I used to fly helicopters for the Navy. Now I work at U.S. embassies to build our mutual security cooperation/defense relationships. I'm also reading a novel from every country in Africa (33 so far). I'm in the process of moving these over to a dedicated website: www.beyondachebe.com.
Most of my non-africa book reviews are now over at www.kruzoo.blogspot.com
"But being right, even morally right, isn't everything. It is also important to be competent, to be consistent, and to be knowledgeable. It's important for your soldiers and diplomats to speak the language of the people you want to influence. It's important to understand the ethnic and tribal divisions of the place you hope to assist." -Anne Applebaum
I lifted these links from the excellent blog called Greta's Links. She harvests foreign policy reports and when able I will repost the ones applicable to Africanists.
*Incidentally, if you want to know what it looks like on the ground in Senegal, check out this Olmsted Scholar's excellent blog: Megan's Third Junior Year Abroad. http://uiscebatha.blogspot.com/
Poet of the Week Muhammed Al-Faituri from Sudan. Al-Faituri writes in a way that catches ones attention instantly and totally. I only wish I knew arabic so that I could read it in its original form.
I understand Death's contract and the finite ends of life: however long a man lives he lives only to die. At the end, every scream pours like a river into silence but the most dazzling star is that which shows the caravan its way when moss has covered our memories and grief runs wild though the house.
Incidentally, you should read the following article on the difficulties of writing in another language. I've including a snippet to whet your appetite--his insight is also useful for native English speakers as they seek to understand other languages:
I once asked a student from Cairo, “What kind of language is Arabic?” I was trying to put myself into her mental process of switching from Arabic to English. She said, “It’s all adjectives.”
Well, of course it’s not all adjectives, but I knew what she meant: it’s decorative, it’s ornate, it’s intentionally pleasing. Another Egyptian student, when I asked him about Arabic, said, “It’s all proverbs. We talk in proverbs.
I am a big fan of Kickstarter--through it I contributed to the funding efforts of the Blue Like Jazz film last year (premiering at SXSW this March!) Incidentally, go see Blue Like Jazz when it comes out in theatres--it's a challenging film that has something in it for everyone--independent of your religious beliefs.
So if you haven't heard of Kickstarter, check it out today!
Kickstarter offers a way for entrepreneurs and dreamers to realize their goals. It's crowd-sourced fundraising. Typically the fundraisers offer different incentives depending on the amount that you give. The clincher is that if the person/group doesn't meet their goal in the allotted time, you aren't charged anything!
To that end FUUO will select one Africa-related Kickstarter project each month to feature here. The first FUUO Kickstart selection (special thanks to my friend Allison for passing it on) is Lessons of Basketball and War: A documentary project. Here's a description from the website:
“Lessons of Basketball and War” is the story of a small group of adolescent girls who are dropped into Kevin’s life from half a world away in war-torn Somalia. After surviving a childhood marked by violence and deprivation, they now find themselves in a strange land with little to hold onto beyond the familiar comfort offered by family, culture and religion.
In the spring and summer of 1994, I was 15 years old and a freshman at Bedford High School in Massachusetts. Searching my memory of that period, I can't recall even a quick polaroid recollection concerning almost a million people's murder.
That spring
I remember working as a bagger at the grocery store on Hanscomb Air Force Base.
I remember fleeing the base theatre with my friend CJ after we lit up cigars during a movie.
I remember the field where I would play soccer by my school.
What I can recall
I close my eyes and I can smell the dusty paper of the grocery bags.
I close my eyes and I can feel my heart racing as we were chased out of the theatre.
I close my eyes and I can see the long and overgrown green grass of the soccer field.
That same spring
Nearly a million people's last breath and smell was rotten and rife with sweat, urine, and blood.
Murderers crushed and ripped apart nearly a million hearts.
Murderers smashed shut nearly a million sets of eyes.
That same spring
Millions of people
knew.
And millions of people did
Nothing.
Today
Today
Today
Today
and everyday
I trudge with the grief of my own ignorance like a iron yoke on the shoulders of my soul.
BONUS LINK: My entire (so far) grad school notes collection can be found here.
In the spring and summer of 1994, I was 15 years old and a freshman at Bedford High School in Massachusetts. Searching my memory of that period, I can't recall even a quick polaroid recollection concerning almost a million people's murder.
That spring
I remember working as a bagger at the grocery store on Hanscomb Air Force Base.
I remember fleeing the base theatre with my friend CJ after we lit up cigars during a movie.
I remember the field where I would play soccer by my school.
What I can recall
I close my eyes and I can smell the dusty paper of the grocery bags.
