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British and French Legacies in West Africa
Historian
Paul Nugent’s comment that “Decolonization could never have simply been the
negation of colonization” (Nugent, 8) is astute because it speaks to the varied
levels of legacies felt from the colonial experience. Comprehensively examining the continent-wide
legacies of French and British colonialism in Africa is a monumental task best
suited to lengthy theses and books by dedicated Africanists. Given this wide range of colonial experiences
throughout Africa’s numerous nations, there is an opportunity to investigate
and compare a few countries within a region to cull details indicative of the
overall colonial legacy experience. In this case it is worthwhile to examine
the west African colonial legacy, specifically in Senegal and Nigeria. In these
two nations, the post-colonial legacies surfaced as faltering political and
economic systems. There is also an
underlying story of the effects of second-class French assimilation versus
ignorant British attempts at both subjugation and the elevation of an
“inferior” culture. Ultimately the
post-colonial developments are less about the mode of rule than about the
efficacy of the specific rule and investment in that nation.
The old
Yoruba proverb states that, “Without children you are naked” (Iliffe, 69). This captures well the notion of population
growth, decline and stagnation as a theme of central importance throughout
African history (Iliffe, 5). Approaching
the pre-colonial factors in this manner allows one to examine them generally
and then focus on the post-colonially legacies specifically. Otherwise, one is faced with the difficulty
of associating pre-colonial causes with the artificiality of post-colonial
borders. Initial habitation (confusingly
called “colonization” by Iliffe) cloistered around rivers in West Africa
(Iliffe, 67). This tended to occur in
disparate small villages independent of one another throughout the second
millennium. High infant mortality rates,
famine and disease all stunted and stagnated the population growth in this
area. Disease ranged from malaria to
sleeping sickness and while some resistance was developed to the disease there
was little beyond homespun remedies to combat them (Iliffe, 67-8). Beginning in 1100, four hundred years of
desiccation began; after a brief respite the Sahara desert continued to expand,
stoking famine, which when combined with disease, would routinely destroy
almost half of an affected population (Iliffe, 67-8). While there is only scant reliable data,
historians estimate that one in three children died within their first year of
life. This meant that women responded to
the premium placed on children, giving birth on average six times but breast
feeding them for as long as four years (Iliffe, 67-8). Through the process of colonization this
stagnant trend was reversed, accomplished namely by improved medical care that
drove birthrates upwards and death rates downwards (Iliffe, 248). It was then unfortunate that the European
powers did not also build a capacity to support the population growth through a
sound economic, agricultural and political base.
Another
important pre-colonial factor was the formation of the family unit. One saw this primarily arise in West Africa
through the role of the Big Man (Iliffe, 97). With such a marked focus on
children as a means to propagate wealth, the more children a man had, the more
powerful he could become. The men who
were most successful in this endeavor had multiple wives and even more
children. This ethos made woman
extremely valuable as child-bearers but also served to dehumanize them by
turning them into commodities. It was
not uncommon for these extended families to number as many as forty members,
(Iliffe, 97). These large numbers were
vital because they meant a large workforce to labour in the fields of a west
African region where land was plentiful but the people were not (Iliffe,
95). Eventually, these enormous
families would become villages and these Big Men chiefs (such as among Hausa
and Malinke) (Iliffe, 97). As African
nations transitioned into independence, new versions of the Big Man would
surface as autocratic rulers.
The role of
religion, specifically Islam was an influential determinate in specific parts
of western Africa. In 1804, a jihad occurred that transformed a disparate
Hausaland into the Sokoto Caliphate (Iliffe, 173). Through this initial jihad and subsequent smaller ones the Caliphate exercised
decentralized control over a 400,000 square kilometer area (Iliffe, 175). Such a unique level of authority was only
possible through the religious mechanisms of Islam. The Caliphate model was spelled out in the
Koranic law and Islamic history, giving it the authority of a written charter
(Iliffe, 175). Exercising control and
taxation through the emirs, the Caliphate developed into a robust slaving
society, continually adding numbers of slaves through dry season raids on the
surrounding non-Muslim communities (Iliffe, 176-7). This religious framework
eventually made Hausaland an intellectual, commercial and educational center
(Iliffe, 176). Thus, unlike other
relatively developed areas in Africa, Hausaland possessed an administrative
structure that could be easily assumed by the colonizer. This stood in stark contrast to jihad efforts in the western savanna
that were not able to unite the fragmentary society there (Iliffe, 178).
