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Towards a Broader Theory of Imperialism

By Patrick Bond

Two leading critics of imperialism – John Smith and David Harvey – have recently fought bitterly on roape.net on over how to interpret geographically-shifting processes of super-exploitation. The risk is that they obscure crucial features of their joint wrath: the unjust accumulation processes and geopolitics that enrich the wealthy and despoil the world environment. Another leading Marxist, Claudio Katz, has recently reminded us of one such feature that deserves far more attention: Rau Mauro Marini’s 1960s-70s theory of subimperialism, which fuses imperial and semi-peripheral agendas of power and accumulation with internal processes of super-exploitation.

The concept of subimperialism can resolve some of the Smith-Harvey disputes. Smith’s book Imperialism in the 21st Century has as its foundation this formula:

the imperialist division of the world into oppressed and oppressor nations has shaped the global working class, central to which is the violent suppression of international labour mobility. Just as the infamous pass-laws epitomised apartheid in South Africa, so do immigration controls form the lynch-pin of an apartheid-like global economic system that systematically denies citizenship and basic human rights to the workers of the South and which, as in apartheid-era South Africa, is a necessary condition for their super-exploitation.[1]

This is a start, but a rounded Marxist-feminist-ecological-race-conscious critique of imperialism needs a stronger foundation. Smith’s problems begin with the South Africa metaphor and extend to the unconvincing binary of oppressed and oppressor nations, whose main shortcoming is that it underplays national ruling classes aspiring to shift from the former to the latter. The analysis also fails to incorporate aspects of ‘deglobalisation’ that are increasingly apparent in this conjuncture (even before the Trump trade war fully breaks out and current financial market mini-crashes lead to another generalised meltdown). Neglect of multilateral power relations and geopolitical bloc formation also characterises the partly-sterile, partly-inspiring debate that Smith strikes up with Harvey in his 2016 book Imperialism in the Twenty-First Century, in Monthly Review Online in 2017 and now on roape.net, the Review of African Political Economy’s website in January-March 2018.[2]

“This is the most vital component: the displacement of over-accumulated capital into geographically-dispersed sites, especially the BRICS, and the re-deployment of this capital into even more super-exploitative sites of surplus extraction

The missing links in contributions from both Smith and Harvey relate to processes of subimperial accumulation and class struggle, especially at a time that so-called global governance (multilateralism) has successfully assimilated the potential challenge by the main bloc of semi-peripheral countries: Brazil, Russia, India, China and South Africa (the BRICS). To be sure, this category was at least briefly deployed by Harvey (in his 2003 book The New Imperialism):

The opening up of global markets in both commodities and capital created openings for other states to insert themselves into the global economy, first as absorbers but then as producers of surplus capitals. They then became competitors on the world stage. What might be called ‘subimperialisms’ arose … Each developing centre of capital accumulation sought out systematic spatio-temporal fixes for its own surplus capital by defining territorial spheres of influence.[3]

This is the most vital component: the displacement of over-accumulated capital into geographically-dispersed sites, especially the BRICS, and the re-deployment of this capital into even more super-exploitative sites of surplus extraction, as Marini had projected, including the extractive industries of Africa – although not without debilitating contradictions that must be raised forthrightly. Hence a slightly renovated system for global management of these contradictions has also emerged, even if downplayed by Smith and Harvey in this recent debate.[4]

“The multilateral ‘reforms’ promoted by subimperial powers extend their own corporations’ accumulation and displace their own class, social and ecological backlashes – again albeit with profound contradictions.”

In short, the power structures of global neoliberalism seamlessly drew in the BRICS over the past decade, especially in relation to world finance (during the 2010-15 International Monetary Fund reform era), trade (at the World Trade Organisation in 2015) and climate policies (at the United Nations from 2009-15). The multilateral ‘reforms’ promoted by subimperial powers extend their own corporations’ accumulation and displace their own class, social and ecological backlashes – again albeit with profound contradictions. And there are few places where these kinds of processes are more obvious than here in South Africa.

Apartheid’s complex geography of super-exploitation

First, any South African metaphor needs more nuance than the typical white-black super-exploitation narrative. The apartheid system super-exploited workers, not merely by denying citizenship and basic human rights at the point of production. There were also profound geographical relationships: urban segregation (the “Group Areas Act” regulating residency); national and regional scales of migrancy regulated by the Pass Laws and Southern African military-enforced political power over labour supplies; and South Africa’s role in the global division of labour and geopolitics.[5] These all allowed the supply of black bodies to serve not only transnational corporations, but also locally-grounded processes of capital accumulation (e.g. the Oppenheimer and Rupert family fortunes), class formation, racism, gendered power relations and ecological stress.[6]

Smith’s point here, correct but incomplete, is that apartheid supplied labour power below the cost of reproduction across what is normally a worker’s life-cycle: the childhood rearing of workers is in a typical advanced capitalist country subsidised by day-care centres and schools; their illnesses and injuries are covered by medical aid systems whether public or private; and their retirement expenses are the result of savings, pensions and social security, all supported by employer programmes or taxation of corporations. During apartheid’s prime, none of these aspects of social reproduction were provided to black workers. That left women in the homelands to look after retired workers, sick workers and pre-workers – children – aside from the few schools run by religious missions. As a result, corporations paid much lower taxes and benefits. Indeed, they enjoyed super-profits, amongst the world’s highest, until the system began to experience severe stresses during the 1970s.[7]

“Like the old Bantustan tribal warlords which the Pretoria regime promoted to power, there is now a global-scale buffer elite emerging which the imperial powers generally find useful in terms of legitimation, financial subsidisation and deputy-sheriff duty – even when anti-imperial rhetoric becomes an irritant”

Smith uses the apartheid metaphor properly at a rudimentary level, insofar as the migrant relationship witnessed tens of millions of black male workers moving (11 out of 12 months each year) to the white-controlled and spatially-delineated cities, mines and plantations, as ‘temporary sojourners’ on the stolen land. But he might have pointed out that payment for their labour power below the cost of its reproduction was subsidised by the oppression of women displaced to rural areas by apartheid and regional colonialism, with consequent stresses to local ecologies – often to the point of breakdown and the formal destruction of the once self-sufficient peasantry. (In the Marxist literatures on South Africa’s “articulations of modes production”[8] and its “uneven and combined development”,[9] this geographical aspect of super-exploitation is a central theme, although in both literatures more could still be done to draw out the gendered and environmental aspects.)[10]

What Smith does not consider properly either in this case or globally, was the obvious political relationship between the Pretoria regime and its patrimonial allies. This relationship assured a broader systemic reproduction of cheap labour in both the internal Bantustans[11] and the neighbouring colonial and later neo-colonial regimes which facilitated this super-exploitative labour relationship until 1994. To write of apartheid simply as a racialised capital-labour relationship, without these gendered aspects, or the ecological stress associated with Bantustan overcrowding, or the overarching state apparatus that arranged and maintained super-exploitation, is to leave out the bulk of the story. Also, in the process, such neglect implicitly negates a major part of the anti-apartheid resistance movement.

Today, South Africa’s rejuvenated (post-1994) modes of super-exploitation deserve similar attention. Strong signals about new varieties of super-exploitation, including within a usurious micro-credit system, were sent in August 2012 at Marikana, a two-hour drive northwest of Johannesburg. There, three dozen migrant mineworkers were shot dead and scores more seriously wounded, many crippled for life; they were amongst four thousand engaged in a wildcat strike against Lonmin platinum corporation, demanding $1000/month for rock-drilling. They were treated by police as “dastardly criminals” at the explicit (emailed) request of Cyril Ramaphosa, who was the London firm’s main local owner. In 2014 he became Deputy President and in February 2018 replaced Zuma as president in a palace coup, 15 months before Zuma’s retirement date.

“A profound shortcoming of Imperialism in the 21st Century is Smith’s inability to grapple with the century’s global governance institutions, especially the United Nations Framework Convention on Climate Change (UNFCCC) and the G20 and G8 (until 2014, and now G7 without Putin’s Russia). Had he considered these, Smith might have found his way beyond the old-fashioned binary of oppressed and oppressor nations”

Bearing this in mind, Smith’s book makes only a half-hearted effort to scale up the useful apartheid metaphor to the present mode of imperialism. To scale up more convincingly requires, in my view, extension of Harvey’s conceptual apparatus to the level of subimperial power relations that are so well personified by Ramaphosa. Like the old Bantustan tribal warlords which the Pretoria regime promoted to power, there is now a global-scale buffer elite emerging which the imperial powers generally find useful in terms of legitimation, financial subsidisation and deputy-sheriff duty – even when anti-imperial rhetoric becomes an irritant, e.g. as under Zuma’s 2009-18 rule.

From local to global apartheid – adding the BRICS as subimperial ‘Bantustan elites’

Smith utilises the (very convincing) analysis of mining scholar-activist Andrew Higginbottom in which South African apartheid super-exploitation is considered in theoretical terms,[12] and from there he reminds us of powerful aspects of Samir Amin’s Africa-centric dependency theory and Ruy Mauro Marini’s Brazilian-based analysis. Both stress super-exploitation, but both do much more:

  • Amin has always been concerned with the overall geopolitical balance of forces at global scale – not just in terms of South-to-North value transfers – and he regularly takes special care to work out how neoliberal global governance has emerged to accompany Washington’s neoconservative military prowess.[13]
  • Marini focused on the elaboration of subimperial power wielded by states that are incorporated into the Western system as regional agents of imperialism, in which, Smith agrees, “dependent economies like Brazil seek to compensate for the drain of wealth to the imperialist centres by developing their own exploitative relationships with even more underdeveloped and peripheral neighbouring economies.”[14]

 

Smith is correct to remind of these writers’ (and others’) commitment to a “dependency thesis” based on “the reality of the extreme rates of exploitation in Bangladeshi garment factories, Chinese production lines, South African platinum mines, and Brazilian coffee farms.” But aside from the tokenistic nod to Marini – followed immediately by a confession, “not discussed here” – at only one point in the book does Smith consider the ownership and accumulation processes associated with these sites of subimperial surplus value extraction. Sadly though, it comes in a dismissive footnote after he attacks Ellen Wood for:

reducing imperialism to interstate rivalry between great powers before extinguishing it entirely: The “new imperialism [is] no longer … a relationship between imperial masters and colonial subjects but a complex interaction between more or less sovereign states.” Alex Callinicos has the same idea: “The global hierarchy of economic and political power that is a fundamental consequence of the uneven and combined development inherent in capitalist imperialism was not dissolved, but was rather complicated by the emergence of new centres of capital accumulation,” producing what he calls subimperialisms, a broad category that includes Vietnam, Greece, Turkey, India, Pakistan, Iran, Iraq, and South Africa.[15]

Yet Wood’s and Callinicos’ descriptions of power relations are perfectly reasonable, coming at a time of heightened multilateral neoliberal imperialism, as the Clinton-Bush-Obama neolib-neocon era gathered strength and assimilated its opponents. That assimilation process is critical. The main site for it is the global governance process in relation to a variety of political, economic, social and environmental problems. It would be impossible to talk about post-War imperialism without its multilateral economic grounding in the 1944 Bretton Woods System. Indeed, Smith is entirely conscious of the many complicated ways that the International Monetary Fund (IMF) and World Bank, World Trade Organisation (WTO) and United Nations agencies still today manage global imperial power relations to the benefit of major corporations.

“But the sleight of hand here is the ability of local elites – not just Western or BRICS corporations – to accumulate offshore in places like Mauritius (the African continent’s leading hot money centre). This part of the outflow is not a function of ‘imperialism’ but local greed and higher profits gained by an unpatriotic bourgeoisie who can hold funds offshore (even idle), instead of investing in African economies whose currencies are often rapidly declining in value

So why are such arrangements so difficult to conceptualise in the 21st century, at a time Xi Jinping earnestly promotes corporate globalisation against the Trump spectre of retreat from liberalised trade, global climate management and other uses of the U.S. State Department’s soft-power arsenal? A profound shortcoming of Imperialism in the 21st Century is Smith’s inability to grapple with the century’s global governance institutions, especially the United Nations Framework Convention on Climate Change (UNFCCC) and the G20 and G8 (until 2014, and now G7 without Putin’s Russia). Had he considered these, Smith might have found his way beyond the old-fashioned binary of oppressed and oppressor nations.

For example, the BRICS bloc’s role in imperialist multilateralism requires careful treatment, yet the bloc gets not one mention by Smith. For context, recall how in 2014 Barack Obama revealed to The Economist his agenda for incorporating China into imperialism’s pseudo-multilateral system.

The Economist: … that is the key issue, whether China ends up inside that [global governance] system or challenging it. That’s the really big issue of our times, I think.

Mr Obama: It is. And I think it’s important for the United States and Europe to continue to welcome China as a full partner in these international norms. It’s important for us to recognise that there are going to be times where there are tensions and conflicts. But I think those are manageable. And it’s my belief that as China shifts its economy away from simply being the low-cost manufacturer of the world to wanting to move up the value chain, then suddenly issues like protecting intellectual property become more relevant to their companies, not just to US companies.[16]

Though Smith ignores the BRICS as either a unit of analysis or marker of ascendant economic power, the bloc’s assimilation into imperialism has amplified unfair and inequitable world order processes, especially when pursuing global finance, trade and climate governance:

  • The IMF’s 2010-15 board restructuring left four of the BRICS much more powerful (e.g. China by 37 percent) but most African countries with a much lower voting share (e.g. Nigeria’s fell by 41 percent and South Africa’s by 21 percent). BRICS directors thrice (in 2011, 2015 and 2016) agreed with Western counterparts to endorse leadership by IMF managing director Christine Lagarde, even though she was prosecuted – and in 2016 declared guilty of negligence – in a €400 million criminal corruption case dating to her years as French finance minister. Moreover, the BRICS €84 billion Contingent Reserve Arrangement strengthens the IMF by compelling borrowers to first get an IMF loan before accessing 70 percent of their quota contributions during times of financial emergencies, while leaders of the BRICS New Development Bank – which has no civil society oversight – brag of co-financing and staff sharing arrangements with the World Bank.
  • The 2015 Nairobi World Trade Organisation summit essentially ended agricultural subsidies and hence food sovereignty thanks to crucial alliances made with Washington and Brussels negotiators, from Brasilia and New Delhi representatives, with China, South Africa and Russia compliant.
  • The 2015 UNFCCC Paris Climate Agreement left Africa without any ‘climate debt’ options against the West and BRICS, since legal claims for signatories’ liability are prohibited. As was prefigured by four of the BRICS’ role (with Obama) in the 2009 Copenhagen Accord, the Paris commitments to emissions cuts are too small and, in any case, non-binding. Military, maritime and air transport emissions are not covered, while carbon markets are endorsed. Thus, climate catastrophe is inevitable, mainly to the benefit of a residual profit stream for high-carbon industries in the rich and middle-income countries.

 

BRICS elites were vital allies of the West in each recent site of global malgovernance, serving power much the way South Africa’s Bantustan leaders did during apartheid. However, the short-term victories such as at the IMF, WTO and UNFCCC that today benefit their neoliberal, pollution-intensive corporations and parastatal agencies come at a difficult time, given deglobalisation processes: the relative decline in trade (even pre-Trump), foreign direct investment (FDI), and cross-border finance measured in relation to GDP. Likewise, the commodity super-cycle’s 2011 peak and then the crash of world minerals and petroleum prices in 2015 not only ended Africa Rising rhetoric. Just as importantly, since there are fewer profits to be had from high prices, many transnational corporations made up for this by increasing the volume of extraction so as to seek a greater mass not rate of profit.

BRICS corporates exemplify super-exploitation

BRICS firms became some of the most super-exploitative corporations engaged in accumulation not only on their home turf but also in Africa. To illustrate the extraction of surpluses, from 2000 to 2014 the value of Africa-BRICS trade rose from $28 billion to $377 billion, before falling in 2015 by 21 percent due to the commodity price crash.[17] The bilateral investment treaties that facilitate these transfers from Africa to the BRICS are just as notoriously one-sided as those with Western powers, according to the main scholar of this problem, Ana Garcia.[18]

“Unfortunately, both Smith and Harvey ignore another vital outflow of poorer countries’ wealth, in the form of non-renewable resources whose extractive value – termed “natural capital” – is not compensated for by reinvestment”

To take the example of Mozambique, Carlos Castel-Branco shows how its rulers aimed for “maximisation of inflows of foreign capital – FDI or commercial loans – without political conditionality” (much of which came from the BRICS as well as Portugal) in a super-exploitative context: “the reproduction of a labour system in which the workforce is remunerated at below its social cost of subsistence and families have to bear the responsibility for maintaining (especially feeding) the wage-earning workers by complementing their wages,” a common phenomenon across the continent.

While there may occasionally be an exception,[19] consider a few of the most egregious examples involving the BRICS:

  • Brazil’s major subimperial construction firm Odebrecht admitted paying bribes of $51 million to officials in Angola and Mozambique (but the actual amounts are likely to be much higher), and both Odebrecht and the world’s second-largest mining company, Rio-based Vale, have faced regular protests over mass displacement at construction projects and coal-mining operations in Tete, Mozambique, as has the Brazilian government (dating to Workers Party rule) over its ProSavana corporate-agriculture land-grab.[20]
  • Russia’s Rosatom nuclear reactor deals across Africa – in South Africa, Egypt, Ghana, Nigeria and Zambia – are increasingly dubious, especially after the only country with an existing nuclear reactor, South Africa, witnessed an intense debate due in part to widespread corruption at the implementing agency (Eskom). As a result of growing fiscal crisis, the Rosatom deal appears to have fallen away.
  • Indian companies in Africa have been especially exploitative, led by Vedanta chief executive Anil Agarwal – caught bragging to investors of having bought the continent’s largest copper mine for just $25 million after fibbing to Zambian president Levy Mwanawasa and each year returning $500 million to $1 billion in revenues. ArcelorMittal’s Lakshmi Mittal’s major African steel operation, South Africa’s former state-owned ISCOR, was accused by even Pretoria’s trade minister of milking the operations. Jindal’s super-exploitative arrangements in Mozambique and South Africa are regularly criticised. But the most egregious state and private sector mode of accumulation by Indian capital in Africa must be the combination of the Gupta brothers and (state-owned) Bank of Baroda, whose corruption of South Africa’s ruling political elite led first to massive looting of the public sector (and illicit financial flows via Bank of Baroda) and then the fall of Jacob Zuma and allied politicians, as well as other South African and international firms caught up in the Gupta web (including western corporations Bell Pottinger, KPMG, McKinsey and SAP).
  • Chinese firms – both state-owned and private – have been accused of major financial, human rights, labour and environmental abuses in Africa, perhaps most spectacularly in the case of Sam Pa whose operations included mining diamonds in eastern Zimbabwe. In 2016, even President Robert Mugabe alleged that of $15 billion in revenues, only $2 billion were accounted for, in mines mainly controlled by the local military and Chinese companies. (In late 2017, coup leader Constantino Chiwenga travelled to Beijing and received permission from the Chinese military to proceed with Mugabe’s overthrow). In South Africa, the China South Rail Corporation played a major role in the Gupta corruption ring, in relation to multi-billion dollar locomotive and ship-loading crane contracts with the parastatal railroad Transnet.
  • South African businesses have a record of looting the rest of the continent dating to Cecil Rhodes’ (19th century) British South Africa Company, the Oppenheimer mining empire, and more recently current President Ramaphosa’s pre-2012 chairing of Africa’s largest cell-phone company, MTN. The latter was exposed – along with two other companies he led, Lonmin and Shanduka – in 2014-17 for having offshore accounts in Bermuda and Mauritius used to illicitly remove funds from Africa. South Africa’s corporate elites regularly rank as the most corrupt on earth in the biannual PwC Economic Crimes survey, with one recent report showing that “eight out of ten senior managers commit economic crime.”[21]

 

Once profits are gained in this process, they are systematically removed through accounting techniques as misinvoicing and other tax dodges. Illicit financial flows that accompany FDI, Smith observes, are Net Resource Transfers (NRT) “from poor countries to imperialist countries in 2012 exceeded $3 trillion.” Specifically, the NRTs from Africa “to imperialist countries (or tax havens licensed by them) between 1980 to 2012 totalled $792 billion” (about $25 billion annually). But the sleight of hand here is the ability of local elites – not just Western or BRICS corporations – to accumulate offshore in places like Mauritius (the African continent’s leading hot money centre). This part of the outflow is not a function of ‘imperialism’ but local greed and higher profits gained by an unpatriotic bourgeoisie who can hold funds offshore (even idle), instead of investing in African economies whose currencies are often rapidly declining in value.[22] South Africa’s peaked at R6.3/$ in 2011 but fell to R17.9/$ in 2016 before recovering to the R12/$ range recently.

