Tag: liberation

Cultural logics and the “universal”

I could be mistaken, but it seems that the Western appeals to the universal, while relevant in informing a discourse on equality within the civic arena, have also served as a medium for the colonization of the ontologies and epistemologies of racialized and oppressed peoples. In this way, one might argue (and indeed, Imari Obadele did) that appeals to reform of the existing state apparatus and its default posture of coercive control towards African people, is also a ceding to that state a degree of unwarranted legitimacy.

The alternative to reform, sovereignty, that is Black nationalism, is generally regarded as both illegitimate and unrealistic. However notions of its legitimacy reside with one’s view on the basic question of whether African Americans have a right to self-determination. And history has demonstrated up until this point, and without a shadow of a doubt, that reforming America in such a way as to eradicate the vestiges of anti-Black racism within the society, its vast institutions, and its practices and beliefs continues to be an unrealistic end.

Therefore I maintain that the appeal to the universal obfuscates more than it clarifies. African people have a unique quandary, requiring a unique set of solutions. Solutions that are predicated upon cultural logics issuing forth from an African-centered orientation to reality.

2009 interview in Shiai Magazine on the African fighting arts, Kawaida theory, survival training, and community transformation

Shiai Magazine: Who is actually Kamau Rashid? Talk about your life and martial arts experiences?

Kamau Rashid: Well I’m originally from the South Side of Chicago. Growing up in Chicago in the 80s and 90s left an indelible mark on me. On one hand this was a point where the crime rate, especially the murder rate was quite high. There was a pervasive consciousness of mortal danger. This was especially so in some of the neighborhoods where I lived and went to school.

On the other hand, this environment seemed to foster a certain type of critical consciousness. It was an environment where one could readily see the contradictions between the ethos of American society and its actual practices. After a while I found myself encountering a lot of people who possessed varying degrees of political consciousness.  These encounters, coupled with my growing intellectual pursuits, and the daily struggle to stay alive all helped to mold me in certain ways.

When I finally went to college in the early 1990s I was able to pursue my intellectual interests without constraint. This allowed for me to foster a critical, and eventually an African-Centered world view.

It was also at this point that I began my study of the martial arts. It is fair to say that I had an acute awareness of the need to be capable of defending oneself based on my years in Chicago. I began my training with an eclectic group, one that blended Western Boxing, Karate, Akido, Ju-Jitsu, and Greco-Roman Wrestling. This style helped me to develop an appreciation for simplicity and comprehensiveness in a fighting system. I should say that this was prior to the advent of the mixed-martial arts. I trained with this group for a couple of years before moving on.

Eventually, I graduated from college, returned to Chicago, and developed a strong interest in the African martial arts. I had learned about a Capoeria group that trained on the South Side of Chicago. But they met on Saturdays, which was a work day for me. Eventually I decided to postpone pursuing the African arts and at the recommendation of a colleague of mine I began studying Wing Chun Kung Fu.

Wing Chun Kung Fu was a great experience for me. It helped me to see an even greater depth of simplicity in the art (or science) of combat. Moreover, this was my first introduction to combat theory. It was from this experience that my understanding of the martial arts began to mature.

A few years later (during the early part of the 2000s) I went back to school to obtain my doctoral degree. I used my return to college to get a lot of low-cost training. So I studied Choy Lay Fut Kung Fu and the mixed-martial arts. I also got introduced to Kali stick fighting and some Jeet Kune Do around this time.

It was also during this time that I decided to renew my pursuit of the African arts. After a false start, I eventually hooked up with Ahati Kilindi Iyi and attended his domestic camp in 2005. While there I also met Mestre Preto Velho. This basically started me down the path of dealing substantively with the African arts. Since then I’ve trained in Capoeira pretty consistently, though I have become something of a Capoeira hobo of late.

Of late I’ve sought balance in my training. This means seeking proficiency in all of the various dimensions of combat. My principle goals once again are simplicity and comprehensiveness.

Shiai Magazine: What can sociology help in African American society and black society in general, can vain theories really indeed help the African/black races to have self esteem and determination?

Kamau Rashid: Sociology is essentially the study of society. It is an attempt to understand the various social and historical forces that act upon us and shape our lives. Central to the Sociological process is theory. In Sociology theories serve as statements that attempt to explain or predict phenomenon.

I maintain that Sociology can indeed by useful in the transformation of African people. That is, if we develop and employ an African-Centered Sociology.

There are a number of social theories that have been offered by African-Centered scholars that are of critical importance. One that readily comes to mind is Maulana Karenga’s Kawaida Theory. Kawaida theory starts from the basic premise that the core crisis in African life is the cultural crisis and challenge. It continues that Africans must reconstruct their culture using the best elements of African culture, and then use this emancipatory culture to galvanize us in reshaping the world in our image and interest.

When we take the ideas of Kawaida and begin to look critically at the numerous, vexing issues that plague the African American community we can certainly problematize the role of maladaptive cultural responses that contribute unwittingly to this malaise. One very prominent example is the soaring murder rate among young African American males. This is occurring despite the fact that murder has declined among nearly every other segment of the American population.