Finally,
there was no greater pre-colonial causal element than slavery due to its
deleterious effect of population growth and its cementing of a native ruling
elite. In a region that needed to
increase its population, the theft of roughly 11 million people in a 350 year
period (from 1519-1867) was not only morally repugnant but also revealed the
chasmic gap between the personal and the community at large in the region
(Iliffe, 135). The Africans who traded
in slavery propagated this gap with a disregard for the value of and a lack of
kinship with their fellow Africans.
These Africans traders captured and sold slaves, seeking to consolidate
power and followers from among their own people through the acquisition of
wealth and firearms (Iliffe, 139). This
new wealth fueled the ascension of a minority ruling class that thrived on the
slave economy, using its firepower to dominate and control the surrounding
population (Iliffe, 144). The combination
of a heretofore-unrealized power and a completely new economy, as well as an
influx of wealth was an entirely new realm for the inhabitants of the
region. Never before had the political
and the economic been forged in such a viable and lasting manner (Iliffe,
143). In the Niger Delta and the Gold
Coast the wealth and power of the slave trade merged with the Big Men to
solidify a multi-class prosperous society (Iliffe, 145-6).
Much of the
initial “scramble” for Africa stemmed from French governor Briere de L’Isle’s
initiative to use colonial resources to reinvigorate the French economy
(Iliffe, 193-4). These efforts
accelerated a sinusoidal counterbalancing race by the colonial powers of
Britain, Belgium, Portugal, and Germany during the 1870s (Iliffe 194). This
race culminated in the Berlin conference of 1884-5 that formalized much of the
partitioning—tempering the previously accepted British dominance—and
establishing regional free trade (Iliffe, 194-5). While the continent was being carved up on
paper, the actual subjugation and defeat of the African forces proved a much
more difficult task. This task would
have proved impossible if not for the European’s advantage in firepower and the
medical breakthrough of quinine prophylaxis (Iliffe, 198). Perhaps most important was the manner by which
colonial powers cemented and consolidated rule after World War I. Their modus operandi to conquer resistant
tribes with the use of African mercenary armies fit well into the overall
colonial strategy of playing tribes off of each other to diminish their
fighting capability (Iliffe, 198-199).
Ultimately most powers used the same tactics to “civilize” their claimed
territories; however, afterwards the French occupation was more readily felt
since a greater number of their citizens (per capita)
lived and worked in French African territories (Iliffe, 206)
.
Perhaps the
most lasting cause of later post-colonial developments came from the economic
policies of the colonial powers. The
overall trend across flags was a lack of diversification—France and Britain
were only using the colonies as source of tax and trade revenue. Thus their focus was not on creating
well-rounded independent economies with a broad manufacturing base (Nugent,
70). Their focus was on harvesting one
or two raw materials—this meant that later market variations would drive the
nation’s fiscal destiny—a major source of instability. (Iliffe, 208-9). France and Britain did contribute importantly
to infrastructure of the nations (albeit selfishly) through the construction of
railways. These were necessary to
harvest and sell the mineral resources—this natural resource pillaging was to
be a trademark of the colonial experience (Iliffe, 211). These railways also drew settlers to center
around its hubs and stops (Iliffe, 214).
While these railway networks were important economically, their utility
did not last beyond independence since they were not created (or maintained) to
promote regional trade necessarily. One
sees this legacy today in trains that are unable to carry commerce across
borders due to incompatible tracks and rail systems (when they are running).
It is
worthwhile to examine the administrative philosophy of the French and British
mainly to examine their shared follies and false assumptions. William Ponty, Governor general of French
West Africa, summed up the basis for his nation’s philosophy of direct rule as
due to “[African] hereditary rulers [being] nothing more than parasites”
(Iliffe, 206). At the most base level,
direct rule meant molding the African governance system into a French framework
of cercles and subdivisions (Iliffe,
206). To make this artificial system
work, France used African chiefs to manage at the canton and village level (Iliffie, 206). Ultimately even this
direct rule went through Africans, though, because these chiefs still had to be
selected and they still made decisions on some levels. This practice lends credence to the argument
that the contrast with indirect rule was not so drastic (Iliffe, 206). An
important difference, however, was the ideology of unrealized assimilation. Initially France set out to rule its colonies
as adoptive parents conferring citizenship upon the inhabitants of its colonies
(Nugent, 14). Given the immense land
mass and population of their colonies they soon discovered this to be
impractical (and possible dangerous to the ruling French majority) and switched
their tack to one of association. This came to mean an effort to improve and
perfect the existing African society and structure—eerily similar to the
British efforts (Nugent, 14-15).