“That China and India are now the most important purchasers of Africa’s raw materials requires a rethinking of the ways super-exploitation of labour and environmental destruction are being amplified by capitalism’s widening out from the historic European, U.S. and Japanese core”

Naturally the City of London, Wall Street and Zurich are crucial sites for parking illicit flows. But so too are the BRICS. The United Nations Economic Commission for Africa estimated that $319 billion was transferred illicitly from Africa during the commodity super-cycle, from 2001 to 2010. The United States was the leading single destination at $50 billion; but China, India, and Russia were responsible for $59 billion (Brazil is not recorded in the top 17 and South Africa is not included).[23]

One of Smith’s rebuttals is that China is also a victim of illicit financial outflows, not just a villain. This is true, for capital flight is one reason China’s peak $4 trillion in foreign reserves in 2013 fell to $3.3 trillion by 2016, at a pace rising to a record $120 billion/month outflow by the end of 2015. Beijing’s imposition of tighter exchange controls in mid-2015 and early 2016 slowed the process. But with the ambitious One Belt, One Road (OBOR) Initiative to move westward, there will be many more projects in which surplus capital will identify spatial fixes outside China. Global Financial Integrity measured annual illicit financial flows from China at an average $140 billion from 2003-14. The point, however, is that these flows are not necessarily transfers from ‘China’ to the ‘imperialist’ countries, although Western firms no doubt transfer as much as possible to the home countries (usually through R&D royalties and licenses). The illicit flows measured by Global Financial Integrity are, in part, Chinese elites’ own strategies for accumulation.

Unfortunately, both Smith and Harvey ignore another vital outflow of poorer countries’ wealth, in the form of non-renewable resources whose extractive value – termed “natural capital” – is not compensated for by reinvestment. The volume of the losses to Africa here far outstrips the financial outflows, and a great deal goes to firms from the BRICS. This category includes the net value of extracting minerals, oil, gas and other non-renewable resources which, from 1995-2015 were measured by the World Bank in The Changing Wealth of Nations 2018 at more than $100 billion annually from Sub-Saharan Africa.[24] (This figure does not include North Africa nor the diamond and platinum accounts due to regional definitions for the former and measurement difficulties for the latter). The net outflow is above and beyond the increased Gross National Income and direct investment generated in the extraction process, and far outstrips all the other financial mechanisms through which Africa’s wealth is drained.

Indeed, in relation to depletion of non-renewable resources, one corrective to the Smith-Harvey debate comes from Amin’s latest book, Modern Imperialism, Monopoly Finance Capital, and Marx’s Law of Value, in which both super-exploitation and environmental appropriations are restated by Amin as the two core processes within world capitalism. As he argues,

capitalist accumulation is founded on the destruction of the bases of all wealth: human beings and their natural environment. It took a wait lasting a century and a half until our environmentalists rediscovered that reality, now become blindingly clear. It is true that historical Marxisms had largely passed an eraser over the analyses advanced by Marx on this subject and taken the point of view of the bourgeoisie – equated to an atemporal ‘rational’ point of view – in regard to the exploitation of natural resources.[25]

Capitalist rationality is to exploit without reference to the depletion of labour and resources over time. That China and India are now the most important purchasers of Africa’s raw materials requires a rethinking of the ways super-exploitation of labour and environmental destruction are being amplified by capitalism’s widening out from the historic European, U.S. and Japanese core. Altogether, these processes generate a form of subimperial accumulation that is implicit in Harvey’s rebuttal to Smith, when he recognises “complex spatial, interterritorial and place-specific forms of production, realisation and distribution.” The extraction of resources from Africa is undertaken by such firms, Harvey continues,

even as the final product finds its way to Europe or the United States. Chinese thirst for minerals and agricultural commodities (soy beans in particular) means that Chinese firms are also at the centre of an extractivism that is wrecking the landscape all around the world… A cursory look at land grabs all across Africa shows Chinese companies and wealth funds are way ahead of everyone else in their acquisitions. The two largest mineral companies operating in Zambia’s copper belt are Indian and Chinese.

Perhaps it is Smith’s old-fashioned binary North-South line of argument that prevents him mentioning – much less comprehending – the BRICS’ amplification of both super-exploitation and ecological crises, especially those relating to Africa, or the even larger net natural capital losses. Still, to his credit, Smith’s book acknowledges other crucial aspects of imperialism briefly discussed next: overaccumulation crisis, financialisation and remilitarisation. Still, without exploring these aspects of imperialist political economy and geopolitics in a way that incorporates subimperialism, the potential for Smith to engage Harvey’s overall concern about uneven geographical development is truncated.

Imperial-subimperial relations in an era of deglobalisation, over-accumulation, financialisation and remilitarisation

Crucially, the ebb and flow of capital across the world is not merely one of spatial extension, but also contraction – including the subimperial corporations that are active in Africa. From 2008-16, global trade/GDP declined from 61 percent to 58 percent. But China’s trade/GDP rate fell from 53 percent to 36 percent; India’s from 53 percent to 40 percent; South Africa’s from 73 percent to 60 percent; Russia’s from 53 percent to 45 percent; and Brazil’s from 28 percent to 25 percent. In the first two BRICS, the crash was a function of rebalancing through higher domestic consumption rather than export-led growth. Declining trade shares for South Africa, Russia and Brazil reflect peaking commodity prices just before the global financial meltdown that year, followed by subsequent recessions.

“The early-2018 gyrations in world stock markets, including losses of $4 trillion in a matter of days, signal that nothing was done after the 2008 meltdown to halt the bursting of financial bubbles”

Behind this is an overall crisis of over-accumulated capital, to a large extend due to excessive expansion of capitalist relations in China, beyond its workers’ and the world’s capacity to consume the output. A 2017 International Monetary Fund report confirmed China’s overcapacity levels had reached more than 30 percent in coal, non-ferrous metals, cement and chemicals by 2015 (in each, China is responsible for 45-60 percent of the world market). The subsequent shrinkage was the central reason for the massive crash of raw materials prices in 2015. The Guardian’s Larry Elliott summarised IMF concerns over “methods used to keep the economy expanding rapidly: an increase in government spending to fund infrastructure programmes and a willingness to allow state-controlled banks to lend more for speculative property developments.” Another technique – expansion of financial markets to mop up the capacity – also became dangerous, with Chinese banks’ high-risk ratio rising from 4 percent in 2010 to more than 12 percent since early 2015.

Financialisation is one symptom of global overproduction, in China and many other sites. Even though cross-border financial assets have fallen from 58 percent of world GDP in 2008 to 38 percent in 2016, the fast-rising domestic flows into high-risk (high-return) emerging markets and notwithstanding soaring overall indebtedness. In 2017, the Institute of International Finance announced that global debt reached $217 trillion (327 percent of world GDP), up from $86 trillion (246 percent of GDP) in 2002 and $149 billion (276 percent) in 2007. Since 2012, emerging markets led by China have been responsible for all the addition to net debt.

The next recession – which in mid-2017 HSBC, Citigroup and Morgan Stanley economists acknowledged is imminent due to vastly over-priced stock markets and unprecedented corporate indebtedness – will also confirm how optimists have become over-exposed locally, even as they lose appetite for global markets. The early-2018 gyrations in world stock markets, including losses of $4 trillion in a matter of days, signal that nothing was done after the 2008 meltdown to halt the bursting of financial bubbles.

“The rise of subimperial powers and their domination of hinterlands is taking place decidedly within and not against imperialism”

Moreover, deglobalisation is now fully underway, as it was in prior eras such as the 1880s and 1930s. For example, annual FDI was $1.56 trillion in 2011, fell to $1.23 trillion in 2014, rose to $1.75 trillion in 2015, and then dipped to $1.52 trillion in 2016, a decline as a share of GDP from 3.5 percent in 2008 to 1.7 percent in 2016. According to the UN Conference on Trade and Development, the attraction of Africa was waning from the $66 billion peak inflow in 2008 to a 2016 level of $59 billion.[26] Although a late-stage recovery appeared underway in early 2018, there is no hope of a decisive upturn on the horizon, despite hype surrounding China’s mega-infrastructure projects. One Belt One Road Initiative (OBOR) is touted for restoring some market demand for construction-related commodities. However, at a deeper structural level, China suffers from the apparent exhaustion of prior sources of profitability. The OBOR appears as a potential $1 trillion mirage, and one that may in the process even crack the BRICS, in the event the Kashmir OBOR routing continues to cause extreme alienation between Xi Jinping and Narendra Modi.

Another challenge to China comes from within: the ebbing of super-exploitative opportunities because of rising wages. Smith is incredulous: “It is true that ultra-low wages in southern nations are being used as a club against workers in imperialist nations, but it is preposterous to suggest that the North-South gulf in wages and living standards has been substantially eroded.” But global income studies and the “elephant curve” distribution by Branco Milanovic reveal a rise of these workers’ wages compared to the stagnant labour aristocracies of the North.[27]

In this context, the status of subimperialism is fluid, especially within the deeply-divided BRICS. This will be evident in July 2018 when the bloc meets in Johannesburg. The South African host is no longer the faux anti-imperialist Zuma, pushed out in a February 2018 coup by Ramaphosa in spite of begging to stay six more months so as to chair the BRICS, which he believes is his major legacy. For years Zuma complained that he was ‘poisoned’ by Western agents – working through his fourth wife in mid-2014 – due to his support for the BRICS (he was indeed poisoned and then recovered in Russia, but it is not yet certain why this occurred).[28] The Brazilian leader Michel Temer will soon be replaced as president, in a society with rampant elite self-delegitimation once the most popular candidate, Lula da Silva, was prevented from running in the October 2018 election. From India, Modi has openly embraced the Trump regime. The Chinese and Russian leaderships are remarkably stable: Xi’s lifetime premiership was awarded in early 2018, just prior to a Russian electoral landslide won by Putin (after his main opponent was prohibited from contesting) which appears to extend his 18th year in power for many more.

In this context, at least, Smith makes valid political points about the class character of Chinese expansionism:

Imperialism is inscribed in the DNA of capitalism, and if China has embarked on the capitalist road, then it has also embarked on the imperialist road… Chinese state capitalism (for want of a better term) shows signs of developing a strategic challenge to Japanese, European and North American dominance in key industries…Class-conscious workers must maintain independence from both sides in this looming conflict … [by] opposing Chinese capitalist expansion and the Chinese Communist Party’s attempts to forge an alliance with reactionary capitalist regimes in Myanmar, Pakistan, Sri Lanka and other countries.

The rise of subimperial powers and their domination of hinterlands is taking place decidedly within and not against imperialism, and not just in terms of those multilateral processes discussed above. The world is much more dangerous since the BRICS took their present form in 2010: in Syria and the Gulf States, Ukraine, the Korean Peninsula and the South China Sea. Even the Chinese-Indian border is rife with confrontations: mid-2017 fighting between the two giants at an obscure border post in Bhutan nearly derailing the BRICS annual meeting, and Modi’s boycott of the OBOR summit in May 2017 was due to Beijing’s mega-project trespassing on what New Delhi considers its own Kashmir land now held by Pakistan. For Xi it is the crucial turf linking western China to the Arabian Sea’s Gwadar port. There is no resolution in sight.

“even while rejecting imperialism’s geopolitics, it is the BRICS’ assimilation into neoliberal multilateral politics that stands out even more”

Acting as a geopolitical bloc, the BRICS’ public security interventions have occurred strictly within the context of the G20: first, to prevent Barack Obama from bombing Syria using pressure at the larger group’s September 2013 summit in St Petersburg, and then six months later in Amsterdam, supporting the Russian invasion (or ‘liberation’) of Crimea once the West made threats to expel Moscow from the G20 – just as the U.S. and Europe had thrown Putin out of the G8, now G7. However, when Trump came to last July’s G20 summit in Hamburg, the BRICS leaders were extremely polite notwithstanding widespread calls to introduce anti-U.S. sanctions (e.g. carbon taxes) due to Trump’s withdrawal from global climate commitments just a month earlier.

Fortunately for Southern Africa, remilitarisation is not a major factor in geopolitics today, in part because the apartheid regime gave way to a democracy in 1994 and ended destabilisation policies. More than two million people were killed by white regimes and their proxies in frontline anti-colonial and anti-apartheid struggles during the 1970s-80s.  More millions died in the eastern Democratic Republic of the Congo (DRC) during the early 2000s’ period of extreme resource extraction, a process that continues at low levels. The two recent armed interventions by Pretoria in the region were to join United Nations peacekeeping troops in the DRC (2013-present) and aid the beleaguered authoritarian regime in the Central African Republic (2006-13). Both are considered political-military failures insofar as violence continues in both sites. In the latter’s capital city Bangui, more than a dozen South African troops were killed in 2013 defending the Johannesburg firms pursuing lucrative contracts, just days before a BRICS “Gateway to Africa” summit in Durban.

Marini, Katz, Amin, Prashad and Chibber on subimperialism in the political conjuncture

With Smith and Harvey engaged in a fierce debate, what have other leading Southern contributors said of these matters? Claudio Katz simultaneously reminded in March 2018 of Marini’s best-known contribution to Marxist theory, namely the theory of subimperialism:

The simple centre-periphery polarity is less sufficient than in the past in understanding globalisation. Value chains have enhanced the relative weight of the semi-peripheral countries. Multinational firms no longer prioritise the occupation of national markets to take advantage of subsidies and customs barriers. They hierarchise another type of external investments. In certain cases they ensure the capture of natural resources determined by the geology and climate of each place. In other situations, they take advantage of the existence of large contingents of a cheap and disciplined work force. These two variants – appropriation of natural wealth and exploitation of employees – define the strategies of transnational corporations and the location of each economy in the global order… This relegated positioning is corroborated even in those economies that managed to forge their own multinational companies (India, Brazil, South Korea). They entered a field that was monopolised by the centre, without modifying their secondary status in globalised production.

Adds Samir Amin,

The ongoing offensive of United States/Europe/Japan collective imperialism against all the peoples of the South walks on two legs: the economic leg – globalised neoliberalism forced as the exclusive possible economic policy; and the political leg – continuous interventions including preemptive wars against those who reject imperialist interventions. In response, some countries of the South, such as the BRICS, at best walk on only one leg: they reject the geopolitics of imperialism but accept economic neoliberalism.

The militarist agenda of imperialism is now being somewhat more effectively balanced by the likes of China’s navy and Russia’s missile systems, both capable of engaging in debilitating strikes that would evade U.S. prevention. But even while rejecting imperialism’s geopolitics, it is the BRICS’ assimilation into neoliberal multilateral politics that stands out even more. And even though Vijay Prashad does not believe the BRICS can “counter the military dominance of the U.S. and NATO,” and indeed even though “Overwhelming military power translates into political power,” and even though “BRICS have few means, at this time, to challenge that power,” Prashad does agree that the BRICS have accepted economic neoliberalism:

The BRICS bloc – given the nature of its ruling classes (and particularly with the right now in ascendency in Brazil and in India) – has no ideological alternative to imperialism. The domestic policies adopted by the BRICS states can be described as neoliberal with southern characteristics – with a focus on sales of commodities, low wages to workers along with the recycled surplus turned over as credit to the North, even as the livelihood of their own citizens is jeopardised, and even as they have developed new markets in other, often more vulnerable, countries which were once part of the Third World bloc… In fact, the new institutions of the BRICS will be yoked to the IMF and the dollar – not willing to create a new platform for trade and development apart from the Northern order. Eagerness for Western markets continues to dominate the growth agenda of the BRICS states. The immense needs of their own populations do not drive their policy orientations.

Vivek Chibber also sees BRICS elites as assimilationist, in a recent South African interview: “the world is moving toward a more multi-centred political set of alignments. Economically, right now what we are seeing happening is the convergence of ruling classes in the global south and the global north into a common committee of global capitalist interests. That, it seems to me, is a new phenomenon.”

“by more clearly naming the BRICS threat as an amplifier of imperialism, not an alternative bloc, a critique of the subimperial location will pave the way for a better understanding by the world’s anti-capitalist forces, so that no further confusion need be spread about the potentials for allying with BRICS elites”

Such features of global capitalism go some way towards resolving the contradictions Smith and Harvey raise in their accounts. Most importantly, by more clearly naming the BRICS threat as an amplifier of imperialism, not an alternative bloc, a critique of the subimperial location will pave the way for a better understanding by the world’s anti-capitalist forces, so that no further confusion need be spread about the potentials for allying with BRICS elites (or for that matter, for world elites agreeing to a Kautsky-style global new deal). Although in many cases there is an ‘anti-corruption’ veneer, the democratic space for progressive politics is closing in most of the BRICS, alongside intensified economic exploitation and worsening environmental conditions.

The first weeks of 2018 witnessed the arrest of Brazil’s popular former President Lula da Silva as he appeared likely to win the October election; the failure of Putin to allow credible electoral competition; growing state-sponsored fascism within India; the ending of term limits in China at the same time as worsening surveillance and repression; and a popular regime change in South Africa that was immediately followed by intense budgetary austerity and an attack on workers’ right to strike.

In the last week of July 2018, when the BRICS bloc heads of state meet in Johannesburg’s Sandton business district, the counter-summit of radical activists and intellectuals gathering under the banner of ‘brics-from-below’ will take forward critiques of both local/regional super-exploitation, ecological threats, democratic deficits and the global process which creates BRICS subimperialism. Marxist theorists should consider how recognition of these processes can be done in both practice and through a broader theory of imperialism.

Patrick Bond is professor of political economy at the University of the Witwatersrand Wits School of Governance. He was formerly associated with the University of KwaZulu-Natal, where he directed the Centre for Civil Society from 2004-2016.

Notes

[1] John Smith, Imperialism in the 21st Century, New York: Monthly Review, 2016, p.104.

[2] See the full exchange on roape.net, John Smith, ‘David Harvey denies imperialism,’ roape.net, 10 January 2019, https://roape.net/2018/01/10/david-harvey-denies-imperialism/; David Harvey, ‘Realities on the ground,’ roape.net, 2 February 2018, https://roape.net/2018/02/05/realities-ground-david-harvey-replies-john-smith/; John Smith, ‘Imperialist realities vs. the myths of David Harvey,’ roape.net, 19 March 2018, https://roape.net/2018/03/19/imperialist-realities-vs-the-myths-of-david-harvey/ and a recent intervention by Adam Mayer, ‘Dissolving Empire: David Harvey, John Smith, and the Migrant’ roape.net, 10 April, 2018 https://roape.net/2018/04/10/dissolving-empire-david-harvey-john-smith-and-the-migrant/

[3] David Harvey, The New Imperialism, Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2003, pp.185-86.

[4] The initial stages of the debate are reviewed in Patrick Bond and Ana Garcia, BRICS: An anti-capitalist critique, London: Pluto Press, 2015; Patrick Bond, ‘BRICS banking and the debate over subimperialism.’ Third World Quarterly, 37, 4, 2016, pp.611-629, https://www.tandfonline.com/doi/full/10.1080/01436597.2015.1128816; and Matthias Luce, ‘Subimperialism, the highest stage of dependent capitalism,’ in P. Bond and A. Garcia (Eds), BRICS, Johannesburg: Jacana Media, pp. 27-44.

