The 80s: Photographing Britain @ Tate Britain

Linton Kwesi Johnson

Johnson isn’t mentioned anywhere in this exhibition but thinking about the 1980s made me dig up favourite playlists, and I ended up writing most of this review listening to his great 1979 album, ‘Forces of Victory’.

Introduction

Sometimes you wonder whether exhibitions at the Tate galleries are really about art at all any more, but aren’t more like polemically woke sociology lectures, with art, photography, sculpture and other evidence used merely as illustrations for a familiar set of well-worn, ‘radical’ themes.

This exhibition contains rooms or sections devoted to immigration, race, race riots, racism, the Black Experience, the Black Body, the Queer Black Body, feminism, identity, gender, colonialism, imperialism, immigration, sectarianism, pollution and environmentalism. As you can see, these look like the topic tabs on the Guardian website or a list of fashionable humanities subjects at any modern university.

As to the lived experiences of anyone not a left-wing activist, not a feminist, not Black or Asian, and not gay or lesbian during the 1980s, these are less in evidence than the subjects I’ve just listed and where they do appear, it’s mainly to be mocked and ridiculed.

I visited with a friend and we loved the first room because it is packed with a Greatest Hits selection of political issues from the 1980s: photos of anti-racism demonstrations (by Syd Shelton and Paul Trevor), of Rock Against Racism gigs, of the Miners Strike (by John Harris and Brenda Prince), of Greenham Common (by Format Photographers), protests about Section 28 and AIDS, all leading up to the Poll Tax riots – yes, all the usual suspects, shot in vivid black and white, which took us both back to our heady student days.

But as the exhibition progressed her enthusiasm turned to puzzlement and then irritation and, by the end, she was so fed up with being lectured about identity and gender and race and queer Black bodies that she gave up. She described it as the worst exhibition we’ve been to this year and I came to agree. If you read all the wall captions (as I’m addicted to doing), it felt like being trapped in a lift full of woke humanities lecturers all talking at the same time.

‘No title’ from the series Strictly by Jason Evans (1991) Tate © Jason Evans

The central problem with this exhibition

I naively thought the exhibition would be a portrait of the 1980s, that the curators would make an honest attempt to give a balanced account of this troubled decade and the wide range of social and cultural changes it witnessed, as captured in photography – that it would be a visual history of the decade.

Very wrong. What the curators have done is to make a personal selection of just the radical photographers from the period who covered what they think are the important issues (then, as now), the disruptors, the radicals, the subversives. And, as mentioned, although they initially touch on many of the obvious issues of the time (the Winter of Discontent, Thatcher, Miners Strike, unemployment, inequality, Greenham Common, poll tax) this is not where the curators’ hearts lie.

The curators are far more concerned with contemporary woke issues of gender and ethnicity than with genuinely trying to reach back and understand what it was like to live through the 1980s, as my friend and I (and, obviously, scores of millions of other Brits) did.

The result is an exhibition which feels top heavy with the woke curatorial concerns of our own day – gender, race, colonialism, immigration, inequality – but feels like it misses out important aspects of the decade in they’ve chosen to cover.

While the wall labels are fairly neutral and factual about the political history (Callaghan government; winter of discontent; days lost to strikes; Thatcher elected; deindustralisation; working class poverty; anti-nuclear protests) the actual exhibits are utterly one-sided, with a plethora of photos, pamphlets and posters decrying the authorities, the police, the government, for their racism, lack of concern for the poor, inequality, tax and regulation changes to benefit business and the middle classes, and so on.

While all these criticisms are true, they fail to take account of the key fact of the decade which is that Mrs Thatcher was, and continued to be, phenomenally popular with about 40% of the population. Here’s how many voted for her three Conservative administrations.

  • 1979: 13,697,923 (44%)
  • 1983: 13,012,316 (42%)
  • 1987: 13,760,583 (42%)

Lots and lots of people thought Britain had gone down the drain in the 1970s, thought the Labour governments of Wilson and Callaghan were in hock to the trade unions who, despite all their promises, seemed to be continuously on strike, while all manner of public services collapsed – that Britain was becoming a failed state or Third World country.

In this narrative, Thatcher not only saved Britain from endless decline under Labour, but went on to remodel the entire economy, letting unprofitable nationalised industries go to the wall while privatising other state monopolies in order to enable international investment (for example, modernising the dire railway network or allowing greater innovation in telecoms). The deregulation of the City of London allowed British banks and investment companies to compete more aggressively around the world and become phenomenally successful. Selling council houses to their owners (as per the 1980 Housing Act) allowed millions of poor people to feel the pride and security of owning their own home for the first time. And, on the patriotic front, her staunch attitude in the Falklands War and victory against quite daunting odds, allowed tens of millions of Brits to feel proud about their country again.

I personally disagree with a lot of this or can point out the obvious criticisms of most of these policies – but 40% of the population enthusiastically agreed with it, saw the world this way, voted for her, and hero-worshipped her.

And my point is simple: None of that is in this exhibition. This is an exhibition of radical feminists, Black and Asian civil rights marchers, gay rights activists, of campaigners against race hate and misogyny and unemployment and nuclear weapons etc. It is like a collection of all the fringe groups you find at a Labour Party conference vying for the attention of those in power who are always too busy to listen, today as 40 years ago.

The large number of people who were relieved by the breaking of union power, the end of permanent strikes, the people who made fortunes in the City or found their pay doubling in newly privatised companies or suddenly owned a home for the first time in their lives or felt the government was (unlike labour) seriously backing them in the war against the IRA, all the people who benefitted from the booming North Sea oil industries in Aberdeen or working on the rigs, all the people who were encouraged by the new spirit of entrepreneurism to set up their own business and prospered – none of them are here.

To be clear, and to bend over backwards for the curators, the main wall labels which introduce each room and give the historical facts behind each theme are broadly objective historical summaries, albeit of the predominantly leftish issues they’ve chosen to discuss. It’s the selection of photos and objects which are unrelentingly one-sided, tendentious and biased and it is, of course, these which make the main impact on the visitor.

For example, the exhibition includes a photo by Anna Fox of this jokey cutout of Mrs Thatcher which has been splattered with orange or something. But to really convey the atmosphere of the decade it should have included many more images of Thatcher, including some of the terrifying ones of her at her most domineering. Now I think about it, the show could have had an entire section devoted just to images of Mrs Thatcher, showcasing all the photographic and image manipulation styles of the day, from adoring Conservative posters to satirical photomontages by Peter Kennard or photos of the Spitting Image puppet of her. That would have been interesting, funny and thought provoking but no. Just this image of the cutout spattered with soup. Disappointing. Missed opportunity. Photos of the woman who dominated a decade.

Friendly Fire, target (Margaret Thatcher) by Anna Fox 1989 © Anna Fox

The relentlessly left-wing perspective of the curators quickly comes to feel so narrow. Can it really be true that every single photographer, photographic studio or collective during the entire 1980s was vehemently left wing, concerned only with radical causes, with ‘pushing boundaries’ and ‘subverting’ all the usual suspects (gender norms, heteronormative stereotypes, racist myths etc)? Can the entire decade‘s photographic output really have been so narrow, repetitive and obsessed with the same handful of left-wing themes and issues?

Facts about the exhibition

This is a vast show: ten rooms, 16 themes, over 70 ‘lens-based artists and collectives’ are represented by over 550 art works and archive items: lots of ‘radical’ photography magazines such as Ten.8 and Camerawork; lots of posters, leaflets, handouts, Greenham Common posters and flyers and badges, anti-racism pamphlets, posters etc. It is massive. Prepare to be overwhelmed and exhausted.

No reasonable human being can be expected to fully process and assess 550 photos and objects at one go – so the curators are either assuming people will go back a second time (probably a good idea) or will hop from one section to another, or will skim through and not give anything enough attention (all too likely).

The negative affect of this jumble-sale overcrowding is exemplified by the sections devoted to the black-and-white documentary photography of two photographers I revere, Tish Murtha and Chris Killip. I raved about their depictions of dirt-poor working class communities when I first saw them in shows at the Photographer’s Gallery entirely devoted to their work, when they had a devastating impact on me. Tish Murtha, in particular, was a photographer of genius.

But here, half a dozen of their (outstanding) photos are wedged in between 6 by someone else, 9 by someone else, 4 by someone else, 7 by someone else, a section about Asian identity, another about the Black Experience, some stuff about pollution in Devon, a sequence of seaside snaps… and so on and so on until the whole thing becomes a blur. They both deserve a better environment and more respect.

Critch’ and Sean by Chris Killip (1982) Tate © Chris Killip

It’s the difference between walking through a landscape, stopping to give every tree and plant time and attention – and driving through the same landscape in a car, noticing the occasional standout feature against the general blur.

Chronological slippage

The exhibition is so huge that it overflows its own boundaries. It is everywhere referred to as ‘The 80s’ and yet the first photo dates from 1976 and the last one from 1993. That’s a 17-year spread, not a ten-year one. It feels bloated chronologically as well as content-wise.

Exhibition structure

At one point I drafted a long section comparing my own lived experience of the 1980s (including going on protest marches as a student, then living in the Brixton depicted in some of these photos, clubbing, protesting, walking through one of the Brixton riots etc) with the depictions given here but it got too long and irrelevant. Instead here is a boiled-down version of Tate’s own exhibition guide (which you can read in full here).

As you can see, the opening sections tick all the boxes, contain interesting facts and seem set fair to give you an interesting historical overview of the decade. It’s only slowly that the curators’ obsession with race and gender become more prominent and you begin to wonder, and then become irritated by, the absence of so many other things.

First a list of what is in the exhibition. Then my list of what, in my opinion, has been omitted.

1. Documenting the decade

Protests and riots from the 1976 Grunwick strike through the Miners Strike, National Front rallies met with anti-racist demonstrations, the Clash playing their famous Rock Against Racism gig in Victoria Park, the election of Mrs Thatcher and the ideology of Thatcherism, Greenham Common (obviously), the poll tax riots.

Paul Simonon of the Clash at a Rock Against Racism concert, Victoria Park, East London, April 1978, photo by Syd Sheldon/White Riot, in The 80s: Photographing Britain at Tate Britain

2. Anti-racist movements

The 1948 British Nationality Act allowed everyone born in Britain or its Empire to become a ‘Citizen of the United Kingdom and Colonies’ and tens of thousands came to fill job vacancies. Regrettably, sometimes tragically, this triggered hostility and racial discrimination, marking the beginning of decades of racist rhetoric, rioting and civil rights activism. 1968 Enoch Powell’s river of blood speech. By the mid-1970s, the far-right, anti-immigration National Front was England’s fourth largest political party. So the show has many photos of their rallies and protests by opponents (and posters, badges and flyers), including quite a few about the so-called Battle of Lewisham which took place on 13 August 1977.

Darcus Howe addressing the anti-racist demonstrators, Lewisham, 13 August 1977 by Syd Shelton (1977) Tate © Syd Shelton

Was 1977 in the 1980s? No. Why is it in the exhibition? Because this isn’t an exhibition about the 1980s: it is an exhibition about radical causes the curators support, and which had their origins in the 1970s.

Also, a bit of digging revealed that quite a few of the black-and-white protest photos in this first room are loans from the National Portrait Gallery a mile up the road. Handy. And they’re not just dusty old photos from the archive but are, in fact, star entries in the National Portrait Gallery’s Schools Hub. This includes the Darcus Howe photo and the photo of Jayaben Desai by David Mansell.

3. The Miners’ strike

In March 1984, the National Coal Board announced plans to close 20 collieries, putting 20,000 jobs at risk. The National Union of Mineworkers, led by Arthur Scargill, responded with a series of year-long strikes. Observed across England, Scotland and Wales, the strikes put industrial issues and workers’ rights on the national agenda. Many dramatic photos including the famous one of a mounted policeman wielding a baton against photographer Lesley Boulton at the Battle of Orgreave, 1984.

4. Greenham Common

On 5 September 1981, a group of women marched from Cardiff to the Royal Air Force base at Greenham Common in Berkshire. The site was common land, loaned to the US Air Force by the British Government during the Second World War and never returned. The group called themselves Women for Life on Earth. They were challenging the decision to house nuclear missiles at the site. When their request for a debate was ignored, they set up camp and the site became a women-only space. The camp lasted for 19 years although it was after only 6 years, in 1987, that Soviet President Mikhail Gorbachev and US President Ronald Reagan signed a treaty which paved the way for the removal of cruise missiles from Greenham.

Greenham Common, 14 December 1985 by Melanie Friend (1985) reprinted 2023. © Melanie Friend, Format Photographers

I smiled when the curators proudly explained that Gorbachev subsequently paid tribute to the role ‘Greenham women and peace movements’ played in this historic agreement as if they, the curators, were partly responsible for its achievements. And I also liked the implication that you should always believe what a Russian politician says.

The massive political exhibition which filled the same Tate Britain galleries before this, Women In Revolt! Art and Activism in the UK 1970 to 1990, also featured an entire room about Greenham Common. My friend jokingly suggested that maybe every Tate exhibition should have a section devoted to Greenham Common: The Pre-Raphaelites and Greenham Common. Victorian sculpture and Greenham Common.

5. Poll Tax

The community charge, commonly known as the ‘poll tax’, was introduced by Margaret Thatcher’s Conservative government in 1989 in Scotland, and 1990 in England and Wales. This flat-rate tax on every adult replaced previous taxation based on property value. The tax was accused of benefitting the rich and unfairly targeting the poor. The national anti-poll tax movement began on the streets of Glasgow and led to a series of anti-poll tax actions across the UK. Many demonstrations saw clashes between police and protestors, and resulted in rioting. The fallout from the tax triggered leadership challenges against the prime minister and, in 1990, Thatcher resigned. In 1991, following vehement national opposition, John Major’s Conservative government announced the poll tax would be replaced by council tax.

So news photos of anti-poll tax marches, some of which turned into riots, ‘ordinary people’ carrying placards, burning cars in Trafalgar Square. Ah, those were the days.

Nidge and Laurence Kissing by David Hoffman (1990) © David Hoffman

6. The Gay Rights Movement

In 1967, the Sexual Offences Act partially decriminalised sexual acts between two men. It was the result of decades of campaigning but did nothing to address the discrimination gay and lesbian communities continued to face. So photos of LGBTQ+ people protesting for equal rights.

In 1981 the UK saw its first identified cases of AIDS. By 1987 the HIV/AIDS epidemic was a global health crisis. The public focus was largely on gay men who were being infected in much greater numbers than the general population, fuelling anti-gay rhetoric in politics and the press. Queer activists organised in opposition to the resulting homophobia, as well as Conservative ‘family values’ campaigns. Do you remember some media labelling it the gay plague? Bigotry on a national scale. Lots of photos of anti-homophobia and AIDS awareness marches.

7. (Political) Landscapes

This is the first and, as it turns out, pretty much the only section which isn’t about political protest, gender awareness and Black issues. But don’t imagine it’s pretty photos of the British Isles. It, also, takes a heavily ‘theoretical’ i.e. politicised approach to its subject.

This section points out how the entire concept of ‘landscape’ is socially, culturally and politically constructed, and how the British tendency to see the countryside as cosy and reassuring often conceals the way the land has been a battlefield for rights to common land and to roam.

Also, in line with the gloomy focus elsewhere in the show, there’s an emphasis on landscapes as places of deindustrialisation and ruins, and as degraded by pollution and fly tipping.

That said this room contained some of the best sets of images, neither part of the obvious political issues of the first few rooms nor of the gender and race obsession of the second half of the exhibition. Having walked through the whole exhibition twice I found myself gravitating towards this room for the understated, sometimes elusive quality of its photos.

For example, I liked the red river sequence by Jem Southam, a set of 12 colour photos of the country around a stream in west Cornwall. None of them individually are ‘great’ photos but the fact there’s 12 of them collectively creates a great sense of location and strangeness. And the dramatic black-and-white study of a standing stone on Orkney by Albert Watson.

