A Good Man in Africa by William Boyd (1981)

It was a full time job getting your own back on the world, he reasoned; you couldn’t afford to weaken…

It made him sick, he hated every fucking one of them…

His scalp crawled with hatred…
(Morgan Leafy, the comic antihero of A Good Man in Africa, in characteristically misanthropic mode, on pages 51, 72 and 236)

This was Boyd’s first novel, published in 1981. Since then he’s gone on to write an enormous amount – 17 novels, five short story collections, three plays and an impressive 16 movie screenplays. His novels have been translated into 30 languages and he was awarded a CBE in 2005. This, ladies and gentlemen, is what success looks like for a British writer.

Public school

Like so many Brits who write about the British Empire, Boyd was born in a then-imperial colony (Gold Coast / Ghana) where he spent his boyhood before being packed off to one of the best public schools back in Blighty and so on to Oxbridge. Let’s just quote his Wikipedia article to get the facts out of the way:

Boyd was born in 1952 in Accra, capital of the Gold Coast, (present-day Ghana) to Scottish parents, both from Fife. His father – Alexander, a doctor specialising in tropical medicine – and mother – a teacher – moved to the Gold Coast in 1950 to run the health clinic at the University College of the Gold Coast, now the University of Ghana. In the early 1960s the family moved to western Nigeria, where Boyd’s father held a similar position at the University of Ibadan. Boyd spent his early life in Ghana and Nigeria but, at the age of nine, went to a preparatory school and then to Gordonstoun school in Scotland; after that, to the University of Nice in France, followed by the University of Glasgow (where he gained an M.A. in English and Philosophy) and finally Jesus College, Oxford.

A Good Man in Africa

A Good Man in Africa is a comedy, in the tradition of Kingsley Amis and the umpteen other British comic writers who specialise in novels about bumbling, fat, drunken, lecherous English plonkers. The book’s comic antihero, Morgan Leafy, is a fat (15 stone), bumbling drunk with a chip on his shoulder against the whole world, who gets into all kinds of comic scrapes.

Leafy works for the Foreign Office’s Diplomatic Corps and has been posted for nearly three years to a city called Nkongsamba, the only town of any size in a small state of a fictional West African country named Kinjanja, ‘a godforsaken, insignificant spot’ (p.27). All the serious embassies and consulates are in the capital, four hours’ drive away ‘on a deathtrap road’ (p.35).

Leafy is consumed by anger, hatred and vengeful thoughts against everyone. He dislikes his immediate boss at the British Deputy High Commission, the Deputy High Commissioner Arthur Fanshawe (I think Deputy High Commission indicates that it’s not the main High Commission, which is off in the capital), and absolutely loathes his immediate junior, Secondary Secretary Richard ‘Dickie’ Dalmire. The latter because he has enjoyed all the advantages in life which Leafy didn’t, namely: public school, Oxford, owns a property in the UK (inherited), was given a place abroad immediately after passing the Foreign Office exams, unlike Leafy who had to repeatedly retake the exams, eventually only scraping through, and then being allotted a godawful job in Kingsway.

The novel opens with Leafy’s resentful anger reaching nuclear proportions, because his enemy, ‘Dickie’ Dalmire, has just popped into his office to casually tell him that he, Dalmire, is engaged to the lovely Priscilla, daughter of their boss, Fanshawe. Leafy had taken Priscilla out a few times and thought he was still in a chance for her hand, so his resentment and jealousy goes off the scale. While trying to appear calm during the conversation, he imagines a nuclear bomb falling on Nkongsamba and incinerating everyone (p.19). He even hates the sun because all the other Brits develop lovely, even tans, but the tropical sun just brings Leafy out in thousands of disjointed freckles and a rash (p.19).

Date

At one point Leafy says his widow’s peak risks making him look like one of those ‘demented American marines, currently wasting the inhabitants of South-East Asia’ (p.43); later he picks up a magazine at the airport which contains photos of GIs in Vietnam (p.96) and mentions how the Americans are tied up in Vietnam (p.184). Now, since the last American soldier left Vietnam in March 1973 the novel must be set before then, in the early 1970s (?)

Cast

Page references are either to where a character first appears or, more often, to a page with a good first description.

  • Morgan Leafy, First Secretary at the High Commission in Nkongsamba, comic antihero, failure, inadequate, seething with anger and frustration at the endless humiliations he seems to be subjected to – ‘scathing misanthropy’ (p.19), ‘selfish, fat and misanthropic’ (p.66)
  • Richard ‘Dickie’ Dalmire, his junior at the High Commission, mid-twenties (p.51)
  • Deputy High Commissioner Arthur Fanshawe (p.29)
  • Priscilla Fanshawe, the Deputy High Commissioner’s attractive daughter (p.32), first impressions (p.98), Leafy is obsessed with her magnificent pert breasts which compensate for her ‘ski lift nose’
  • Denzil Jones, the (Welsh) Commission accountant, shiny fat face, pale sickly wife and two pale sickly kids, Gareth and Bronwyn (p.52)
  • Dr Alex Murray, Head of the Nkongsamba University Health Service and physician to the Commission (pages 47 and 58)
  • Sam Adekunle, Professor of Economics and Business Management at the University of Nkongsamba, and leading figure in the Kinjanjan National Party (KNP), a big man given to wearing traditional costume, perfect English tinged with American from Harvard Business School (p.56) owner of muttonchop whiskers (p.116), beefy, he looks like an African Henry VIII
  • Kojo, Leafy’s secretary/assistant, a small Roman Catholic with three children (p.23)
  • Peter, Commission driver
  • Mrs Bryce, wife of a geologist at the university who acts as Fanshawe’s secretary
  • Chloe Fanshawe, wife of the Deputy High Commissioner
  • Moses, one of Leafy’s two servants, his ‘aged cook’ (p.63)
  • Friday, Leafy’s servant (p.35) from Dahomey (modern-day Benin), early 20s, speaks French and erratic English (p.50), ‘hopelessly inept’ (p.64)
  • Hazel, Leafy’s Black mistress (p.39)
  • Selim, the Lebanese boutique owner who Leafy rents a very basic flat from as accommodation for his mistress, Hazel (p.38)
  • Geraldine Jones, friend of Priscilla Fanshawe (p.53)
  • Innocence, Fanshawe’s servant who is killed by a freak bolt of lightning
  • Isaac, Commission’s doorman and general factotum (p.73) involved in the Innocence fiasco
  • Lee Wan, Malay, now a naturalised British citizen and bar buddy of Leafy’s (p.87)
  • Femi Robinson, angry little Marxist and representative of the People’s Party of Kinjanja (p.113)
  • Chief Mabegun, governor of the state and head of the local branch of the United Party of Kinjanjan People, the party in government (p.113)
  • Celia Adekunle, Sam’s sullen wife (p.114)

Leafy overflows with inappropriate thoughts: he’s continually wondering what people look like when they have sex. Or fantasising about a nuclear bomb falling on Nkongsamba and incinerating everyone. When the Deputy High Commissioner’s wife calls, announcing herself as Chloe, Leafy is momentarily at a loss placing her:

The mental lapse came about because Morgan never thought of her as Chloe, and only seldom as Mrs Fanshawe. Usually the kindest epithets were the Fat Bitch or the Old Bag. (p.24)

Or his feelings for his boss:

He found it hard to fix or even identify his feelings about Fanshawe: they wavered between the three poles of nostril-wrinkling contempt, total indifference and temple-throbbing irritation… (p.27)

You can see how the comedy is based on the principle of exorbitance, defined as: ‘excessiveness, a situation when there’s an unreasonable amount of something, or when a person acts outrageously’ – the excessiveness being Leafy’s continual, overdriven anger and irritation at everyone and everything.

  • Morgan agreed, thinking: the conniving covert little bastard. (p.32)
  • The stupid mad shit, he thought wrathfully (p.67)
  • Fine, Morgan thought blackly, well, you can stick your advice up your tight Scottish arse… (p.95)
  • What in hell’s name, he asked himself, was the old goat bleating on about? (p.101)
  • … thinking that Fanshawe was a stupid, meddling old berk (p.115)
  • Shut up you stupid Welsh git, Leafy swore under his breath (p.117)
  • That stupid old fool Fanshawe, he railed to himself… (p.143)
  • Bloody rude black bastard, Morgan seethed to himself… (p.143)

Mind you, the universal rage this kind of personality vents at everybody is often rooted in anger and disappointment against themselves and Leafy is just as prolific with self-hatred:

  • Why did he have to sound so cretinous, he wondered. (p.30)
  • Why did Murray bring out the arsehole in him? (p.48)
  • It [Murray’s voice] made Morgan feel a fool, cretinous. (p.80)
  • He felt a complete fool… (p.94)
  • He felt ashamed at his ineptitude, his clumsy inability… He shook his head in despair… He gritted his teeth with shame and embarrassment… (p.117)
  • He had been made to look a complete fool (p.144)

According to Freud depression is a kind of anger against the self for failing to live up to the impossibly demanding ideals of the superego set for us by our superegos. Leafy seems a textbook example.

He’d handled everything so badly, misjudged and miscalculated all round. Par for the course, he thought cynically, no point in breaking the pattern. (p.82)

He is either seething with out-of-control rage against everyone else (‘he fumed inwardly’, p.29), or redirecting that rage against himself, triggering inconsolable depression, a leaden moroseness:

  • He stared morosely at the dragon-patterned rugs on the Fanshawes’ floor (p.30)
  • Morgan walked morosely back to the Commission (p.34)

He is constantly telling himself to calm down and get a grip. In one way the novel is a series of incidents strung on a spectrum between Rage and Calm. It records the hopeless quest for calm by an irredeemably angry man.

Morgan could hardly breathe from the effort he was making to stay calm. (p.149)

Physicality

About half way through the book I realised that what makes Boyd’s antihero stand out in a crowded field of British comic antiheroes is that he not only makes a fool of himself and overflows with frustrated anger, it’s the physicality of his responses, an almost continual heart attack-level of strangulation and collapse:

  • He could feel huge sobs of frustration and despair building up in his chest, crushing his lungs against his rib cage, making it increasingly hard to breathe. (p.150)
  • Panic fluttered for a moment in his belly like a trapped bird. (p.155)
  • The familiar suffocating feeling established itself in Morgan’s chest; it was like having your lungs stuffed with cotton wool. (p.156)
  • He felt his head was about to explode (p.159)

Maybe it’s just me but at various moments I, the reader, had sympathetic physical twinges, I felt premonitions of the same physical sensations Morgan experiences, so convincing and compelling does the fever-wracked character become. For example here he is having just read about the symptoms of gonorrhoea:

Morgan closed the book and thought he could actually hear blood draining from his face. He leant against a nearby wall and felt a tremor of blind fear run through his body. (p.168)

In fact it sometimes feels like you’re reading a kind of encyclopedia of stress symptoms, an extraordinarily imaginative and vivid variety of ways of expressing the physical symptoms of stress and rage and frustration.

Doing the wrong thing

Leafy has a talent for doing the wrong thing. In this respect he comes from a long line of comically bumbling English nincompoops. For some reason the figure of gauche young Ian Carmichael in countless 1950s movies comes to mind, but a closer analogy would be hapless Henry Wilt from Tom Sharpe’s series of novels about him, or any number of raging boobies from the comic fiction of Evelyn Waugh, Kingsley Amis, Lesley Thomas, David Lodge or Howard Jacobson.

For example, when he sees a deeply mad derelict standing at a busy road junction, shuffling and dancing, he suddenly feels an overwhelming identification with the man and, on impulse, gives him a pound note … which the madman proceeds to scrunch up and eat (p.18).

Or the time he took Priscilla home to her parent’s house and, noticing a grand gong in the corner of the living room, a relic of Fanshawe’s time in the Far East, impulsively hit it with the padded gong beater while mimicking the grand movie voiceover: ‘J. Arthur Rank presents…’ to be greeted with complete silence from Priscilla’s appalled parents (p.28).

He realises this about himself; he is self aware

Murray – like young Dalmire – was simply a handy scapegoat, a useful objective correlative for his own stupid mistakes, his fervent pursuit of the cock-up, the banal farce he was so industriously trying to turn his life into. (p.16)

No wonder, then, that he needs his Black mistress, Hazel, to shore up what’s left of ‘his tottering ego’ (p.39), despite the strong sense that she’s the one exploiting him. It is entirely characteristic that when he has sex with Hazel, he struggles to keep a ‘flagging erection’ (p.41). He’s pretty sure she left her two illegitimate children back in the village to become a prostitute in the big city. He strongly suspects she’s using the flat he’s renting for her to sleep with other men. But, damn! she arouses him instantly and happily has straightforward, uncomplicated sex. But the reader already senses the potential for humiliation if word gets round the pompous, pukka Commission that he has a paid African mistress.

And so his standard behaviour is muttering threateningly but impotently at everyone in his life, seething inwardly, physically shaken by anger, hatred and mortification.

The novel is cast in three parts:

Part 1 (pages 11 to 83)

It’s one of those comic novels which is packed with incident – from Leafy’s point of view, embarrassing humiliating incidents – but which has certain basic plotlines.

Adekunle blackmail

Most important is that he is being blackmailed by Professor Chief Sam Adekunle, head of the Kinjanjan National Party (KNP). The Chief studied at Harvard Business School and is a smooth operator. He is blackmailing Leafy by threatening to report to all and sundry that he has a Black mistress who was formerly a prostitute. In return, at the end of Part One, Adenkunle reveals that he wants Leafy to cosy up to the starchy Dr Murray and, when the time is right, offer him a huge bribe, because…

Adekunle has bought a plot of land on which the city university is planning to build a massive extension of its campus (a hall and cafeteria, p.230). He aims to sell it to the university for hundreds of thousands of pounds. Murray is chair of the Building Committee who need to sign off on the deal. But the conscientious Murray has rooted around in the civil planning department and discovered that the plot of land right next to Adekunle’s has been scheduled to become the city dump, and what a giant festering, poisonous dump it will become! So – Adekunle wants Leafy to cosy up to Murray and, when the time is right, offer him a whopping £10,000 to suppress his knowledge about the dump and sign off on the land sale.

Getting Priscilla back

The novel opens with the scene in which Dickie Dalmire swankily tells Leafy that he’s engaged to the gorgeous Priscilla, who Leafy used to go out with and who he had sex with on one glorious, never-to-be-forgotten occasion. But this just triggers a determination in Leafy to, in some specified way, get Priscilla back, seduce her away from Dalmire, rub his nose in it – all part of Leafy’s manic determination to get his revenge on the entire world. But you can see how Leafy’s sweaty obsession with Priscilla, and his determination on all occasions to remind her of their one night of passion a) provides a continuous running comic theme and b) promises disaster.

Father Christmas

Christmas is coming and Leafy finds himself bullied into playing Father Christmas for the local kiddies by the not-to-be-denied Chloe Fanshawe, imposing wife of his boss. This plays to the common comic trope of the man overflowing with homicidal rage forced to play nicely-nicely to a bunch of screaming kids and, inevitably, blowing his top.

Royal visit

In this kind of ‘Brits abroad’ fiction there’s often a visit by an official from back in Britain, in which everyone has to be on their best behaviour and which, of course, turns into a disastrous fiasco. Compare and contrast the visit by the Defence Secretary to the Hong Kong army barracks in Lesley Thomas’s ‘Onward Virgin Soldiers’ (1971).

In this story, it is the visit of the Duchess of Ripon, third cousin twice removed the Queen (p.103). The fact that she’s not that eminent a royal is itself comic bathos, deflating.

Election

And then there is going to be a general election, in which Chief Sam Adekunle, head of the Kinjanjan National Party (KNP), is standing.