The question becomes, what makes us so unique? Well, our estrangement from our own culture via the ravages of the Maafa is simply unprecedented. The process of enslavement was critical in problematizing the humanity of Africans. As such, not only did Europeans construct a grand narrative as to the utter inferiority of Africans, they also possessed the power to impose this wholly deficient worldview upon us. Thus they created the malaise that W.E.B. Du Bois referred to as Double Consciousness, the tragic state of being African, yet seeing oneself through the eyes of Europeans.

Kawaida insists that we must see the world through African eyes. Kawaida insists that our grand historical narrative be one that exemplifies the dignity and nobility of Africans’ struggle against tyranny. It also insists that Africans who are taught to see themselves as having a sacred duty to promote good, fairness, and justice in the world would be disinclined to kill one another over gang affiliations, drug territory, having one’s gym shoes stepped on accidentally, or any of the other reasons why we take the lives of our fellow Brothers and Sisters. People who see themselves as being the quintessential expressions of a valued and sacred humanity work to elevate their collective condition. This is quite the contrary of what many of us are doing in our homes, neighborhoods, and communities.

So yes, an African-Centered Sociology can indeed inform how we might address our basic problems. If we use a Kawaida approach for instance, we might eschew the mis-guided practices of conspicuous consumption and atomistic individualism and instead work tirelessly and collectively to build viable families and communities.
Shiai Magazine: You say that your a survival instructor and that you help many blacks to survive in the society, against what? What is exactly the Black Survival Network indeed?

Kamau Rashid: The Black Survival Network is an organization that was established thirty years ago to train the African community in the United States in the science of disaster awareness and preparedness. Our concerns have been driven by many things, but most recently the interrelated environmental crises of peak oil, water scarcity and global warming. It is quite apparent that these crises each have the capacity to threaten the survival of the human species in general, and Africans in particular.

Conscious Africans need to recognize that our survival will only be assured if we are prepared to deal with the uncertainties of the future. The mission of the Black Survival Network is to train Africans to deal with those unknowns.

Shiai Magazine: Since you practices several martial arts systems and styles you know very much implication and role of Africa and black community in the heritage of martial arts and sports combat in general. Why all a sudden the urge and need of the promotion of African Martial arts in the entire diaspora community be it America, Brazil, Jamaica and so forth?

Kamau Rashid: I think that many of us want to gain a better understanding of the African contribution to the martial arts. This is certainly another nuance in the oft-neglected and unknown historical and cultural legacy of African humanity.

Personally, I always felt a small sense of dissonance training in non-African arts. I realized that the rituals, languages, and protocols were from the particular experiences of that style’s progenitors, be they Chinese, Japanese, etc. I knew that these styles invoked and revered their cultural ancestors. Well, this lead me to a basic question: what was the martial tradition of our warriors? We certainly invoke the names of Taharka, Nzingha, Shaka, Zumbi, and others, but this invocation often doesn’t move to the level of tactics and technique. How did they fight? And why were they so effective? Well, you can’t begin to answer this question until you study these systems rigorously.

Fortunately, some people have embarked on the difficult journey of discovering and teaching the African martial way. This is what I like to call the African Warrior Tradition. As our collective understanding of these martial systems has grown, so too has the fervor to disseminate this information.

There’s another dimension too. I think that its wedded to the belief the African martial arts can facilitate a cultural transformation in the minds, bodies, and spirits of our people. Mestre Preto Velho, Baba Balogun, and others have expressed this sentiment. This may also fuel the fervor with which some of us are attempting to promote these arts.
Shiai Magazine: Tell us the differences between Kung fu and Capoeira, both systems demands movements, flow, agility, speed and strength but what makes differences between African and Asian martial arts systems?

Kamau Rashid:  This is an excellent question. I think that any martial system bears the indelible mark of the culture that created that system. Its history, political-economy (social institutions), aesthetic sensibilities, language, and ethos (collective psychology) all shape this.

People have to understand this. One cannot understand traditional Jiu-Jitsu outside of understanding feudal Japan. One cannot understand Tai Chi without contextualizing it relative to Taoist philosophy. Lastly, one cannot understand Capoeira without understanding cultural dynamics and political history of central and southwestern Africa; as well as the horrors of the Maafa, and African resistance to enslavement in Brazil. I know that a lot of people try to lift martial arts outside of their attendant cultural moorings, but this is impossible and impractical.

With regards to movement, flow, speed, and agility—the Chinese arts, though often fluid and organic, manifest a different quality than the dynamism manifested in the African arts. I am not speaking here of one way being superior or inferior to another. I am simply noting a core difference.

For instance, Capoeira is an art that uses semi-perpetual motion in the form of the Ginga to generate linear and lateral energy. Every technique that the Capoeirista launches draws from this force. The Ginga is central to the body mechanics needed for proper power generation when striking. Also, the flow of motion and energy is constant. It doesn’t stop. The Capoeirista moves seamlessly from evasion to attack to attack to evasion to attack and so forth. Capoeira is omni-directional. The capoeirista may launch a kick to the head that misses, move into a ground position to give the impression of being defensive, and launch another kick or sweep from the ground in the opposite direction. Thus, the adept fighter can strike or move in any direction at any time. There is an organicity in Capoeira that cannot be described. It has to be seen or experienced.