Orkney Standing Stones by Albert Watson (1991) © Albert Watson. Courtesy Hamilton Gallery

But the pull of politics is unavoidable. Nearby are upsetting images from the Troubles in Northern Ireland, namely The Walls by Willie Doherty, and the disturbing series Sectarian Murder by Paul Seawright. This records the sites where murdered bodies were found, after the bodies had been removed and they had returned to their normal, litter-strewn banality.

Even this apparently bucolic image by Paul Graham contains the tiny detail of a Union Jack high up in the tree which, in its little way, throws the shadow of 800 years of history across the green fields and blue sky.

Union Jack Flag in Tree, Country Tyrone by Paul Graham (1985) © Paul Graham

8. Remodelling history

Extensive coverage of radical feminist photographers Jo Spence and Maud Sulter who set out to ‘challenge photography’s sexist and colonial past’, and its relationship to class politics.

Remodelling Photo History: Revisualization by Jo Spence (1982) Tate © The Jo Spence Memorial Archive

There’s a surprising amount about these two figures, Spence and Sulter, including a separate section on Spence’s collaboration with artist Rosy Martin to develop photo-therapy. As with other Tate exhibitions, maybe there’s so much of it simply because Tate owns their archive and needs a pretext to display a decent amount of their work. (We’ll see the same is true of the unexpected prominence given to an American photographer, Lyle Ashton Harris, at the end of the show. Tate owns them so this is a prime opportunity to dust them off and display them.)

9. Black women

There’s a separate section devoted to Maud Sulter who’s quoted as saying, ‘Black women’s experience and Black women’s contribution to culture is so often erased and marginalised’, and so set about rectifying this in series of photos of her dressed up in period costume looking like an extra from Bridgerton.

Zabat, Terpsichore, 1989 from Zabat by Maud Sulter (1989) © Estate of Maud Sulter. All rights reserved, DACS/Artimage 2023. Image courtesy of Street Level Photoworks, Glasgow

10. Image and Text

A section on the use of text in photos, texts designed to amplify or undermine the central image. There is much citing of the artist and theorist Victor Burgin who, the curators tell us, was very influential during this period. He’s represented by some of his series of large, poster-sized photos which include ironical texts, titled ‘UK 76‘. 1976? But I thought this was an exhibition of photography from the 1980s? No. As with all the photos of anti-National Front marches, the Battle of Lewisham and so on, the curators bend their own rules and boundaries when it suits them. (As with the Jason Evans photo at the top of this review, and Albert Watson’s Orkney Standing Stones, both from 1991 and so spilling over the other end of the boundary.)

This section also included some big poster-sized images of rubbish new townscapes with official-sounding quotes from brochures pasted on top (which I liked very much). And it’s the section with the satirical images of office workers by Anna Fox (with mockingly ironic text) and Kroll’s sequence of posh chaps in private clubs (with mockingly ironic text) which I’ll describe below.

10. Reflections of The Black Experience

This is the biggest room in the exhibition. It takes its name from ‘Reflections of the Black Experience’ which was an exhibition held at Brixton Art Gallery in 1986, commissioned by the Greater London Council’s Race Equality Unit. It was followed by D-MAX: A Photographic Exhibition in Bristol.

Both exhibitions played an important role in the development of the Association of Black Photographers, which is now called Autograph ABP. Established in 1988, Autograph’s mission was to advocate for the inclusion of ‘historically marginalised photographic practices’. Working from a small office in Brixton, the agency delivered an ambitious programme of exhibitions, publications and events. Autograph is now one of my favourite small galleries in London, which I’ll discuss below.

There’s lots in this big room, including photos of Brixton from the later 1980s, when I lived there. The display that made the most impact on me was the brilliant series of Handsworth self portraits. This project was set up by Derek Bishton, Brian Homer and John Reardon in which they set up a makeshift studio in Handsworth, a multicultural part of Birmingham, and invited people to take self portraits of themselves. Over 500 people took part and the joy of people messing about, as solo shots, in pairs or larger family groups, is infectious. Once again, though, as throughout the show, works are included from outside the nominal time range because, well, they’re good.

Ting A Ling, from Handsworth Self Portrait, 1979 © Derek Bishton, Brian Homer and John Reardon

11. (Political) Self portraiture

You might have thought this would feature a fascinating range of self portraits by people across society throughout the ten years of the 1980s but no, this is Tate and so only a handful of social groups really count, namely radical feminists, Black activists and LGBTQ+ people. In the curators’ words:

In the nineteenth century, photography was a valuable tool for colonial powers. Ethnographic images of Indigenous Peoples and landscapes were distributed through postcards and magazines. They ‘othered’ subjects and created racist stereotypes that legitimised the mission of empire. The photographs on display here challenge this colonial gaze. They present nuanced, multi-dimensional representations of Black and Asian British selfhood.

So the self portraits in this section are entirely concerned with subverting imperialist, colonialist stereotypes. They link up with the series in the last room by Grace Lau of him or herself dressing up as types from the decade in order to subvert gender norms etc.

From the series ‘Interiors’ by Grace Lau © Grace Lau 1986

Black activists or gender activists. Little attempt to consider the myriad other types of self portrait taken outside these areas, by anybody else, at any other part of the decade.

12. Community

This room hosts series from half a dozen photographers who went to live with communities around the UK to share their experiences and create accurate depictions. Most are in black and white with a 100% left-wing focus on poverty, crappy housing, unemployment, aggressive policing and racial stereotypical. It includes outstanding photos by Chris Killip which, for some reason, didn’t hit me as hard as when I saw his one-man show at the Photographers’ Gallery. I think being set next to the work of 3 or 4 other photographers (for example, the equally as good Sirkka-Liisa Konttinen) doing more or less the same, attenuated all of them.

13. Colour photography

A room full of big, blaring, gaudy colour photos. Apparently, Britain’s first exhibition of photography taken on colour film was Peter Mitchell’s 1979 show at Impressions Gallery in York. During the 1980s technological developments continually improved the quality of colour photography and this room brings together sequences of giant colour photographs by Martin Parr, Paul Reas and Tom Wood. Because they are almost entirely very unflattering photos of very ordinary white people I came to think of it as the Chav Room or the White Trash Room (fuller explanation below).

14. Black bodyscapes

In case you didn’t get enough Blackness in the opening room about anti-racist protests, in the room about Black women or the massive room about The Black Experience, here is a room devoted to the Black Queer Experience. The assembled photographs of Rotimi Fani-Kayode, Ajamu X and Lyle Ashton Harris ‘explore masculinity, sexuality and Blackness’.

Fani-Kayode was described by Ajamu X as ‘the most visible, out, Black, queer photographer’ of the 1980s’. Ajamu X’s desire to document ‘the whole of Black queer Britain’ has been dubbed ‘Pleasure Activism’. Harris describes his photographs as a celebration of ‘Black beauty and sensuality’. The photos of Ajamu (black and white) and Fani-Koyode (moody, shadowy colour) are, in their different ways, staggeringly impactful.

Body Builder in Bra by Ajamu X (1990) Tate © Ajamu X

15. Celebrating subculture

The final room. You might have thought that a documentary look at the ‘subcultures of the 1980s’ might have covered some of the movements closely associated with ever-changing fashions of pop music such as post-punk, industrial music, Goths, New Romantics, synthpop and, later, Madchester, acid house, raves and so on. These affected how people dressed, thought about themselves, danced, partied, affected not just styles of music but graphics, album art, posters and many other types of visual content.

But no. None of that is here. Tate curators only know two subjects, race and sex, gender and ethnicity, and so they ignore all the pop cultures I’ve listed. Instead, at the mention of ‘subculture’ their thoughts immediately go to gender issues, to LGBTQ+, and to the furore surrounding the notorious Section 28 of the Local Government Act.

The wall labels go into great detail about how Section 28 prohibited local authorities from ‘promoting homosexuality’ and triggered a wave of protest from gay and lesbian communities. They tell us how Section 28 forced many LGBT groups to disband and saw literature depicting gay life removed from schools and libraries, but that it also galvanised the Gay Rights movement. People took to the streets in a series of marches and so, with thumping predictability, the exhibition ends with lots of photographs of people protesting, marches, banners etc, very much as in the first room, or the Greenham Common room, or the Black Experience room.

If you’re maybe a little bored by the subject of gay activism, tough, because not far away there’s photos by Tessa Boffin who ‘subversively reimagines literary characters as lesbians’, while nearby Grace Lau ‘documents members of various fetishist sub-cultures’.

To be crystal clear, none of this is ‘bad’ in itself, some of it is very good. It’s just that by this stage the visitor who’s been reading all the wall labels is exhausted by the curators’ obsessive harping on just the same two or three subjects to the exclusion of everything else.

End of exhibition summary

I suppose I could stop here, having given you a good summary of what there is to see and my own negative response to it. And you might be wise to stop reading here. But several things triggered me so much I needed to work them through in print.


Omitted subjects

As explained, my friend and I got increasingly frustrated as we looked for evidence of the other, non-political, non-woke aspects of the 1980s which we and millions like us like us experienced. Without trying too hard I made a list of the domestic and international events, music, style and commercial changes which I associate the decade with.

Take sport. There’s nothing about sport at all. Apparently there was no sport during the 1980s and no sports photography. Even if you wanted to ‘keep it Tate’ and make sport as political as possible, they could have mentioned the disastrous Bradford City stadium fire, the legislation which followed forcing all football grounds to become all-seated, and the resulting accusations that the sport was losing its working class fanbase and becoming embourgeoisified. And there were lots of other sporting events, highlights and scandals. But not a hint here.

Pop music. There’s one photo of The Clash performing at a Rock Against Racism gig in Victoria Park and that’s it. Nothing else: no industrial rock, post-punk, synth pop, New Romantics, no Smiths and, at the end of the decade, no Madchester, no ecstasy, no raves, no ambient music. There’s a wall of style magazines at the end, sections on the impact of, for example, i-D magazine, but somehow the curators’ focus purely on design manages to omit the extraordinary output of a decade many consider the greatest era in British pop history. Where’s Wham for God’s sake?

This was the decade when MTV arrived in the UK (1981) and its reliance on pop videos changed the dynamic of how people consumed pop. Same with cable TV generally, and the arrival of Sky TV (1984) with its crazy aerials. I appreciate these aren’t photographic but someone must have taken photographs of them and of this huge transformation of the cultural and visual landscape. Not here.

No jazz. No classical music. None. They didn’t exist during the 1980s or if they did, no one took any photos of them. Whereas I remember in the early 1980s transitioning away from pop music altogether and listening to the likes of Courtney Pine, Loose Tubes or Andy Shepherd. OK they’re not photographers, but it felt like a big cultural shift at the time and surely someone took photos of them.

World music same. Lots of young people got fed up with boring old rock music and sought new sounds from around the world. WOMAD (World of Music, Arts and Dance) was founded in 1980 and the first WOMAD festival was held in Shepton Mallet 1982. Nothing here.

Live Aid, remember that, Saturday, 13 July 1985? Not here, not a whisper, not so much of the event itself, but as the invention of really epic mass charity events which it invented. It was based around images because of Bob Geldof’s response to Michael Buerk’s reporting of the Ethiopia famine. I know that’s TV reporting, but there were lots of photographs of it (of the famine and of the concert). Why is Greenham Common included but Live Aid, which was a vastly bigger event and, arguably, more socially transformative, not? All curators are feminists. 39 iconic photos of Live Aid at London’s Wembley Stadium

Fashion photography? No. None. There’s a wall about style magazines but this is chiefly about the magazine design itself: I saw nothing recording the drastic new looks which appeared in the early 1980s, the New Romantics, Blitz nightclub, big hair, big shoulder pads which became crazy fashionable. According to this exhibition, never happened. 38 Iconic ’80s Fashion Photos.

The royal wedding On Wednesday 29 July 1981 Prince Charles married Lady Diana Spencer. It was a huge social and media event. If you think about it, royal photography is a specialised area or genre all to itself. As with Mrs Thatcher, the curators could have done an intellectually reputable section on how royal images are created, curated, marketed and disseminated, mocked and satirised. 70 Rare Photos From Princess Diana’s Wedding.

The Brighton bombing on 12 October 1984. See the relevant photos by brilliant photojournalist John Downing.

Architecture The 1980s was the great decade of postmodernism in architecture with its flagship building, Lloyds of London. Surely there were photographers specialising in the built environment across the UK and in particular this completely new look which swept across Britain? Not according to this exhibition. A Spotter’s Guide to Post-Modern Architecture.

Foreign reporting? Live Aid was of course a response to the Ethiopian famine and, in particular, the work of photojournalist Mohamed Amin, but there is no photography of events outside the UK in this exhibition. I take the point that the curators decided to limit their scope to the UK, but images of the major foreign stories of the decade were published in the UK and many taken by British photographers. So why aren’t they included here? How Mo Amin Inspired Change in Ethiopia

Chernobyl? No. No British photography of any aspect of it.

The Mujahideen in Afghanistan? Signature images of the decade were the reports on the evening news by some BBC or ITV journalist wearing a keffiyeh or pakol hat while Islamic freedom fighters fired off a Stinger missile in the background. Did no British photographers take any photos of this ten-year war? If they did, why are they excluded from this exhibition? To take one example from hundreds, the Afghan War photos of Scottish photographer David Pratt.

The fall of the Berlin Wall, 9 November 1989. That was a massive, world historic event with photos and footage beamed into every home. The curators can quote Gorbachev when it suits their agenda, when he’s praising the Greenham women, but on none of the other vast issues of the 1980s, namely the collapse of communism and the Soviet Union in which he was the prime actor.

Photos linked to film and theatre, glitz, actors, red carpets – forget Hollywood, just here in the UK? No. Didn’t happen during the 1980s. None here.

One of the biggest domestic stories of the decade was the deregulation of the City of London, nicknamed the Big Bang, which transformed the worlds of finance, banking and insurance, and made lots of people very rich, with far-reaching consequences for the British and maybe global economies. There’s text about it in the room labels but not a single image. Surely someone took photos of the changing culture in the City of London? No? Why not?

North Sea oil? Nada. Did no British photographer take photos of oil workers, Aberdeen, the creation of the refining infrastructure in that boom town? No photographer made a project of recording all this?

And what about The Falklands War (2 April to 14 June 1982) which had a seismic impact on British society and politics – footage of ships setting sail, news photos of battles, muddy paratroopers yomping through the long grass, looking shattered after a firefight, guarding nervous Argentinian captives, the celebrations when the ships arrived back in Portsmouth or Southampton? Even, if you are a Tate curator and insist on taking a left-wing view of the war, surely there was a world of anti-war photos, posters, and what not. Here are 30 Photographs From The Falklands Conflict they could have borrowed from the Imperial War Museum. But no, nothing, zip. Zilch.

Summary

Can you see why I became increasingly dismayed, and then irritated, by how many issues, events, music and fashion styles, new industries and technological innovations that were absolutely central to the 1980s the Tate curators left out because they didn’t fit their handful of woke concerns?

Omitted ethnic groups

As I’ve shown there is plenty of stuff about Black photographers, Black resistance, Black identity, Black photographic practice, Black selfhood, Black representation and much more and yet there are other ethnic groups in the UK – where are they?

From the series Revival, London by Roy Mehta (1989 to 1993) Courtesy of the artist and L A Noble Gallery

It’s not that extensive coverage of Black issues is ‘wrong’, it’s that the curators’ monomaniacal obsession feels like it comes at the neglect of all the other issues, types of people, professions and experiences alive in 1980s UK. Here are some wall labels to recreate the experience:

Frustrated by the misrepresentation of Black people in British mainstream media of the period, Zak Ové used his camera to challenge this visual discourse.

Dave Lewis‘s photographs of Black British communities in South London emphasise the diversity of experiences within these communities.

Marc Boothe‘s photographs sought to challenge traditional documentary practices and introduce viewers to a ‘Black aesthetic’.

Suzanne Rodan‘s candid shots capture moments of everyday life within Black and South Asian communities in 1980s London.

In Impressions Passing Roshini Kempadoo manipulates photographic prints to reflect how racist imagery is perpetuated in modern media.

