Monday 21 November 2016



Corrosive effect of the quest for raw power in our politics

Tebogo Gantsa
August 2016

In the hurly-burly of local government elections there are things we can ill-afford to overlook. One of these is the emergence of the quest for raw power as an increasingly important factor in the evolution of this country’s democratic dispensation and the deleterious effects it poses to society.

In understanding how power fits in the scheme of things we have to imagine its existence in two ways. The first is the exercise of institutional power in ways that affect communities and society in general. The second is the interaction that individuals have with social institutions, the kind which suggests their acknowledgement of those institutions as sites of social power. 

The proposition made here is that social power can and is sometimes used in ways that affect society negatively.

Two examples that can assist us are two very related events. The first is the changing nature of social violence. A version of this is the form that has gained the tag “political violence”. An example of this is the assassination of candidates contesting the local government elections.

 The second is the apparent use of procedural mechanisms embedded in social institutions in a way that suggests that public institutions can be used to dispense social power for private individual gains, to benefit a select few. This is institutional violence and is not as benign as it sounds.

One example of this is an incident where an official in the employ of a provincial government is alleged to have engineered a situation where he gained considerably from the sale of provincial land earmarked for social housing. 

That these two incidents appear to be perpetrated by actors belonging to political rivals, i.e. the ruling party on the one hand and the official opposition on the other, might mask their interrelated nature. It could hide the fact that the one – social violence, is a means and the other – institutional violence , the objective end. 

The above scenario suggests that there is a schism between what can be construed as an attempt by citizens to use democratic means to gain effective control of their communities and the way that the power in social institutions is exercised and who stands to derive value. 

While citizens endeavour to give more meaning to participatory democracy on the one end, the social institutions created by the very democracy are increasingly being transformed into tools designed to undermine their aspirations.

 One must hasten to say that this is not a phenomenon that came with the democratic dispensation, far from it.  It is rather a continuation of the status quo ante, how social institutions were designed during apartheid. The only difference is that there is less emphasis on their racial character, a dilution which can be attributed to the universal suffrage that is now in operation.

The danger that this quest for raw power brings is that it lays bare the social iniquities in South African society. These iniquities are reinforced rather than ameliorated by social and institutional violence.

It creates a situation where the life-chances of a person, a family or sections of a given community literaly hinge on how they align themselves with the sites where social power is dispensed and exercised. And they do so knowing very well that although this democracy of ours calls on multitudes, it actually chooses a select few when the time to feast arrives.

Sunday 20 November 2016



Discourse and the creation of the Other: Understanding the Rwandan Genocide
Tebogo Gantsa
October 2016
©2008 Jon Warren/World Vision

There are few ways anyone can make sense of the soul-gouging events that happened between April and June 1994 in Rwanda. It is in reflecting, in hindsight, that it was the end of an exceptionally violent century. The twentieth century was the century of the horrors of Sharpeville, Hiroshima and Nagasaki, Auschwitz, Belgian Congo, Vietnam, Palestine, apartheid and many others. It gives no comfort to know that there were many repetitions of similar horrors across the globe, with each instance etching soul-gouging memories on fresh victims and possibly through multiple generations. The century was not just about brutality and violence. It was about brutality and violence visited on the Other.

Because of the significance of commentary on events such as the Rwandan genocide, the conversations are necessarily broad and wide-ranging.  In this discussion the attempt is to put a few benign strictures to avoid being led to temptation. This means our conversation will be in three parts. The first will be a treatment of discourse and society. In the second part we will deal with conceptual issues that limit understanding of the third world and possible remedies to that problem. In the last part and by way of conclusion we will knit the two previous parts and show why they help us understand the Rwandan genocide. Throughout the discussion we will use assistance from the work of Michel Foucault, Archie Mafeje and Mahmood Mamdani respectively.
 I
Society is a construct. Discourse features in this construct in that it allows for society to account for its existence. Everything about it presents itself through discourse such that without it (discourse), no society could have knowledge of itself. Here it is crucial that we make a distinction between discursive events (human-human or human-universe) and discourse. The first difference is that discursive events are boundless by space and time. The second is that, while discursive events could be ‘meaning-creating’, the radioactive nature of those meanings disqualifies them from being regarded as knowledge in the normative sense. Discourse on the other hand begins where the epistemological project of what constitutes knowledge begins. This distinction is important. It means that at the point where there is a break away from discursive events to discourse there is corresponding knowledge that can be construed as a reference point. In this way it is possible to locate discourse both spatially and historically.  

