Printer-friendly versionSend by emailPDF version
C M

‘Colonialism signified nothing less than the collective traumatising of the Namibian people who must carry the heavy burden of the consequences for generations,’ writes Shaun R. Whittaker.

Frantz Fanon participated actively in the anti-colonial struggles in northern Africa, which is currently undergoing an astonishing phase of social change. It was probably inevitable that Fanon’s magnum opus about colonialism, 'The Wretched of the Earth', would start off with a discourse about violence. With a sense of urgency, Fanon (1963) asserted:

‘National liberation, national renaissance, the restoration of nationhood to the people, commonwealth: whatever may be the headings used or the new formulas introduced, decolonization is always a violent phenomenon… The naked truth of decolonization evokes for us the searing bullets and bloodstained knives which emanate from it… you will see the native reaching for his knife at the slightest hostile or aggressive glance cast on him by another native; for the last resort of the native is to defend his personality vis-à-vis his brother’ (pp. 35-37).

Fanon’s pivotal thesis was that the political violence of the colonised was revolutionary in nature and an unavoidable aspect of the anti-colonial struggle. Colonialism was sustained through repressive violence and could only be overthrown through liberating violence. Furthermore, it amplified different types of violence. Although criminal violence, for instance, represents the opposite of political violence, these kinds of violence are interlinked. The quick reaching for a knife or, even worse, in this day and age, a machete, that symbol of genocidal violence, to defend a social identity, is usually done by young males with a humiliated status, and the defending or attacking is usually done vis-à-vis other youthful men, but, also of course women and children. In post-colonial society, this displaced aggression continues to be connected to the shame of a low social-status or a subordinate identity. The continuation, or even intensification, of violence is consequently to be expected.

Using a powerful, yet apt image, Fanon referred to colonialism as ‘an avalanche of murders.’ The overwhelming violence implied in this phrase captures the essence of what colonialism and apartheid were about. Oppressing others leaves behind a culture of endemic violence. Namibians should admit that colonialism was much more than what is implicit in Fanon’s phrase, namely, that it was an avalanche of murders, assaults, robberies, rapes, suicides, tortures, imprisonments, abuses, etc. Colonialism signified nothing less than the collective traumatising of the Namibian people who must carry the heavy burden of the consequences for generations. In this regard, the alarming legacy of bloodshed is everywhere in southern Africa: The anti-colonial fighters who were imprisoned and beaten, the detainees who were tortured, the women who were raped and molested, the children who were abused and collectively punished, the unemployed and the ex-colonial soldiers who commit suicide, the families who mourn for loved ones, the general trauma and self-destruction of the people.

Due to this appalling inheritance from colonialism, Fanon was of the view that a negotiated political settlement, like in Namibia, would not lead to fundamental social change. The complicated process of decolonisation would be unsuccessful and the politically independent nation would be, in Fanon’s words, ‘an empty shell, a crude and fragile travesty of what it might have been’ (p.148). In such a neocolonial or neo-apartheid society, violence would become internalised and the people would be torn apart by differences of social class, tribe, gender, religion, etc. The ex-colonised would become demoralised and disheartened by the lack of grassroots change.

Indeed, it is against this background that the northern African revolts should be comprehended. The mass uprisings against neoliberalism in those post-colonial societies signify the historical appearance of a world-wide interregnum right in front of our eyes. Social change there has happened, not due to revolutionary violence, as postulated by Fanon, but due to mass action or street power, which have had more empowering consequences. Nevertheless, at least since the Great Recession, the post-colonial societies, in particular, have irrevocably moved beyond the honeymoon phase of political independence.

STRUCTURAL VIOLENCE

Postcolonial Namibia was born in the aftermath of the historical disintegration of the Soviet Union and the consequent hegemony of what French philosopher, Daniel Bensaid, termed ‘neo-liberal authoritarianism.’ This economic authoritarianism, derived from the political power of the right-wing, is manifested in increasing social inequality and pauperisation, which tragically had become the defining feature of postcolonial and post-apartheid southern Africa. In Namibia, specifically, the shift from pre-independence Keynesianism to postcolonial neoliberalism laid the foundation of increasing social fragmentation. Neoliberal authoritarianism led to the constant downward spiral in the living conditions of the people and ensures exorbitant food prices, rampant unemployment and endemic violence.