Ajamu‘s portrait photographic series Black Bodyscapes focuses on intimate sexual desires.

Autoportrait is a series of nine self-portraits which challenge the under-representation of Black women in British fashion and beauty magazines.

Magenta Dress with Pink Tulips by Joy Gregory (1984) Courtesy of the Artist © Joy Gregory. All rights reserved, DACS

To be fair, there’s also quite a lot in the early rooms about the Asian experience, starting with the very first photos of the 1976 Grunwick strike which was triggered by Asian women walking out of the Grunwick Film Processing Laboratories in Dollis Hill. In that first room there are photos of Asians protesting about racism, against police violence (again, from the 1970s). The ‘Representing the Black Experience’ room also contains images of many Asians. The Communities room has some quieter photos celebrating Asian communities, religious festivals and so on.

Outside police station, Bethnal Green Road, London E2, 17 July 1978. Sit down protest against police racism, 1978 by Paul Trevor © Paul Trevor

I smiled when I saw the section devoted to Indian-born Canadian photographer Sunil Gupta. Gupta also has a wall dedicated to him at the Barbican exhibition of contemporary Indian art, and had no fewer than three sections dedicated to him in the Barbican’s epic exhibition about Masculinity.

Why is Sunil Gupta so popular with art curators? Because he is Asian and gay and so ticks two boxes in the curator’s diversity and inclusion checklist. No exhibition of 1980s or ’90s photography dare be without its Sunil Guptas. Now, you may love Gupta’s work but I found the photos at the Barbican and again, here, very meh. He is represented by ‘Pretended Family Relationships which juxtaposes portraits of queer couples with the legislative wording of Section 28 in order to subvert the blah blah bah. They seemed very average to me, but they are gay activism, so he’s in!

Anyway, despite the Asian presence in many of the photos, the word ‘Asian’ appears precisely once in the exhibition guide while the word ‘Black’ appears 27 times. Draw your own conclusion.

And were they any other ethnic groups in the UK in the 1980s? Apparently not. I tell you a word which doesn’t appear anywhere in the exhibition, which is ‘Jew’. Apparently there were no Jewish photographers in Britain during the 1980s and no Jews to photograph. In the ‘Community’ room there are (inevitably) Black communities, Asian communities and working class communities, but no Jewish community. Didn’t exist or no one bothered to photograph it.

In the same spirit of omission, there are no photos by or of Chinese, Arabs or Muslims. They either didn’t take photographs during the 1980s or have been omitted by the curators. Why? Hispanic communities, all the Brazilians in Stockwell, or European immigrants like the Poles, or the Somalis of Streatham, just to mention ethnic communities I live near? No. Nada.

Because feminism, Black and queer is where the money is. It’s where the academic courses and academic careers are. When I flicked through the exhibition catalogue and saw chapters titled ‘Feminist praxis’ and ‘Challenging colonialism’ I couldn’t help laughing. That’s where the money is, kids. Specialise in those areas and you’ll never be unemployed. Unlike being a trawlerman or a steel worker, being an expert in feminist praxis or post-colonial theory is a career for life.

Underground Classic (John Taylor) by Zak Ové (1986) © Zak Ové

Why Yanks?

Remember I was irritated by the lack of coverage of central events of the 1980s like Chernobyl, Afghan War, the fall of the Berlin Wall and so on while it seemed fine to have stuff about strikes or race riots from the 1970s? You could argue that those pivotal events are omitted because they’re in some sense foreign / happened abroad – which is why I was irritated by the presence of an American photographer, Lyle Ashton Harris, in the exhibition.

Why, you might well ask, are nine photos by American photographer Lyle Ashton Harris (born and works in New York) of American subjects – including one titled ‘Miss America’ – included in an exhibition about Britain and British photographers in the 1980s? Why is one entire wall devoted to four massive self portraits of the American photographer wearing bits of ballet costume?

Constructs 10 to 13 by Lyle Ashton Harris (1989) Tate

Because 1) Harris is Black and queer and, with Tate curators, Black or Queer trumps all other considerations, including the criteria of their own exhibition.

Because 2) America is like heroin to art curators. Everything ends up being about America.

And because 3) it turns out, after a bit of digging, that Tate owns these big Lyle Ashton Harris photos and so, like the room devoted to extensive coverage of Jo Spence and Maud Sulter – whose archives Tate also owns – it’s a good example of the way exhibitions are created around what a gallery already owns, or what curators can cheaply get their hands on, rather than an accurate, objective exploration of the nominal subject matter.

Conclusion

I hope you can see now why I told you this is very much not a photographic history of Britain in the 1980s – it is a selection of ‘radical’ left-wing, feminist, politically committed Black and Asian or LGBTQ+ photographers who were working from the late 1970s through to the early 1990s, some of whose work touches on social or political issues from the time, but a lot simply doesn’t. Unless you consider gay pride or feminism or anti-racism as uniquely 1980s phenomena – which, of course, they very much weren’t and aren’t.

Photos of the white working class

Amid the radical deconstructions of colonialism and the subverting of heteronormative stereotypes and celebrations of the Black Queer Body, there are some powerful photos of British working class life. Two of the best photography exhibitions I’ve ever been to were of Tish Nurtha and Chris Killip at the Photographers’ Gallery in Soho, and both are represented here by half a dozen or so photos of supernatural power. In this vast show they were, however, swamped by so many other images along similar lines, and so neither of them had the devastating power of their Photographers’ Gallery shows.

There’s a set of vividly squalid colour photos by Paul Graham of the unemployed waiting like souls in hell in smelly 1980s job centres. Ken Grant took grim photos of working class people in and around Liverpool. There’s an excellent set of black-and-white photos of working class white people on the Meadow Wall Estate in North Shields taken by Finnish photographer Sirkka-Liisa Konttinen.

Apparently it was in the 1980s that the phrase poverty porn was first used and, somehow, having so many series of stark black-and-white photos of poor people living in squalid or sad circumstances, demonstrated the law of diminishing returns. They began to seem rather samey. Again, this feels like an example of poor curatorship.

Photos of the white middle class

And what about the middle class people, the political, cultural and demographic centre of the United Kingdom? Not just the 13 million who consistently voted for Mrs Thatcher but all the people who made up the bulk of the population: the accountants or lawyers, doctor and dentists, people running family businesses or working at big corporations, the police and fire and ambulance services, people who worked in local government, the social services, in thousands of care homes, in the hundreds of thousand of charities, ordinary people? Not Black or gay or radical feminists or horribly impoverished Brits, but run-of-the-mill, ordinary people like the hundreds I saw visiting this exhibition, people like you or me?

Well, it was hard to not to conclude that these kinds of people, what you could call the white bourgeoisie, appear in this exhibition solely to be mocked and ridiculed. Anna Fox is represented by a series titled Work Stations which satirises people working in London offices. These are horribly vivid colour shots of ordinary office workers captured in the most awkward and unflattering poses, accompanied by ironic captions pinched from business articles and magazines in order to take the piss out of them and their values. Here’s a prime example. The text under the photo reads ‘Fortunes are being made that are in line with the dreams of avarice’, from Business magazine 1987.

Work Stations, Café, the City. Salesperson by Anna Fox (1988) © Anna Fox. The Hyman Collection, Courtesy of the Centre for British Photography

Next to Fox is the Old Master of colour photodocumentary, Martin Parr, represented by works from his ‘Cost of Living’ series (1986 to 1989). Parr felt the kind of people he mixed with, the comfortably-off middle class, had been systematically under-represented by 1970s and ’80s photography, so he set out to depict them. So he simply went along to art gallery openings, garden parties, Conservative party fetes, and photographed the people he saw. Because it’s Parr deploying his customary, unforgiving colour technique, all these people come out looking extraordinarily awkward and ugly, just like the people in the Anna Fox series.

The mere fact that an expert on contemporary photography believed that this huge tranche of the British population, the middle classes, the inhabitants of Middle England, was under-represented in his medium speaks volumes about the narrow ideological focus of the photography of his day. And the way both Fox and Parr’s photos are described as ‘satirical’ confirms how this huge class of people have become, as pictorial subjects, almost an outsider group in their own country.

Installation view of the ‘satirising the white bourgeoisie’ corner at ‘The 80s: Photographing Britain’ at Tate Britain, with the Anna Fox sequence at the back, Martin Parr on the right. Photo © Tate (Jai Monaghan)

Near to the Parr ‘mocking the middle classes’ photos is a selection of 9 photos from the 26 in the famous series Gentlemen by Karen Knorr. Knorr was given permission to photograph the very posh members of the most exclusive gentlemen’s clubs in London’s St James’s district. Beautifully staged and shot, she then ironically undercut the images with texts taken from news reports and parliamentary speeches (just as Fox had done with her office workers). Again, the aim is to mock and satirise.

It’s hard to avoid the conclusion that all of the depictions of the English middle classes in this exhibition are associated with irony and satire. Now, nobody takes the mickey out of the Black or Asian or women subjects – they are all portrayed as dignified or joyous or righteously angry. But posh white people? Look at the ugly, rich, privileged wankers air kissing, answering phones, stuffing their faces!

The Colour Photography room gives interesting explanations of the technological developments which made colour photography cheaper and better – but it, also, flays its white subjects mercilessly. It includes another series by Parr, his famous seaside scenes, The Last Resort, in which everyone is captured in bright colour with unforgiving candour.

Next to them are half a dozen similarly merciless photos of very ordinary people in Welsh supermarkets by Paul Reas. Like Parr’s photos, like Fox’s series, these seem so pitilessly unflattering as to be actively cruel. The Photography of Cruelty. Or maybe just mockery. Look at the poor white chavs.

Hand of Pork, Caerphilly, South Wales by Paul Reas (1988) © Paul Reas. Martin Parr Foundation

White trash, Black gods

The humiliation of white chavs and poshos in Parr and Fox and Wood’s photos is emphasised by the way that, in the rooms directly before and after them, Black people are depicted in stylish black-and-white photos which make them look dignified, noble or even godlike.

In the room before the white chavs is this set of serious, searching portraits made by Pogus Caesar. They were taken on an Ilford HP 5 camera using 35mm film to achieve a rich grainy effect as he travelled round the country taking shots of people in the street, as far as I can see, solely Black people. They’re really good. Stylish and atmospheric, they dignify and enrich their subjects.

Installation view of ‘The 80s: Photographing Britain’ at Tate Britain showing ‘Into the Light’ by Pogus Caesar (1985 to 89) (photo by the author)

The room after the white trash room is the one titled ‘Black Bodyscapes’, the one featuring photos by Rotimi Fani-Kayode, Ajamu X and Lyle Ashton Harris, photos which ‘explore masculinity, sexuality and Blackness’. I dare say these are important issues to the curators but to the ordinary visitor what you see is a set of spectacularly buff Black male bodies. Wow! Gorgeous, hunky men in prime physical condition, what’s not to lust after?

The Golden Phallus by Rotimi Fani-Kayode (1989) © Rotimi Fani-Kayode / Autograph ABP. Courtesy of Autograph ABP

(I first encountered both Rotimi Fani-Kayode and Ajamu X at the drolly titled A Hard Man is Good to Find! exhibition at the Photographers’ Gallery, and loved them both. I dare say they’re exploring this issue and subverting that stereotype but they are also extraordinarily sexy pictures of beautiful male bodies.)

Anyway, it’s impossible to miss the stark contrast between the dignified Black people in Pogus Caesar, the stunning Black nudes of Fani-Kayode and Ajamu X, and the 15 or so images of the pale, pasty, fat, badly dressed white people captured by Wood, Parr and Reas in the Chavs Room. Step into the Black room to be thrilled. Then back into the white room to be appalled. This isn’t a contrived comparison. The two rooms are right next to each other. They make for an unavoidable and extremely powerful visual contrast.

Autograph ABP versus Tate

Autograph ABP in Hoxton specialises in photography by Black photographers from around the world and is maybe my favourite small gallery in London. Everything I’ve ever seen there has been outstanding. It is a centre of photographic excellence and I was interested to read about its history in the ‘Representing the Black Experience’ room here in this show.

But it also made me wonder, why do I love Black photography at ABP but bridle at the exact same work when it is shown here in Tate Britain? Three reasons. 1) The attitude of the curators. At ABP it is taken for granted that the work is by Black photographers. There may be some stuff about combatting racism, if relevant, but quite often the labels just explain the specifics of the particular project. The ABP curators treat their artists and visitors with respect, as if they’re grown-ups.

Whereas Tate curators can’t stop haranguing their visitors about the horrors of racism and colonialism and the white gaze, as if we’re first year arts students who need to have all the evils of the world explained to us in a tearing hurry. The photographers’ Blackness or queerness becomes the primary thing about them.

This is what I meant be saying the Tate curators treat their artists and works as specimens in extended lectures on their handful of woke topics, about the evils of capitalism and colonialism and racism and sexism, explaining all these issues in words of one syllable or less as if it’s the first time their visitors had ever heard of such things.

So I’m not bridling at the photographers or their works. In other contexts I’ve really loved many of them. I’m reacting very negatively to the patronising tone of Tate’s curators.

2) Individually, many of the works here are great but something negative happens when a load of works by different photographers are all bunched together in a room demonstrating a thesis. So, for example, when I first saw Rotimi Fani-Kayode’s photos, I read the captions about the queer sensibility and undermining stereotypes of Black male sexuality etc, but I also responded to their plain weirdness. To what they look like. These are strange, disconcerting, haunting images which trigger responses beyond the verbal or easily expressed. They did what all good art does which is take you to strange places in the imagination, open doors you didn’t know were there.

But here, lumped together in one room, they feel subservient to the curators’ concerns to lecture us all about the Black Queer Body. This is what I mean by turning art into specimens, pinned like butterflies to a board to make a point.

3) Bulk. Volume. Sheer number. Same point I made about Tish Murtha and Chris Killip. Seen by themselves, their work felt seismic. Bundled together with half a dozen photographers working on the same subject (dirt-poor white communities), and making the same point (Thatcherism, inequality, poverty = bad), a lot of the power and individuality leached out of them.

Message to the curators

  1. Less is more.
  2. If you’re going to group lots of artists together, doing it by their most obvious feature (feminists, Black, queer, working class) tends to diminish their individuality and impact. Think of more imaginative, left-field ways of arranging them. Try to create surprises.
  3. If you claim your exhibition is about a subject, please make an effort to make it fully and adequately about that subject and don’t just restrict it to the handful of woke subjects dear to your hearts plus chucking in some archives you happen to own. Make it about the world, not just the same three curator obsessions (gender, ethnicity, class).

Yet another conclusion

So you can see why, by the end, I was fed up of being lectured about the wonders of queerness and feminism and the Black body and post-colonial identity, and deeply disappointed that so much of the actual history of the 1980s, the global incidents or – just to restrict it to the UK – the key social and media events, and the changing face of technology, music and style which meant so much to me personally, had simply been left out.

This is why the friend I went with thought it was the worst exhibition we’d visited all year: because of its glaring omissions of loads of the things we liked and remembered about the 1980s, because of its systematic rewriting of cultural history to be only about radical left-wing artist-activists, because of its flagrant political bias, because of its mockery of the white middle class which (I’m afraid) I belong to (just like everyone else I saw visiting this show) but, above all, because of its terrible, terrible narrowness of vision.

Well, I’ve given you a strong flavour of my own negative reaction to the thing, but I’ve also tried to give an accurate summary of the exhibition structure, objective summaries of all the rooms, and a good selection of the images, along with the curators’ own words.

This is a massive, exhausting and deeply problematic exhibition – but there’s lots of very good stuff in it and maybe you’ll have a completely different response. Go along and make your own mind up.


Related links

Related reviews

The State of Africa: A History of the Continent since Independence by Martin Meredith (2005) – 2

This is a huge, 700-page, compendious history of all the African nations from independence (roughly the mid-1950s) to the time it was written (around 2010), so 55 years or so of modern African history.

