|
Books by and about Steve Biko
I
Write What I Like: Selected Writings (2002) /
The Testimony of Steve Biko (1984)
Biko
(1991) /
Black Consciousness in South Africa (1979) /
Biko Lives!: Contesting the Legacies of Steve
Biko
*
* * * *
Books by
Andile Mngxitama
Biko Lives!: Contesting the Legacies of
Steve Biko
*
* * * *
Why Steve Biko
Wouldn't Vote
Continuity in the
post1994 era
By
Andile Mngxitama
South Africa is on
the verge of going to its fourth national election since
1994.1 The socio-political changes
which have occurred in the country for past 15 years
point to a dramatic failure to realise the dream of
liberation as developed by Steve Biko. Here I develop an
argument for why Biko, like so many, would not be
voting.
Biko’s Conception of Liberation
Biko’s idea of liberation is fundamentally anti-racist
and anti-capitalist, as opposed to being anti-racialist,
non-racialist and intergrationist—these latter
conceptions of change naturally lead to the de-racialisation
of capitalism and thereby the legitimation of the white
supremacist political, economic and social existence
created over the last 350 years in South Africa. Biko’s
framing of the fundamental contradiction in South Africa
as one of white racism emanates from his conception of
capitalism as it emerged in the country as an inherently
racist project. In his words then:
|
[T]he
color question in South African politics was
originally introduced for economic reasons.
The leaders of the white community had to
create some kind of barrier between black
and whites so that the whites could enjoy
privileges at the expense of blacks and
still feel free to give moral justification
for the obvious exploitation that pricked
even hardest of white consciences. |
For Biko this initial
subjugation of black people for economic reason has over
time created the “white power structure.” This is to
mean white racism, while based on the historical
dispossession and oppression of blacks, has come to
assume a position of relative autonomy, where whiteness
normalises itself as a power dynamic based on a
superiority complex linked to skin colour on the one
hand and the supposed inferiority of blacks on the
other. The actual existing circumstances of blacks
(historically and systematically created) actually
reinforce the reality of this white superiority and
black denigration. These propositions are not merely
mental states, they are material, and determine life
chances and privileges. To be white is to be human as to
be black is to be subhuman. Biko sharply makes the point
that “[t]he racism we meet doesn’t only exist on an
individual basis; it is institutionalized to make it
look like the South African way of life.”
It must be said that in fact the normalisation of racism
is ingrained in the psyches of both whites (the
beneficiaries) and blacks (the victims). It was on the
recognition of this reality that Biko and his comrades
argued for the “conscientisation” of the blacks, because
black people at the time “often looked like they have
given up the struggle.” Key to the conscietisation
process was always the totality of black awareness and
pride for the purpose of struggle. For Biko, “Liberation
is of paramount importance in the concept of
Black Consciousness (BC), for we
cannot be conscious of ourselves and yet remain in
bondage.”2
Biko the Black Socialist
Throughout
I Write What I
Like we get snippets
of Biko’s attitude to capitalism and his attitude
towards a brand of socialism. It remains a mystery why
the Eurocentric neo-Marxist and other such “Leftist”
thinkers continue to cast
Black Consciousness (BC) as somehow
agreeable to capitalism. If we take seriously Biko’s
conception of apartheid South Africa as a country
inflicted by a white racism founded on the development
of its own brand of capitalism, it is hard to see how
Biko could have been pro-capitalist. Let's let Biko
speak for himself:
|
[T]he
poor shall always be black people. It’s not
surprising, therefore, that the blacks
should wish to rid themselves of a system
that locks up the wealth of the country in
the hands of a few. No doubt Rick Turner was
thinking about this when he declared that
"any black government is likely to be
socialist. |
Barney Pityana's echoing of the obviously erroneous
view that Biko was not a socialist—or rather that he was
an underdeveloped socialist—posits Biko’s vision as at
best one nationalist with a commitment to justice.
Pityana says Biko “had no language of socialism and
as such never critiqued to any substantive extent the
socialist ideology, save that he harboured intellectual
suspicions about socialist ideologies and practice.”