Expressions of social inequality have reached catastrophic levels. The rising food prices, in particular, had the greatest immediate impact on the lives of the people and have resulted in widespread anger and frustration. The speculation with food on the global stock markets and the development of so-called biofuels mean that humanity everywhere entered an era in which the specter of mass hunger has become all too common. The question of large-scale hunger is not going to be easily resolved and, needless to say, this holds grave implications with regards to violence.

ORGANISED VIOLENCE

Militarism is about power and control over others. In Namibia, this organised violence was an outflow of a century of colonialism which not only aimed at entrenching social inequality, but also establishing patterns of gratuitous violence. Just a few decades ago, the northern part of the country was the most militarised zone in the world and had to endure a 20-year state of emergency. Since colonialism was upheld through militarism, the armed struggle became the principle form of resistance and, consequently, the militarist culture lives on in the country. Namibian monuments like Heroes Acre are very real examples of the continuing presence of militarism. This militarisation is not only confined to the ever-expanding Namibian military, but is also evident in the police force and prison service. In addition, the paramilitary Special Field Force absorbed former combatants, while the National Youth Service targets the youth with a program of militarism. The military mindset is ingrained in the postcolonial psyche.

Militarism remains an indispensable part of neoliberal authoritarianism. The progressive Namibian intellectual, Alex Kaure (2011), has consistently drawn attention to the increasing militarisation in the country. The military budget continued to escalate over the past few years and the Namibian army recruits large numbers of young people every year. The country is firmly on the road to rising militarisation.

Militarism distorts the male identity into a hyper-masculine identity and reinforces male authoritarianism. In the main, young males are the perpetrators, as well as the victims, of the different kinds of violence, whether or not this happens as soldiers, tsotsis or protestors. In turn, the militarised male identity is central to the violence against women and children.

It is indeed in this context that sexual violence – as an instrument of power – and rape, in particular – as a political weapon of intimidation and punishment – are often manifested. The aim is to terrorise and humiliate the political opposition as seen in Zimbabwe; this kind of violence is clearly motivated by a political agenda. This sexual violence represents an intersection of militarism and the oppression of women. The paramilitary male youth groups usually target young women, which leave them with the scars of trauma, HIV/AIDS and unwanted pregnancies. This political violence is also deliberately perpetrated in front of family or community members in order to spread mass trauma. With regards to Namibia, it should also be admitted that there is tremendous silence about the political rape of women during the national liberation struggle.

The reality is that militarism impacts on all levels of Namibian society. Ultimately, it militates against nation-building and creates a vertical structure. Militarism also compliments other vertical structures such as tribal authorities and churches. There exists a strong need to demilitarise minds in postcolonial society.

EVERYDAY VIOLENCE

A disturbing feature of postcolonial society is the horrific homicides in everyday life. Human life is cheap. Hardly a day goes by without some serious knifing or fighting or altercation taking place. Unwarranted violence is everywhere.

Homicides are linked to social class status and occur more frequently in working class communities. A crucial contributing factor to homicides are the alarming unemployment figures in the country. The violent person is usually unemployed or in a low-level job with not much hope of a better future. Unemployed people simply have limited resources.

Of course, the tragedy of a highly unequal society such as Namibia is that the social comparison effect is greater in that people experience their desperation more intensely. Young people compare their miserable lives in the townships with the opulent lifestyles of the elite and aspire to live like that. So, the relativity of deprivation enhances people’s frustrations. This awareness, combined with the reality of the violence-prone person being semi-literate, illiterate or a school dropout, makes for an explosive recipe.

Perpetrators of everyday violence often live in an informal settlement or a township which is characterised by dehumanising conditions. A heavily confined living space or the fact of overcrowding leads to very little respect for personal boundaries.

The disintegration of the extended family in Namibia has also certainly contributed significantly to the endemic violence. The break-up of even this kind of family has given rise to female-headed households becoming the social norm, with the phenomenon of absent fathers on the increase. Women have to settle for low-income jobs to sustain the single-parent household. The single mother is under tremendous pressure to do the impossible, that is, to financially support the whole family.

Unsurprisingly, the chronic abuse of alcohol and drugs is typical with those who are so violent; it is almost as if people have to numb themselves from the harsh conditions of everyday life. With the substance abuse situation in Namibia being so totally out of control, this contributes immensely to the gratuitous violence.

