世界中的非洲片段:南非與肯亞

tm 說,我們應該要多聽 BBC 的廣播。:)

今天撰寫田野理論與實作課的期末報告。腦中想著:我該怎麼把書本中的對話,與現實生活中的世界連接起來呢?例如 Jean Comaroff 書中 Tshidi 人們儀式(signifying process)中的南非,與我自己 2005 年所造訪的南非(我今天在整理照片,同時想邀請我們的導遊到台灣來玩)。Heather Ford 的南非(不過她最近在 San Francisco),以及歷史中 Soweto 的南非。

幫助我造訪古巴並與當地連結的 oso 提到肯亞最近大選過後的戰火令人難過。尤其是幾個月前他才正與當地的部落客暢談新媒體對社區帶來的種種可能(他美麗的相簿)。repacted.org 有深入的文章 The Devil On The Cross 解析當地的狀況。如果你想知道最新的消息,請隨時 check 這個手機簡訊的網站 Ushahidi.com 瞭解最新的情勢。Oso 也說明了他的朋友 Juliana Rotich 現在正在從事的救援工作,以及可以捐款幫助當地人們的方法。

最近一篇 GVO Kenyan Bloggers back to “almost” normal life 讓人感覺到一切正慢慢回歸正常。天佑世界。

曼德拉的法庭演講

長腳蒼蠅貼來曼德拉 1964 年法院審判時的演講稿〈我準備好赴死了〉("I am Prepared to Die"),是一篇在面對國家機器的暴力時,反對者所選擇相對應的暴力之途的自我反省與辯證之陳述。ANC「非洲國家議會」的非暴力路線,與「民族之矛」 (UMKONTO WE SIZWE)軍事組織的誕生,其背後的考量。…

We who had taken this decision started to consult leaders of various organizations, including the ANC. I will not say whom we spoke to, or what they said, but I wish to deal with the role of the African National Congress in this phase of the struggle, and with the policy and objectives of Umkhonto we Sizwe.

As far as the ANC was concerned, it formed a clear view which can be summarized as follows:

  • It was a mass political organization with a political function to fulfil. Its members had joined on the express policy of non-violence.
  • Because of all this, it could not and would not undertake violence. This must be stressed. One cannot turn such a body into the small, closely knit organization required for sabotage. Nor would this be politically correct, because it would result in members ceasing to carry out this essential activity: political propaganda and organization. Nor was it permissible to change the whole nature of the organization.
  • On the other hand, in view of this situation I have described, the ANC was prepared to depart from its fifty-year-old policy of non-violence to this extent that it would no longer disapprove of properly controlled violence. Hence members who undertook such activity would not be subject to disciplinary action by the ANC.

    I say ‘properly controlled violence’ because I made it clear that if I formed the organization I would at all times subject it to the political guidance of the ANC and would not undertake any different form of activity from that contemplated without the consent of the ANC. And I shall now tell the Court how that form of violence came to be determined.

    As a result of this decision, Umkhonto was formed in November 1961. When we took this decision, and subsequently formulated our plans, the ANC heritage of non-violence and racial harmony was very much with us. We felt that the country was drifting towards a civil war in which Blacks and Whites would fight each other. We viewed the situation with alarm. Civil war could mean the destruction of what the ANC stood for; with civil war, racial peace would be more difficult than ever to achieve. We already have examples in South African history of the results of war. It has taken more than fifty years for the scars of the South African War to disappear. How much longer would it take to eradicate the scars of inter-racial civil war, which could not be fought without a great loss of life on both sides?

  • 這是一篇非常長的文章,裡面的思考歷程、歷史背景與未來的考量,讓這些中間不得不做出的決定顯露出政治領袖的沈重負擔。我邊閱讀,邊跟我所見到的南非社會在作對話…

    the ungrateful, ignorant man 那個不懂得感恩的粗魯傢伙

    In “Long Walk To Freedom“, a 16-year-old young Xhosa boy who had just finished the important rite of passage of circumcision, listen to a talk from an old man who he thought him ignorant and ungrateful, didn’t appreciate the civilization and progress that white man had brought into his tribe and his society.