It is my contention that even in his earlier writing
Biko shows a favourable attitude towards socialism,
rejecting Stalinism, social imperialism, white
arrogance, and liberalism. It's possible it is
Pityana who is misreading Biko’s position. Anyway,
when Biko was asked, “You speak of an egalitarian
society. Do you mean a socialist one?” he answered:
|
Yes, I
think there is no running away from the fact
that now in South Africa there is such an
ill distribution of wealth that any form of
political freedom which doesn’t touch on the
proper distribution of wealth will be
meaningless. If we have a mere change of
face of those in governing positions what is
likely to happen is that black people will
continue to be poor, and you will see a few
blacks filtering through into the so called
bourgeoisie. Our society will be run almost
as of yesterday. |
In a 1972 interview
Biko elaborates on his criticism of Moscow’s social
imperialism and the South African Communist Party's
servile position to Moscow.3 Biko
furthermore demonstrates a deep appreciation of the
competing Marxian tendencies, including the South
African Trotskyite formations:
|
[A] lot
of young people see Moscow as revisionist in
a sense, even in the communist context. You
see what I mean? . . . [T]heir policies are
revisionist. They tend to demonstrate a hell
of a lot of the same things that one finds
among imperialists at this moment. So in a
sense they are not the kind of socialist
direction that people would like to follow. |
I want to argue that
throughout this conversation, Biko is developing a brand
of socialism which I would like to call black
socialism, for a lack of a better word. It’s
contextual and focused on the black experience as a
whole. It’s the kind of socialism which is anti-racist
in nature; it takes into account that whiteness is
pervasive and benefits whites irrespective of their
political standing.
In the 1972 interview Biko summarises his mode of
socialism:
|
There are
some leftist whites who have [an] attachment
to say[ing] the same rough principles of
post-revolutionary society, but a lot of
them are still terribly cynical about, for
instance, the importance of value systems
which we enunciate so often, from the black
consciousness angle. That it is not only
capitalism that is involved; it is also the
whole gamut of white value systems which has
been adopted as standard by South Africa,
both whites and blacks so far. And that will
need attention, even in a post-revolutionary
society. Values relating to all the
fields—education, religion, culture, and so
on. So your problems are not solved
completely when you alter the economic
pattern, to a socialist pattern. You still
don't become what you ought to be. There's
still a lot of dust to be swept off, you
know, from the kind of slate we got from
white society |
Anti-Racism vs.
Anti-Racialism
At the beginning we
argued that Biko’s vision of liberation was
fundamentally anti-racist as opposed to anti-racialist.
We also alluded to the fact that anti-racialism or non-
racialism inevitably leads to accommodation with white
supremacy, whilst anti-racism seeks to end the world as
we know it. We find
David Goldberg's formulation and articulation of
these categories, and what political and strategic
implications they hold, useful for our discussion.
The 1994 watershed inaugurated the realisation in a
formal sense of anti-racialism in South Africa. A moment
best described as the birth of “born again racism,” to
borrow from
Goldberg. This is achieved at the point of
abandoning the promises of liberation as a matter of
structural transformation into a matter of inclusion.
Accordingly, this is realised through legal formalism,
and dare I add the fetish of constitutionalism, which
promises equality in the abstract as it provides the
historically advantaged more avenues to protect their
ill-gained privileges in the name of the rule of law. In
the South African context this meant the sedimentation
of reconciliation without justice into the DNA of our
law and constitution. From this perspective, blacks
can't claim reparations, can't ask for justice for past
transgressions; blacks can’t even simply speak the
specificity of their black suffering. The black grammar
of being, which is in essence a grammar of suffering, is
actually not only socially frowned upon, it's outlawed.
Goldberg argues that “[B]orn again racism is racism
without race, racism gone private, racism without
categories of naming it as such.” It is indeed “raceless
racism,” which chimes well with the colourlessness
demand of non-racialism based on a proclaimed equality
before the law. Anti-racialism, or in our case
non-racialism, erases the category of race but not
racism. It disables those marked out for racism by the
colour of their skin to claim redress or the name the
crime. Racism is not a criminal offence in South Africa.