[5] Smith also mentions in passing but does not theoretically elaborate one crucial feature of apartheid: regional military hegemony, in which Pretoria served as local gendarme of Western imperialism during the Cold War, until the Cuban-Angolan victory at Cuito Cuanovale in 1988 which he correctly judges as a profound moment in the power-shift that enabled the deracialisation of South African subimperialism.

[6] It is a shortcoming that Smith – whose work is so impressive on labour super-exploitation – is so very weak in incorporating gender, environment and the political sphere into the core of his analysis (the way Harvey does in his 2017 book Marx, Capital and the Madness of Economic Reason). All these go hand in hand, and in that respect his critique of Harvey  could be strengthened, and their analyses at least partially reconciled.

[7] John Saul and Patrick Bond, South Africa: The present as history, Oxford: James Currey, 2014.

[8] Harold Wolpe (Ed), The Articulation of Modes of Production, London: Routledge & Kegan Paul, 1980.

[9] Samantha Ashman, Ben Fine and Susan Newman (2011) ‘The crisis in South Africa: Neoliberalism, financialisation and uneven and combined development,’ in L.Panitch, G.Albo and V.Chibber (Eds.), Socialist Register 2011: The crisis this time, London: Merlin Press, 2010; Patrick Bond and Ashwin Desai, ‘Explaining uneven and combined development in South Africa,’ In B.Dunn (Ed), Permanent Revolution: Results and Prospects 100 Years On, London: Pluto, 2006, pp.230-245.

[10] Annette Kuhn and AnnMarie Wolpe (Eds), Feminism and Materialism: Women and modes of production, London: Routledge and Paul, 1978.

[11] These were ethnic-based black ‘homelands’, e.g. KwaZulu, the Transkei, the Ciskei, Bophuthatswana, Venda and several others to which at peak about half the black population was forcibly removed. They are now reincorporated within South Africa’s borders.

[12] Andrew Higginbottom, ‘The system of accumulation in South Africa: Theories of imperialism and capital,’ Économies et Sociétés 45, 2, pp.261–88.

[13] Amongst his many books stressing South-to-North value transfer is his most recent, Samir Amin, Modern Imperialism, Monopoly Finance Capital, and Marx’s Law of Value, New York: Monthly Review, 2018.

[14] Ruy Mauro Marini, ‘Brazilian interdependence and imperialist integration,’ Monthly Review 17, 7, 1965, pp. 14–24.

[15] Smith, Imperialism, p.352.

[16] The Economist, ‘Barack Obama talks to The Economist,’ August 2014, https://www.economist.com/blogs/democracyinamerica/2014/08/barack-obama-talks-economist

[17] Garth le Pere, ‘Can Africa truly benefit from global economic governance?,’ Global Policy Journal, 10 March 2017, https://www.globalpolicyjournal.com/blog/10/03/2017/can-africa-truly-benefit-global-economic-governance

[18] Ana Garcia, ‘BRICS investment agreements in Africa,’ Studies in Political Economy, 98, 1, 2017, pp.24-47, https://www.tandfonline.com/doi/abs/10.1080/07078552.2017.1297018?journalCode=rsor20

[19] The best-known exception to this process of super-exploiting Africa was the acquisition – for tens of millions of HIV+ people – of generic AIDS medicines, initially from the Indian pharmaceutical company Cipla, assisted by Intellectual Property violations by the Brazilian government. But instead of being a coordinated semi-peripheral attack against the WTO, this was a case in which decommodification of a vital basic need was driven by South African activists in the Treatment Action Campaign (working against the Mbeki government’s opposition to supply of the medicines). The activists compelled the WTO to make medicines an exemption. Both the Indian and Brazilian governments subsequently became much more conservative in relation to protection of corporate property rights.

[20] BBC, ‘Odebrecht case: Politicians worldwide suspected in bribery scandal,’ 15 December 2017, http://www.bbc.com/news/world-latin-america-41109132; Judith Marshall, ‘Mozambican workers and communities in resistance,’ roape.net, 18 March 2016, https://roape.net/2016/03/18/mozambican-workers-and-communities-in-resistance-part-2/; Clemente Ntauazi, Resistance to ProSavana in Mozambique, Cape Town: Programme in Land and Agraraian Studies, http://www.plaas.org.za/plaas-publications/ADC-pres-mozambique

[21] Craig McCune and George Turner, ‘Ramaphosa and MTN’s offshore stash,’ Mail&Guardian, 9 October 2015, https://mg.co.za/article/2015-10-08-ramaphosa-and-mtns-offshore-stash; PwC, ‘Global economic crime and fraud survey,’ Johannesburg, 2018, https://www.pwc.co.za/en/publications/global-economic-crime-survey.html

[22] Perhaps most notorious in South Africa is Cyril Ramaphosa; see McCune and Turner, ‘Ramaphosa and MTN’s offshore stash’; Craig McKune and Andisiwe Makinana, ‘Cyril Ramaphosa’s Lonmin tax-dodge headache,’ Mail&Guardian, 19 September 2014, https://mg.co.za/article/2014-09-18-cyril-ramaphosas-lonmin-tax-dodge-headache; and Micah Reddy, Rob Rose, Will Fitzgibbon, ICIJ and amaBhungane, ‘Paradise papers: Ramaphosa’s Shanduka deal flop,’ Mail&Guardian, 9 November 2017, http://amabhungane.co.za/article/2017-11-09-paradise-papers-ramaphosas-shanduka-deal-flop

[23] Simon Mevel, Siope Ofa, and Stephen Karingi, ‘Quantifying Illicit Financial Flows from Africa Through Trade Mis-Pricing and Assessing Their Incidence on African Economies,’ United Nations Economic Commission for Africa (UNECA) presentation to the African Economic Conference, Johannesburg, 28–30 October 2013, http://www.afdb.org/en/aec/papers/paper/quantifying-illicit-financial-flows-from-africa-through-trade-mis-pricing-and-assessing-their-incidence-on-african-economies-945

[24] Patrick Bond, ‘Economic narratives for resisting unequal ecological exchange caused by extractive industries in Africa,’ forthcoming in Review of Political Economy, July 2018.

[25] Amin, Modern Imperialism, p.86.

[26] United Nations Conference on Trade and Development, World Investment Report 2017, Geneva, 2017, http://unctad.org/en/PublicationsLibrary/wir2017_en.pdf

[27] Branco Milanovic, Global Inequality: A new approach for the age of globalisation, Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 2015. To be sure, Milanovic has been criticised by C.P. Chandrasekhar and Jayati Ghosh.

See C.P. Chandrasekhar and Jayati Ghosh, ‘How unequal are world incomes?,’ Network Ideas, March 2018, http://www.networkideas.org/featured-articles/2018/03/how-unequal-are-world-incomes/

[28] Gayton McKenzie, Kill Zuma By Any Means Necessary, Johannesburg, ZAR Empire, 2017.

Food Sovereignty and the Environment: an interview with Habib Ayeb

For roape.net Max Ajl interviews radical geographer and activist Habib Ayeb. Habib Ayeb is a founder member of the NGO  Observatory of Food Sovereignty and Environment (OSAE)  and  Max Ajl is a sociologist, activist and an editor at Jadaliyya and Viewpoint. The interview was conducted on March 4, 2018, in Tunis, Tunisia.

Max:  Habib, you have made many films and written at length about food sovereignty in Tunisia and in Egypt. Can you start by telling us how you see the conversation around food sovereignty in this part of the world?

Habib: In recent years, the issue of food sovereignty has begun to appear in academic and non-academic debates, and in research as well – although more tentatively – in all the countries of the region. That said, the issue of food and thus agriculture has always been important, both in academic research and public debate, as well as the academy, political institutions, and elsewhere. During the 1970s and 1980s, in Tunisia and throughout what was called the Third World, we spoke mainly of food self-sufficiency. This was, in a way, and at that time, a watchword of the left – a left that was modernist, developmentalist and statist.

If I’m not mistaken, I believe that the concept of food self-sufficiency dates from the late 1940s with the wave of decolonization, which began after the Second World War, and probably also dates to the great famines which claimed millions of lives in India and other areas of the South. Furthermore, many states, particularly those governed by the state-socialist regimes that had acquired political independence during the 1950s and 1960s, had initiated Green Revolution policies.  These had the aim of achieving food self-sufficiency to strengthen political independence, in a Cold War context wherein food was already used as a weapon and a means of pressure in the context of the confrontation between the USSR and the Western bloc. It is in this context that the experiences of agrarian reforms and agricultural co-operatives in Tunisia (from 1962), in Egypt (from 1953) and in many other countries had proliferated. But almost all of these experiments ended in failure or were aborted by liberal counter-reforms, which were adopted everywhere beginning in the 1980s amidst the victory of liberalism, the USSR’s disappearance, and the development of a global food regime, and its corollary: the global market for agricultural products and particularly cereals.

It is at this point that the concept of food security, based on the idea of comparative advantage began to gradually dominate. It would appear for the first time in the official Tunisian texts in the sixth Five Year Plan of the early 1980s, in which the formula of food self-sufficiency would give way to that of food security. From then on, agricultural policies would favour agricultural export products with a high added value, whose revenues would then underwrite the import of basic food products.

Paradoxically, agricultural issues, food issues, and rural issues writ large would gradually disappear from academic agendas. There was a sharp reduction in funding for research on the rural world, and instead it went first, to the urban research profile, but also to examine civil society and political organizations. It was not until 2007/2008 and the great food crisis that agricultural and food issues, and furthermore the peasant question with its sociological dimension, would reappear in public debates focused on these matters. It was during the same period that the concept of food sovereignty, proposed by Via Campesina in 1996, would appear in Arab countries and to a much lesser extent in research. Even today, many use the food sovereignty frame to talk about food security, even while the two concepts are radically opposed, even incompatible.

“the urban left subjugated by modernity have developed a sort of disregard for the peasantry, which they consider as a brake and an obstacle to development. We know that this is not new – already Marx, in his day, had little regard for the peasant world”

In Egypt, I participated in many discussions on issues of food security and sovereignty. We were, with some other friends and colleagues, including the anthropologist Reem Saad, responsible for helping to initiate the first discussions around the specific theme of food sovereignty. We organized workshops, research seminars, and other activities, too, more oriented towards civil society and the media. We also organized two seminars in Damascus, in Syria, in 2008 and some others in Tunisia between 2007 and 2011. Concerning Syria, it should be noted that it is one of the very few countries in the South that did not suffer from the food crisis of 2007 and 2008, because the Syrian state has always thought, amidst a particularly hostile and explosive geopolitical context, that the food issue was part of its national defense strategy. Thus, agricultural policies before 2011 (and even after, with the difficulties that we can imagine) always aimed at a level of cereal production sufficient to cover basic needs. The lesson of the embargo imposed on Saddam Hussein’s Iraq after the war of Kuwait was well-learned by Damascus.

From 2011 on, spaces and opportunities for debate would greatly expand, touching upon a multitude of topics and diverse themes – even if the rural world, and more specifically, agricultural and food topics, remain relatively marginalized, or often forgotten. Nevertheless, the issue of food sovereignty has seen some fairly significant actions and initiatives. In Egypt, the principle of food sovereignty was enshrined in the first post-Mubarak constitution (2012). In Beirut, there was an attempt to form an Arab Network for Food Sovereignty. In Gaza, food sovereignty is a strong demand to which the Israeli embargo gives shape and consistency. And then in North Africa, public discussions and various activities around food sovereignty began in 2012-2013. It must be noted that throughout the region, there is still a kind of confusion around concepts, slogans, and even demands and claims. If the notion of food sovereignty begins to spread there is then a risk of trivialization and misuse of the expression, which may occur – it has happened with other concepts, including that of sustainable development which has been totally emptied of any real meaning.

One puzzle I have come across while doing my research on food sovereignty – and I mean the narrow meaning, or the specific use of the term, as it has become linked to Via Campesina – is that there are very few regional social movements that are tied to Via Campesina. There is one in Morocco, there is one in Tunisia. And there is the Union of Agricultural Work Committees, which is the regional coordinator, and has been a part of Via Campesina, I think since 2003, since the second Intifada. This is the part of the world where Via Campesina has entered least – or has the fewest links. Why do you think this might be the case?

It is difficult to explain. Without being categorical, it seems to me that this is largely due to the paradoxical absence of direct relations between the city and the countryside which go beyond the marketing of agricultural products, an exchange which does not necessarily bring the two areas into continuous contact. Between the countryside, especially the peasants and agricultural workers who live and/or work there, and the city, including the ordinary inhabitants, the intellectuals, the activists and the trade unionists’ communication and exchanges are relatively limited. The former does not necessarily have access to the city, whose codes they do not know, and the latter do not understand the countryside, and stigmatize its inhabitants. In the city, the word fellah (peasant) has become an insult.

When the Egyptian government carried out its agrarian counter-reform in 1992 by adopting the so-called 96/92 law which completely liberalized the land market, and which resulted in a massive rise in the price of agricultural land, overnight about a million peasant families, former tenants, found themselves without land to work and therefore without income. In response to an attempt at resistance, the government reacted with great brutality from its police, leaving about 150 dead, not counting the dozens of wounded and imprisoned. Astonishingly, these events in the Egyptian campaign did not provoke any rush of solidarity from urban political and intellectual elites, with the exception of a few activists and NGOs, already more or less engaged in the peasant milieu, who tried to organize some demonstrations and support activities. Today, I tend to think that these isolated and repressed peasant movements of the mid-1990s were the first fruits of the revolutionary processes that ended the Mubarak regime in early 2011.

Few people in the area know about Via Campesina. Even amongst those people who, by a kind of mimicry, use the expression food sovereignty, know nothing about Via Campesina and the history of this concept. In itself, this is a real political problem that further aggravates the invisibility of rural and peasant populations and widens the rift between the city and the countryside, thereby limiting relations to exchanges of products and services through closed circuits.

I wonder if some of the separation you talk about between the city and the countryside is also because, speaking generally here, with exceptions such as Yemen, it’s been a very modernizing left. Whereas in Asia you had Maoism, and in Latin America you had liberation theology, Christian-based communities, and you had all these ideologies and forms of organizing that were much more centered on the world and the culture of the countryside. Whereas in North Africa it’s generally been, or rather there has been an embrace of a modern/traditional dichotomy.

Yes, sure. Compared to North Africa specifically, I think not only does the city not know the countryside, but additionally, the urban lefts subjugated by modernity have developed a sort of disregard for the peasantry, which they consider as a brake and an obstacle to development. We know that this is not new. Already Marx, in his day, had little regard for the peasant world which, surprisingly, he had never tried to understand.

Generally, the Maghreb left, excepting a few generally unorganized intellectuals, reject the idea of ​​rural social classes. I have the impression that this rejection is more a reflection of the contempt towards the peasantry than the output of a serious work of reflection and conceptualization. But this is an issue that deserves a real dispassionate debate.

“It is the privilege of social scientists who choose to be physically and intellectually close to their objects of research and their interlocutors in the field. That’s what has always interested me”

Let’s take the example of the considerable difference between the history as it has been constructed and told – storytelling – of Mohamed Bouazizi and the real story, which is much more interesting, because it is linked to the stories of many peasants in Sidi Bouzid, and their sense of being robbed, dispossessed, marginalized and impoverished [Mohammed Bouazizi was the Tunisian street vendor whose immolation in Sidi Bouzid, a city in Tunisia’s Center-West, has often been heralded as the spark that lit the Arab Spring].We know today that Mohamed Bouazizi, whom almost nobody knew outside his immediate circles, was not an unemployed graduate as had been claimed, and that he had not been slapped by the policewoman. Yet this false story had been disseminated and used to mobilize as much as possible against the Ben Ali regime. We understand the reasons and the political objectives of this invented history and we can even accede to such a use. For in any case, no one can deny its formidable effectiveness since it allowed Tunisians to bring down a true dictatorship, while the real story probably could not have done so.

However, I continue to think that despite its undeniable effectiveness and its historical importance, Bouazizi’s constructed history has dispossessed the peasants of Sidi Bouzid and the rest of the country of their stories of struggles and resistance, stories with which the real history of Bouazizi fits perfectly. The popular understanding of the Tunisian revolution stems from a false history, and constitutes in fact a denial of truth, and a marked contempt, albeit unconscious, for peasants, their functions, their roles and finally their resistance. It is in fact a blatant expression of the opposition of the urban middle class and in particular the Tunisian left to any idea of ​​rural social classes. The debate on rural social classes, opened a good thirty years ago, deserves to be revived and enriched. I have already published on the relationship between the peasants of Sidi Bouzid, Bouazizi and the revolution.

I also wonder if somehow there is a link between the fact that in Tunisia you have actually an incredibly rich tradition of Marxist intellectuals in the academy that wrote about the countryside. So, like Hafedh Sethom, Slaheddine el-Amami, to some extent Azzam Mahjoub, Habib Attia, who all, of course, wrote under the dictatorships. Some of them helped with the planning process in the 1970s, but they could not possibly be linked to any form of left that was actually organizing otherwise they would lose their job and livelihood. So, this made it harder to have a convergence between an activist left and the academic left especially on this question of the countryside.

Yeah definitely, at least in Tunisia. I don’t know about Morocco or Algeria. Have you encountered attempts to converge between the Marxist researchers of the time, such as the ones you just mentioned, and the left-wing activists of the time? I do not know any. I must admit that it would have been extremely dangerous for anyone at the time of Bourguiba or Ben Ali, which must be a part of the explanation for the absence of convergences. One could imagine a birth of peasant or pro-peasant unions. But knowing a little about the political context of postcolonial Tunisia, characterized by a dictatorship that has closed all political spaces and the suffocating hegemony of organizations, such as UTAP (Tunisian Union of Agriculture and Fishery) and the UGTT (Tunisian General Labour Union), related through a system of alliances to the existing political power structure and its single party, it is very difficult to imagine political initiatives to create independent organizations.

In fact, it would be unfair to reproach Marxist scholars under dictatorship for not engaging politically. They did a great deal of observation, documentation and analysis in an extremely difficult context. They have left us with materials that have proven to be rich and indispensable for understanding current agricultural and food policies and the evolution of these policies during the last decades. Anyone who does not know the work of Amami, Sethom, or others cannot understand current agricultural issues and their ecological, economic, social and political dimensions. Those who ignore these valuable materials produced and accumulated during this relatively long period cannot understand what happened between December 17, 2010 and January 14, 2011. It is extremely important to recall these facts especially since very few contemporary academics could present a record as rich and politically useful as their predecessors.

Even when they proposed it, it was often just a proposal – they might write in their work that a specific programme ‘rests on the activity of the peasants’ but this was a dead letter. Imagine someone going to the countryside and trying to organize the peasants! For all we know there were such attempts, but we don’t know what happened to the people who tried to do these things. Even to take Brazil which is supposedly a democracy it’s known that the MST (Brazilian Landless Workers’ Movement) militants are assassinated all the time by the landowners.

And it’s still the case in many other countries.

And this has been in the post-democratic period in Brazil. So, imagine in Tunisia …

Something like this also happened in Egypt, where the pro-peasant activist Salah Hussein – who was the husband of Shahenda Maklad, also a great pro-peasant activist who died in June 2016 -was murdered in 1966 in Kamshish, his village, which was located in the Nile Delta. He was killed because with Shahenda and the small peasants he had won a political battle against the big landowners of the Delta who were trying to avoid the agrarian reform initiated in the early 1950s by Nasser.

In Tunisia Ahmed Ben Salah would never have allowed anyone to resist his policies. He would have used every means to prevent any resistance. This is the main explanation for the absence of trade unions and farmers’ organizations before 2011 and even since the end of the dictatorship. This also explains why ‘committed’ researchers did not get involved directly on the ground with the farmers.

If we can shift gears a little bit. How do you see your cultural work, your films contributing to the Tunisian debate or collective discourse around food sovereignty? How do you see the contributions of all the films? Because you make a lot of films Green Mirage, Fellahin, Gabes Labes, and most recently Couscous which was shown at the ROAPE workshop in Accra in 2017.

