themes, here are the ten most popular posts from a year that featured a World Cup, a worldwide resurgence of White Supremacy and a live action manifestation of Wakanda (our top ten was almost exclusively made up of these three topics so we added just the top post from each):

Fear of a Black France��(from our World Cup series)
I have a problem with Black Panther��(from our�� Black Panther series)
Searching for white genocide in South Africa��(on worldwide white supremacy)
Sergio Ramos and the Egyptians
When Tiffany Haddish went to Eritrea
Being Coloured and Indian in South Africa after Apartheid
The New South Africa’s original state capture
Dambisa Moyo is wrong about the global economy���here���s why
The Afghanistan-ization of Africa
Sex crimes, evangelism and the collective guilt of American intervention in Africa

Happy new year!

Mahmood Mamdani on Marxist intellectual Samir Amin

Samir Amin's life resembled that of Karl Marx: a man without a homeland, but one whose home was a chosen commitment to a historical project.





Samir Amin. Image via Fraktion Die Linke Flickr.

In June 2010,��Mahmood��Mamdani��was appointed Director��of the��Makerere��Institute for Social Research��(MISR)��in Kampala, Uganda, which he since developed into what is arguably the premier center for graduate education in the social sciences and the humanities on the continent.��On December 1, 2018, at��the Annual Meeting of the African Studies Association��in Atlanta, Georgia,��Mamdani��delivered the��Hormood��Lecture. His theme was�����Decolonization and higher education: the experience of��Makerere��Institute of Social Research.�����Parts���on the history of intellectual debates over the nature of the African university���of��Mamdani���s��lecture have appeared in��this London Review of Books��article. A major influence on��Mamdani���s��mission for MISR was the late Samir Amin, the Egyptian intellectual who passed away in August 12, 2018. Soon after Amin passed, we published��a post��by Max��Ajl��on��Amin’s contributions to historical social science���and revolutionary theory.��Ajl��concluded that Amin���s contributions��span an almost mind-boggling breadth.��After hearing��Mamdani��remembering Amin, I approached him about publishing that section of his remarks on Africa is a country. He��obliged. ��� Sean Jacobs.

Another��source��of inspiration for��the��post-doctoral program at MISR was��CODESRIA.��The��Council for the Development of Social Research in Africa, was established in 1973. Its first director was Samir Amin. Samir died a few weeks ago. There has been an ongoing discussion of his life and��work in CODESRIA circles, but none so far as I can see at��the African Studies Association. The reason I think points to an important difference between ASA and CODESRIA. I will offer a few thoughts on this. Since I have been an active member of CODESRIA since 1975, and since CODESRIA was an important influence on MISR, I would like to say a few words in appreciation of its founder, Samir Amin. I will confine myself to his intellectual work.

Samir���s doctoral thesis, the multi-volume��Accumulation on a World Scale, was written on a vast canvass. It presented an ambitious outline agenda, one that Samir spent a life time filling and fulfilling. Samir was hugely prolific. Among his writings, there were two which came closest to taking up the challenge formulated in his doctoral thesis. The first was��Eurocentrism��and the second��Unequal Development.

I have taught��Eurocentrism��at least ten times over the past two��decades. Every time, I am amazed at the world historical grasp that informed its author. Samir was more a man of history than a��man��who we could identify with a particular place. The places that most come to mind are Cairo, Dakar and Paris. Even if Samir moved between them, he was a moving target, a man of no fixed abode. His life resembled that of Marx, a man without a homeland, but one whose home was a chosen commitment to a historical project. Like Marx, Samir was a man of a fixed time, the��modern. I remember being struck by Samir���s critique of Edward Said���s politically important work,��Orientalism. Samir objected to what he considered a trans-historical critique. He argued that rather than present us with an ahistorical discourse of Western culture, as if��it were timeless, Edward should have given us a critique of the modern Western discourse on the Orient. I believe Samir was the first to formulate this critique, which has since been repeated over and again by many others.

Even though he thought of his��own writing as grounded in Marxism, Samir is best known for his works on dependency theory. He introduced an entire generation of young scholars, myself included, to think of under-development in historical terms. The work I found truly compelling was��Unequal Development, and its companion volume,��De-connexion. One gave a historical account of the present, the other charted a way forward.