Mother-in-law

Chloe Fanshawe, wife of Leafy’s boss, is not technically Leafy’s mother-in-law but is the butt of mother-in-law tropes i.e. Leafy instinctively hates her and she despises him. This animosity is demonstrated in his fascination with her anatomy, and especially her prodigious embonpoint. Finding mature women’s bodily shapes funny is, I imagine, nowadays effectively banned. Not so back in 1981.

Mrs Fanshawe had risen to her feet and was belting her dressing gown tightly about her waist, thereby crudely accentuating the body-forms which bulked beneath the candlewick shroud. Morgan inwardly remarked on the prodigious humps that defined her chest and how, curiously, they wobbled transversely as she marched over to her husband. (p.70)

And description of her ‘huge bosom’ (p.29).

So in part one we are introduced to all the key characters, the diplomats ‘at work’ i.e. bantering in their offices, or pretending to chummy at ‘the club’, Leafy’s beloved Priscilla, his mistress Hazel, Sam Adekunle and the blackmail plan.

Part one ends on a bizarre note with an extended sequence where Leafy is woken up after he’s gone to bed and requested by his boss to come over to their house where their maid, Innocence, has been killed by a freak bolt of lightning in a heavy storm. Fanshawe orders him to sort it out and then goes back to bed (the sanctimonious, middle-class bastard, thinks Leafy). This turns into a nightmare because none of the Black servants or staff will touch the body out of fear of the lightning god, Shango. Not even the Black undertakers will remove the body. Only the family can hire a voodoo priest to perform a ritual to cleanse the body, but that costs up to £60 if you throw in the funeral and entertainment costs. Innocence’s daughter doesn’t have that kind of money.

Then Leafy has a brainwave: Dr Murray and his team and the University Clinic. But when he phones Murray the call goes disastrously wrong: Murray refuses point blank to come out or have any of his team touch the body, since university and Commission rules insist they only treat Commission staff. Leafy has been up all night suffering successive setbacks in this stupid bloody task and finally loses it, effing and blinding at Murray who slams the phone down. At which point Leafy realises he has incredibly pissed off the one man he’s meant to be chumming up to and so has, once again, shot himself in the foot, so his chagrin, rage and self-hatred go off the scale.

He threw back his head and bared his teeth in a silent scream of pent-up anger, frustration and hostility at the universe. (p.81)

Slowly Leafy is overcome by a passionate desire to bribe Murray, to take him down a peg or two, to tarnish his saintly self-image, and so he coldly sets himself on revenge. To the reader, this seems a catastrophically bad conclusion to draw, but with immense comic potential.

Part 2 (pages 87 to 206)

Part 2 opens with a surprise – it jumps back in time to 2 or 3 months earlier, to September of the same year when the Fanshawes arrive back from their summer break with their daughter Priscilla. We see Fanshawe very excited about the upcoming national elections and the face that Adekunle, a big cheese in the Kinjanjan National Party (KNP) happens to live in the same town. The point is it’s an opportunity for Fanshawe to cosy up to the people likely to win the election and influence them towards British interests i.e. an opportunity for some real diplomatic work. Fanshawe hopes this brilliant achievement will earn him a better posting as his career comes to an end.

Fanshawe asks leafy to squire Priscilla

As a side note he explicitly asks Leafy if he could take his daughter Priscilla out, as she is feeling low on the rebound from being jilted by a pukka fiancé.

Leafy meets Dr Murray

We also watch the scene where Leafy first introduces himself to Dr Murray, bullying reception, refusing to see the other (coloured) physicians, trying to pull rank, sweaty and smelling of booze – you can see why the tidy, sober, rule-following Dr Murray would despise him.

Leafy snogs Priscilla

Then excruciatingly funny descriptions of his attempts to seduce the emotionally vulnerable Priscilla, lying that he went to a (minor) public school, lying about his dad’s profession, even saying yah instead of yes, to try and raise himself to her posh social stratum.

Cocktail party and film

Fanshawe rather absurdly names the plan to cosy up to Adekunle Project Kingpin. Leafy organises a cocktail party for local notables and we are introduced to Femi Robinson, angry little Marxist and representative of the People’s Party of Kinjanja, and Chief Mabegun, governor of the state and head of the local branch of the United Party of Kinjanjan People, the party in government. The cocktail party is a fiasco for Leafy who can’t cope with Adekunle’s suave sophistication and ends up looking like an idiot following him round the room. At one point Leafy passes on to him Fanshawe’s offer of first class flights to London and a room at Claridge’s but, to Morgan’s horror, Adekunle merely bursts out laughing at the crassness of this offer, as if it was still the days when the natives could be overawed with the offer of a trip to London (p.142). Even when the film projector gets going showing the new film about the Royal Family, Leafy finds himself still standing blocking everyone’s view, feeling yet again, chagrined with humiliation.

(Incidentally, if this is the famous film about the Royal Family directed by Richard Cawston, it was first shown in 1969. Is that the date of the events described in the novel? That would explain all the Vietnam references. And why, when the Black radical turns up to confront Leafy, he does so wearing a black leather jacket, black glasses and Afro, ‘every inch the black power activist’, p.215.)

Fishing trip

Priscilla is irritated that Morgan ignored her at the cocktail party-film show so to make up he takes her on a fishing trip to the river Olokomeji which is, of course, a fiasco, because Morgan inadvertently catches a huge fish which he has to bash against a rock so many times to kill it that it’s reduced to a pulp and he is covered with blood and scales. At which point he tries to seduce Priscilla, telling her he loves her, and she, very understandably, freezes up and asks him not to. He drives her home, she announces she’s going to stay with an American diplomatic family, the Wagners.

Leafy drives on to the hotel where his Black lover, Hazel, stays but she hasn’t been home. Which is when he decides to instal her in a flat.

Adekunle’s birthday party

Leafy is invited by Adekunle’s bored white wife, Celia, to Adekunle’s birthday party at the Hotel de Executive. He bumps into the German businessman and attaché George Muller who briefs him about Adekunles’s business interests and makes Leafy (and the reader) realise what an ignoramus Leafy is: he knows nothing not only about Adekunle, but about the ethnic, religious and political make-up of the state he’s living in. When Leafy makes what he thinks is a subtle approach he is disconcerted that Adekunle bursts into laughter, and says he’s already been approached by America, France and West Germany. Thoroughly humiliated, he rushes to see Hazel at her seedy hotel, and has sex so vigorously he makes his penis sore. At least he thinks that’s the cause. The reader realises he’s picked up a sexually transmitted infection. The comic potential is that he gives it to someone (Priscilla)?

Murray’s clinic

Only when his servant Friday says he’s stopped washing Morgan’s pants because they are soiled with a nauseating discharge is Morgan horrified into making an emergency appointment with Dr Murray, a classic example of the anxious-man-having-penis-examined trope.

Club party

The horribly provincial club dance night with dreadful jazz or loud rock music. Morgan takes Priscilla who is duly disappointed. But in the car there and on the dancefloor she had been surprisingly kissable and biddable. Morgan thinks tonight is the night he’s going to bed her. Until he bumps into Dr Murray in the corridor to the lavatories, who informs him, in a confidential whisper, that he has gonorrhoea. It is a very funny moment when, a few minutes later, Priscilla returns from her trip to the loo and remarks that Morgan is looking very red. Does he feel alright?

Humiliation with Priscilla

There follows an agonisingly embarrassing scene in which drunk Priscilla insists on being taken back to Leafy’s flat, kisses, grabs him, starts stripping off in the darkened living room, drunkenly preparing for an orgy, while Leafy comes up with a flurry of implausible excuses before he’s driven to leap up and turn the main lights on. At which point, Priscilla, seeing her state, stalks off to the bathroom to get dressed then insists on being driven home in silence. When Leafy tries to make excuses she delivers a speech describing him as a pitiful worm. Driving home, then in bed alone, his chagrin and frustration knows no bounds.

More Murray

Opens with a very funny scene of Leafy consulting a medical encyclopedia in the university library and nearly fainting as he reads about the horrifying complications of gonorrhoea. Then onto a formal consultation with Murray who confirms the diagnosis but says all it requires will be two injections with penicillin and total abstinence from sex and alcohol for four weeks. And inform all your sexual partners. When he tells his Black mistress, she admits to having three other part-time lovers.

Dickie Dalmire arrives

Leafy is at the airport to greet the ‘new man’ sent out to the Commission, and take him for lunch at the Fanshawes’ (his new boss) where, Leafy is chagrined, as usual, to see Dalmire’s pukka public school confidence putting him instantly at home with Arthur, Chloe and Priscilla in a way grammar school, suburban Leafy never achieved in three years.

Adekunle stuns Fanshawe by accepting the offer of a visit to Britain but demanding a) two weeks at Claridge’s b) an official reception at the airport c) open-ended return tickets for two. Fanshawe is dumbfounded at the reversal of the power dynamic, with the Black man now setting the terms. Trouble is more and more oil deposits are being discovered in the country and HM govt want the new Kinjanja govt to give Britain preferential treatment. Adekunle’s party aren’t a dead cert to win the upcoming election, but are the favourites.

Celia

Morgan gets accustomed to meeting Celia Adekunle almost every morning at ‘the club’ for swimming and sunbathing. She’s hard and cynical and small and bony, not at all his type, yet they have an instant rapport. She admits hers is an empty token marriage. She’d run away if she could.

Hazel’s flat

Leafy hires the seedy shabby flat where we find Hazel ensconced in part one.

Celia

Morgan and Celia are now driving to rendezvous in the country and having lovely carefree sex. They stop for a drink at a bar on the way back into town and she persuades him to come back to the house – her husband’s away and she dismisses the servant and sex in a proper bed takes on a whole new dimension.

Caught

Outside Celia’s house, fumbling for his car keys, Leafy is terrified to be buttonholed by Adekunle who proceeds to tell him he knows all about his affair with his wife, and about his Black woman in town (Hazel). Would he like his boss to find out about this, how Morgan has screwed up Fanshawe’s precious Kingpin project? No. Therefore Leafy is going to do everything Adekunle tells him to, right? Fearing he may pass out with terror or throw up, Leafy agrees and is amazed when the upshot of all this terrifying is imply that…Adekunle wants Leafy to become friends with Dr Murray. Oh and end the affair with his wife, without letting her know that Adekunle knows about it.

The engagement

The short scene ending part two turns out to lead directly into the opening of part one. It’s where Dalmire pops into the office of a Leafy who has turned into a depressed recluse, drinking heavily to compensate for the abrupt ending of the affair with Celia, and announces that he’s just got engaged to Priscilla.

This is very clever. The opening of the book put me off a bit because I didn’t understand what was going on. But anyone who persists this far, to page 204, now has an infinitely deeper grasp of the events which lay behind Leafy’s desperate, raging emotions, the way the entire universe is conspiring to frustrate his every wish and desire.

In fact it would be tempting to reread all of part one in the light of the extensive and thorough backgrounding part two gives you, to read it a second time with a much deeper understanding of all its resonances and meanings.

Part 3 (pages 209 to 312)

Part 3 opens exactly where part 1 ended, with Leafy weeping tears of frustration at the refusal of all the Black servants or public services to remove the body of Innocence, struck dead by lightning. In other words, part 2 might at one stage originally been the opening and first hundred pages of the novel but Boyd or someone had the bright idea of lifting and shifting it completely to become part 2, changing what was originally the next section, part 2, into part 2. So the narrative starts in media res (‘in the middle of things’) as the critics of ancient Greece and Rome recommended. The effect is to cleverly create all kinds of unexpected resonances and explanations. Very artful, very clever.

Leafy’s ignorance

Alongside Leafy’s overactive sex drive, his alcoholism and his shambling ineptitude goes a stunning ignorance of almost every aspect of the country he’s working in and the people he’s supposed to be studying. So, for example, he knew nothing about Adekunle’s business interests until the German, Georg Muller, told him, and various other characters tell him that this or that piece of information is ‘common knowledge’, all of which come as complete news to dim Leafy.

I suddenly realised how important this is when the Marxist leader Femi Robinson comes to see him to protest about newspaper photos of Adekunle being greeted by Foreign Office officials in London. He’s protesting because these photos give the impression that London is supporting Adekunle’s party, the KNP, in the soon-to-be-held elections. But it’s not just that which is a problem. The real issue is that this support from the old imperial power will discredit the KNP in the eyes of the army who are already disgusted with the corruption of the ruling party. There have already been small army mutinies. The risk is that the army will step in and stage a coup. Leafy asks, ‘Are you sure?’ Robinson replies: ‘Everybody knows it,’ (p.217) except, of course, dim Leafy (and, to be fair, his equally dithering boss, Fanshawe).

In this final act, Leafy’s universal ignorance has serious consequences.

Christmas fitting

To Leafy’s surprise, Mrs Fanshawe takes him upstairs to the attic but it turns out to be to try on a boilersuit she’s dyed red as part of the Father Christmas outfit she’s making up for him. She briskly tells him to strip down to his undies to try it on but when he hands it back turns a funny colour, makes excuses and rushes off. Odd, thinks Leafy, till he looks down and sees his penis has flopped out of the slit in his boxer shorts. For some reason this sexual embarrassment reminds me of the endless humiliations suffered by the Ben Miller character in the TV series ‘The Worst Week of my Life’.

It’s now the day before Christmas Eve and Leafy has two massive problems. Adekunle simply won’t accept that Leafy’s fallen out with Murray and insists, if he doesn’t want his career ruined, that he offer him the bribe. And the body of Innocence is still lying on a bench in the servants’ quarters of the Commission steadily decomposing because no Africans will touch it till the juju priest has performed his ceremony, with his boss Fanshawe becoming apoplectic that it be removed before the bloody Duchess of Ripon arrives for her two-day visit the next day.

So Leafy bullies his servant Friday into joining him at 3am to secretly carry the rotting putrid corpse to his car. Half way through a white ghost appears in the nearby trees but an unimpressed Leafy rugby tackles him only to discover he’s the poet sent by the British Council, one Greg Bilbow from Yorkshire. Leafy tells him to wait, goes back and he and Friday drag the corpse the last few yards to his car and heave it into the boot. Then he drives Friday back to his house and Bilbow back to his (Leafy’s) apartment where he’s promised to put him up. It has just turned Christmas Day.

Tribulations

He is astonished to get a call from a livid Fanshawe. Turns out when the Commission’s staff found the body of Innocence gone, they went on strike. Obviously this is a disaster what with the Duchess about to arrive, let alone the following day when there’s a massive party scheduled for 200 local dignitaries. Leafy must smuggle Innocence’s rotting body back to where it was.

He’s barely coping with this information before he has to dress up as Father Christmas and dole out presents to the kiddies at the Commission’s Christmas party. The Duchess has arrived and watches him entertain the kiddywinks.

Returning Innocence

After surviving the Father Christmas ordeal, Leafy spends the rest of the evening getting completely pissed at the Commission bar, dressed as Santa, the butt of many jokes. It’s here that a way of solving the Innocence problem comes to him. So it is that, sometime after midnight, utterly hammered, Leafy drives round to the staff accommodation, pours petrol all over the rubbish dump, lights it with a great whoomph of flame in his own face, then runs back to the car. As all the servants wake and run to tackle the fire and so are distracted, Leafy then drives further round the accommodation block, opens the boot, yanks the rotting corpse of Innocence back to more or less where he found it, leaps back into the car and drives round the perimeter road back to the Commission.