We now need to explore how the interplay between society and discourse unfolds. In his inaugural lecture at College de France in 1970 Michel Foucault proposes that “in every society the production of discourse is at once controlled, selected, organised and redistributed by a certain number of procedures”(Young,1981:52). In this sense society and discourse do not appear due to some fortuitous coincidence. What he suggests is that at every moment there is a consciousness involved in the efforts expended by a given society in what it wants to be known, particularly about itself. This makes the production of discourse a serious undertaking. In the same passage he goes on to quip that the entire process of control, selection and redistribution of discourse is calculated “to to ward off its dangers and powers, to gain mastery over its chance events”. The use of the word redistribution is important. What it alludes to is that the production of discourse is purpose driven. He ties this to the exercise of social control by society through its institutions. His point is that discourse is in many ways an exercise of power, especially the power to exclude, limit, repress, etc. If one uses his proposed archaeological method of discourse analysis, one discovers a genealogy that traces changes in discourse through history and the related changes in the exercise of power(Foucault, 1980). 

This unmasking of the discourse-power relationship assists us in making sense of the violence that is visited on the Other. An example that comes to mind is how a political philosopher such as John Stuart Mill can preach melodiously about freedom in On Liberty and still be able to conjure a rationale for the colonial violence in India in his works on representative government. Because the production of discourse is conscious, the creation of the Other is deliberate. Think for instance of how slavery, colonialism and racism were undergirded by volume upon volume of discourse that rationalize them which passed as acceptable and credible knowledge. What we have here is discourse that creates and recreates the Other and a perpetual state alterity. This is what Edward Said refers to as colonial discourse. The Other is possible only through a violent discourse-power dynamic that strips away what is human. What remains is then “fixed” and “redistributed” as normative. Homi Bhabha tells us that “fixity, as the sign of cultural/historical/racial difference in the discourse of colonialism, is a paradoxical mode of representation: it connotes rigidity and an unchanging order as well as disorder, degeneracy and daemonic repetition”(BhaBha, 1994:66). In fact Foucault makes a passing remark, in an interview prior to his Debate on Human Nature with Noam Chomsky, akin to saying that it seems as if the cultures, histories and livelihoods of other peoples have to be destroyed before the Other can be known.

II
In the previous part of our discussion we said the discourse-power dynamic is expressed through social institutions. In this part we explore the global community as an arena where such power is exercised. What we seek to do primarily, is to grapple with the notion of “global confusion” which is sometimes used in describing the international response to the Rwandan genocide. Here we concern ourselves with some aspects of discourse in this arena which might have led to limitations in understanding.
The proposition being made here is that global institutions are not only wound up but also trapped in a closed discourse-power cycle that reproduces itself. Although this reproduction’s role is, according to Foucault, to ward off dangers and powers that uncontrolled discourse poses to the establishment, it does not give global institutions mastery over the world’s ‘chance events’. Not least those in the third world. The reason for this is that there is reluctance, at a conceptual level, to abandon knowledge about the third world produced through the lens of Western discourse - the colonial gaze. Any conceptual project dogmatically committed to this discourse cannot aspire to producing new knowledge. It is stuck at an interpretative level where, according to Jacques Derrida, one “cannot utter a single destructive proposition which has not already slipped into the form, the logic, and the implicit postulations of precisely what it seeks to contest” (Derrida,1970:2). 