As Marx never tired of repeating, the test of theory lies in practice. I recall Samir telling us of when he received a��call from Thomas��Sankara��asking him to travel urgently to Burkina Faso to discuss a challenge. On arrival, Samir was told by��Sankara: ���You have told us that we must have the courage to de-connect. Before we could gather that courage, the French have taken the lead and de-connected us. What shall we do?��� Samir was flummoxed. He admitted to us: ���I had not imagined that the question of de-connection would first arise in a country as poor as Burkina Faso.��� It seemed to illustrate a practical dilemma: whereas prescriptive formulas���as short and succinct as “de-connexion”���seemed to apply to one and all without discrimination or difference, each case is in practice different and so are the consequences of the application. It seemed to raise a problem similar to that faced by the Russian Revolution: how was one to achieve “socialism in a single country,” in this case “de-connexion��of a single country”?

I thought the story pointed to a broader issue. The objective claims of structuralism appear less convincing when bathed in a historical perspective. Historical specificity begins to distinguish one case from another. Although I never had an opportunity to discuss this with Samir, I thought the history of the past few decades raised a central question for dependency theory, and its conclusion that there can be no “development” in the context of an imperialist-dominated world. What does the emergence of China as the new economic challenge to the only super-power, the United States, say about the claims of dependency theory? And what about the emergence of others, such as India and Brazil, all with a colonial past and without a socialist present?

The debate over CODESRIA���s overwhelming theoretical orientation to political economy and policy preference for a state-led growth model came to a head at the 1984 General Assembly. It led to the initiation of a new multi-national research group on social movements and democracy.

Samir walked on two legs, to��use a Maoist phrase, constantly moving from theory to practice and back. The political economist in him was constantly put to task by his continuing engagement in real life politics. I thought his most difficult moment came with the Arab Spring in Egypt. We disagreed on political Islam several times. The first was decades ago at a CODESRIA working group on the gender question. I recall Samir being firmly and totally opposed to political Islam of every hue. He gave his reasons: he said political Islam was socially regressive on the gender question, and its laissez faire economic thought went no further than philanthropy. The debate resurfaced at the 1991 Symposium on Academic Freedom in Kampala, except this time as a��debate on democracy. How were we to think��of the past century of state-enforced secularism against the reality of ethnic and religious mobilizations in society?

Samir was single-minded, a man with conviction, focus and determination. He wanted clear sight of the enemy and a clear choice between��alternatives. But the Arab Spring gave no such easy alternative. The alternative it did pose was between a military-led secularism and a Muslim Brothers-led parliamentary democracy. The single-minded pursuit of secularism led to a military coup. The debate, which had been rife in CODESRIA for over a quarter century, flared up once again at the last General Assembly.

Political Islam is today divided between two major tendencies: both are socially reactionary and economically free market-oriented. The difference between them is political: one tendency���illustrated by��Daesh��and al Qaeda, and supported by Saudi Arabia and the Emirates, with the US fully complicit���calls for a top down armed struggle. The other champions a parliamentary road. More of a bottom-up approach, it reflects the actual historical experience of Turkey and Iran. The stakes are becoming clearer as global consequences of the Saudi-led Wahhabi mobilization against Muslim Brothers become evident.

Samir was a thinker and he was a public intellectual. This founding father of CODESRIA was determined that it must not become just another donor-funded collection of individual or small team researchers, indulgently watered like so many potted plants in green houses. CODESRIA, he was convinced, must remain open to sound and fury, wind and rain, storm and lightning. It must, above all, provide a home to discuss issues central to the future of African peoples. In the absence of a real African parliament, it must function like one. In contrast, ASA is��a professional organization, devoted above all to building careers and monitoring the terrain known as African Studies in the US. As the home of public intellectuals in Africa, and as a scholarly forum, CODESRIA does not limit its discussion to Africa. At a CODESRIA General Assembly, no part of the world is forbidden territory. Rather than focused on a place called Africa, the debate is thematically and issue driven, drawing on experiences from around the world.