The duchess in the bathroom

He imagines the bathroom will be empty at this time of night so slips inside with a view to cleaning up. He is stunned when he sees his own reflection in the mirror, his face blackened with the flames, one eyebrow burned off, his face lined with the white tracks of his tears. But not as stunned as when he hears footsteps coming up the hallway and, to cut a long story short, it turns out that he’s using the bathroom assigned to the Duchess of Ripon. Leafy hurriedly hides in the shower but can’t help overhearing as the Duchess strips off, has a hearty dump, then whisks the shower curtain back to reveal…a mad burned Santa! Stunned into immobility, the Duchess watches as Bad Santa climbs out of the bath, opens the bathroom window and climbs out. Laughing manically, he scampers across the grass to his car, drives back to the apartment where the Yorkshire poet takes the mickey out of his ridiculous appearance, washes his burned face and collapses into bed.

The golf tournament

The Commission are hosting a golf tournament. Leafy had asked Adekunle to work behind the scenes and get him paired with Murray so he can make his move. But, to his dismay, as they stroll and chat round the course, Leafy discovers that he likes Murray.

Finally he nerves himself to make his pitch and offers Murray the £10,000 bribe. Leafy handles it in a characteristically cack-handed way, and ends up telling Murray everything about Adekunle, that he owns the land the new buildings would be built on etc and how he’s been blackmailed into making the bribe. Murray says no to the bribe and that he must report it. Leafy reaches the end of his tether and physically collapses and passes out.

When he comes round, Murray is concerned and says OK he won’t report him, but the answer is still no. He’s recommending the Committee reject the application simply because he doesn’t want corrupt operators like Adekunle to win. Leafy gives up. It’s all over. Adekunle will tell Fanshawe about his shame, his career will be over, he might as well book his flight back to London now.

Hazel’s

Once he can walk, Leafy drives to Hazel’s and holes up there for days, including during the important general election. He periodically phones his apartment where the affable Yorkshire poet tells him Adekunle has been trying to contact him for days. Eventually Adekunle tracks him down to Hazel’s and tells him he has changed his mind and doesn’t want him to offer Murray the bribe after all! What!?

Innocence solution

Convinced he’s going to be sacked, in a new mood of fatalistic resignation, Leafy tells the servants protecting Innocence’s now-restored corpse that he’ll pay for the priest and the funeral. The price goes up to £80 but Leafy doesn’t begrudge it. What the hell. His career is shot. His time here is over.

Election victory

When Adekunle rang Leafy he sounded happy and generous because the votes are in and his party, the KNP, has won a majority. They will be the new government. Adekunle invites Leafy to the victory party. As he leaves for it, his man Friday tells him to avoid the town tomorrow as ‘the soldiers will come’. He repeats the motif: ‘Everybody knows’. Everybody except Leafy, that is.

Adekunle’s victory party

Adekunle explains that he was constantly phoning Leafy in order to tell him not to offer Murray the bribe. Turns out that Adekunle has made a contact within the planning department and has made sure that, even if Murray signs off a negative report, it will be ‘lost’ by his (Adekunle’s) contact and never registered. So all the heartaching and the humiliation of offering Murray the bribe was for nothing. Leafy is gutted.

Celia

Leafy drinks himself silly all evening, eventually staggering upstairs to the loo to throw up. When he’s quite finished, he grabs a random toothbrush to clean his teeth. He’s barely staggered out onto the landing before Celia pounces and drags him into a spare bedroom. Here it becomes clear that she’s decided to leave Adekunle but needs him to get her a British visa. In a flash Leafy realises she’s been using him, the entire affair was to seduce him into providing the visa. One more delusion, one more bitter let-down. He is heartbroken and just walks away, leaving Celia still crying for his help.

The siege

But something massive is about to happen, a massively violent event which forms the climax of the book.

On his way to Adekunle’s house Leafy had seen the wizened old Marxist Femi Robinson clutching a load of placards on his way to a student sit-in and protest at the university administration buildings. With typical lack of tact and awareness Leafy had mentioned that he and Fanshawe and other officials would all be at Adekunle’s party which was by way of being a victory party. Well, we know that Robinson considered all the press photos in the papers of Adekunle being greeted by top officials on his recent trip to London had been a conscious attempt by Britain to influence the election which, in the event, Adekunle and his KNP had won.

Now, completely unexpectedly, Robinson brings a contingent of protesting students from the main building over to Adekunle’s grand home. Adekunle had invited important dignitaries, the Kinjanjan press and had planned to make a grand victory speech. Instead he finds his house surrounded by furious students throwing stones and bricks and, most incongruous of all, chanting ‘FAN-SHAWE FAN-SHAWE.’ This is because Leafy had incautiously told Robinson that Fanshawe was the brains behind Adekunle’s visit to London, and that Fanshawe would be at Adekunle’s party – and also because it’s easier to chant than Robinson’s long doctrinaire slogans (which he nonetheless valiantly yells through a loudhailer).

Luckily, Adekunle’s place is protected by a tough security fence, but the protesters are still managing to lob bricks and stones with accuracy through the windows and the guests are taking cover behind makeshift barricades of furniture. In this highly stressed situation, both Fanshawe and Adekunle turn to Leafy to do something and, surprisingly, Leafy comes up with a plan! This is to pretend to be Fanshawe and make an escape to distract the protesters.

So he and Fanshawe swaps clothes, the idea being he’ll run for the Commission’s distinctive official car dressed as Fanshawe, get Adekunle’s (reluctant) security people to open the front gate as he drives through it at top speed and so distract them. At which point tubby old Chloe Fanshawe, the Deputy Commissioner’s wife volunteers to come with him. As soon as she does that I knew they were going to have sex.

Freud somewhere says the traditional dislike between son and mother-in-law is actually a taboo designed to prevent its opposite, which is inappropriate sexual attraction between these roles. This had been palpable ever since we first met her and Leafy combined a detailed description of her physique with wonder at the tension and dislike between them.

The escape

It all goes to plan. Leafy-dressed-as-Fanshawe makes a break through the hail of stone for the car, hand in hand with the distinctive, party-dress-wearing and very plump Mrs Fanshawe. they jump in, drive at the gates which Adekunle’s security men open at the last minute, race through as protesters throw themselves out the way, then charge after them still throwing stones. There’s a hairy moment when the car careers into a shallow ditch and won’t move as the protesters come charging at them but this just makes the distraction tactic more successful, as the back wheels finally get traction and it roars free.

The riot police

But Leafy and Chloe’s night is far from finished because the authorities have called in the riot police to deal with the student protests and things have turned really nasty. The admin block of the university looks like a warzone with windows shattered, groups of burning cars, and row upon row of helmeted, shielded riot police approaching the building and firing rifles at the students throwing bricks, stones and office equipment at them from the windows, the whole scene drenched in stifling teargas. All this is blocking the main road out of the campus. Leafy and Chloe can get no further in the car and have gotten out to try and sneak round the warzone on foot.

A Murray moment

On the way there, still in the car, leafy had spotted a solitary figure standing by the road and screeched to a halt. It’s Dr Murray. He gives more detail about the extent of the rioting. Leafy offers him a lift. Murray says no, he’s waiting for the university ambulance to come pick him up then will be treating the injured. Leafy lingers unnecessarily because he wants, somehow, to express the complicated feelings he’s come to have for Murray, who’s gone from figure of unmitigated hatred to someone who was kind to him (when he fainted on the golf course) and whose integrity he’s come to respect. The best he can do is warn him that Adekunle has dropped the bribe offer because he has a contact in the building office who will ‘lose’ Murray’s report, so Leafy warns him to make copies and distribute them widely. Murray thanks him, there’s an awkward pause, then our man jumps back in the car and heads off with Mrs F.

(It’s worth remembering that Boyd’s own father was Scottish and served as head of the health clinic at the University College of the Gold Coast. Is this a portrait of his father, strict, stern and worthy of respect? A filial compliment?)

Escape from the campus

Long story short, Leafy and Chloe manage to escape the campus but not before having a very hairy moment when they set off running across open ground and a detachment of riot police spot them and chase them, firing their guns at them, Leafy hearing the bullets whining past his head. I thought at this point that maybe Chloe would be shot and injured, certainly this all feels too serious for them just to get away. It’s not funny any more.

But they do get away, just, running through the maze of back alleys and gardens of the university’s residential quarter until the police have obviously given up chasing. Exhausted, filthy, bleeding from wounds caused by stones and thorny bushes, they find the perimeter fence and climb it, emerging on a normal road not far from a normal cheap bar. Here Leafy offers the owner £10 if he’ll drive them out of there.

Empty Commission

When the taxi driver brings them to the Commission, Leafy and Chloe find it locked up but a note from Fanshawe saying a) the guests escaped from Adekunle’s b) Fanshawe has accompanied the daughter, Priscilla, and Dalmire into town, to the airport, where the young couple had been planning to go on holiday anyway, c) that Denzil Jones has offered Chloe accommodation for the night.

At Leafy’s

Chloe asks if she can come back to Leafy’s house to clean up so he gets the waiting taxi driver to take them there, and pays him his £10. She has a bath, he pours himself a stiff (i.e big) whisky, she emerges in a big towel and sets about darning her ruined dress so as to be as respectable as possible when she goes to stay with Jones except that…she now tells him huskily…she doesn’t want to go to the Jones house. She wants to spend the night here. Aha. As I predicted.

Remember that moment when she was measuring him up for his Father Christmas suit and, unintentionally, his limp penis flopped out of his boxer shorts not very far from her face and she flusteredly looked out the window, made an excuse and left. Well, it turns out she’s been thinking about Leafy’s penis – ‘a lot’ (p.309).

Leafy for his part feels himself strangely attracted to his one-time putative mother-in-law (paging Dr Freud), has a thorough shower, then they are in bed naked together, she stroking his growing arousal, he nuzzling her huge breasts etc, when…the phone rings.

Death of Dr Murray

It’s Inspector Gbeho from Nkongsamba police headquarters. He is duty bound to report the death of any Brits to the Commission and can’t get hold of his boss, Fanshawe (who we know is at the airport). Dr Murray is dead. He was in an ambulance carrying students to the clinic and it skidded on the wet road and, well, he was killed in the crash. Just like that.

The good man

Leafy thanks the inspector, puts the phone down and (rather like the reader) is overcome with a whirligig of images and emotions. Above all the sense of futility. Murray was a genuinely good man, probably the only good man in the story – efficient, professional and with clear moral values – unlike any of the bumbling British diplomats, let alone an out-and-out crook like Adekunle. Naked, enormous Chloe Fanshawe is calling him from the bed where she wants Leafy to ‘make their night complete’. Leafy ponders what Dr Murray would make of him bedding his boss’s wife. Wouldn’t have approved, would he?

The news of Murray’s death evaporates Leafy’s erection and arousal. He tiredly pads down the hall to the bedroom and starts to make his apologies. ‘Listen Chloe, I’ve been thinking…’ This is mostly comic, but also genuinely sad and poignant.

The difference between farce and comedy is that the former pushes beyond the limits of plausibility into the absurd, delighting in far-fetched coincidences and hair’s-breadth escapes for their own sake, the more wildly improbable the better. Farce revels in deliberately contrived plots, plots which emphasise their own structures, playing with repetition, inversion, variations.

Thus Leafy’s last-minute change of heart about sleeping with Chloe Fanshawe makes a neat parallel with the buttock-clenchingly embarrassing scene where he was forced to refuse to have sex with her daughter, Priscilla. The turn of events is humorous in its own right but also gives the reader a pleasing sense of structure and contrivance. Boyd is a technically adept author.

The coup

And while Leafy is miserably apologising to Chloe, the perspective of the narrative pulls back to pan across the campus, revealing the burned-out cars and trashed offices, and on into the city itself as the army mounts the coup which everyone, certainly all the ordinary locals, knew about well in advance, everyone except Britain’s blinkered, drunk, snobbish, self-obsessed diplomats, experts in disaster and humiliation, utter fools when it comes to understanding the country they’re posted to.

‘Good man’

The phrase ‘good man’, like the main theme in a piece of classical music, is stated right at the start, in fact make up the novel’s first two words, as spoken by lucky Dalmire announcing his engagement to Priscilla to a mortified Leafy, who pretends to take it on the chin but inside is anything but a ‘good man’, seething with rage and hatred of Dalmire.

In other words, the phrase is used ironically right from the start, Dalmire being too obtuse to realise that Leafy, at that moment, wants to kill him and blow up the entire town i.e. he is quite possibly the opposite of a good man, he is a very bad man.

Thereafter the phrase is repeated, slowly accumulating resonances and layers of irony, not least because all the people who use the expression ‘good man’ wouldn’t actually recognise a good man if he bit them on the bottom.

On page 32 Leafy’s boss, Fanshawe, fatuously calls Leafy ‘a good man’ for reluctantly acquiescing to dress up as Father Christmas, something Leafy a) hates having to do b) is only doing because it will get him closer to the superb breasts of Fanshawe’s daughter, so the phrase implicates both the sayer (obtuse, conventionally minded Fanshawe) and the addressee (lustful seething Leafy).

On page 51, Leafy is at the bar with Dalmire and Jones who is very drunk and drunkenly calls Leafy ‘a bloody good man’, slapping him hard on the back, and Leafy, to his credit, fumes at how much he hates this ‘ghastly rugger-club expression’ (p.51).

On page 89 Leafy gets drunk in a bar with the disreputable, seedy Lee Wan, a Malayan who’s secured British citizenship and uses all manner of pukka phrases to burnish his Britishness. When Lee Wan bursts out laughing at an off-colour joke Leafy makes about importing condoms, Leafy drunkenly considers him ‘a good man to have around’. Again, irony, because Lee is a creepy sycophant.

On page 192 Fanshawe calls Leafy a ‘good man’ in an unstated recognition that Leafy has been schmoozing up to, maybe even having an affair with, Adekunle’s wife Celia. No-one acknowledges it, maybe Fanshawe doesn’t really appreciate it, but that’s the point. Don’t ask questions. Leave things unsaid. Gloss over difficult realities. The English way. Leafy is, in fact, being praised for being a sneak.

As I’ve explained, part two in fact gives the 3-month backstory leading up to the opening scene of the book, which opens with Dalmire calling Leafy a ‘good man’ for accepting the news about his and Priscilla’s engagement so calmly (p.206). Having heard the full backstory we now realise that Leafy is very far indeed from being a good man in at least two senses:

a) we’ve seen what an out-of-control drunk he is, how he’s set his Black mistress up in a love nest, contracted gonorrhoea from her and came within an ace of passing it on to Dalmire’s fiancée, Priscilla;

b) far from accepting the news with equanimity as Dalmire thinks, displaying the obtuseness typical of all the characters, internally Leafy is seething with homicidal rage

So it’s another example of the complete failure of the English characters to understand the first thing about what’s going on or achieve even the simplest communication.

At the climax of the novel, when Adekunle’s luxury compound is under attack from the protesting students, useless old Denzil Jones calls Leafy ‘a good man’ for bravely volunteering to impersonate Fanshawe to draw off the protesters ( p.297).

This is a more equivocal example because, although Jones is trapped in the machine of his own predictable behaviour (he slaps Leafy on the back exactly as he did all the way back on page 51) Leafy has, in fact, and to the reader’s surprise, actually volunteered to do quite a heroic thing to save other people. It’s effective and it is heroic. For once, maybe for the first time in his life, he isn’t secretly motivated by sex or drink or promotion. It is as if he is struggling to emerge from the chrysalis of his terrible personality and, for once in his life, do the right thing.

Looking back over the whole narrative, it feels as if Dr Murray’s influence is working, fermenting a new Leafy from the shambles of the old. Everyone else remains stuck in their fixed attitudes and characters, but this, the final use of the phrase in the book, indicates that change is possible.