The tragic consequences of anti-racialism in South
Africa are felt everyday in the denial of recognising
black exclusion, suffering, and death. We can't even say
that the people dying from wanton neglect in
Baragwanath hospital are black. Nor can we say that
the more than 100 children who died without a scandal in
the
Eastern Cape and
Mount
Frere hospitals are black, or that the life
expectancy between black and white is so wide you would
think they live in different continents. Nor can we say
that the South African state continues differential
treatment of people based on skin colour, or point out
that the groans of blacks under the weight of
racism—both individualised and, most importantly,
institutionalised—has no resonance in the state's
dominant discourse of democracy, freedom, nation
building, and economic fundamentals.
Anti-racialism has found fertile ground in
South Africa Leftist politics, which has always
refused to accept race as a legitimate category of
analysis, existence, and resistance. In the post-1994
era we have seen the development of at least three
tragic consequences (for excluded blacks) as a result of
this commitment to anti-racialism. Firstly, the retreat
of radical scholarship from theorising the state; if the
apartheid state was a racist, neo-Nazi, settler colonial
state in the service of racial capitalism, then what is
the post-1994 state? Have there been any fundamental
ruptures? My own take is that the post-1994 state
remains racist in character and serves white racism in
the context of promoting accumulation and the
reproduction of capitalism. Note I don’t use the
favourable “post-apartheid.”
The second consequence has been that black leadership
has taken over the levers of white supremacist
institutions. This mirrors the sort of comedy we see in
the functioning and symbolism of our parliamentary
processes and courts. The annual opening of parliament
is significant in its dramatisation of the neo-apartheid
nature of our body politic, a red carpet against
colonial iconography and statues. The whole scene is
dominated by colourful African dress, basically dressing
up the colonial and apartheid power structures in
African colours. The essence remains white racist. The
same ethic plays itself out more visibly in the
university environment. You have black heads of white
and often racist universities. The faculty is dotted
with blacks, but the curriculum, the culture and ethos
remain white. Claims of racism from students and black
faculty are mediated by blacks on top, thereby enacting
a situation of black-on-black violence in preserving the
whiteness of these institutions. Basically post-1994
inaugurates a neo-colony.
The third and sad consequence of the triumph of
anti-racialism is the “recruitment of people of colour
to act as public spokespersons.” There is a curious
development in this area, because some “committed” black
African public intellectuals have in essence become
ironic spokespersons of anti-racialism in the name of
either defending democracy, promoting “cosmopolitanism”
or nation-building, or as the defenders of a new sense
of progressive identity.
My take is that Biko’s conception of BC is fundamentally
anti-racist and stands inimically to anti-racialism and
the terms of the post-1994 constitutional dispensation.
To reiterate, Biko’s conception of black liberation is
predicated on the obliteration of white racism—itself a
product of capitalist accumulation present since the
white and black violent encounter in 1652—which
continues to reproduce the same prejudice (as both
individual and institutionalised racism), 1994's changes
notwithstanding. In a sense there is no possibility of
obliterating white racism, without fundamentally
changing how things are around here.
Contesting Biko
In our book,
Biko Lives!: Contesting the Legacies of Steve Biko
(2008), we identify at least three ways in which Biko is
contested today. The first is the black business class,
second the state-linked political and bureaucratic
classes (the “bureaucratic bourgeoisie”),4
and finally the excluded majority (for whom the 1994
miracle remains a rumour).
I have alluded to the fact that the post-1994 political
terrain is punctuated more by continuity than rupture. I
tried to further show that the post-1994 moment has
inaugurated a born-again racism which finds
expression in constitutional precepts, laws, and
opportunities in general within South African society.
This reality stands opposed and in deep, sharp contrast
to what Biko stood for. I want to argue that the racist
state formation inherited by the post-1994 political
managers should be a central consideration for staying
away from the electoral process. If you arrive at this
position, then whoever participates in the elections
must explain how their participation does not provide
legitimacy to the post-1994 racist state form.