One last word about Samir Amin. Samir came of intellectual age during an era when the battle was for independence. It was a time we understood independence in terms of state sovereignty and decolonization of the economy. But success along this road has posed new challenges: central among them is that of extreme violence. It calls on us to think of the underside of state sovereignty, but without letting go of the gains of independence. This challenge calls on us to broaden and deepen our understanding of political modernity and to critically think the notion of sovereignty at the heart of it���if we are to develop a richer and a deeper understanding of decolonization.

The gentrification of African studies

Displacing African Studies outside of Africa and emptying it of any transformative potential, obscures its revolutionary legacy and converts it into an impotent, banal field.





Image credit Mike Gibson via Flickr.

It is now routine for major conferences that focus on disseminating new research and findings on African cultures and societies to take place in Western countries such as the USA, England, or Germany. African Studies is the only academic field where its two most important conferences, the African Studies Association (ASA) annual meeting and the annual conference of the African Literature Association (ALA), are systematically held at North American venues, barring few exceptions. This reality has generated numerous difficulties for Africa-based academics and scholars who are now forced to��pay��exorbitant, non-refundable visa fees��in foreign currencies not always available to them��and struggle to secure international travel funding.��The resulting displacement and exclusion of continent-based Africanists have undermined the true purpose and identity of African studies;��a pathological process commonly identified as gentrification.

But exactly how can an academic field be gentrified? The term “gentrification” was coined by the Marxist sociologist Ruth Glass in 1964 to��examine��the forced displacement of working-class occupiers by middle-class residents���the gentry���in parts of inner London and the resulting changes in the social structure and housing markets. More recent definitions have broadened the denotation of the term to include neoliberal urban policies��that have supported the displacement, exclusion, and exploitation of the marginalized.

The description of the economic, demographic, commercial, cultural, and physical character of gentrification as ���neoliberal��� is fitting to our discussion of the fate of African Studies.��Without limiting it to a provocative analogy,��gentrification as a complex phenomenon demonstrates how the displacement and, at times, exclusion of continent-based Africanists reflect a disastrous process of gentrification similar to what has been taking place in��such��urban cities��as Brooklyn, London, and��Cape Town. Central to this issue��is an uneasy and uncomfortable��debate��over what Glass��calls “the social character” of a community:��that is��the ontological, ethical, and political rights of those who actually reside in the continent.��Bringing together of�����all individuals and��institutions��with a scholarly interest in Africa��� should not be promoted at the expense of the exclusion of Africa-based scholars.

The gentrification of African studies has altered the social character of its community and��generated a new set of problems such as��visa issues, academic hipsterism, and restricted access to critical research, which��risks to permanently exclude continent-based scholars,��undermine their crucial contributions, and eventually converts African studies into another impotent, banal field.

 

 

 

Displacement and the visa problem

Africa-based academics face insurmountable difficulties��to attend important African studies conferences, which are often held in western��capitals��of New York, London, or Berlin. These challenges include issues of air travel��funding and registration fees,��the��dreadful��process of visa application, and��the rise of��hostile��immigration policies, which made��it frequent for requests of academic visas to be denied.

The issue of visa denial has become��a standard exclusionary and discriminatory policy��for Africa-based academics.��After visa refusal in��UK��and USA,��the Canadian Association of African Studies (CAAS)��reported��that ���every year, African scholars are denied visas to travel to Canada. 10 individuals, from South Africa (1), Ethiopia (4), Cameroon (2), Nigeria (2),��and Togo (1) were refused visas��� to attend its 2018 annual conference.��Sakine��Ramat��Grena, a��Chadian��academic, spent��$600 CAD on a visa application��in 2016,��only to find later that��visa was refused on the grounds of insufficient funds.��Despite a little support for calls to relocate international African studies conferences, it is unlikely for these demands to materialize. As with the launching of new conferences such ASAUK, the trend is toward��organizing��more conventions in every major western capital.

The displacement of Africa-based��academics as a direct outcome��of visa denial can only further their isolation and exclusion. Attending these international conferences is not only about presenting and��discovering��others��� work but also, and most importantly, has its crucial value in��the opportunities��for in-person, formal,��and informal socialization��and networking.��To deny these prospects for continent-based scholars is to��exclude them from significant��opportunities��to make themselves heard and their work appreciated.