Now what I’ve just described may be similar in some respects to the Chinese arts, but still different. I’ll use Choy Lay Fut Kung Fu as an an example. Similar to Capoeira, Choy Lay Fut attempts to use a lot of circular power. It relies on continual attack and uses the shifting of the stance to generate power. Though, unlike Capoeira, Choy Lay Fut’s power source isn’t semi-perpetual motion. It is the movement from one stance to another. This creates a footwork that is substantially less dynamic and mobile than Capoeira’s Ginga. Whereas the Capoeirista trains to see the potential attack in any situation (standing, kneeling, falling, etc.), Choy Lay Fut’s body of techniques does not produce the same range of possibilities. Also, Choy Lay Fut, like most striking arts relies primarily on the horizontal plane of combat. That is, it focuses on using distance to moderate the types attacks that one would use in a given situation. Capoeira uses the horizontal and vertical planes. Meaning that the Capoeirista may moderate their attack based on distance from an opponent, and height in relation to the ground. Thus in Capoeira, the ground is employed as an offensive space. Choy Lay fut does this to a very limited extent, but lacks Capoeira’s mobility on the ground level. To be sure, there are some Chinese arts that make a more robust use of this vertical plane, however I would maintain that Capoeira’s uses of linear and lateral power gives it a different striking platform than these other arts.

I guess the essence of it is that the African martial arts, as reflected by Capoeira have a substantially different principle of motion. It is a principle that is rhythmical, spontaneous, and intuitive. Also, they derive from the historical and cultural reality of African humanity.

As someone who has trained in both African and Chinese arts, I must say that I feel more at home doing Capoeira. This is not say that I don’t still practice these various non-African systems, but I have a substantial cultural and aesthetic appreciation for Capoeira as an African fighting system.

Shiai Magazine: You have created the African Warrior Tradition which is an online discussion forum based African military, martial arts and African resistances, why the need of creating such a discussion group? Do you think that African Warrior Tradition should evolved and become a true organization promoting African Warrior heritage and culture?

Kamau Rashid: I was compelled to create the African Warrior Tradition for several reasons. First, many of the on-line discussion forums focused on the African arts have de-evolved into extremely divisive discussions regarding authenticity, or have taken on a very fundamentalist bent. To be sure, we do need to address matters of authenticity. However, we can do this in a civilized fashion. In some instances this was not occurring.

In other instances people were dealing with the African arts in an isolated manner. Whether this was having one group focused on continental arts and another on diasporic arts. I felt that we needed to address these matters comprehensively.

I’m not sure if this group should or could spawn a viable, international organization. However I think that it can contribute to such an effort. Ultimately I think that such a development should draw upon a cross-section of interests, entities, institutions, and individuals. Unfortunately I’m not sure if my group, the  African Warrior Tradition, has become the public commons for this diverse and growing community. Suffice it to say, I would be immensely supportive of such an initiative.

Shiai Magazine: Is it true that you are creating your own martial arts system based on your experiences?

Kamau Rashid: Yes, I am attempting to synthesize my varied martial arts knowledge. This system, which I’m calling Sbayt Nkht, or “instructions for the attainment of victory” in the language of the ancient Kmt (Egypt), is a dynamic synthesis of everything that I know. I’ve attempted to use the ideas of simplicity and comprehensiveness as a core philosophy. Its really just a reflection of how I train myself and my son. It’s an attempt to give added structure to something I’ve been doing informally.

Shiai Magazine: Have you been to Africa or other areas in the world where the African diasporas are found? Are you not thinking to create network in other parts in the world?

Kamau Rashid: Unfortunately I have not been to Africa yet. I have been to Belize in central America. You have a strong African community there called the Garifuna. While I was in Belize I did not inquire as to the existence or nature of their fighting arts. I hope to do this in the future. However, I do believe that it is absolutely necessary that we build a global network around the African martial arts.

Shiai Magazine: Any future projects in which you will like to talk about?

Kamau Rashid: Right now I’m focused on three objectives. One, concretizing Sbayt Nkht and in the process streamlining and enhancing my own training. Two, continuing to network with other like-minded Africans via the Internet and conferences. There’s a great deal of energy out there right now that I think we need to channel. Third, I have a series of children’s stories that I want to publish sometime in 2010. Many of these stories are set in ancient Africa and depict the African Warrior Tradition in various contexts whether it be hand-to-hand or armed combat. I think that African youth need an African-Centered and compelling body of action literature that can excite their imagination about our historical legacy much like other children possess.

Shiai Magazine: As the founder of the African Warrior Tradition what is the role and implication of the African warrior in the black society and the entire world society? Many blacks says that they are warriors but they are same to sell drugs  and weapons in streets and encourage prostitution? Can our children follow the true spirit of African warrior beliefs?

Kamau Rashid: When we look at traditional and ancient African societies, the warrior was expected to safeguard the welfare of the society. Whether this meant taking to the battlefield or working the farm, the warrior’s obligation was to his or her people.

