Praise Poetry // an African on how we relate to authority

oneazania (56)in #politics • 6 years ago (edited)

Should poets praise or raise criticisms on what they observe?

I believe that all people should be allowed to do and say whatever they choose to, without fear of reprisal. It is only in such a climate we can say we are moving toward embracing one another with respect, in an egalitarian community. If we place our money where our mouths are, our communities ought genuinely to be places where there are near-zero limitations on what is allowed and no prescriptions at all on what ought to be said. Present limitations such as criminal actions that directly harm others (physically) or incitements to bring physical harm on others are limitations that have to be judged not by public opinion but by courts of law. Nebulous concepts such as the notion that respect ought to be shown to those in authority by the way we speak about them is a short skip and jump away from having laws that prescribe how we speak to all other people.

What about hate speech, the c- and the k-words?

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Hate speech, sexism and racism have been so watered down that they now include any and sundry statements and actions. This has done nothing to advance an open and healthy society. Quite the opposite has actually happened: we have now ever-increasingly the kind of community members that regurgitate official scripts in order to be seen as acceptable and relevant. Notwithstanding the fact that what we say fails to alter the realties, as long as we display loyalty to the words, we are all right in the eyes of the people. Failure to recite the words leads to us being summarily doomed to obscurity at best, or hounded into prison at worst.

So what happens to poets who do not praise the powers that exist? Chiefs saw to it they had compliant soothsayers, wise doctors and poets around them to represent their authority to the rest of the tribe. Non-compliance led to banishment. We have carried this idea of patronage into our modern systems, and it is not fortunate that we have done this. The idea that if someone holds certain opinions, he or she is more worthy of privilege is a breeding ground for the sort of patronage that can only be described as corruption.

Why would we bring with us an idea that extends from feudalism into a modern democracy? Why would we render such services as a praise poet to an elected leader? Did we not set ourselves up for failure? Observe the way we also hastily adopted the notions from our former masters that we place a mace in the centre of our debates in parliament. In other nations, they still wear wigs in courts, I am told. What sort of authority is it we wanted to generate going forward? Did we seriously stop to think about it? Or did we accept that the finer details were all ironed out by wiser minds for us?

Do these symbols and with them their notions of authority have any place in our modern society? Did they not bring with them the the diseases of an uncritical acceptance of authority? If we are honest, we will find that the notion of loyalty is all-but synonymous with being uncritical. Loyalty means to embrace the symbols and accept the authority and to dutifully praise the leader. Do we not hear the term, disciplined member of the organisation a lot these days?

Having these baggage guests along with us, unpacked like roaches we brought with us from our tour abroad, is in my opinion one of the worst ideas we ever had. That we embraced so many of these notions without questioning them first, is the most worrisome aspect of it all.

We brought many unpacked symbols, most of them relating to authority and power: race included. The symbol of a rainbow for instance, out of some idea of expediency, reconciliation, we also formulated national symbols like our flag and anthem by simply blending together the obscene with that which the people have held dear. We never unpacked and sought justice, hence we are l left itching because of the bites left n our skins by these unwanted travelers.

We have many poets, artists, intellectuals, political analysts today. Is it mere coincidence they are strikingly similar to praise poets? Whenever people do step out of line, how readily are they labeled, tarred, feathered and dismissed? How easily we deploy the same mechanisms that our oppressors brought to bare on those who opposed oppression. We know the labels: racist, white monopoly capitalist, counter revolutionary, patriarch, etc. And what evidence should the accusers bring to back their allegations up? I have the answer for you: None!

I declare I am not a praise poet.

Here is an interview with Nelson Mandela's praise poet, Zolani Mkiva. I am struck by the celebration of tribalism in what he says here. How little he says about the relevance of praise poets for Africans. When he speaks about being an African, he seemingly singles out those who can call a clan name - I contest this as an extremely outdated and quite racialist notion of what being African is all about. It is actually the notion fostered by Apartheid and colonialism because it was a very effective means to divide people. I myself hail from the very hills where Mandela was born, but something suggest that myself and the host in this interview is not included in the poet's definition of being an African.

Judge for yourself.

I often joke about the fact that in order for some of us to become African's we need to fly to the moon like Mark Shuttleworth. Actually, all it takes is a short flight or ride across the border. In South Africa, the term African is now embraced as a racial category as it was done during Apartheid. The politically correct terminology is no longer racial category but national group - this was as I recall, one of the final attempts by the Apartheid regime to get away from the bad flavor or race, but it divided us in no less of a manner into different nationalities. I submit for the record, I was born and will die as an African. I may more likely be seen as one by others once I fly outside the border of my own country. I am furthermore a proud black African man. Being black is a state of mind. I am African because I was born on the continent and I love the continent and identify with the struggles of it's people. I joke often, but it is a very, very serious matter. I invite you to consider these things too.