Black��corpus, white works cited

The desirability of African studies as a scientific and academic field of research and inquiry has expectedly attracted generations of new scholars from outside the continent��who have sought to study the continent���s social, political, and economic��issues. This results in shifting the content and form of��Africanist��academic��inquiry into what accommodates the tastes of a group of��researchers I call academic hipsters.��Because��of��the open and penetrable characteristics��of��African studies, they inhabit a complex space��since,��on the��one hand, they contribute to its��development��in new and��interesting��directions; on the��other hand,��they��shape��the trajectory of��African��studies as a result of��their��strong��institutional support and��abundance of available funding.��An obvious example of these hipster tastes is a neocolonial division of Africa into strange categories like sub-Saharan Africa, Maghreb, black Africa, etc. Moreover, the��unparalleled��quantity of their publications��determines the corpus to be analyzed and the methodology to be used. This��leaves Africa-based scholars struggling to find��valuable opportunities��to publish their work and��stressing��over issues of research excellence and employability.��The idea of reciprocity in terms of academic exchange and collaboration seems like a distant dream.

This��process��of��gentrifying��African studies calls��into attention��the shift toward an intellectual��hegemony that marginalizes the academic presence and input of African scholars. To use Fanon���s words��on��the colonial framing of the black subject as ���a product of cultural situation,��� I want to suggest that African studies��has��become ���a constellation of postulates, a series of propositions that slowly and subtly���with the help of books, newspapers, schools and their texts, advertisements, films, radio���work their way into one���s mind��� (Black Skin��152) or field of knowledge.��African studies��is��now a thinking machine��whose postulates and propositions are largely defined outside the continent.

The��aftermath��of such a��terrible��situation is��a familiar issue��in African studies. First, the analysis of African corpus or data is almost always��performed��through the exclusive use of Western, i.e. white, theory. Whenever you read an academic article about famous African literary figures��like��Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie��or��Alain��Mabanckou,��there is little engagement��with important voices in��literary criticism��or social sciences��from Africa, except for the usual names of Achille��Mbembe,��Kwame Anthony Appiah, or��Mahmood Mamdani.��My concern��here is not��about��authorial choices dictated by research argument and hypotheses, but��the��understanding��that��there is a curious��lack of diversity and flagrant absence of��consideration for valuable research input produced by prominent Africa-based��critics.��Second, continent-based scholars, and even African academics working in Western universities, are often excluded from public intellectualism. In the news or in public venues, there is an embarrassing preference to invite white Africanists��to comment on every single topic,��ranging��from��women���s oral culture all the way to electoral violence, and anything in between. The contention here is��that they��usually��promote��mild, if not flawed, arguments with the confidence and power of those who have disciplined knowledge for centuries.

This leads��us��to another important concern over canonization and renewal:��if the same scientific sources are cited time and time again and most of the works cited belongs to��white��Africanists��who are based in Western universities and research centers, one is purported��to��wonder about the��fate of��new academic��work��and input made by continent-based scholars. In the context of an aggressive��neoliberalization��of the university, the��commodification��of scholastic work into neoliberal market values��would entail that the academic contributions by Africa-based scholars are��largely��excluded from major publications.��In turn, these scholars become victims of predatory publishing journals because of the constant pressure to “publish or perish.”

Decolonization will cost you��US$129.99��per year

Decolonization has become a��neoliberal concept,��a radical chic term,��that has lost its inventive��and revolutionary��forms of thought and action. Shouting “decolonize this” or “decolonize that” in neoliberal spaces will not advance��the��African cause��but��contribute to a new grammar of reified identity politics.��The gentrification of African studies has insidiously altered the revolutionary potential and goals of��knowledge���s��decolonization.

The monetization of decolonization discourses promotes prejudice and discrimination against Africa-based scholars and forces them to accommodate to academic precarity and risky dependence on open sources.��There is��a��need to face the��terrible��reality of Africa-based researchers who are constantly��faced��by paywalls,��ruthlessly expensive��access,��and publication fees.��While Africanists in western universities benefit from their institutional subscriptions, the rising costs��of scientific journals are��unsustainable��even��for��Canadian universities, let alone��for under-funded African academic institutions.

