Recently, I have been finding myself going back to a revolutionary thinker Frantz Fanon oftentimes, not just for his seminal analysis of colonial and anti-colonial violence in The Wretched of the Earth but also for his third chapter, The Pitfalls of National Consciousness.
It would not be correct, and I am sure he would not accept it, to call him a prophet because he had examples from Latin America to go to. Still, it is amazing how much he could foresee how things would turn out after political independence. For today, let me use this quote from the chapter as it sums up very well the relationship between ruling parties and the people:
“The political party in many parts of Africa which are today independent is puffed up in a most dangerous way. In the presence of a member of the party, the people are silent, behave like a flock of sheep and publish panegyrics in praise of the government of the leader.
“But in the street when evening comes, away from the village, in the cafes or by the river, the bitter disappointment of the people, their despair but also their unceasing anger makes itself heard.
“The party, instead of welcoming the expression of popular discontentment, instead of taking for its fundamental purpose the free flow of ideas from the people up to the government, forms a screen, and forbids such ideas.”
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For me, this provides a critical commentary on the relationship between rulers and ruled and the nature of ‘peace’ in our societies. On the surface, everything looks peaceful. The people sing the praises of the leaders and agree to everything they are told, so the leaders are conned into thinking there is peace and react angrily to anything other than songs of praise.
No peace
But in reality, how much peace is there? People are angry and disappointed, and when they express such anger, they are quickly silenced in the name of peace. But there can be no peace when they are angry and disappointed.
There is no peace in their hearts, and there is no peace in their homes when their livelihoods are constantly threatened and even removed without any consultation, any concern for their issues or lives.
That is why, even more than ten years back when a member of the ruling party went to Manzese and started preaching about how they were maintaining peace, the young people shouted, “We are tired of peace.” It may be peace for the ruling class but for the majority there is no peace. When sheep are herded to the slaughterhouse, is there peace?
Peace is not just the absence of physical or armed conflict. I learned this when I was a consultant listening to and presenting the voices of young people in a certain West African country. With regard to peace and security, all the talk among the rulers was about ‘peacekeepers’ and how their role could gradually be reduced.
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But the girls and young women I talked to pointed out very strongly that, for them, there was no peace. They were constantly at risk of being sexually harassed and abused. As a result, their concerns had to be included in the section on peace in the new national plan.
In our ‘peaceful’ land, I have found the same repeatedly in workshops with young people. When asked to draw maps of their communities and show where the danger points are, almost every place in the community is a danger to them, including schools, health centres, government offices, and often places of worship.
The same applies to huge numbers of particularly young people who live precarious lives trying to make a living for themselves. Whatever they do is always under threat from plans made without their participation, from attacks by the forces of ‘law and order,’ from arbitrary arrest and condemnation. What peace do they enjoy?
Thus, when we talk about peace, we should avoid its superficial interpretation as a lack of conflict or violence, although the use of force by those in power to create superficial peace is commonplace. At its most extreme level, I remember the famous American quote about Vietnam: “We had to destroy the town in order to save it.”
Duh! Save it? Yes, save it from the opposition. So destroy people, destroy their right to speak up, beat them up and send them to hospital in order to “save them.”
Structural violence
In addition, there is also what is called “structural violence”: systemic and systematic violence, which also is the cause of most of the physical violence among the victims of the structural violence.
First of all, a system which allows a few to get rich, often by questionable and corrupt means while depriving the majority of their basic human needs, is violence. We only see the violence of the deprived when they rise up, but never the violence against them that caused them to rise up in the first place.
A second form of structural violence is what has been called “represssive intolerance”: the deprival of human rights, especially the right to express different opinions, and above all to organise to express different opinions. Here, Fanon’s analysis comes into play again.
“The party, instead of welcoming the expression of popular discontentment, instead of taking for its fundamental purpose the free flow of ideas from the people up to the government, forms a screen, and forbids such ideas.”
In its highest form, physical violence against a few – who end up dumped in some distant corner– is used to intimidate the rest of us, but it can be used in many other ways, including deprival of the right to speak or do one’s job, threats of deregistration, trumped up charges in court, threats to close down social media, et cetera.
Such violence and threats can indeed bring superficial peace once more. However, still: “In the street when evening comes, away from the village, in the cafes or by the river, the bitter disappointment of the people, their despair but also their unceasing anger makes itself heard.”
Where’s wisdom?
Discontentment, despair, and anger do not go away. Hence, recently, I have found myself wondering a little about our national anthem. Conceived as it was at a time of great national unity and fervour, it was enough to believe that hekima, umoja na amani were sufficient for Africa as a whole.
Wisdom would prevail ensuring the continuation of unity and peace! It seems they did not foresee a time when people, especially leaders, do not act with wisdom? What happens when the unity is broken by a small class appropriating revenues to itself and living a life of luxury in the face of the majority who are struggling to face a living?
Where is the unity between the luxury livers and livelihood strugglers? Maybe we should have added the word haki, or fairness and justice, to umoja and amani.
So what we are seeing next door to us and across Africa is a rejection of the “peace” of the luxury livers at the expense of the livelihood strugglers. It is expressed in the violent rejection of imperialism as shown by the new army leaders in ‘Francophone’ West Africa and the Gen Z of our neighbours, as well as the rejection of the class that maintains the imperial system for their own benefit.
And the less we address the structural violence that threatens peace, the more likely we are to face the physical violence of the deprived, however many songs of praise had been sung the day before, however many threats are used to silence.
True peace, deep and lasting peace based on justice will only come if …
Richard Mabala is an educator, poet, and author. He is available at rmabala@yahoo.com or on X (Twitter) as @MabalaMakengeza. These are the writer’s own opinions, and they do not necessarily represent the viewpoint of The Chanzo. Do you want to publish in this space? Contact our editors at editor@thechanzo.com for further inquiries.