Biko’s non-participation echoes what for now appears to
be a position of the margins, a doing politics
differently, but still a minority position from the
“public eye.” This minority is part of the millions who
abstain from the electoral process for various reasons,
which range from disillusionment to deep cynicism. Then
there are the vocal, conscious and principled
boycotters, such as the myriad social movements (Abahlali
baseMjondolo, the
Anti-Privatisation Forum (APF), the
Landless People's Movement (LPM) and the
Anti-Eviction Campaign), with their cries of “No
land, no vote! No housing, no vote! No electricity and
water, no vote!”
This cry started in the last election, and has been
growing; it's part of the 20,000 or so protests recorded
in the past few years. These are principled boycotters
whom I think Biko would be marching with, burning tires
with, blocking roads with, and swearing at the pompous
and over-fed politicians with. There are groups like the
counterculture group Blackwash, which is part of the
loose collective of groups under the “Nope” initiative.
These groups collectively frown upon the whole electoral
circus, and respond with messages such as “Fuck voting!”
and “Our dreams don’t fit in your ballots.” As a loose
collective they have come to accept that our post-1994
liberal democratic process is a decoy for the
elaboration of power. The Nope initiative for instance
counters the sterility of political parties’ empty
rhetoric with their own “manifestering.” a form of
counter-manifesto. Those refusing in this way operate
decidedly outside of the mainstream; they don’t even
hear the threatening rebuke of the Independent Electoral
Commission (IEC), “Don’t vote, don’t complain.” They
place their hope in manifestering over manifestoes,
which are about the mediation of desires and the
permanent postponement of promises. The Nope
manifestering cautions against pinning our hopes on
manifestoes that cannot:
|
. . .
escape their framing by capitalism’s own
manifesto. A manifesto that is felt
everywhere by everyone. A manifesto that has
taken hold in our everyday lives. That tries
to get under our skins, and make us live in
ways alien to our desires, the fulfillment
of these always a matter of hope. |
Against the empty
promise of hope we can't cope:
|
But as a
sore festers, the wounds inflicted on the
poor, the homeless, women, children, the
unemployed, those of us excluded from
learning |
This is a vindication
of the implausibility of doing politics with a racist
polity. The state form itself must be obliterated for
new possibilities to emerge; it's not about defending
the constitution but about defending life and the
liberty of those who haven’t tasted any as yet.
Frowning upon the politics of manifestoes and ballot
box democracies, Nope laughs at these ugly, demented
rituals:
|
The
mandatory manifesto. Every party has one.
Every organisation. Every campaign. Lists of
demands to be delivered, visions to be
attained in some future always on the
horizon. A ritual. A routine whose rhythms
refuse the possibility for any ways of being
political other than the vesting of hope in
a vote. And that lock us in an endless cycle
of reading our desires off the possibilities
imagined by others for us all. |
We hear clearly the
call for responsibility, discipline, hard work, respect
for the dead and yesterday's heroic sacrifices, all
reduced to “people died for the vote.” I’m not
convinced, neither do I think Steve died so that we
could have the vote. We had bigger hopes and bigger
dreams than 4x4s, arms deals, Johnny Walker blue
edition, the vulgarity of buying islands and the
everyday violence of existence. On the other hand, the
millions who in election after election draw an X in the
cubicle of hope, sight an ultimately deflated
hope and can't cope with their basic desires, walking
back to misery and exclusion.
The Nope manifestering process locates itself in the
Armageddon predicted by
Strini Moodley, “the coming implosion”:
|
Today the
system struggles, itself nursing injuries
from our fights, our individual and
collective refusals against the mantras of
commodity, payment, fiscal discipline,
conservation, restraint, indigent
management. . . . The burns stretch from the
eyelid to the ankle of the globe. They
cannot grow any bigger. But they can still
deepen. |
I'm saying that
Biko’s politics at the time of his death ran
fundamentally in a different direction to what is being
offered by the electoral process today, a process
predicated on the preservation of our racist state,
itself an outcome of the 1994 miracle. So quite apart
from the fact that of all political parties playing the
game right now, none is for
Moodley or Biko’s Armageddon, there is the
fundamental question of the legitimation of a state
which is fundamentally against black people, even as it
gives them an Reconstruction and Development Programme (RDP)
house, a grant here, a pension payout there, inferior
education and a health system which is dangerous to the
health of the many. No, to say '”94 changed fokol,” as
Blackwash proclaims, is not to deny that some things
have been done, it's rather to protest at just how low
the threshold has been placed. I mean, not even an
apartheid government’s matchbox house?