While Derrida locates a break with the limitations of discourse with rupture, scholars like Adesina look to the work of Archie Mafeje because of their practical extirpation of the discourse of alterity(Adesina,2008:138). To shift from this Adesina emphasises the need for scholarship that is “able to decode local ‘vernaculars’: the encoded local ontology and modes of comprehension”. (ibid, 2008:146). The paper by Adesina titled Archie Mafeje and the Pursuit of Endogeny: Against Alterity and Extroversion discusses the subject at length. There are two important points he makes about endogeneity. The first is that “being an outsider does not disqualify a scholar from producing works of profound endogeny”. (ibid,  2008). The second is that it is not necessary for a scholar to de-link from non-endogenous systems of knowledge. What should be avoided is the “tyranny of received paradigms that often obscures the ability to ‘see’ and comprehend social processes unfolding before us on their own terms”. (ibid, 2008:146). 

Perhaps this is what Mahmood Mamdani does when he explains the validity of political economy in helping to to “historicize the construction of colonial markets and thereby of market-based identities”. (Mamdani, 2005:2). Mamdani’s insight is important here. Class contradictions and other related problems of global capitalism do not suddenly disappear. According to Mamdani the shortcoming of political economy is that it can only explain violence when it is a clash between these market-based identities.  From this standpoint “violence animated mainly by distinctions crafted in colonial law rather than sprouting from the soil of a commodity economy—explanations rooted in political economy offered less and less analytical clarity”. (ibid.2005:2). 

Many of the issues touched on in this part of the conversation lay bare two things. The first are conceptual limitations that often pass unnoticed by institutions that disseminate information to the public. The second is that if the efforts at remedying the situation were taken seriously and applied we might not at have to grapple with notions such as “global confusion”. That is why to a large extent it can be validly asserted that global institutions are well informed and take deliberate decisions. This is so even in the case of Rwanda.

III
At the beginning of this conversation we explored discourse and society. What emerged was that there always exists a discourse-power complex which finds expression in social institutions. What we then arrived at is that this complex can and in fact does create the Other who is the site for dehumanization.

In the case of Rwanda’s recent history Mamdani speaks of three pivotal moments that contribute to the genocide: Belgian colonization and racialization of the state in 1920, nationalism and the 1959 revolution and the civil war in 1920(Mamdani,2002:17). All of these moments are important because they gave a new lease of life to institutions. In other words they give form to the two dimensions of discourse – history and a locale. . In this discussion and others Mamdani tells us about three related themes which form part of the discourse on Rwanda. 

Colonial anthropology, the first one, was instrumental in formalising Tutsi and Hutu as distinct identities which the state is committed to perpetuate.  According to Mamdani this is in contrast to what had been the case.
 “For the first time in the history of Rwanda, the terms Hutu and Tutsi came to identify two groups, one branded indigenous, the other exalted as alien. For the first time, Tutsi privilege claimed to be the privilege of an alien group, a group identified as Hamitic, as racially alien”. (ibid, 2002:14) 

This is in contrast to what he refers to as the processes of ritual ennoblement where a prosperous Hutu shed his Hutuness and when impoverished Tutsi families lost their status, processes termed kwihutura and gucupira respectively. 
 
The second is the purportedly tribal nature of the conflict in Rwanda. This of course is what prompted the international community to take no serious action to prevent the conflict. The problem here is that had the international community been receptive to scholarship that is endogenous this appreciation of the conflict would not have occurred. In fact Mafeje points out that the deconstruction of colonial anthropology which showed that the concept of ‘tribe’ had no basis in African social formations began in the late 1960’s. Only selective ignorance, which unfortunately continues to this day, could allow for the perception of the conflict being tribal strife and nothing more to continue. 