I close my eyes and I can feel my heart racing as we were chased out of the theatre.
I close my eyes and I can see the long and overgrown green grass of the soccer field.
That same spring
Nearly a million people's last breath and smell was rotten and rife with sweat, urine, and blood.
Murderers crushed and ripped apart nearly a million hearts.
Murderers smashed shut nearly a million sets of eyes.
That same spring
Millions of people
knew.
And millions of people did
Nothing.
Today
Today
Today
Today
and everyday
I trudge with the grief of my own ignorance like a iron yoke on the shoulders of my soul.
The Guilt of the Silent: An Analysis of Raoul Peck's Sometimes in April
In 2004’s Sometimes in April, director Raoul Peck creates a graphically accurate
account of the genocide that began after Hutu extremists and members of the
Presidential Guard shot down a plane carrying Rwandan President Habyarimana and
Burundian President Ntaryimira on 6 April 1994. This event ignited a killing spree that spread from Kigali
throughout the country, claiming the lives of over 800,000 people—507,000 of
them Tutsis (77% of registered Tutsi population),[i]
in the span of 100 days.[ii] While the film’s details of these 100
days reflect years of careful research by the director, Peck neglects several
key elements whose inclusion would strengthen his story’s purpose. From the start, the movie falls short
in offering deeper context to the relationship between the Hutus and Tutsis
throughout Rwanda’s history. While
the film captures the inaction of the international community throughout the
genocide well, the director’s decision to ignore the negligence and lethargy of
specific individuals and administrations is a disservice to all those
killed. Lastly, the film fails to
address the significance of current Rwandan President Paul Kagame’s decision to
initiate countrywide gacaca
“grass courts” in 2001 in the midst of continuing deliberations by the
International Criminal Tribunal for Rwanda (ICTR).
There
is little to criticize, however, in the Peck’s portrayal of the events
occurring in Rwanda during the genocide.
The movie’s action hinges on the relationship between fictional
characters Augustin, a moderate Hutu captain in the Rwandan military (married
to Jeanne, a Tutsi), and his brother Honoré, a popular “Hutu Power” radio DJ
for Radio Télévision Libre des Mille Collines (RTLM). During the genocide, the international community protests
RTLM as “hate” radio; its DJs regularly list the names and addresses of Tutsis
and moderate Hutus so they can be targeted and killed. As violence erupts, Augustin fears for
his life and that of his family.
After much pleading, he convinces his brother to take his family to the
Hotel Mille Collines where they will be safe, deciding that his brother’s
reputation gives them the best chance to make it through the deadly roadblocks
in the capital city Kigali. After
successfully negotiating a few roadblocks run by civilian militia, Honoré comes
to one run by the military that he is unable to pass or bribe his way
through. Helpless to intervene, he
watches in anguish as Rwandan military soldiers murder his brother’s
family. Honoré sneaks back to the
pit under the cover of night—miraculously finds Jeanne alive, and carries her
to a local church. Jeanne survives
and is later taken by Rwandan soldiers and gang-raped repeatedly. In a fitting piece of justice (one
based on real events), she grabs a soldier’s grenade and kills herself and a
group of them after a brutal rape session, to include a complicit priest (also
based on real events).[iii] This narrative draws to a close as the
Rwandan Patriotic Front (RPF), led by General Paul Kagame, defeats the Rwanda
military and militias, restores order and brings the genocide to an end. The other story told by the film, in
parallel, focuses on Honoré’s trial at the ICTR ten years later, and the two
brothers’ reconciliation. The
director uses their rapprochement to illustrate the complex nature of Rwanda’s
post-genocide growth and progress toward normalcy.
The
film itself begins by tracing the onset of ethnic conflict in Rwanda from the
post-World War II handover of colonial control from Germany to Belgium, noting
that for centuries Hutu, Tutsi, and Twa “shared the same culture, language and
religion.”[iv]
While it is true that they all shared a common language, Kinyarwanda, whether
all three are part of the same ethnic group is a matter widely debated by
scholars.[v] Furthermore, this opening statement
paints too rosy a picture, as it fails to acknowledge the Tutsi’s marked
centuries-long subjugation of the Hutus.