To be outside right now gives you a fighting chance to
be part of the solution. In or out is the question; it's
not difficult to see where Biko would stand, if we pay
attention to what he stood for.
Notes
1This
contribution is an abridged version of a lecture, which
is now a booklet, and was first delivered at the
University of Johannesburg, then Rhodes University. It
will be subject to discussion at the South African Human
Rights Commission this Friday.
2
The 1976 uprising can be said to be a philosophical
uprising, that is to mean resistance which is conscious
of itself—black
power! The uprising’s war cry is unmistakably black
consciousness. The 1980s, rendering South Africa
ungovernable, were in some way an uprising which didn’t
think for itself save for the brilliance of resistance
itself. The consequences were big; when Lusaka and
Robben Island said “stop,” that resistance fizzled out
and deferred all its disruptive capacity to the
disciplining powers of the “leadership,” meaning a deal
could be cut between two elite camps.
3
This interview was discovered a few years ago at the
William Cullen Library at Wits, it was done conducted by
Professor Gail M. Gerhard, on 24 October 1972 in Durban.
It is published for the first time in
Biko Lives!
4 To my knowledge
this conception was coined by Issa G. Shivji.
16 April 2009
Source:
Pambazuka
Andile Mngxitama
was born and raised on the farms of Potchefstroom in the
North West Province to a farm worker and a domestic
worker. Mngxitama, who holds an MA in sociology from the
University of Witwatersarand, is a leading
Black Consciousness thinker and organizer. He co-edited
Biko Lives!: Contesting the Legacies of Steve Biko,
a collection of essays on the philosophy and writings of
Black Consciousness. leader, Steve Biko. The
collection looks at the ongoing significance of
Black Consciousness, situating it in a global
framework, examining the legacy of Biko, the current
state of post-apartheid South African politics, and the
culture and history of the anti-apartheid movements.
* * *
* *
The Threat of Race: Reflections on Racial
Neoliberalism
By
David Theo Goldberg
Written with the same clarity and
masterly command of contemporary scholarship as his now
classic
Racist Culture and The Racial State, and
powerfully articulating the tensions of the postcolonial
societies in the North and the South, David Theo
Goldberg’s new book is likely to transform the lively
debate on the construction of “race” as category and its
relationship to historical processes of “racialization”.—–Etienne
Balibar, Paris X Nanterre and University of California
A systematic, wonderfully readable
and thoroughly radical assessment of the politics of
race that offers a unique perspective on where critical
race theory stands at the moment, and the questions just
beginning to emerge for the future.—Achille
Mbembe, author of On the Postcolony
* * *
* *
 |
Biko Lives!: Contesting the
Legacies of Steve Biko
By Andile Mngxitama, Amanda
Alexander. and Nigel Gibson
This welcome collection of
essays about Biko's existentialism,
self-consciousness, place of phenomenology
in his philosophy, and contribution to the
dialectics of liberation, as well as the
meaning of race and class problematic in
Biko's work, African culture and humanism in
his thinking, attitude toward the rights and
roles of women, and much more examines his
legacy and the meaning that his preachings,
writings, and life's example gave to the
development of black consciousness in South
Africa.
But, by far, the most
important chapters in the book are Gail
Gerhart's hitherto unpublished 1972
interview with Biko and Neville Alexander's
recollection of Biko and the Azanian
Manifesto.—R.
I. Rotberg, Choice |
*
* * * *
|
Nigel C. Gibson
is director of the Honors Program at Emerson
College.
Amanda Alexander
is a PhD student in African history at
Columbia University and a Visiting
Researcher at the Centre for Civil Society,
University of KwaZulu-Natal.
Andile Mngxitama
is a PhD student at the University of
Witwatersrand.
