The world, so far away

People like to suggest that there is a separation between US foreign and domestic policy, but this cannot be true, especially in relation to the Black struggle and its interconnections with the struggles of other oppressed peoples. US opposition to the Soviet Union resulted in the suppression of alleged communists, writers, and Black activists including Paul Robeson and W.E.B. Du Bois here.

US support for colonial regimes abroad was intimately connected to the surveillance of leaders such as Malcolm X and Martin Luther King. It is no wonder why the former was targeted for elimination by both the CIA and FBI, and the latter was the subject of a sustained effort to prompt his suicide by the FBI. Further, the violent suppression of Black Power formations such as the Black Panther Party, the Us Organization, the Republic of New Africa and others was linked to a desire—not only to negate Black self-determination, but to also nullify the emergence of a domestic armed struggle analogous to the many that were being waged in both Africa and Asia.

In the 1980s, the murder of leaders like Maurice Bishop, Thomas Sankara, and support for South Africa’s apartheid regime ran parallel to campaigns of destabilization within domestic Black communities, in some cases utilizing similar tactics of repression as in the case of the MOVE bombing in Philadelphia and the toppling of Bishop’s government in Grenada, or South Africa’s arrest and detainment of anti-apartheid leaders and the US’s continued containment of Black political prisoners.

Finally, the continued imposition of neo-colonialism on the people of Haiti (under every president since Clinton), the destabilization of countries in the Americas like Honduras (under Obama) and Bolivia (under Trump), the resource exploitation of Congo, and complicity in proxy wars and mass-killings are all reminders of the depravity of the state, but also actions which have profound consequences for the lives of Africans and other racialized and oppressed groups in the US as the ideological and political aftershocks of these events will result in continued surges in refugees who have been displaced by war, an intensification of resource extraction in vulnerable communities (i.e., oil), the enlargement of the poor due to economic dislocation, continued disinvestment in domestic infrastructure aid institutions in order to support the war industries, the on-going militarization of American policing, the expansion of the surveillance state, the suppression of civil liberties, and the exponential growth of insecurity in the world. Whats more, these things are not simply artifacts of a reality yet to come into being, they are with us at this very moment.

The world is not “out there” in some far flung place. The world is here with us, where our lives will, to greater or lesser degrees parallel what is happening within it. We ignore this to our peril.

Visiting the Whitney Plantation

My wife and I recently visited the Whitney Plantation. It is about 40 minutes west of the New Orleans. While we have visited Cape Coast Castle in Ghana, as well as the African Burial Ground in New York, this was our first visit to a plantation.

We learned that the Whitney Plantation was founded by a German immigrant who later became assimilated into the surrounding French Creole culture. In the 18th Century, his and his family’s fortunes were made off of indigo. Once this crop ceased to be viable, they transitioned to sugar. Both crops were profoundly dangerous to the enslaved Africans whose forced labor they exploited. As in other parts of the Americas, those who worked in the cane fields had short, miserable lives of about 7 to 8 years.

When touring the plantation you can learn how the plantation functioned as an economic engine. It was highly regimented with ringing bells to signal shift changes and a 24-hour labor force. While I am familiar with the labor dynamics of cotton plantations, sugar plantations were quite different in terms of the nature, structure, and hazards of the work which our ancestors were compelled to do.

Even after the end of legalized slavery, the brutal exploitation of African labor continued as a type of neo-slavery, a practice that was given legal sanction via laws which both restricted the movement of newly freed Africans/Blacks, mandated their employment on the local plantations where they were previously enslaved, and assigned convict labor to the cane fields.

Today, the Whitney functions as a museum and a research site. Several of the structures from the 18th and 19th Century have been preserved there. There are also structures from surrounding areas that have been transported to the site for preservation. You can even see the large iron vats that were used to process sugar. Various memorials and monuments have been erected to tell the story of the 500 Africans who were enslaved there. These monuments were very moving.

One monument details the Africans who were sold when two brothers, who owned the site parted company over 200 years ago. Each of the Africans who were sold in this “transaction” are listed. Another set of monuments lists the names of each African who has been identified as having been enslaved on the Whitney Plantation. You can see various names that indicate their place of origin (i.e., the Senegambia or Congo) or their ethnicity (i.e. Bambara, Congo, Igbo, and so on). Some African names are also visible. I noted a number of popular West African names like Mamadou and Boubacar, as well as various Akan and Ewe, as Kofi, Kwaku, and Aba. They also shared accounts of the savage violence that our ancestors were subject to.

