4.5 stars.
This was a really interesting read by an incredibly sharp and insightful Marxist and Pan-Africanist, who had a really remarkable grasp of global imperialism. I really loved David Austin’s piece on Rodney included in this book that goes a bit into the Montreal history of Black radicalism:
“I first encountered The Groundings with My Brothers as a high school student in the late 1980s, at Third World Books and Crafts in Toronto. I was finding my way in the world, and reading Walter Rodney alongside Malcolm X, Frantz Fanon and C. L. R. James was a crucial part of my political and intellectual development. As a child of Jamaican parents, and as someone who had been attuned to Jamaican politics at an early age, I was struck by Rodney’s acute analysis of Jamaican society. But the impact of The Groundings on me went even further, influencing my decision to study in Montreal, the city where I had spent part of my childhood. The move was motivated by the discovery that three of The Groundings’ chapters were based on speeches that Rodney delivered in Montreal during and just after the historic Congress of Black Writers (11–14 October 1968), and I wanted to discover why this city had been such an important site of black radical politics, a phenomenon that I have since explored.
In 1968 Walter Rodney was an academic who, despite his youthful twenty-six years of age, had already established a name for himself in Tanzania, England and Jamaica as a first-class historian. But it was politics that brought Rodney to Montreal, and his participation in the Congress of Black Writers was not only important for the event but also marked a significant turning point in his political life when the coincidence of his participation in the Congress and his expulsion from Jamaica by the government of Hugh Shearer thrust Rodney onto the international stage.”
Rodney had really interesting comments of the social place and class loyalties Chinese communities within the Caribbean had relative to others elsewhere, reminding me of something a British colonial administrator Robert Townsend Farquhar wrote about the prospects of bringing Chinese labour into the Caribbean to replace slave labour, both about the anxieties that “the Chinese will soon assimilate with the slaves, and become their partizans in case of insurrection” but colonial objectives that would ensure the opposite would happen: “…if, after all, insurrection, from whatever cause, among the Negro slaves should take place, the planter might always with certainty depend upon the assistance of the Chinese labourers, who would thus form a barrier between him and the discontented Negroes.”
This helps contextualize what Rodney says about the Chinese diaspora within the Caribbean who had taken the role of reactionary colonial allies, as the British had always hoped they would, when constructing racial hierarchies within colonial policy:
“The Chinese, on the other hand, are a former labouring group who have now become bastions of white West Indian social structure. The Chinese of the People’s Republic of China have long broken with and are fighting against white imperialism, but our Chinese have nothing to do with that movement. They are to be identified with Chiang Kai-shek and not Chairman Mao Tse-tung. They are to be put in the same bracket as the lackeys of capitalism and imperialism who are to be found in Hong Kong and Taiwan. Whatever the circumstances in which the Chinese came to the West Indies, they soon became (as a group) members of the exploiting class. They will have either to relinquish or be deprived of that function before they can be reintegrated into a West Indian society where the black man walks in dignity”
Rodney also had a very fascinating analysis of how the Christian faith intersected with racial politics and the history of white supremacy that imperialism upheld:
“That is why Black Power advocates find it necessary to assert that BLACK IS BEAUTIFUL. The most profound revelation of the sickness of our society on the question of race is our respect for all the white symbols of the Christian religion. God the Father is white, God the Son is white, and presumably God the Holy Ghost is white also. The disciples and saints are white, all the Cherubim, Seraphim and angels are white – except Lucifer, of course, who was black, being the embodiment of evil. When one calls upon black people to reject these things, this is not an attack on the teachings of Christ or the ideals of Christianity. What we have to ask is ‘Why should Christianity come to us all wrapped up in white?’ The white race constitutes about 20 per cent of the world’s population, and yet nonwhite peoples are supposed to accept that all who inhabit the heavens are white. There are 650 million Chinese, so why shouldn’t God and most of the angels be Chinese? The truth is that there is absolutely no reason why different racial groups should not provide themselves with their own religious symbols. A picture of Christ could be red, white or black, depending upon the people who are involved. When Africans adopt the European concept that purity and goodness must be painted white and all that is evil and damned is to be painted black, then we are flagrantly self-insulting.”
Rodney actually discusses Christian history in Africa quite a bit in Chapter 4, particularly the tradition as it developed in Ethiopia, and it was extremely interesting. One thing I especially enjoyed was his analysis of the Rastafari and I have been looking for a Marxist interpretation of that tradition, and Rodney provides a fascinating take on it:
“And even when there were not great leaders present, the mass of the people have constantly been acting against this system. In our epoch the Rastafari have represented the leading force of this expression of black consciousness. They have rejected this philistine white West Indian society. They have sought their cultural and spiritual roots in Ethiopia and Africa. So that whether there is a big flare-up or not, there is always the constant activity of the black people who perceive that the system has nothing in it for them, except suppression and oppression.
Now the government is terribly afraid of the question of colour. This is something I’ve learned from living in Jamaica for a period of time. They would much rather you talk about Communism, so that they could tell country people, ‘He is a Communist, he wants to take your goats and chickens,’ and do those Jamaican peasants want you to take their goats? No man! And they are very right, too, so what government men are afraid of is the question of colour. They are afraid of that tremendous historical experience of the degradation of the black man being brought to the fore. They do not want anybody to challenge their myth about ‘Out of many, one people’ and a harmonious multiracial society, and they show it in various ways. They will ban people from coming to the country like James Foreman, Stokely Carmichael. They will ban the literature of Malcolm X, Elijah Mohammad, Stokely Carmichael. The black Jamaican government, in case you do not know it, have banned all publications by Stokely Carmichael, publications by Elijah Mohammad, all publications by Malcolm X. I hope Stokely does not go and write a book on cookery or some such thing. It would be banned in Jamaica.”
Finally, the Verene Shepherd piece included near the end of the book was also just excellent! She’s one of my heroes. I learned a lot from her about women in the 1831-32 Christmas war of liberation, and Shepherd was also the one who wrote the UN letter demanding a stop to TMX and CGL pipelines until full, prior, and informed consent was received from Indigenous peoples whose lands those projects traverse. A lesson that imperialism and colonial dominance is still ongoing, and hence why Rodney is still a remarkably relevant Black Marxist voice we should pay attention to in this moment of struggle.