Table of
Contents
Part
I: Philosophic Dialogues
Biko: African Existentialist
Philosophy—Mabogo More
Self-Consciousness as Force
and Reason of Revolution
in the Thought of
Steve Biko—Lou Turner
A Phenomenology of Biko's
Black Consciousness—Lewis
Gordon
Biko and the Problematic of
Presence—Frank
Wilderson
May the
Black God Stand Please!: Biko's Challenge to
Religion—Sam Maluleke
Part
II: Contested Histories and Intellectual
Trajectories
Black Consciousness after
Biko: The Dialectics of Liberation in South
Africa, 1977-1987—Nigel Gibson
An Illuminating Moment:
Background to the Azanian Manifesto—Neville
Alexander
Critical Intellectualism: The Role of Black
Consciousness in Reconfiguring the
Race-Class Problematic in South Africa—Nurina
Ally and Shireen Ally
Part
III: Cultural Critiques and the Politics of
Gender
The Influences and
Representations of Biko and Black
Consciousness in Poetry in Apartheid and
Post-Apartheid South Africa/Azania—Mphutlane
wa Bofelo
A Human Face: Biko's
Conceptions of African Culture and Humanism—Andries
Oliphant
Re-membering Biko for The
Here And Now—Prishani
Naidoo and Ahmed Veriava The
Black
Consciousness Philosophy and the Woman’s
Question in South Africa: 1970-1980—M. J.
Oshadi Mangena
Part
IV: Memory and critical Remembrance
(Interviews)
Interview with
Strini Moodley—Naomi Klein, Ashwin
Desai, and Avi Lewis
Interview with
Deborah Matshoba—Amanda Alexander and
Andile Mngxitama |
* * * * *
Bad Faith and Antiblack Racism
By Lewis R.
Gordon
Incognegro: A Memoir of
Exile and Apartheid
By Frank
B. Wilderson III
Afro- Pessimism By
Frank
B. Wilderson
“Afro-Pessimists are framed as such . . . because they theorize an
antagonism, rather than a conflict—i.e., they perform a kind of
‘work of understanding’ rather than that of liberation, refusing to
posit seemingly untenable solutions to the problems they raise.”
“[The Afro-Pessimists argue]
that violence toward the black person happens gratuitously, hence
without former transgression, and the even if the means of
repression change (plantation was replaced by prison, etc.), that
doesn’t change the structure of the repression itself. Finally (and
this is important in terms of the self-definition of the white
person), a lot of repression happens on the level of representation,
which then infiltrates the unconscious of both the black and the
white person . . . Since these structures are ontological, they
cannot be resolved (there is no way of changing this unless the
world as we know it comes an end. . . .); this is why the
[Afro-Pessimist relational-schema] would be seen as the only true
antagonism (while other repressive relations like class and gender
would take place on the level of conflict—they can be resolved,
hence they are not ontological).”
“[The Afro-Pessimists] work
toward delineating a relation rather than focus on a cultural
object.”
“Something that all the
Afro-Pessimists seem to agree upon regarding social death are
notions of kinship (or lack there of), the absence of time and space
to describe blackness. . . . There is no grammar of suffering to
describe their loss because the loss cannot be named.”
“[The Afro-Pessimists] theorize
the workings of civil society as contiguous with slavery, and
discuss the following as bearing witness to this contiguity: the
inability of the slave (or the being-for-the-captor) to translate
space into place and time into event; the fact that the slave
remains subject to gratuitous violence (rather than violence
contingent on transgression); the natal alienation and social death
of the slave.”
“[T]he Afro-Pessimists all seek
to . . . stage a metacritique of the current discourse identified as
“critical theory” by excavating an antagonism that exceeds it; to
recognize this antagonism forces a mode of death that expels
subjecthood and forces objecthood [upon Blacks].”
“For Fanon, the solution to the
black presence in the white world is not to retrieve and celebrate
our African heritage, as was one of the goals of the Negritude
project. For Fanon, a revolution that would destroy civil society,
as we know it would be a more adequate response. I think the
Afro-Pessimist such as Hartman, Spillers, and Marriott would argue
there is no place for the black, only prosthetics, techniques which
give the illusion of a relationality in the world.”
