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Literature rethink with Richard Runyararo Mahomva
Last week I promised to begin an analytical excursion on Cephas Msipa’s autobiography titled In Pursuit of Freedom and Justice. However, this past week I also purchased David Coltart’s book, The Struggle Continues: 50 Years of Tyranny in Zimbabwe. Thanks to Brian and Jane from amaBooks who availed both books to me. Lately, the two texts have fixed my mind to locating the representation of the nation through the lives of Msipa and Coltart in the pages of their respective memoirs published last month.
This further substantiates that even though the central thesis of Coltart’s book is centred on “50 Years of Tyranny in Zimbabwe”, the country allows free space for dialogue. At the same time, the same tyrannical country in Coltart’s perspective has a political culture which gives room for debate and appreciating citizens’ appreciation of divergent perspectives belonging to this land. As such the intention of this writing is to comparatively assess how the lives of the two men are self-portrayed to illustrate Zimbabwe’s journey. Other readers of this column argued that last week’s analysis was racist, another fellow reader of the column said the issues raised in offering a primary critique to Coltart’s book was “fascist”.
It is surprising that some view Afrocentric dimensions of reason and interrogating historical imbalances grounded on race manifesting in our present through literature as fascism. This indicates how as Africans we don’t subscribe to one point of common-sense. After all, such is a reflection of our epistemic plurality. We are all right in our binary constructed wrongs. However, as I was writing this week’s article I was comforted by Coltart’s demand for us to confront issues of race constructively to find meaning of political realities that shape our thoughts and of course our relations with members of other human race families:
“I could have massaged the past or left vast chunks of it out, but I felt it necessary to confront it. In so doing, I am not seeking to be apologetic; it stems from a belief that unless we truthfully confront our past as individuals and as a nation, we will never be able to learn from the mistakes we have made. I regret some things I have done.” (Coltart 2015: xiv).
Having referred to Coltart’s submission on confronting historical realities on race I hope those who find offence in honest race-talk will not be offended by this comparative analysis of Msipa and Coltart’s life memories. I do not seek to make everybody to qualify my views as the universal truth. Instead, it is important that at the end of the day we embrace different opinions as a way of expressing how such narratives of nation-making continue to inform our split patriotic consciousness.
The roots of coloniality versus the restitution of African humanity in Rhodesia and independent Zimbabwe.
Coltart’s book may have its insufficiencies which we will be dealt with later, but I find it refreshing as it provides a true reflection of a sadistic colonial narrative coming from an upper racial hierarchy insider’s point of view. Writing in independent Zimbabwe, Coltart mentions that he reached his Damascus moment in 1981 just like the biblical Paul who was persecuting the innocent (Coltart 2015: xiii). Reading this view from the book’s introduction triggers the reader’s curiosity on why the guilt of working to the service of coloniality arrived in Coltart’s conscience after independence?
Moreover, considering that the book “is an autobiographical political history of the last six decades of Zimbabwean history… (ibid), the political scientist in me is awakened to argue that the writing’s aim is to exert an effort into the ongoing power struggles in Zimbabwe. It further entails locating oneself in the changing courses of the political culture of the land. For example realising that being racist at the end of colonial rule. This is not different from some who started fingering the ruling party for corruption and despotism after they were shown their respective political exits. This point is substantiated by the titles of both books. One title proclaims a struggle that is continuing, the other summarises the pursuit of freedom and justice.
However, there is no continuity and pursuit without a beginning and varying stages of the initiated course of interest being continued or being pursued. This is why Coltart’s starting point in the book is the trace of his Scottish maternal routes dating back to 1820 which he links to Africa. “I am not originally indigenous to Zimbabwe, either my matrilineal African roots run deep, planted by my great-great-great grandmother . . . “(Coltart 2015:2). The woman referred here was called Rhoda Trollip who sailed with her parents to the present day Eastern Cape among other disillusioned European colonials who came to seek economic opportunities in the continent. These are the Westerners who landed in Africa to gain the humanity that they could not get in Europe.
It is in Africa where they came to search for self-actualisation. As part of transferring this burden of being denied space for self-development these Europeans made the Africans they found on the continent outlets of exploitation. This is why the Xhosa people met by Coltart’s matrilineal line were only labour commodities to them (Coltart 2015: 3). This later saw armed resistance coming from the Xhosa as mentioned in Coltart’s memoir. This is because the whites (Coltart’s family included) were involved in massive violent appropriation of land.
These Xhosa who had begun the fight for freedom, as mentioned by Coltart had a direct effect on his family as his relatives were murdered. The Xhosa of the Eastern Cape shared a similar colonial condition as that of the Msipa family in what was to become Rhodesia after the 1888 Rudd Concession. This historically substantiates a continuity of coloniality that was not only periodic, but was geographically continuing its process tearing down the continent. This was the case all over Africa, hence the shared nativist perspective of a race in “Pursuit of Freedom and Justice” as a shared African experience. This is where David Coltart and Msipa will differ years from now after their published opinions in their respective memoirs. One common aspect emerging from both books is the need to embrace memories of the racial origins with the “paradigm of difference” as a tool of analysis.
Born in 1931 from a rural background under Chief Masunda, Msipa was born into a system that naturally marginalised his being (Msipa 2015: 1). To date, the rural space is a symbol of marginality. It is in the rural areas in the colonial era where black people were labour commodities in the farms of the white land looters. As such young Msipa the rural “native” was disqualified by his skin colour to be enrolled in advanced and the then model educational facilities. At a tender age he was subjected to walking a long distance to school unlike his white Rhodesian counterparts who had the privilege of access to good education. This was because access to public goods (education, health, and social-policy) schemes of the time subjected Africans to defeating conditions of self-development. However, miles away a young Coltart (2015:23) did not have to experience the same conditions:
“In contrast to most Rhodesian children I started Standard 1 in January 1965 at a magnificent school, Hillside Primary. Unlike schools for black Rhodesians, it was world class with what were then state-of -the-art teaching and sporting facilities. It was also within easy walking distance . . . Hillside Primary was still an island of serenity, totally cut off from the turmoil going on in black schools and the country at large.”
The same colonially buttressed privilege facilitated Coltart’s enrolment at the Christian Brothers College (CBC) in 1966 (Coltart 2015: 30-37). Like the previous school, this was another entry point for Coltart into a better education system. This offers a clear indication that even if we denounce matters of race emanating from those shaping the national discourse through literature we are losing the right point of focus.
Our split patriotic consciousness in defining our place in time will be guided by these issues of race and history which cascade to the present economic challenges and prospects of Zimbabwe’s nation-building process. This is why Jeys Marabini in his latest offering sings: Ngubani owathi abantu bayalingana? Ngamanga lawo! Izizwe (races of the world) kazilingani. Yikho abanye behlupheka. (Who said people are equal? That is a lie! Nations (races of the world) are not equal. This is why others are subjected to poverty.)Indeed we need to confront such realities of humanity’s hierarchies to understand the roots of our split patriotic consciousness. To be continued.
Richard Runyararo Mahomva is an independent academic researcher, Founder of Leaders for Africa Network — LAN. Convener of the Back to Pan-Africanism Conference and the Reading Pan-Africa Symposium (REPS) and can be contacted on [email protected]
Bongani Ndlovu