    The description starts at the boy’s proud feeling of the day he turned into manhood:

    “At the end of our seclusion, the lodges and all their contents were burned, destroying our last links to childhood, and a great ceremony was held to welcome us as men to society. Our families, friends and local chiefs gathered for speeches, songs and gift-giving. I was given two heifers and four sheep, and felt far richer than I ever had before. I, who had never owned anything, suddenly possessed property. It was a heady feeling even though my gifts were paltry next to those of Justice, who inherited an entire herd. I was not jealous of Justice’s gifts. He was the son of a king; I was merely destined to be a counsellor to a king. I felt strong and proud that day. I remember walking differently on that day, straighter, taller, firmer. I was hopeful, and thinking that I might some day have wealth, property and status.

    The main speaker of the day was Chief Meligqili, the son of Dalindyebo, and after listening to him, my gaily coloured dreams suddenly darkened. He began conventionally, remarking how fine it was that we were continuing a tradition that had been going on for as long as anyone could remember. Then he turned to us and his tone suddenly changed. ‘There sit our sons,’ he siad, ‘young, healthy and handsome, the flower of the Xhosa tribe, the pride of our nation. We have just circumcised them in a ritual that promise them manhood, but I am here to tell you that it is an empty, illusory promise, a promise that can never be fulfilled. For we Xhosas, and all black South Africans, are a conquered people. We are slaves in our own country. We are tenants on our own soil. We have no strength, no power, no control over our own destiny in the land of our birth. They will go to cities where they will live in shacks and drink cheap alcohol, all because we have no land to give them where they could prosper and multiply. They will cough their lungs our deep in the bowels of the white man’s mines. destroying their health, never seeing the sun, so that the white man can live a life of unequalled prosperity. Among these young men are chiefs who will never rule because we have no power to govern ourselves; soldiers who will never fight for we have no weapons to fight with; scholars who will never teach because we have no place for them to study. The abilitie, the intelligence, the promise of these young men will be squandered in their attempt to eke out a living doing the simplest, most mindless chores for the white man. These gifts today are naught, for we cannot give them the greatest gift of all, which is freedom and independence. I well know that Qamata [God] is all-seeing and never sleeps, but I have a suspicion that Qamata may in fact be dozing. If this is the case, the sooner I die the better, because then I can meet him and shake him awake and tell him that the children of Ngubengcuka, the flower of the Xhosa nation, are dying.

    The audience had become more and more quiet as Chief Meligqili spoke and, I think, more and more angry. No one wanted to hear the words that he spoke that day. I know that I myself did not want to hear them. I was cross rather than aroused by the chief’s remarks, dismissing his words as as the abusive comments of an ignorant man who was unable to appreciate the value of the education and benefits that the white man had brought to our country. At the time, I looked on the white man not as an oppresor but as a benefactor, and I thought the chief was enormously ungrateful. This upstart chief was ruining my day, spoiling the proud feeling with wrong-headed remarks.

    But without exactly understanding why, his words soon began to work on me. He had sown a seed, and though I let that seed lie dormant for a long season, it eventually began to grow. Later I realized that the ignorant man that day was not the chief but myself.

    I only quoted these paragraphs to tell the story of change in this boy’s mind. I believe this paragraph should be put into young boys reader when they want to know what is grownup. In some paragraphs before these, Rolihlahla, the Xhosa boy, is experiencing fear, bravery and suffering in silence. Crying out ‘Ndiyindoda!" (‘I am a man!’) in crowd after the magician circumcised every boy, the young tribal to-be-counsellor is not easy to feel proud, manhood, and — culture. But the darken tone of the honorable guest speaker took away the glory glamour “in the same day". After the physical wound, the chief cut these beautiful boys’ mind and left them a deep, colonial psychological wound.

    “He had sown a seed," the boy said. In these paragraphs it shows a double awareness toward the ritual itself and the predicament of his people, and let him measure the length and distance toward the most important gifts of all: “freedom and independence". I am serious to write it down here, for the minorities in Taiwan and Taiwanese people in the world, cause we haven’t yet heard the truth from our Chiefs’ mouth about our own empty, illusory promises. And there’s no one had such seed in our garden, our own multiple colonized whatever colored garden. We must do it ourselves. For our own ritual and awakening, our own circumcision and darken talk, our double wounds and the honorable Chief.

    And this boy’s name is, Nelson Mandela. The Nobel Peace Prize 1993 winner and the ex-presidence of South Africa.