Four conclusions:

1. I’ve shown how the phrase ‘good man’, right from the start of the novel, more often than not has connotations diametrically opposite to its literal meaning i.e. is used to describe all kinds of dodgy characters (Lee Wan, p.89) or is applied by the English characters to each other in the deepest ignorance or bad faith, glossing over characters’ bad behaviour, or concealing raw hatred for the person talking, or is motivated by the crudest motives.

2. All of which made me come to realise how the phrase ‘good man’ is like a sticking plaster designed to cover over things that would rather not be discussed or made explicit. The British stiff upper lip is related to a cultural insistence not to delve too deep below the surface, an attitude which prefers to paper over unpleasantness with stock public school phrases.

3. The thoughtless bandying about by the English of this clubroom phrase is directly linked to their wider obtuseness and ignorance of what’s going on right under their noses. The English diplomats are depicted as a snobbish shower of incompetents, meddling with forces way beyond their comprehension, but bolstering each other’s morale with this kind of self-congratulatory clubroom catchphrase.

4. Only at the very end of the novel (presumably as intended) did I realise that there is, in fact, only one good man in the book and it is Dr Murray. He is principled and professional in a way none of the other men in the book are. It is symptomatic of Leafy’s degraded condition that he develops such a pathological hatred for a man who is simply following the rules and regulations and then, when offered an enormous bribe, briskly turns it down and insists on doing what he regards as the right thing. This itself has two sub-aspects:

a) Murray isn’t English, he is Scottish. There is a stark distinction between the bumbling incompetent English Commission staff (pompous Fanshawe, out-of-control Leafy, insufferably successful Dalmire) and Murray, who comes from a completely different tradition, of stern Scottish professionalism and moral fibre.

b) From this point of view, taking Murray as the central figure in the book and removing for a moment all the comedy and farce, the narrative could be read as Morgan Leafy’s moral education by Dr Murray, Leafy’s slow, chaotic coming-to-realise that Murray represents an alternative way of being, selfless and noble and professional. Murray is clearly intended to be the Good Man of the title.

And, as I’ve mentioned before, seeing as how Boyd’s own father was a Scottish head of medicine in a West African university, this amounts to quite a tribute from a son to a father, quite a moving gesture of filial loyalty.

Objectifying women

1981. Long time ago, wasn’t it? And most of the book probably written well before then, getting on for 50 years ago. Its age shows, maybe, in some of the disrespectful language used about the Africans (I doubt if it’s nowadays acceptable to call older Black women ‘mammies’). And also in the underlying assumption that only white people are important enough to be treated in detail while most of the Black characters are poverty-stricken, lazy, useless and inarticulate. That’s bad enough.

But I think the main problem a young modern reader would have with this novel is the objectification of women. Boyd has Leafy itemise the appearance of all the women in his life (Hazel, Chloe and Priscilla Fanshawe, Celia Adekunle) in minute, unforgiving detail. The repeated references to Chloe Fanshawe’s huge bosoms is the stuff of traditional mother-in-law jokes but the description of her white blue-veined legs or ‘the large turquoise globes of her buttocks’ (p.223) less so. Leafy pays close attention to, and describes in detail, all women’s breasts.

In a sort of exception, the repeated descriptions of Leafy’s Black misters, skinny, brown Celia Adekunle, with a wattle of loose tummy skin from her two children and her appendectomy scar, this came over to me as surprisingly tender and accepting. But, stepping back a bit, even this is still part of the minute scrutiny of women’s bodies which, I think, would offend the modern woman reader.

Boyd’s prose style

Boyd’s prose is extremely smooth and effective, clear and sensible and expressive. I came to ‘A Good Man’ from reading several novels by Giles Foden who wields a complicated mosaic of registers and tones, whose prose is characterised by unwieldy sentences, odd phraseology, clunky positioning of prepositions, numerous quirks and oddities which draw continually draw attention to themselves.

Absolutely nothing like that with Boyd: his prose is clear, modern, flowing, albeit put in the service of describing a kind of comic psychopath. But you rarely if ever notice Boyd’s prose, just register the comic extremity of Leafy’s volcanic eruptions of rage and frustration, panic and horror. A Good Man in Africa is a well-constructed, clever and very, very funny book.


Credit

A Good Man in Africa by William Boyd was published by Hamish Hamilton in 1981. References are to the 1983 Penguin paperback edition.

Related links

The State of Africa: A History of the Continent since Independence by Martin Meredith (2005) – 2

This is a huge, 700-page, compendious history of all the African nations from independence (roughly the mid-1950s) to the time it was written (around 2010), so 55 years or so of modern African history.

Meredith chooses as epigraph to this big book the Latin tag from Pliny the Elder, ‘Ex Africa semper aliquid novi’ meaning ‘Out of Africa always something new’ – but a reading of the actual book confirms how utterly inappropriate this is. For if Meredith’s book demonstrates anything it is that, since independence, out of Africa have come the same five or six stereotypical narratives or events – civil war, one-party rule, dictatorship, economic collapse, famine, vast amounts of foreign aid – and the consistent failure to deliver the utopian dreams everyone hoped for in the heady first years of independence.

Two major contexts

Meredith only mentions them in passing but two broad historical contexts are worth bearing in mind.

  1. The independence movement in Algeria spiralled out of control into an appallingly brutal war which neither side was able to stop, and which threatened to tear the colonial power, France, apart. The war was at its worst in 1957 to 1961. The point is that Algeria stood as a terrible warning to the other colonial powers (Britain, Belgium, Portugal) of what might happen if they mismanaged things or delayed.
  2. The victory of Fidel Castro’s communists in Cuba in 1959 ushered in an era when the threat of the new African states falling to communism seemed very real and of global importance in the war between the two superpowers. Hence the head of the CIA warning President Eisenhower that Congo’s Patrice Lumumba might be ‘the African Castro’ and America’s feverish paranoia that if Congo fell to the communists it might influence the entire continent (p.104). Looking back, this level of anxiety seems exaggerated, even absurd. But the context is crucial in understanding the actions of all the colonial powers, but especially of America, which set about undermining left-wing governments and supporting right-wing, capitalism-loving dictators across the continent.

Both of these examples or precedents (Algeria, Cuba) lay behind the decisions of Britain and Belgian, in particular, not to linger or suppress independence movements. In other words, they added to the sense of urgency and haste which characterised the rush to make Africa independent, with such questionable results.

Part 1

1. The Gold Coast experiment (Ghana)

The tragic life of Kwame Nkrumah who went from political prisoner in the early 1950s, to lead his own political party, the Convention People’s Party, won the general election held under British auspices in 1954, before leading Ghana to independence in March 1957. Meredith vividly describes the week-long celebrations, attended by worthies from around the world including Zhou Enlai and Richard Nixon.

With a sickening inevitability Nkrumah found the new country difficult to rule, repressed political opposition and rigged elections. In 1964 he amended the constitution to make Ghana a one-party state, with himself as president for life. In 1966 Nkrumah was deposed in a coup led by the National Liberation Council.

2. Revolt on the Nile (Egypt)

Colonel Gamal Abdel Nasser led the 1952 revolution which overthrew the 32-year-old playboy King Farouk I. Much rhetoric about freedom and Arab socialism as Nasser tightened his grip on power, imprisoning rivals and getting elected president in 1956. The catastrophe of the Suez Crisis which put the nail in the coffin of the British Empire. From that moment Britain’s rush to decolonise picked up speed.

3. Land of the Setting Sun (Morocco, Tunisia, Algeria)

Apparently, the Arab word for north-west Africa, maghreb, means ‘land of the setting sun’ (as opposed to our word ‘Levant’ which means ‘rising’, to describe the old Ottoman Empire).

This chapter describes the descent of Algeria into a terrible insurgency which kicked off in the spring of 1954 with a wave of bomb attacks by the National Liberation Front (French: Front de libération nationale or FLN) with both sides slowly breaching their early declarations to target only combatants, so that by August 1954 the FLN was bombing civilian cafés and restaurants while the French security forces cracked down hard on the civilian Arab population, with large-scale arrests and torture.

An often overlooked aspect of the terrible war in Algeria (1956 to 1962) was that it made the French more amenable to granting its neighbours, Tunisia and Morocco, independence. Meredith describes the independence campaigning of Habib Bourguiba in Tunisia and Sultan Mohammed V in Morocco. The French arrested, imprisoned and exiled both these leaders, but eventually gave into widespread protests and both Morocco and Tunisia gained their independence in March 1956.

In 1957, amid an upsurge in terrorist bombings, the French governor of Algeria handed power over to the military, led by General Jacques Massu. The army locked down the capital city Algiers, ringing it with barbed wire, dividing it into sections which could be searched, cleared and then surveilled. Thousands of Algerians were arrested and tortured using electric shocks or waterboarding. It became known as The Battle of Algiers. In the country, peasants were rounded up into camps while native collaborator/spies (harkis) were deployed by the French.

By 1958 the FLN had been defeated, its leaders seeking refuge in Tunisia, whose new leader Bourguiba gave them sanctuary. However, the political system in France itself was in crisis. Violent disagreements about policy in Algeria led to the collapse of a series of short-lived governments. Worried that pacifist-defeatist politicians would gain power, in May 1958 the military took control of Algeria, allying with leading colons (white French colonists) to form a Committee of Public Safety. The French government declared a blockade, at which the Committee called for the return of the wartime hero, General de Gaulle.

4. L’Afrique Noire (Senegal, Ivory Coast)

L’Afrique Noire was the French term for the sub-Saharan part of its colonial empire, including Senegal and the Ivory Coast. Meredith describes the careers of Léopold Senghor of Senegal and Félix Houphouët-Boigny of Côte d’Ivoire.

5. Winds of Change (British colonies)

This chapter covers the independence movements in British colonies such as Nigeria.

Nigeria

Nigeria had only been created by the forcible union of north and south Nigeria in 1914, the north and south having themselves been slowly cobbled together from former, smaller protectorates since 1900. Nigeria could be divided into three great blocs: the north was Muslim and Hausa-speaking, with a conservative, feudal social system. It had few schools or colleges. The West, including the capital Lagos, was mostly Yoruba. Being on the coast, dotted with cities, it was more economically advanced and urban. In the East lived the Igpo who tended to be very well educated but had no social system of their own and so were scattered around Nigeria’s other territories. In addition there some 250 other ethnic groups, some of which protested and rebelled, including the Edo-speaking people of Benin province who longed to restore the kingdom of Benin. The British struggled with successive constitutions to try and create a balance between all these different constituencies. Nigeria was granted independence in 1960.

As a rule of thumb British colonies in West Africa were much more advanced than British colonies in East Africa (Kenya, Tanganyika) and Central Africa (north and south Rhodesia, Nyasaland). Politics in these latter countries was dominated by the fierce lobbying of the small white minorities, who dominated the local governors. Thus the settlers persuaded the Colonial Office to create a federation of Central Africa, consisting of Rhodesia and Nyasaland.

Kenya

Plans for a similar federation in East Africa were wrecked by the Mau Mau rebellion, which was an organised protest against the grotesque monopoly of the best agricultural land in Kenya by whites, and the land deprivation and lack of rights enforced on the million-strong Kikuyu population. Meredith gives a thorough account: the phrase mau mau actually meant nothing in Kikuyu, it was just a rallying call, and then the name given to the secret meetings where oaths of allegiance were sworn to the movement. Despite white paranoia, very few whites were actually killed during the so-called ’emergency’ (1952 to 1960), Meredith gives the number as 32, fewer than lost their lives in traffic accidents in Nairobi over the same period. He details British accusations that the Kikuyu leader Jomo Kenyatta, leader of the Kenya African Union (KAU) was involved, which led to a kangaroo court convicting and imprisoning him; and the brutal measures the British took against the insurgency, including setting up concentration camps.

The first Blacks were elected to Kenya’s legislative council in 1957. In October the Highlands area was formally opened to all races. The British thought they would continue to rule Kenya for at least another decade. In the event, independence was granted on December 12, 1963.

Nyasaland

Meredith gives the story of Nyasaland, to which the elderly Dr Hastings Banda returned as leader of the independence movement in 1959, determined to scupper Britain’s plans to make it part of a federation with Rhodesia. The colonial governor imported troops who tried to quell protests which turned into riots, troops shot, protesters killed, it becomes a nationwide movement etc.

Meanwhile, in neighbouring north Rhodesia, in the run-up to contested 1959 elections the authorities banned a leading nationalist party and imprisoned its leader, Kenneth Kaunda. Britain was losing its reputation for progressive colonialism in a welter of protests and arrests across all its African colonies.

Abruptly, Harold Macmillan’s conservative government gave in. Late in 1959 the Foreign Secretary Iain Macleod said further repression would lead to bloodshed. In February 1960 Macmillan gave his famous Winds of Change speech. Behind it was fear that further suppressing calls for independence would drive African nations into the hands of the communists. The British knew most of their colonies weren’t ready for independence – Meredith lists the pitiful number of native lawyers or administrators in the central and east African countries – but hurrying was a less bad option than delay, with the increasing repression, bloodshed and reputational damage that would inevitably entail.

6. Heart of Darkness (Congo)

The gruesome history of the Belgian Congo. It beggars belief that there are still statues of King Leopold II, one of the most blood-thirsty rulers in history, in Belgium. Congo was notable for four or five reasons:

  1. It was and is the largest country in Africa.
  2. The grotesque rule of Leopold II was probably the most evil, mass murdering of all the colonial regimes. As many as 10 million Congolese died during his rule, 1885 to 1908.
  3. Once the colony had been handed over to the Belgian government to run, it developed through the 20th century as one of the richest sources of minerals (particularly copper and diamonds) in the world.
  4. The rush to independence was hastiest and most foolhardy here than almost anywhere else. At independence Congo had 3 Black civil servants, 30 university graduates, no doctors, secondary school teachers or army officers. The firebrand new Prime Minister, Patrice Lumumba, had just four years of secondary school education plus one year in a technical college for postal clerks (p.95).
  5. With the result that within days of winning independence on 1 June 1960, Congo collapsed into chaos.

The army mutinied, the entire province of Katanga tried to secede, riots in the main cities included attacks on whites so that the entire Belgian community i.e. everyone who knew how to run the infrastructure of the country, fled in panic. Profile of the hectic unpredictable character of Lumumba, and the long dismal series of events which led, first to his arrest and, eventually, to his murder by Belgian and Congolese soldiers on the orders of his one-time lieutenant, Joseph-Désiré Mobutu, with the collusion of the UN and US, on 17 January 1961.

The stream of crises continued until Mobutu took power in a definitive military coup in 1965, and was to rule a one-party state for 32 years, until 1997.

7. The White South

South Africa

Meredith points out that the southern nations of Africa – north and south Rhodesia, south-west Africa and South Africa – looked at the other African countries gaining independence and were horrified by what they saw, especially the complete chaos punctuated by bloodbaths and military coups in Congo.

The fiercest response was in South Africa which in 1948 had established the system of apartheid and spent the next decades hardening the division between whites and blacks. Meredith chronicles the early history of the African National Congress (ANC), revolving round the figure of Nelson Mandela and the failure of peaceful efforts to counter apartheid. Peaceful protests such as general strikes became harder to justify after the SA authorities carried out the Sharpeville massacre on 21 March 1960, killing 69 protesters and injuring 180.

The more violent atmosphere heralded by the massacre led the ANC to establish the armed wing of the struggle, uMkhonto we Sizwe, in 1961. These guys carried out a not very effective sabotage campaign against a variety of infrastructure targets. In 1962 Mandela was arrested and imprisoned, despite a lack of evidence against him. But then in 1964 the authorities discovered the ANC and uMkhonto we Sizwe hideout at Rivonia, which was stuffed with incriminating documents. On the basis of these, Mandela was retried and, along with the key leadership of the ANC and uMkhonto, sentenced to life imprisonment on 12 June 1964.

