In the crucible of colonialism and apartheid, two voices rose to shatter the silences of oppression: Frantz Fanon and Steve Biko. Their ideas – fiery, unyielding, and profoundly human – continue to incinerate the false binaries of racial hierarchy and ignite debates on liberation, identity, and power.
Prepare to engage with ideas that refuse to be contained – and to grapple with the question: what does it mean to be human in a world still haunted by the ghosts of colonialism and apartheid?
FANON AND BIKO’S WORDS ARE A HEALING TONIC TO MANY DAMAGED AFRICAN SOULS
Fanon and Biko wielded words like weapons, aiming to shatter the delusions of whiteness and ignite a reckoning with the racial hierarchies that haunt our world.
As Fanon cut deep, “Sometimes people hold a core belief that is very central to who they are…”. But let’s be real, he’s not just talking about any ‘core belief’. He’s talking about the fantasy of superiority that’s been shoved down black throats for centuries.
Biko said, “The most potent weapon in the hand of the oppressor is the mind of the oppressed”. Biko’s assertion is a paradigmatic example of how systemic oppression operates through the internalization of dominant ideologies, effectively perpetuating subjugation through the self-regulating mechanisms of the oppressed. This notion is, quite frankly, mind-blowing, delivering a metaphorical punch to the gut that forces a re-evaluation of the power dynamics at play. His words cut through the noise, hitting you right on the feels, and laying bare the insidious nature of ideological control. As a masterful orator, Biko’s statement is a clarificatory call to critical consciousness, urging the oppressed to recognize and resist the internalized oppression that hinders their liberation – a testament to his unparalleled ability to distill complex ideas into potent, gut-wrenching truths.
This analyses plunges into the depths of Biko and Fanon’s thought, confronting the provocations of their ideas and their ongoing relevance for contemporary struggles against systemic racism, inequality, and epistemic erasure.
ARE YOU BLACK OR BROWN?
In a courageous display of resistance, Steve Biko appeared before a South African court, confronting the entrenched racial hierarchies of the apartheid regime. When questioned by a judge Boshoff as to why he insisted on identifying as “black” despite being described as “brown”, Biko retorted with characteristic incisiveness: “My Lord, it’s in the same way as I think white people are more pink and yellow than white.”
Through this pointed remark, Biko exposed the arbitrary nature of racial classification, subverting the dominant discourse that sought to legitimize the oppression of black South Africans. By rejecting the imposed categories of the apartheid state, Biko reclaimed agency over his own identity, challenging the system’s very foundations.
That exchange exemplifies Biko’s unwavering commitment to dismantling the ideological underpinnings of racism, highlighting the ways in which power operates through language and categorization. It was the 1970s, and South Africa was in the grip of apartheid, a regime that had institutionalized racism and denied black people basic human rights. Biko, a young medical student and activist, had emerged as a key figure in the anti-apartheid movement, advocating for black consciousness and self-empowerment.
CULTURE OF INFERIORITY
Meanwhile, on the other side of the continent, Frantz Fanon, a Martinique-born psychiatrist and philosopher, was writing about the psychological and socio-economic mechanisms of colonial domination. His seminal work, “Black Skin, White Masks,” published in 1952 (24 years before the Biko-Boshoff exchange), had exposed the ways in which colonialism had created a culture of inferiority among black people, leading to a perpetual sense of inadequacy and mimicry.
Fanon’s work was shaped by his experiences as a black person in a colonial society, where he had witnessed firsthand the brutal suppression of the Algerian revolution and the imposition of French culture on African societies. His ideas were also influenced by the likes of Aime Cesaire, the Martinique poet and politician who had coined the term “negritude” to describe the shared experience of black people under colonialism.
DESIRE TO BE WHITE
Fanon’s work laid bare the psychological damage inflicted on black people by colonialism. He argued that the desire to be white is a product of the colonial system’s imposition of white superiority, leading to a perpetual sense of inadequacy and mimicry. This internalized racism, according to Fanon, manifests in various ways, from skin bleaching to the adoption of Eurocentric beauty standards.
Biko, too, recognized the insidious nature of racism, noting that it “operates to make the black person feel inferior and the white person superior.” He saw this as a deliberate attempt to strip black people of their dignity and agency, rendering them powerless in the face of oppression.
However, some critics have argued that Fanon and Biko’s work relies too heavily on a binary opposition between black and white, overlooking the complexities of identity and experience within these categories. Others have noted that the emphasis on the psychological effects of colonialism can lead to a neglect of the material and economic dimensions of oppression.
INTERSECTIONAL OPPRESSION
Fanon and Biko’s work also highlights the ways in which racism intersects with other forms of oppression, such as patriarchy and homophobia. For example, Fanon’s discussion of the “colonial woman” reveals the ways in which black women are subjected to multiple forms of oppression, including racism, sexism, and classism.
Similarly, Biko’s critique of apartheid’s attempts to regulate black sexuality and family life highlights the ways in which racism is intertwined with homophobia and patriarchy.
The struggles faced by black women in South Africa, who are disproportionately affected by poverty, violence, and HIV/AIDS, illustrate the need for intersectional approaches to social justice. The experiences of black LGBTQ+ individuals, who face high levels of violence and marginalization, also underscore the importance of recognizing and challenging intersecting forms of oppression.