Like the work of
Jared Sexton,
Saidiya Hartman,
David Marriott,
Hortense Spillers,
Frantz Fanon,
Lewis Gordon,
Joy James, and others, Wilderson’s poetry, creative prose,
scholarly work, and film production are predicated on the notion
that slavery did not end in 1865; the United States simply made
adjustments to the force of Black resistance without diminishing the
centrality of Black captivity to the stability and coherence of
civil society.—Incognegro
* *
* * *
Hunger for a Black President /
Introduction I Write What I Like Biko
Biosketch Biko
Speaks on Africans
* * *
* *
* * * * *
 |
Salvage the Bones
A Novel by Jesmyn Ward
On one level, Salvage the Bones is a simple story about a poor black family that’s about to be trashed by one of the most deadly hurricanes in U.S. history. What makes the novel so powerful, though, is the way Ward winds private passions with that menace gathering force out in the Gulf of Mexico. Without a hint of pretension, in the simple lives of these poor people living among chickens and abandoned cars, she evokes the tenacious love and desperation of classical tragedy. The force that pushes back against Katrina’s inexorable winds is the voice of Ward’s narrator, a 14-year-old girl named Esch, the only daughter among four siblings. Precocious, passionate and sensitive, she speaks almost entirely in phrases soaked in her family’s raw land. Everything here is gritty, loamy and alive, as though the very soil were animated. Her brother’s “blood smells like wet hot earth after summer rain. . . . His scalp looks like fresh turned dirt.” Her father’s hands “are like gravel,” while her own hand “slides through his grip like a wet fish,” and a handsome boy’s “muscles jabbered like chickens.” Admittedly, Ward can push so hard on this simile-obsessed style that her paragraphs risk sounding like a compost heap, but this isn’t usually just metaphor for metaphor’s sake. She conveys something fundamental about Esch’s fluid state of mind: her figurative sense of the world in which all things correspond and connect. She and her brothers live in a ramshackle house steeped in grief since their mother died giving birth to her last child. . . . What remains, what’s salvaged, is something indomitable in these tough siblings, the strength of their love, the permanence of their devotion.— WashingtonPost
|
* * * * *
|
The New Jim Crow
Mass Incarceration in the Age of
Colorblindness
By Michele Alexander
Contrary to the
rosy picture of race embodied in Barack
Obama's political success and Oprah
Winfrey's financial success, legal
scholar Alexander argues vigorously and
persuasively that [w]e have not ended
racial caste in America; we have merely
redesigned it. Jim Crow and legal racial
segregation has been replaced by mass
incarceration as a system of social
control (More African Americans are
under correctional control today... than
were enslaved in 1850). Alexander
reviews American racial history from the
colonies to the Clinton administration,
delineating its transformation into the
war on drugs. She offers an acute
analysis of the effect of this mass
incarceration upon former inmates who
will be discriminated against, legally,
for the rest of their lives, denied
employment, housing, education, and
public benefits. Most provocatively, she
reveals how both the move toward
colorblindness and affirmative action
may blur our vision of injustice: most
Americans know and don't know the truth
about mass incarceration—but her
carefully researched, deeply engaging,
and thoroughly readable book should
change that.—Publishers
Weekly |
 |
* * * * *
The White Masters of the
World
From
The World and Africa, 1965
By W. E. B. Du Bois
W. E. B. Du Bois’
Arraignment and Indictment of White Civilization
(Fletcher)
* *
* * *
Ancient African Nations
* * * * *
If you like this page consider making a donation
* * * * *
Negro Digest /
Black World
Browse all issues
1950
1960
1965
1970
1975
1980
1985
1990
1995
2000
____ 2005
Enjoy!
* * * * *
The Death of Emmett Till by Bob Dylan
/
The Lonesome Death of Hattie Carroll
/
Only a Pawn in Their Game
Rev. Jesse Lee Peterson Thanks America for
Slavery /
George Jackson /
Hurricane Carter
* *
* * *
The Journal of Negro History issues at Project Gutenberg
The
Haitian Declaration of Independence 1804
/
January 1, 1804 -- The Founding of
Haiti
* * * * *
* *
* * *
ChickenBones Store
(Books, DVDs, Music, and more)
update 2 February 2012
|