When I first began making films, I did not plan to work on food sovereignty, it came much later. I had in mind work on questions of access to resources – land rights, water rights, environmental rights.

The first film, On the Banks of the Nile: Sharing Water was made in 2003, at a time when, after 15 or 20 years of work on water, I realized that the real problem was not water but farmers and other water-users access to water resources. It was conditions of access that could, at least partially, explain complex social and political situations. Access to water is a precondition for biological life. But it is also social and therefore political.

So, as I often say, ‘ came out of the water to see the peasants, to understand the different mechanisms and questions they face, including those related to water access. The main objective was to contribute to the ongoing discussion, and to bear witness to the peasants’ difficulties, as well as their social conditions.

“Documentary films seemed to me an excellent tool of communication and interchange with a public which is very broad compared to academia. Watching a documentary takes an incomparably shorter time than reading a book, or even a scholarly article”

Of course, all this was not by chance. I did not find myself accidentally lost along Egypt’s Nile Valley. I have done nothing, so to speak, by chance, during my career. My research activities have always focused on subjects which I considered, at the moment of my engagement, as causes to be defended. It’s my way of engaging. I am not in any political party or movement. I am somewhere in the radical left and that suffices for me as an affiliation.

As far as film-making was concerned, I had felt the need to get out of my role as a researcher publishing for a relatively limited number of more or less specialized publications and readers, and to address those and those who are not necessarily in academia or the university environment. Documentary films seemed to me an excellent tool of communication and interchange with a public which was very broad compared to academia. Watching a documentary takes an incomparably shorter time than reading a book, or even a scholarly article.

I take advantage of what I believe I know to provoke debate. Water was my specialty. Rural issues too. This knowledge and experience allowed me to have special and close relations with the agricultural world, including peasants and all manner of farmers, and therefore with their living spaces and/or work. These relationships have allowed me to observe the rural space, the activities which go on there, their living and working conditions, the changes underway, as well as ways of organizing rural and agricultural populations. It is, moreover, the privilege of social scientists who choose to be physically and intellectually close to their objects of research and their interlocutors in the field. That’s what has always interested me. In any case that’s what inspired me in my film Green Mirages (Mirages Verts) that I made in 2012 with my friend, the Egyptian director Nadia Kamel. Basically, I try to do what I can do, using available and accessible means and by mobilizing the 3 or 4 things that I think I know and understand.

Habib Ayeb speaks to roape.net at the ROAPE/TWN workshop on structural transformation in Africa (Accra, 13-14 November 2017)

I tried to film in Tunisia in 2007 but I quickly realized that the camera represented for the Ben Ali regime a weapon of mass destruction and, in a sense, I agree with this idea. It’s terrible what you can do with a camera. In any case, I quickly gave up the idea and I did not take out my camera again until much later for Green Mirages which I shot almost entirely in my village, Demmer, in the country’s southeast, where there is no visible police presence.

You were a little protected.

I have a kind of protection that comes from my family’s history, and a bit from my current status as an academic.  People have their own perceptions. They do not necessarily see you as you are in reality, but as they want to see you.

“The film only lasts 45 minutes, but the whole session lasted more than 4 hours. It is there that I understood that engaged films always find their public, and systematically incite debate. That’s exactly what I’m looking for”

In any case, we were able to make the film without too much difficulty. The film criticizes dominant development models, by showing how they are complicit in the destruction and disappearance of an extremely rich local ensemble of know-how, of techniques and technologies, developed over time, through generation after generation, by local populations to adapt to local conditions and/or protect themselves against the various hazards of natural or non-natural origins, had a success beyond what we could imagine. Demmer is a rocky village perched above the arid mountains of the southeast of the country.  It is an open-air museum exhibiting hydraulic skills composed of both physical management of the water through hydraulic engineering (harvest, storage, dikes, earthworks …) and social water management, composed of an extremely rich and complex ensemble of mechanisms for conflict resolution between resource users. Thanks to these riches, Demmer has been able to withstand for centuries the worst conditions, whether permanent or contingent, but could not resist the modern models of development that dispossess people of their last tools of defense and survival.

Okay so you were able to show it in Tunis, as well.

Yes, especially in protected areas like universities. I remember a screening at the University in Tunis in front of dozens of viewers, both teachers and students. The ensuing discussion was one of the richest and most rewarding that I have had since I started making documentaries. The film only lasts 45 minutes, but the whole session lasted more than 4 hours. It is there that I understood that engaged films always find their publics, and systematically incite debate. That’s exactly what I’m looking for.

Before we talk a little bit about Gabès Labess, can you give a little more sense of what the reaction Green Mirages  was like from the students?

The questions and comments of the students who were present at the screening that I was just talking about went beyond the bounds of a strictly academic context. They intervened as citizens who ask questions of substance concerning the choice of agricultural policies, the location of hydraulics, and the immediate or long-term consequences of these policies on the environment. Some commented on the film in technical and artistic terms. Some questions related to my career, my choices and my commitments. An academic who makes movies was something relatively unusual for them and intrigued them. But the most important questions and comments were about development models and their actual or potential consequences. Some questioned me on the substance of my speech and asked me the question that I often heard then and I still hear today, ‘… But sir, you want us to live like our grandparents?’ In fact, I really like this question because it opposes, or juxtaposes, a certain representation of what is modern and what is old or traditional and forces us to re-pose the recurring question: What is modernity?

“Why this race? Running forever behind development? Why don’t we think more about the very notion of developing? For whom, for what? For growth rates? What is development? What does it mean to develop a country by increasing the number of poor people?”

During the same discussion, there was another recurring question: ‘How to develop the country so as to resist global competition, without technological modernization?’ I answered with a series of questions, as I often do: ‘Why this race? Running forever behind development? Why don’t we think more about the very notion of developing? For whom, for what? For growth rates? What is development? What does it mean to develop a country by increasing the number of poor people?’ It is interesting to ask these questions, because people had not considered them.

I told them that Sidi Bouzid was the region that received the most investment between 1990 and 2011. The leading region. It is a region that had an extensive semi-pastoral farming system, and it became in less than 30 years the premier agricultural region of the country. At the same time Sidi Bouzid had been a ’moderately poor’ region, in a sense, and I put that in quotation marks, and it is now the fourth poorest region in the country. This is the development which people desire. Regueb, which is part of Sidi Bouzid, looks like California. Regueb is a perfect technical success, an exemplar of the Californian model. The problem is that the local population does not benefit. These are people from Sfax and the Sahel who get rich in Sidi Bouzid, not the people of Sidi Bouzid. Hence the link with the story of Mohamed Bouazizi.

Moving onto Egypt there was a larger opening for freedom of expression in Egypt, relative to Tunisia. For example, I was shocked when I heard in Egypt there was a Center for Socialist Studies.

I worked there for a few years. I did interviews in the Egyptian media, including on TV, where I spoke exactly as I speak to you now and in Egyptian, and on national channels. I did an interview about an hour long, about my book Water in the Middle East (published in Arabic in Egypt). In Tunisia it would have been just impossible!

But I think that if I did something in all my militant and professional life, which had a totally unexpected effect, it was my documentary Gabes Labess, made in 2014. It’s a bit crazy. Something has happened, which is largely related more to the new political context than to the film itself. I really like this movie. For once, for the first time, there was a film addressing the issue of the environment by placing that issue alongside the dominant development models. I think that Gabes Labess favoured forms of mobilization that did not exist before.

And you showed Gabès Labess in Gabès many times?

Yes, the first screening was in Gabès. In the Cultural Center of Chenini. The Oasis of Chenini, which is a part of Gabes.  The first screening was just incredible. I was really very surprised. Over 200 people came. That means there were people waiting, not for my film itself, exactly, because nobody knew me, but they wanted something about the environment. There was demand on the environment, on the environmental issue.

The screening took place as part of a small festival, ‘Lights and Color of the Oasis’ which is still held in February. It is useful for people to know that I received death threats just before this first screening. I imagine it came from people in the factories – bosses or perhaps people who were naturally afraid for their livelihoods. However, I think that it must have been bosses and businessmen; that seems to me more likely.

It seems that since 2014 people are really beginning to reject the type of environmentally damaging development model, even though there isn’t yet an articulated alternative.

Now people are really debating the question of development models. Sometimes the debate is very rich, and sometimes it’s more of a provocation or challenge. Today, the debate is unquestionably touching on fundamental questions: ’What do we do with water?’, ‘What do we do with the earth?’, ‘What do we do with our natural resources?’, ‘What do we do with oil?’, ‘What do we do with phosphate?’…The demonstrations in El Kamour, the strikes around the phosphate in Kasserine, Redeyef and so forth.  The movements around the environment in Gabès, Sfax and Kerkennah. Closing chemical plants, shutting down the road, stopping the oil pipeline – these are actions. But what is behind them? I think there we find the debate on the development model. When the people of El Kamour say ‘We want our share of oil revenues’, they are speaking of development models.

I’ve been in Tunis while you have been distributing and showing Couscous, which touches on food sovereignty. Even if it does not explicitly put forth a different development model, it nevertheless centers a different form of development as something people need to look at. Do you think this is part of why people are so receptive?

Yes, that explains at least part of the good reception of  Couscous. The film does not directly address the issue of development models, but it says that there is something that does not work in the current system. The peasants who appear in the film say so clearly, and they go further by explaining the causes of the various difficulties they encounter. By giving the floor to female and male peasants who express themselves with great clarity and precision and exhibit a real political awareness of the complex mechanisms which explain their difficulties, the film speaks directly to people, beyond their educations, opinions, social backgrounds and trades. This is why they are very receptive both to the film and to the central idea it conveys, the idea of food sovereignty as a political alternative and as a fundamental requirement.

The advantage for the movie Couscous has been that the debate had already been opened. The movie came as an additional document to enrich the debate and cast upon it a specific kind of light. There were already people sitting around the table, discussing, and I brought them something new. What surprised me most has been the overall positive reaction to the film. The debate is constantly revived, as it expands, as new people of diverse social origins engage for the first time. Recently, a journalist I interviewed said, ‘What, for you, is a fellah? How is it useful to society?’ These two questions can be considered extremely simple, or even simplistic. Their significance stems from the fact that many people thought they had already been bypassed, considering farmers part of the past, and that their contemporary usefulness is almost nil. The film says the opposite and it’s always productive to shake up frozen ideas.

Politically, people have started to know me since 2014. They know that I make movies. Some subscribe to my blog, which has about four thousand subscribers, of whom more than 90 percent are probably Tunisian. So, when I announce a new movie, it’s known pretty quickly. Of course, my name attracts people, and I am very happy. But I also think that those who already knew my other films came to see Couscous with a fairly positive preconception. That, in part, explains why the movie Couscous received a much wider reception than the other films.

The film is not yet available online. People have seen it in theaters during the Carthage Film Days: three screenings, three different rooms, three full rooms. One must note that Tunis’s theaters average around 400 seats. During that event there was also radio, TV, the press, and of course social networks and electronic newspapers which, in fact, offered coverage to Couscous, whereas the other films had not benefited from such visibility. It makes a fundamental difference.

Obviously, the movie Couscous did not initiate the debates on food sovereignty. There have already been many other events and actions around this broad issue whether they have occurred under the concept of food sovereignty or not. But it seems to me that the film has given some visibility and some new impetus to these discussions. It’s the magic of cinema that escapes the director completely.

I know you’ve shown the film to not just general audience but also agricultural schools in certain places. Can you talk a little bit about the Q&A sessions, the reception to the film both in general but also especially how the agricultural and agronomy students have reacted to it?

It is exciting to discuss food sovereignty and agricultural policies with agronomy students. Some students say to me, ‘But, sir, how would we be useful, with the training we have, if the current model is not good?’ These are young people who are in the process of obtaining their engineering degrees and who have a fairly solid technical background. They are generally even more challenged when I provoke them deliberately by suggesting that a large portion of the problems we are debating is due to the work of the experts who design the policies which are adopted, and who know nothing outside their specialties.

If you ask experts what to do to solve the problem of lack of water somewhere, they are likely to answer that it is necessary to build a dam or dig a borehole. A technical answer to a political problem. This is what students learn in Tunisian agricultural schools. Therefore, their reactions to my provocation are related to their current and future social status and their schooling. But as I went through these schools, too, from high school to engineering school, I could talk to agronomy students, using their languages ​​and their tools.

“I say to these future technicians that the problem comes from our training and that we must question not only our individual training, but the whole system that trains future decision-makers. I tell them that I had to re-educate myself”

So, to answer their questions about their future and their roles after school, when they have the engineering degree in their pocket, I tell them a bit about my state of mind at the end of my studies, where they are today. I tell them that if, when I left engineering school, I was given the keys to the Ministry of Agriculture, I would have erased everything old to create something beautiful, modern, impressive with big modern machinery, chemical fertilizers, pesticides. I would have installed a new California on Tunisian soil. It is this dream of technical modernity that I learned at school without any perspective and without any analytical ability to think otherwise. In these schools, the social sciences were totally absent, and this is obviously not a coincidence. The function of these schools in Tunisia is to train technicians, not citizens. Unfortunately, this model is becoming widespread and affecting the entire education system, including in many countries of the North with specializations increasingly narrow and closed to any other knowledge. So, I say to these future technicians that the problem comes from our training and that we must question not only our individual training, but the whole system that trains future decision-makers. I tell them that I had to re-educate myself to free myself from the training that the engineering school had imposed on me.

Do you discuss agro-ecology with them?

Yes of course. When I went to these schools – and I have done three so far – I initially went with the idea of ​​not addressing technical issues because they know more than me and that would prevent productive discussion. I just wanted to tell them this: ‘Listen! You have been deprived of tools for reflection, you have been deprived of social sciences, political science, history, debates on the model of development, debates on liberalism, and basic knowledge about the major currents of thoughts: What is capitalism? What is Marxism? What is right? …’ This is knowledge that is needed in order to have the foundation to better analyze and appreciate the situations that they will inevitably encounter in their professional life and, if necessary, bring the right answers. My challenge was to tell them that we cannot answer the big questions and the big current challenges concerning development and ecological problems by having a strictly technical approach and without calling on other knowledges and especially the social sciences.

Have any of these students, that you know of, returned to the debates from the 1980s? I know the Arab world in general and Tunisia especially had an exceptionally rich debate about alternative technologies, particularly in the agricultural sector, which were less energy intense and less polluting – has this happened, or perhaps it is something that will develop in the future?

These debates, which you mention, date from the 1970s and 1980s at a time when rural studies were still relatively important and where the discussion focused on the choices between the development of agriculture or the orientation towards what was called industrializing industry, the economic liberalization which occurred from the mid-1980s contributed to the extinction of these debates. As a result, rural research gradually gave way to urban research. The debate simply changed. But I have seen the return of these debates since the food crisis of 2007-2008.

I recently received a letter from a young student who is about to finish her studies as an agricultural engineer at a Tunisian school. She wants to undertake a doctoral thesis on ‘the evolution of agricultural technologies and their perceptions by small Tunisian farmers.’ Roughly, she is posing the question of whether and how small Tunisian farmers adapt to new agricultural technologies and to what extent they adopt them. This specific question was asked by another student during the debate we had in their school. I remember answering that a small farmer can die if – to replace a plow he has just broken – he does not find the right plow suited to his terrain and his own material and social conditions. He can disappear simply because without the good plow, he cannot work his land. I added that the issue of adaptability and adaptation is a complex issue that does not just answer financial or technical criteria.

Another question that often comes up, and not only in agronomy schools, is ’Can small farmers feed humanity?’ This is a very serious question that cannot be answered with a simple ‘Yes.’ The world’s population has reached seven to eight billion people. Can small farmers feed them?

Obviously my answer is yes. But for that the peasants must be able to control the market and production. In other words, it will be necessary to leave the current dominant model. It will be necessary to change everything that now exists and move to a peasant agricultural model whose objective is to feed humanity instead of the enrichment of some. In short, we must take our leave from this liberal and capitalist agriculture to return to peasant agriculture. Today the peasantry no longer live exclusively from the land, their work and their functions are devalued, and they are increasingly marginalized and progressively excluded from the agricultural sector. In these circumstances, no one can say that the peasants alone can ensure the sufficient food for all humanity. It’s just not possible.

And it is almost impossible to imagine a neoliberal or even state-capitalist regime to be interested in devolving power to the poorest people in society.

Or even feeding people. They don’t care.

They care about neither. Technically it is possible to shift the existing system, but we can’t see it. So maybe this leads to the last question. Habib, now you have an organization, the Observatory of Food Sovereignty and Environment (OSAE), what kind of work is it doing, how do you see it contributing to the debate around food sovereignty, and how do you see it moving forward?

I was at the founding of the Observatory of Food Sovereignty and Environment OSAE, but I am not alone since we are four founding members (Nada Trigui, Amine Slem, Adnen Ben Haj and myself) and therefore accountable for the association. I think that the debates since 2011 have been too political, and do not usually rely on accurate and verifiable knowledge and data.

In addition, social science research on issues such as food sovereignty, peasant issues and the environment is very limited and poor. The few researchers working on these subjects publish in foreign languages ​​and rarely in Arabic and even less in local dialects. As a result, they are seldom read and discussed since people do not know them, and they do not know their work, which is almost never discussed publicly outside research environments and associated spaces. But important debates need a certain amount of knowledge and analysis based on research. Otherwise, we are no longer in a real debate, but immersed in sterile and unproductive chatter. If you do not do research, people cannot know things. And if they cannot know, they cannot debate from a solid foundation.

Our idea, and it is, perhaps, the novelty of OSAE, is to be a structure that aims at debate and proposals based on research, and verifiable and verified information. Secondly, perhaps advocacy activities and support for peasants and those engaged in the struggle against the destruction of the environment, nature and natural resources. But that will be a second stage.

We want to start by forming a solid research nucleus, which examines these current issues of food sovereignty in relation to law, justice, the environment, and social conditions. So OSAE is primarily a committed civic research organization. Therein lies its contribution. As far as I know, it is alone in working on the rural world and which aims to put forth a new reading of its situation and its problems, and to advocate new discourses based on the research and analysis produced by members of OSAE or by others who wish to collaborate with us. Research at first, training of researchers, information, and invitations to debate are our agenda for the current and future moments. In a second step, once we are more settled, we will intervene on the ground with actions more directly engaged with farmers, consumers, young people and, of course, civil society.

There is also a question of sovereignty here. There is a real problem which we have not as yet discussed. The majority of those who contribute to and set the boundaries of political debates around food sovereignty, including in the social sciences, are composed of foreign or foreignized actors. People who are from here, but totally disconnected from realities and local communities. They live elsewhere. They work elsewhere. They think elsewhere. Some do excellent work but from the North, and with questions, problems, analytical tools and readings from the North. My dream for OSAE is to initiate a research programme which thinks fromhere, without, of course, cutting itself off from those who think from their own fields, specialties, and problematics.

Habib Ayeb is a professor of geography at Université Paris 8 and film-maker. This interview was transcribed by Nada Trigui.

 

 

Dissolving Empire: David Harvey, John Smith, and the Migrant

By Adam Mayer

In January and early February 2018 on roape.net, we witnessed a debate between David Harvey (Distinguished Professor of Anthropology, History and Geography at the Graduate Center of the City University of New York, father of a range of disciplines around radical geography, and perhaps the single most recognizable Marxist name globally, beside Slavoj Zizek) and John Smith (formerly Kingston University, London, winner of the first Paul A. Baran–Paul M. Sweezy Memorial Award for an original monograph, Imperialism in the Twenty-First Century, and a working class activist).

This was not Harvey’s first grand debate on the subject of imperialism. Recently, the Patnaiks included Harvey’s response to their own work on imperialism  in their very own volume: a fruitful and polite exchange that revolves around the question whether commodities that come mainly from tropical countries, are producible only at an increasing supply price, threatening the value of money, and causing income deflation in the global South. The geographical and climatic core of capitalism is a given for the Patnaiks and Harvey challenges their idea with restrained delight.