While these details do not excuse the genocide, including them would
offer insight into the psyche of the Hutus and the way in which it was
manipulated, ultimately leading to decades of horrific violence. The disagreement among scholars centers
on the argument that a better description of the Hutus and Tutsis is be one of
different ethnic groups living in the same society as part of a feudal or caste
system.[vi] Regardless of the debate, what is clear
is that they lived in the same region among each other for more than a thousand
years. As different groups
(belonging to different families and following different leaders) settled into
the area, the cattle-herding pastoralists (the Tutsi people) consolidated power
and militarily established a rule (under mwamis, or kings)[vii] over the
region, creating an elite class that would evolve over the centuries. Not every cattle-herder was part of the
ruling class, however, and some farmers (Hutus) also rose to prominence
(especially those skilled in battle).[viii] In general, a Hutu could become a Tutsi
if he bought enough cattle to elevate his social position. Although even if a Tutsi lost all of
his cattle, he would not then become a Hutu. So until the 1800’s, the terms Hutu and Tutsi retained a
degree of fluidity, and people were more apt to define themselves by a specific
region or lineage than by the term Hutu or Tutsi.[ix] It was at the end of the 19th
century, as society in Rwanda became more developed and complex that a degree
of rigidity emerged in how the ruling class defined itself. The Tutsi ruling
class came to define themselves by their power and wealth (typically measured
by the number of cattle owned). The masses and peasants did not own cattle and
were thus defined as subjects, or Hutus.[x] It is worthwhile to note, that while
historians typically recount the relationship between ruler and ruled with a
degree of ambivalence, conquest and violence was an essential part of it. In the next century for instance, Hutus
would call for a ban on the Kalinga,
the royal Tutsi drum decorated with the testicles of defeated Hutu princes.[xi]
It
is then unfortunate that this consolidation and modernization by the ruling
class coincided with European conquest.
In an effort to maintain control and maximize economic benefit, the
Belgians torqued the system already in place, choosing to conduct official
communication only with the ruling class, this belief stemming from their own
warped ideas about racial superiority.[xii] This interaction carried over to the
religious side as well until the 1930’s when Flemish priests replaced Belgian
Catholic ones. These typically
poor Flemish priests more closely related to the Hutus economically. So while educational
opportunities came, they were the second tier ones available through the
Catholic church. In contrast,
Tutsis received the superior French education available through the Belgian
government.[xiii] It is at this point that the film
describes well the racial classification system put in place by Belgium, one
that included identity cards that listed the bearer as “Hutu” or “Tutsi.” In removing any chance for upward
mobility among those ruled (Hutus), the Belgians fostered a growing resentment
that would fester for several decades.[xiv]
This
bitterness manifested itself in 1959, when Belgium rule ended, and power was
turned over to majority rule. On
28 January 1961, the majority (Hutus) spoke and deposed Tutsi King Kigeli V,
replacing him with Hutu president Grégoire Kayibanda.[xv]
Over the next several decades, hundreds of thousands of Tutsi would flee the
country; by 1994 it was estimated that there were between 400-700 thousand
Rwandan Tutsis living outside the country.[xvi] It is this long history that one finds
the fuel for the fire that became the
genocide.
It
is in his description of the international response to this fire that Peck falls short. The film’s primary focus for this is through the actions of
Deputy Assistant Secretary of State for African Affairs Prudence Bushnell, and
through her efforts to influence the United States to act to intervene. True to the historical record, she is
roundly rebuffed by the administration above her when she tries to motivate
action. The film never names
those squelching her effort, however; nor does it delve into the specific
details of President Clinton’s blind eye.
These details are important because they offer insight into the U.S.
decision-making process and the efficacy of the United Nations. A day after the president’s plane
is shot down, the film shows Bushnell referring to a 9-week-old CIA report that
warned of the potential for widespread violence. Bushnell is reprimanded by an older white gentlemen (one
assumes this to be Secretary of State Warren Christopher) “not to bring up the
CIA report again.”[xvii] The pacing of the film’s cuts to the
inaction in Washington exacerbates the lack of detail. In offering only infrequent cuts, Peck
fails to tell the viewer the scene’s place in the genocide’s timeline. Thus when the films shows an internal
USG debate via teleconference regarding the possibility of jamming the hate radio stations (a measure deemed “too expensive and illegal”)[xviii],
the viewer doesn’t know that this debate occurred on or about 5 May, nearly a
month after the killings (roughly 200,000 dead)[xix]
began.[xx] Other than a few news clips of State
Department officials playing semantics with the term genocide on Day 65 of the
crisis (620,000 killed),[xxi]
and a final shot of a nameless White House official thanking Bushnell for her
team’s work on the U.S. belated humanitarian response (which actually aided the
escape of many of the murderers), no other evidence of America’s action is
investigated.