Rhodesia

Meredith gives the history of Rhodesia, taking in the creation of the two independence parties, ZANU and ZAPU, up until November 1965 when Ian Smith‘s Rhodesian Front government, rebelling against pressure to grant Black independence, issued a Unilateral Declaration of Independence (UDI) from the mother government in the UK.

Angola

Angola was a backwater of the mouldering Portuguese empire, which was ruled by the dictator António de Oliveira Salazar. In 1956 the People’s Movement for the Liberation of Angola (Movimento Popular de Libertação de Angola or MPLA) was founded but police swoops in 1959 and 1960 arrested most of its leaders. In 1961 the colony was horrified by an outbreak of extreme violence in the north, where machete-wielding gangs massacred white bosses and the Blacks who worked for them. This was partly the work of a different group, the União dos Povos de Angola (UPA), run by Holden Roberto.

Mozambique

On the other side of the continent, in the other Portuguese colony, Mozambique, 1962 saw the creation of the Frente de Libertação de Moçambique (FRELIMO) which commenced a campaign of small-scale guerrilla attacks against border posts etc.

Dates of independence

1956 – Sudan, Morocco, Tunisia

1957 – Ghana

1958 – Guinea

1960 – Cameroon, Senegal, Togo, Mali, Madagascar, Democratic Republic of Congo (Belgian), Somalia, Benin, Niger, Burkina Faso, Ivory Coast, Chad, Central African Republic, Republic of Congo (France), Gabon, Nigeria, Mauritania,

1961 – Sierra Leone, Tanganyika

1962 – Burundi, Rwanda, Algeria, Uganda

1963 – Kenya, Zanzibar

1964 – Nyasaland (Malawi), North Rhodesia (Zambia)

1965 – Gambia

1966 – Botswana, Lesotho

1975 – Angola, Mozambique

1980 – Zimbabwe

1990 – Namibia

1993 – Eritrea

2011 – South Sudan

Part 2

8. The Birth of Nations

A chapter summarising the dire state of the geography and economies of most African nations at independence, and the consequent economic challenges they faced. It’s here that Meredith gives the shocking figures about the lack of African graduates or professionals right across the continent.

9. The First Dance of Freedom

Abandoning democracy

Meredith laments that almost all the new national leaders consciously disavowed democracy and instituted one-party rule. It’s interesting to read their justifications. It was claimed that democracy derived from advanced societies with well-defined classes and class interests which could be represented by political parties. By contrast, leaders like Nkomo and Kenyatta argued that while parties may have been necessary to organise and motivate different groupings in the fight against colonialism, now the colonialists had left and the nations were free, democracy represented a threat to African countries because the likelihood was that parties would come to be based on tribal or regional allegiances and so work to split and divide the nation. There’s actually a lot to this argument, as that’s what many African parties came to be, fronts for specific tribes or regional interests.

One-party rule

Regardless of the justifications, almost all the first leaders of the newly independent African nations went on to abolish democracy, establish one-party rule, declare themselves presidents for life, lock up any opposition figures (p.176), create cults of their greatness (p.180), set up a secret police which was told it could go to any lengths to save the state from communist or capitalist or imperialist subversion etc etc. These cults often took the name of the Great Leader – Nasserism, Nkrumahism and so on (p.163).

Corruption

And misuse money, in two specific ways: 1) instituting state-sponsored corruption at every level of society, while 2) spending fortunes on grandiose building projects, palaces, mansions, waterfront hotels. Presidents, ministers and powerful figures swiftly awarded themselves ‘the platinum lifestyle’ (p.171).While Nkrumah was crapping on about ‘African socialism’ his ministers made fortunes. Ghanaian minister Krobo Edusei caused a scandal when his wife ordered a £3,000 gold-plated bed from a London store. In later life he admitted to owning 14 homes, a luxury beach house, a London flat, expensive cars and six different bank accounts. African socialism.

Army coups

In 1958 in Sudan the army took control in Sudan from squabbling politicians. In 1963 Togo’s president was shot dead in a coup. In 1964 African mobs overthrew rule by the Arab elite and the sultan was forced to flee, the French army had to put down military coups in Gabon and Cameroon, while the British army suppressed army mutinies in Tanganyika, Uganda and Kenya. From 1965 coups became more frequent: in 1965 Algeria’s first leader was deposed; Mobutu overthrew president Joseph Kasa-Vubu in Congo; there was a military coup in Benin; Colonel Jean-Bedel Bokassa seized power in the Central African Republic, and so on.

10. Feet of Clay (Ghana)

An extended description of Kwame Nkrumah’s slow descent into authoritarian rule, isolation, paranoia, arbitrary arrest of opponents, accompanied by rising corruption. Meredith makes the pretty well-known point that patronage and corruption weren’t parasites on the system which could be eliminated; they were the system.

A detailed account of how Nkrumah destroyed the Ghana economy through mismanagement, ignorance, terrible accounting, disastrous decisions and so on. Incompetence on a national scale, plus classic withdrawal into dictator paranoia. And, also classically, when the army intervened it wasn’t for the good of the country – they’d happily watched it go to wrack and ruin – it was because Nkrumah started tampering with it, wishing to bring it directly under his control as he had done every other aspect of Ghanaian life. So it was that while Nkrumah was visiting China in 1966, the army deposed him. Joyous crowds celebrated in the streets, his statues was pulled down and portraits defaced. The kind of thing we were to see scores and scores of times in developing countries around the world over the past 60 years.

11. A House Divided (Nigeria)

Nigeria. Meredith explains the entirely tribal basis and vicious infighting of Nigerian politics which led up to the January 1966 military coup, in which the Supreme Council of the Revolution not just sacked but executed civilian politicians. And the complicated rivalries between North, West and East Nigeria which led leaders in the East to declare independence as Biafra, and the 3-year-long war which followed, in which up to 2 million Nigerians died.

12. Death of an Emperor (Ethiopia)

An entertaining account of the elaborate ritual which surrounded the Emperor Haile Selassie and the surprisingly aggressive imperial campaigns which had doubled his country’s size, starting back in the time of his ancestor Menelek (ruled 1889 to 1913), including the annexation of Eritrea and contested parts of Somaliland.

In the early 1970s mismanagement, especially of a famine in Wollo, protests by various sectors, and Selassie’s hastening senility, emboldened a group of army officers, who called themselves the Derg, to stage a coup in stages throughout 1974, which ended with the complete overthrow of Selassie on 12 September. In November the junta executed 60 former officials of the imperial government plus dissident elements within the Derg itself, by firing squad, and Ethiopia was declared a republic to be governed on Marxist-Leninist lines.

  • The Emperor: Downfall of an Autocrat by Ryszard Kapuściński (1978)

13. The Coming of Tyrants

After the first few heroic years of optimism, the military coups began. But worse was the advent of the monsters: Abaid Karume in Zanzibar (1964 to 1972); Jean-Bedel Bokassa in the Central African Republic (1966 to 1979); Idi Amin in Uganda (1971 to 1979); Francisco Nguema in Equatorial Guinea (1968 to 1979); Mengistu Haile Mariam in Ethiopia (1977 to 1991).

14. In Search of Ujamaa (Tanzania)

Julius Nyerere in Tanzania. He was a committed socialist though without a socialist party or advisers. In the mid-1960s he nationalised everything in Tanzania and proclaimed this native form of socialism ujaama, which is KiSwahili for ‘familyhood’ (p.253). In 1974 this was turned into the forced movement of some 11 million peasant farmers into collective farms, which had the same kind of catastrophic effect as in the Stalin-era Ukraine or Mao’s China i.e. the collapse of agricultural productivity and widespread hunger. Nyerere had to go begging to the World Bank and IMF and food agencies for emergency food supplies. As its economy went steadily downhill, Nyerere’s one-party state did improve literacy, schools, drinking water etc, but almost entirely funded by aid from the West.

15. The Passing of the Old Guard

Ghana

Nkrumah’s sad exile in a slowly deteriorating villa in Guinea planning a triumphant return to Ghana which never took place.

Egypt

Nasser’s great dreams of leading an Arab renaissance came to nothing, attempts to unify with Syria were a fiasco, his intervention in Yemen backfired, leading up to the humiliation of the 1967 Arab-Israeli War in which the Israelis seized the Sinai with its oil wells from Egypt. Yet he remained popular and Egypt was plunged into mourning when he died in 1970 of a heart attack, aged just 52.

Kenya

Jomo Kenyatta was the opposite of Nyerere, a keen advocate of capitalism, and provided the stable political and legal framework within which private enterprise could flourish. Much of the land belonging to the white settlers, the issue behind the Mau Mau movement, was sold to Black Kenyans. During the 1970s he faced political challenges and hardened his one-party rule. His fiercest critic was found murdered etc. Late in life Kenyatta slowly lost interest in ruling, preferring to concoct complex riddles. He died peacefully in 1978.

Senegal

President Léopold Senghor remained strongly Francophile, committed to maintaining links with France, accepting French capital in business and retaining French troops to safeguard his regime. In France he was a noted poet. In 1976 he bucked the one-party trend of his neighbours by allowing the establishment of two new political parties. In 1980 he handed over power to his protégé, becoming the first African ruler to relinquish power voluntarily.

Guinea

The first president of Guinea, Ahmed Sékou Touré, created a paranoid atmosphere of permanent plots which he claimed to uncover and used to arrest, torture and publicly execute opponents, real or imagined. A fifth of the population fled abroad. Touré nationalised industries, persecuted independent businesses, created parastatal agencies, so that the economy tanked and was, eventually, only surviving on western aid. After 20 years of enforced socialism, he began to relent and allow some elements of private enterprise.

16. The Slippery Slope

An overview of the calamitous economic issues which hit Africa in the 1970s and 80s, being:

  • famine and drought
  • the two oil shocks of the 1970s
  • the collapse of commodity prices on which most African states depended for foreign revenue
  • the disastrous loss of agricultural land, soil degradation and desertification

On top of all this, an explosive growth in population.

17. The Great Plunderer (Zaire)

This refers to Joseph-Désiré Mobutu, who ruled Congo from the date of his second military coup in 1965 to his overthrow by the forces invading from Rwanda in 1997. During those 32 long years he changed the country’s name to Zaire, Africanised all placenames (Leopoldville > Kinshasa, Elizabethville > Lubumbashi) and even his own name, changing it to Mobutu Sese Seko Kuku Ngbendu Wa Za Banga.

Mobutu nationalised agriculture, seized all businesses from foreign owners, causing a collapse in the country’s economy, and looted it on a grand scale, siphoning vast amounts into private bank accounts. Probably the greatest African kleptocrat, he was said to have stolen up to $15 billion. The Americans supported him on the simple Cold War basis that he was fiercely anti-communist and so maintained the centre of Africa against any Soviet influence. Mobutu was an honoured guest of US presidents from John F Kennedy to George Bush. Meredith doesn’t need to comment.

18. White Dominoes (Mozambique, Angola)

Portugal was the last European country to decolonise. Independence movements in its two main African colonies, Angola and Mozambique, commenced military activities in 1961, leading to what became known as the Portuguese Colonial War (1961 to 1974).

In 1968 Portugal’s long-serving dictator, António de Oliveira Salazar, was replaced by another authoritarian ruler, Marcello Caetano. He inherited military operations in Portugal’s main two African colonies, Angola and Mozambique. However, junior army officers had become unhappy with the way the army seemed like it was committed forever to these ruinous, unwinnable wars and so, on 25 April 1974, carried out the Carnation Revolution, overthrowing Caetano. Portugal’s new military rulers set out to divest themselves of her colonies immediately. Small Guinea-Bissau was easily granted independence in 1973.

Mozambique

In Mozambique the main liberation force had been the Front for the Liberation of Mozambique (FRELIMO) led by the zealous Marxist, Samora Machel. Terrified by the fire-breathing rhetoric of Marxist Machal, in the year between the declaration of independence in 1974 and its legal implementation on 25 June 1975, most of the 250,000 Portuguese in Mozambique fled the country, including all the civil servants, administrators, managers of the infrastructure and all businesses.

Frelimo passed a law ordering the remaining Portuguese to leave the country in 24 hours with only 20 kilograms (44 pounds) of luggage. Unable to salvage any of their assets, most of them returned to Portugal penniless, leaving a country empty of experienced administrators, engineers and so on.

Frelimo commenced an aggressive implementation of Marxism-Leninism which proved a disaster: central planning was as badly managed here as in most other African countries, leading to economic collapse, inflation, shortages of everything but especially food. Industrial output and agriculture collapsed leading to widespread famine. Frelimo eventually generated so much opposition that the anti-communist forces united to form the Mozambican National Resistance (RENAMO) rebel militias.

Renamo found backing from South Africa and the US. Civil war between Frelimo and Renamo was to consume 15 ruinous years from 1977 to 1992. An estimated one million Mozambicans perished during the civil war, with somewhere between 300,000 and 600,000 dying of famine. 1.7 million Mozambicans took refuge in neighbouring states, and several million more were internally displaced.

Angola

Something similar happened in Angola. As the deadline for independence approached, three rebel or independence groups/parties/armies vied for power, being the FNLA, MPLA and UNITA. As violence broke out most of the white Portuguese fled and the country collapsed into a civil war between what emerged as the two main forces, the communist People’s Movement for the Liberation of Angola (MPLA) and the anti-communist National Union for the Total Independence of Angola (UNITA). The civil war lasted from 1975, with interludes, until 2002. See:

Part 3

19. Red Tears (Ethiopia)

How in 1974 the Provisional Military Administrative Committee (PMAC) of army officers, also known as the Derg, overthrew the regime of emperor Haile Selassie. In 1977 Colonel Mengistu Haile Mariam seized full control and initiated a wave of repression which became known as the Red Terror. During this two-year campaign as many as 50,000 Ethiopians were arrested, tortured and executed. The Derg dumped the corpses in the street and gained notoriety by demanding that families of the executed pay for the bullets. Marxist-Leninist housekeeping.

Meredith explains how Mengistu’s Marxist-Leninist policies, along with his brutal campaigns against Eritrean and Tigrayan separatists in the north, helped bring about the great Ethiopia famine of 1984 which led to Live Aid. At the time more than half of Ethiopia’s annual budget was devoted to maintaining an army of 300,000 (armed and supplied by Soviet Russia) in order to carry out operations against the Tigrayan People’s Liberation Front (p.334).

Mengistu was a doctrinaire Marxist who believed in collectivising agriculture and enforcing super low prices in order to provide subsidised food for his key constituencies in the cities. The detailed chronicle of his deliberate ignoring of the famine, attempts to deny it, to prevent journalists or aid agencies entering the famine-stricken areas, and then the politically motivated strategy of moving hundreds of thousands of starving people against their will from the north (close to where Eritrean separatists operated) to the more secure south where they had no homes or livelihoods, makes for terrible reading. What a complete bastard.

The title of this chapter comes from a memoir of his time in Mengistu’s government written by a defector from the Derg, Dawit Wolde Giorgis, ‘Red Tears: War, Famine and Revolution in Ethiopia’. In the words of reviewer Mohammed Hassen, this exposes ‘the callous brutality of the Ethiopian government towards its own people’, and the leaders of the Derg as ‘uninformed, anti-people, anti-democratic criminal thugs’ (Online review).

20. Fault Lines (Chad, Sudan)

Chad

Across the north of Africa is a line between the Arab Muslim north and the start of the Black African and often Christian south. Meredith gives a long, detailed and deeply depressing account of the north-south conflict in Chad, in which both sides massacred each other and Colonel Gaddafi, in power in Libya from 1969 onwards, took advantage by trying to seize northern Chad and, at his most ambitious, declared the unification of Chad with Libya – under his supreme control, of course.

