NOTA BENE: I am a close friend of a grandchild of Nkrumah, so my review is biased.
I came to the book because I was going to Ghana to visit my friend and, well, I thought I should do some research!
That's a joke, but it's also true. I did read it as an intro to the trip, and it was the weirdest choice, obviously. Lonely planet would have served me better lol.
Life has a way of making things go this way though: and I've read Consciencism three times now, and still have to google how to spell the name of the book, damnit.
During the first months of lockdown in 2020, with that friend, and another one, we spoke quite a bit about the book, trying to go through the chapters. I put our conversations down in writing, wanting to make a sort of essay about it, but did nothing with it - it wasn't good enough - so some of the ideas of this review come from those convos.
To the book.
I think the writing is gorgeous: considering the date of writing, and the object of the book, maaan Nkrumah had style. So it was fun to read, in any case.
It is the book of a logician, a logician who applied his strategic abilities to politics, indeed to post-colonial politics. So, crucially, it is the book of a philospher, an african philosopher, who grew up under colonialism, and who came to lead his country as a statesman, and became the ambassador for a particular branch of post-colonial thought - panafricanism - which also pervades the book. These are the most important aspects of the book, I think.
In terms of leadership, indeed revolutionary leadership, there is much wisdom there - "revolutions are brought about by men [sic], by men who think as men of action and act as men of thought". Not merely to lead people towards some goal, but to seek in the depth of the human person those qualities which people, all people, wish to see brought forward in the world. To lead, to argue, to fight, to prove that one's positions are right - and that they can only be *right* if they, truly, stem from some real human suffering.
Nkrumah was a universalist. He followed Mazzini, intellectually. Indeed, the fact that I - a european in 2021 - can follow the ideas, show their universal reach. But *he was* an african. He wrote to his people, provoking them to match white european thought. He deeply admired the Western canon. He knew that the western world has succeeded not simply to produce great intellectual thought, but to produce it reliably, durably, throughout history, and to protect it thanks to its institutions and its laws. He knew this - and fuck, it must have been hard to know: imagine that the evil colonial states, who could so carelessly inflict the wounds of the slave trade, of extorsion, of murder, that *they* would also be the ones who grew the fruits that could heal the world of these evils.
His clarity on this shines, because resentment would have been much easier, and to me it shows that accusations of tyranny are mistaken. There were mistakes, and injustices: maybe even grave ones. Probably Nkrumah did take too power on himself - but the intentions were not those of a power hungry tyrant, wishing to dominate like royalty. Remember my bias of course but come on, read the book and you'll see it. Read it thinking about the several assassination attempts, about the american intrusion of power, about the crazy Cold War, about.. you get it.
Nkrumah clearly cared firstly about philosophy, more than politics: like Churchill and the nobel for literature, I am convinced this book was the one Nkrumah cared most about, in the sense that this was him catching his ideas in writing as best he could, and every political act that he then took became a consequence of this writing, this thinking. I suspect he had something to prove: that a black african man could also produce a deep and meaningful work of philosophy. Maybe he wanted it a bit *too much* and was maybe rushed in some of the writing, as if the book came out too early, prematurely - but maybe, instead, it's that I will just never understand what it was like back then.
And maybe it's the almost Bakunian history retelling of the first chapters - transgressively radical, particularly for the date of writing - but I feel that the book is also a field manual: a pamphelt, a manifesto, to be kept in the tents and read at nightfall before battle, dirty with notes, dreams, protests, questions. Or maybe it's just me dreaming. Maybe I'm young, foolish, a dreamer, someone who should grow up, maybe I just feel that since the 1970s the western world has stagnated, that real growth is vanishing, that if you don't "do tech" you might as well "do drugs", because what else is gonna rock your world? Maybe I think we're running out of ideas, pulling societies apart because we lack the wealth to be charitable, we degrade values, ecologies, and fuck allow thiefs to run our banks, our parliaments. Maybe.
In any case, I think it's a book for every young person - dare I say it? especially, every young man - who looks for a model of a man who battled the demons of oppression, *thought* - not to prove some academic quibble - but because he found it fun, exciting and because he knew that thinking is a right to be fought for, not something that's a given, something he knew on his skin, his black skin, and which opens portals of meaning and depth, and for which it is right to fight.
Thanks for your time.