This
omission is unfortunate because there are hundreds of previously classified
documents (all available at the time of the filming) that make it clear that
the U.S. was aware of the slaughter and murder of civilians at the highest
levels, and not only did nothing, but in some cases made efforts to ensure
others did nothing as well. Partly
in response to a request from the Belgian government for “cover’ in their
withdrawal[xxii], on 15
April (64,000 dead)[xxiii]
Christopher sent a cable to the U.S. Mission to the United Nations. In it he stated the U.S. position that
the United Nations Assistance Mission in Rwanda (UNAMIR) must be withdrawn, an
imperative that would be echoed during a Security Council meeting at which the
Rwandan ambassador was present and able to communicate the information back to
the genocide’s perpetrators.[xxiv] The Clinton administration, through
National Security Advisor Anthony Lake, continued to receive intelligence
reports on the killing to include a 26 April one stating that at least 100,000
had been killed.[xxv] Perhaps most damning, however, is a 21
April letter from Rwandan human rights activist Monique Mujawamariya to
President Clinton; in the letter she writes of the genocide occurring and the
dire effect that a UNAMIR drawdown would have.[xxvi] Clinton had met Mujawamariya the
previous year and when she went missing in Rwanda in early April, finding her
became a central task for his staff.[xxvii] After she managed to escape Rwanda and
was found, however, her pleas—and her letter, went ignored by the White
House. At the United Nations, the
U.S. continued to stymie efforts to intervene. In a 28 April memo to Madeline Albright from Deputy Political
councilor to the UN John Boardman, he cautions her to remain “mostly in
listening mode… not commit [the] USG to anything.”[xxviii] Early wording in the same memo makes it
clear that the U.S. was aware of “atrocities” being committed in Rwanda. The ambivalence and impotence of the
White House is best shown in that Rwandan assets in the U.S. were not frozen,
and diplomatic relations with the genocidal government were not cut off until
15 July, 11 days after the genocide’s end.[xxix] During the films final seconds, the
words, “Of those who watched the genocide unfold and did nothing to stop it, no
one has been charged” appear on the screen. By using these documents, and
countless others available, Peck could have made clear exactly who those who
watched the genocide unfold were.
Finally,
the film shows both the ICTR, as well as the gacaca courts taking place in the countryside villages
where the genocide occurred. The
gacaca courts were instituted to address
the backlog of 110,000 alleged genocide perpetrators in 2001.[xxx] Widely criticized by human rights
activists, the informal courts (led by ‘judges’ with only a modicum of legal
training) were held in the villages where the crimes occurred, and allowed
victims to confront their attackers directly. Peck fails to show these controversies, however; nor does he
show that in some cases the criminal’s confession itself was his only
punishment (in many cases it was a combination of confession and time served).[xxxi] While the competing ideas of
retribution and justice in post-genocide Rwanda may have been too large a
project to address in an already long (2 hour and 15 minutes) film, the
director could have made clear that the gacaca courts were a deliberate effort by Tutsi President
Kagame to help rebuild a sense of normalcy and an ability for Rwanda to move
forward.[xxxii] In one of the most densely populated
countries in Africa,[xxxiii]
it was clear that Hutus and Tutsi would have to live amongst each other as
their country recovered.
Given
an event as large and complex as the genocide in Rwanda, Peck does an admirable
job in addressing the ways in which the extremist elements of the Hutu military
and political militias took advantage of the Tutsis’ past systemic subjugation
of Hutus. The pervasive power of
this propaganda is well illustrated in the character of hate radio DJ
Honoré. As Peck superbly
captures the graphic and explicit imagery of genocide, he is in his element,
creating scenes that cannot be ignored, nor ever forgotten by the viewer. Thus it is all the more unfortunate
that the film’s beginning words by Martin Luther King Jr., “In the end, we will
remember not the words of our enemies, but the silence of our friends”[xxxiv]
are not fully honored by naming those silent offenders in the United
States. Perhaps by holding these
mute transgressors accountable, future atrocities can be prevented.
Notes
[i.]. Alison
Liebhafsky Des Forges, Leave None to Tell the Story: Genocide in Rwanda, (New York: Human Rights Watch, 1999), 15.
[ii]. Frontline: Ghosts of Rwanda,
“Timeline,” last modified April 1, 2004, http://www.pbs.org/wgbh/pages/frontline/shows/ghosts/etc/crontext.html.
[iii]. Sometimes in April, “Director’s Commentary,” directed by Raoul Peck
(2004; HBO Home Video, 2005), DVD.
[iv]. Ibid..
[v]. Des Forges, Leave None, 31.
[vi.].
Paul Nugent, Africa Since Independence: A Comparative History, (New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2004), 51, 499.
[vii]. Wayne Madsen, Genocide and Covert
Operations in Africa, 1993-1999, (Lewiston,
NY: Edwin Mellen Press, 1999), 100.
[viii]. Des Forges, Leave None, 32.