The third theme relates to the media and the international press response to the conflict and genocide in Rwanda. What the propaganda of the government did was nothing new. It was in keeping with established discourse, flowing smoothly from 1920. Mamdani says “as the revolutionaries built Rwanda into a ‘Hutu nation’, they embarked on a program of justice: justice for Hutu, a reckoning for Tutsi. And in doing so they confirmed Hutu and Tutsi as political identities.”(ibid, 2002: 15).

By insisting on treating the conflict as civil strife where there were two neat sides contesting for state power the international media added to the complexity of the problem. If the local media in Rwanda was reproducing the old discourse of Hutu-Tutsi antagonisms; the international press gave credence to it by accepting the reversal of a Hutu majority government as a democracy uncritically. The church is culpable of the same too in their simple switching of sides in 1959. Of course this was for the sake of expediency on its part, but that does not absolve them nonetheless. 

Mamdani says international media in Rwanda was guilty of giving a “premordialist account that tends to explain contemporary conflicts as replays of timeless antagonisms”. (ibid, 2002: 13). The other difficulty he says the press finds itself in is that of giving a simple account of perpetrator and victim that is not reflective of the history. This is indeed a real difficulty because the press certainly seems to find it difficult to report in instances where erstwhile victims have become perpetrators. Think for instance of the state of Israel and how its aggression and apartheid policies towards Palestine are treated mildly because of the fact of the Holocaust.  

Because the media and the press are woven within discourse in society we should always countenance that it will be used to as an extension of the establishment to reinforce its control on society. That the media was used to incite the Hutu population to genocide should appal but not surprise us. The media should never be an instrument used in the creation of the other.  



References

Adesina, J. O., 2008,Archie Mafeje and the Pursuit of Endogeny: Against Alterity and Extroversion’, Africa Development,33(4), 133-152

Bhabha, H. K., 1994, ‘The Location of Culture’, Routledge, New York

Derrida, J., 1970, ‘Structure, Sign, and Play in the Discourse of the Human Sciences’ viewed 29 September 2015, from http://www.csudh.edu/ccauthen/576f13/DrrdaSSP.pdf

Foucault, M,. 1976, ‘Lecture One: June 1976’, in Gordin, C.(ed), nd, ‘Selected Interviews and Other Writings 1972-1977’, Pantheon Books, New York

Foucault, M., 1970, 'The Order of Discourse', in Young, R.(ed), Untying the Text: A Post-Structuralist Reader , pp.51 -78, Boston, Massachusetts.

Foucault, M., 1980, ‘Power/Knowledge: Selected Interviews and Other Writings 1972-77’, Pantheon Books, New York

Mamdani, M., 2002, ‘Making Sense of Political Violence in Postcolonial Africa’, Identity, Culture and Politics, 3(2), 1-24

Mamdani, M., 2005, ‘Political Identity, Citizenship and Ethnicity in Post-Colonial Africa’, viewed 29 September 2016, from http://siteresources.worldbank.org/INTRANETSOCIALDEVELOPMENT/Resources/revisedMamdani.pdf

Friday 4 December 2015

Madness

As children growing up eLujizweni, eNgqeleni along the Wild Coast, we used to play a running and catching game. In this game you had Mama or Tata who represented the protagonist. For the vilain we had Ingcuka – the hyena. Abantwana, the poor vulnerable kids, always found themselves in a perilous situation, having to outrun Ingcuka to get to uMama/Tata. Central to the game was a call and response exchange between Mama/Tata and Abantwana.  The exchange always went as follows (I hate that I have to translate hence I opted for a direct translation rather than attempting to rearrange the words):