Unfortunately, it is hard to describe the subject of my blogpost, the debate between Harvey and Smith, as restrained, polite delight. Harvey talks of Smith’s ‘rank idealism,’ his ‘crude and rigid theory of imperialism,’ and a ‘polemic instead of a reasoned critique.’ Smith had irked Harvey by shedding light on one of the least defensible aspects of Harvey’s concept of ‘deterritorialised, deracinated, depersonalized global capital,’ commanding a world where the imperialist super-exploitation of the East and of the South had already ceased and where the role of the imperialist super-exploiter had been reassigned to China’s and other East Asian countries’ bourgeoisies. Where ‘roles have already been reversed’ between East and West, as Harvey put it.

“Where are the millions of foreign students that pay the equivalent of hundreds of years of local wages, for a semester at a university in the People’s Republic of China”

John Smith battles Harvey’s problematic assertions with a political economy toolkit from his magnificent volume, and then again in his roape.net entry, and I shall not repeat here his arguments on outsourcing, global labour arbitrage, or how the last global financial crisis appeared. Instead, I shall concentrate on what I understand to be Harvey’s fundamental flow of method in their debate: the disappearance of time, and thus, historicity, from Harvey’s thought. This is no small matter when we consider that Lenin considered imperialism a stage of capitalism. 

This hiatus did not appear just with Harvey’s take on Smith’s theory of imperialism. He recently critiqued the Patnaiks by saying that their ‘concepts of space, place, geography, environment are all wrong.’ To Smith in a similar vein: ‘there I found the traditional conception of imperialism derived from Lenin (and subsequently set in stone by the likes of John Smith) inadequate to describe the complex spatial interterritorial and space-specific forms of production, realization and distribution,’ in both cases entirely omitting the factor of time, history, and historical materialism from his summary.

This is not by chance. Harvey’s omission is structural, conscious, and dangerous. In his early career and again in the case of his tome on the Paris Commune, employed a historical method, and the problem is not his lack of mastery of the subject, of which he is a global expert. Smith also notices how for Harvey, ‘developing countries are now draining wealth from the imperialist centres. This assertion (is) made without any supporting evidence or estimate of magnitude’ (emphasis by Adam Mayer). In other words, even if China super-exploits workers domestically and to some extent internationally (in exceptional cases), does this mean that China in economic, cultural, social, or military terms has reached the status of an imperialist power, and that ‘relations are now reversed’ between East and West, as Harvey claims?

“When the wretched of the earth die to reach the shores of the People’s Republic of China at sea, and not the shores of Australia as they currently do, that is precisely when I will be ready to follow Harvey’s take on imperialism”

When Harvey analyses the changing landscapes of global capital, he concentrates on production, finance, town planning, wages and interest rates but ignores in its entirety the role of cultural capital and a host of other forms of capital, such as social capital, and something else that materializes when they are absent: desire. Social capital is of course very often associated with amelioration of working people’s living conditions, and is usually used in a reformist context. The concept of cultural capital, due to its provenance in Bourdieu, is usually seen as less applicable to non-European economies (as Bourdieu includes patterns of speech and habits such as enjoying opera performances, as part of the bourgeoisie’s and its individual members’ cultural capital). I propose here to focus rather on the flipside of social and cultural capital: the very monetary convertibility of social and cultural capital, the fate of the subaltern and the excluded, the figure of the migrant who desires legal, social and cultural capital, in order to demonstrate how absurd Harvey’s notion of the changing cores of global imperialism really is. The figure of the African migrant (from the refugee who loses his life on a boat on the way to Italy, to the absentee bourgeois who purchased his first world citizenship after bleeding his tropical home of resources in order to be able to do so), is central to our investigation of where imperialism resides, and where empires are really located.

If we think even for a moment about where research, patents, fashions, new ideas and ideologies are born and nurtured, we see immediately how offensively improbable Harvey’s argument is. Where are the millions of foreign students that pay the equivalent of hundreds of years of local wages, for a semester at a university in the People’s Republic of China, or even in Japan? Even Japan and South Korea woo talented students with scholarships from less fortunate countries, not to mention China or the others (China just started employing foreign professors and is in a frenzy to get foreign students by offering scholarships). Are Chinese degrees capital investments in ways that US, or even New Zealand degrees are? The PRC is an absolute newcomer to the game of how cultural capital works in the modern world – on work innovation, R&D, global fashion function and how to create desire on a global scale.

Harvey claims that due partly to super-exploitation originating in the East, the Western worker’s plight is now on a convergence course with the Eastern and Southern worker. The Western worker or unemployed person does not live on the lap of luxury as Harvey reminds us in his rebuttal of Smith’s work. However, many Western unemployed workers have access to food (in the form of food stamps or unemployment benefits), and many have health coverage. Compare this with Hungary (a semi-peripheral economy) where there is no unemployment benefit, and the peripheral economies of Asia and Africa, where the poor live in constant fear of hunger. When it comes to Harvey’s ‘new imperialists’: Singapore for one has no unemployment benefits at all (and treats this problem as part and parcel of its promotion of family values and ‘responsibility’). I am discussing an individual’s very food security here: people are fed even in exploitative and privately owned US prisons, while they are not fed even in state prisons in many countries of the South and East where relatives are expected to bring in food for inmates or else the convict dies of hunger. (US prison populations, and especially Black prison inmates, are obviously, a super-exploited group in US capitalism and this is not to deny their super-exploitation but to illustrate how in the West, relative deprivation means different things from what it means outside the West).

“By 2018, significant segments of both the comprador bourgeoisie and of the professional class have emigrated from countries such as Nigeria, effectively constituting a new, emergent global class of Southern absentee bourgeoisie in the North”

It is beyond absurd to compare the status of the Western proletariat (and precariat, and lumpenproletariat, and peasantry, and single working mothers, and the elderly) in core Western countries and those outside those countries. Even if a Western unemployed person is materially poorer than a Southern or Eastern unemployed person, the former owns (in a very immediate sense) a passport that is worth literally dying for (as African migrants, and Asian migrants, demonstrate day to day, tragically). Thus, it is not Smith but David Harvey, who is thinking in an idealist way, when mistaking money flows and production flows for imperial standing. It is true that the crumbs that fall to the subaltern classes within Western economies are made possible by imperial super-exploitation in late capitalism: to deny this is to deny the obvious. When the wretched of the Earth die to reach the shores of the People’s Republic of China at sea, and not the shores of Australia as they currently do, that is precisely when I will be ready to follow Harvey’s take on imperialism to the extent that ‘reversing the roles has perhaps just advanced beyond its very inception.’ But when legal protections, simple food security, as well as access to knowledge and innovation are as unequally distributed as they are today – and the inequality is growing –  it may well take decades or a century to talk of roles ‘already reversed’ (and what if China chooses to coexist in a secondary role to the corporate West as Japan does?). This is what I mean when I say that Harvey ignores the factor of time and that his focus on space is rigid. Importantly, at the point, when ‘roles have reversed,’ this very debate would take place in Mandarin, and not English (the author of this blogpost is Hungarian).

I would go further. Beyond cultural, social and legal capital, there is the lack of access, the lack of rights, the lack of opportunities, the lack of dreams. From Africa, since structural adjustment programmes and the even more hypocritically named poverty reduction programmes have disenfranchised the post-colonial state and deindustrialized the continent, the African proletariat and the unemployed started to seek Western passports just to ensure survival. As a parallel development, the bourgeoisie has become similarly mobile, just to secure their possessions and their families’ survival amidst a rapidly deteriorating security situation in their home countries. By 2018, significant segments of both the comprador bourgeoisie and of the professional class have emigrated from countries such as Nigeria, effectively constituting a new, emergent global class of Southern absentee bourgeoisie in the North. This very class, one leg in the old country, and another in the US or the UK, is represented by the émigré writers who represent global peaks in high literature, such as Chimamanda Adichie and others.

The poor however, cross the Mediterranean risking their lives just to reach the refugee camps of Italy (a journey that although it usually costs several thousand dollars, is also extremely risky). The better off try to arrange faux marriages with European partners. The really rich may of course, purchase citizenships in the imperialist nations, such as Spain, for around €500,000 per family (entirely risk free, realized in real estate investment). Such is the meaning of – the lack of – social and legal capital: in order to link yourself to a functional society and its benefits (to imperialism, if you will), you may invest as much as your life, your emotional wellbeing, or a very serious amount of money, just to ensure your access to the ameliorative effects and affects, of living in a core imperialist country.

Now to the flipside of the concept of cultural capital. For elite ranks of the global bourgeoisie, the education component of their cultural capital is almost entirely covered by money: they can pay their way through the best schools in the best countries. The global middle class may need scholarships, tricks such as eyeing spousal employment patterns in say, Cambridge. The poor are shut out from most of knowledge production and even access in most countries.

“David Harvey’s ahistorical studies of unstable flows and dissolving empire and centre-less capitalism lull us into feeling better about ourselves and our role in the machine (wherever we are), and thus they help kill our revolutionary instincts”

Modern empires are rooted in market exchange and they are to be uncovered primarily as mechanisms of global political economy, but empires are also rooted in brute force – manifest in the number of nuclear warheads, military bases abroad, countries attacked, life-worlds destroyed. This is the very connection that Lenin and Rosa Luxemburg had noticed. Do China, Singapore or South Korea exhibit capabilities in these regards that make them equals of the US or even of the UK or Germany, beyond sensationalist, journalistic exaggeration and warmongering in the mainstream Western press? A simple count of foreign countries attacked by East Asian countries and the United States and its allies in the last fifty years eliminates any sense of bias and makes the concept of ‘roles already reversed’ look positively ridiculous.

Empires are also rooted in desire and in voluntary and mass submission – a sickness really as far as the individual colonial subject is concerned as Fanon teaches us, and as Deleuze and Guattari demonstrate. Do Chinese lifestyles compete with US suburban lifestyles as truly global aspirational dreams? Do people the world over usually watch documentaries on Zhou Enlai’s theoretical thought or do they watch Billy Graham and his ilk on cable and on the net? Do daughters of the Zambian political class get into trouble for expressing their sexualities in ways that copy US celebrities (I am referring to Iris Kaingu, Paris Hilton and Kim Kardashian), or do they emulate Chinese culture in their aesthetic and sexual aspirations in any discernible way? The self-conscious absurdity of my juxtapositions is obvious. US urban sprawl norms, the norms of empire, are encroaching on China itself.

Now back to the issue of time. Becoming an imperial centre took two centuries for the UK, and for the US, it took one and a half. For Britain, there was a century and half between destroying the textile industry of Bengal and becoming a global center for R&D (the first industrial revolution was less rooted in hard science than in artisanal inventions in the UK). The destruction of Northern Nigeria’s textile industry cut the chronology roughly in half. For the US, only WWII created the pre-conditions for bringing its higher education into real competition with European universities: something that occurred more than two centuries later than the start of their genocidal ethnic cleansing of North American natives (the deep history of their domestic empire). Even if we assert that money flows and changes in technology today are incomparably faster than they were seventy years ago, it is not reasonable to imagine that significant proportions of even the world’s elite would come to speak Mandarin within the coming decades (given the investment in time that such an effort requires, relative to the benefits), not to talk about aspiring to Chinese lifestyles, emulating Chinese norms, and choosing to mass convert to Chinese or other East Asian religions, world views or philosophies, or follow their fashions. Displaying Maoist porcelain statuettes on mantelpieces is very much a subcultural phenomenon for New York that barely reaches even the Western European artistic avant-garde. China even makes great pains to demonstrate to the West that it is not competing with others in terms of ideology. Is this the stance of a world empire, fountain of super-exploitation as in Harvey’s depiction?

Now to the issue of Leninism, Harvey’s ideological attack on Smith, and its relation to concepts of imperial cores and peripheries. It is not a coincidence that post-colonial writers and thinkers, along with representatives of the non-Marxist World Systems Theory, including Wallerstein and Grosfoguel, stick to classical concepts of who the imperialist powers are (Western military historians do this too, simply following historical precedent). Ramon Grosfoguel of the dependency school, who deals with philosophical links between the concept of the universal, and the dark history of extermination and epistemicide in the South, enlightens us about the colonialist origins of the Cartesian “God-s eye’s view” which, although it claims to have universal validity, is in fact restricted to male thinkers from just five countries: the USA, UK, France, Germany, and Italy. Philosophy, a discipline that is notorious for being the most exclusive and most racialist in terms of its classical canon, is a test for the Westernized university the world over, but also of how closely the history of thought has followed the history of economic might and plunder. Grosfoguel himself is no Marxist, indeed he calls universalist enlightenment philosophy (the historical antecedent to secular Marxism and Leninism) “idolatry,” but still he recognizes the basic materialistic forces behind the history of ideas, and the unevenly stable global constellation of imperialism.

What seems to annoy Harvey is also Smith’s political radicalism. Smith extolls the experience of Cuba’s trade with the USSR in his book as the best example of fair trade in history, calls the Sino-Soviet split “a tragedy”, attacks both dependency theory and euro-Marxism on account their lack of true engagement with radicalism in the South, along with Ellen M. Wood for her famous assertion of the European (domestic) origins of capitalism as opposed to one rooted in the colonial enterprise. Smith is no Keynesian. Remembering that Greece is a place where the colonels had won and where Syriza could not carry out its valiant programme, he calls the country, tragically but correctly, a minor imperialist power within an imperialist club (the EU). Smith is an uncompromising revolutionary radical. This is what annoys Harvey, who seeks to please.

I will not enter the argument whether Harvey is a closet Keynesian or not: he of course claims otherwise and it is usually well advised to take a thinker’s self-definition seriously. However, when he muses on the tactical desirability of Keynesian solutions, he forgets a crucial component to any Keynesian story: the menacing, state socialist Other, lurking behind the social democratic, capitalist borders. There has not been a successful major Keynesian experiment in the capitalist core since the collapse of state socialism outside it. To demand for Keynesian solutions without advocating for revolutions that provide space for any Keynesianism to appear, is true, unabashed idealism peppered with a pinch of nostalgia: again pointing to Harvey’s disappearing theoretical sense of time and of history.  

Today’s protagonist, the migrant, knows exactly the truth about wherein lie empire. Be she a member of the global elite who purchases a legal stake in empire, or a poor refugee who hangs off a boat next to Queensland, Australia, she knows perfectly well that her destination is part of the corporate imperial Western core, and that is why her chances of physical survival, security and self-actualization are so much higher there than in her home. This also tells us that with the partial exception of China and a small number of other countries (much of the planet’s non-Western landmass is becoming more unlivable as well as more unjust, for the subaltern and even for the bourgeoisie.

Instead of meaningful convergence, we see imperialism roaming the earth, looking for new prey, as in Africa and its new “security hotspots.” David Harvey’s ahistorical studies of unstable flows and dissolving empire and centre-less capitalism lull us into feeling better about ourselves and our role in the machine (wherever we are), and thus they help kill our revolutionary instincts. Herein lies the very real danger of today’s huggable David Harvey, and this is also the reason why the sage’s habitual politeness disappears as he derides John Smith, the uncompromising radical.

Adam Mayer is the author of Naija Marxisms: Revolutionary Thought in Nigeria published by Pluto Press, released in 2016. He teaches at the Department of Politics and International Relations at the University of Kurdistan Hewlêr.

Featured Photograph: Arrested refugees-immigrants in Fylakio detention center, Evros, Greece (9 October 2010). 

Agriculture and Sovereignty in North Africa

By Max Ajl

Two members of the Thimar collective, Habib Ayeb of the University of Paris – VIII, Ray Bush of the University of Leeds, several frequent collaborators of Thimar – François Ireton and Max Ajl – as well as Amine Slim and Corinna Mullin, spoke at a conference which Bush and Ayeb convened on Agricultural Policies and Food Dependencies in North Africa in Tunisia on Friday, May 29, 2017 at the headquarters of the Tunisian Forum for Social and Economic Rights.

Ayeb opened the forum. He pointed out that price inflation of Tunisia’s basic food crops and heritage crops, combined with wages failing to keep pace, was pricing Tunisians out of the market for the most basic healthy subsistence needs. A female agricultural laborer, for example, would have to work a full day to make enough money to buy a liter of olive oil.

After Ayeb’s opening, Ray Bush spoke on food security, sovereignty, and protest in Egypt and Tunisia. Bush discussed how prevailing plans from the Ministries of Agriculture discussed small farmers and their poverty, but gave scant attention to how small farmers had become poor. He framed their impoverishment in a longer-term analysis of the Nasserist legislation endowing peasants with permanent rights to use the land, as well as the revocation of the legislation in the early 1990s, leading to mounting differentiation and concentration of ownership. President El Sisi has stewarded the latest phase of the country’s rural planning regime. On the one hand at a recent meeting in Sharm el Sheikh the country’s leadership admitted that there was a ‘state of exception’ allowing for the violation of human rights. On the other, as one farmer observed, such policies and the poverty they were exacerbating could cause ‘the entire country [to] go up in flames’ if the government did not treat the people well. Bush also noted that capital has increasingly entered the agricultural circuit, seeking profits in the realm of 10-15 percent and tightly squeezing farmers’ revenues and surplus – the only available source from which to extract such incredibly high profits.

Bush also counter-posed food security based on trade to food sovereignty based on locally secured production. The former was triggering a ‘global subsistence crisis.’ As a consequence, protests around both agriculture and land have become ‘systemic and systematic.’ Against this tableau, he proposed we attempt to generalize categories of analysis that allow us to understand this crisis, and to confront the issue of our time: delivering accessible and available food to the world’s poor in a way that is sustainable for the planet. Food sovereignty, he suggested, is the answer.

Max Ajl of Cornell University examined similarities and differences between the discourse and movements fitting under the umbrella of food sovereignty, delinking, or breaking from the global law of value, as Egyptian economist Samir Amin, conceptualized it. There are, Ajl argued, strains of Tunisian populist agronomy and economics which built creatively, organically, and locally from the de-linking tradition.

Ajl began by historically situating the emergence of food sovereignty amidst the gestation of La Via Campesina in the ruin which Latin American neoliberalism created. Against this social breakdown, popular struggles drawing on liberation theology and peasant movements drawing on indigenista thought combined with the more traditional left to build a variety of continental peasant movements engaged in struggles for land and control over food production. These movements had coalesced into La Via Campesina (LVC) by the mid-1990s, which then spread to South Asia and sub-Saharan Africa and the North Africa region.

He then noted that LVC’s proposed technics for food sovereignty was agro-ecology. The institutions responsible for ensuring food sovereignty shift in different LVC statements and position papers between the people, the nation, and the state. The Latin American governments, pushed by popular pressure, have put in place programs and constitutional architecture to help their countries achieve food sovereignty.

Ajl compared the program of food sovereignty with that of delinking, focusing on the question of national autonomy over the productive matrix – their most compelling point of convergence. As a mode of analysis, delinking was unevenly attentive to the ecological question. In contrast, Tunisian popular agronomy was incredibly attentive to ecological issues, with economists and agronomists like Abdeljelil Bedoui and Slaheddine el-Amami putting forth programs for agro-ecology well before the phrase had become common. Ajl then compared and contrasted the three frameworks, noting the centrality of food and rural issues to any anti-systemic project as well as the currently-existing anti-systemic projects outside of the region.

Francois Ireton of the CNRS used FAO statistical data to compare food production and consumption in Tunisia and Egypt from the immediate post-colonial period until the present. He noted that calorie consumption in both countries had increased since the post-Independence period, with a lower and lower percentage of overall calorie production coming from cereals. Meanwhile, both countries had become severely dependent on imported cereals, in part because of extensive diversion of cereal stocks to feed livestock.

Ireton also observed that Egypt had a smaller proportion of its cereal calories coming from wheat than Tunisia, and a more mixed cereal basket. At the same time, Egyptians consume a higher percentage of their daily calories in cereals than do Tunisians. And Tunisia has experienced a massive increase in the use of barley for animal feeding since the 1960s.

