“The race needs workers, not leaders”

“If the Negro could abandon the idea of leadership and instead stimulate a larger number of the race to take up definite tasks and sacrifice their time and energy in doing these things efficiently the race might accomplish something. The race needs workers, not leaders. Such workers will solve the problems which race leaders talk about and raise money to enable them to talk more and more about. When you hear a man talking, then, always inquire as to what he is doing or what he has done for humanity. Oratory and resolutions do not avail much. If they did, the Negro race would be in a paradise on earth. It may be well to repeat here the saying that old men talk of what they have done, young men of what they are doing, and fools of what they expect to do. The Negro race has a rather large share of the last mentioned class.”
-Carter G. Woodson, Mis-Education of the Negro

Woodson’s classic text offers a critical analysis of the malaise confronting African people. While the book is centrally concerned with education, or more specifically, mis-education and its deleterious impact on the Black mind, the book also concerns itself with two other things–institutional formation and leadership. Woodson recognized that institutions are the bulwark of a community and a key agent in shaping its future. Further, and in relation to the above statement, he maintained that leadership was an indispensable element in the process of community transformation. He lamented a tendency which he observed, that of Black leadership which fails to distinguish itself through its contributions to community institutions or its central role in the day-to-day work of community development, but instead grounded itself in the rhetorical as if words alone might free us. 

Sadly what Woodson observed in the early 20th Century, persists in our day where a certain class of Black leadership, having garnered a degree of popularity via social media, distinguishing itself via its rhetorical ability, remains largely inefficacious in the arena of work that Woodson championed. He recognized, just as this lamentable class of Black leadership has, that talk is far, far easier than action.

One of the things that Baba Hannibal Afrik would always emphasize was the primacy of work on behalf of African people. While he too was eloquent and deeply insightful, he did not prioritize talk divorced from actual labor. For him, the famous expression from the Black Power Movement, “Kazi is the Blackest of all” always rang true. What’s more, it served as a standard against which he measured himself and others.

I offer this as an alternative metric whereby we might assess leadership, its nature, and value. We should not only listen to the words of those who profess to be leaders, position themselves as such, or are positioned by others in this vein; but we should also examine their track record, their history as leaders. We should ask questions like what organizations are they a part of? What role(s) do they play in these organizations? Is the work of these organizations impactful or are these simply vehicles for rhetorical signification and posturing? What institutions are they a part of? What role do they play in these institutions? What role do these institutions play in our community? Do they function on behalf of the community in any measurable way?

Ultimately we should ask what value these “leaders” bring to our community beyond their words? If we cannot answer this question in the affirmative, it may serve us well to focus our efforts and attention on things that may prove more durable.

Again, Woodson argued that our people need workers, rather than leaders. While the latter has continually proven its ability to garner attention and mis-direct our collective focus. The former has been and remains our greatest asset in struggle.

Languages and revolution

One of the most interesting aspects of the revitalization of African languages among African Americans has been that these languages have been used as vehicles of revolutionary political, economic, and cultural discourse prior to having become institutionalized as daily means of mundane communication. Examples abound, such as ujamaa, sankɔfa, aṣe (axe in Brazil), Htp (Hotep), asante, abibifahodie, mAat (Maat), kujichagulia, and so forth. While these terms have entered the African American lexicon, they have become islands of African cultural practice in that most often we lack even a rudimentary fluency in the languages in question.

While our use of African terminology (including greetings and the like) is a very positive development, we must go the necessary step further of institutionalizing these languages as tools of daily communication. Of the languages featured above (Kiswahili, Twi, Yoruba, and mdw nTr (Medu Netcher), Kiswahili’s existing status as an international language make it the most attractive as a Pan-African language; Twi and Yoruba (to say nothing of Igbo, Kikongo, Wolof, and so forth) are important as languages which facilitate cultural (re)connection or re-Africanization given the West and West-central African origins of most African Americans; and mdw nTr is best positioned to serve as our classical African language, providing an epistemological framework that will aid in the decolonization of both ourselves as well as the language(s) that we adopt.

It should be clarified that I am not arguing that these languages are destinations unto themselves, rather that they are vehicles that might facilitate our movement from where we presently are towards where we desire to be. As such, the movement beyond our present use of African languages towards greater fluency may facilitate a range of unanticipated developments. The Maori of New Zealand have found that the revitalization of their language has led to a renewed interest in their indigenous technologies among other things. We might “discover” models of governance that aid us in our organizational work and professional lives. We might reclaim models of economic organization wherein women controlled major sectors of economic activity as a means of ensuring their self-determination–which helps in the larger ujamaa project that we are engaged in. We might acquire paradigms of marriage that are beyond the relatively superficial bases that are normalized in the West, which often leads to the formation of unstable family units. We might put into practice methods of struggle that augments the depth of our vision and refines the intelligence of our methods. We might devise new ways of understanding ourselves, our community, and our movement through time and space. In short, the serious study of African languages could be nothing less than revolutionary.