[ix]. Ibid., 32.
[x]. Ibid., 32.
[xi]. Madsen, Genocide and Covert
Operations, 101.
[xii]. Ibid., 100.
[xiii]. Ibid., 101.
[xiv]. Sometimes in April, Peck.
[xv]. Madsen, Genocide and Covert
Operations, 103.
[xvi]. Nugent, Africa Since, 451.
[xvii]. Sometimes in April, Peck, 41:08.
[xviii]. Ibid., 1:18.
[xix]. Frontline, “Timeline.”
[xx]. Frank G. Wisner, “DoD Memo, Rwanda:
Jamming Civilian Radio Broadcasts,”
The National Security Archive, The Genocide and the US in Rwanda, edited
by William Ferroggiaro, last modified August 20, 2001, http://www.gwu
.edu/~nsarchiv/NSAEBB/NSAEBB53/rw050594.pdf.
[xxi]. Sometimes in April, Peck, 1:38.
[xxii]. Samantha Powers, “Bystanders to
Genocide,” Atlantic Monthly, September
2001, http://www.theatlantic.com/magazine/print/2001/09/bystanders-to-genocide/4571.
[xxiii]. Frontline, “Timeline.”
[xxiv]. Warren Christopher, “Talking Points on
the UNAMIR Withdrawal,” The National Security Archive, The Genocide and the US
in Rwanda, edited by William Ferroggiaro, last modified August 20, 2001,
http://www.gwu.edu/~nsarchiv
/NSAEBB/NSAEBB53/rw041594.pdf.
[xxv]. Bureau of Intelligence and Research
Report: “Rwanda: Genocide and Partition,” The National Security Archive, The US
and the Genocide and Rwanda, edited by William Ferroggiaro, last modified March
24, 2004, http://www.gwu.edu/~nsarchiv
/NSAEBB/NSAEBB117/Rw23.pdf.
[xxvi].
Monique Mujawamariya, letter to President Clinton, April 21, 1994, The National
Security Archive, The US and the Genocide and Rwanda, edited by William
Ferroggiaro, last modified March 24, 2004, http://www.gwu.edu/~nsarchiv
/NSAEBB/NSAEBB117/RW47.pdf.
[xxvii]. Powers, “Bystanders to Genocide,” VII.
[xxviii]. John S. Boardman, United Nations Memo
to Ambassador Albright, April 28, 1994, The National Security Archive, The US
and the Genocide and Rwanda, edited by William Ferroggiaro, last modified March
24, 2004, http://www.gwu.edu/~nsarchiv
/NSAEBB/NSAEBB117/Rw12.pdf.
[xxix]. Jared Cohen, One Hundred Days of
Silence: American and the Rwanda Genocide,
(Lanham: Rowman and Littlefied, 2007), 148.
[xxx]. Nugent, Africa Since, 484.
[xxxi].
Philip Gourevitch, “The Life After: A Reporter at Large,” The New Yorker, May 4, 2009, http://search.proquest.com.libproxy.nps.edu/docview/233155205
/fulltext/134F41AF92127BBFB2B/1?accountid=12702.
[xxxii].
Gourevitch, “The Life After.”
[xxxiii].
Des Forges, Leave None, 31.
[xxxiv].
Sometimes in April, Peck.
http://fuuo.blogspot.com/2012/02/sometimes-in-april-analysis-paper.html
BONUS LINK: My entire (so far) grad school notes collection can be found here.
I just finished a midterm for one of my classes in which I had to evaluate a film and its director's portrayal of the key issues and characters. I chose the HBO Film Sometimes in April. Having already seen the excellent Hotel Rwanda, I wanted to tackle something new.
A paramount skill that I am learning early in grad school is the importance of targeted research--unfortunately it's still a laboriously slow process for me, but I am improving with each paper. One strategy that I quickly adapted was to find someone's thesis (or a respected paper or book) on the issue of interest and use their his/her bibliography as a starting point. In that tradition my bibliography (not in a specific format since it wasn't required for this paper) follows. I will post my paper later this week.