Amine Slim, a researcher at the National Gene Bank, suggested that the farmer was a ‘key’ actor in the conservation of biodiversity. He pointed out that there was ongoing ‘genetic erosion’ within Tunisia, with just five varieties of barley and wheat commonly cultivated, whereas in 1940 farmers commonly cultivated 50 types of these cereals. Furthermore, agriculture itself, in its search for high yields, had moved to the simplification of agriculture in the form of monoculture.

He suggested that agriculture can promote biodiversity through ecosystem services and retaining humidity in the soil, as well as carbon-fixing, and promoting the preservation of ecological knowledge. He also argued for in situ conservation of genetic diversity, with would imply the maintenance of a viable population of cultivars and land-races on the land. The Gene Bank is involved in some of these efforts, working with ICARDA and the FAO, and enlisting farmers in the effort.

Slim also compared the nutritional profile and resilience of traditional land races with the Green Revolution imported varieties. The former produce far more hay per hectare, and also have far higher percentages of protein – up to five percent higher in wheat and semolina (up to six percentage points more protein) making a far more complete nutritional profile. The imported wheats are also more vulnerable to disease than traditional wheats. The Gene Bank has also started a program to restore older barley land-races, often going to the relatively isolated islands of Jerba and Kerkennah to gather genetic material. Slim noted that local practices and knowledge allow for a greater capacity for local management.

Concluding the presentations, Ayeb gave a panorama of colonial and post-colonial land tenure and agricultural planning systems. He analyzed the conversion from collective land under pre-colonial usufruct rights – the right to use something belonging to another – to the colonial and post-colonial emphasis on private ownership and leasing. The post-colonial state, he pointed out, had played a profound role in pushing for the de-collectivization of lands. He juxtaposed the state’s role in destroying collective ownership outside of its aegis with pushing for collective ownership through cooperatives under its aegis and highlighted how the 1960s cooperative program had dismantled large swathes of family, petty commodity, and subsistence production across Tunisia.

Ayeb insisted that the ownership of land is central for understanding food dependence in Tunisia. Sidi Bouzid, for example, a governorate with rates of landlessness and massive inequality in land ownership, is also one of the main arenas for agriculture in the country and yet one of its poorest. There has been a massive inrush of investment, knowledge and ‘development’ yet it remains, Ayeb explained, poor and dispossessed, the outcome of the dispossession of the primary producers.

Ayeb also discussed how the attempts or programs for modernization were based on emulating the techniques of the old colonial land-holders. Accompanying such a program was the notion that peasants, in the words of some of the planners, were a ‘force of inertia,’ and what was needed was to ‘transform the structure of production, the mentalities,’ a frequent theme and expression of government planners in the 1960s, with abundant evidence of its omnipresence. Finally, he pointed out the fundamental distinction between food sovereignty and security, with the latter based on the mantras of trade and comparative advantage whereas the former was about substantive social empowerment.

During the concluding discussion, Corinna Mullin of the Tunis Business School discussed the possibilities of what regional integration might signify for the possibilities of food sovereignty, pointing out that different countries might have different advantages. She also discussed the role of the free trade treaties in hollowing out Tunisia’s productive structure, including its agricultural system, and argued that they are a mechanism of imperialist control.

Ajl also raised the question of regional integration, pointing out that it had been a constant through the 1970s and 1980, and that many of Amami’s proposals for arid land agricultural development had been first voiced during pan-Arab meetings. He also discussed the importance of national projects, and the fact that countries which were under pressure from the US state have tended to be those countries which either in the near past or present had asserted or were asserting control over their national rural sectors.

Max Ajl is an activist and scholar, his research focuses on agricultural development policy in North Africa, state subsidy policy, and the world commodity markets. 

Featured photograph: Governorate of Dakahlia, Egypt (Ray Bush, 2013).

Class Accumulation and Personal Aggrandisement

In an interview with ROAPE’s Tunde Zack-Williams, roape.net asks about his background as an activist and a scholar and his research as a radical political economist who has written extensively on Sierra Leone. Zack focuses on the country’s recent history, it political parties, Blair’s intervention and the disasters of neoliberal reforms.

Can you please tell roape.net a little bit about your background? Where you grew up and studied and your research and academic work with ROAPE.

I was born in Freetown, Sierra Leone and on completion of my secondary education, I moved to Liverpool to complete my ‘A levels’ and then to study for a degree in sociology at Liverpool University. I later gained a university award from Salford University where I pursued a master’s degree by thesis only, on ‘Underdevelopment and Economic Planning in West Africa with Special Relations to Sierra Leone’, looking at the Governments’ five-year development plan. My award was for two years, but I was able to submit my thesis after one year, to enable me to take up an Economic and Social Science Council award from the Department of Sociological Studies at Sheffield University, for my doctorate. My thesis was on ‘Underdevelopment and Diamond Mining in Sierra Leone’. I was keen to find out why Sierra Leone, like so many countries on the continent, was rich in minerals and yet poor and underdeveloped.

In Sheffield, my supervisors were Ankie Hoogvelt and one of the founding editors of ROAPE, Lionel Cliffe. I also linked up with Josep R. Llobera, who through his home journal, Critique of Anthropology, introduced me to the works of the French Marxist anthropologist: Claude Meillassoux, Pierre Phillipe Rey, George Balandier, Catherine Coquery-Vidrovtch, Maurice Godelier, and other Marxists such as C.F.S. Cardoso, Paul Hirst and Barry Hindess, who taught me in Liverpool.

On completion of my PhD, I took up a position at Bayero University in Kano, Nigeria and later moved on to Jos University, where I had the unique privilege of working with the late great Omafume Onoge, a superb sociologist taught by Talcott Parsons, but, who totally rejected the work of his teacher. He was a great comrade, a wonderful motivator and an extremely helpful to young academics. I am pleased to say that we were able to transform sociology in Jos into a radical Africa-relevant discipline. After five years in Nigeria, I returned to Britain to take up a teaching position at the University of Central Lancashire, in Preston. I have been involved with ROAPE ever since my return to the UK in the 1980s when I was invited to join the EWG or as Lionel liked to say, ‘The ROAPE Family’. Working with ROAPE is the best ‘job’ for any radical scholar on Africa.

Elections were held in Sierra Leone on 7 March, we thought it would be important for our readers to have some background to recent events in the country. The civil war in Sierra Leone began in 1991 and was declared officially over in 2002 after the UK, UN, and regional African military intervention. Can you speak briefly about the period of the civil war, its causes and consequences?

The election of 7 March 2018 was the first election to be organized solely by the Sierra Leone government since the end of the civil war in 1991, and as such there was great interest in how this would turn out, as the country continues the process of consolidating peace. The country’s politics has been dominated by what Yusuf Bangura has described as a duopoly: that of the Sierra Leone People’s Party (SLPP), the country’s oldest functioning political organization, with much of its support drawn from the south and eastern districts; and that of the All People’s Congress (APC), with support mainly from the North and Western Area, which includes Freetown, the capital. Since independence, the SLPP has been in power from 1961-1967, and 2002-2007; the APC from 1968-1992, a period of 24 years culminating in the ‘dictatorship of the one-party state’ a major causal factor for the civil war. APC was returned to power in 2007 under the Presidency of Ernest Bai Koroma, after a short period in the political wilderness, with the electorate seemingly punishing the party for its role in precipitating the country’s civil war. The party was able to retain power from 2007- 2018.

“Both parties in the country have been accused of widespread corruption, electoral malpractices, political thuggery and total disregard for the basic needs of working people”

In terms of governance, there is very little that differentiates the two parties: both are sworn to indirect despotism via chiefdom overlords known as Paramount Chiefs, renowned for their extreme brutality and unjust treatment of young men whose grievances impelled many to take up arms, which led to the civil war. Furthermore, both parties have recklessly embarked on widespread embezzlement with impunity. Despite the radical rhetoric of the APC and the trade union roots of its founder, there is no evidence of the party privileging the producers of the nation’s wealth. Its stance on economic and social issues can hardly be differentiated from that of its rival, SLPP. Indeed, because of its intolerance of democratic values and the lack of economic transparency, the APC has done a lot to undermine not only the rights of the labouring classes but also the country’s democracy. For example, in its current term, it has sought to change the constitution and to appoint judges who would ratify their policies to change the constitution, either to extend its time in office and to disqualify opponents on the spurious ground.  It is important to remember that though the APC has ruled Sierra Leone for most of its post-independence years, it has not handed over power either peacefully or, to a civilian successor regime – they had to be removed from power after 24 years by a military coup.

Both parties have historically been enmeshed in the politics of primordial loyalties, leading to widespread dissatisfaction and alienation from the centre. Both parties have been accused of widespread corruption, electoral malpractices, political thuggery and total disregard for the basic needs of working people.  Meanwhile, the nation’s land resources (diamonds, iron ore) and sea resources (fish and oil) are being mortgaged to international companies without any public discussion or accountability. These actions have brought widespread dissatisfaction with the ruling APC, as the standard of living of people continues to deteriorate.

It is this sense of hopelessness stemming from years of social and economic deprivation triggered by corruption and the fallout from years of structural adjustment policies imposed on the Sierra Leonean people throughout the 1980, that impelled young men and women to take up arms in 1991 to rectify the situation, by getting rid of the corrupt APC regime led by Joseph Momoh, that refused to conduct free and fair elections. In the post-civil war years hardly anything has changed: if anything the corruption of the Kabba regime of 1998-2007 seems amateurish compared to the widespread malfeasance under the regime of the Ernest Bai Koroma. His Government has been accused of squandering millions of dollars raised from overseas, destined for Ebola victims; also money destined for pilgrims undertaking the haj; as well as money raised for victims of last year’s flood.

The government has been accused by its critics of failing to account for proceeds from the sale of the 476-carat diamond handed over to Koroma by a miner thought to have been sold for $7.7 million. Meanwhile, the social and physical infrastructures are at breaking point as children are educated in dilapidated buildings; virtually all Sierra Leone school children in the country are schooled via a dual shift system: one set in the morning and one in the afternoon, due to lack of teaching infrastructure. Many state employees go for months without wages or salary. Sierra Leoneans are appalled that large portions of their natural resources, such as fisheries, diamonds, iron ore and fertile land have been mortgaged to foreign concerns.

“A sense of hopelessness stemming from years of social and economic deprivation triggered by corruption and years of structural adjustment policies imposed on the Sierra Leonean people throughout the 1980s, impelled young men and women to take up arms in 1991” 

There is widespread dissatisfaction with both parties and Sierra Leoneans had become tired of the political intrigue of the two parties whom they described by the sobriquet as ‘Alhassan’ and ‘Alusine’, meaning that they are identical twins, with the same bankrupt and exploitative policies. However, the arrival of a third force, the National Grand Coalition (NGC), led by Alhaji Dr Kandeh Yumkella, seems to have offered a new alternative and injected new enthusiasm into the election campaign in the mind of voters. Kandeh Yumkella, popularly known as KKY is leader of the recently formed third force, the National Grand Coalition, which is a new political group, recently registered as a political party to contest this year’s election, not before overcoming some legal shenanigan placed in his path by the APC government, who fearful of the enthusiasm of the NGC campaign decided that the best way to defeat Yumkella was by denying him the opportunity to stand by claiming that he held dual nationality status from his period in the United States. Despite the production of documents showing that he had renounced his American citizenship, the APC still pursued their fight for his disqualification.

Yumkella is not new to Sierra Leone politics: his father was a founder member of the opposition SLPP and Yumkella’s initial wish was to be given the party’s backing; to enable him to run as their presidential candidate, and this is not surprising, since he was a minister in the last SLPP government under Tejan Kabba. However, Yumkella faced strong competition from an SLPP stalwart in the person of ex-Brigadier Maada Bio, a member of what Jimmy Kandeh has referred to as West Africa’s ‘militariat’; who in January 1996 seized power from Captain Strasser to lead a blood-thirsty regime that killed over two dozen innocent people on trumped-up charges including sedition and planning to overthrow his military regime.   

Yumkella’s failure to obtain SLPP backing and the subsequent founding of the NGC presented an opportunity for the country to engage in ‘new politics’: one that demands accountability, transparency, clearly defined line between public and private property, the rule of law, separation of powers between the executive and the judiciary; as well as bringing an end to the hegemony of the duopoly who, largely pedalled ethnicity, violence and thuggery. Barely a few months before the elections, Yumkella announced the founding the NGC challenge the duopoly with a programme, which the country has never heard of: including demands for political and economic accountability, urging voters to bring to an end the hopeless duel. Unfortunately, critics have pointed out that it is doubtful if the NGC will have enough time to convince voters that they are a truly different brand of politics. At the same time critics have pointed out that the NGC has attracted some unsavory characters, particularly from the Sierra Leone Diaspora. The party’s performance in the first round election was quite disappointing to its supporters, which point to the entrenchment of the duopoly, with their chiefly support in the rural areas. It took the APC the best part of a decade from its inception to its first victory in a national election to unseat the SLPP in the 1967 general elections.

Some claimed the intervention was Tony Blair’s greatest moment, as a case of successful humanitarian intervention. What’s your understanding of the impact of the intervention on Sierra Leone?

In the book When the State Fails: Studies on Intervention in the Sierra Leone Civil War, which I edited with contributions from a number of Sierra Leonean academics we tried to address the issue of Britain’s intervention and the lessons to be learned from the traumatic experiences of the civil war.

First, we have to return to the question why Blair sent British troops. The pretext was to evacuate British and Commonwealth citizens as the violence spread to the capital, Freetown. Second, the aim was to save the United Nations peacekeeping force from humiliation following attacks from the Westside Boys, a faction of the rebels fighting the government, who had captured UN military vehicles and a number of UN soldiers. Third, we recall that the Sierra Leone conflict was the first test for Tony Blair’s New Labour ‘ethical foreign policy’ much heralded by Foreign Secretary, Robin Cook.

“The intervention of British troops was followed by heavy doses of neo-liberalism, resulting in further shrinking of the state and the proliferation of non-accountable non-governmental organizations”

Clearly, Sierra Leoneans were grateful for the intervention of British troops, which eventually brought peace to their country. However, it is doubtful if they were so thankful with the ‘liberal peace project’ that was imposed on them, the object of which was, according to one commentator, protect ‘the hegemonic and economic interests of the Western world in Africa.’  

The liberal peace was followed by heavy doses of neo-liberalism, resulting in further shrinking of the state and the proliferation of non-accountable non-governmental organizations, and decentralization which left young people at the mercy of unscrupulous traditional rulers. Again, in When the State Fails, Jimmy D. Kandeh was skeptical as to whether neo-liberalism orthodoxy can either act as an antidote to armed conflicts in Africa or, as a model for development in post-conflict societies, since it seeks to transfer the ‘best practices of Western societies to the rest of the world via the Weberian state and seeks to achieve this at lightning pace.’  Indeed, the post-war regimes in Sierra Leone, in particular, the outgoing regime of Ernest Koroma, can be truly described as a kleptocracy – where is Mr Blair to clip the wings of his vassal?

Can you give a brief description of the imposition of neoliberalism in the country after the conflict?  

If I can answer this question broadly, I was accused by a comrade (in ROAPE) of describing Morten Jerven or his work as ‘Marxist’. Indeed, what I welcomed in Jerven’s book is the emphasis on how ‘bourgeois economists’ (and that’s a phrase I used when the book was launched at SOAS) have got many things wrong about Africa {[read a discussion of Jerven’s book on roape.net]. My reference to Andre Gunder Frank and Rene Dumont was simply to draw a comparison to the challenges these two authors posed to bourgeois – for Jerven ‘mainstream’ – economists and domestic policymakers. In my view Jerven’s point about growth in Africa, helps us to date the origin of the contemporary ‘African crisis’, in particular, that though there were peaks and troughs, growth continued until the period of the OPEC oil price increases, which culminated in growing balance of payment problems, which led to the long road to the IMF and World Bank, culminating in the destructive structural adjustment programmes (SAP).

SAPs did not address the specific needs of African economies; they simply forced overproduction of primary commodities, and thereby lowering the cost of raw materials for Western industrial producers, whilst the cost of importing manufactured goods increased as the currency under SAPs continued to depreciate in value. The lords of the capitalist world impelled African leaders to transform the African state into a class instrument for accumulation and personal aggrandisement, where the wealth produced in Sierra Leone, for example, ends up in the developed capitalist centre, in the form of real estate or huge bank deposits – resources that were designed to drive development.   

In these elections, please describe for us the major players, who have been in power and what the situation is currently like in the country. In addition, what role has foreign powers and investors played in the country since 2002?

Basically, there are five major players in this election. First, President Ernest Bai Koroma, the outgoing leader and head of the ruling All People’s Congress, who has been in power for the past decade, but went beyond his constitutional right to stay in office and this was challenged all along by the opposition parties. It is a truism that Koroma who was an insurance broker has transformed himself into one of the richest men in the African continent. Koroma was bent on continuing in the path of his predecessor, Siaka Probyn Steven, who ruled Sierra Leone with an iron fist and destroyed the democratic foundations laid by Sir Milton Margai, the country’s first Prime Minister and in its place built a one-party dictatorship. Koroma continuously interfered with the constitution in a bid to reinstate the one-party state that brought misery and civil war to the country. Unfortunately for Sierra Leoneans, the APC are masters of winning elections, and they have never handed power to a civilian successor- may be 2018 will bring a new dawn for the party whose symbol is the rising sun.

“The lords of the capitalist world impelled African leaders to transform the state into a class instrument for accumulation and personal aggrandizement, where the wealth produced in countries like Sierra Leone ends up in the developed capitalist centre”

The second major player is Brigadier Maada Bio for the SLPP, usually referred to as ‘Paopa Maada’, i.e. willy-nilly he was going to get the party’s nomination. Bio believed that he was destined to lead the SLPP (which he did in the last election and lost), and eventually his country. Like Koroma, who comes from a major ethnic group, the Temnes from the North and Central; Paopa Maada comes from the other major ethnic group the Mende. These two groups (in what Yusuf Bangura calls bipolar ethnic structure) account for over 60% of the total Sierra Leone population. As noted earlier, Bio became notorious during the civil when some thirty people were summarily executed by the junta that he led, allegedly for plotting to overthrow his regime. A rumour among Sierra Leoneans (unsubstantiated so far) is that he could be arrested if he enters the USA. In the first round of the election both Bio (for the SLPP) and Koroma’s protégé Samura Kamara did well to move on to the second round, this is not surprising given the ethnic bifurcated nature of the population as well as the duopoly, which defined party politics in the country. They both did well since in the bifurcated state that is Sierra Leone, to carry one of these two major ethnic constituencies undivided is a great asset. In the current campaigning, SLPP supporters have tended to be loyal and disciplined in their support for Paopa Maada.

By contrast, the APC leadership under Koroma, after trying to play one potential candidate off against the other, he has been accused by opponents within the APC of breaking party rules, by personally choosing Samura Mathew Wilson Kamara, a former banker with the central bank as the party’s candidate.  This is not a new phenomenon with the APC, and despite its external ‘socialist’ façade (red colour and the rising sun) the party is not strong on socialist values: unions and workers play little role in decision making, its policies are not geared towards empowering the ‘damne de la terre’ of society, indeed, it valorises the rich and empower them to literally get away with murder. Its leadership is more an oligarchy than a democratic central committee. When the party leader and first President of Sierra Leone decided to retire from office, he did not ask the party to choose a successor, nor did he nominate his heir apparent and deputy President, S. I. Koroma, instead he decided to name his Force Commander, Major-General Saidu Momoh, a fellow member from the minority Limba ethnic group (8% of the total population) to be his successor. Samura Kamara’s detractors point out that he is a Koroma’s puppet and that should he win, Koroma will return as a back-street driver, and like Joseph Momoh, there will be no need for him to be called to account for his stewardship.