The people in our communities who prey on other Africans are not warriors. They are parasites. I know that some people say that these are not parasites, they are simply wayward warriors and the like. The problem with this notion is that it assumes that intelligence, wisdom, or basically common sense lies strictly within the purview of the politically or culturally conscious; and that if the politically and culturally conscious were to bestow their lofty wisdom upon the present-day drug dealer, pimp, child abuser, etc. that they will be magically transformed into whole human beings…whole African men and women. Clearly this is problematic. Firstly, we don’t have any monopoly on common sense. Even the most wayward member of the African community knows the difference between right and wrong. There may be a small minority to whom this doesn’t apply, but for the most part most of know on a basic level whether our actions are morally just or unjust. Secondly, everyone is not necessarily responsive to information or ideas. America is steeped in anti-intellectualism. Many people go out of their way to avoid thinking at all costs. Thus, reasoning with and cajoling people into acting in a manner that we deem is appropriate will only be effective with some, but not all.

So where does that leave us. What seems to have the greatest capacity to regulate human behavior is culture. Culture consists of many dimensions, however three in particular that are imperatives for ours (or any other community) are norms, sanctions, and values. Norms are the standards of behavior deemed appropriate or necessary by the community. Sanctions are the rewards or punishments that people receive for complying with or disobeying the norms. Values are our collective concepts of good and bad.

You see our problem is that we have failed to embrace a cultural system that promotes a functional and collectively beneficial set of norms. We have failed to develop and maintain a social structure that is capable of carrying out sanctions. We have also been remiss in promoting the values that are most relevant to our collective welfare and development.

When these things are in place, people naturally become warriors. They naturally develop a desire to sacrifice (to give of themselves) for the sake of our collective survival. They seek the skills, knowledge, and resources that are consistent with the expression of these values in the world.

So, yes, we must create warriors. But our paradigm of warriorhood must be informed by the best of global African culture.

Shiai Magazine: Why so much popularity of African Martial Arts? There are several books being published based on the topic by several famous african martial artist. There are also several african martial arts festivals and events being organized.There is even several african martial arts magazines be it printed, online, DVD or on TV. And finally two main film projects on the topic “The Way” starring Khalil Maasi a Ray Muhammed film  in the United States and MoneyBag starring Joe ATEBA an Aurelien Henry OBAMA film in Cameroon?

Kamau Rashid: I think that many people feel that its time for us to tell our story. This is true in many regards. But as it relates to the martial arts, I think that people are increasingly cognizant of the need for us to represent ourselves in a dignified and inspiring way. A way that compels us to reflect deeply about who we have been, who we are, and where we as a people need to go.

I think that this is related to several broader thrusts. First, is the maturation of the African-Centered Movement in the United States. This movement, which has grown out of the cultural nationalist thrust of the 1960s, has been central in calling for greater study, reclamation, institutionalization, and practice of African culture. Second, may be the increasing heterogeneity of the visible martial arts scene. Forty years ago people knew about martial arts coming form China and Japan, but they may not have known about much beyond that. Today people are aware of Thai arts, Indonesian arts, Fillipino arts, Russian arts, etc. People are literally mining the world for its marital arts traditions. In fact there have been at least two television shows dedicated to this quest. This may be leading more and more of us to say “well if all of these other people have martial arts, then what about Africans”? Third is probably our (Africans’) incessant quest to be self-determining, self-affirming, and self-defining, and the imperative of sharing this consciousness with other Africans. So for many of us the African martial arts become a rites-of-passage system, it becomes a value system, ultimately it becomes mechanism of socialization. I think that many of us believe that we can use these systems, as well as a broader African cultural construct, to transform our people.

Shiai Magazine: As an elite and high personality in an african martial arts community, what advice can you give the to african child who wants to fulfill his dream be it in martial arts or any field of life knowing that is very hard among african people to succeed in life?


Kamau Rashid: Well I wouldn’t consider myself an elite or anything like that. However, if I were to offer any advice to a young African aspiring for success in life I would say that you should always walk the path of self-mastery. Seek to eradicate your fears. Surround yourself with positive and challenging opportunities that will give you a greater depth of self-knowledge. Also, build healthy relationships with elders, teachers, etc. who are capable to guiding down the path that you seek to walk. It always important to remember that difficult does not mean impossible, success is always attainable if you are sufficiently determined.

Shiai Magazine: What is your opinion on Shiai Magazine and work of Aurelien Henry OBAMA?

Kamau Rashid: I think that Shiai Magazine is a noble and positive effort. I applaud Bro. Aurelian’s work to bring the African martial arts to the forefront. We need to support and sustain his work.

Shiai Magazine: Any last words?

Kamau Rashid: Thanks for requesting this interview. Its been an honor to participate in your admirable work.

Shiai Magazine: Thank you brother Kamau Rashid in accepting our interview, we hope oneday to receive you in Cameroon “Africa Miniature”, God bless you and let our ancestors guide your path!

Kamau Rashid: Thanks Bro. Aurelien. I’d love to visit Cameroon. I look forward to our continued collaboration. I wish you immeasurable success in your endeavors.

Being on the path: Meditations on Living and Re-Africanization

I am convinced that when we are on the path, when we are doing the things that we are supposed to be doing, we are consistently presented with reminders of the correctness of the direction in which we are moving. I received three such reminders in the last two days.