Frank G. Wisner, “DoD Memo, Rwanda:
Jamming Civilian Radio Broadcasts,”
The National Security Archive, The Genocide and the US in Rwanda, edited
by William Ferroggiaro, last modified August 20, 2001, http://www.gwu
Warren Christopher, “Talking Points on
the UNAMIR Withdrawal,” The National Security Archive, The Genocide and the US
in Rwanda, edited by William Ferroggiaro, last modified August 20, 2001,
http://www.gwu.edu/~nsarchiv
Bureau of Intelligence and Research
Report: “Rwanda: Genocide and Partition,” The National Security Archive, The US
and the Genocide and Rwanda, edited by William Ferroggiaro, last modified March
24, 2004, http://www.gwu.edu/~nsarchiv
Monique Mujawamariya, letter to President Clinton, April 21, 1994, The National
Security Archive, The US and the Genocide and Rwanda, edited by William
Ferroggiaro, last modified March 24, 2004, http://www.gwu.edu/~nsarchiv
John S. Boardman, United Nations Memo
to Ambassador Albright, April 28, 1994, The National Security Archive, The US
and the Genocide and Rwanda, edited by William Ferroggiaro, last modified March
24, 2004, http://www.gwu.edu/~nsarchiv
Philip Gourevitch, “The Life After: A Reporter at Large,” The New Yorker, May 4, 2009, http://www.newyorker.com/reporting/2009/05/04/090504fa_fact_gourevitch.
After just completing a midterm on Rwanda's '94 genocide, I think its important that the violence in Sudan is front and center in the news cycle.
Then I read Texas in Africa's take on Kristof's reporting: Kristof in Sudan
and it gave me pause.
TIA makes very valid points that are worth considering before we automatically applaud certain reporters for their very public (ized) forays into dangerous regions.
TIA also emphasizes that this story DOES need to be reported. I will continue to investigate and aggregate and developments on FUUO--I may even have an interview to repost on later this week. If you don't already, you should follow TIA on twitter:
I am writing a term paper evaluating Raoul Peck's portrayal of the Rwandan genocide in his film Sometimes in April so I find Rwanda's progress to date especially notable.
Following is an insightful article into Kagame's strides against poverty. I am going to find the actual study and post it here once I get it.
The small African nation of Rwanda recently announced that it had cut poverty by 12% in six years, from 57% of its population to 45%. That equals roughly a million Rwandans emerging from poverty -- one of the most stunning drops in the world.
It's a remarkable achievement for Rwanda, which has emerged from civil war and a bloody ethnic genocide in the 1990s. How did it happen? The Times quizzed Paul Collier, director of the Center for the Study of African Economies at Oxford University, about the numbers.
Are there any doubts that the drop is real?
No doubts; I know the economics professor who did the data analysis, and he is highly experienced and painstaking, so it is genuine.
How did Rwanda cut its poverty so much?
There were one or two helpful events, notably the rise in world coffee prices, which pumped money into the rural economy, but, of course, overall the global economy since 2005 has not provided an easy environment for success. Hence, most of the achievement is likely due to domestic policies.
Rwanda is the nearest that Africa gets to an East Asian-style “developmental state,” where the government gets serious about trying to grow the economy and where the president runs a tight ship within government built on performance rather than patronage.
There were strong supporting policies for the rural poor -- the “one cow” program [that distributed cows to poor households free of charge], which spread assets, and the improvements in health programs.
Alongside this, the economy was well managed, with inflation kept low, and the business environment improved, both of which helped the main city, Kigali, to grow. Growth in Kigali then spread benefits to rural areas -- the most successful rural districts were those closest to Kigali.
When you say well managed, what do you mean? What choices did the government make that were signs of good management?
Basically, [President Paul] Kagame built a culture of performance at the top of the civil service. Ministers were well paid, but set targets. If they missed the targets there were consequences. Each year, the government holds a whole-of-government retreat where these performances are reviewed: good performance rewarded, and poor performers required to explain themselves.
An example is the strategy to improve Rwanda's rating on the World Bank's “Doing Business” annual rating, where over the course of six years the country moved from around 140th to 60th in the world rankings. Each component of the ratings was assigned each year to an appropriate minister. So over time, a cadre of government officials has been built up who believe in their ability not just to strategize but to get things done.
What changes can you see now in Rwanda?
Some changes are obvious to the eye -- houses that now have tin roofs instead of thatch. Thatch may look prettier, but the world over, a decent roof is one of the first changes people make when they start the ascent out of poverty. Some of the changes are psychological -- a sense that things really can improve, and a sense that individual families can do something about their circumstances.
What can other countries learn from Rwanda -- or is its story so unique that it can't be copied?
They can learn a lot. If Rwanda can do this well, with all its disadvantages -- landlocked, legacy of conflict, no natural resources -- other African countries should be able to do even better.
Do you think Rwanda can continue to reduce poverty at the same rate in the coming years?
The government has now set its sights on getting the country to middle-income levels. This will require a change in the growth strategy. So far, growth has come primarily from doing better the things that Rwanda is doing already. To reach middle income, new activities will need to be introduced and the economy diversified. Rwanda needs pioneer investors and aid to support them with public infrastructure; I hope that it gets them. If it does, then, yes, poverty can continue to fall fast.