While many
of France’s later colonies did not get to enjoy the privileges of assimilation, Senegal did and this was
reflected in their eventual backsliding into the default comfort of the chiefs
election system that France had instituted in the late 1940’s (Nugent,
129). One sees the strength of assimilation, however, in the potential
of the close business ties that President Leopold Senghor maintained with
France following their independence.
This linkage to France turned out to be a double-edged sword since the
French ensconced with the majority of their profits back to their own shores
(Nugent, 199). Despite their financial
woes, Senegal has enjoyed a relative domestic stability that continues to make
slow progress toward an international accepted liberal democracy. The
pre-colonial legacy of Islam continues to be important as well; the marabouts
playing a key connective role between the public-at-large and the economic and
political system (Nugent 195-6).
While the
British embraced indirect rule (with exceptions in Southern Rhodesia and Kenya)
to govern their colonies, it was only nominally different from the French
method. Specifically the British first used indirect rule to harness the
existing infrastructure of the Sokoto Caliphate—in doing this they kept the
Islamic administration intact and only replaced the emirs (Iliffe, 207). While this worked well in northern Nigeria,
elsewhere the British did not find similarly robust infrastructures so they
created them—guesswork that was fraught with error—as they tried to organize
and categorize the various tribes in initially ignorance (Iliffe, 239). British indirect rule sought to create a
bureaucracy to “perfect” the existing African community and system. What the majority of those at the British
colonial administration did not realize was that by choosing a leader from
among the Africans they actually undermined that leader’s legitimacy. This was epitomized in the lamentation of
Achebe’s character Captain Winterbottom (Arrow
of God, Chapter 5) that “ The great tragedy of British colonial
administration [is] that the man on the spot who knew his African and knew what
he was talking about found himself being constantly overruled by starry-eyed
fellows at headquarters.” This
disconnect between administrator and implementer was emblematic of the entire
colonial experience; in many cases, indirect rule’s focus manifested too
heavily in institutions—like court and not enough in infrastructure—like roads
(Achebe, Arrow of God, Chapter 10,
103). Ultimately every European power
realized the same thing that the first French Governor of Morocco did when he
proclaimed: “A Ruling class is born to rule, get it on our side” (Iliffe, 208). This exploitative notion has lasting effects
even today.
Nigeria has
been at times a victim of its own size, resources and disparate ethnic
groups. Obafemi Awolowo’s famous quote
that “There are no Nigerians” spoke to the artificiality of the British
construct of fusing Hausa, Igbo and Yoruba together (Nugent, 89). When the British left, chaos and civil war
ensued amidst a haphazard series of military (or former military) autocratic
rulers who attempted to maintain some semblance of governance for more than 30
years (Nugent, 92-3, 421). This bred a
broad dissatisfaction and mistrust of civilian leadership as well as a lack of
faith in the abilities of military regimes to rule effectively (Nugent, 224,
422). The inability of the ruling elite
to account for the concerns of the general populace continues to be a sour
legacy of the British occupation and its arbitrary borders. Further effects of British colonialism are
evident today in Nigeria’s one-dimensional dependence on oil revenue (and
domestic subsidies) instead of a multi-faceted approach that focuses on
building a manufacturing base and long-term infrastructure (Iliffe, 194;
Nugent, 95-6).
In 1948
Britain’s Colonial Secretary Creech Jones opened at the Cambridge
Conference with what was to be a precursor to the end of
British rule by saying of African prospects for the future: “They clamour for
the benefits of civilization without the economic basis to sustain them . . .
We cannot for a long time hope to satisfy all the new appetites of the colonial
peoples and consequently there must be discomfort and agitation.” (Iliffe,
250) Jones’ blatant shirking of
responsibility for the stunted economic system developed by the British is
indicative of a legacy of disconnect between the ruler and ruled. This disconnect led to the localization of
politics—most African communities focused their efforts on resistance to
colonial influence and on their family and tribal structure because they felt
no connection to a government leaders that in most cases had little or no similarity
to their own people—and who definitely were not concerned with that community’s
best interests (Iliffe, 239). This is
also evident in the establishment of the cities as the center of commerce. While urbanization did occur, it did not
occur to the extent known in Europe, instead the cities remained relatively
small (Nugent, 60-1) and a large gap still exists today between the urban
political elite and the mass population living on the periphery.