Reminder one: Today while working at my wife’s community training farm, a six year old boy asked me, “How do Africans fight?” I found his question intriguing, not only that he asked it of me, but that he posed this question at all. I am not entirely sure why he posed this question to me. Maybe he overheard me talking to his mother about teaching Capoeira at his school years ago, and understood what I was talking about. Maybe he presumed that as an African man I should know something about this. I did start to build on his existing knowledge base of Kiswahili, so maybe he figured that I might know something about fighting too. In any event, I deeply appreciated his question, a question that I did not think to pose until I was a young adult.

I told him that there are different ways that Africans have approached fighting and that I could show him some. I asked him if he wanted to know something related to kicking, punching, or stick-fighting. He said punching, so I showed him something. If he’s serious, I may teach him some basic elements of the arts whenever we see one another in-between farm work.

Reminder two: Similarly, a brother who attends my Capoeira class with his daughter told me that he intends for her to be a fighting arts practitioner, and wants for her focus to be specifically on Capoeira, given that it is an African art. I was intrigued by this. He has studied multiple arts, and sees Capoeira as not merely a matter of technical application, that is the process of fending off violent attackers, but also as a matter of affirming one’s cultural identity. In this way, Capoeira can be understood as a combat art that also embodies the kinesthetic dynamics of several African cultures, thus it is the embodiment of a distinctly African philosophy of movement. It also represents the sprit and tactics of African resistance in the Americas.

Reminder three: A brother who attended the mdw nTr conference in October told me that he had been so inspired, that he intended to teach his then unborn daughter mdw nTr. Today I saw him and his young daughter. He told me, consistent with his earlier statement, that he speaks to her in mdw nTr and proceeded to speak do so. I also spoke to her in mdw nTr. My wife claims that she perked up when she heard the mdw nTr, but I can’t confirm this.

That this would happen the day after African Languages Day was most inspiring for me. While I do study African languages regularly, I have struggled to find time to study of late. However, yesterday my studies were inspired. While riding the train I read about and practiced (silently) two African languages. African Languages Day gave me the opportunity to affirm something that I know I am capable of, using our languages on a regular basis to communicate complex ideas. To my understanding, the greatest challenge that we face is one of transmission, that is of creating new speakers of these languages in our communities in the African Diaspora. Solving this problem is one to which I will continue to devote my time and energy, as we cannot truly communicate about an African worldview if such a discourse is mediated in an alien language and from a culture characterized by fundamental alienation.

Our people once they know that they are an African people, they subsequently want and desire to ground themselves in African things, to understand their reality from the paradigms of their ancestors, to reclaim our languages, to practice our fighting arts, and to—in all areas of life—be African. This is more than just a matter of identity, but is one of solving the paradigmatic problem implicit in liberatory struggles—that is one of decolonzing the minds of the people as a means of enabling them to win the physical struggle which is for land, their lives, and the future.

More subversive than physical fetters: W.E.B. Du Bois and Carter G. Woodson on the subjugation of African minds (an excerpt)

Central to the work of W.E.B. Du Bois and Carter G. Woodson was an on-going investigation of the context of terror visited upon Black bodies (Du Bos 2007a; Woodson 1990). For these scholars the assault upon African humanity was not merely a localized dilemma isolated to a marginal epoch of American history, rather it was a central process in the creation of America’s racialized social order, and beyond this, a key component in the modern global system wherein the humanity of African people was a secondary consideration to their utility as vehicles of or impediments to the acquisition of capital (Du Bois 2007b; Woodson 1990, 2004). Both Du Bois’s and Woodson’s work compels for us to look at the context of enslavement as a foundational moment in the erection of the contemporary power of the west. This process propelled the expansion and entrenchment of a domestic colonial project, in addition to fueling subsequent processes of conquest abroad. Within the domestic milieu, the political-economy of Black subordination via the system of state-sponsored racial subordination necessitated the implementation of an epistemic regime of terror (Du Bois 1978a, 1978b). This process has maintained a dual focus consisting of the oppression of Black bodies via instruments of coercive control, and the subjugation of Black minds via processes of mis-education (Du Bois 2002, Woodson 1990).

What must be asked is not whether this campaign has abated (it has not), but rather how a liberatory form of Black education might more effectively resist this assault? Du Bois and Woodson recognized that Black people, as ever, stand at the precipice, facing on one side a familiar tyranny and on the other a new world that exists just beyond the bounds of our knowing and the fruits of our unfettered social agency. As Du Bois queried in 1960, we must ask again, whither now and why (Du Bois 1973b)? Ultimately we must ponder to what extent has realization of liberation been obscured via the highly efficacious management of Black bodies and minds in the schools of America (Du Bois 1973a; Woodson 1933)?

Africans in America and the decolonization of language

I watched the PBS documentary Language Matters last night and was particularly struck by the efforts of native Hawaiians to preserve their language. They believed that without their languages, they would cease to exist as a distinct people.

While we have been stripped of our ancestral tongues, we, like any other people require a language that affirms our culture and our humanity. A language reinforces a sense of identity, a sense of tradition, even a sense of political destiny–this is why languages are such a prominent part of many nationalist movements around the world. Language revitalization has been a prominent feature of the efforts of many groups engaged in campaigns of self-determination such as the Basque (France and Spain), Maori (New Zealand), Welsh (UK), and so on. Language becomes a way of not only marking group identity, but of reinforcing the notion that a people has a shared history and destiny distinct from other cultural groups.