What makes it��worse is the rehearsed reaction of putting the blame on��Africa-based academics��and their governments.��Sioux McKenna��finds it fitting to��surmise��that ���Africa contributes very little to international knowledge creation�����because the most common means of disseminating such knowledge is through academic publication and countries in Africa have not focused on developing this capacity.��� Of course, McKenna supports her take by citing the obvious go-to example of South Africa, while obscuring the inherent and too-big-to-overcome challenges faced by other universities��in other African countries��as a result of economic and cultural��problems caused by neocolonial and neoliberal forces.

Denying access to Africa-based scholars��generates��a crisis of representation and diversity in African studies. Similar to urban gentrification, the displacement and exclusion of these��academics have real consequences,��because��it leads to a significant deterioration��and impoverishment��of the quality and value of��the social and political of the field���s��contributions.��This phenomenon of epistemic violence��denies the possibility of��a nuanced and deeper understanding of African issues.

African studies have always been for Africans and about Africans. By writing this commentary, I��want to engage��our responsibility as academics, writers, and activists toward the re-ownership��and re-institutionalization of an important academic and cultural field of African activism and emancipation.��The gentrification of African studies is a threat to the field���s social and political contributions and therefore requires an urgent and thoughtful intervention.

John Bolton’s African power play

Africa, for Donald Trump and his National Security Advisor John Bolton, is a place to risk a little and chase some glory. US media just parrots it.





Image credit Gage Skidmore.

When John Bolton, National Security Adviser to President Donald Trump, unveiled a new program for American investment in Africa, he was quick to describe it as a ���counter��� to Chinese and Russian ambitions on the continent. If Bolton���s intent was to give a��jolt of appeal to a somewhat predictable round of upgrades for some existing government programs, he certainly succeeded. Even before the official announcement, at Heritage Foundation, NBC News��reported��the Trump White House would unveil a new strategy, with designs on ���countering China���s growing influence on the continent, as well as Russia���s attempts to gain footholds��in resource-rich, unstable countries.��� But when the official announcement came, the feature was much weaker than the promise. A��fact sheet���so far, the only document the White House has released on the new strategy���mentions China only once.

Not that a lack of overt references to great-power rivalry would deter Bolton.

For those not following the crazy��wing of the Republican Party over the last twenty years, Bolton is a longstanding foreign policy gadfly known for framing��every��bit of international news as either a challenge to American preeminence or an expression of it. Though he had been resolutely ignored by most of the mainstream of foreign policy thinkers since the Bush years, he had taken on a status of semi-consequence with the Trump ascendency. The Africa policy matter was one of his first major announcements, and true to form, he managed to make it all about grand geopolitical rivalry.

���Great power competitors, namely China and Russia, are rapidly expanding their financial and political influence across Africa,�����he said��at the unveiling. The reason for all of this gamesmanship, apparently, was ���to gain a competitive advantage over the United States.��� Once more, American media bought the line wholesale.

���Bolton Outlines a Strategy for Africa That���s Really About Countering China,�����screeched��a��New York Times��headline. (The��Times��helpfully added that ���experts welcomed the focus on Africa,��� and quoted some.) With a dash of context,��The Atlantic��offered��an equally��overblown headline on the new policy: ���Africa Is the New Front in the U.S.-China Influence War.���

So what is in the new policy? The only part the White House fact sheet directly ties to China concerns ���promoting prosperity.��� President Trump, we are told, will use the African Growth and Opportunity Act���a policy which has been on the books since 2000������to promote deeper trade ties��� between the US and Africa. The fact sheet also mentions a forthcoming ���Prosper Africa��� initiative,��but the description is vague. The new initiative will ���support open markets for American businesses��� and ���improve the business climate,��� it says. More details on all of this will probably come later, but if the synopsis is any indication, Washington will not be drastically reshaping its approach to Africa just yet.

What the new program likely will do is lend a hand to American companies who want to invest in Africa but have trouble justifying the added cost of taking on a risky investment to their own shareholders. One might argue that such a program could��also��be an attempt at geo-political gamesmanship: China has found allies in African capitals by building roads, bridges, dams, and soccer stadiums, now the US government will come bearing gifts in the form of American private sector investment. But helping American businesses���often by lending them money, or lobbying African governments on their behalf���has been one of the central components of US aid to Africa for decades. The Trump policy is likely to��only upgrade the old one approach, if it will even do that.