Meredith chooses as epigraph to this big book the Latin tag from Pliny the Elder, ‘Ex Africa semper aliquid novi’ meaning ‘Out of Africa always something new’ – but a reading of the actual book confirms how utterly inappropriate this is. For if Meredith’s book demonstrates anything it is that, since independence, out of Africa have come the same five or six stereotypical narratives or events – civil war, one-party rule, dictatorship, economic collapse, famine, vast amounts of foreign aid – and the consistent failure to deliver the utopian dreams everyone hoped for in the heady first years of independence.

Two major contexts

Meredith only mentions them in passing but two broad historical contexts are worth bearing in mind.

  1. The independence movement in Algeria spiralled out of control into an appallingly brutal war which neither side was able to stop, and which threatened to tear the colonial power, France, apart. The war was at its worst in 1957 to 1961. The point is that Algeria stood as a terrible warning to the other colonial powers (Britain, Belgium, Portugal) of what might happen if they mismanaged things or delayed.
  2. The victory of Fidel Castro’s communists in Cuba in 1959 ushered in an era when the threat of the new African states falling to communism seemed very real and of global importance in the war between the two superpowers. Hence the head of the CIA warning President Eisenhower that Congo’s Patrice Lumumba might be ‘the African Castro’ and America’s feverish paranoia that if Congo fell to the communists it might influence the entire continent (p.104). Looking back, this level of anxiety seems exaggerated, even absurd. But the context is crucial in understanding the actions of all the colonial powers, but especially of America, which set about undermining left-wing governments and supporting right-wing, capitalism-loving dictators across the continent.

Both of these examples or precedents (Algeria, Cuba) lay behind the decisions of Britain and Belgian, in particular, not to linger or suppress independence movements. In other words, they added to the sense of urgency and haste which characterised the rush to make Africa independent, with such questionable results.

Part 1

1. The Gold Coast experiment (Ghana)

The tragic life of Kwame Nkrumah who went from political prisoner in the early 1950s, to lead his own political party, the Convention People’s Party, won the general election held under British auspices in 1954, before leading Ghana to independence in March 1957. Meredith vividly describes the week-long celebrations, attended by worthies from around the world including Zhou Enlai and Richard Nixon.

With a sickening inevitability Nkrumah found the new country difficult to rule, repressed political opposition and rigged elections. In 1964 he amended the constitution to make Ghana a one-party state, with himself as president for life. In 1966 Nkrumah was deposed in a coup led by the National Liberation Council.

2. Revolt on the Nile (Egypt)

Colonel Gamal Abdel Nasser led the 1952 revolution which overthrew the 32-year-old playboy King Farouk I. Much rhetoric about freedom and Arab socialism as Nasser tightened his grip on power, imprisoning rivals and getting elected president in 1956. The catastrophe of the Suez Crisis which put the nail in the coffin of the British Empire. From that moment Britain’s rush to decolonise picked up speed.

3. Land of the Setting Sun (Morocco, Tunisia, Algeria)

Apparently, the Arab word for north-west Africa, maghreb, means ‘land of the setting sun’ (as opposed to our word ‘Levant’ which means ‘rising’, to describe the old Ottoman Empire).

This chapter describes the descent of Algeria into a terrible insurgency which kicked off in the spring of 1954 with a wave of bomb attacks by the National Liberation Front (French: Front de libération nationale or FLN) with both sides slowly breaching their early declarations to target only combatants, so that by August 1954 the FLN was bombing civilian cafés and restaurants while the French security forces cracked down hard on the civilian Arab population, with large-scale arrests and torture.

An often overlooked aspect of the terrible war in Algeria (1956 to 1962) was that it made the French more amenable to granting its neighbours, Tunisia and Morocco, independence. Meredith describes the independence campaigning of Habib Bourguiba in Tunisia and Sultan Mohammed V in Morocco. The French arrested, imprisoned and exiled both these leaders, but eventually gave into widespread protests and both Morocco and Tunisia gained their independence in March 1956.

In 1957, amid an upsurge in terrorist bombings, the French governor of Algeria handed power over to the military, led by General Jacques Massu. The army locked down the capital city Algiers, ringing it with barbed wire, dividing it into sections which could be searched, cleared and then surveilled. Thousands of Algerians were arrested and tortured using electric shocks or waterboarding. It became known as The Battle of Algiers. In the country, peasants were rounded up into camps while native collaborator/spies (harkis) were deployed by the French.

By 1958 the FLN had been defeated, its leaders seeking refuge in Tunisia, whose new leader Bourguiba gave them sanctuary. However, the political system in France itself was in crisis. Violent disagreements about policy in Algeria led to the collapse of a series of short-lived governments. Worried that pacifist-defeatist politicians would gain power, in May 1958 the military took control of Algeria, allying with leading colons (white French colonists) to form a Committee of Public Safety. The French government declared a blockade, at which the Committee called for the return of the wartime hero, General de Gaulle.

4. L’Afrique Noire (Senegal, Ivory Coast)

L’Afrique Noire was the French term for the sub-Saharan part of its colonial empire, including Senegal and the Ivory Coast. Meredith describes the careers of Léopold Senghor of Senegal and Félix Houphouët-Boigny of Côte d’Ivoire.

5. Winds of Change (British colonies)

This chapter covers the independence movements in British colonies such as Nigeria.

Nigeria

Nigeria had only been created by the forcible union of north and south Nigeria in 1914, the north and south having themselves been slowly cobbled together from former, smaller protectorates since 1900. Nigeria could be divided into three great blocs: the north was Muslim and Hausa-speaking, with a conservative, feudal social system. It had few schools or colleges. The West, including the capital Lagos, was mostly Yoruba. Being on the coast, dotted with cities, it was more economically advanced and urban. In the East lived the Igpo who tended to be very well educated but had no social system of their own and so were scattered around Nigeria’s other territories. In addition there some 250 other ethnic groups, some of which protested and rebelled, including the Edo-speaking people of Benin province who longed to restore the kingdom of Benin. The British struggled with successive constitutions to try and create a balance between all these different constituencies. Nigeria was granted independence in 1960.

As a rule of thumb British colonies in West Africa were much more advanced than British colonies in East Africa (Kenya, Tanganyika) and Central Africa (north and south Rhodesia, Nyasaland). Politics in these latter countries was dominated by the fierce lobbying of the small white minorities, who dominated the local governors. Thus the settlers persuaded the Colonial Office to create a federation of Central Africa, consisting of Rhodesia and Nyasaland.

Kenya

Plans for a similar federation in East Africa were wrecked by the Mau Mau rebellion, which was an organised protest against the grotesque monopoly of the best agricultural land in Kenya by whites, and the land deprivation and lack of rights enforced on the million-strong Kikuyu population. Meredith gives a thorough account: the phrase mau mau actually meant nothing in Kikuyu, it was just a rallying call, and then the name given to the secret meetings where oaths of allegiance were sworn to the movement. Despite white paranoia, very few whites were actually killed during the so-called ’emergency’ (1952 to 1960), Meredith gives the number as 32, fewer than lost their lives in traffic accidents in Nairobi over the same period. He details British accusations that the Kikuyu leader Jomo Kenyatta, leader of the Kenya African Union (KAU) was involved, which led to a kangaroo court convicting and imprisoning him; and the brutal measures the British took against the insurgency, including setting up concentration camps.

The first Blacks were elected to Kenya’s legislative council in 1957. In October the Highlands area was formally opened to all races. The British thought they would continue to rule Kenya for at least another decade. In the event, independence was granted on December 12, 1963.

Nyasaland

Meredith gives the story of Nyasaland, to which the elderly Dr Hastings Banda returned as leader of the independence movement in 1959, determined to scupper Britain’s plans to make it part of a federation with Rhodesia. The colonial governor imported troops who tried to quell protests which turned into riots, troops shot, protesters killed, it becomes a nationwide movement etc.

Meanwhile, in neighbouring north Rhodesia, in the run-up to contested 1959 elections the authorities banned a leading nationalist party and imprisoned its leader, Kenneth Kaunda. Britain was losing its reputation for progressive colonialism in a welter of protests and arrests across all its African colonies.

Abruptly, Harold Macmillan’s conservative government gave in. Late in 1959 the Foreign Secretary Iain Macleod said further repression would lead to bloodshed. In February 1960 Macmillan gave his famous Winds of Change speech. Behind it was fear that further suppressing calls for independence would drive African nations into the hands of the communists. The British knew most of their colonies weren’t ready for independence – Meredith lists the pitiful number of native lawyers or administrators in the central and east African countries – but hurrying was a less bad option than delay, with the increasing repression, bloodshed and reputational damage that would inevitably entail.

6. Heart of Darkness (Congo)

The gruesome history of the Belgian Congo. It beggars belief that there are still statues of King Leopold II, one of the most blood-thirsty rulers in history, in Belgium. Congo was notable for four or five reasons:

  1. It was and is the largest country in Africa.
  2. The grotesque rule of Leopold II was probably the most evil, mass murdering of all the colonial regimes. As many as 10 million Congolese died during his rule, 1885 to 1908.
  3. Once the colony had been handed over to the Belgian government to run, it developed through the 20th century as one of the richest sources of minerals (particularly copper and diamonds) in the world.
  4. The rush to independence was hastiest and most foolhardy here than almost anywhere else. At independence Congo had 3 Black civil servants, 30 university graduates, no doctors, secondary school teachers or army officers. The firebrand new Prime Minister, Patrice Lumumba, had just four years of secondary school education plus one year in a technical college for postal clerks (p.95).
  5. With the result that within days of winning independence on 1 June 1960, Congo collapsed into chaos.

The army mutinied, the entire province of Katanga tried to secede, riots in the main cities included attacks on whites so that the entire Belgian community i.e. everyone who knew how to run the infrastructure of the country, fled in panic. Profile of the hectic unpredictable character of Lumumba, and the long dismal series of events which led, first to his arrest and, eventually, to his murder by Belgian and Congolese soldiers on the orders of his one-time lieutenant, Joseph-Désiré Mobutu, with the collusion of the UN and US, on 17 January 1961.

The stream of crises continued until Mobutu took power in a definitive military coup in 1965, and was to rule a one-party state for 32 years, until 1997.

7. The White South

South Africa

Meredith points out that the southern nations of Africa – north and south Rhodesia, south-west Africa and South Africa – looked at the other African countries gaining independence and were horrified by what they saw, especially the complete chaos punctuated by bloodbaths and military coups in Congo.

The fiercest response was in South Africa which in 1948 had established the system of apartheid and spent the next decades hardening the division between whites and blacks. Meredith chronicles the early history of the African National Congress (ANC), revolving round the figure of Nelson Mandela and the failure of peaceful efforts to counter apartheid. Peaceful protests such as general strikes became harder to justify after the SA authorities carried out the Sharpeville massacre on 21 March 1960, killing 69 protesters and injuring 180.

The more violent atmosphere heralded by the massacre led the ANC to establish the armed wing of the struggle, uMkhonto we Sizwe, in 1961. These guys carried out a not very effective sabotage campaign against a variety of infrastructure targets. In 1962 Mandela was arrested and imprisoned, despite a lack of evidence against him. But then in 1964 the authorities discovered the ANC and uMkhonto we Sizwe hideout at Rivonia, which was stuffed with incriminating documents. On the basis of these, Mandela was retried and, along with the key leadership of the ANC and uMkhonto, sentenced to life imprisonment on 12 June 1964.

Rhodesia

Meredith gives the history of Rhodesia, taking in the creation of the two independence parties, ZANU and ZAPU, up until November 1965 when Ian Smith‘s Rhodesian Front government, rebelling against pressure to grant Black independence, issued a Unilateral Declaration of Independence (UDI) from the mother government in the UK.

Angola

Angola was a backwater of the mouldering Portuguese empire, which was ruled by the dictator António de Oliveira Salazar. In 1956 the People’s Movement for the Liberation of Angola (Movimento Popular de Libertação de Angola or MPLA) was founded but police swoops in 1959 and 1960 arrested most of its leaders. In 1961 the colony was horrified by an outbreak of extreme violence in the north, where machete-wielding gangs massacred white bosses and the Blacks who worked for them. This was partly the work of a different group, the União dos Povos de Angola (UPA), run by Holden Roberto.

Mozambique

On the other side of the continent, in the other Portuguese colony, Mozambique, 1962 saw the creation of the Frente de Libertação de Moçambique (FRELIMO) which commenced a campaign of small-scale guerrilla attacks against border posts etc.

Dates of independence

1956 – Sudan, Morocco, Tunisia

1957 – Ghana

1958 – Guinea

1960 – Cameroon, Senegal, Togo, Mali, Madagascar, Democratic Republic of Congo (Belgian), Somalia, Benin, Niger, Burkina Faso, Ivory Coast, Chad, Central African Republic, Republic of Congo (France), Gabon, Nigeria, Mauritania,

1961 – Sierra Leone, Tanganyika

1962 – Burundi, Rwanda, Algeria, Uganda

1963 – Kenya, Zanzibar

1964 – Nyasaland (Malawi), North Rhodesia (Zambia)

1965 – Gambia

1966 – Botswana, Lesotho

1975 – Angola, Mozambique

1980 – Zimbabwe

1990 – Namibia

1993 – Eritrea

2011 – South Sudan

Part 2

8. The Birth of Nations

A chapter summarising the dire state of the geography and economies of most African nations at independence, and the consequent economic challenges they faced. It’s here that Meredith gives the shocking figures about the lack of African graduates or professionals right across the continent.

9. The First Dance of Freedom

Abandoning democracy

Meredith laments that almost all the new national leaders consciously disavowed democracy and instituted one-party rule. It’s interesting to read their justifications. It was claimed that democracy derived from advanced societies with well-defined classes and class interests which could be represented by political parties. By contrast, leaders like Nkomo and Kenyatta argued that while parties may have been necessary to organise and motivate different groupings in the fight against colonialism, now the colonialists had left and the nations were free, democracy represented a threat to African countries because the likelihood was that parties would come to be based on tribal or regional allegiances and so work to split and divide the nation. There’s actually a lot to this argument, as that’s what many African parties came to be, fronts for specific tribes or regional interests.

One-party rule

Regardless of the justifications, almost all the first leaders of the newly independent African nations went on to abolish democracy, establish one-party rule, declare themselves presidents for life, lock up any opposition figures (p.176), create cults of their greatness (p.180), set up a secret police which was told it could go to any lengths to save the state from communist or capitalist or imperialist subversion etc etc. These cults often took the name of the Great Leader – Nasserism, Nkrumahism and so on (p.163).

Corruption

And misuse money, in two specific ways: 1) instituting state-sponsored corruption at every level of society, while 2) spending fortunes on grandiose building projects, palaces, mansions, waterfront hotels. Presidents, ministers and powerful figures swiftly awarded themselves ‘the platinum lifestyle’ (p.171).While Nkrumah was crapping on about ‘African socialism’ his ministers made fortunes. Ghanaian minister Krobo Edusei caused a scandal when his wife ordered a £3,000 gold-plated bed from a London store. In later life he admitted to owning 14 homes, a luxury beach house, a London flat, expensive cars and six different bank accounts. African socialism.

Army coups

In 1958 in Sudan the army took control in Sudan from squabbling politicians. In 1963 Togo’s president was shot dead in a coup. In 1964 African mobs overthrew rule by the Arab elite and the sultan was forced to flee, the French army had to put down military coups in Gabon and Cameroon, while the British army suppressed army mutinies in Tanganyika, Uganda and Kenya. From 1965 coups became more frequent: in 1965 Algeria’s first leader was deposed; Mobutu overthrew president Joseph Kasa-Vubu in Congo; there was a military coup in Benin; Colonel Jean-Bedel Bokassa seized power in the Central African Republic, and so on.

10. Feet of Clay (Ghana)

An extended description of Kwame Nkrumah’s slow descent into authoritarian rule, isolation, paranoia, arbitrary arrest of opponents, accompanied by rising corruption. Meredith makes the pretty well-known point that patronage and corruption weren’t parasites on the system which could be eliminated; they were the system.