While Africa is home to more language diversity than any other place on Earth, and our ancestors doubtlessly spoke a myriad of languages, most African languages are more or less ethnic languages–that is the language of a single group. The exception to this are languages that have become diffused as the second language of a wider population. Some languages have become “lingua francas” within a single territory. Asante Twi and Wolof are examples of ethnic languages that have become diffused in their respective territories, Ghana and Senegal respectively.

Kiswahili and Hausa on the other hand have become diffused internationally, as each is spoken across territories and ethnic groups. Hausa speakers can be found in Nigeria, Niger, Ghana, Cote d’Ivoire, Cameroon, Chad, and Burkina Faso. According to Ethnologue, approximately fifteen million of Hausa’s over forty million speakers speak it as a second language

As the official language of Tanzania and Kenya, and as a second language in parts of Uganda, Mozambique, Congo, and elsewhere Kiswahili is perhaps the most effective example of an African language that has become more or less ethnically neutral as the vast majority of its speakers use it as a second language (approximately eighty million of its estimated ninety eight million speakers according to Ethnologue). Moreover, its adoption by many speakers (or aspiring speakers) in the African diaspora, and its common association with  Pan-Africanism adds a degree of conceptual or ideological import to Kiswahili that is absent in the broader perceptions of other African tongues. For instance, its association with various African liberation movements as reflected in common slogans such as “Uhuru sasa” (Freedom now), “Tutashinda bila shaka” (We will conquer without a doubt), “Elimu kwa kujitegemea” (Education for self-reliance), and terms such as kujichagulia (self-determination), imani (faith), ujamaa (familyhood), umoja (one-ness or unity) and so forth all capture the degree to which Kiswahili has been embraced as a language of liberation.

For these reasons and perhaps others, Kiswahili is perhaps best positioned to serve as a primary African language in the diaspora. It is not to say that other languages should not be studied. They should. The growing proliferation of Yoruba and Akan among diasporan Africans is both encouraging and interesting, so too the study of mdw nTr (Medew Netcher), the language of ancient kmt (Kemet) or Egypt. Yet despite this, Kiswahili’s broad diffusion, diversity of learning resources, development as a suitable tool for technical communication, ability to express ideas that are philosophically and conceptually germane to African cultures and communities, and relative neutrality make it a very attractive and viable candidate as the primary African language of the diaspora, in addition to being an auxiliary language for the African continent itself.

One feature of the film Language Matters was the strategy adopted by native Hawaiians to diffuse their language in the 1960s and 70s. They focused on educating small children to speak native Hawaiian. Linda Tuhiwai Smith has discussed a similar initiative among the Maori that centered on children as language learners given their facility for language acquisition. I believe that such a strategy is highly instructive for Africans in America that are desirous of seeing an African language such as Kiswahili becoming more widespread. While the Black Power era saw the diffusion of Kiswahili among Africans in America, the depth of this diffusion has been mostly limited to single terms and phrases. Thus it is not uncommon for someone to have knowledge of greetings such as “Habari gani?” (What’s the news?) or “Hujambo?” (How are you?), or to use statements of affirmation or negation such “ndiyo” (yes), “hapana” or “la” (no), or even “sijui” (I don’t know), to refer to familial roles such as baba (father), mama (mother), kaka (brother), or dada (sister), or to refer to concepts using the language such as the “Nguzo Saba” (the “Seven Principles”, as created by Dr. Maulana Karenga), “asili” (“essence” or “seed” as popularized by Dr. Marimba Ani’s book Yurugu), and so forth. What has been lacking has been an effective diffusion of knowledge sufficient to promote greater fluency in the language.

The movement from rudimentary linguistic knowledge to greater fluency begins with the requisite will and desire, and continues with the formation of a suitable institute devised to carry forth this charge on as broad a scale as possible. Such an institute can then coordinate the development of a body of highly-trained individuals who have attained a high degree of fluency in the language, the development of curricula for different age groups in the community, and the creation of an educational infrastructure in the form of classes and institutes. From this nucleus can also spring forth literature and other media designed to aid language learning. While the first item requires a substantial investment of time and effort, the second requires an understanding of effective language learning strategies for children and adults. The third necessitates a range of resources, both technical and spatial enabling knowledge to be diffused. For instance, the use of the internet as a vehicle of language learning cannot be understated. Dr. Obadele Kambon’s Abibitumikasa has become the premier African language learning institute with courses in Asante Twi, mdw nTr, Wolof, Yoruba, Kiswahili, and other languages. This resource and others should be effectively utilized. In the Chicago-area groups such as The Swahili Institute of Chicago , the Kemetic Institute of Chicago, and the Association for the Study of Classical African Civilizations Midwest Region are fine examples of what grassroots language institutes can aspire to accomplish (the latter two promote the learning of mdw nTr). Each of these organizations has also developed teaching and learning materials.

