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ACAS Bulletin
No. 46
Winter 1996
The Question of Representation in the Study of Africa
a Roundtable held at the 38th Annual Meeting of the African Studies Association, November 4, 1995
by
Michael West
The Current Issues Council of the ASA decided to sponsor a roundtable on the question of race and African Studies soon after the appearance of Philip Curtin's piece in the Chronicle. Our intention was to provide a forum for an exchange of views from the widest possible variety of perspectives. Having secured a commitment from Curtin to participate, which we thought was crucial, we then turned our attention to rounding out the panel. This proved to be far more difficult than anticipated. A number of individuals contacted, white and black, politely but firmly declined our invitation, several of them after having initially accepted, others after "careful" or "serious" consideration. All, however, would be present, "in the audience."
A second obstacle in organizing the roundtable was the one-appearance rule, which prohibits multiple presentations at ASA meetings. Several prospective participants had previous commitments which they felt bound to honor. An appeal to the panels chair to waive the one-appearance rule, given the importance of the subject, seemed to offer a way out of this dilemma. But the proffered quid pro quo--inclusion on the roundtable of an individual designated by the panels chair, someone whom he said had been interested in arranging a similar forum--was unacceptable. After yet another round of reshuffling, we ended up with a panel consisting of David Johnson, Micere Githae Mugo and Edward Alpers (who was coopted at the last moment, after having been initially eliminated by the one-appearance rule). Curtin, who had specified that role for himself in agreeing to be on the roundtable, would be the respondent, with the present writer in the chair.*
It seemed clear early in the process of organizing the roundtable that it was shaping up as a transcendent event, an important moment in the history of the ASA, if not the U. S. Africanist enterprise as a whole. Black scholars of Africa were uniformly and deeply offended by Curtin's article. This reality was forcefully impressed upon the writer who, in the course of helping to put together the collective response that appeared in the Chronicle on April 7th, had personally spoken to dozens of them. There was talk of a fork in the road, of a gauntlet having been thrown down, even of a moral crisis at the center of African Studies. The blatant attack on the integrity and dignity of black scholars, the reasoning went, was not just the work of one person. As the black historians asserted in their letter to the Chronicle, Curtin's "repeated citation of unnamed colleagues and reference to 'most of us' and 'many of us' suggest that the editorial is not merely a personal statement, but rather the conclusions of a distinct group of Africanist scholars. We can only assume from the internal evidence that this group must be composed entirely of white scholars of Africa." Some eight months later, as we assembled in Orlando for the ASA annual meeting, feelings were still running high.
Then on Saturday, November 4th, as the clock approached 5PM, we all began to file into the huge room reserved for the roundtable. As the seats filled up, more chairs were brought in. But these too were quickly occupied and stragglers began crowding around the back of the room. One head counter put the number of those seated at 800. It was going on 5:30 when we finally started.
After a brief introduction by the chair, David Johnson spoke, delivering the stinging rebuttal to Curtin included in this collection. He was followed by Micere Mugo, whose electribying presentation (also included in this collection) revealed for all to see the fault line in the audience. Her thorough deconstruction of Curtin's article was received enthusiastically and effusively. The joy, however, was not equally shared: those standing, clapping and hugging were overwhelmingly black. The majority of whites in the audience remained in their seats or responded tepidly, if at all. (From the vantage point of the podium, the audience appeared about evenly divided between black and white, with perhaps a slight black majority.)
It was then Edward Alpers's turn at the podium. He approached the microphone gingerly and pronounced: "How would you like to follow that!" The task, admittedly, was difficult; but Alpers, ever irrepressible, eventually warmed to his subject, affirmative action. While critics of affirmative complained of reverse discrimination, he had "not noticed any shortage of white males" in academic positions, whether in African Studies or elsewhere. The academy has always had meritorious people, he offered, but much of the current talk about meritocracy is a "good example of Benedict Anderson's imagined community: it never existed."