[For the Record, 7:59 a.m., Feb. 16: In an earlier version of the post, the Rwandan capital of Kigali was incorrectly spelled as Kigale.”]
IMPORTANT NOTE: DON'T CHEAT. DON'T PLAGIARIZE. Notes and Papers are shared here for reference and for studying. Footnote as appropriate. BONUS LINK: My entire (so far) grad school notes collection can be found here. All Things Achebe--The Complete Notes Collection
DISCLAIMER: These are my notes that I created from reading the novel and from classroom discussion. Generally speaking, the chapter by chapter summaries are my own, however, the other parts of the posts are what I hope are an amelioration of the classroom discussion.
Man of the People
Notes and Discussion from Class
This
novel takes place in 1964 examines the institutions of Nigeria. Coming out of colonial times, the
people have no sense of taxes or being
taxed, especially the farmers (because the tax is just being wrapped into the
purchase price). Originally
published in 1966, during which there were two coups in Nigeria. The first coup ended the first
republic. After these two coups
Achebe went to Biafra to join their independence movement. When Biafra lost that bid, Achebe
headed to the US for an extended period.
Without
understanding that Chief Nanga is a man of the people, the story does not work. In the novel, it’s the
people that drive the action. It’s
important that Nanga is the only character that talks to the people. Odili never talks to the people in the
same manner. Even at Odili’s
rally, it’s Maxwell who speaks, and he still doesn’t speak to them in the way Nanga
does (paragraph’s ideas mainly attributed to prof).
- How sympathetic is
Achebe’s hero? Achebe portrays
Odili as symbolic of the next generation.
It’s important to note that Achebe writes in the first person, a
departure from his previous novels.
- How do women in this book represent society at large?
Edna
is a pawn and passive figure—the least of the actors.
Elsie
shows a keen lack of fidelity.
Eunice
symbolizes accountability, which is what you want in a nation.
Akilois educated but also a prostitute.
Mrs
Nanga:what’s the deal with her Adam’s apple?
*In
the novel, women go along with objectification. If they symbolize society at large, they are treated as objects that
don’t care that that is the way they are treated.
- Where did lack of selflessness come from? Who’s to blame for this endemic
corruption? Achebe blames it on
scale of largesse—in the nation/state there’s no ownership (like that exists at the village level). Before independence stealing was fine
because it was from the White man, but now it’s stealing from the people?
- How is religion replaced by materialism in the novel?
- Examine the inversion of education’s importance.
- Could Chief Koko’s overreaction (when he thinks that he’s
been poisoned) be a dig at the alarmist nature of that region by Achebe?
- Examine how he uses different women in the novel:
- Examine the theme of infidelity among men and women. Does this transfer to a lack of
fidelity in society at large?
- Jalio is Soyinka (Sho-yeen-kah). How does this idea fit into the novel’s meaning? Incidentally, read some of this man’s
poetry! It’s essential.
- The novel offers Achebe’s commentary on education—they
purge the western-educated ministers at the beginning and voice a disdain for
their education abroad. The action
highlights this competition, as well as the inability of society to hold anyone
accountable, because they don’t
understand how their country fits into the larger global context.
Examine the roles played by fathers in the novel.
Chapter 1
Chief Nanga (Minister of Culture) comes to his hometown
(village) of Anata. He is “a man
of the people.” Background on his
rise to power. He recognizes and
remembers Odili, who is a teacher in the village. He invites him to come stay withi him in the city. The
corruption and the politics are introduced.
- would a
sensible man “spit out a juicy morsel that good fortune placed in his mouth.”
- showing tip of tongue to sky to swear oath?
Chapter 2
Background on Odili and Else, his friend with benefits. Also meet his friend Andrew. Odili is firm in his aspirations and
his work to keep his actions ‘clean.’
He will not stoop to cronyism to get the scholarship to London that he
desires. There is a universal
disdain among politicians for education abroad, however Nanga still looks
forward to his upcoming honorary law degree from a small college in US.
- Objectification and devaluation of women shown in
anecdotes.
Chapter 3
Odili goes to Nanga’s and is welcomed warmly. Background on Odili’s father, a
district interpreter—a powerful and hated man with five wives and 35
children. Odili’s mother died
giving birth to him—there’s shame associated with this. Odili and Nanga visit Chief Koko, who
handles education abroad, but they don’t get a chance to discuss the
scholarship.
- After independence the value of education becomes
inverted. Proximity to power is
most important.
- Corruption feeds and multiplies bureaucracy and vice
versa.