You are a radical scholar-activist of African politics and have worked in the field for decades. Can you tell us about your experience, and lessons, from these years and the continued importance of a project of radical transformation and politics in Africa?

My search for an intellectual home within radical scholarly activity is the product of growing up in Sierra Leone, an unequal society, where children are treated as lesser mortals, especially those without guardians. The statistics on Sierra Leone relating to children are abominable: one of the highest infant mortality rates, poor figures on access to education, especially for girls. My desire has always been to understand the social forces behind oppressions and underdevelopment in Africa in order to call time on reactionaries. As noted above I have been lucky to have encountered people on the left, who provided me with theoretical space to reflect on these and other issues as tools not only for my own development but also for investigative reasons. Thus when I took up teaching in Nigeria, I was surprised that  many of my students had not heard of people like Frantz Fanon or Amilcar Cabral and it was my task to introduce them to works such as The Wretched of the Earth and Towards the African Revolution, Black Skins White MasksUnity & Struggle.  I do believe that radical scholarship can aid and inspire social, economic and political transformation in Africa in order to end poverty, servitude, economic backwardness and social mystification. Africa’s resources continue to be plundered by an unholy alliance of the domestic comprador classes and the lords of the capitalist world through what Sarah Bracking has called ‘the financialisation of late capitalism…and these iniquitous structures derivative of global neo-liberalism…’. For me, this represents the worst form of accumulation by dispossession, as a vast amount of potential investible capital leaves the continent for corporatized financial structures in offshore destinations. For Bracking ‘…it is the recent processes of financialisation coupled with the increase in inequality it has wrought that has created the space for elites to be unaccountable and to seek to hang on to power through a credible threat of violence.. .’

The organisation of the rural masses to which Cabral devoted his life, is crucial if economic and political freedom is to be won and consolidated. As an academic, I always welcomed what Walter Rodney called ‘grounding’ with my students: in which difficult issues are raised and debated.  In these debates and discussion, I act as facilitators as my students debate issues including social stratification, power, class, ethnicity and race, gender and sexuality, local and global poverty.

Indeed, as Cabral observed, ‘African revolution means transformation of our present life in the direction of progress. The prerequisite for this is the elimination of foreign economic domination, on which every other type of domination is dependent…’. For Cabral, the organisation of the rural masses is crucial in order to win and sustain freedom and should be the leitmotif of activism

Tunde Zack-Williams is Emeritus Professor of Sociology at the University of Central Lancashire. He was President of the UK African Studies Association from 2006 to 2008. His books include Tributors, Supporters and Merchant Capital: Mining & Underdevelopment in Sierra Leone (1995); The Quest for Sustainable Peace: The 2007 Sierra Leone Elections (2008); Africa Beyond the Post-Colonial: Politics & Socio-Cultural Identities (with Ola Uduku) (2004); Africa in Crisis: New Challenges & Possibilities (2002). He is an editor of the Review of African Political Economy and was a member of the Africa Panel of the British Academy (2008-2011).

The Other Revolutionaries

The Other Revolutionaries: the IWW and the fight against racism in the USA, South Africa, India, and New Zealand

By Lucien van der Walt and Peter Cole

A new collection, published by Pluto Press Wobblies of the World: A Global History of the IWW, helps recover the story of an important generation of revolutionaries who battled racial discrimination and repression. The role of communist parties and other Marxists in struggles against racial discrimination and oppression in the United States has been brought to life by classics like Robin D.G. Kelley’s Hammer and Hoe: Alabama Communists during the Great Depression. For South Africa, there also are key works like Allison Drew’s two-volume South Africa’s Radical Tradition, and Peter Alexander’s Workers, War and the Origins of Apartheid: Labour and Politics in South Africa, 1939-1948. The activities of nationalist groups, of course, has been extensively covered.

But the role of a third stream of radical resistance to racism—by anarchists and syndicalists—often has been ignored. More than a century after the founding of the Industrial Workers of the World (IWW, whose members are referred to as Wobblies) in Chicago in 1905, this is starting to change. Wobblies of the World brings together some of the best new scholarship on this remarkable, international movement.

As its name indicates, the IWW aimed to organise worldwide, and, within years of its founding, it had inspired organisations and activists globally. The IWW was international in scope and internationalist in politics, stressing the importance of international workers unity as embodied in its legendary, common sense slogan, ‘An Injury to One is an Injury to All.’ The IWW was a champion of what we now would call ‘globalisation from below.’ It fought for solidarity across borders, for equal rights and equal wages, and for unity across the lines of country, culture, race, gender, skill, and language. 

As a revolutionary union movement rooted in Left traditions like anarchism and syndicalism, the IWW rejected the idea that governments could emancipate ordinary working class and poor people—and the idea that workers needed to form a party to take state power. In place of parliaments and parties, it aimed at mass education, democratic organizing, and direct action, to create a participatory, democratic, socialism run from below. Revolution would involve the One Big Union seizing the means of production in a revolutionary, global general strike.

The IWW emerged at a time when many unions excluded foreign and unskilled workers, when many unions favoured job colour bars and segregation. However, the IWW in the United States never established a segregated branch. It actively recruited black, Asian, and Latino workers in the United States. It spoke out against racism and segregation and clashed with organisations like the Ku-Klux-Klan, which it, for example, drove out of Greenville, Maine, in 1924.  

In America’s Deep South, the IWW organised amongst black and white lumber workers, including in Louisiana, rejecting segregation. The IWW played an important role on the docks, notably in Philadelphia, and its union work amongst seafarers played a key role in the union’s global diffusion. Some of this story is told in Peter Cole’s Wobblies on the Waterfront: Interracial Unionism in Progressive-Era Philadelphia

As Kenyon Zimmer notes in his chapter in the book, the IWW had a large base amongst immigrants, including Japanese radicals such as Kotoku Shusui in San Francisco, and the majority of the many IWW publications in the United States was in languages other than English. The union opposed the campaigns for a ban on Asian immigration, recruited East and South Asian workers, and Indian revolutionary Har Dayal (1884-1939) served as secretary of the San Francisco IWW. Dayal is discussed in Tariq Khan’s chapter, which looks at IWW connections with South Asia – especially the influence of the IWW on the radical Indian anti-colonial Ghadr Party. Itself a global movement, Ghadr attempted an armed rebellion in India during the First World War, and the IWW and Ghadr were closely intertwined in a range of ways.

Dave Struthers’s chapter in Wobblies of the World focuses on the union’s activities in the southwestern United States. From Los Angeles and San Francisco, the multi-ethnic, multiracial IWW extended its influence into vast circuits of labour connecting Asia, Europe, the East Coast and Mexico. An IWW brigade from the United States fought in the anarchist-led 1911 Baja California rebellion, and the IWW had a substantial union base in Mexico from the 1910s, organising a general strike on the Tampico oil fields in 1921, as discussed in Kevan Antonio Aguilar’s chapter on Mexico’s most important port. There, as in Canada which is discussed in a chapter by Mark Leier, indigenous peoples belonged to the IWW.

In South Africa, where the IWW emerged around 1910, the union opposed racial segregation, craft unionism, and the racist South African Labour Party: the three main pillars of the dominant white labour movement of the time. Van der Walt’s entry in Wobblies of the World covers the first phase of IWW activity.

In this essay, and numerous other pieces, Van der Walt has also discussed the second phase of IWW influence from 1915 onwards, when the idea of a revolutionary One Big Union influenced the core organisations in the revolutionary left and the early black union movement of the time: the International Socialist League, the Industrial Socialist League, the Industrial Workers of Africa, the Indian Workers Industrial Union and sections of the early South African Native National Congress as well as the Industrial and Commercial Workers Union (ICU) in the 1920s.

The IWW’s role in opposing racism in Australia does not feature as prominently in Wobblies of the World although there are great chapters on Australian Wobblies by Verity Burgmann and Paula de Angelis. However, Mark Derby’s entry provides a striking look at the IWW and the Maori in New Zealand. Here, the IWW tended to work within existing unions, rather than form new IWW ones. Its Industrial Unionist published pieces in the Maori language, praised the communal features of earlier Maori society, and deplored colonial land dispossession. It sought to influence Maori workers, an important factor at the docks, farms and mines.

Given this history, it is not surprising that the IWW was admired by figures as diverse as W.E.B. Du Bois, Claude McKay, and Har Dayal, or that the IWW Preamble was adopted by the ICU in Southern Africa in 1925, under the leadership of Clements Kadalie.

Peter Cole is co-editor of Wobblies of the World: A Global History of the IWW (2017, Pluto), and professor of history at Western Illinois University, USA. Lucien van der Walt is based at Rhodes University, South Africa, and has written widely on anarchism and syndicalism in southern Africa. Cole and van der Walt developed some of the arguments presented here in more detail in 2011 in ‘Crossing the Color Lines, Crossing the Continents: Comparing the Racial Politics of the IWW in South Africa and the United States, 1905–1925,’ Safundi: The Journal of South African and American Studies.

Featured Photograph: IWW design dates from the 1910s.

What is Critical Agrarian Studies?

By A. Haroon Akram-Lodhi

When Marc Edelman and Wendy Wolford (2017) published Critical Agrarian Studies: An Introduction, it represented a significant intervention to seek to realign a number of heterodox strands of rural development theory and practice into a pluralist field of study, action and advocacy. It is, for example, notable that none of the references to their article actually contained the phrase ‘critical agrarian studies.’ A Google Ngram – which is an online search engine that records the frequencies of search terms – for critical agrarian studies for the period between 1900 and 2008 reveals precisely zero ngrams, which begs the question: what is critical agrarian studies? The phrase itself has its most direct origin in the creation, in 2009, of the Initiatives in Critical Agrarian Studies (ICAS) at the International Institute of Social Studies (ISS) in The Hague. The Initiative describes itself as:

a community of like-minded critical scholars, development practitioners and movement activists from different parts of the world who are working on agrarian issues. It responds to the need for an initiative that builds and focuses on linkages and advocates a mutually reinforcing co-production and mutually beneficial sharing of knowledge.

What is striking about this description is that it does not actually state what is meant by critical agrarian studies. In this light, Edelman and Wolford’s paper represents the first attempt to try and map out the meaning of the field and, as such, it ambitiously seeks to shape the future of scholarship, practice and activism in the broader field of rural international development studies. This note seeks to summarize and assess the main contribution of Edelman and Wolford, as a means of framing the proposed structure of The Edward Elgar Handbook of Critical Agrarian Studies.

Why “critical”?

Edelman and Wolford stress that ‘critical frameworks … call into question dominant paradigms.’ In rural international development studies, the dominant paradigm remains, in essence, modernization theory, which first emerged in the 1950s. As they might note, modernization theory is predicated on a dualism: that “traditional” small-scale subsistence-oriented agriculture must be transformed into “modern” capital-intensive market-oriented agriculture, and that this requires that the bulk of farmers eventually seek out off-farm livelihoods as waged workers or entrepreneurs in manufacturing and services. This approach to rural development remains hegemonic within the management of the World Bank; it is implicit within some strands of the United Nations such as divisions of the Food and Agriculture Organization; it lies behind the contemporary teaching of agricultural economics in most universities around the world; and in many corners of the developing world, it is the foundation upon which ministries of agriculture operate.

Critical agrarian studies does not accept this orthodox narrative, suggesting that the values that underpin it are predicated on the need to subsume everything to the market, most particularly land, labour and money (Polanyi 1957). These values are associated with modernity but are historically such recent social constructions that they are a dramatic break with the past, in that the forms of knowledge they promote are not open-ended but rather closed-off. While neoclassical economics is the obvious example of a closed body of knowledge, it is, within social theory, far from the only one. The rise of quantitative sociology and quantitative political science is predicated upon a social-scientific method that assumes rationality and methodological individualism and in so doing not only closes off the manifest complexity of social relationships but also forcibly homogenizes that which is heterogeneous. Therefore, closed bodies of knowledge make historically-constructed social structures appear to be the way societies must be ordered.

It is therefore necessary to return

to the use of concepts that describe the world as empirically given, to the assumptions and beliefs that underlie these concepts, and to the creation of theories that seek to explain the realities of the current order of things … (When) reality is the baseline for theory, and theory is tested against further empirical research … social analysis is scientific in the broadest sense of the term (Veltmeyer 2011: 1).

Thus, the identification and analysis of biases within dominant paradigms in social science is done in order to construct “alternative forms of knowing and of acting in the world” (Edelman and Wolford 2017: 4) that are a better reflection of the lived realities of people. In contemporary rural worlds, this is the purpose of critical agrarian studies.

From peasant studies to critical agrarian studies

The origin of critical agrarian studies lies in peasant studies, which as a distinct field of investigation emerged during the 1960s and early 1970s rooted in a triptych of complementary but distinct epistemological approaches: theories of agrarian change derived from the classical analysis of the so-called “agrarian question” (Akram-Lodhi and Kay 2010); quantitative analysis of large farm-level agricultural data sets that featured in the analysis of the Organization and Production School (Chayanov 1986), the Agrarian Marxists (Cox and Littlejohn 2015) and the Indian “mode of production” debate (Patnaik 1990); and the finely-grained, intimately detailed ethnographic analysis that featured in the work of a host of anthropologists who often took their initial impetus from the work of such luminaries as Eric Wolf, Maurice Godelier, Jack Goody and Sidney Mintz.

To put it simply, but not simplistically: in peasant studies agrarian political economy framed the central research questions, quantitative data provided the “what”, and ethnography provided the “why”. Cumulatively, powerful explanations of social change in rural societies around the world were established in the peasant studies literature.

In the past 25 years this triptych has, to a degree, unraveled. There can be little doubt that rural research framed by the central concerns of the agrarian question has declined as social science orthodoxies replace critical analysis, particularly in undergraduate university degrees. Moreover, the quantitative analysis of large data sets has now become the preserve of resolutely neoclassical economists, who have shaped statistical tools to reflect their concerns, in ways that can seriously compromise the reliability of the data that is collected and the resulting analysis that is produced. Finally, contemporary ethnographers are less interested in the rural, and those that face significant personal, professional and financial constraints if they want to engage in the serious long-term work of understanding the detailed nuances of a rural social formation and the processes of change within which it is enmeshed.

The recent emergence of critical agrarian studies as a field of study is a response to the unraveling of this triptych. Its key point of departure is to move beyond the individual and recognize the social dimensions of identity, in the form of class analysis, however classes are defined. Thus, how agrarian classes are historically and contemporarily formed, reproduced, transformed and cease to be is a central component of its analytical framework. Moreover, class analysis needs to be multidimensional, identifying and exploring the cultural, ecological, social, political and economic factors and forces that facilitate or impede class formation. This common point of departure is then, according to Edelman and Wolford (2017), reinforced by three shared assumptions. The first is that dualist categories of rural and urban, or town and country, which are so common with orthodox dominant paradigms are, in the 21st century, not appropriate. Rather, the rural and the urban are mutually constitutive of each other, and thus interdependent components of a whole social formation. The second is that an analysis of actually-existing rural societies cannot just focus on what was, within the agrarian question literature, an evaluation of the political economy of production, distribution, accumulation, consumption and the structural and institutional governance of these stocks and flows, but must also, critically, integrate within its arguments the cultural dynamics of these stocks and flows. This is because “relations and tensions within and between … groups” (Edelman and Wolford 2017: 8), including but not exclusively classes, will reflect and affect cultural dynamics.  Thirdly, and finally, assessing any historical or actually-existing agrarian society must reflect the “political culture” (Edelman and Wolford 2017: 8) of those societies. Edelman and Wolford highlight interactions between men and women over generations, as well as interactions between the rural and the urban.

In this light, critical agrarian studies remains firmly rooted in ‘agrarian questions’: whether, and if so, how, the transformation of rural society is taking place in ways that are socially, economically and ecologically detrimental to female and male small-scale farmers. As has been nicely stated by Henry Bernstein (2010), empirically evaluating actually-existing agrarian questions requires focusing upon four central questions of agrarian political economy: 1. who owns what? 2. who does what? 3. who gets what? 4. what do they do with it? These four questions align with changes in: agricultural production, most notably the distribution of assets, the capture of the benefits of technical change by social forces, and processes of commodification; the accumulation that emerges out of changing technical coefficients of production; and the political implications, across a myriad variety of forms, of changing patterns of production and growth. Cumulatively, these changes may or may not facilitate the rural transformation that is the object of knowledge and the purpose of action and advocacy.

However, critical agrarian studies has a much broader approach to agrarian questions, reflective of its more open and pluralist lines of enquiry. Its foundation, it appears to me, is to base its theory and its empirics, in some way, within varieties of structure versus agency. Structure, in this regard, refers to recurring arrangements that influence, and so limit, the opportunities and hence choices of individuals. Agency is the capacity of individuals to act autonomously in the choices that they make. So, the structure versus agency debate within development sociology concerns the extent to which behaviour reflects the continuum of possibilities from the dictates of social structure and the socialization of individuals to the complete autonomy of free individuals. In actually-existing structure and agency situations, power is asymmetrical and relational, and thus critical agrarian studies seeks to uncover the sources of social power. While assets and their distribution may be an important determinant of power, as in agrarian questions, critical agrarian studies stresses the intersectionality of structure and agency, and in so doing, does not exclusively focus upon assets and their distribution as the sole basis or expression of power.

Indeed, this helps explain why the phrase ‘critical agrarian studies’ has emerged. As Edelman and Wolford note, the ‘institutional forms’ that critical agrarian studies takes are epitomized by The Journal of Peasant Studies and the Journal of Agrarian Change. Both these journals were founded by Terence J. Byres, who then later co-edited both with Henry Bernstein. Under their editorships, both journals utilized explicitly Marxist theoretical frameworks to frame the empirical studies that they published. However, when the editorship of The Journal of Peasant Studies passed to Saturnino M. Borras, Jr., the journal adopted a more pluralist heterodox standpoint, continuing to publish papers within an explicitly Marxist framework but also publishing work rooted in critical non-Marxist social theory that nonetheless was rooted within a structure – agency framework. This greater diversity within the ranks of engaged scholar-activists serves to broaden the field of critical agrarian studies, make possible conversations rather than polemics, while at the same time, it must be said, making it more broadly acceptable within the United States, where international development studies more generally is both underdeveloped as a field of study while at the same time being dominated by liberal orthodoxies.

It is worth reflecting, finally, how critical agrarian studies differs from peasant studies and the investigation of agrarian questions, as typified by the content of The Journal of Peasant Studies between 1973 and the creation of the Journal of Agrarian Change in 2001. Here, it is possible to identify three specific analytical differences. First, the analysis of large data sets is fundamentally absent from much – but not all – of critical agrarian studies. This reflects, secondly, a reduced emphasis on economic analysis, as this terrain has, unfortunately, been ceded to orthodox neoclassical economics, and a far greater emphasis on the social, political and cultural insights that can be gathered from nuanced and granular ethnographic and sociological investigations. Thirdly, critical agrarian studies embeds its analysis within the context of more global processes: the food regime, which are the international relations of food production and consumption that can be directly linked to forms of accumulation on a global scale.

In providing this macro and global context, critical agrarian studies goes significantly beyond the terrain of peasant studies as it developed in the 1970s through the 1990s. It connects the local to the global, in terms of both structures and agency, and this, in an era of neoliberal globalization, allows it to ask a broader set of questions beyond those of the agrarian question, which focuses upon rural class formation, in order to point toward alternatives. Indeed, this may well be the reason critical agrarian studies should be considered to be a distinct field. It is clearly the case that the historical and contemporary transition from country to town have forcefully impacted upon the character of a number of crises evident around the world and which will continue to play out through the 21st century. Some of these crises are global in character: access to food, climate change and migration, to name three. However, these global crises take singular and specific forms and characteristics around the rural world, rendering global crises as local agrarian crises. Four aspects of local agrarian crises around the rural world can in particular be identified, for they are essentially global in nature:

the global crisis of the peasant economy, processes of de-agrarianization, and the rise of precarious and feminized waged labour in the countryside

land concentration, land grabbing and the rise of agro-industrial capital

the financialization of food and agriculture

the undermining of the biophysical foundations of agriculture

In terms of resolving these local agrarian crises and moving forward toward the creation of alternatives, there are five key domains in which scholar-activists engaged in critical agrarian studies need to build knowledge:

the extent, manifestations and impacts of rural poverty and inequality, about which remarkably little is known, particularly with regard to rural inequality

the mechanics of pro-poor gender-responsive redistributive agrarian reform

the regulation of politically-constructed asset, input, output and labour markets so that they do not favour the powerful but can work for the poor

further increasing agricultural productivity through agroecology

constructing a global and local food system based on food sovereignty

In this way, critical agrarian studies is in fact part of a movement for a new set of political, civil, economic and social arrangements predicated upon the rights of individuals as citizens and self-identifying collectivities of people to express their agency against the structures that constrain them.