Mama: Bantwana bam                                                            Mama: My children
Abantwana: Mama                                                                 Abantwana: Mama
Mama: Yizani kum                                                                  Mama: Come to me
Abantwana: Siyoyika                                                              Abantwana: We are afraid
Mama: Noyika Ntoni?                                                             Mama: You are scared of                                                                                                                 what?
Abantwana: Ingcuka                                                               Abantwana: INgcuka
Mama: Itya ntoni?                                                                   Mama:It’s eating                                                                                                                             what?         
Abantwana: Isonka                                                                 Abantwana: Eating the                                                                                                                             bread
Mama: Ilumela ngantoni?                                                       Mama: Washing it down                                                                                                                   with what?
Abantwana: Ngegazi                                                               Abantwana: With the blood
Mama: Lalani                                                                          Mama: Go to sleep now
Abantwana: Awohoo                                                              Abantwana: Awohoo
Mama: Vukani                                                                         Mama: Wake up now
Abantwana: Awohoo                                                              Abantwana: Awohoo
Mama: Ngomso yikrismesi!                                                     Mama: Tomorrow is the                  Christmas!

With mention of ikrismesi the children would go beserk, lose their minds and as if possesed by some kind of spirit. They would dash into the danger zone where there is Ngcuka who washes down his meals with childrens blood. This was the world of my childhood, when I was still a country bumpkin who knew nothing about itwo-feet or the fact that my isiMpondo dialect would be an oddity once I got to Mthatha. Looking at it now, this was complete madness on the part of Abantwana, dashing off like that risking being Ngcuka’s dinner just because they cannot fathom the idea of missing ikrismesi the next day.

  Now as innocent as this scenario is, there is more that meets the eye. There is something out of kilter about children whose imagination could allow them to risk life and limb for Christmas.
 The truth is, for people who grew up in the world I grew up in these things don’t just happen, they take some kind conditioning. For instance I wasn’t conscious about christmas till I was five years old. I think that is when alienaion proper  started in earnest for me. In hindsight I think that it was inevitable because of the broader historical context around me. It had been more than a century since the cheap migrant labour system of the mines had been sucking the countryside dry began. This system was calculated to break the entire social structure of Southern Africa. What was left was a countryside where Africans were herded into reservations and, without land, denuded of their dignity as a people. With the new democratic dispensation the countryside was bleeding youth at an even faster rate because of the perception that there are more opportunities in the city. Needless to say, the township and squatter camps were waiting for them.

The kind of alienation we have in mind here is one where the tendency is that the center reinforces and reproduces itself as a significant force of gravity as far as national or social life is concerned. By this I mean the kind Chinweizu mentions when he discusses the “Melting Pot” perspective. Here he says ‘groups from the periphery are being culturally re-produced in the centre’. Of course no real cultural re-invention happens. Nevermind a reproduction.  What really happens is that they face immense social pressures that force  them to assimilate. About this kind of alienation Chinweizu goes on to say:

‘The bad side of the game is the process of centro-marginalization, where the middle will be turned into the centre of power and wealth, and the periphery turned into the margin which becomes more and more relegated everyday’.

What is worth mentioning is that when those from the margin are pulled into the middle it is not for their own good. It is for their destruction, to be quite frank. When we look at our childhood game closely we are fortunate because iNgcuka is easy to spot and the blood-drinking antics are well-known. In real social situations this is not always the case, unfortunately.

What is quintessential about the all cases of assimilation-alienation is the almost chaotic madness involved. Where the two meet there is always a clash of some kind. A review of the song Madness by Miles Davis, in 100 Greatest Jazz Albums, speaks to something similar. The tune is a Herbie Hancock composition which appears on the 1967 Nefertiti album. About the song the review says:

‘“Madness” seems to capture musically the idea of cultures colliding at the opening theme, announced against a jaunty running bass and drum accompaniment, literally collides with a shock against a sudden break up of the rhythm before stretching out again with Miles Davis’ long unsettling solo’ 


I might have seen this kind of madness not so long ago. It was during the opening of a new shopping complex in the East London CBD. What makes it interesting is that this is the poorer part of the town, where the so called second economy is located. The spot where the new mall stands was previously a taxi rank with caravans where one can get umngqusho and umnqambulo. Like any rank you had oomama that sell their wares from fruit to ulusu and everything in-between. Now the rank is located in the dingy underground parking of the beautiful R316 million shopping complex. The once bustling pavement economy is dying a slow death. And this is not because oomama on the pavement have moved to the new mall. The proud occupants of the mall are the same multi-nationals one gets on the main road in the same CBD. The same stores you get in any mall in the country anyway. Capitalism has decided to pay the dirtier parts of the town a visit. 