But maybe details like these do not matter to Bolton or other nationalists in Washington who want every new policy to assert American hegemony, or at least American greatness. For this crowd, the policy often matters less than the rhetoric justifying it.

In the 1970s, the French diplomat Louis de��Guiringaud��called Africa ���the only continent which is a possible field of action for France, the only one where, with 500 soldiers, she can still change the course of history.��� In Bolton���s worldview, the United States has its back against the wall fighting a nefarious Chinese onslaught, and Africa fills a similar role: a place to risk a little and chase some glory. Whether America���s aid does more or less than it has in the last twenty years matters less than whether it can be justified as an assertion of American power. This is a bad vision, and American media could do better than take it seriously.

The role of indigenous activism on climate change in Africa

Discussions on the global climate crisis tend to ignore the role that Africans are playing at the leading edge in the fight against climate change.



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Walking for water in Sierra Leone. Image credit Eduardo Fonseca Arraes via Flickr.

The recent��Intergovernmental��Panel on Climate Change��(IPCC)��report has again made it clear: unless drastic action is taken, the world is headed towards catastrophic levels of climate change. The people most affected by this are likely to be the most marginalized. In Africa, this means both those people who depend on fragile ecosystems for their livelihood, as well as those who live in the slum areas of Africa���s many coastal cities. What is particularly unjust is that those who have contributed least to climate change are at the same time those most likely to be affected by the problem.

Africa is often overlooked in discussions about climate change and when it is not, the continent is seen as being at the receiving end. Here, as in so many other domains, Africans are seen as victims, rather than as agents for change. However,��it is time to��provide some��nuance��to��that picture: Africans themselves are playing their part, both in fighting against new dirty energy projects and in helping people to cope with climate change as it occurs.

One example is the work of African member organizations of the��Friends of the Earth International��network. Friends of the Earth forms the world���s largest network of indigenous, grassroots environmental NGOs, with member organizations from 75 countries. These are all indigenous, autonomous groups that share a common analysis of the world���s most pressing environmental issues. On the basis of this shared analysis, they have chosen to work together and support each other. The highest organ in the network is the General Meeting, in which every member organization has an equal say.

In Africa, there are 14 Friends of the Earth member organizations, in as many countries. Some of them are called “Friends of the Earth,” others have different names, as shown on the video below.

All these groups are led by courageous activists and intellectuals. Their work at times is dangerous, but the fact of working together internationally in many cases offers a modest form of protection.

Here are a few recent examples of where Friends of the Earth groups have spoken out against dirty energy projects. One of these,��Groundwork South Africa��campaigns��against plans for new fracking activities in the country and has spoken out against the myth of “clean coal.”��Justicia Ambiental��in Mozambique has spoken out against plans for large dams and against coal mining in the country.��Les��Amis de la Terre Togo��is mobilizing against offshore oil exploration plans.

Friends of the Earth Ghana��has spoken out against Chinese-funded plans for an LNG regasification terminal. Finally,����Environmental Rights Action Nigeria��is one of the foremost groups trying to hold oil companies accountable for the destruction in the Niger Delta.

As is clear from this list, Friends of the Earth��groups are not afraid of speaking out against the dominant economic interests in their countries.

In the area of climate change mitigation, several Friends of the Earth groups are active in agroforestry projects, helping local communities to fight erosion and desertification. A good example can be found in��this video, showing the work of��FoE��Ghana in supporting and training local women���s group. In the words of Theo Anderson, director of��FoE��Ghana: “if you train a man, you train��one��person; but if you train a woman, you train the nation.”

In the area of oil, both strands���the support��to local communities and the fight against dirty energy���come��together. Thus,��AdT��Togo is working with community groups there to raise awareness about the possible impacts of oil. What this means for��local communities can be found in��this video.

These few examples show that in Africa, like in other parts of the world, there are activists and intellectuals who are playing their part in combating climate change and in combating new dirty energy schemes. The Friends of the Earth network offers a network of solidarity for these groups. However, they deserve to be more widely known and appreciated, also within Africa.