In closing, the diffusion of African languages in the Americas in fact is an act of cultural reclamation, a decolonization of the language of those whose estrangement from their ancestral homeland has made the quest for linguistic empowerment all the more fervent. The last fifty years illustrate the degree to which African languages have served the ends of spiritual enlightenment, scholarly inquiry, political education, and casual discourse. This process, despite its uneven outcomes to date, has been one that remains pregnant with possibility as it offers a path towards a potential decolonization of the African mind, a simpler means towards international communication within the global African community, and a mechanism to engage more fully with the deep thought of African culture as these are conveyed by language. As such language is a vital component in the process of Re-Africanization, but its effective utilization towards such an end can only be maximized via a greater degree of organization than what has yet transpired.

To this end, the creation of a Taasisi ya Kiswahili kwa Waafrika Merikani or a Swahili Institute for Africans in America will be a necessary step in this process. This must be followed by the creation of a scholarship fund and institutional connections to facilitate the training of a first generation of instructors. The third stage will be the creation of a body of instructional resources followed by the establishment of a network of instructional vehicles in the form of Saturday schools, after-school programs, rites-of-passage programs, and other mechanisms to teach primarily children, in addition to adults. This fourth stage should occur parallel to the fifth, which is the diffusion of literature (i.e., comics, fashion magazines, political education materials, scientific articles, art publications, news organs, and so on in the language so as to utilize it as a conduit of information. These steps are, I maintain, a process that can lead to both the institutionalization of Kiswahili (or any other African language) in the African diasporan community and its diffusion over the span of time.

Language and sovereignty

The acquisition of sovereignty is not simply a political process, in fact the actualization of statehood is one of the later stages of this arc of national development. One might argue that it begins more squarely in the minds of the people, in their conscious recognition of their right to be independent, to be the arbiters of their collective affairs. Part of the social psychology of nationalist struggle is embedded in the language that the people employ to express their aspirations for freedom.

Martin Delany, in his book The Condition, Elevation, Emigration, and Destiny of the Colored People of the United States,
writes:

In our own country, the United States, there are three million five hundred thousand slaves; and we, the nominally free colored people, are six hundred thousand in number; estimating one-sixth to be men, we have one hundred thousand able bodied freemen, which will make a powerful auxiliary in any country to which we may become adopted—an ally not to be despised by any power on earth. We love our country, dearly love her, but she don’t love us—she despises us, and bids us begone, driving us from her embraces; but we shall not go where she desires us; but when we do go, whatever love we have for her, we shall love the country none the less that receives us as her adopted children.

Delany establishes three major points in this passage. First is that we, African people in the U.S., are powerful force, one that is capable of contributing favorably to any society. Second is that we are loathed by that same society. That this loathing denies us comfort sufficient with equating this society with the intimacy and warmth that we associate with home. Third he advocates that we find a home, that we chart a future for ourselves free of the fetters of degradation.

Central to Delany’s advocacy for independence is the use of language as a way of demarcating the social milieu wherein such struggle is to waged. In so doing he articulates a very specific image of African Americans: A powerful collective, persecuted, yet aspiring towards a sovereign reality.

The second stage in the arc of national development is the formation of social movements for the acquisition of sovereignty. Two historical examples that illustrate this are the tradition of maroonage during the era of enslavement and the movement for the establishment of independent cities and towns in the immediate aftermath of enslavement’s supposed abolition. In each of these contexts the people, in word and deed, affirmed their right to be free. These actions were an outward manifestation of an underlying belief in the legitimacy of independence and the viability of sovereignty as a response to the oppressive state apparatus of U.S. society.

The maroon tradition is indicative of the unwillingness of Africans to acquiesce to European dominance. One apt example of this comes from the account of a maroon named Mango from Virginia. They state.

I escaped my master’s plantation. It was so easy. I tried to convince my close friends to leave with me. Only three did so […] To keep the remaining slaves in check, master told the slaves we were ruthless, unchristian and not to be trusted.

When we raided plantations, the slaves ran from us faster than the whites. We have twenty-seven men and twenty-eight women now. At one time we had as many as forty-eight men and thirty women before their deaths. We have lost only four men during raids and on the many plantations we have raided, we could only get six slaves to run with us. And they were all women. The whites will never catch us…

Mango expresses little ambiguity about the legitimacy of struggle against an oppressive system, of divesting that system of the human fuel that powers it. Mango’s account is simultaneously critical of the state apparatus and the mass of Europeans invested in its survival, as well as instructive of what is perceived to be the most practical response—independence and sovereignty.

Though the maroon movement is typically considered only a feature of the era of enslavement, the response of our people to continued oppression after enslavement’s supposed end reflects certain affinities with the maroons’ view. On April 17, 1880 Benjamin “Pap” Singleton, leader of the movement of Blacks to the western United States, was called to testify before Congress. When asked why he set out to establish this movement he stated:

Well, my people, for the want of land–we needed land for our children–and their disadvantages–that caused my heart to grieve and sorrow; pity for my race, sir, that was coming down, instead of going up–that caused me to go to work for them. I sent out there perhaps in ’66–perhaps so; or in ’65, any way–my memory don’t recollect which; and they brought back tolerable favorable reports; then I jacked up three or four hundred, and went into Southern Kansas, and found it was a good country, and I though Southern Kansas was congenial to our nature, sir; and I formed a colony there, and bought about a thousand acres of ground–the colony did–my people.