As a sangoma, my suspicion is that this marks the beginning of yet another phase of social erasure. Pretty soon the poor souls who have always eked a living from this part of the town will become misfits. The shabby stalls they sell from will soon be an eyesore that is bad for business. Very soon they will have to disappear and reappear as new converts to our growing consumerist culture. It will not happen overnight. Madness does not just set in immediately. First people have the blank expression that I saw on many that day, an expression of uncertainty about what this new culture asks of them. Then comes the mob mentality that needs mounted police to monitor the scene. What tops the list for me is not the competition where old women, older than my mother, compete at making animal sounds. That was degrading but it is not what unsettled me. What made my stomach turn is that people were able to continue as if nothing happened when a lady was knocked unconscious in the stampede. To me this is no different to what we did as children when we heard Ngomso yikrismesi. Do they know that there is iNgcuka waiting to have their blood for a drink? This to me is MADNESS!



Wednesday 25 November 2015

Tomorrow Is The Question!



Tomorrow Is The Question is the title to one of the super-radical Ornette Coleman’s 1959 albums. Ornette Coleman’s music has from the very onset been the epitome of a deep refusal, on a principled and fundamental basis, to be held back by already established strictures that offer no prospects for an advance. Perhaps the radical thing for the marginalised in South Africa is to refuse to be dictated to. To refuse to be told when to be angry, sad, courageous or impatient. In short, when to matter. The big difference will happen when they decide for themselves and become the ones that set a new tone for the rest(they are a majority anyway). This is not in any way a sign of naiveté on their part. Naiveté on their part would be to sit on their hands and to hope that they will achieve the kind of society they aspire to have without putting up a fight.

The fact that we live in extraordinary times cannot be ignored. Times when only a radicalism of one form or another can rescue us from the mess we are in. The truth is we have become like an old musical idiom. Like the old idiom which can only give a few clichés that offer no avenue for creative expression save for what is prescribed, we have come to that part of the road where something simply has to give. The new notes need to be blown. They can be avoided for a while but that window of avoidance is closing fast. South Africa is in a social crisis. A very deep one. 

There are two areas where the decadence is, where renewal needs to happen. The one is at an organisational level – how people organise themselves to pursue their struggles effectively. The second being at an institutional level – what  they create as the solution to their historical and contemporary problems.

There are apparent limitations to the responsiveness of traditional political organisations to the magnitude of both historic and contemporary problems in the country. That they have all been caught with their pants down in the latest wave of unrest is no coincidence. Hard as they have tried, they simply can’t improvise. They are too inward-looking. Even their old programmes, whose neglect they lament when they introspect, are simply not suited for the new situation. None of what they try has yielded any fruitful results save for being potentially costly non-events. So far we have seen two instances of what can be termed as “marches for relevance”. When combined they can be called the Red Bloomers Brigade(the EFF and ANC Women’s League marches). Both marches, a few days apart, gave their respective organisations an opportunity to avoid grappling with real issues head on. 





 The point that they miss is not a very complicated one. It is the fact that the nature of mass action has changed. They rely on an old conception of mass action. In their minds mass action is like a tap that can be opened and closed at will. This premise has always been errorneous anyway. Political organisations have stuck with it because of what it promises them, the power to control uncritical masses(in other cases a surprisingly conscious group who simply delegate their faculties of reflection to their leaders and organisations) which can be used to achieve organisational aims. Here the leaders are content with having called out the people to fill the streets. As soon as the numbers are not embarassing and give them an air of respectability among their peers for having a solid constituency they are happy to tell the people to go back home, congratulating them for having achieved something. 

