shalinialisha/ai-for-all · Datasets at Hugging Face

text stringlengths 0 305
equipped a few Africans with a grasp of the international community and of
bourgeois democracy, and there was a most unsatisfactory credibility gap
between the ideals of bourgeois democracy and the existence of colonialism
as a system which negated freedom. Inevitably, the educated started
gravitating in the direction of claims for national independence, just as
educated Indians had done much earlier on the Indian subcontinent.
According to official Spanish sources, it is said that the school system in
Spanish Guinea achieved all that the colonizers expected of it. It produced
the required Africans who loved Spaniards more than the Spaniards loved
themselves, but it produced no opponents of the colonial regime. It is
difficult to believe the truth of such an assertion; and the Spanish took good
care that no one from outside got wind of what things were like in the small

Spanish colonies in Africa. However, if it were true that the colonial
educational system in Spanish Guinea created only whitewashed Africans
according to plan, then that would represent an outstanding exception to the
general rule. Wherever adequate evidence is available, it shows that the
cultural imperialism of colonial education was successful in large measure,
but was never entirely successful. It produced according to plan many
“loyal Kikuyu,” “Capicornists,” “Anglophiles,” “Francophiles”; but it also
produced in spite of itself those Africans whom the colonialists called
upstarts, malcontents, agitators, communists, terrorists.
From the viewpoint of the colonialists, trouble often started with African
students before they had completed studies. The Sudan, for example, has a
history of nationalist student protests; and Madagascar was outstanding in
that respect. From the early years of this century, a politicized student
movement was growing in Madagascar, in spite of specific steps taken by
two French governors. By 1816, Malagasy students had organized the Vy
Vato society, seeking to kick out the French. When the Vy Vato was
discovered, students were brutally suppressed. However, as so often
happens, students gained inspiration from the martyrdom of their fellows,
and they resurfaced at a later date on the nationalist scene.
Students who were taken to universities in the metropoles were the most
favored and the most pampered of the Africans selected by the white
colonial overlords to become Europeanized; and yet they were among the
first to argue vocally and logically that the liberty, equality, and fraternity
about which they were taught should apply to Africa. African students in
France in the postwar years were placed carefully within the ranks of the
then conservative French national student body, but they soon rebelled and
formed the Federation of Students of Black Africa (FEANF), which became
affiliated to the communist International Union of Students. In Britain,
African students formed a variety of ethnic and nationalist organizations,
and participated in the Pan-African movement. After all, most of them were
sent there to study the British Constitution and Constitutional Law, and (for
what it is worth) the word “freedom” appears in those contexts rather often!
The fascists who ruled Africans at some points during the colonial epoch
tried to avoid bourgeois democratic ideals altogether. For example, while
the Italian fascists were in charge of Somalia between 1922 and 1941, they
took away from history textbooks all reference to Mazzini and Garibaldi,

two key leaders of the democratic wing of the Italian nationalist movement
of the nineteenth century. Yet, the clerks and NCOs who received that
education nevertheless went into the Somali Youth League and fought for
independence at the head of popular forces.
The fact of the matter is that it was not really necessary to get the idea of
freedom from a European book. What the educated African extracted from
European schooling was a particular formulation of the concept of political
freedom. But, it did not take much to elicit a response from their own
instinctive tendency for freedom; and, as has just been noted in the Somali
instance, that universal tendency to seek freedom manifested itself among
Africans even when the most careful steps were taken to extinguish it.
There was no sector of colonial life in which educated Africans appeared
and remained wholly loyal to the colonialists. Teachers were supposed to
have been steeped in the culture of domination, so as to pass it on to other
Africans; but, in the end, many of them stood in the vanguard of the
national independence movements. African priests and pastors were
supposed to have been the loyal servants of God and his European
lieutenants, but the church gave birth in Nyasaland to John Chilembwe, as
early as the First World War. Shortly afterwards, in Congo, when Simon
Kimbangu started his Independent church, he actually threatened the
colonialists that he would introduce Bolshevism!
It is particularly interesting to notice that the colonialists could not be
sure of the loyalty of their African troops. It has already been argued that
the army and police were educational and socializing institutions to
perpetuate colonialist and capitalist power and values. How successfully
they served that function can be seen in the number of veterans of Burma
and Indochina who returned to the continent to carry out loyally the policies
of Britain and France, respectively. Colonel Bokassa of the Central African
Republic and Colonel Lamizana of Upper Volta provide two outstanding
examples, both of them having graduated from fighting the Vietnamese to a
point where they are prepared to dialogue with the fascist apartheid state of
South Africa. However, returned soldiers also played a very positive role in
the national independence struggles after both wars. And, occasionally,
towards the end of colonial rule, African troops and police mutinied, as in
Nyasaland in 1959.

African trade unionists also went to “school” under colonialism. To
begin with, the organization and activity of the small wage-earning sector in
Africa bothered the colonialists a great deal. Their initial desire was to
crush worker dissent, and (when that appeared unlikely to succeed) to coopt
it and guide it along “acceptable” channels.
The British Trade Union Council sponsored a number of African trade
unions, and tried to get them to accept a rigid separation between industrial
matters (such as wages and working hours) and political matters. But, the
TUC was in that context acting on behalf of the British bourgeoisie, and
they did not succeed in holding back the working class in Africa. African
workers were able to appreciate that there was no difference between the
private employers and the colonial administration. Indeed, the colonial
administration was itself one of the biggest employers, against whom
workers had many charges. Consequently, in the 1940s and 1950s, it was

equipped a few Africans with a grasp of the international community and of

bourgeois democracy, and there was a most unsatisfactory credibility gap

between the ideals of bourgeois democracy and the existence of colonialism

as a system which negated freedom. Inevitably, the educated started

gravitating in the direction of claims for national independence, just as

educated Indians had done much earlier on the Indian subcontinent.