A detailed account of how Nkrumah destroyed the Ghana economy through mismanagement, ignorance, terrible accounting, disastrous decisions and so on. Incompetence on a national scale, plus classic withdrawal into dictator paranoia. And, also classically, when the army intervened it wasn’t for the good of the country – they’d happily watched it go to wrack and ruin – it was because Nkrumah started tampering with it, wishing to bring it directly under his control as he had done every other aspect of Ghanaian life. So it was that while Nkrumah was visiting China in 1966, the army deposed him. Joyous crowds celebrated in the streets, his statues was pulled down and portraits defaced. The kind of thing we were to see scores and scores of times in developing countries around the world over the past 60 years.

11. A House Divided (Nigeria)

Nigeria. Meredith explains the entirely tribal basis and vicious infighting of Nigerian politics which led up to the January 1966 military coup, in which the Supreme Council of the Revolution not just sacked but executed civilian politicians. And the complicated rivalries between North, West and East Nigeria which led leaders in the East to declare independence as Biafra, and the 3-year-long war which followed, in which up to 2 million Nigerians died.

12. Death of an Emperor (Ethiopia)

An entertaining account of the elaborate ritual which surrounded the Emperor Haile Selassie and the surprisingly aggressive imperial campaigns which had doubled his country’s size, starting back in the time of his ancestor Menelek (ruled 1889 to 1913), including the annexation of Eritrea and contested parts of Somaliland.

In the early 1970s mismanagement, especially of a famine in Wollo, protests by various sectors, and Selassie’s hastening senility, emboldened a group of army officers, who called themselves the Derg, to stage a coup in stages throughout 1974, which ended with the complete overthrow of Selassie on 12 September. In November the junta executed 60 former officials of the imperial government plus dissident elements within the Derg itself, by firing squad, and Ethiopia was declared a republic to be governed on Marxist-Leninist lines.

  • The Emperor: Downfall of an Autocrat by Ryszard Kapuściński (1978)

13. The Coming of Tyrants

After the first few heroic years of optimism, the military coups began. But worse was the advent of the monsters: Abaid Karume in Zanzibar (1964 to 1972); Jean-Bedel Bokassa in the Central African Republic (1966 to 1979); Idi Amin in Uganda (1971 to 1979); Francisco Nguema in Equatorial Guinea (1968 to 1979); Mengistu Haile Mariam in Ethiopia (1977 to 1991).

14. In Search of Ujamaa (Tanzania)

Julius Nyerere in Tanzania. He was a committed socialist though without a socialist party or advisers. In the mid-1960s he nationalised everything in Tanzania and proclaimed this native form of socialism ujaama, which is KiSwahili for ‘familyhood’ (p.253). In 1974 this was turned into the forced movement of some 11 million peasant farmers into collective farms, which had the same kind of catastrophic effect as in the Stalin-era Ukraine or Mao’s China i.e. the collapse of agricultural productivity and widespread hunger. Nyerere had to go begging to the World Bank and IMF and food agencies for emergency food supplies. As its economy went steadily downhill, Nyerere’s one-party state did improve literacy, schools, drinking water etc, but almost entirely funded by aid from the West.

15. The Passing of the Old Guard

Ghana

Nkrumah’s sad exile in a slowly deteriorating villa in Guinea planning a triumphant return to Ghana which never took place.

Egypt

Nasser’s great dreams of leading an Arab renaissance came to nothing, attempts to unify with Syria were a fiasco, his intervention in Yemen backfired, leading up to the humiliation of the 1967 Arab-Israeli War in which the Israelis seized the Sinai with its oil wells from Egypt. Yet he remained popular and Egypt was plunged into mourning when he died in 1970 of a heart attack, aged just 52.

Kenya

Jomo Kenyatta was the opposite of Nyerere, a keen advocate of capitalism, and provided the stable political and legal framework within which private enterprise could flourish. Much of the land belonging to the white settlers, the issue behind the Mau Mau movement, was sold to Black Kenyans. During the 1970s he faced political challenges and hardened his one-party rule. His fiercest critic was found murdered etc. Late in life Kenyatta slowly lost interest in ruling, preferring to concoct complex riddles. He died peacefully in 1978.

Senegal

President Léopold Senghor remained strongly Francophile, committed to maintaining links with France, accepting French capital in business and retaining French troops to safeguard his regime. In France he was a noted poet. In 1976 he bucked the one-party trend of his neighbours by allowing the establishment of two new political parties. In 1980 he handed over power to his protégé, becoming the first African ruler to relinquish power voluntarily.

Guinea

The first president of Guinea, Ahmed Sékou Touré, created a paranoid atmosphere of permanent plots which he claimed to uncover and used to arrest, torture and publicly execute opponents, real or imagined. A fifth of the population fled abroad. Touré nationalised industries, persecuted independent businesses, created parastatal agencies, so that the economy tanked and was, eventually, only surviving on western aid. After 20 years of enforced socialism, he began to relent and allow some elements of private enterprise.

16. The Slippery Slope

An overview of the calamitous economic issues which hit Africa in the 1970s and 80s, being:

  • famine and drought
  • the two oil shocks of the 1970s
  • the collapse of commodity prices on which most African states depended for foreign revenue
  • the disastrous loss of agricultural land, soil degradation and desertification

On top of all this, an explosive growth in population.

17. The Great Plunderer (Zaire)

This refers to Joseph-Désiré Mobutu, who ruled Congo from the date of his second military coup in 1965 to his overthrow by the forces invading from Rwanda in 1997. During those 32 long years he changed the country’s name to Zaire, Africanised all placenames (Leopoldville > Kinshasa, Elizabethville > Lubumbashi) and even his own name, changing it to Mobutu Sese Seko Kuku Ngbendu Wa Za Banga.

Mobutu nationalised agriculture, seized all businesses from foreign owners, causing a collapse in the country’s economy, and looted it on a grand scale, siphoning vast amounts into private bank accounts. Probably the greatest African kleptocrat, he was said to have stolen up to $15 billion. The Americans supported him on the simple Cold War basis that he was fiercely anti-communist and so maintained the centre of Africa against any Soviet influence. Mobutu was an honoured guest of US presidents from John F Kennedy to George Bush. Meredith doesn’t need to comment.

18. White Dominoes (Mozambique, Angola)

Portugal was the last European country to decolonise. Independence movements in its two main African colonies, Angola and Mozambique, commenced military activities in 1961, leading to what became known as the Portuguese Colonial War (1961 to 1974).

In 1968 Portugal’s long-serving dictator, António de Oliveira Salazar, was replaced by another authoritarian ruler, Marcello Caetano. He inherited military operations in Portugal’s main two African colonies, Angola and Mozambique. However, junior army officers had become unhappy with the way the army seemed like it was committed forever to these ruinous, unwinnable wars and so, on 25 April 1974, carried out the Carnation Revolution, overthrowing Caetano. Portugal’s new military rulers set out to divest themselves of her colonies immediately. Small Guinea-Bissau was easily granted independence in 1973.

Mozambique

In Mozambique the main liberation force had been the Front for the Liberation of Mozambique (FRELIMO) led by the zealous Marxist, Samora Machel. Terrified by the fire-breathing rhetoric of Marxist Machal, in the year between the declaration of independence in 1974 and its legal implementation on 25 June 1975, most of the 250,000 Portuguese in Mozambique fled the country, including all the civil servants, administrators, managers of the infrastructure and all businesses.

Frelimo passed a law ordering the remaining Portuguese to leave the country in 24 hours with only 20 kilograms (44 pounds) of luggage. Unable to salvage any of their assets, most of them returned to Portugal penniless, leaving a country empty of experienced administrators, engineers and so on.

Frelimo commenced an aggressive implementation of Marxism-Leninism which proved a disaster: central planning was as badly managed here as in most other African countries, leading to economic collapse, inflation, shortages of everything but especially food. Industrial output and agriculture collapsed leading to widespread famine. Frelimo eventually generated so much opposition that the anti-communist forces united to form the Mozambican National Resistance (RENAMO) rebel militias.

Renamo found backing from South Africa and the US. Civil war between Frelimo and Renamo was to consume 15 ruinous years from 1977 to 1992. An estimated one million Mozambicans perished during the civil war, with somewhere between 300,000 and 600,000 dying of famine. 1.7 million Mozambicans took refuge in neighbouring states, and several million more were internally displaced.

Angola

Something similar happened in Angola. As the deadline for independence approached, three rebel or independence groups/parties/armies vied for power, being the FNLA, MPLA and UNITA. As violence broke out most of the white Portuguese fled and the country collapsed into a civil war between what emerged as the two main forces, the communist People’s Movement for the Liberation of Angola (MPLA) and the anti-communist National Union for the Total Independence of Angola (UNITA). The civil war lasted from 1975, with interludes, until 2002. See:

Part 3

19. Red Tears (Ethiopia)

How in 1974 the Provisional Military Administrative Committee (PMAC) of army officers, also known as the Derg, overthrew the regime of emperor Haile Selassie. In 1977 Colonel Mengistu Haile Mariam seized full control and initiated a wave of repression which became known as the Red Terror. During this two-year campaign as many as 50,000 Ethiopians were arrested, tortured and executed. The Derg dumped the corpses in the street and gained notoriety by demanding that families of the executed pay for the bullets. Marxist-Leninist housekeeping.

Meredith explains how Mengistu’s Marxist-Leninist policies, along with his brutal campaigns against Eritrean and Tigrayan separatists in the north, helped bring about the great Ethiopia famine of 1984 which led to Live Aid. At the time more than half of Ethiopia’s annual budget was devoted to maintaining an army of 300,000 (armed and supplied by Soviet Russia) in order to carry out operations against the Tigrayan People’s Liberation Front (p.334).

Mengistu was a doctrinaire Marxist who believed in collectivising agriculture and enforcing super low prices in order to provide subsidised food for his key constituencies in the cities. The detailed chronicle of his deliberate ignoring of the famine, attempts to deny it, to prevent journalists or aid agencies entering the famine-stricken areas, and then the politically motivated strategy of moving hundreds of thousands of starving people against their will from the north (close to where Eritrean separatists operated) to the more secure south where they had no homes or livelihoods, makes for terrible reading. What a complete bastard.

The title of this chapter comes from a memoir of his time in Mengistu’s government written by a defector from the Derg, Dawit Wolde Giorgis, ‘Red Tears: War, Famine and Revolution in Ethiopia’. In the words of reviewer Mohammed Hassen, this exposes ‘the callous brutality of the Ethiopian government towards its own people’, and the leaders of the Derg as ‘uninformed, anti-people, anti-democratic criminal thugs’ (Online review).

20. Fault Lines (Chad, Sudan)

Chad

Across the north of Africa is a line between the Arab Muslim north and the start of the Black African and often Christian south. Meredith gives a long, detailed and deeply depressing account of the north-south conflict in Chad, in which both sides massacred each other and Colonel Gaddafi, in power in Libya from 1969 onwards, took advantage by trying to seize northern Chad and, at his most ambitious, declared the unification of Chad with Libya – under his supreme control, of course.

Sudan

To the East, the equally long-running and demoralising war between Muslim north and Christian south Sudan. A key aspect of the backstory to both conflicts is that the northern Muslims had, for centuries, captured southern blacks as slaves as part of the widespread Arab slave trade. In fact Meredith records Arab militias capturing and enslaving Black southerners in the 1980s, all accompanied by vitriolic racism about the Blacks being sub-humans etc. About the Atlantic slave trade I hear on a daily basis and in virtually every art exhibition I go to; about the Arab slave trade, never.

21. The Scourge of AIDS

The interesting point is the number of African governments which refused to acknowledge AIDS or dismissed it as a racist Western conspiracy, with the result that many African countries didn’t commence AIDS-awareness campaigns till the 1990s by which time the disease had taken hold in their populations. Two notable exceptions were Senegal under Abdou Diouf, and Uganda under the leadership of Yoweri Museveni. Respect.

22. The Lost Decade

A detailed look at the economic collapse of almost all African countries by the 1980s so that they became increasingly dependent on foreign aid, on loans which needed to be continually rescheduled, and the accompanying demands from the IMF and World Bank for ‘structural reforms’. Through mismanagement, drought, civil war, collapse of commodity prices, most African countries became dependent on aid from the West.

What comes over, and is expressed in terms by African commentators themselves, is what condemned Africa to becoming the most backward and poverty-stricken of the world’s continents was the appalling quality of African leaders – tyrants, dictators but, above all, thieves, on an epic, mind-boggling scale.

23. The Struggle for Democracy

The long hold on power of Africa’s strong men, the generation who took power at independence and often clung on to it for 25 years or more, for example:

  • Gnassingbé Eyadéma of Togo (president for 38 years)
  • Omar Bongo in Gabon (41 years)
  • Félix Houphouët-Boigny of Côte d’Ivoire (president for 33 years)
  • Mobutu in Zaire (32 years)
  • Hastings Banda in Malawi (30 years)
  • Kenneth Kaunda in Zambia (27 years)
  • Moussa Traore in Mali (22 years)

Of the 50 African states in 1990, almost all were one-party states or military dictatorships.

The fall of the Berlin wall and collapse of the Soviet Union in 1991 ushered in a new era. One party regimes and Marxist regimes appeared old-fashioned overnight. But the strong men clung on in the new landscape, for example Mobutu who struggled on for another 7 years.

24. A Time of Triumph (South Africa)

A long and harrowing description of ‘grand’ apartheid in all its totalitarian, racist horror. Meredith gives an interesting explanation of the changes in international affairs and geopolitics during the late 1980s which led the apartheid leadership to consider sweeping reform. He ends with a moving account of negotiations with Nelson Mandela, climaxing with his release and then the first free, multi-racial elections in South Africa’s history.

Apart from the long, complex history of violence, guerrilla warfare, civil war between the ANC and Inkatha, South Africa’s interference in all the nations bordering it and so on – on a human level I learned that a) Mandela and the last apartheid leader, F.W. de Klerk, really didn’t get on, and that b) when his marriage to wife Winnie Mandela ended, she very publicly took a much younger lover and embarrassed him in public (‘Mandela’s late years of freedom were constantly blighted by her wayward example’), leaving him an often lonely figure (p.438).

Part 4

25. In The Name of the Prophet (Egypt, Algeria, Sudan)

Sayyid Qutb

The imperialists had oppressed them. Secular nationalism was a failure. The first generation of post-independence rulers turned out to be corrupt tyrants. Socialism and Marxism turned out to be dead ends. Following the Iranian revolution of 1979 there began a revival of political Islam which seemed to many ordinary people a last resort, given that all western political systems and theories had failed. Political Islam encouraged the idea that western concepts like democracy or capitalism were infidel and inappropriate to Muslim lands, and that only return to the purity of the Prophet’s laws and rules would restore society.

The principal architect of jihad ideology [was] Sayyid Qutb…whose writings influenced generations of radical Islamists. (p.444)

Qutb, an Egyptian who supported the Muslim Brotherhood, was imprisoned by Colonel Nasser, then executed in 1965 – but not before he’d developed, written and distributed a starkly simplistic view of Islam. According to Qutb the entire Muslim world can be divided into the Party of God and the Party of Satan with no middle ground. Repressive regimes cannot be changed from within and so must be overthrown by jihad i.e. armed struggle.

Any land that hampered the practice of Islam or failed to apply sharia law was ipso facto part of Dar el-Harb – the Abode of War. ‘It should be combated even if one’s own kith and kin, national group, capital and commerce are to be found there.’ (p.444)

This is really, really important. Qutb’s writings are crucial to understanding the modern age. His simplistic binary worldview, and his insistence that democracy, nationalism, human rights and all those other ideas, are infidel western abominations – all this explains the wars which have steadily engulfed the Arab/Muslim world in the last 30 years.