Curtin's response was very brief. He denied opposing affirmative action. On the contrary, he favors more affirmative action, not just in African Studies but in other fields of academic endeavor as well. His article, he continued, was entirely silent on the question of the ability of different peoples. The range of abilities possessed by scholars of Africa is about equal, regardless of race or national origin. That was not a point worth making. In any case, he did not say that people of African descent are less good than others. The ASA Board accused him of appealing to racial sentiment, "but I couldn't find that in my article."
Curtin then turned to the question of "where I'm coming from and why I'm doing this." He was, he reiterated, one of those on the fringe of the civil rights movement. He did not go to Selma, but he was busy registering black voters in Chester, Pennsylvania in 1948, "before many of you people were born." In the event, his efforts did not bear fruit, at least not immediately, for "we lost the election anyway." Continuing, Curtin explained that he was an "integrationist in American society," meaning that he supports the "integration of all races with each other, as much as possible." Integration, however, was not happening in the university. At his own institution, The Johns Hopkins University, there are eight black faculty members, only two of whom teach non-black subjects. There are no blacks in the sciences, not because there are no good blacks available, but because university administrators do not see the importance of recruiting them. His article sought to call attention to this imbalance. It was addressed to university administrators, not Africanists. Hence the choice of location.
The discussion was then thrown open. What followed was noteworthy in several respects, not the least of which was Curtin's refusal, to their utter dismay, to engage his many critics and would-be interlocutors. There were perhaps only two meaningful exceptions to this; and both of these, significantly, dealt largely with personal issues as opposed to the larger theme of racial representation in African Studies.
Curtin responded at some length to accusations made by Trevor Hall, who identified himself as a 1992 Johns Hopkins PhD and a Jamaican. Hall's point was that Curtin had attempted to ruin his academic career. He blamed Curtin for his inability to obtain internal funding while at Hopkins, even though he won external fellowships. Hall further claimed that in 1991 Curtin telephoned the chair of his department at Arizona State University, where he was teaching while completing his dissertation, to say that he would never receive his degree and that he was "a fraud." Angry, shaking, and pointing his finger from the back of the room, he called Curtin "a racist."
Curtin rejected the charge of racism and disputed the veracity of Hall's account. He said the call to Arizona was made not by him, but by his chair, who wanted to protest the fact that Hall had been listed in the American Historical Association directory, inaccurately, as having a PhD from Johns Hopkins. At the time the call was made, Hall was not a registered student, and since his major advisor was not present on campus, "the true state of his progress may not have been known." Curtin himself had rejected Hall as a student when he applied to graduate school, because he did not think he was qualified. Hall, however, had been admitted by another professor, since decisions about admission to Hopkins are made by individual faculty members. Hall had not taken any courses with Curtin during his sojourn at Hopkins. (Presently, the chair intervened to request that the use of "personal invectives" be avoided.)
Curtin also offered a substantive response to queries by Boubacar Barry. Barry noted that in 1972 Curtin had reviewed his book, Royaume du Waalo, and had said good things about it. However, he was hurt by Curtin's comment that "the history written by Barry is not recognized." He was not sure what that meant. Barry also noted that in 1995 he applied for a position at Duke University, after which Curtin wrote the article in the Chronicle, mentioning the Duke job prominently. He wanted to know if there was any connection between the two events. While he respected Curtin's scholarly contribution, it was of no concern to him whether or not he is a racist. Responding, Curtin apologized to Barry for using words that were not clear, and explained that he meant that Barry was more under the influence of French Africanist thought than he himself. As stated in the review, he liked the book and still thought it was important. He denied having anything to do with the Duke job.
His replies to the personal concerns raised by Hall and Barry constituted Curtin's most significant comments during the interchange. It was mostly in vain that others attempted to engage him on the issues raised in his article and their implications. However, it was not just Curtin who appeared tongue-tied. The leadership of the ASA (past and present) and the senior Africanist establishment, though out in force, also generally responded with a deafening silence. The majority of those who spoke from the floor were younger and lesser known black scholars. Most of the white speakers fit this description as well.