Sudan

To the East, the equally long-running and demoralising war between Muslim north and Christian south Sudan. A key aspect of the backstory to both conflicts is that the northern Muslims had, for centuries, captured southern blacks as slaves as part of the widespread Arab slave trade. In fact Meredith records Arab militias capturing and enslaving Black southerners in the 1980s, all accompanied by vitriolic racism about the Blacks being sub-humans etc. About the Atlantic slave trade I hear on a daily basis and in virtually every art exhibition I go to; about the Arab slave trade, never.

21. The Scourge of AIDS

The interesting point is the number of African governments which refused to acknowledge AIDS or dismissed it as a racist Western conspiracy, with the result that many African countries didn’t commence AIDS-awareness campaigns till the 1990s by which time the disease had taken hold in their populations. Two notable exceptions were Senegal under Abdou Diouf, and Uganda under the leadership of Yoweri Museveni. Respect.

22. The Lost Decade

A detailed look at the economic collapse of almost all African countries by the 1980s so that they became increasingly dependent on foreign aid, on loans which needed to be continually rescheduled, and the accompanying demands from the IMF and World Bank for ‘structural reforms’. Through mismanagement, drought, civil war, collapse of commodity prices, most African countries became dependent on aid from the West.

What comes over, and is expressed in terms by African commentators themselves, is what condemned Africa to becoming the most backward and poverty-stricken of the world’s continents was the appalling quality of African leaders – tyrants, dictators but, above all, thieves, on an epic, mind-boggling scale.

23. The Struggle for Democracy

The long hold on power of Africa’s strong men, the generation who took power at independence and often clung on to it for 25 years or more, for example:

  • Gnassingbé Eyadéma of Togo (president for 38 years)
  • Omar Bongo in Gabon (41 years)
  • Félix Houphouët-Boigny of Côte d’Ivoire (president for 33 years)
  • Mobutu in Zaire (32 years)
  • Hastings Banda in Malawi (30 years)
  • Kenneth Kaunda in Zambia (27 years)
  • Moussa Traore in Mali (22 years)

Of the 50 African states in 1990, almost all were one-party states or military dictatorships.

The fall of the Berlin wall and collapse of the Soviet Union in 1991 ushered in a new era. One party regimes and Marxist regimes appeared old-fashioned overnight. But the strong men clung on in the new landscape, for example Mobutu who struggled on for another 7 years.

24. A Time of Triumph (South Africa)

A long and harrowing description of ‘grand’ apartheid in all its totalitarian, racist horror. Meredith gives an interesting explanation of the changes in international affairs and geopolitics during the late 1980s which led the apartheid leadership to consider sweeping reform. He ends with a moving account of negotiations with Nelson Mandela, climaxing with his release and then the first free, multi-racial elections in South Africa’s history.

Apart from the long, complex history of violence, guerrilla warfare, civil war between the ANC and Inkatha, South Africa’s interference in all the nations bordering it and so on – on a human level I learned that a) Mandela and the last apartheid leader, F.W. de Klerk, really didn’t get on, and that b) when his marriage to wife Winnie Mandela ended, she very publicly took a much younger lover and embarrassed him in public (‘Mandela’s late years of freedom were constantly blighted by her wayward example’), leaving him an often lonely figure (p.438).

Part 4

25. In The Name of the Prophet (Egypt, Algeria, Sudan)

Sayyid Qutb

The imperialists had oppressed them. Secular nationalism was a failure. The first generation of post-independence rulers turned out to be corrupt tyrants. Socialism and Marxism turned out to be dead ends. Following the Iranian revolution of 1979 there began a revival of political Islam which seemed to many ordinary people a last resort, given that all western political systems and theories had failed. Political Islam encouraged the idea that western concepts like democracy or capitalism were infidel and inappropriate to Muslim lands, and that only return to the purity of the Prophet’s laws and rules would restore society.

The principal architect of jihad ideology [was] Sayyid Qutb…whose writings influenced generations of radical Islamists. (p.444)

Qutb, an Egyptian who supported the Muslim Brotherhood, was imprisoned by Colonel Nasser, then executed in 1965 – but not before he’d developed, written and distributed a starkly simplistic view of Islam. According to Qutb the entire Muslim world can be divided into the Party of God and the Party of Satan with no middle ground. Repressive regimes cannot be changed from within and so must be overthrown by jihad i.e. armed struggle.

Any land that hampered the practice of Islam or failed to apply sharia law was ipso facto part of Dar el-Harb – the Abode of War. ‘It should be combated even if one’s own kith and kin, national group, capital and commerce are to be found there.’ (p.444)

This is really, really important. Qutb’s writings are crucial to understanding the modern age. His simplistic binary worldview, and his insistence that democracy, nationalism, human rights and all those other ideas, are infidel western abominations – all this explains the wars which have steadily engulfed the Arab/Muslim world in the last 30 years.

Qutb’s writings explain why generations of jihadis have been convinced that the only honourable and devout course of action is to fight your enemies to extermination. His writings have hugely contributed to instability right across the Arab world and are the ideological background to jihadis fighting in Afghanistan, Iraq, Syria, Yemen, Libya and Sudan. Meredith mentions a couple of other Muslim thinkers:

  • cleric Omar Abdel Rahman who taught that jihad was the only way to vanquish the enemies of Islam (p.445)
  • Muhammed al-Farag, who taught that jihad is the sixth pillar of Islam and that armed struggle is imperative for all true Muslims in order to cure a decadent society: ‘the first battlefield for jihad is the extermination of these infidel leaders and to replace them with a complete Islamic Order’ (p.446)

Only jihad can bring about the perfect Islamic society. Jihad must be waged until the perfect Islamic society is achieved. But there are many forces resisting this, the obvious outside forces of America and the West, but also the populations of many of these countries. So the kind of perfect Islamic state the jihadis dream of will probably never be achieved. Therefore the Muslim world, certainly in the Middle East and North Africa, is condemned to permanent war or insurgency for the foreseeable future.

Algeria

The Front de libération nationale (FLN) had been the main force behind the long bloody war for the independence of Algeria from France. After independence was finally granted in 1962, the FLN became the party of government, instituting socialist policies and a one-party regime. Meredith lists the reasons why the FLN slowly became unpopular. Two stick out. One was that they downplayed agriculture in a bid to industrialise, keeping food prices artificially low in order to placate their constituencies in the towns and cities. The result was that life as a farmer got harder and harder, with many rural youths deciding to quit the poverty of the countryside and try their luck in the city. This is interesting because it’s an abiding theme of so many of these countries. If I could travel back in time to the early 60s and was an adviser to newly independent African nations, I’d say: ‘Cherish your farmers’. In Algeria, as everywhere else, neglecting and even undermining agriculture led to the country becoming ever more reliant on food imports.

The second is the explosion in population. I am a Darwinian materialist, a believer in the blunt facts of the environment and biology a long way before culture and politics. Thus the simple relevant fact is that the population of Algeria exploded from 10 million in 1962 to 26 million in 1992. No rate of economic growth, anywhere, could keep up with this explosion in mouths to feed and, more to the point, young men to employ.

Groups of young men hanging round on street corners become a prey to warlords and the siren call of violent revolution. This is true all round the developing world. The West supplied the medicines to developing countries which hugely improved infant mortality and recovery from illness, but without doing anything to transform a) cultural attitudes to women and childbirth or b) expand the economies. Result: lots of aimless young men looking for a cause.

Enter radical Islam which promises a better world, which gives young men a purpose, a goal, a sense of identity, and money and respect. What’s not to like, what’s not to sign up and commit your life to?

As radical Islamic parties began to appear in Algeria the military command which called the shots in the FLN tried to cancel them. After complicated manoeuvres the FLN agreed to hold free elections and Islamic parties stood in them. But when the Islamists looked like winning, the FLN abruptly cancelled the results and took back military control. The rest of the story could have been written by an AI bot. The Islamists hit back with a terror campaign, the army cracked down, arbitrarily arresting thousands, imprisonment without trial, torture etc, the Islamists ramped up their campaign, and so on.

Again, with utter inevitability, the insurgency spawned an extremist wing, the Groupe Islamique Armé (GIA). With utter predictability they started off saying they’d stick to military targets but soon found these too well protected and their attacks having less and less affect so they widened their targets. Journalists were singled out, but more and more members of the general public were also murdered. Abdelkader Hattab wrote a pamphlet titled: ‘Throat-slitting and murder until the power is God’s’ (p.457).

As in Iraq, in order to build the perfect Islamic state, it turned out to be necessary to kill lots of Muslims, first hundreds, then thousands, then tens of thousands, and eventually hundreds of thousands.

What became known as the Algerian Civil War lasted from 1991 to 2002 and led to around 150,000 deaths. Of course the economy was wrecked. Of course a lot of the best and brightest middle classes simply fled abroad.

Egypt

I visited Egypt in 1981 and then in 1995, just before Islamist terror groups began attacking tourists. Groups like Jamaat al-Jihad and Gamma Islamiyya increasingly targeted government officials, intellectuals, journalists and foreign tourists. They attacked and murdered Coptic Christians, burned Christian shops and churches, and bookshops and theatres and video stores. Farag Foda, one of Egypt’s best known writers, was shot dead. The Nobel laureate Naguib Mahfouz was knifed. ‘Throat-slitting and murder until the power is God’s’, in practice.

Then they started attacking tourists: in 1996 17 Greek pilgrims were murdered outside their hotel. In 1997 58 foreign tourists were murdered in the Valley of the Kings. Meredith tells us that a Japanese man was eviscerated and inside his stomach cavity was stuffed a note reading: ‘No to tourists in Egypt’ (p.461). Fine by me. I’m never going back to a Muslim country.

Egypt’s president, Hosni Mubarak, had come to power after the assassination of his predecessor Anwar Sadat by army Islamists in 1981. Now Mubarak set about crushing the Islamic groups ruthlessly, telling his own people and the international community that he wouldn’t let Egypt become the next Algeria. This chapter takes the story up to 2000, when Mubarak was arresting members of the Muslim Brotherhood and other Islamic organisations to prevent them standing in that year’s elections.

26. Black Hawk Down (Somalia)

The first fact about Somalia is that, at independence, about 40% of the people who thought of themselves as Somalis lived outside the borders of the country, in Ethiopia or Kenya. So from the day of independence the government neglected agriculture and the economy and focused on military action to try and extend its borders to include the full population.

Second fact is the Somalis have a strong and complex clan system, clans within clans, which extends in a hierarchy from the five main super-clans down through ever-diminishing sub-clans. So:

  1. Never-ending warfare helped impoverish the country, especially after the Soviet Union dropped its support for Somalia in favour of Mengistu’s Marxist revolution in neighbouring Ethiopia.
  2. As central government collapsed under the pressure of military defeats, poverty, famine and so on, the country disintegrated into a warzone of permanently fighting, feuding clans, at multiple levels, with warlords ruling their territories through terror.

27. The Graves Are Not Yet Full (Rwanda)

The Rwandan genocide. I’ve summarised the dreadful events elsewhere. I’ll just pick up on two related themes, mentioned re. Algeria. 1) the population of Rwanda ballooned from 2 million in 1940 to 7 million in 1990, which led to 2) lots of unemployed youths hanging around, waiting for a cause and meaning (and cash):

Youths with no prospect of work were easily recruited [into the interahamwe) with promises of land, jobs and other rewards… (p.496)

The French government of François Mitterrand comes over as the genocide-supporting scumbags indicated by all the other accounts. For example, it was the French government which refused the Belgian request to increase the number of the latter’s peacekeepers, so that Belgians ended up being forced to watch Tutsis being hacked to death in front of them but were unable to intervene. Because of France (p.510).

Mitterrand was determined to prevent a Rwandan Patriotic Front (RPF) victory in Rwanda even if it meant continuing to collaborate with genocidal killers. (p.519)

France made five arms shipments to the Hutu government while it was carrying out the genocide. Bastard Mitterrand sent a French force into Rwanda to protect the Hutu Power génocidaires (the equivalent of protecting the SS). Meredith tells of French soldiers slowly realising that the Hutus they had been sent to protect were in fact genocidal killers and realising that their government (Mitterrand) had lied to them. The piles and piles of Tutsi corpses were a clue. But the French government refused to allow their troops on the ground to track down and bring to justice the génocidaires hiding among the mass Hutu refugees who fled into Congo, once the Tutsi-led RPF reactivated the civil war and invaded in order to end the killing.

To the end, the French protected the organisers of the genocide. (p.522)

We’re never meant to forget the Holocaust. Well, in the same spirit, surely we should never forgive the arms and aid and support and protection the French government extended to the perpetrators of the second most horrific genocide of the twentieth century.

Mind you, Meredith goes on to paint the UN as far worse, biased towards Hutu president, Juvénal Habyarimana, ignoring reports from the Canadian commander of the UN force on the ground, UNAMIR, General Roméo Dallaire. And then the Belgian government, which withdrew their contingent altogether, abandoning thousands of Tutsis who had taken shelter in their compounds and who were hacked to pieces within hours of their abandonment (p.512). And the Americans behaved disgracefully, Bill Clinton doing everything he could to avoid using the G word (genocide) and refusing to commit troops. Everyone in a position of power in the West let the genocide happen.

More Tutsis were killed in churches than any other type of building, although a lot were killed in maternity wards where a lot had their bellies ripped open and their babies hacked to pieces before they themselves were hacked to death.

Some people still believe in the essential goodness of the human race. Such innocence is touching, charming, but dangerous.

28. Where Vultures Fly (the two Congo wars)

Who supported Mobutu after he had reduced Zaire to starving ruins? France. Why? Because he spoke French. Because he represented la francophonie. Because he represented a bulwark against the rise of the beastly English-speaking leaders such as Museveni of Uganda. France supported mass murderers and world-beating kleptocrats because their crimes were less important than the preservation of ‘French culture’ (p.525). Look at their wise and good achievements in the realm of international affairs: Vietnam. Algeria. Models of wisdom and statecraft. And Vichy, when millions of French people wholeheartedly co-operated with German Nazis whose values they enthusiastically endorsed.

This is not an exaggeration. When considering international affairs, it’s important to bear in mind what despicable depths the French establishment’s paranoid fear of the English-speaking world drives them. James Barr describes the despicable behaviour of the French in Lebanon and Syria during the Second World War:

This chapter describes how the million and a half Hutu refugees from Rwanda were crammed into refugee camps, mostly in Congo, where the Hutu Power génocidaires rebuilt their power, controlled the distribution of aid, murdered dissenting voices, kept the refugees in line with terror, while they sold some of the aid the West gave them in order to buy arms to re-invade Rwanda and resume attacking Tutsi communities.

Meredith explains how the leader of the RPF, Paul Kagame, conspired with President of Uganda Mouseveni to invade eastern Zaire, to crush the Hutu Power leaders, to force the Hutu refugees to return to their country. How they found a useful idiot from within Zaire to front the army they were creating, namely fat, stupid guerrilla turned nightclub-owner Laurent-Désiré Kabila.

The combined RPF and Ugandan army force which Kabila fronted not only liberated the Hutu refugee camps, but marched on Congo’s capital, Kinshasa, triggering the panic-stricken flight of the sick old dictator, Mobutu in 1997. In short order and to his own surprise, Kabila found himself in power and set about surrounding himself with cronies in the traditional style. Unwisely, he tried to bolster his support among the Congolese by turning on his Ugandan and Rwandan-Tutsi backers, whose forces were much resented in Kinshasa and beyond.