References

Akram-Lodhi, A H (2010) ‘Land, labour and agrarian transition in Vietnam’, Journal of Agrarian Change 10 (4): 564 – 580.

Akram-Lodhi, A H and Kay, C (2010) ‘Surveying the agrarian question (part 1): unearthing foundations, exploring diversity’, The Journal of Peasant Studies 37 (1): 177 – 202.

Barker, C (2005) Cultural Studies: Theory and Practice. London: Sage.

Bernstein, H (2010) Class Dynamics of Agrarian Change. Halifax and Winnipeg: Fernwood Books.

Chayanov, A V (1986) The Theory of Peasant Economy (edited by D. Thorner, B. Kerblay and R.E.F. Smith). Manchester: Manchester University Press.

Cox. T and Littlejohn, G (eds.) (2015) Kritsman and the Agrarian Marxists. London: Routledge.

Edelman, M and Wolford, W (2017) ‘Critical Agrarian Studies in theory and practice’, Antipode doi: 10.1111/anti.12326.

Oya, C and Pontara, N (eds) (2015) Rural Wage Employment in Developing Countries: Theory, Evidence and Policy. London: Routledge

Patnaik, U (ed.) (1990) Agrarian Relations and Accumulation: The “Mode of Production” Debate in India. Mumbai: Sameeksha Trust.

van der Ploeg, J D (2013) Peasants and the Art of Farming: A Chayanovian Manifesto. Halifax and Winnipeg: Fernwood Books.

Polanyi, K (1957) The Great Transformation: The Political and Economic Origins of Our Time. Boston: Beacon Press.

Veltmeyer, H (2011) ‘Section 1: Introduction’ in Veltmeyer, H (ed.) The Critical Development Studies Handbook: Tools for Change. Halifax and Winnipeg: Fernwood Books.

Haroon Akram-Lodhi is Professor of International Development Studies and Chair of the Department of International Development Studies at Trent University, Peterborough, Canada.  

Featured Photograph:  A woman in famine hit Eastern Uganda sells vegetables (David Oduut, 30 January, 2017).

ROAPE Workshop: Dar es Salaam, Tanzania

Imperialism in Africa today: the place of class struggles and progressive politics

(co-hosted by ROAPE and the Nyerere Resource Centre)

Council Chamber, University of Dar es Salaam (16-17 April 2018)

Objective

The broad objective of the Workshop is to have two-days intensive reflections among radical political economy scholars and progressive activists to take stock of the actually existing conditions in Africa in the context of the current phase of neo-liberal imperialism and how progressive forces can effectively intervene/participate in and promote progressive politics during the current conjuncture.

Format

Around 65 participants will be invited, roughly about 30 from Tanzania, 10 from East Africa outside Tanzania (Kenya, Uganda, Rwanda, Burundi), 15 from Africa outside East Africa and 10 from outside the continent. There will be three panels, two on the first day, one on the second day followed by a Public Lecture and workshop dinner open to the public.

Panelists are not expected to prepare written papers; instead, they will speak from their own talking notes. Panel presentations will be followed by plenary discussions and the chair/moderator is expected to broadly guide the discussions by allowing participants to spend sufficient time to present their arguments in the style of dialogue/conversation.

Panels and Themes

Day 1

Session I

Summing up the Accra Workshop – Yao Graham

Session II

Panel 1: Imperialism and the state of class struggle in Africa

As the title suggests, the idea is for the panelists to trace in broad strokes the character of contemporary imperialism and its varied manifestations in the context of trajectories of accumulation. Panelists are urged to tease out the impact of imperialism on internal class struggles and the potential for building solidarity across the continent and the world.

Moderator:   Godwin Murunga

Panellists:     Lee Wengraf (lead panelist)

                        Faisal Garba Muhammed

                        Dzodzi Tsikata

                        Tafadzwa Choto

                        Ernest Wamba dia Wamba

Panel 2: Legacy of Russian Revolution and Arusha Declaration

To explore the social forces and alliances behind the Russian Revolution and the Arusha Declaration, ensuing struggles and weak links that account for their subsequent trajectory and ultimate defeat.

Moderator:   Ng’wanza Kamata

Panelists:      Samir Amin (lead panelist)

                        Lutz Brangsch

                        Noosim Naimasiah

                        Matt Swaggler

                        Issa Shivji

 

Day 2

The second day will have two sessions. Session 1 from 9.00 to 12.00 will be Panel 3. After tea break there will be session II from 1.00 to 3.00 which will be a summing up session. Issa Shivji and Peter Lawrence will co-chair the summing-up session and the lead speaker will be Yao Graham and Ray Bush.

At 5.00 pm there will be a public lecture open to the public followed by the launch of Lee Wengraf’s Extracting Profit and finally the workshop dinner.

Session 1

Panel 3: The State of Progressive Politics in Africa Today: Organization Forms and the Agents of Social Transformation

With a view of linking radical political economy analysis and activism to existing circumstances and conditions in Africa, participants will examine the nature and class character of the existing and emerging forms of organization, resistance and social movements. Participants will also explore alternative counter-hegemonic politics, which can influence efforts towards challenging neoliberal and elite monopolisation of political and economic power. Experiences from local and national activists and scholars, especially those at the forefront of organizing political and economic struggles in both rural and urban areas, will be shared. At the end of discussions, participants will consider whether the new progressive politics can emerge from existing sites of popular struggles and resistance in Africa and the role of Pan-Africanist ideas in the current struggles.

Moderator:    Mona Mwakalinga

Panellists:     Trevor Ngwane (lead panellist)

                        Amina Mama 

                        Sabatho Nyamsenda

                        Marjorie Mbilinyi

                        Gacheke Gachihi

Session II

Summing up the Dar es Salaam Workshop – Issa Shivji, Peter Lawrence, Yao Graham and Ray Bush

Public lecturePolitics of Economic Nationalism in Africa

Speaker: Adebayo Olukoshi

A significant number of African states are encountering a neo-liberal scramble for their resources particularly land, minerals, oil and gas.  Currently, there are vivid hotspots of popular resistance against the Western neo-liberal project for the re-colonization of Africa. Resistances are spearheaded by both rightist and leftist populisms and narrow nationalisms. It is in this context Olukoski will explore the intervention of progressive forces.

***

Critical Agrarian Studies on roape.net

African Farmers, Agrarian Transformation and Critical Agrarian Studies

By Ray Bush

The new page on roape.net Critical Agrarian Studies engages with the most important issue of our time: namely, how can we deliver food availability and accessibility at an ecological and financial cost affordable for Africa’s poor and in a way that is sustainable for the planet. This raises challenging empirical and theoretical issues of power dynamics in the production, distribution and exchange of food and over what types of food will be prioritised in a democratically organised global food regime.  It raises issues in the framework of world food systems on how food is managed by transnational as well as national corporate and economic actors and processes, and how their power and legitimacy can be challenged by social movements and rural resistance to among other things, contract farming, agribusiness, water, land and other asset privatisation. The page will also raise crucial themes linked to the organisation of food production on a local scale in rural communities and in African households. We will host analysis of social relations of production and reproduction, gendered divisions of labour and the interaction between rural classes and urban built environments.

These exciting and transformative agrarian questions will be examined in the context of the broad perspective of critical agrarian studies. This analytical frame captures how agrarian life and livelihoods shape and are shaped by the politics, economics and social worlds of modernity. We will post updates and analysis of rural struggles that help explore and explain how peasants and rural classes are struggling to promote the radical transformation of Africa. We encourage empirical case study blog-debates informed by radical theoretical perspectives that analyse the political economy of agrarian social classes, the pressures that help shape their social reproduction and their interactions with other social classes and forces.

To read the blogposts please click here. We welcome submissions from anyone who wants to contribute to the debate, please email the page editor, Ray Bush: r.c.bush@leeds.ac.uk

Chinua Achebe, Five Years On

By Remi Adekoya

Pioneers have a special place in history, especially in the history of the peoples they emerged from. Chinua Achebe will always inhabit a special place in the hearts of Africans for his historical role in planting African literature on the world map. While there were other talented African writers and intellectuals producing great work by the mid-20th century, Achebe’s 1958 debut novel Things Fall Apart was the first to command global attention, selling millions of copies and henceforth rendering it impossible to ignore or underestimate African literature.

Things Fall Apart proved that an African writer could successfully seize possession of the right to define Africans who up till then were mostly defined by white people. It is impossible to over-emphasize the psychological impact this had on aspiring writers in a colonized continent struggling to find its voice and its confidence. Princeton scholar Kwame Anthony Appiah put it aptly when he wrote that asking how Things Fall Apart influenced African writing “would be like asking how Shakespeare influenced English writers or Pushkin influenced Russians.” While Achebe himself resisted the crown foisted on him as the ‘father of African literature’, this is most likely how popular history will remember the great Nigerian novelist, poet and scholar who passed away five years ago today.

Set in the 1890s, Things Fall Apart was Achebe’s response to over-simplistic and often condescending European narratives of Africans, chronicling a crisis of identity experienced by his main protagonist Okonkwo, through whose eyes readers could envision the confusing and often tragic encounters of pre-colonial African communities with European colonialism and its arrogant attitudes to the cultures it encountered on the continent.

Achebe’s masterful moulding of the English language to suit his purposes of conveying popular concepts and worldviews embedded in his native Igbo culture became an inspiring example to other non-Western novelists on how to explain the cultural universes they inhabited to a world dominated by Western thought-paradigms and modes of expression.

Highlighting the disruptive nature of colonialism for African communities, David Whittaker explains, “Achebe created a narrative that placed the African at the historic centre of the colonial encounter, with the imperialistic Europeans as the usurping outsiders, whose intervention brings about cataclysmic upheaval for the traditional African civilization being colonized.”

Things Fall Apart kicked off a literary career spanning over half-a-century that remained firmly rooted in the realities and people of Achebe’s native Nigeria, revealing their rationalizations, proverbial wisdoms and cultural sensibilities while simultaneously chronicling the socio-economic and political evolution of the country promised to become the ‘Giant of Africa.’ While Things Fall Apart dealt with the realities of an Igbo community in colonial-era Nigeria, much of Achebe’s work in subsequent novels such as A Man of the People (1966) and Anthills of the Savannah (1987) dealt with the realities of post-colonial Nigeria, depicting complex characters struggling to find their way in an increasingly corrupt, ruthless and unjust society that was clearly not turning out to be what the country’s independence leaders had promised.

While the conflict between traditional values and modernism remained a recurring theme in Achebe’s later works, it was his confrontations with the increasingly venal political and social realities of post-colonial Nigeria that arguably present his most interesting writings for observers of contemporary African politics and socio-economics. Indeed, what is less popularly known about Achebe is that he became so disgusted with post-colonial Nigerian politics he decided, for a brief spell, to try and change things from within, joining the leftist Peoples Redemption Party (PRP) in the early 1980s, and becoming its deputy vice president in 1983.

While Achebe’s writings always acknowledged the material and structural impact of colonialism with the exploitative systems it left behind, his later books increasingly focussed, in characteristically frank unflinching manner, on the role of Nigerian agency in the failures of post-colonial Nigeria. In 1983, Achebe penned his most explicitly political book The Trouble with Nigeria in which he asserted categorically that “the trouble with Nigeria is simply and squarely a failure of leadership.” Fuming at the growing poverty and inequality in his country, Achebe offered a scathing review of Nigeria’s corrupt ruling elites and their remarkably deluded rhetoric:

One of the commonest manifestations of under-development is a tendency among the ruling elite to live in a world of make-believe and unrealistic expectations…Listen to Nigerian leaders and you will frequently hear the phrase this great country of ours. Nigeria is not a great country. It is one of the most disorderly nations in the world. It is one of the most corrupt, insensitive, inefficient places under the sun. It is one of the most expensive countries and one of those that give least value for money. It is dirty, callous, noisy, ostentatious, dishonest and vulgar. In short, it is among the most unpleasant places on earth!

It would have been difficult for Achebe to offer a more damning indictment of his beloved country 23 years into independence, attributing the megalomaniacal and fantastical assertions of its ruling elites to “a flamboyant imaginary self-concept.” Before going further, it is worth noting Nigeria was in much better socioeconomic shape when Achebe dished out this harsh criticism than it is today.

According to the country’s national bureau of statistics, in 1985, two years after Achebe offered his critical assessment, 46.3% of Nigerians lived in poverty. By 2010, that number had risen to 69%. Moreover, due to the country’s demographic boom, the statistics present even worse in absolute terms as the number of poor Nigerians grew from 34 million to 112 million during the same period. Meanwhile, a 2017 global index compiled by Oxfam and Development Finance International placed Nigeria last in a list of 152 countries ranked by their “commitment to reducing inequality” with “shamefully low” social spending on health, education and social protection, taking into consideration available resources.

Yet the self-satisfied delusions of grandeur and disconnect from reality which Achebe identified among Nigeria’s ruling elites in the 1980s remain alive and well today despite these decades of socioeconomic regression and appalling governance. Last month, in response to queries on why Nigeria, a country of almost 200 million people, produces only a tenth of the electricity South Africa produces (pop. 56 million) and thus undergoes constant power-outages, Minister for Power Babatunde Fashola argued that Nigeria produces more electricity than Rwanda (pop. 11 million) and Togo (pop. 7 million) so “stop putting yourself down, we are a great country.”

That a minister in a country where roughly 70% of the population lives in poverty has the gall to describe it as ‘great’ makes it difficult to comment without the use of expletives. But, of course, the minister has probably not slept in a house without a 24-hour stand-by generator for decades so he can’t really understand why anyone considers constant power outages such a big deal. His words simply reflect the complete disconnect between Nigeria’s ruling elites and the overwhelming majority of Nigerians who have to deal with the results of their failed governance.

It also reflects what Achebe aptly observed in The Trouble with Nigeria as the ‘spurious patriotism’ that is ‘one of the hallmarks of Nigeria’s privileged classes’ who are ‘incredibly blind.’ This has clearly not changed today. Describing the political class he observed from up close in the 1980s, Achebe asserted:

There are simply too many political actors on our stage whose prime purpose in grabbing power seems to be no higher than a desire to free themselves from every form of civilized restraint in their public and private lives.

He would repeat this argument in his last book There Was a Country published almost three decades later in 2012, the year before he died. While There Was a Country is primarily a personal memoir of the events surrounding Nigeria’s civil war and the Igbo-dominated break-away Republic of Biafra which Achebe supported, it was also an assessment of fifty-two years of Nigeria’s independence.

Achebe described the situation as much worse than in the 1980s when he had thought things were bad. Regarding corruption in 2012 Nigeria, he stated:

Twenty-eight years after that slim book [The Trouble with Nigeria] was published, I can state categorically that the problem of corruption and indiscipline is probably worse today than it’s ever been because of the massive way in which the Nigerian leadership is using the nation’s wealth to corrupt, really to destroy, the country, so no improvement or change can happen.

He cited the mind-boggling figure of $400 billion of oil revenue, which is estimated to have been stolen by Nigerian leaders since independence. While Achebe tried to portray Nigeria as salvageable, arguing “this is not a time to bemoan all the challenges ahead. It is a time to work at developing, nurturing, sustaining and protecting democracy and democratic institutions”, he also acknowledged the farcical nature of Nigerian democracy:

The question of choice in selecting a leader in Nigeria is often an academic exercise due to the election rigging, violence and intimidation of the general public, particularly by those in power, but also by those with the means, the rich and influential.

Addressing the issue of why Nigeria’s political elites have been getting away with robbing the country blind since independence without any serious resistance from the tens of millions of Nigerians condemned to extreme poverty as a result, he stated:

I am asked “Why don’t the people fight back?” Well, once a people have been disposed and subjugated by dictatorships for such a long time as in Nigeria’s case, the oppressive process also effectively strips away from the minds of the people the knowledge that they have rights.

Indeed, while on paper all Nigerians have rights, over the years most Nigerians have adapted to a reality in which state power is often brazenly and brutally deployed to subjugate the poorest and weakest citizens in the interests of the rich and powerful political class who constantly demonstrate they are above the law. Since they have been getting away with this for over half-a-century, the average Nigerian has come to accept that might is right and it is safer to bow before the powerful than provoke them into trampling all over you.

Ethnic antipathies and mistrust have rendered large-scale class-based organizations virtually impossible as such movements are easily divided by savvy ethnic entrepreneurs. In There Was a Country, Achebe despaired that his ethnic group the Igbos were so disliked in the country, “Nigerians will probably achieve consensus on no other matter than their common resentment of the Igbo.” While he may have overstated the case, anyone trying to assert ethnic antipathies have been overcome in Nigeria is engaging in the same kind of wishful thinking as the political leaders who claim Nigeria is a “great country.”

There is a strong human desire for happy endings to stories. We all like ultimately positive messages to help us feel optimistic about the future. But if truth be told in the frank manner Nigeria’s great literary icon favoured throughout his life, there was no happy ending to the story of Chinua Achebe. Perhaps to that of Chinua Achebe the immensely successful writer, but certainly not to that of Chinua Achebe, the Nigerian patriot and socialist. Here was a man whose first novel Things Fall Apart criticized European colonialism and its disruptive effects, only for his final book There Was a Country to recall British rule in Nigeria with a remarkable degree of nostalgia.

Here is a piece of heresy: The British governed their colony of Nigeria with considerable care. There was a very highly competent cadre of government officials imbued with a high level of knowledge of how to run a country…I am not justifying colonialism. But it is important to face the fact that British colonies, more or less, were expertly run.  

It is highly improbable Achebe would have felt the need to recall Nigeria as “expertly run” by the British if he had not been so terribly underwhelmed with how it was being run by his fellow Nigerians, a disappointment palpable throughout There Was a Country.

In the end, partially paralysed after a car accident on one of Nigeria’s terrible roads, Achebe spent the last two decades of his life an émigré in far-away America, choosing not to live in his home country which had become “one of the most unpleasant places on earth.” So, while we celebrate Achebe’s incredible accomplishments for African literature, let us not forget how much post-colonial Nigeria failed him and continues to fail the overwhelming majority of its citizens today. We owe the great man that bit of honesty.

Remi Adekoya is the former political editor of the Warsaw Business Journal. He has provided socio­-political commentary and analysis for BBC, Foreign Affairs, Foreign Policy, Stratfor, Geopolitical Intelligence Services and Radio France International among others. Remi is currently conducting PhD research in politics at the University of Sheffield and is a member of ROAPE’s editorial working group. His twitter handle is @RemiAdekoya1

Featured Photograph: Chinua Achebe on a bench in Umeå, Sweden, on 19 October 1988 (Roland Berggren, Västerbotten-Kuriren).

 

 

 

 

 

For 50 years, ROAPE has brought our readers pathbreaking analysis on radical African political economy in our quarterly review, and for more than ten years on our website. Subscriptions and donations are essential to keeping our review and website alive.
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For 50 years, ROAPE has brought our readers pathbreaking analysis on radical African political economy in our quarterly review, and for more than ten years on our website. Subscriptions and donations are essential to keeping our review and website alive.
We use cookies to collect and analyse information on site performance and usage, and to enhance and customise content. By clicking into any content on this site, you agree to allow cookies to be placed. To find out more see our