There was a memorial to the Africans who took part in the 1811 German Coast Revolt who were later executed, and another to the many children who died on the plantation. We were so moved by the latter two, that Safia suggested that we do a libation in their honor, which we did—one near each memorial.

It was a moving experience, one which reminds me of the importance of study and reflection upon our past, and determination in our efforts to create, as Maulana Karenga says, “the world that we want and deserve to live in.”

On denialists’ folly

I recently watched an interesting video on YouTube titled, “Why flat earthers scare me,” which offered an analysis of the recent history and pervasiveness of this perspective. I agree with many points raised in this video. There are two points that are made that were valuable to me. First, the commentator cites a study that states that people who believe that the Earth is flat have a lower than average level of scientific literacy, but a higher than average degree in confidence in the veracity of their beliefs. Second, she notes that at some point in the mid-20th Century, science, reached a level of complexity beyond the comprehension of the average person—which poses important challenges in terms of scientific literacy more broadly.

This is all very consistent with my experience with individuals who claim that the transatlantic slave trade never happened. I have observed and interacted with individuals who seemed to know very little about history, cultural anthropology, or biology, whose ignorance limited both what they knew, but also what they were capable of understanding. These same individuals were also quite dogmatic in their views, insisting that those who knew far more than them were in fact ignorant of the truth.

Additionally, I see the basis of this ignorance as primarily social—that is, that it is a product of pervasive and intergenerational anti-African propaganda in the US, coupled with the suppression of information regarding African and African Diaspora history and culture in schooling system. 

Further, I think that this kind of ignorance is not only foolish, but that it has significant negative political implications for our community. Their view (that we are, in fact, native to the Americas) consigns historians, linguists, cultural anthropologists, archaeologists, and certainly geneticists to being a part of some vast conspiracy against an implausible belief. Further, they must ignore the preponderance of African cultural retentions in the Americas, accounts by African Diasporans in the 18th and 19th Centuries, as well as actual slave narratives to sustain such flawed premises. Lastly, our historical, cultural, and political connections to the rest of the African world have been and are a vital tool in our struggle for freedom. Such denialism undermines these connections and the potential that they possess.

Finally, these denialists demonstrate a political myopia—that is, not only is their idea historically and scientifically fallacious, it is also politically impotent. They have exchanged our actual ancestral legacy for one whose veracity is non-existent and whose legitimacy will always be contested. They reflect the Yoruba proverb that states, “Ibi tí a ti ńpìtàn ká tó jogún, ká mọ̀ pé ogún ibẹ̀ ò kanni,” which translates as “Where one must recite genealogies in order to establish one’s claim to inheritance, one should know that one really has no claim to patrimony there.” This means that  legitimate claims seldom require such elaborate performance. They do not require the suppression of evidence or its fabrication. They stand on their own merits.

On the African origins of African Diasporans (including Africans/Blacks in the United States)

To whom it may concern (including those who are in denial of this): Our food, language, music, dance, historical narratives from the antebellum period, combat arts, spiritual traditions, healing modalities, DNA, and so on are clearly African derived. These are not matters of opinion, but reflect the empirical reality.

On the Consequences of Silent/silenced Men

For example, one recent study found connections between stress and prostate cancer. They report:” Researchers at Loma Linda University Health contend that the disproportionate amount of chronic stress African Americans face is partly responsible for the alarmingly high incidence and mortality rates from prostate cancer observed in African American men.”

Of course, we also know that stress, as a long-term experience can greatly erode one’s quality-of-life, resulting in a shortened life-expectancy. A Pro-Publica article reports that: “Sherman James is a social epidemiologist who has spent the past four decades exploring why Black men have higher rates of diseases that lead to shorter lifespans than all other Americans.” The article continues, “His conclusion is that the constant stress of striving to succeed in the face of social inequality and structural racism can cause lasting physical damage.”