This policy badly backfired because when Kagame and Museveni found their puppet acting up against them, in 1998 they instituted a second invasion from the east, this time not marching but flying their forces direct to Kinshasa to overthrow Kabile. At this point, however, various outside countries began to get involved, several big ones supporting Kabile who had signed lucrative deals with them allowing them to plunder Congo’s natural resources.

This was the complex situation which led to what became known as the Great War of Africa. Slowly the country splintered into regions held by rival warlords or outside armies. A peace treaty was signed in 2002 which required armies from Rwanda, Burundi, Uganda, Angola and Zimbabwe to withdraw. In four years of chaotic conflict (1998 to 2002) some 3 million Africans had died, mostly unarmed Congolese civilians. But even after the peace treaty, fighting continued in east Congo, and continues at a low level to this day.

29. Blood Diamonds (Liberia, Sierra Leone)

Liberia

Meredith recaps the extraordinary early history of Liberia, a colony on the west coast of Africa funded in 1822 by guilt-stricken liberal Americans who wanted to return some of their slaves to the motherland. Instead, the few thousand returned Blacks ended up creating their own version of slavery, subjugating the poor locals, exploiting their labour, building homes and dressing in the elaborate nineteenth century style of their former American oppressors. Now the immigrant Blacks oppressed the locals. The Americo-Liberians amounted to no more than 1% of the population but lorded it over the indigenes.

In a neat historical irony, in 1931 an international commission found members of the entirely Black Liberian government guilty of involvement in organised slavery (p.546).

But it the story stops being in any way funny when in April 1980 Master Sergeant Samuel Doe led a coup which overturned a century of Americo-Liberian rule. Semi-literate, Doe came from a minority tribe, the Krahn, from the deep jungle. He and colleagues broke into the mansion of President William Tolbert to complain about unpaid wages. Finding him asleep in bed they shot him multiple times before disembowelling him and dumping his body in the garden. This was the coup where Tolbert’s cabinet ministers were taken down to the beach, tied to posts and shot by a squad of drunken soldiers. I remember seeing the video on the news. This set the tone of ten years of savage, primitive, ignorant, incompetent rule.

Like all stupid people, Doe thought the world revolved around him and thus saw conspiracies everywhere. His comms people publicised the idea that he had survived 38 or more assassination attempts because of his magical powers, because bullets stopped in mid-air, knives refused to cut him, and so on – fairy tales designed to appeal to the largely illiterate population.

In August 1984 Doe arrested a popular university lecturer and 15 colleagues claiming they were planning a coup. When students protested, Doe sent a troop of soldiers who opened fire indiscriminately, stripped students naked, demanded money and/or raped them (p.551). This all made me think of all Kwame Nkrumah’s speeches from the 1950s and 60s about ‘Africa for Africans’, ‘African values’, how a liberated Africa would become a beacon of progress and civilisation…

Throughout all the mayhem the US government stood by Doe, declaring his obviously rigged elections valid, overlooking his brutal massacres, upping annual aid to $80 million, and inviting him to the White House for red carpet treatment. Why? Because he was staunchly anti-Soviet. That’s all that mattered (p.555).

In November 1985 General Thomas Quiwonkpa, who had led the 1980 coup along with Doe, tried to seize power and there was premature rejoicing – until Doe managed to regain control, hunt down Quiwonkpa and have him kicked and hacked to death, followed by even harsher crackdowns on the population, which including victimisation of the entire Gio tribe which Quiwonkpa came from.

In 1989 another former colleague, Charles Taylor, led a militia into Liberia from neighbouring Ivory Coast, thus commencing a guerrilla war against Doe. Doe sent out death squads to devastate villages in the regions Taylor had seized. Taylor armed children (‘Small Boy Units’) and told them to kill everyone. The country descended into barbarity.

Bolstered by cane spirit, marijuana and cheap amphetamines, youths and boy soldiers evolved into psychopathic killers, adorning themselves with women’s wigs, dresses, fright masks and enemy bones and smearing their faces with white clay and make-up in the belief that this gave them supernatural perception…’It’s a children’s war,’ said a senior United Nations observer. ‘Kids get promoted in rank for committing an atrocity. They can cut off someone’s head without thinking. The troops move into a village. They take everything and kill and rape. They stay a couple of weeks and then move on.’ (p.558)

It’s interesting to read that many of the stoned fighters thought that wearing wigs or dresses i.e. adopting two identities, would confuse enemy bullets. Traditional African values. Reminds me of the website I found last time I was reading about this subject, a collection of photos of the surreal garb of drug-addled psychopathic militia men.

In 1989 a colleague of Taylor’s named Prince Johnson split off from Taylor’s army to set up the Independent National Patriotic Front of Liberia, with the result that Liberia became caught in a three-way civil war. Or just – war. Marauding soldiers from each side burned, looted, raped and massacred at will. Half the population fled the country. Nigeria sent a peacekeeping force which didn’t establish any kind of peace but secured a few buildings in the capital Monrovia. When Doe drove down to the port to greet them, he was captured by Prince Johnson’s men.

Johnson ordered a video to be made of his men torturing a badly battered Doe, including the moments when they sliced his ears off. The video became a bestseller across West Africa. You can watch it on YouTube and reflect on the speeches of Kwame Nkrumah explaining how African values would civilise the world.

Inevitably, the African peacekeeping force turned out to be every bit as corrupt and lawless as the militias they were sent to police, giving warlords weapons in exchange for looted goods, leading to the joke that ECOMOG stood for ‘Every Car Or Moving Object Gone’.

Taylor established control everywhere outside the capital, and came to commercial arrangements with western companies to allow trade to continue. In two years he’s estimated to have raked off £200 million from these gangster deals.

Sierra Leone

The chaos from Liberia then spilled over into neighbouring Sierra Leone. This country was already a basket case due to the 17-year, one-party rule of President Siaka Steven whose regime made a fortune trading diamonds via Lebanese dealers, while the economy languished, government employees went unpaid, and gangs of youths filled the streets looking for a cause. The usual.

The force Taylor sent into Sierra Leone in March 1991 called itself the Revolutionary United Front (RUF) and was led by the psychopath, Foday Sankoh. This was the group Anthony Loyd writes about terrifyingly in Another Bloody Love Letter. Child soldiers became a key feature of Sierra Leone’s civil war. They were given drugs, indoctrinated and taught to kill. Some had to kill their own parents as an initiation test. Some hated it, wanted to leave but were afraid of themselves being killed. But others loved it. As researchers Krijn Peters and Paul Richards concluded:

‘The pay may be derisory but weapon training pays quicker dividends than school ever did; soon the AK47 brings food, money, a warm bath and instant adult respect. The combat groups substitutes for lost family and friends.’ (quoted page 563)

Like the white overseers in King Leopold’s Congo, the RUF took to hacking off the hands and limbs of civilians, at random, purely for the terror it created. Hundreds of thousands of civilians fled their homes. A coup in the capital brought Valentine Strasser to power. He paid a firm of mercenaries, Executive Outcomes, to clear the capital Freetown in exchange for rights to the country’s diamond mines. Executive Outcomes fighters cleared Freetown in one week, testament to the shoddy, amateurish character of the African fighters on all sides.

More splinter groups, more coups, more fighting, 14 attempts at a ceasefire, tens of thousands more hand choppings and mutilations. A final ceasefire brought UN intervention. But when the UN went to seize the diamond mines, in 2000, the RUF captured 500 of its peacekeepers. It was now that Britain sent in a full battle force to release the UN troops, seize government buildings and train the SL army. Sankoh was arrested and the RUF splintered into ineffectual groups. In the wake of the British intervention, the UN deployed 18,000 troops to bring about a comprehensive peace.

Eleven years of war had left 50,000 dead, 20,000 mutilated, three quarters of the population displaced, and Sierra Leone at the bottom of the league of human development. Back in Liberia, Charles Taylor amassed a huge fortune from illegal diamond trading. His overthrow in 2003 was as violent and brutal as his coming to power, with two more factions, groups or militias murdering and raping their way to the capital. Eventually Taylor was forced out but flew peacefully to Nigeria to take up life in a comfortable retirement villa. There is no justice on earth, nothing like justice.

30. No Condition Is Permanent (Nigeria)

Meredith describes the brutal rule of General Sani Abacha, military ruler from 1993 to 1998. His crackdown on all opposition. The rise of organisations representing the Ogoni people of the oil-rich Niger Delta who had seen none of the tens of billions of oil money generated around them, only the pollution and destruction of their environment. The work of the popular writer Ken Saro-Wiwa, who was eventually arrested, accused of organising an anti-government conspiracy etc and, despite international protests, executed in November 1995.

Abachi’s death in 1998 is the opportunity for a review of how far the country had fallen. Despite annual oil revenue of $280 billion, income per head was less than a third of what it had been in 1980, at $310; half the population lived on less than 30 cents a day and had no access to clean drinking water. Half of under fives were stunted due to malnutrition. Nigeria was regularly judged to be the most corrupt country in the world.

What this litany of disasters begins to impress on even the most sympathetic reader is that Africans do not seem able of running their own countries. Catastrophic wars, epic corruption, barbaric violence resulting in crushing poverty, if the generation of independence campaigners had seen the future would they have been in such a tearing hurry to gain independence from their colonial masters?

Abachi’s death didn’t bring peace and light: the end of the military regime led to an explosion of political parties across the country, which themselves exacerbated ethnic rivalries, and also the rise of Islamic militancy, which led to clashes between Muslims and Christians. Despite free elections in 1999 and again in 2003, observers wondered whether Nigeria, a country of 120 million made up of 250 ethnic groups, was ungovernable. [That was in 2000. Nigeria’s population in 2023 has almost doubled, to 215 million.]

31. The Honour of Living (Sudan)

General Omar al-Bashir seized power in Sudan in 1989 and declared his commitment to creating an Islamic state. This was followed by the arrest of all opposition figures, torture including burning, beating and rape, the usual behaviour of leaders promising to build a better society – first you have to lock up a lot of people. 1991 saw the introduction of a new Islamic penal code: women were hounded out of public life, segregation of men and women was enforced in all public places, there was a ban on music, cinema and the compulsory Arabisation of all culture.

The ideologue of all this was Hassan al-Turabi, founder of the National Islamic Front and founder of the Muslim Brotherhood. After the first Gulf War, in 1991. Turabi set up the Popular Arab and Islamic Conference to bring together thinkers and leaders to fight back against America’s ‘colonisation’ of the Arab World. Sudan became a refuge for anti-western terrorist groups. This is very important. It marks the start of a new type of aggressive new anti-western ideology, of the war on America.

Meredith gives a good short description of the career of Osama bin Laden. In 1996 the blind cleric sheikh Omar Abdel Rahman organised the bombing of the World Trade Centre. Extremists trained in Sudan undertook assassinations and attacks across the Arab world. In 1998 activists trained by al Qaeda attacked hotels in Kenya and Tanzania, killing 263 people. Now we enter ‘the modern world’, the era we still live in in 2023, the era of unceasing conflict and Islamic insurgency across the entire Arab world.

Their Islamic ideology justified the Bashir regime in intensifying the war against southern, Black, Christian rebels. Villages were bombed, populations massacred and sold into slavery, with the blessing of Islamic scholars. The southern forces split into two parties who had a civil war between themselves in which tens of thousands of civilians died, which triggered a famine in which hundreds of thousands perished (p.594). Humans, eh? Impressive species.

Alongside massacres in the south went the discovery and exploitation of oil. The Khartoum government reaped a huge bonanza and spent it on…arms. By 2002 the civil war had left an estimated 2 million dead. But after 9/11 the Americans became active. Sudan was identified as a training base for Islamic terrorists and Bashir had to back down and promise to comply.

32. Black Gold (Angola)

The crushingly depressing history of Angola in the 1980s and 1980s, a country destroyed by an endless civil war between the supposedly ‘Marxist’ MPLA government based in Luanda, and the madly self-centred, narcissistic, overweening arrogance of Jonas Savimbi, leader of UNITA.

Land mines, aerial bombing, indiscriminate massacre, burning, looting, rape of women and children. Maybe 5 million died, many more had legs blown off by the millions of landmines, the country was laid waste – all while Eduardo dos Santos and the elite of the MPLA lived like kings by salting away the revenue derived from the huge oil deposits found just offshore. Getting on for half the annual oil revenue, billions of dollars, was stolen by dos Santos and his clique, while the children starved to death in the streets. As with Congo, or Nigeria, why give aid to oil- and resource-rich countries which have enough natural income to invest in infrastructure, roads, markets, clean water, schools, but which they either steal or spend on arms and weapons?

33. A Degree In Violence (Zimbabwe)

The slow descent into paranoid dictatorship of Robert Mugabe. I hadn’t realised that he was initially conciliatory towards the white minority, and even his arch enemy Ian Smith, for the first two or three years of his rule because his first priority was eliminating all his black rivals, starting with Joshua Nkomo and his Zimbabwe African People’s Union (ZAPU). It was called the Gukurahundi campaign (Shona for ‘the early rain which washes away the chaff before the spring rains’). During this campaign Mugabe’s notorious Fifth Brigade, trained by North Koreans, rampaged through ZAPU’s heartland, Matabeleland, and massacred thousands of civilians accused of being ‘dissidents’. Some estimates say as many as 80,000 were killed during the 5-year campaign.

Slowly Zimbabwe became like all the other African one-party states, a machine for redirecting wealth into the pockets of a small elite around the figurehead leader. As the economy collapsed and inflation and unemployment rose, so did Mugabe’s deployment of racist, anti-white rhetoric, focused on the policy of farm reclamation, seizing back land from the white farmers who owned a disproportionate amount of it. As Meredith explains, it’s all Mugabe had left, rabble-rousing racism to distract attention from the complete failure of his leadership.

Mugabe’s successive rounds of farm seizures spelled the end of commercial farming as a major industry in Zimbabwe. Many of the confiscated farms didn’t go to the deserving poor but to friends and family and tribal supporters of Mugabe, who then stripped and sold off their assets or left them to rot. Hundreds of thousands of Blacks who worked on the confiscated farms were thrown out of work. Land lay fallow. Food production collapsed. Zimbabwe, once the bread basket of southern Africa, became dependent on food aid.

By 2003 the economy had collapsed and an estimated quarter of the population had fled the country. Three-quarters of the remainder lived on less than a dollar a day. Meredith covers the coming together of opposition movements in the Movement for Democratic Change and the rise of its leader, Morgan Tsvangirai, the elections he contested in 2002 and 2008, elections Mugabe comprehensively managed with intimidation, violence and hectoring messages through state media.

Opposition activists were hunted down, beaten, tortured and in some cases murdered. (p.646)

Meredith’s narrative takes the reader up to 2008 when Mugabe, despite spending 28 years utterly devastating his country, was still in power. It was very depressing to switch to Wikipedia and see that Mugabe continued to rule the country he had ruined for another nine years, till he was overthrown in 2017.

34. Somewhere Over The Rainbow (South Africa)

The books and movies all focus on Nelson Mandela‘s long march to freedom. Not so many examine the calamitous challenges he faced on taking power in 1994: trying to reverse the best part of a century of totalitarian racism which had entrenched grotesque inequality between the affluent whites and the crushingly poor Black population; trying to integrate millions of badly educated young Africans into the economy, trying to introduce Blacks into every level of a 100% white political and civil administration and into SA’s commercial life. The army, the police, the education system, everything needed reforming.

Plus the expectations of activists at all levels who had spent a lifetime working for the ‘revolution’ which would create a land of plenty. There was an epidemic of strikes and protests or just straightforward crime. To all this Mandela had to react much like Mrs Thatcher, explaining that the state just didn’t have the resources to make everyone rich. There would have to be belt-tightening. It would take time.