In her response to the brilliant lecture called ‘Freud and the Non-European’, by the Palestinian intellectual, Edward Said (2003), the psychoanalyst Jacqueline Rose argued that trauma survivors tend to repeat the patterns of violence and persecution visited upon them. This is easily observed in Namibia. By far the more interesting issue raised by the psychoanalyst is that trauma can lead to dogmatic and irrational thinking. If this kind of cognitive structures are pervasive in an entire society, then shifting it is a challenge of huge proportions. It could be assumed, for instance, that such a society is highly vulnerable, relatively disintegrated and without much solidarity. Symbolic violence is thus rampant.

SYMBOLIC VIOLENCE

In the context of neoliberal authoritarianism, the ever-worsening economic situation and the struggle over basic resources, the people all-too-easily single out scapegoats. When times are hard, the humiliating status of people is expressed as displaced aggression towards those perceived to be weak or of a low social status. This process often targets groups of people that have been subjugated before, but ultimately any social marker could be utilised for this nefarious purpose.

Since social categories are linked to political power and ultimately access to wealth, this process has significant consequences. The symbolic violence of labeling or categorizing others is in the final analysis a smokescreen for access to material benefits or for justifying the deprivation of others.

In the Namibian situation, the resurgence in tribalism, in particular, has been alarming. It would seem that Namibians have learned very little from the genocide of central Africa. Many years ago already, the Namibian political scientist, Alfredo Hengari (2007), bemoaned the ‘authoritarian tribal sensibilities’ which have become commonplace in the country and the ‘dangerous tribal consensus’ in the way politics is conducted. This phenomenon has been most noticeable in the competition for jobs in both government and the so-called private sector. The greatest danger in the reluctance to counter tribalism in this country is that it places the entire deracialisation project and national unity in general in jeopardy.

It is relevant to point out that tribalism usually pretends to derive legitimacy from a romanticised understanding of culture and tradition; it idealises a homogeneity and timelessness that simply did not exist in pre-colonial times. Identities are not frozen in time and shift in meaning with different socio-economic circumstances. On the question of identity, the South African activist, Neville Alexander (2002), maintained that the rejection of an ascribed identity ‘is part of the larger social struggle for equality, freedom, dignity and fair access to the resources of the country.’

Of course, gender identities are also contested. Assumptions about the ‘authoritarian male’ and the ‘submissive female’ should equally be rejected as constructions of dominant groups. Female devaluation results in widespread violence against women, in households, in bushes, in urban areas, in rural areas, just about everywhere. Can any Namibian ever forget the heart-wrenching case of the young Magdalena Stoffels?

The disconcerting state of gender equality in Namibia is also reflected in the deafening silence in the public domain about the reproductive rights of women. It is simply astounding that, after so many years of political independence, Namibian women have not yet won this imperative democratic right.

A strong link exists amongst the increasing gender oppression, the rising religious extremism and the spread of neo-liberal authoritarianism. In this part of the world, the notion of religious conservatism is automatically associated with Islamic extremism. Other forms of dangerous religious intolerance as manifested in Christianity, Judaism and Hinduism are seldom acknowledged. During colonial times, Christian extremism was promoted as a way to entrench conflict and as an effective buffer against enlightened values. So, postcolonial Namibia remains deeply fractured by the very many Christian sects. The artificial barriers of religious sectarianism should be countered as obstacles to tolerance and solidarity.

Secularism is about valuing all human beings, not only those from a certain religion; it argues that human beings construct their own history and are their own agents of change. Furthermore, secularism empowers people with notions of a critical mind and reasoning ability, and puts forth a progressive view about freedom of conscience.

CONCLUSION

Finally, an analysis of violence as a social phenomenon should be driven by the desire to reassert humanistic values. In this historical phase of neoliberal authoritarianism, the tremendous import of a radical humanism cannot be overstated. With regards to political rape, in particular, a campaign throughout southern Africa against the rising militarisation should be seriously considered. We should prevail upon governments in this region to terminate the paramilitary programmes as well.

In referring to the denigration of the Palestinian identity by Zionist ideology, Edward Said (2001), in an agonising tone, confided that such an identity represents the ‘punishing destiny of being held hostage by a dehumanizing ideology.’ The people of southern Africa should take on the daunting task of moving beyond the labels that attempt to restrict their humanity. After all, the greatest relationship of all is that which embraces the whole of humankind.

BROUGHT TO YOU BY PAMBAZUKA NEWS

* This is an edited version of a paper presented at a conference on ‘Development of a strategy towards sexual violence and political rape in southern Africa,’ Windhoek, 16 May 2011.
* Please send comments to editor[at]pambazuka[dot]org or comment online at Pambazuka News.