Qutb’s writings explain why generations of jihadis have been convinced that the only honourable and devout course of action is to fight your enemies to extermination. His writings have hugely contributed to instability right across the Arab world and are the ideological background to jihadis fighting in Afghanistan, Iraq, Syria, Yemen, Libya and Sudan. Meredith mentions a couple of other Muslim thinkers:

  • cleric Omar Abdel Rahman who taught that jihad was the only way to vanquish the enemies of Islam (p.445)
  • Muhammed al-Farag, who taught that jihad is the sixth pillar of Islam and that armed struggle is imperative for all true Muslims in order to cure a decadent society: ‘the first battlefield for jihad is the extermination of these infidel leaders and to replace them with a complete Islamic Order’ (p.446)

Only jihad can bring about the perfect Islamic society. Jihad must be waged until the perfect Islamic society is achieved. But there are many forces resisting this, the obvious outside forces of America and the West, but also the populations of many of these countries. So the kind of perfect Islamic state the jihadis dream of will probably never be achieved. Therefore the Muslim world, certainly in the Middle East and North Africa, is condemned to permanent war or insurgency for the foreseeable future.

Algeria

The Front de libération nationale (FLN) had been the main force behind the long bloody war for the independence of Algeria from France. After independence was finally granted in 1962, the FLN became the party of government, instituting socialist policies and a one-party regime. Meredith lists the reasons why the FLN slowly became unpopular. Two stick out. One was that they downplayed agriculture in a bid to industrialise, keeping food prices artificially low in order to placate their constituencies in the towns and cities. The result was that life as a farmer got harder and harder, with many rural youths deciding to quit the poverty of the countryside and try their luck in the city. This is interesting because it’s an abiding theme of so many of these countries. If I could travel back in time to the early 60s and was an adviser to newly independent African nations, I’d say: ‘Cherish your farmers’. In Algeria, as everywhere else, neglecting and even undermining agriculture led to the country becoming ever more reliant on food imports.

The second is the explosion in population. I am a Darwinian materialist, a believer in the blunt facts of the environment and biology a long way before culture and politics. Thus the simple relevant fact is that the population of Algeria exploded from 10 million in 1962 to 26 million in 1992. No rate of economic growth, anywhere, could keep up with this explosion in mouths to feed and, more to the point, young men to employ.

Groups of young men hanging round on street corners become a prey to warlords and the siren call of violent revolution. This is true all round the developing world. The West supplied the medicines to developing countries which hugely improved infant mortality and recovery from illness, but without doing anything to transform a) cultural attitudes to women and childbirth or b) expand the economies. Result: lots of aimless young men looking for a cause.

Enter radical Islam which promises a better world, which gives young men a purpose, a goal, a sense of identity, and money and respect. What’s not to like, what’s not to sign up and commit your life to?

As radical Islamic parties began to appear in Algeria the military command which called the shots in the FLN tried to cancel them. After complicated manoeuvres the FLN agreed to hold free elections and Islamic parties stood in them. But when the Islamists looked like winning, the FLN abruptly cancelled the results and took back military control. The rest of the story could have been written by an AI bot. The Islamists hit back with a terror campaign, the army cracked down, arbitrarily arresting thousands, imprisonment without trial, torture etc, the Islamists ramped up their campaign, and so on.

Again, with utter inevitability, the insurgency spawned an extremist wing, the Groupe Islamique Armé (GIA). With utter predictability they started off saying they’d stick to military targets but soon found these too well protected and their attacks having less and less affect so they widened their targets. Journalists were singled out, but more and more members of the general public were also murdered. Abdelkader Hattab wrote a pamphlet titled: ‘Throat-slitting and murder until the power is God’s’ (p.457).

As in Iraq, in order to build the perfect Islamic state, it turned out to be necessary to kill lots of Muslims, first hundreds, then thousands, then tens of thousands, and eventually hundreds of thousands.

What became known as the Algerian Civil War lasted from 1991 to 2002 and led to around 150,000 deaths. Of course the economy was wrecked. Of course a lot of the best and brightest middle classes simply fled abroad.

Egypt

I visited Egypt in 1981 and then in 1995, just before Islamist terror groups began attacking tourists. Groups like Jamaat al-Jihad and Gamma Islamiyya increasingly targeted government officials, intellectuals, journalists and foreign tourists. They attacked and murdered Coptic Christians, burned Christian shops and churches, and bookshops and theatres and video stores. Farag Foda, one of Egypt’s best known writers, was shot dead. The Nobel laureate Naguib Mahfouz was knifed. ‘Throat-slitting and murder until the power is God’s’, in practice.

Then they started attacking tourists: in 1996 17 Greek pilgrims were murdered outside their hotel. In 1997 58 foreign tourists were murdered in the Valley of the Kings. Meredith tells us that a Japanese man was eviscerated and inside his stomach cavity was stuffed a note reading: ‘No to tourists in Egypt’ (p.461). Fine by me. I’m never going back to a Muslim country.

Egypt’s president, Hosni Mubarak, had come to power after the assassination of his predecessor Anwar Sadat by army Islamists in 1981. Now Mubarak set about crushing the Islamic groups ruthlessly, telling his own people and the international community that he wouldn’t let Egypt become the next Algeria. This chapter takes the story up to 2000, when Mubarak was arresting members of the Muslim Brotherhood and other Islamic organisations to prevent them standing in that year’s elections.

26. Black Hawk Down (Somalia)

The first fact about Somalia is that, at independence, about 40% of the people who thought of themselves as Somalis lived outside the borders of the country, in Ethiopia or Kenya. So from the day of independence the government neglected agriculture and the economy and focused on military action to try and extend its borders to include the full population.

Second fact is the Somalis have a strong and complex clan system, clans within clans, which extends in a hierarchy from the five main super-clans down through ever-diminishing sub-clans. So:

  1. Never-ending warfare helped impoverish the country, especially after the Soviet Union dropped its support for Somalia in favour of Mengistu’s Marxist revolution in neighbouring Ethiopia.
  2. As central government collapsed under the pressure of military defeats, poverty, famine and so on, the country disintegrated into a warzone of permanently fighting, feuding clans, at multiple levels, with warlords ruling their territories through terror.

27. The Graves Are Not Yet Full (Rwanda)

The Rwandan genocide. I’ve summarised the dreadful events elsewhere. I’ll just pick up on two related themes, mentioned re. Algeria. 1) the population of Rwanda ballooned from 2 million in 1940 to 7 million in 1990, which led to 2) lots of unemployed youths hanging around, waiting for a cause and meaning (and cash):

Youths with no prospect of work were easily recruited [into the interahamwe) with promises of land, jobs and other rewards… (p.496)

The French government of François Mitterrand comes over as the genocide-supporting scumbags indicated by all the other accounts. For example, it was the French government which refused the Belgian request to increase the number of the latter’s peacekeepers, so that Belgians ended up being forced to watch Tutsis being hacked to death in front of them but were unable to intervene. Because of France (p.510).

Mitterrand was determined to prevent a Rwandan Patriotic Front (RPF) victory in Rwanda even if it meant continuing to collaborate with genocidal killers. (p.519)

France made five arms shipments to the Hutu government while it was carrying out the genocide. Bastard Mitterrand sent a French force into Rwanda to protect the Hutu Power génocidaires (the equivalent of protecting the SS). Meredith tells of French soldiers slowly realising that the Hutus they had been sent to protect were in fact genocidal killers and realising that their government (Mitterrand) had lied to them. The piles and piles of Tutsi corpses were a clue. But the French government refused to allow their troops on the ground to track down and bring to justice the génocidaires hiding among the mass Hutu refugees who fled into Congo, once the Tutsi-led RPF reactivated the civil war and invaded in order to end the killing.

To the end, the French protected the organisers of the genocide. (p.522)

We’re never meant to forget the Holocaust. Well, in the same spirit, surely we should never forgive the arms and aid and support and protection the French government extended to the perpetrators of the second most horrific genocide of the twentieth century.

Mind you, Meredith goes on to paint the UN as far worse, biased towards Hutu president, Juvénal Habyarimana, ignoring reports from the Canadian commander of the UN force on the ground, UNAMIR, General Roméo Dallaire. And then the Belgian government, which withdrew their contingent altogether, abandoning thousands of Tutsis who had taken shelter in their compounds and who were hacked to pieces within hours of their abandonment (p.512). And the Americans behaved disgracefully, Bill Clinton doing everything he could to avoid using the G word (genocide) and refusing to commit troops. Everyone in a position of power in the West let the genocide happen.

More Tutsis were killed in churches than any other type of building, although a lot were killed in maternity wards where a lot had their bellies ripped open and their babies hacked to pieces before they themselves were hacked to death.

Some people still believe in the essential goodness of the human race. Such innocence is touching, charming, but dangerous.

28. Where Vultures Fly (the two Congo wars)

Who supported Mobutu after he had reduced Zaire to starving ruins? France. Why? Because he spoke French. Because he represented la francophonie. Because he represented a bulwark against the rise of the beastly English-speaking leaders such as Museveni of Uganda. France supported mass murderers and world-beating kleptocrats because their crimes were less important than the preservation of ‘French culture’ (p.525). Look at their wise and good achievements in the realm of international affairs: Vietnam. Algeria. Models of wisdom and statecraft. And Vichy, when millions of French people wholeheartedly co-operated with German Nazis whose values they enthusiastically endorsed.

This is not an exaggeration. When considering international affairs, it’s important to bear in mind what despicable depths the French establishment’s paranoid fear of the English-speaking world drives them. James Barr describes the despicable behaviour of the French in Lebanon and Syria during the Second World War:

This chapter describes how the million and a half Hutu refugees from Rwanda were crammed into refugee camps, mostly in Congo, where the Hutu Power génocidaires rebuilt their power, controlled the distribution of aid, murdered dissenting voices, kept the refugees in line with terror, while they sold some of the aid the West gave them in order to buy arms to re-invade Rwanda and resume attacking Tutsi communities.

Meredith explains how the leader of the RPF, Paul Kagame, conspired with President of Uganda Mouseveni to invade eastern Zaire, to crush the Hutu Power leaders, to force the Hutu refugees to return to their country. How they found a useful idiot from within Zaire to front the army they were creating, namely fat, stupid guerrilla turned nightclub-owner Laurent-Désiré Kabila.

The combined RPF and Ugandan army force which Kabila fronted not only liberated the Hutu refugee camps, but marched on Congo’s capital, Kinshasa, triggering the panic-stricken flight of the sick old dictator, Mobutu in 1997. In short order and to his own surprise, Kabila found himself in power and set about surrounding himself with cronies in the traditional style. Unwisely, he tried to bolster his support among the Congolese by turning on his Ugandan and Rwandan-Tutsi backers, whose forces were much resented in Kinshasa and beyond.

This policy badly backfired because when Kagame and Museveni found their puppet acting up against them, in 1998 they instituted a second invasion from the east, this time not marching but flying their forces direct to Kinshasa to overthrow Kabile. At this point, however, various outside countries began to get involved, several big ones supporting Kabile who had signed lucrative deals with them allowing them to plunder Congo’s natural resources.

This was the complex situation which led to what became known as the Great War of Africa. Slowly the country splintered into regions held by rival warlords or outside armies. A peace treaty was signed in 2002 which required armies from Rwanda, Burundi, Uganda, Angola and Zimbabwe to withdraw. In four years of chaotic conflict (1998 to 2002) some 3 million Africans had died, mostly unarmed Congolese civilians. But even after the peace treaty, fighting continued in east Congo, and continues at a low level to this day.

29. Blood Diamonds (Liberia, Sierra Leone)

Liberia

Meredith recaps the extraordinary early history of Liberia, a colony on the west coast of Africa funded in 1822 by guilt-stricken liberal Americans who wanted to return some of their slaves to the motherland. Instead, the few thousand returned Blacks ended up creating their own version of slavery, subjugating the poor locals, exploiting their labour, building homes and dressing in the elaborate nineteenth century style of their former American oppressors. Now the immigrant Blacks oppressed the locals. The Americo-Liberians amounted to no more than 1% of the population but lorded it over the indigenes.

In a neat historical irony, in 1931 an international commission found members of the entirely Black Liberian government guilty of involvement in organised slavery (p.546).

But it the story stops being in any way funny when in April 1980 Master Sergeant Samuel Doe led a coup which overturned a century of Americo-Liberian rule. Semi-literate, Doe came from a minority tribe, the Krahn, from the deep jungle. He and colleagues broke into the mansion of President William Tolbert to complain about unpaid wages. Finding him asleep in bed they shot him multiple times before disembowelling him and dumping his body in the garden. This was the coup where Tolbert’s cabinet ministers were taken down to the beach, tied to posts and shot by a squad of drunken soldiers. I remember seeing the video on the news. This set the tone of ten years of savage, primitive, ignorant, incompetent rule.

Like all stupid people, Doe thought the world revolved around him and thus saw conspiracies everywhere. His comms people publicised the idea that he had survived 38 or more assassination attempts because of his magical powers, because bullets stopped in mid-air, knives refused to cut him, and so on – fairy tales designed to appeal to the largely illiterate population.

In August 1984 Doe arrested a popular university lecturer and 15 colleagues claiming they were planning a coup. When students protested, Doe sent a troop of soldiers who opened fire indiscriminately, stripped students naked, demanded money and/or raped them (p.551). This all made me think of all Kwame Nkrumah’s speeches from the 1950s and 60s about ‘Africa for Africans’, ‘African values’, how a liberated Africa would become a beacon of progress and civilisation…

Throughout all the mayhem the US government stood by Doe, declaring his obviously rigged elections valid, overlooking his brutal massacres, upping annual aid to $80 million, and inviting him to the White House for red carpet treatment. Why? Because he was staunchly anti-Soviet. That’s all that mattered (p.555).

In November 1985 General Thomas Quiwonkpa, who had led the 1980 coup along with Doe, tried to seize power and there was premature rejoicing – until Doe managed to regain control, hunt down Quiwonkpa and have him kicked and hacked to death, followed by even harsher crackdowns on the population, which including victimisation of the entire Gio tribe which Quiwonkpa came from.

In 1989 another former colleague, Charles Taylor, led a militia into Liberia from neighbouring Ivory Coast, thus commencing a guerrilla war against Doe. Doe sent out death squads to devastate villages in the regions Taylor had seized. Taylor armed children (‘Small Boy Units’) and told them to kill everyone. The country descended into barbarity.

Bolstered by cane spirit, marijuana and cheap amphetamines, youths and boy soldiers evolved into psychopathic killers, adorning themselves with women’s wigs, dresses, fright masks and enemy bones and smearing their faces with white clay and make-up in the belief that this gave them supernatural perception…’It’s a children’s war,’ said a senior United Nations observer. ‘Kids get promoted in rank for committing an atrocity. They can cut off someone’s head without thinking. The troops move into a village. They take everything and kill and rape. They stay a couple of weeks and then move on.’ (p.558)

It’s interesting to read that many of the stoned fighters thought that wearing wigs or dresses i.e. adopting two identities, would confuse enemy bullets. Traditional African values. Reminds me of the website I found last time I was reading about this subject, a collection of photos of the surreal garb of drug-addled psychopathic militia men.

In 1989 a colleague of Taylor’s named Prince Johnson split off from Taylor’s army to set up the Independent National Patriotic Front of Liberia, with the result that Liberia became caught in a three-way civil war. Or just – war. Marauding soldiers from each side burned, looted, raped and massacred at will. Half the population fled the country. Nigeria sent a peacekeeping force which didn’t establish any kind of peace but secured a few buildings in the capital Monrovia. When Doe drove down to the port to greet them, he was captured by Prince Johnson’s men.

Johnson ordered a video to be made of his men torturing a badly battered Doe, including the moments when they sliced his ears off. The video became a bestseller across West Africa. You can watch it on YouTube and reflect on the speeches of Kwame Nkrumah explaining how African values would civilise the world.

Inevitably, the African peacekeeping force turned out to be every bit as corrupt and lawless as the militias they were sent to police, giving warlords weapons in exchange for looted goods, leading to the joke that ECOMOG stood for ‘Every Car Or Moving Object Gone’.

Taylor established control everywhere outside the capital, and came to commercial arrangements with western companies to allow trade to continue. In two years he’s estimated to have raked off £200 million from these gangster deals.

Sierra Leone

The chaos from Liberia then spilled over into neighbouring Sierra Leone. This country was already a basket case due to the 17-year, one-party rule of President Siaka Steven whose regime made a fortune trading diamonds via Lebanese dealers, while the economy languished, government employees went unpaid, and gangs of youths filled the streets looking for a cause. The usual.