Meredith has an extended passage describing the work of the Truth and Reconciliation Commission, how it struggled to find its way, was a compromise in nature and intent, but ended up unearthing far more than anyone expected. Its impartiality was emphasised by the way it was reviled by both sides, both stalwarts of the apartheid regime and the ANC itself, found guilty of murdering white civilians, Black opponents, of prosecuting a civil war with Inkatha, and the 400-plus victims of ‘necklacing’.

Meredith’s account of Mandela’s sustained efforts to achieve reconciliation between the races at every level bring a tear to the eye. What a hero.

His successor, Thabo Mbeki, elected unopposed to lead the ANC in 1997, was not a hero. Despite having been raised a communist, Mbeki promptly announced a set of neoliberal capitalist policies designed to boost the economy, namely strict fiscal discipline, lower government deficits, privatisation and liberalisation of state industries.

But Mbeki will go down in history as the man who adopted a minority view that HIV did not cause AIDS, promoted this view at every opportunity, refused to support AIDS awareness campaigns, refused to license anti-HIV drugs, for year after year, in the face of mounting criticism both within SA and internationally.

Mbeki insisted on playing the race card i.e. insisting that the global scientific consensus about HIV/AIDS was a racist attack on Black Africans on a par with apartheid. His obstinate refusal to allow anti-retroviral drugs to AIDS patients and pregnant women was calculated, by 2008, to have led to the premature deaths of 365,000 South Africans.

The greatest political challenge facing every nation is not to end up being led by idiots.

Mbeki undertook a more aggressive strategy of getting white businesses to include Black partners but, far from lifting the entire Black population out of poverty, this tended to enrich just the small number of educated, well-connected Blacks. The strategy developed into crony capitalism. Perceiving that they were being discriminated against, some 750,000 skilled whites just left the country, replaced by less qualified or experienced Blacks (p.679). Services decayed. Poverty grew alongside rising violent crime.

South Africa now has exceptionally high rates of murder, gender-based violence, robbery and violent conflict. It has consistently had one of the highest murder rates in the world.

Mbeki turned into a typical African leader. He created a climate of fear in the ANC. He emasculated parliament. He appointed officials for their loyalty to him, not their abilities. He shamefully supported Robert Mugabe even as Mugabe turned into a dictator and reduced his country to beggary.

And, falling into line with traditional African leaders, Mbeki and his cronies became involved in corruption, in particular creaming off hundreds of millions of dollars from state defence procurements. The ANC became split between the Mbeki faction and one led by Jacob Zuma, who himself was charged with money laundering, fraud and rape.

In 2007 Zuma stood against Mbeki and won the post of ANC leader, then stood for the presidency in 2009. The party split, but corruption became more embedded. The gap between rich and poor grew. Crime became the only way to survive for millions. After this book was completed Jacob Zuma went on to be elected president and serve from 2009 to 2018.

Incidentally, Meredith has written a series of books about South Africa, including a biography of Mandela, which explains the authoritativeness of his SA chapters:

  • In the Name of Apartheid: South Africa In The Post War Period (1988)
  • South Africa’s New Era: The 1994 Election (1994)
  • Nelson Mandela: A Biography (1999)
  • Coming to Terms: South Africa’s Search for Truth (2001)

35. Out of Africa

Decline

In 2001 the Organisation of African Unity was replaced by a new African Union. Same old dictators, though. Same corruption, same tribalism, same civil wars. Same population explosion which means half the population live below the poverty line, same huge unemployment, with millions permanently on the brink of starvation. 250 million Africans are undernourished; school enrolment is falling; life expectancy is falling. [This appears to be wrong, now; life expectancy in Africa is, apparently, 63.]

MDGs

By some estimates the West has spend £1.2 trillion in aid to Africa. There has often been little to show. In the 2000s there was a flurry of activity with the creation of the Millennium Development Goals. In 2005 Bob Geldof created a huge media event around the Live 8 campaign and gigs. But the West has donor fatigue. Pledges made under MDGs and Live 8 weren’t carried through. African countries have promised to reform and then utterly failed to do so too many times.

China

Into the breach has stepped China, which has been signing trade deals across Africa. The Forum on China-Africa Cooperation (FOCAC). By 2010 China-Africa trade had leapt to $115 billion. A million Chinese had moved to Africa.

The Arab Spring

And then, just as Meredith was completing this book, along came the Arab Spring leading to the overthrow of ageing dictators in Tunisia, Libya, Egypt and on into the Middle East i.e. Yemen, Bahrein, Syria. And yet within a few years, Egypt was back in the hands of the military, Libya had collapsed as a state, Syria fell into a ruinous civil war; only Tunisia survived and flourished as a democracy.

Kenya

Meredith ends with the calamitous recent history of Kenya, which threw out Daniel arap Moi and his cronies (known as the Karbanet syndicate) after 23 years of looting the country. However, his successor, Mwai Kibaki, merely instituted a new kleptocracy for his tribe and supporters (who came to be known as the Mount Kenya mafia). Corruption reached scandalous new heights with some $4 billion a year, or one third of the national budget, being raked off by the corrupt elite.

When Kibaki refused to accept the results of the 2007 election i.e that he had lost to opposition leader Raila Odinga, he plunged Kenya into tribal bloodshed which left thousands dead, the economy damaged and Kenya’s reputation for stability in tatters. It had become just one more African country, ruined by its corrupt rulers’ inability to cede power.

Africa’s wounds are self-inflicted. Africans have proved ruinously incapable of running their own countries. Meredith ends his book by describing the majority of Africa’s rulers as ‘vampires’ who have converted all the instruments of the state into money-making scams, who use rabble-rousing ethnic rhetoric or state terror to remain in power, while their populations slip ever backwards into poverty, sickness and starvation.

Thoughts

Some pretty obvious themes emerge from this 700-page odyssey but in the last 5 or 6 chapters something bigger than the themes struck me, which is that this is a very negative view of Africa. Often it is very harrowing and dark indeed, as when the subject matter is bleak, as in Algeria, Congo, Rwanda, Sudan, Angola.

But it took me a while to grasp how much this is a journalist’s not a historian’s or academic’s point of view of the subject. And, like all journalists, Meredith accentuates the negative. Man buys a puppy for his kids, who love it, is not news. New puppy attacks children, that is news.

I know it’s an obvious and well-known journalistic principle, but in the last 100 pages it really struck home that Meredith focuses relentlessly on the bad news, on countries with long-running wars and political crises, the ones we read about in the newspapers: Nigeria, Sudan, Angola, Zimbabwe, settings for horrible wars, massacres, genocides even. On the basis of this book it would be tempting to write all of Africa off as an irredeemable disaster zone. But there are 50 or so countries in Africa, and not all of them are having civil wars all the time. Some of them might even be doing rather well. Many people might be living ordinary lives, doing jobs, getting married, having parties. Despite the impression Meredith gives, life expectancy across Africa is actually rising.

Anyway, that was my one Big Thought: that if you only read this book you would be left with the impression that Africa is a vast abattoir of eternal massacre and mutilation, vampire leaders and epic corruption. I don’t think Meredith intends to be biased and I’m sure everything he writes is absolutely true. But by the end of his book I began to think that it’s not necessarily the complete truth, about the entire continent, and all its countries, and all the people who live in them.


Credit

The State of Africa: A History of the Continent since Independence by Martin Meredith was published in England by the Free Press in 2005. A revised edition was published by Simon and Schuster in 2011. All references are to the 2013 paperback edition.

Related links

Stanley: The Impossible Life of Africa’s Greatest Explorer by Tim Jeal (2)

‘Niama! Niama!’ (‘Meat! Meat!’)
The excited cry of cannibals on the Congo river when they saw Stanley’s expedition approaching (p.197)

Jeal’s exemplary and hugely researched biography (winner of the Sunday Times Biography of the Year award 2007) takes 570 pages (including notes, index etc) to given an immensely detailed narrative of the life of Henry Morton Stanley, widely acknowledged to be the greatest European explorer of Africa. There’s a huge amount about his disastrous childhood, his adventures as a young man, his numerous romantic attachments ie the various engagements which collapsed because he kept on disappearing off to Africa for years , speculation about his psychological profile and needs (an orphan in search of a father who created surrogate families of younger men on his various expeditions).

What interested me more was the general light Jeal’s book shed on the Africa of the 1870s. The French owned Algeria and had footholds in Dakar and Gabon, the British owned the Cape Colony, and a handful of outposts on the Gold Coast (Lagos) and provided military and financial support to the Khedive who administered Egypt on behalf of the Ottoman sultan, while pushing south into Sudan. The Dutch Boers had asserted states in the Orange Free State and Transvaal, and Portugal claimed the coastal strips of Angola and Mozambique in the south west and east coasts, respectively. But huge areas remained unclaimed and unexplored.

Africa before colonial partition, circa 1870

Some large regions were ruled by established African rulers or tribes, such as the Ashanti in the west and the Matabele in the south. Abyssinia was ruled by a long-established Christian emperor. In the 1830s an Arab Muslim ruler had established the sultanate of Zanzibar. The region of Buganda had a king or Kabak, at this period Mutesa, who kept an impressive court and had 300 wives.

I’m not going to attempt a historical overview. I just want to record notes on the social conditions Stanley encountered.

The second Ashanti war

After the success of his Livingstone mission, in 1874 Stanley was sent by the editor of the New York Herald, Bennett, to cover the second Ashanti War. The powerful Ashanti tribe resented the encroachment of the British. When the British bought their last outlet to the sea, Elmina, off the Dutch, it triggered war.  The British government despatched General Sir Garnet Wolseley who invaded Ashanti territory, inflicted a crushing military defeat and burned down the capital, Kumasi. The treaty enforced on the king was to pay 50,000 ounces of gold reparations, keep the trade road to Kumasi open, and abandon human sacrifices. Stanley witnessed and reported on all this. He also saw the put outside the capital city where Ashanti kings ritually decapitated slaves, prisoners and enemies. Their blood was kept in a huge bowl and used in religious ceremonies. There was a pile of skulls alongside rotting bodies (p.152).

The Arab slave trade

The Sultanate of Zanzibar was the epicentre of the East African slave trade, which was entirely run by Arabs. Up to a third of the population of 200,000 was slaves, working as servants or workers on the island’s many plantations. Up to 20,000 slaves a year were brought by Arab slavers from the interior, about half being kept on the island the other half shipped north to become slaves in the Middle East. British estimates varied but the most horrifying calculated that as many as 9 in 10 of the slaves captured or bought in the interior survived the long trek, in chains, back to the coast at Bagamoyo.

The British were dedicated to trying to stamp out the East African slave trade but it could only be done with the co-operation of its managers and of the Sultan. In 1873 he was persuaded to sign a treaty abolishing the trade by Sir Bartle Frere. Jeal emphasises the importance of Stanley’s long reports on the Livingstone mission about the evils of the slave trade, which were published in London just as the Parliamentary committee was debating the trade and helped crystallised British determination to enforce the treaty on the Sultan. However, the actual condition of slavery was not abolished, the slave traders merely found new outlets on the coast, and it is possible the number of slaves captured and traded actually increased for a decade or more after this date (p.160).

For the European explorers there were two big points: almost wherever they went they saw examples of the devastation wrought by the Arab slave traders. But, much worse, all too often, the European explorers opened up entire new areas to the slave trade. Frank McLynn’s book, Hearts of Darkness: The European Exploration of Africa, contains numerous descriptions of explorers returning to regions they had first encountered as lush, fertile and densely populated areas a few years later to find they had been burned and emptied of people by Arab slavers who followed in the European explorers’ wake. Humans, eh.

The great trans-Africa journey 1874 to 1877

Stanley set off from Bagamoyo with 224 porters (known as ‘wangwana’), 3 white companions and five dogs in November 1874. Within weeks all four white men had contracted malaria and fevers of various types. In January 1875 Edward Pocock died of smallpox. Eventually all three white men would perish and all the dogs.

As the going got harder, numerous porters absconded. Stanley sent ‘detectives’ to find them and drag them back. Absconders were put in chains for a couple of days to set an example. Travelling through the territory of the Wanyatu tribe, a straggler was captured and hacked to pieces. A porter who had gone to cut wood was killed by a spear. The tribe attacked but was fought off with rifles, killing six. Next day they attacked again, were fought off but when Stanley told his men to counter-attack, they lost discipline broke into smaller groups and some were speared to death, others hunted through the forest, presumed killed.

By the time they arrived on the shore of Lake Victoria 102 days and 720 miles later, Stanley had lost 62 men, through disease, desertion or killed in fighting with locals. His train of 224 was down to 166. Stanley had brought a boat, broken down into sections so as to be portable by the wangwana, and named the Lady Alice (after his rich man’s daughter girlfriend back in America). They now assembled it and undertook the first ever circumnavigation of Lake Victoria, mapping and charting and measuring as he went. He had complex interactions with the numerous tribes living around Lake Victoria, trying to manipulate tribal enmities to his advantage, nearly being massacred by the inhabitants of Bumbireh island when he landed his boat looking for food, and only just pushing off and escaping with the lives of himself and the 11 porters who accompanied him.

The mighty warlord Mirambo was responsible for the deaths of thousands of men and skulls lined the road to his gates (p.185). It was a custom of the Nyamwezi people to strangle their mtemi (leader) when they became unfit to rule. When I read that, for a split second I wondered what the effect would be if we imported that custom into contemporary Britain.

By the time Stanley and his men reached Ujiji on Lake Tanganyika in May 1876 he weighed 118lb, having lost a third of his body weight. It took Stanley 51 days to circumnavigate and map Lake Tanganyika, discovering it was 450 miles from north to south and therefore the longest freshwater lake in the world.

As Stanley travelled with 130 porters and their camp followers, by boat and canoe along the river Lualaba, they were repeatedly attacked by cannibal tribes, the paths to whose villages were lined with human skulls.

Some of the tribes they parlayed with were very suspicious of writing, which they saw as witchcraft designed to curse the tribe. They insisted Stanley hand over his notebook so he handed over his edition of the complete Shakespeare which was ritually burned in front of the whole tribe (p.198).

None of the expedition had any idea that there were 32 separate sets of waterfalls beyond the 15 mile lake they named Stanley Pool, itself a distinctive lake-like widening of the river, 22 miles long and 14 miles wide and littered with islands large and small. It is gruelling to read of the struggle to carry canoes along the river bank or risk running the river to the next set of falls. Numerous canoes were lost with 20 or so porters and the last, most effective and loyal white man, Frank Pocock, swept over a fall and drowned.

When he had announced on 25 July that they were not far from the sea, his loyal lieutenant, Wadi Safeni, who had saved the Lady Alice on several occasions and been a vital ‘captain’ of the wangwani broke down and went mad, clasping Stanley’s legs, gibbering about an end to their suffering, before running off into the jungle and never being seen again.

In the last 50 miles to the Atlantic coast they ran almost completely out of food, the hundred or more porters were all ill, several women had given birth Stanley sent a letter by the fittest men to the small European settlement at Boma. Miraculously they returned several days later with food, and more arrived by porters. They were saved.

It is touching to read about the fuss Stanley then kicked up with Bennett and the British government to ensure that the survivors of ‘his people’, with whom he had suffered so much, were taken by British gunboat round the Cape and returned to their homes on Zanzibar, fully paid off and compensation given to the families of those who had perished. He had left Zanzibar in November 1874 with 228 people. He returned in November 1877 with 108 (p.217).

Tribes mentioned

The Bangala (cannibals), Barundu, Ganda, Haya, Kumu (cannibals), Manyema, Ngoni, Nyamwezi, Wajiwa, Wané-Mpungu, Wanyaturu, Warasura, Wasongoro, Wakonju, Wavuma, Wasambye, Wasukuma, Wenya.


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