Among the first speakers was Femi Taiwo, who rejected Curtin's claim that he had been misinterpreted. He asserted that Curtin should either concede all the points made by the members of the roundtable and others, in which case he should "fess up," or he should be bold enough to stand by what he said in the article. There was no other way to understand the article outside the linking of the entrance of more black scholars into African Studies with a lowering of standards in the field, Taiwo continued. He then issued a challenge: If anyone in the audience knew of a case in the last five years in which an African historian trained on the continent had been hired over a better qualified white candidate, he or she should speak up. There was no such case, because black scholars of Africa are often "three times as qualified" as their white counterparts. They should therefore "stop apologizing for affirmative action. It is an indictment of your selection system that you have to bring us in on special dispensation," he concluded to loud applause.
Other speakers pursued the lines of inquiry opened up by Taiwo. Jacqueline Vieceli rose to declare that she was mourning and in shock. Speaking "for the moment as a scholar who happens to be white," she addressed Curtin directly: "If you are saying that standards are being lowered because Africans and African-Americans are entering in larger numbers into the study of African history, I am personally dishonored by that." She demanded to know where Curtin would be but "for the permission and probably the active graciousness of Africans during the time that you researched." In speaking out, she may have committed "career suicide," but taking a principled stand was worth that price. She ended on a note of high drama: "Please, sir, in the name of God, what are you doing?"
The next speaker, Ayesha Imam, concurred in the view that there was a contradiction between what Curtin said in the article and "what he's saying now." Previously, he was concerned mainly with what he described as a process by which black applicants were favored over better qualified whites for academic jobs, whereas now he was posing as a champion of greater black inclusion in the academy. Then came Onaiwu Ogbomo, who also wondered aloud about the price a young scholar might have to pay for daring to stand up to the Curtins of African Studies. He urged Curtin "to apologize for what you have done." Another speaker, a black woman unknown to the writer, agreed. While that may not have been the intent, she asserted, Curtin's article had "hurt a lot of people. It's honorable for you just to apologize."
By this point the anger was palpable. And yet the last speaker had made a constructive, sensible and entirely reasonable suggestion which, if followed, likely would have broken the tension. She effectively offered Curtin a chance to make what amounted to a cost-free rhetorical gesture, one that might well have allowed him to disarm his detractors. You need not retract or repudiate what you have written, was her message, just acknowledge the pain we feel as a result of it and say you are sorry, not for the content of the article but for the severity of our pain. Curtin, however, conceded nothing. "I'm sorry; I stick by what I said," he retorted dryly.
Curtin again declined to make a token restitution when Ali Mazrui, one of three speakers explicitly to defend him, provided an even better opportunity. Likening the roundtable to a judicial process, Mazrui implied that the prosecution had gone on a fishing expedition, and that the indictment was too broad. "We want to be clear about exactly what and who is on trial," he cautioned. Speaking as a prosecutor himself, he insisted that it was necessary to distinguish between, on the one hand, charging Curtin for "one journalistic article to which we object" and, on the other hand, putting his scholarship and character on trial. The one, he intimated, was a legitimate exercise, the other more akin to an inquisition. Mazrui then switched roles, assuming now the dual position of character witness and defense counsel. He had known Curtin for over thirty years, he announced, his voice rising. They had had many scholarly debates; they had even debated race; and he did not believe Curtin was a racist. He should certainly not be put in the same category as the reactionary forces abroad in the land, such as those who currently control Congress. The flourishing conclusion was quintessential Mazruiana, couched in the language of legalese: "We should be absolutely categorical that it is not his [Curtin's] character that is on trial; that it is not the whole corpus of his scholarship that is on trial; it is only one lousy, mistaken journalistic article which he should not have written, and it is that, and that alone, which is culpable."
Yet, even after this sharp rebuke of those who would try him unjustly, Curtin still refused to engage or make any amends. Instead, it was left to Robert Collins, who it is fair to say was the least coherent speaker that evening, to respond on his behalf. Collins asserted that Curtin is an outstanding scholar, well respected at the University of California. Meandering, he expressed the view that merit should be the sole factor in making academic appointments, and that the best person should be hired, irrespective of race or gender. He said a system of meritocracy was in place at the University of California, a claim greeted with jeers from the audience. Collins was followed by Merrick Posnansky, who wanted to address a point made by Curtin towards the end of his article. Noting an exodus of faculty members from African universities and a consequent drop in academic standards, he urged US-based scholars of Africa to consider going to teach in an African university.