The force Taylor sent into Sierra Leone in March 1991 called itself the Revolutionary United Front (RUF) and was led by the psychopath, Foday Sankoh. This was the group Anthony Loyd writes about terrifyingly in Another Bloody Love Letter. Child soldiers became a key feature of Sierra Leone’s civil war. They were given drugs, indoctrinated and taught to kill. Some had to kill their own parents as an initiation test. Some hated it, wanted to leave but were afraid of themselves being killed. But others loved it. As researchers Krijn Peters and Paul Richards concluded:

‘The pay may be derisory but weapon training pays quicker dividends than school ever did; soon the AK47 brings food, money, a warm bath and instant adult respect. The combat groups substitutes for lost family and friends.’ (quoted page 563)

Like the white overseers in King Leopold’s Congo, the RUF took to hacking off the hands and limbs of civilians, at random, purely for the terror it created. Hundreds of thousands of civilians fled their homes. A coup in the capital brought Valentine Strasser to power. He paid a firm of mercenaries, Executive Outcomes, to clear the capital Freetown in exchange for rights to the country’s diamond mines. Executive Outcomes fighters cleared Freetown in one week, testament to the shoddy, amateurish character of the African fighters on all sides.

More splinter groups, more coups, more fighting, 14 attempts at a ceasefire, tens of thousands more hand choppings and mutilations. A final ceasefire brought UN intervention. But when the UN went to seize the diamond mines, in 2000, the RUF captured 500 of its peacekeepers. It was now that Britain sent in a full battle force to release the UN troops, seize government buildings and train the SL army. Sankoh was arrested and the RUF splintered into ineffectual groups. In the wake of the British intervention, the UN deployed 18,000 troops to bring about a comprehensive peace.

Eleven years of war had left 50,000 dead, 20,000 mutilated, three quarters of the population displaced, and Sierra Leone at the bottom of the league of human development. Back in Liberia, Charles Taylor amassed a huge fortune from illegal diamond trading. His overthrow in 2003 was as violent and brutal as his coming to power, with two more factions, groups or militias murdering and raping their way to the capital. Eventually Taylor was forced out but flew peacefully to Nigeria to take up life in a comfortable retirement villa. There is no justice on earth, nothing like justice.

30. No Condition Is Permanent (Nigeria)

Meredith describes the brutal rule of General Sani Abacha, military ruler from 1993 to 1998. His crackdown on all opposition. The rise of organisations representing the Ogoni people of the oil-rich Niger Delta who had seen none of the tens of billions of oil money generated around them, only the pollution and destruction of their environment. The work of the popular writer Ken Saro-Wiwa, who was eventually arrested, accused of organising an anti-government conspiracy etc and, despite international protests, executed in November 1995.

Abachi’s death in 1998 is the opportunity for a review of how far the country had fallen. Despite annual oil revenue of $280 billion, income per head was less than a third of what it had been in 1980, at $310; half the population lived on less than 30 cents a day and had no access to clean drinking water. Half of under fives were stunted due to malnutrition. Nigeria was regularly judged to be the most corrupt country in the world.

What this litany of disasters begins to impress on even the most sympathetic reader is that Africans do not seem able of running their own countries. Catastrophic wars, epic corruption, barbaric violence resulting in crushing poverty, if the generation of independence campaigners had seen the future would they have been in such a tearing hurry to gain independence from their colonial masters?

Abachi’s death didn’t bring peace and light: the end of the military regime led to an explosion of political parties across the country, which themselves exacerbated ethnic rivalries, and also the rise of Islamic militancy, which led to clashes between Muslims and Christians. Despite free elections in 1999 and again in 2003, observers wondered whether Nigeria, a country of 120 million made up of 250 ethnic groups, was ungovernable. [That was in 2000. Nigeria’s population in 2023 has almost doubled, to 215 million.]

31. The Honour of Living (Sudan)

General Omar al-Bashir seized power in Sudan in 1989 and declared his commitment to creating an Islamic state. This was followed by the arrest of all opposition figures, torture including burning, beating and rape, the usual behaviour of leaders promising to build a better society – first you have to lock up a lot of people. 1991 saw the introduction of a new Islamic penal code: women were hounded out of public life, segregation of men and women was enforced in all public places, there was a ban on music, cinema and the compulsory Arabisation of all culture.

The ideologue of all this was Hassan al-Turabi, founder of the National Islamic Front and founder of the Muslim Brotherhood. After the first Gulf War, in 1991. Turabi set up the Popular Arab and Islamic Conference to bring together thinkers and leaders to fight back against America’s ‘colonisation’ of the Arab World. Sudan became a refuge for anti-western terrorist groups. This is very important. It marks the start of a new type of aggressive new anti-western ideology, of the war on America.

Meredith gives a good short description of the career of Osama bin Laden. In 1996 the blind cleric sheikh Omar Abdel Rahman organised the bombing of the World Trade Centre. Extremists trained in Sudan undertook assassinations and attacks across the Arab world. In 1998 activists trained by al Qaeda attacked hotels in Kenya and Tanzania, killing 263 people. Now we enter ‘the modern world’, the era we still live in in 2023, the era of unceasing conflict and Islamic insurgency across the entire Arab world.

Their Islamic ideology justified the Bashir regime in intensifying the war against southern, Black, Christian rebels. Villages were bombed, populations massacred and sold into slavery, with the blessing of Islamic scholars. The southern forces split into two parties who had a civil war between themselves in which tens of thousands of civilians died, which triggered a famine in which hundreds of thousands perished (p.594). Humans, eh? Impressive species.

Alongside massacres in the south went the discovery and exploitation of oil. The Khartoum government reaped a huge bonanza and spent it on…arms. By 2002 the civil war had left an estimated 2 million dead. But after 9/11 the Americans became active. Sudan was identified as a training base for Islamic terrorists and Bashir had to back down and promise to comply.

32. Black Gold (Angola)

The crushingly depressing history of Angola in the 1980s and 1980s, a country destroyed by an endless civil war between the supposedly ‘Marxist’ MPLA government based in Luanda, and the madly self-centred, narcissistic, overweening arrogance of Jonas Savimbi, leader of UNITA.

Land mines, aerial bombing, indiscriminate massacre, burning, looting, rape of women and children. Maybe 5 million died, many more had legs blown off by the millions of landmines, the country was laid waste – all while Eduardo dos Santos and the elite of the MPLA lived like kings by salting away the revenue derived from the huge oil deposits found just offshore. Getting on for half the annual oil revenue, billions of dollars, was stolen by dos Santos and his clique, while the children starved to death in the streets. As with Congo, or Nigeria, why give aid to oil- and resource-rich countries which have enough natural income to invest in infrastructure, roads, markets, clean water, schools, but which they either steal or spend on arms and weapons?

33. A Degree In Violence (Zimbabwe)

The slow descent into paranoid dictatorship of Robert Mugabe. I hadn’t realised that he was initially conciliatory towards the white minority, and even his arch enemy Ian Smith, for the first two or three years of his rule because his first priority was eliminating all his black rivals, starting with Joshua Nkomo and his Zimbabwe African People’s Union (ZAPU). It was called the Gukurahundi campaign (Shona for ‘the early rain which washes away the chaff before the spring rains’). During this campaign Mugabe’s notorious Fifth Brigade, trained by North Koreans, rampaged through ZAPU’s heartland, Matabeleland, and massacred thousands of civilians accused of being ‘dissidents’. Some estimates say as many as 80,000 were killed during the 5-year campaign.

Slowly Zimbabwe became like all the other African one-party states, a machine for redirecting wealth into the pockets of a small elite around the figurehead leader. As the economy collapsed and inflation and unemployment rose, so did Mugabe’s deployment of racist, anti-white rhetoric, focused on the policy of farm reclamation, seizing back land from the white farmers who owned a disproportionate amount of it. As Meredith explains, it’s all Mugabe had left, rabble-rousing racism to distract attention from the complete failure of his leadership.

Mugabe’s successive rounds of farm seizures spelled the end of commercial farming as a major industry in Zimbabwe. Many of the confiscated farms didn’t go to the deserving poor but to friends and family and tribal supporters of Mugabe, who then stripped and sold off their assets or left them to rot. Hundreds of thousands of Blacks who worked on the confiscated farms were thrown out of work. Land lay fallow. Food production collapsed. Zimbabwe, once the bread basket of southern Africa, became dependent on food aid.

By 2003 the economy had collapsed and an estimated quarter of the population had fled the country. Three-quarters of the remainder lived on less than a dollar a day. Meredith covers the coming together of opposition movements in the Movement for Democratic Change and the rise of its leader, Morgan Tsvangirai, the elections he contested in 2002 and 2008, elections Mugabe comprehensively managed with intimidation, violence and hectoring messages through state media.

Opposition activists were hunted down, beaten, tortured and in some cases murdered. (p.646)

Meredith’s narrative takes the reader up to 2008 when Mugabe, despite spending 28 years utterly devastating his country, was still in power. It was very depressing to switch to Wikipedia and see that Mugabe continued to rule the country he had ruined for another nine years, till he was overthrown in 2017.

34. Somewhere Over The Rainbow (South Africa)

The books and movies all focus on Nelson Mandela‘s long march to freedom. Not so many examine the calamitous challenges he faced on taking power in 1994: trying to reverse the best part of a century of totalitarian racism which had entrenched grotesque inequality between the affluent whites and the crushingly poor Black population; trying to integrate millions of badly educated young Africans into the economy, trying to introduce Blacks into every level of a 100% white political and civil administration and into SA’s commercial life. The army, the police, the education system, everything needed reforming.

Plus the expectations of activists at all levels who had spent a lifetime working for the ‘revolution’ which would create a land of plenty. There was an epidemic of strikes and protests or just straightforward crime. To all this Mandela had to react much like Mrs Thatcher, explaining that the state just didn’t have the resources to make everyone rich. There would have to be belt-tightening. It would take time.

Meredith has an extended passage describing the work of the Truth and Reconciliation Commission, how it struggled to find its way, was a compromise in nature and intent, but ended up unearthing far more than anyone expected. Its impartiality was emphasised by the way it was reviled by both sides, both stalwarts of the apartheid regime and the ANC itself, found guilty of murdering white civilians, Black opponents, of prosecuting a civil war with Inkatha, and the 400-plus victims of ‘necklacing’.

Meredith’s account of Mandela’s sustained efforts to achieve reconciliation between the races at every level bring a tear to the eye. What a hero.

His successor, Thabo Mbeki, elected unopposed to lead the ANC in 1997, was not a hero. Despite having been raised a communist, Mbeki promptly announced a set of neoliberal capitalist policies designed to boost the economy, namely strict fiscal discipline, lower government deficits, privatisation and liberalisation of state industries.

But Mbeki will go down in history as the man who adopted a minority view that HIV did not cause AIDS, promoted this view at every opportunity, refused to support AIDS awareness campaigns, refused to license anti-HIV drugs, for year after year, in the face of mounting criticism both within SA and internationally.

Mbeki insisted on playing the race card i.e. insisting that the global scientific consensus about HIV/AIDS was a racist attack on Black Africans on a par with apartheid. His obstinate refusal to allow anti-retroviral drugs to AIDS patients and pregnant women was calculated, by 2008, to have led to the premature deaths of 365,000 South Africans.

The greatest political challenge facing every nation is not to end up being led by idiots.

Mbeki undertook a more aggressive strategy of getting white businesses to include Black partners but, far from lifting the entire Black population out of poverty, this tended to enrich just the small number of educated, well-connected Blacks. The strategy developed into crony capitalism. Perceiving that they were being discriminated against, some 750,000 skilled whites just left the country, replaced by less qualified or experienced Blacks (p.679). Services decayed. Poverty grew alongside rising violent crime.

South Africa now has exceptionally high rates of murder, gender-based violence, robbery and violent conflict. It has consistently had one of the highest murder rates in the world.

Mbeki turned into a typical African leader. He created a climate of fear in the ANC. He emasculated parliament. He appointed officials for their loyalty to him, not their abilities. He shamefully supported Robert Mugabe even as Mugabe turned into a dictator and reduced his country to beggary.

And, falling into line with traditional African leaders, Mbeki and his cronies became involved in corruption, in particular creaming off hundreds of millions of dollars from state defence procurements. The ANC became split between the Mbeki faction and one led by Jacob Zuma, who himself was charged with money laundering, fraud and rape.

In 2007 Zuma stood against Mbeki and won the post of ANC leader, then stood for the presidency in 2009. The party split, but corruption became more embedded. The gap between rich and poor grew. Crime became the only way to survive for millions. After this book was completed Jacob Zuma went on to be elected president and serve from 2009 to 2018.

Incidentally, Meredith has written a series of books about South Africa, including a biography of Mandela, which explains the authoritativeness of his SA chapters:

  • In the Name of Apartheid: South Africa In The Post War Period (1988)
  • South Africa’s New Era: The 1994 Election (1994)
  • Nelson Mandela: A Biography (1999)
  • Coming to Terms: South Africa’s Search for Truth (2001)

35. Out of Africa

Decline

In 2001 the Organisation of African Unity was replaced by a new African Union. Same old dictators, though. Same corruption, same tribalism, same civil wars. Same population explosion which means half the population live below the poverty line, same huge unemployment, with millions permanently on the brink of starvation. 250 million Africans are undernourished; school enrolment is falling; life expectancy is falling. [This appears to be wrong, now; life expectancy in Africa is, apparently, 63.]

MDGs

By some estimates the West has spend £1.2 trillion in aid to Africa. There has often been little to show. In the 2000s there was a flurry of activity with the creation of the Millennium Development Goals. In 2005 Bob Geldof created a huge media event around the Live 8 campaign and gigs. But the West has donor fatigue. Pledges made under MDGs and Live 8 weren’t carried through. African countries have promised to reform and then utterly failed to do so too many times.

China

Into the breach has stepped China, which has been signing trade deals across Africa. The Forum on China-Africa Cooperation (FOCAC). By 2010 China-Africa trade had leapt to $115 billion. A million Chinese had moved to Africa.

The Arab Spring

And then, just as Meredith was completing this book, along came the Arab Spring leading to the overthrow of ageing dictators in Tunisia, Libya, Egypt and on into the Middle East i.e. Yemen, Bahrein, Syria. And yet within a few years, Egypt was back in the hands of the military, Libya had collapsed as a state, Syria fell into a ruinous civil war; only Tunisia survived and flourished as a democracy.

Kenya

Meredith ends with the calamitous recent history of Kenya, which threw out Daniel arap Moi and his cronies (known as the Karbanet syndicate) after 23 years of looting the country. However, his successor, Mwai Kibaki, merely instituted a new kleptocracy for his tribe and supporters (who came to be known as the Mount Kenya mafia). Corruption reached scandalous new heights with some $4 billion a year, or one third of the national budget, being raked off by the corrupt elite.

When Kibaki refused to accept the results of the 2007 election i.e that he had lost to opposition leader Raila Odinga, he plunged Kenya into tribal bloodshed which left thousands dead, the economy damaged and Kenya’s reputation for stability in tatters. It had become just one more African country, ruined by its corrupt rulers’ inability to cede power.

Africa’s wounds are self-inflicted. Africans have proved ruinously incapable of running their own countries. Meredith ends his book by describing the majority of Africa’s rulers as ‘vampires’ who have converted all the instruments of the state into money-making scams, who use rabble-rousing ethnic rhetoric or state terror to remain in power, while their populations slip ever backwards into poverty, sickness and starvation.

Thoughts

Some pretty obvious themes emerge from this 700-page odyssey but in the last 5 or 6 chapters something bigger than the themes struck me, which is that this is a very negative view of Africa. Often it is very harrowing and dark indeed, as when the subject matter is bleak, as in Algeria, Congo, Rwanda, Sudan, Angola.

But it took me a while to grasp how much this is a journalist’s not a historian’s or academic’s point of view of the subject. And, like all journalists, Meredith accentuates the negative. Man buys a puppy for his kids, who love it, is not news. New puppy attacks children, that is news.