In our contemporary situation the poor are more likely to take to the streets to show disgust than to make a political point. When they do take to the streets, in their minds they have an unwavering belief in the legitimacy of their grievances. History has also taught them that their struggle is likely to be one that is protracted rather than a quick, easy march to victory. Each of them is engaged in a deeply personal struggle with the system. They see themselves as a collective rather than belonging to this organisation or the other.  

One also has to be aware of those pockets within the restive sections of our population where there are attempts at grappling with issues at a theoretical or ideological level. Much of it is happenning among those who are very close to the academy. Among the youth there seems to be signs that the first internal problem to be resolved is how far can its Pan-Afrikanist character be stretched. The second being how to elevate this engagement with Pan-Afrikanism to avoid it being an uncritical attraction to old ideas which can be associated with old formations and perhaps be affected by the fate that befell the said formations. Thus far it seems that any movement will have a Pan-Afrikanist character by default. 

The fact of the matter is that no organisation has a monopoly on Pan-Afrikanism, not even the PAC. In any case it is not allowed to.  At this stage Pan-Afrikanism is the appropriate outlook in response to many problems. Decolonisaton, whether of knowledge production, society or its institutions, is without a sound basis if the focus is not Afrika. Otherwise we will be stuck with the degenerate South African exceptionalism and Rainbowism of the past two and a half decades. It is impossible to arrive at a frame of mind which points one to the quintessential South African problem, the land question which doubles up as the national question without Pan-Afrikanism.

 The best scenario would be one where it is Biko’s ghost(and his unfinished business) that should haunt the present and give it impetus. My hope, again, is that these kinds of things be pursued at a grassroots level rather than at the level of big powerful organisations who prioritise their existence over their essence.

At the institutional level things are much more complicated. How can successes at the organisational level be translated into meaningful undertakings? What do we do with a critical mass if we achieve one? Here it easier to ask questions than to provide answers. One does not simply arrive at the answers, they should be a product of a drawn out process of reflection, one that preferrably preceeds the current situation. The first important institution therefore is institutional memory. Walter Rodney says that “one of the most important of our responsibilities is to define our own situation”. The definition should be arrived at after a comprehensive analysis of both the local and the international scene, an all things considered type of assessment. 

The second thing that should happen at an institutional level is appropriateness in relation to the historical moment. This is made important by the emergence of gaps overtime within movements. Lucius Outlaw touches on this briefly when he discusses historical discontinuity in activism. It could very well be that we are also emerging from such a hiatus in terms of the scale at which social crises have led to the kind of nationwide response we have seen with the youth. So far we have not seen the mergence of institutional means that are available at the service of the emerging movement. There are attempts, however at an issue-based level. The efforts of groups like Black Cognitivity and the Afrocentric Study Group in East London should not go unnoticed. They are examples of initiative being shown in response to some of the issues that are being grappled with, transforming the education system and the shift away from perceiving ethnocentric European thought as universal. 

All in all a movement that should carry forward the aspirations of the marginalised should have two essential things – Mind and Time. The mind to handle the complexity of our history and to attempt to arrive at possible solutions. Time means the capacity and willingness to act in ways that suggest a consciousness of where we are in relation to our history and the new chapter being written. Mind and Time, by the way, is a title to another one of the songs in the Tomorrow Is The Question album by Ornette Coleman.

Here is the complete tracklist:

  1. "Tomorrow Is the Question!"                – 3:09
  2. "Tears Inside"                                       – 5:00
  3. "Mind and Time"                                   – 3:08
  4. "Compassion"                                       – 4:37
  5. "Giggin'"                                               – 3:19
  6. "Rejoicing"                                            – 4:01
  7. "Lorraine"                                             – 5:55
  8. "Turnaround"                                        – 7:58
  9. "Endless"                                              – 5:18


TEBOGO GANTSA                                  NOVEMBER 2015 ©