Perhaps one
of the most ill-fated effects, however, is the lasting legacy of slavery. The long history of slavery in Africa has
reinforced the social stratosphere. One
cannot easily escape a history that monetized one’s fellow human beings. This was evident in the continuation of
slavery in northern Nigeria until 1936 when it was finally outlawed (Iliffe,
213). This mental mindset of innate
superiority is reflected today in an entrenched political elite class and
nominal multi-party system. Furthermore,
in the forging of the economic and political as a single entity one sees the
fruits of corruption. Because the two
have been so long intertwined there is an accepted quid pro quo with regard to
the rights of those in power. Achebe
captured this mindset well with his character Odili’s comment on the people’s
rationale for accepting political graft and corruption: “Only a fool would spit
out a juicy morsel that good fortune placed in his mouth” (Achebe, Man of the People, Chapter 1). This colonial “feeding” robbed the African
nations of the learning experience of developing a political and economic
system on their own. Instead they have
been forced to attempt to use European frameworks that have never worked, even
before their independence.
The
ultimate colonial legacy is yet to be realized—the harnessing of the raw power
of a burgeoning population. Ironically, it is many of the factors that enabled
the subjugation of the African people (breakthroughs in medicine and vaccines)
that have contributed to its future through sustained population growth in the
midst of a global stagnation (Iliffe, 219).
While pan-africanism never developed, there is an opportunity for
Africans to unite as a community to address their own problems of continued
instability and lackluster governance (Nugent, 79). Key to these problems will be the role of
women. Throughout Achebe’s novels one
sees the subjugation of women and only stuttering progress—only when you engage
the neglected half of your potential workforce and intellectual base can
serious steps towards modernity be made.
While it is fortunate that the time period of European colonization was
short, it is unfortunate that in its brevity it left behind only broken
administrative, economic and political systems.
This is evident in both Senegal and Nigeria, two of Africa’s more modern
nations with excellent potential. Both
countries continue to find themselves mired either by an inability to break
free from the colonial legacies of corruption (the latter) and governments disengaged
from the concerns of the majority of their populations living on the periphery
(both). In Achebe’s novel Man of the People, his protagonist Odili
comments that, “It is only when you are close to a man that you can begin to
smell his breath” regarding the utility of combating corruption from the inside
(Achebe in Man of the People, Chapter
8). African nations have spent too much
time during the colonial experience in the rank proximity to corruption and
fiscal and physical slavery; it is imperative they make every effort to
distance themselves lest they become too accustomed to the odor.
REFERENCES
Achebe, Chinua. Anthills of the Savannah. New York: Anchor Press, 2007; 1987.
Achebe, Chinua. Arrow of God. New York: Anchor Books, 1989; 1974.
Achebe, Chinua. A Man of the People. New York: Anchor Books, 1989; 1966.
Achebe, Chinua. No Longer at Ease. New York: I. Obolensky, 1961; 1960.
Achebe, Chinua. Things Fall Apart. Carmel, Calif.: Hampton-Brown, 2008; 1958.
Iliffe, John. Africans: The History of a Continent. African Studies. 2 , New ed. Vol. 108. Cambridge;
New York: Cambridge University Press, 2007.
Nugent, Paul. Africa since Independence. 2nd ed. New York, NY: Palgrave Macmillan, 2012.
Last year I read “The Warmth of Other Suns” and it floored me. As discussed in my review of that book, I’d previously struggled with understanding the urgency and direction of much of the #blacklivesmatter movement. “The Warmth of Other Suns” brings to vivid horrific life the Jim Crow era and its continued echoes into life today for Black Americans. And perhaps “echo” is too soft a word since, for many, it manifests more loudly and clearly like a gunshot, siren, or slammed door. My point being that, after finishing that definitive account of the black exodus from the Jim Crow south, my heart was opened to the very real psychocultural and emotional history felt by many black americans today who still have family members that experienced this multi-generational subjugation and institutionalized hatred.