CRITICS CONSIDERED
The influential ideas of Frantz Fanon and Steve Biko continue to shape anti-colonial and anti-racist thought, yet they are not without their complexities. Some critics suggest that their emphasis on black consciousness and identity, while crucial for mobilization, may inadvertently lead to a narrow focus that overlooks the value of global solidarity and coalition-building. Additionally, their critiques of colonialism and racism, though foundational, can be seen as broad in scope, potentially neglecting the unique historical and cultural contexts that define individual experiences of oppression.
These observations highlight the importance of contextualizing Fanon and Biko’s work within the specific struggles they addressed, while also acknowledging the need for adaptable frameworks that can address the complexities of contemporary social justice movements. By engaging with these ideas critically, we can deepen our understanding of their contributions and limitations, ultimately strengthening our approaches to addressing systemic injustices.
Some have viewed the Rhodes Must Fall movement’s (University of Cape Town) invocation of Biko and Fanon’s theoretical frameworks highlights both the enduring relevance and the limitations of their critiques of colonialism and racism. While their ideas provided a crucial foundation for the movement’s advocacy for decolonization, they also exposed potential tensions and lacunae in their approaches.
Biko’s emphasis on black consciousness, for instance, has been critiqued by some for potentially reinforcing essentialized notions of identity, which can lead to contestations over who constitutes the “authentic” voice of the marginalized. Furthermore, Fanon’s broad critiques of colonialism, while powerful, is seen by some as insufficiently attentive to the specificities of context, necessitating nuanced engagement with the particular historical and institutional contexts in which decolonization is being pursued.
These criticisms encourage the importance of contextualizing yhe reflected frameworks to address the multifaceted nature of power and oppression.
FANON AND BIKO’S VIEWS ABOUT TODAY
If Fanon and Biko were alive today, they’d likely have mixed feelings about Africa’s progress.
Joyfully Heartened
On one hand, they’ve likely would’ve been heartened by Africa’s progress in certain areas.
They would have recognised the growing economic clout, with the continent expected to experience the world’s fastest labour force expansion, adding 740 million working-age people by 2050.
They would have smiled at the African Continental Free Trade Area (AfCFTA) as a significant step towards regional integration, aiming to increase intra-African trade and economic growth.
Disheartened
However, they’d probably be disheartened by persistent challenges.
They would be thoroughly unhappy about the extended syate of poverty within the continent.
Surely they would not smile at the state of inequality and unemployment. Despite progress, many Africans still face significant economic and social hurdles. For instance, in South Africa, black African households have seen real income growth, but the average income of white households remains nearly five times higher.
Fanon, in particular, might be critical of the ongoing struggles with colonialism’s legacy, such as land ownership and economic inequality.
Biko, on the other hand, would likely be concerned about the erosion of democratic values and human rights in some African countries. Biko might also have focused on black consciousness and self-empowerment, community-driven development, and challenging systemic racism and inequality.
Ultimately, Fanon and Biko’s ideas emphasize the need for continued struggle and transformation. They’d likely urge Africans to remain vigilant, mobilized, and committed to creating a more just and equitable society.
If Fanon and Biko were shaping Africa’s post-independence priorities, they’d likely focus on economic decolonization, breaking free from colonial economic structures, promoting local industries, and addressing inequality. They’d prioritize addressing historical injustices, ensuring equitable land access, and promoting agrarian development.
They’d also emphasize unity that transcends African borders, strengthening regional integration, cooperation, and solidarity to counter neo-colonialism.
Social justice would be a key focus, prioritizing education, healthcare, and social welfare, with a focus on marginalized communities. Democratization would be crucial, promoting participatory governance, accountability, and human rights.
Cultural reclamation would be essential, revitalizing African languages, cultures, and histories to counter colonial erasure. Self-sufficiency would be a key goal, fostering local solutions, innovation, and technological development.
Both would likely critique external interference, corruption and authoritarianism. Their priorities, centred on empowering Africans, promoting self-determination, and creating a more just and equitable society.
TOWARDS TRUE HUMANISM
So, what’s the way forward?
Fanon and Biko’s ideas suggest that we need to move beyond narrow nationalism and identity politics, towards a more radical humanism that recognizes the inherent worth and dignity of all individuals. This requires us to build coalitions and solidarities across different communities, recognizing that our struggles are interconnected and interdependent.
It also requires us to challenge the systems of oppression that perpetuate inequality and injustice, whether it’s apartheid, colonialism, or neoliberal capitalism. By working together, we can create a more just and equitable society, where all individuals can live with dignity and freedom.
Humanity encompasses all individuals regardless of gender, race, or identity. As we strive for liberation, let’s ensure that our language and actions reflect a commitment to inclusivity and solidarity.
In the end, the question “What does a black person want?” is not a query about a monolithic desire, but rather a prompt to engage with the complexities of black experience and the multiple trajectories of liberation. As Fanon and Biko demonstrate, the struggle for black liberation is a struggle for humanity itself.
Applying Biko and Fanon to living and surviving in Africa and worldwide means embracing a politics of refusal – refusing to be diminished, refusing to be silenced, and refusing to be defined by the legacies of oppression. It’s a constant struggle, but one that’s necessary for reclaiming dignity, identity, and humanity. As we grapple with the complexities of our post-colonial present, Biko’s and Fanon’s ideas remind us that true liberation begins with the mind, and that the struggle itself is a testament to our resilience and resistance. The question is: what does survival look like for you?
Sibongile!!