Here Singleton acknowledges the malaise of African people–incessant dehumanization and degradation. However he also articulates his view of the importance of land, that which Malcolm X said was the “basis of all independence”, and thus seeks to establish a land base for African people. Singleton stops short of waging war against the system set against African people (as advocated by the maroons), nor does he call for national independence (as does Delany), what he does however is to demonstrate the necessity and intelligence of creating the institutional framework requisite of any sovereign people.

Both of these accounts evidence the use of language in significant ways. Mango’s account exposes the oppressor as fallible and vulnerable in the face of opposition. He also demarcates the political sensibilities of the African masses as those who are willing to confront the enemy and those lacking in this resolve. He closes with a defiant assertion, “The whites will never catch us”, in effect stating that they will not be stopped. Likewise Singleton begins by framing the necessity of his actions in terms of futurity—“our children” and the absence of viable possibilities for their lives being a source of grief and sorrow. He also reveals that the Exoduster movement was not simply the effort of a charismatic, heroic individual, but a collective effort as he notes having received favorable reports from his agents of the suitability of Kansas for his people.

The third and fourth stages in the arc of national development are the creation of a sovereign state and the defense of that state from contrary forces. These are reflected in the Republic of New Africa’s New African Creed. For the sake of this discussion points 5, 6, and 8 are most relevant. These state:

5. I believe that the fundamental reason our oppression continues is that We, as a people, lack the power to control our lives.

6. I believe that the fundamental way to gain that power, and end oppression, is to build a sovereign Black nation.

8. I believe in the Malcolm X Doctrine; that We must organize upon this land and hold a plebiscite, to tell the world by a vote that We are free and our land independent and that after the vote, We must stand ready to defend ourselves, establishing the nation beyond contradiction.

These stages of struggle are interlinked. The realization of sovereignty necessitates a disruption of the existing apparatus of anti-African oppression, and as such represents a threat to the continued functioning of that system. Like Mango noted centuries ago, to deprive the existing system of African people—our labor, wealth, and our minds– is to deny it the fuel that drives it and enables our oppression. Thus the RNA clearly recognized that the most effective response to oppression is sovereignty, and that our efforts to attain sovereignty would not go uncontested.

We continue to refine our understanding of struggle, and this is reflected in our language and tactics. From “Uhuru Sasa” (“Freedom Now” in Kiswahili) in the 1960s to Abibifahodie (“Black Liberation” in Twi) today, language continues to be a contested domain, a frontier of struggle that reflects our efforts to define reality for ourselves. Ultimately language is more than a mere means of communication. It also becomes a way of demarcating space, reinforcing identity, and engaging in a process of symbol manipulation—that is the utilization of imagery for the sake of communicating certain ideas.

Language conveys layers of meaning, and these layers multiply as we move from colonial, to modern African, to classical African languages. The colonial languages are the existing frame via which we have sought to articulate much of our aspirations for freedom. These languages reflects the extent to which that struggle itself is embedded within the territorial context of European domination and the context of cultural penetration. The use of African languages within these struggles in the mid-20th Century represents both the contested nature of space—that we continued to reside in the spatial context of European domination, but that we had resolved to transform our culture to augment our capacity to resist it. These languages also symbolized a conscious process of re-Africanization, that is the reclamation of African culture in the wake European oppression. The growth of interest in the classical African language of 2nnamed001mdw nTr (Medew Netcher) in the late Twentieth Century represents an attempt to use language acquisition as a process to reconstruct and operationalize an African worldview as a prerequisite to both conceiving and actualizing a sovereign reality.

Language matters. It is not an idle consideration. Quite the contrary it reflects the cultural logics of liberatory struggle. Via the effective use of language we might at once identify the problem before us (the Maafa), articulate the most viable response, and convey the varied mechanisms through which this solution is implemented (such as kujitawala, a Kiswahili word which means self-governing or sovereignty). Language can be employed to tell us who we are, and by extension who we are not (such as the RNA’s “New African people”). Language can also capture the optimal condition to which we might aspire (such as Maat or mAat, which is, as Sebat Rkhty Amen states, “harmonious balance”). Language provides the conceptual canvas upon which our image of possibility is rendered.

Post-academia?

We need a new way of thinking about intellectual work which de-centers the academy and sees the community as its center. We must find ways to make this work compelling and viable for those of us who see our scholarship as more than a path to the awards of the university (i.e., tenure and promotion), but as ways of illuminating the hidden, awakening the dormant, enlivening the nascent, and ultimately reassembling our shattered humanities in the wake of the interrelated systems of white supremacy and capitalism. This also means that our teaching must be imagined and enacted, not as mere performativity, but as incubating the emancipatory potential of our students and ourselves.

We are, many of us, constrained by a university system that commodifies our knowledge, reduces the import of our teaching to its most superficial forms, and seeks to mine our bodies and minds for profitable ideas while paradoxically devaluing our labor through instruments of surveillance. In short, we need spaces that seeks to serve the unfettered ends of liberation. Moreover, I believe that we have models of this work emerging out of the social movements of the last half century which might inform this work, models which emerge from the grassroots rather than the centers of power who have so effectively redirected many of us from revolutionary struggle to the toil of survival and the banality of “victim analysis”.

We have failed to hold the “contested zones”. We are left with the task of creating new liberated zones, and making these the center of a new way of being.