Subsequent speakers returned to the issue of race and African Studies, some of them implicitly taking Mazrui to task in the process. Salilah Booker rose to address the notion of ghettoization, but not before chiding the chair for referring to him as "doctor." He was not, he declared proudly, "a doctor," in fact, he was not an academic at all. Academics were the problem. Concerning the term ghettoization, Booker stated that it was not coined by Curtin. He first came across it some years ago while doing a study on public education. Civil servants in the Africa Division of the State Department are concerned about ghettoization, now that their boss is a black Assistant Secretary of State. The concern is shared by their counterparts at AID, since the head of that agency's Africa bureau is also black. "There is a quiet riot going on among whites who work in Africa related fields," he concluded. The issue is not a lowering of standards but diversity, which threatens white control.
White denial was the subject of the next speaker, a white graduate student at the University of Florida. She wondered if white Africanists had ever bothered to ask themselves why it is that so few African-American students were entering African Studies programs. She suspected it had a lot to do with racism, which should be rooted out, not covered over or denied.
Carolyn Brown then took to the floor, saying she found Curtin's article "offensive" because, in failing to mention white women, it "racializes affirmative action." Responding to Mazrui without naming him, she denied that anyone was saying the article "is the same as Newt Gingrich." Black academics, she continued, "catch hell from everybody, and when you are black and a woman it is worse." Returning to a point made by previous speakers, she urged white scholars to abandon their denial and insensitivity. "I think one of the things our white colleagues need to do is to listen, because if we say you are standing on our foot, please don't say you are not there."
The next speaker, an unidentified black woman, asserted that Curtin was merely "a product of the white supremacist system." This view was strongly supported by Gloria Waite, who gave it as her opinion that those asking Curtin to apologize had "missed the point. Will you please go back and read Curtin's work." In The Image of Africa and Africa and the West, she argued, Curtin outlines the genesis and evolution of racism and white supremacy. His article was "a mirror image of the rationalization" that Europeans historically have used to devalue Africans and "boost their own sense of superiority." Also responding to Mazrui indirectly, she added that the question of Curtin's own racial attitudes was not relevant. "What he has written in the Chronicle is classic racism."
James Webb, identifying himself as a 1983 Johns Hopkins PhD, countered with a vigorous defense of Curtin. Curtin, he stated, had greatly advanced the study of African history, blazing trails, for instance in the study of the Atlantic slave trade, now followed by other scholars, white and black. Adu Boahen's African Perspectives on Colonialism, one of the most useful books he has found for his students, is the outgrowth of a symposium at Johns Hopkins. Boahen's visit to Hopkins had been sponsored by Curtin, "who oversaw the publication of that book." Turning to what he described as the larger context for understanding the evening's proceedings, Webb argued that the roundtable, like the O. J. Simpson trial, had revealed a gulf in perspectives between black and white in the United States. (On the introduction of the Simpson case some in the audience interrupted with a chorus of "no, no," but they relented when the chair requested that the speaker be allowed to continue.) There was no point in trying to "vilify" Curtin, Webb went on. "We need to understand him." He had opened up issues for discussion in ways that they had not been opened before.
Keletso Atkins had the last word. She noted that while everyone seemed to be focused on the "brain drain" from other parts of the continent, little was being said about the "influx" of white South Africans into the American academy and the fact that they are often given jobs over black Americans.
Given the intensity and energy of the audience, which showed few signs of abating even as the last speaker rose, the discussion could have continued well into the evening. But the inaugural meeting of the Pan-African Caucus, itself an outcome of the ferment and mobilization resulting from Curtin's intervention, had already begun. The roundtable had been a remarkable event, but it would have to end. The evening's proceedings would supply grist for many a conversation over the next two days of the meeting and beyond. The issue of race, racial representation and racism in African Studies had been squarely and prominently placed on the agenda. The future of the field will depend in large measure on how it is resolved.
*All four roundtable participants were invited to submit their presentations for inclusion in this collection. All but Curtin agreed.
© ACAS, November, 1997