Furthermore, mental health challenges have particularly adverse impacts on Black men and boys. Citing a study published in the Journal of the American Medical Association, an article from Forbes states, “A 2021 JAMA study revealed that Black men had a larger increase in suicide attempts than any other racial group. It also found that suicide rates in Black male adolescents increased by 47% from 2013 to 2019. Black suicidologists say it’s partially due to racism.”

Returning to my initial point, I cannot fathom how a silent (or silenced) group can help themselves, help others, seek help, or meaningfully exist in community. I may be mistaken, but I believe that for Black men, such silence could be deadly. Suffering in silence is a sure fire way to expedite a decline in one’s mental and physical health. I think that rather than men, specifically Black men, being silent, we should be actively engaged with people that care about our health and well-being. Being silent, particularly given the many challenges that we face could be fatal, as, like the African American proverb says, “Closed mouths don’t get fed.”

Sources
Black Male Suicide: A Silent Epidemic
https://www.forbes.com/sites/mayarichard-craven/2023/10/02/black-male-suicide-a-silent-epidemic/?sh=3849bdd74602

Black Men Have the Shortest Lifespans of Any Americans. This Theory Helps Explain Why.
https://www.propublica.org/article/black-men-have-the-shortest-lifespans-of-any-americans-this-theory-helps-explain-why

Cumulative stress in African American men may contribute to prostate cancer health disparity
https://news.llu.edu/health-wellness/cumulative-stress-african-american-men-may-contribute-prostate-cancer-health-disparity

Climate disasters as social entropy

Over time, the capacity of states to respond to climate disasters will diminish. The frequency and scale of those disasters will increase, eventually resulting in a situation that has already become normal in some parts of the US and the world, wherein people–living in the milieu of partial recoveries–struggle to carry on their lives in the midst of the detritus of environmental catastrophe. The long-term consequence of this, of course, will be a decrease in security, health, and well-being. These things are, I believe, inevitable. However, actions can be taken to reduce these vulnerabilities and to make local communities more resilient and self-reliant.

10 Questions for so-called Black Native Americans (i.e., those who deny that we are of African descent)

1. If our ancestors aren’t African, why do we primarily have West African haplotypes? https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC4048334/

2. Why do we eat African foods? How did these crops get to the Americas? https://learningenglish.voanews.com/a/how-enslaved-africans-influenced-american-diet/4816356.html

Why is our diet not identical to the Native American diet? Consider, for instance their relationship to corn in contrast to ours?

3. Why do we speak a language (AAVE or Ebonics) that has African syntax, rather than the syntax of Native American languages? https://www.academia.edu/17776766/Africanisms_in_Contemporary_English

4. What is this and how did it come to America? https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Banjo#/media/File:Bluegrass_banjo.png

5. The earliest Muslims in the US were Blacks. Where did they come from? How did they get here? They said that they were brought on slave ships. They actually told their stories. Were they mistaken or confused? https://nyupress.org/9781479847112/servants-of-allah/

6. Many Africans in the 18th and 19th Century used the term African in the organizations. Examples include the African Lodge, the African Methodist Episcopal Church, the First African Church. Many of those who lived during these times were taken directly from Africa or had forbears that were. Were they mistaken? Were they confused?

7. Many African Americans gave their children African names. Why didn’t they give them Native American names? Were they confused about where they came from? https://www.encyclopedia.com/history/encyclopedias-almanacs-transcripts-and-maps/names-and-naming-african

8. Many Africans wrote narratives of the experience of enslavement. Where are the period narratives that affirm that we are, in fact, native to the US?

9. If we are native to the US, are Afro-Cubans, Afro-Brazilians, Jamaicans, Haitians, Afro-Columbians, etc.? If so, why does so much of their culture also derive from Africa? Such similarities defies coincidence do they not?

10. Why are our fighting traditions African-based? Why aren’t these methods of fighting found amongst Africans and not the indigenous population of the Americas? https://uscpress.com/Fighting-for-Honor

The reality is that our relationship with the indigenous population has been complicated. We have collaborated with them (i.e., in instances of insurrection), extirpated them (i.e., as in the legacy of the Buffalo Soldiers), and been exploited by them (i.e., as in slavery). However, we are not them. We are Africans.

To quote Edward Wilmot Blyden, “Your place has been assigned you in the universe as Africans, and there is no room for you as anything else.” The embrace of such a sublime reality as our inherent Africanness is the very foundation to our regeneration as a people.