- OHMS, which the elite don’t use. (Our Home Made Stuff)
- the gap between power and previous life is so huge that it
feeds corruption
Chapter 4
Mrs. Nanga gets ready to leave with the children to visit
her village, which they do at least once a year. Americans John and Jean stop by. Jean flirts shamelessly with Nanga while her husband
highbrows it with Odili. Jean and
John work in public relations for Nigeria in their efforts with the U.S.
- Good details about racism and lynching in the US to
contrast with Nigeria’s problems.
Chapter 5
Odili goes to Jean’s party and ends up sleeping with
her. He finds that he doesn’t
really like her but ask to see her again.
For American, Africans are a novelty, one that they hold apart and
distinct from the ‘blacks’ back home.
At the dinner party, Odili has a good time. Nanga never ends up going because Mrs. Akilo arrives at his
home—we find out later that he sleeps with her.
- Shaking the fist is a sign of great honour and respect.
Chapter 6
Odili visits Elsie and sets up a date. He takes Nanga’s Cadillac which
impresses her. They all go
together to a book exhibition to hear Nanga speak.
- Objectification of women again.
- Jalio wrote fictional Song of the Blackbird
Chapter 7
Nanga makes a good speech and they return home. He comments that he likes Jalio after
he sees various ambassadors fawning over the author. They eat dinner and Nanga has sex with Elsie! Odili loses it when he hears them (she
is screaming Odili’s name in a perverse twist) and leaves the house at
4AM. He comes back in the morning
and curses out Nanga and heads to Maxwell’s.
- a dash is a small
loan or bribe—this destigmatizes corruption—it’s just a small quick thing after
all.
Chapter 8
Odili plots revenge against Nanga. Maxwell hold a meeting of the Common People’s Convention
(CPC). While the party has
Communist undertones, Maxwell is quick to reject that label. He reveals that the CPC has an inside
man in the current government.
- All the
politicians care for are women, cars, landed property. It’s like a rap video today. Case in point:
- some in the older
generation wish the white man had never left
- “it is only when you are close to a man that you can
begin to smell his breath”
Chapter 9
Odili goes back to Anata and we hear the story of Josiah,
the bar-owner who took too much.
Odili visits Mrs. Nanga and gets
Edna’s location and then visits her, saying that Nanga sent him to inquire
after her mother (who is in the hospital). He gives Edna a lift to the hospital on his bike but also
crashes it, humorously.
- No greater condemnation: taking things till at last the
owner (the people) notice.
Chapter 10
At Christmas, details of major corruption (more than their
fair share) break out in the media concerning current government. The CPC has Odili run against
Nanga. Odili implore Edna not to
marry Nanga! Odili meets a lot of
opposition in his campaign. It’s
important that he rejects Josiah’s offer of support.
- now we see a dash of
a four-story home!
- we also see that the wooden masks are now a game played by
drunkards and children
- we see Odili enjoying the fear in another person—enjoying
power
- whereas a telegram might take 3 days to reach the country,
rumour took a day or less
Chapter 11
Odili gets bodyguards as the campaign gets vicious. Through it all, he pines for Edna
(probably more than he cares about the CPC). Nanga approaches Odili’s father and tries to buy off Odili with
250 pounds and a two year scholarship.
Odili firmly rejects this.
- “Eating the hills like yam”
Chapter 12
Maxwell arrives from the city with his CPC staff to drum up
support for Odili. Maxwell admits
he took a bribe similar to the one offered to Odili, however, he insists that
the bribe carries no weight and he just did it to take the money. When Odili approaches Edna, she angrily
dismisses him. When the POP finds
out that Odili’s father indirectly supported his son’s campaigning, they nearly
jail him and levy convenient overdue taxes against him. Odili’s home village loses their pipes
for supporting him. Odili writes
off Edna.
Chapter 13
In disguise, Odili goes to Nanga’s campaign meeting. Josiah sees him though and calls him
out. Odili is beaten severely,
with only Edna vainly trying to help.
He wakes up in the hospital and ends up winning Edna. A military coup occurs in the country,
overthrowing the government and suddenly Max is a martyr and a hero.
- corruption equated with “a warrior eating the reward of
his courage” at throwing the white man out
- the people had nothing to do with fall of government—it
was unruly mobs and private armies.
- “but in the affairs of the nation there was no owner, the
laws of the village became powerless.”
- you’ve lived a good life when someone will shoot your
murderer without expecting anything in return.
. Having already seen the excellent 
, (New York: Human Rights Watch, 1999), 15.
, (New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2004), 51, 499.
, (Lewiston,
NY: Edwin Mellen Press, 1999), 100.