I know it’s an obvious and well-known journalistic principle, but in the last 100 pages it really struck home that Meredith focuses relentlessly on the bad news, on countries with long-running wars and political crises, the ones we read about in the newspapers: Nigeria, Sudan, Angola, Zimbabwe, settings for horrible wars, massacres, genocides even. On the basis of this book it would be tempting to write all of Africa off as an irredeemable disaster zone. But there are 50 or so countries in Africa, and not all of them are having civil wars all the time. Some of them might even be doing rather well. Many people might be living ordinary lives, doing jobs, getting married, having parties. Despite the impression Meredith gives, life expectancy across Africa is actually rising.

Anyway, that was my one Big Thought: that if you only read this book you would be left with the impression that Africa is a vast abattoir of eternal massacre and mutilation, vampire leaders and epic corruption. I don’t think Meredith intends to be biased and I’m sure everything he writes is absolutely true. But by the end of his book I began to think that it’s not necessarily the complete truth, about the entire continent, and all its countries, and all the people who live in them.


Credit

The State of Africa: A History of the Continent since Independence by Martin Meredith was published in England by the Free Press in 2005. A revised edition was published by Simon and Schuster in 2011. All references are to the 2013 paperback edition.

Related links

South Africa: The art of a nation @ the British Museum

This is an interesting and enlightening exhibition with plenty of good things in it, but which in parts is a little puzzling and frustrating.

Deep prehistory

The curators (John Giblin, Chris Spring and Laura Snowling) say they’re setting out to give an overview of the art of South Africa and this they certainly do with visual representations of every period of South Africa, beginning in the inconceivably distant past with a stone from a site inhabited by pre-humans some 3 million years ago. The experts think it was brought from some distance away because of its presumable similarity to a human face, and so indicates self-awareness in our remotest ancestors.

There’s a hand axe made by Homo ergaster, a predecessor of Homo sapiens, and dated to 1 million years ago – apparently, in fact, not that practical as an axe, but here to demonstrate that an aesthetic sense seems to have existed in our remotest ancestors.

There’s the Blombos Cave beads, created some 75,000 years ago, painted and pierced in order to be strung together as a necklace. There’s the Coldstream Stone from 9,000 years ago.

Coldstream Stone, ochre, stone (c. 7000 BC) © Iziko Museums of South Africa, Social History Collections, Cape Town

Coldstream Stone, ochre, stone (c. 7,000 BC) © Iziko Museums of South Africa, Social History Collections, Cape Town

And the beautiful Zaamenkomst Panel, cave paintings made between one and three thousand years ago.

Taken together, these wonderful objects give a powerful sense of South Africa as one of the origins not only of early humans but of the earliest art works.

Contemporary art

What’s a little confusing is that right from the start this very museum-y ancient history is mixed in with works by contemporary South African artists – a lot of works. It may be creative curating, but it means it’s quite a lot to take on board – the origins of our species, the ancient prehistory of the area, done rather quickly – while, at the same time, we’re trying to understand post-apartheid art which, by its nature, mixes African traditions with the confusing panoply of postmodern artistic techniques and assumptions.

Thus I can see that it’s clever to place Potent fields by Karel Nel (2002) next to the ancient cave paintings, since both use ochre as a colour and material. And the curators have put a tapestry, ‘The Creation of the Sun‘, made by artists at the Bethesda Art Centre, opposite the cave paintings to show the continuity of style and creativity from South Africa’s first peoples, the San|Bushmen and Khoekhoen, to their contemporary descendants. In these first rooms we also see:

Clever but… it demands quite a lot of the visitor to juggle all these different frames of reference.

Tone

Another slightly disorienting element is the rather patronising or simplistic tone of the commentary. Right at the start there’s a wall panel titled ‘Cradle of Humanity’, which points out that the prehistoric finds gathered here prove that humanity evolved in Africa and so that – contrary to Eurocentric narratives – we are all in a deep sense Africans. What puzzled me is that I’ve never thought otherwise, I’ve never read anywhere anywhere any alternative theory of human origins: all my adult life I’ve known that humans evolved from apelike ancestors in Africa, my children know that, everyone knows it. A quick search reveals that Darwin suggested it as long ago as 1871 in The Descent of Man. Who are they arguing with? If apartheid taught that humans evolved in some other place – like Holland – it would have been informative and funny to have read more about it.

Scattered throughout the exhibition are wall panels talking about the need to fight and counter apartheid ‘narratives’ about the ‘savagery’ of the blacks or their ‘lack of culture’ – all cast in the present tense, as if this is an ongoing struggle.

a) I was there in the 1980s when we all wore anti-apartheid badges, sang along to ‘Free Nelson Mandela‘ and ‘Biko‘, and boycotted South African products. I never met anybody who in any way defended apartheid. Looking around the visitors to the show, I don’t think there was much risk that any of them would defend ‘apartheid narratives’ about ‘savage’ blacks or the ‘lack of black culture’.
b) It was all such a long time ago. The apartheid regime collapsed in the early 1990s and free elections brought the ANC government to power in 1994, 22 years ago. Many of the wall panels give the impression the curators are still bravely fighting a battle which, in fact, ended a generation ago. My companion joked that maybe their next exhibition should be devoted to bringing down the Soviet Union.

Because of the interleaving of big and very varied works by contemporary artists I found the timeline of pre-colonial South African art a bit hard to follow. I got that the Bantu people spread across the region (which in fact I knew from Chris Stringer’s book The Origin of Our Species). There was a case of exquisite gold statuettes of African animals, including a golden rhino which, we were told, are from Mapungubwe, capital of the first kingdom in southern Africa (c. AD 1220–1290). Maybe I blinked and missed the follow-up information, but I would really have liked to learn much more about the rise of kingdoms and territories and language groups and cultures and traditions across this huge area.

Gold rhino from Mapungubwe, capital of the first kingdom in southern Africa (c. AD 1220–1290) Department of Arts © University of Pretoria

Gold rhino from Mapungubwe, capital of the first kingdom in southern Africa (c. AD 1220–1290) Department of Arts © University of Pretoria. The golden rhino is now the symbol of the Order of Mapungubwe, South Africa’s highest honour that was first presented in 2002 to Nelson Mandela.

Maybe the history just isn’t there, I mean the written history that would allow that kind of detailed narrative to be constructed. There were a few display cases showing weapons – a big shield made of hide alongside spears – and another one containing traditional carved wood figures, including a really beautiful ‘stylised wooden figure’, examples of traditional beadwork and some striking traditional dresses.

But I felt slightly afraid of liking anything because the wall labels made quite a point, repeatedly, of emphasising how the European colonists from the first Dutch arrivals in the 1650s through to the end of apartheid in the 1990s, had in a whole host of ways denied the validity of pre-colonial art and culture, denying in fact that the land was inhabited at all or, if conceding that it was, then only by ‘savages’ who didn’t plough or reap, by non-Christians who needed to be converted, by violent tribesmen who needed to be pacified.

And that one of the ways the European colonists/imperialists/racists limited and controlled the native people was by defining their art and traditions as ‘exotic’, pigeonholing them as ‘primitive’, demeaning and debasing their traditions and achievements. Thus told off, I felt a little scared about ‘liking’ any of the pre-colonial art in case I was displaying an ‘ethnocentric’ and patronising taste for ‘the exotic’.

Xhosa snuffbox in the shape of an ox, South Africa (Late 19th Century) © The Trustees of the British Museum

Xhosa snuffbox in the shape of an ox, South Africa (late 19th Century) © The Trustees of the British Museum

This unnerved me because some of my favourite objects in the whole British Museum are the wonderful bronzes of Benin, among the most complete and finished works of art I know of from anywhere – as well as the whole range of weird and wonderful and powerful fetishes, images and carvings in the Museum’s Africa galleries.

Contemporary art 2

Anyway, the main thing about this exhibition is that interwoven among the pre-colonial artefacts which you would normally associate with the British Museum, are the works of a large number of modern and contemporary South African artists, black and white, men and women. Hopefully we are freer to express an opinion about these without running the risk of being considered ethnocentric or Eurocentric.

Apparently, the Museum has been collecting contemporary South African art for some 20 years, since – in other words – the collapse of apartheid, the first free elections and the coming to power of Nelson Mandela and the African National Congress. This explains why so many contemporary artworks are threaded through the show right from the first room and why the later rooms are entirely full of what you’d call modern art.

Artists and works

  • The Watchers by Francki Burger (2014) a photo montage of the site of the Battle of Spion Kop in the Boer War.
  • Oxford Man by Owen Ndou.
  • Pantomime Act and Trilogy by Johannes Phokela.
  • The Battle of Rorke’s Drift by John Muafangejo.
  • Butcher Boys by Jane Alexander (1986) not actually physically in the show, there is a vivid photo of it here.
  • It left him cold – the death of Steve Biko (1990) by Sam Nhlengethwa.
  • The Black Photo Album/Look at Me by Santu Mofokeng, who has spent years researching and retouching hundreds of black and white photographs commissioned by urban black working and middle-class families in South Africa between 1890 and 1950.
  • Christ playing football by Jackson Hlungwani (1983).
  • Candice Breitz’s extended video ‘Extras’, filmed on the set of a popular black soap opera, in which all the actors play out straight soap opera scenes except with the artist herself, blonde Candice, placed in bizarre stationary positions around the set. I laughed out loud when I read that it explores ‘an absent presence or a present absence’ – it’s good to know that Artbollocks is a truly international language.

Willie Bester’s Transition (1994) commemorates seven children killed when security forces stormed a house supposedly occupied by terrorists. (See a video of the artist talking about it).

Transition (1994) by Willie Bester (born 1956). Private collection © the artist

Transition (1994) by Willie Bester (born 1956). Private collection © the artist

South African timeline

It was difficult to grasp the ancientness of the earliest exhibits here, which wasn’t helped by their interspersion with bang up-to-date contemporary art. Apart from the gold animal statues from Mapungubwe (which I’d like to have learned more about), you got little sense of the region’s pre-colonial history. Many artefacts (carvings, weapons, figurines), yes; but a clear chronology with maps? Less so.

Purely from the point of view of being able to orient oneself in time and space, it was in many ways a relief to enter recorded, written history with the arrival of the Europeans and the (all-too-familiar) story of colonisation. The Portuguese made the first contacts in the 1490s, but it was the Dutch who built a settlement at Table Bay in the 1650s, as a stopover on the long sea voyages to their trading colonies in the East Indies. The British seized Cape Town from the Dutch during the Napoleonic Wars (1803 to 1815). It was this dual colonisation which explains why the country is English-speaking but with a large Dutch or Afrikaans minority, a minority the British went to war with twice, in the First Boer War (1880 to 1881) and the more famous second Boer War (1899 to 1902).

It was informative to learn how in the 19th century the British Empire imported labour from elsewhere in Africa and Asians from Indonesia and India, to work in South Africa. The exhibition includes one of the distinctive pointed hats worn by Chinese immigrants, as well as a pair of sandals the most famous Indian immigrant – Mahatma Gandhi – made for the country’s leader, General Jan Smuts, while he was in prison in 1913. Gandhi was to formulate many of the ideas in racist South Africa which he then took back to India to use in his campaign for independence.

As a language student I learned:

  • That ‘Hottentot’ was a Dutch nonsense word meaning ‘one who stutters’, insultingly applied to the native blacks because of the use of click sounds in the San language. Hence it is a derogatory word which is not now used.
  • That ‘Kaffir’, another derogatory term for blacks widely used in colonial times, derives from the Arabic for ‘unbeliever’.
  • That ‘Boer’ derives from the Dutch word for ‘farmer’.

What I’ve never really understood and didn’t get any enlightenment about here, is the period between the First World War – when South Africa sent troops to fight alongside the British – and the end of the Second World War, when the foundations were laid by Nationalist governments for the system which would become apartheid. There were several rooms about the evils of apartheid and one about the end of apartheid, but I was left as ignorant as before about the origins of apartheid – about the economic, social and cultural forces which led to its creation, with the main milestones clearly marked out and explained.

Modern South Africa

The room full of images of the horror, violence and oppression of 1960s and 70s and 80s apartheid, with records of the Sharpeville Massacre (1960), the murder of Steve Biko (1977), a display case full of ‘Free Nelson Mandela’ badges and so on, felt very familiar to me from my school days in the 1970s and student days in the 1980s, when we all protested against apartheid, signed petitions, boycotted South African goods and so on.

As I viewed photos and artworks depicting the humiliations, poverty, incredibly long hours forced to work in menial jobs and the debasement and restrictions imposed on blacks by the apartheid state, I wondered whether the exhibition was going to dwell on the exploitation, the anger and the resistance of people during that era, and move on to cover the 25 years since Nelson Mandela was released, when things have got a lot less black and white.

For according to the newspapers, TV, documentaries and films which I consume, since liberation South Africa has developed into one of the most crime-ridden societies in the world, with just over 50 murders a day, and so many rapes that it has been called ‘the rape capital of the world, with one in four men admitting to having raped someone’.

At the same time South Africa is thought to have more people with HIV/AIDS than any other country in the world – 5.7 million, 12% of the population of 48 million. There was a small display case showing some dollies made in a traditional style which were a response to the AIDS epidemic by an artistic collective – but nothing about the era of ‘denialism’ under Thabo Mbeki (president from 1999 to 2008), who refused to accept the link between HIV and AIDS, and whose ban on antiretroviral drugs in public hospitals is estimated to be responsible for the premature deaths of between 330,000 and 365,000 people.

BMW Art Car 12 (1991( by Esther Mahlangu (b. 1935) © Esther Mahlangu. Photo © BMW Group Archives

BMW Art Car 12 (1991) by Esther Mahlangu (b. 1935) © Esther Mahlangu. Photo © BMW Group Archives

Contemporary South Africa today faces immense social, political, economic and medical challenges.

In the videos supporting the exhibition, the Museum curators make the point that this is quite a ‘political’ exhibition. That would have been the case if this was 1986 and voices could be found – in Mrs Thatcher’s Conservative Party, say, or the CIA – which defended the South African apartheid regime as a vital bulwark against Soviet-backed communism – but that was an era ago and it feels like they are fighting yesterday’s war.

Throughout the exhibition the curators criticise the Eurocentrism and racism of the colonists and the Imperialists and the founders of apartheid, who denied or denigrated black cultural achievements – as if this was still a battle being fought now; as if apartheid is still a flourishing regime which urgently needs challenging; as if unregenerate imperialist views about pre-colonial South African history are still widely held by lots of people.

In the exhibition, gold treasures of Mapungubwe will be displayed alongside a modern artwork by Penny Siopis and a sculpture by Owen Ndou that encourage the viewer to challenge the historic assumptions of the colonial and apartheid eras. (Press release)

Really? Does anyone even know what ‘the historic assumptions of the colonial and apartheid eras’ are, that are being challenged? In this respect it feels incredibly old-fashioned: the Us-versus-Them mindset made me nostalgic for my student days when international politics were so much clearer cut.

Meanwhile, back in 2017, the modern ‘struggle’ in South Africa is to formulate economic and social policies which will boost the economy and try to spread wealth and well-being out to the great bulk of the (black) population who have never seen the benefits of the end of apartheid and who are still mired in poverty and illness. A much harder ‘struggle’ because it is no longer so easy to identify the goodies and the baddies and, in fact, there may be no easy solutions.

Credit

Hats off to Betsy and Jack Ryan who sponsored the exhibition and to IAG Cargo who transported many of these objects from museums and galleries across South Africa. It’s a brilliant opportunity to see all kinds of works from South Africa, from the rarest prehistoric artefacts to bang up-to-date contemporary art. Maybe it’s my fault if I found so many complex histories and paradigms difficult to process in one visit.

The trailer

Museums and galleries are producing more and more videos to explain their exhibitions. The British Museum has set up a channel containing eight videos about this show.

I strongly recommend watching the videos before going to see the exhibition, as they explain the rationale for the layout, and prepare you for the emphasis on modern artworks, ahead of your arrival.


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