According to official Spanish sources, it is said that the school system in

Spanish Guinea achieved all that the colonizers expected of it. It produced

the required Africans who loved Spaniards more than the Spaniards loved

themselves, but it produced no opponents of the colonial regime. It is

difficult to believe the truth of such an assertion; and the Spanish took good

care that no one from outside got wind of what things were like in the small

Spanish colonies in Africa. However, if it were true that the colonial

educational system in Spanish Guinea created only whitewashed Africans

according to plan, then that would represent an outstanding exception to the

general rule. Wherever adequate evidence is available, it shows that the

cultural imperialism of colonial education was successful in large measure,

but was never entirely successful. It produced according to plan many

“loyal Kikuyu,” “Capicornists,” “Anglophiles,” “Francophiles”; but it also

produced in spite of itself those Africans whom the colonialists called

upstarts, malcontents, agitators, communists, terrorists.

From the viewpoint of the colonialists, trouble often started with African

students before they had completed studies. The Sudan, for example, has a

history of nationalist student protests; and Madagascar was outstanding in

that respect. From the early years of this century, a politicized student

movement was growing in Madagascar, in spite of specific steps taken by

two French governors. By 1816, Malagasy students had organized the Vy

Vato society, seeking to kick out the French. When the Vy Vato was

discovered, students were brutally suppressed. However, as so often

happens, students gained inspiration from the martyrdom of their fellows,

and they resurfaced at a later date on the nationalist scene.

Students who were taken to universities in the metropoles were the most

favored and the most pampered of the Africans selected by the white

colonial overlords to become Europeanized; and yet they were among the

first to argue vocally and logically that the liberty, equality, and fraternity

about which they were taught should apply to Africa. African students in

France in the postwar years were placed carefully within the ranks of the

then conservative French national student body, but they soon rebelled and

formed the Federation of Students of Black Africa (FEANF), which became

affiliated to the communist International Union of Students. In Britain,

African students formed a variety of ethnic and nationalist organizations,

and participated in the Pan-African movement. After all, most of them were

sent there to study the British Constitution and Constitutional Law, and (for

what it is worth) the word “freedom” appears in those contexts rather often!

The fascists who ruled Africans at some points during the colonial epoch

tried to avoid bourgeois democratic ideals altogether. For example, while

the Italian fascists were in charge of Somalia between 1922 and 1941, they

took away from history textbooks all reference to Mazzini and Garibaldi,

two key leaders of the democratic wing of the Italian nationalist movement

of the nineteenth century. Yet, the clerks and NCOs who received that

education nevertheless went into the Somali Youth League and fought for

independence at the head of popular forces.

The fact of the matter is that it was not really necessary to get the idea of

freedom from a European book. What the educated African extracted from

European schooling was a particular formulation of the concept of political

freedom. But, it did not take much to elicit a response from their own

instinctive tendency for freedom; and, as has just been noted in the Somali

instance, that universal tendency to seek freedom manifested itself among

Africans even when the most careful steps were taken to extinguish it.

There was no sector of colonial life in which educated Africans appeared

and remained wholly loyal to the colonialists. Teachers were supposed to

have been steeped in the culture of domination, so as to pass it on to other

Africans; but, in the end, many of them stood in the vanguard of the

national independence movements. African priests and pastors were

supposed to have been the loyal servants of God and his European

lieutenants, but the church gave birth in Nyasaland to John Chilembwe, as

early as the First World War. Shortly afterwards, in Congo, when Simon

Kimbangu started his Independent church, he actually threatened the

colonialists that he would introduce Bolshevism!

It is particularly interesting to notice that the colonialists could not be

sure of the loyalty of their African troops. It has already been argued that

the army and police were educational and socializing institutions to

perpetuate colonialist and capitalist power and values. How successfully

they served that function can be seen in the number of veterans of Burma

and Indochina who returned to the continent to carry out loyally the policies

of Britain and France, respectively. Colonel Bokassa of the Central African

Republic and Colonel Lamizana of Upper Volta provide two outstanding

examples, both of them having graduated from fighting the Vietnamese to a

point where they are prepared to dialogue with the fascist apartheid state of

South Africa. However, returned soldiers also played a very positive role in

the national independence struggles after both wars. And, occasionally,

towards the end of colonial rule, African troops and police mutinied, as in

Nyasaland in 1959.

African trade unionists also went to “school” under colonialism. To

begin with, the organization and activity of the small wage-earning sector in

Africa bothered the colonialists a great deal. Their initial desire was to

crush worker dissent, and (when that appeared unlikely to succeed) to coopt

it and guide it along “acceptable” channels.

The British Trade Union Council sponsored a number of African trade

unions, and tried to get them to accept a rigid separation between industrial

matters (such as wages and working hours) and political matters. But, the

TUC was in that context acting on behalf of the British bourgeoisie, and

they did not succeed in holding back the working class in Africa. African

workers were able to appreciate that there was no difference between the

private employers and the colonial administration. Indeed, the colonial

administration was itself one of the biggest employers, against whom

workers had many charges. Consequently, in the 1940s and 1950s, it was