
Review of Wonders of The African
World
Wonders of The
African World , narrated and hosted by Henry Louis Gates, was presented in
three installments on October 25, 26, and 27. When I realized that the series
would begin at exactly the time I had scheduled an audition, I frantically made
arrangements to have the segment taped so I could view it later.
However, I made
sure I was prepared for the second segment, buying quality tapes to record it on
my VCR. This segment dealt with a subject I was currently working on, the issue
of whether African Americans are owed reparation for slavery by European
Americans and whether the descendants of Africans who had been involved in the
slave trade were equally culpable.
The segment began
in Elmina, Ghana. Of some 70 slave castles that had been used to store and
export slaves from West Africa to the Americas, over half of them had been in
Ghana. And Gates was intent on exploring how West Africans viewed their
ancestors role in the capture and trade of their fellow Africans. I had taken my
family to Ghana just this past summer, and we had visited the slave castles in
Elmina and Cape Coast. We took the guided tours of the slave castles, witnessed
the holding pens for male and female slaves, heard the descriptions of their
ordeals as presented by the guides, and imagined how it must have been like in
the crowded, stone encased rooms, with no possibility of escape.
Gates'
presentation gave some sense of this, but the topic was seriously marred by his
irreverent, prepschool attitude. He feigned surprise at how honest and graphic
the guides were in describing the particulars of the slave trade, as if he had
expected them to deny their involvement or at least sugar-coat it by denying its
horrors. The camera follows him as he interviews historians and traditional
chiefs about the slave trade, and he never misses a chance for a quip and a
chuckle. What would he have been like if his ancestors had not been sold into
slavery, he muses. Maybe, his historian hostess replies, he would have been a
chief. Gates likes this answer, one that has spawned many an African American's
fantasy, and they laugh. He makes no attempt to enlighten his audience to the
conceptual paradox inherent in this fantasy: if there had been no trans-Atlantic
slave trade, there would have been no African descendants of American slavery,
and no Henry Louis Gates. One wonders if Gates is even aware of the problem in
dealing with such historical counterfactuals. If he is aware, he shows no
indication of such, and gives his audience no idea of how to deal with them
except in the usual self-serving manner.
He travels from
Elmina to Kumasi, and from Kumasi to Benin, as he outlines the extent of the
slave trade. In Benin, he interviews African descendants of ... de Souza, a
European who acted as a middleman between the Dahomian king and the European
slavers. As with the traditional Ashanti chief in Kumasi, the remorse of the
lady who is his guide in Benin is genuine. On the other hand, one of the more
enlightening moments comes with the candid acknowledgement that the Ashanti and
Dahomey kingdoms were built by conquerors, and conquest is always a bloody
business. Were the African conquerors any more brutal than Ghengis Khan,
Alexander the Great, Charlemagne, or Julius Caesar? The suffering caused to the
Africans enslaved was tragic. Equally tragic is the suffering experienced
subsequently by the Africans who enabled the slave trade. Even more tragic is
the irreverent attitude of the descendant of this era who returns and is so
secretly pleased that his ancestors did not remain in Africa.
Gates pursues his
exploration of the wonders of Africa to Ethiopia, home of Coptic christianity
and reputed sanctuary of the fabled Lost Arc of the Covenant. The cinematography
is beautiful as we follow him from Addis Abbaba to Gomar to Exum to Lalibedda.
The mountaintop monasteries and mummified remains of ancient kings presents a
vivid picture of a proud people with a glorious past. Unfortunately, it is again
marred by Gates mouth. His quips, asides, and chutzpa show again and again that
he has no stake in or respect for the beliefs of the people he is exploring. I
am shocked when he asks a Coptic priest if he might be allowed to verify the
authenticity of the arc the priest claims to be in his church, and on another
occasion, muses on what might happen if he climbed a fence to enter a sacred
cathedral closed to the public. One wonders whether Gates is aware of the
spoiled brat image he projects, or whether he really believes that being a
Harvard professor gives him the right to explore the beliefs and relics of his
hosts with little regard for the effect of his inquiries on their sensibilities.
In an episode in
the last installment, Gates has returned to West Africa, and has followed the
Niger river down to the fabled city of Timbuctu. He walks through the dusty
streets like the rich tourist he is, with a turbaned white english guide who has
clearly taken great pains not to present Gates' image of an enlightened voyeur.
At one point, Gates' has his guide ask the local Imman for permission to enter
the mosque to film. The Imman replies that this would be allowed only if Gates
converts to Islam. Gates asks in response whether, if he converts, he would be
allowed to have four wives. The Imman is dumbfounded when Gates response is
translated back to him. Gates, however, thinks it is all quite funny.
In the last part
of this segment, Gates introduces us to the Dogon people and is taken to a site
where young men were circumcised as part of their initiation into manhood. "Is
this blood?" he asks his informant, as he points to a stained rock. "Yes"
replies the guide. I cringe: Is Gates' going to ask to see where the women were
circumcised? Will he take us there and show us the remains of their blood as
well? Fortunately he does not. Perhaps the immodium he so candidly warns is a
necessity for the tourist in Africa has finally quieted the spasms of his mouth.
In his book,
The Signifying Monkey Gates introduces readers to the Yoruba deity Esu,
who mediates between the gods and mere mortals. Esu is presented as the African
equivalent of Hermes, and reminds us of the necessity of interpreting the
information and messages we are presented with in life. Esu is a mischievous
Orisha, and unless acknowledged and appeased will typically lead us astray. In
one of the statues of Esu collected by Gates, the deity is shown holding his
oversized penis, representing his proclivity for copulation, for joining
opposites, and creating new meaning. In his Wonders of the African World
Gates' wears his Harvard credentials much as he portrays Esu holding his penis.
He leaves no doubt in the viewers mind that the power and resources that make
his journey among the people of Africa possible derive from his connection with
Harvard, and that he is an emissary, merely visiting, mediating between the Gods
of the modern world and the natives he interviews. We would all be outraged had
we been given a production of this sort by a white Harvard professor. The fact
that Gates is the descendant of African slaves should give him no more license
to flaunt his privileged position. I've still not seen the first segment of
Wonders of the African World but I hope it is better than the segments I
did see. Unfortunately I have lost my interest in obtaining
it.
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