Revue Safara numéro 11 - janvier 2012

SAFARA

REVUE INTERNATIONALE DE
LANGUES, LITTÉRATURES ET CULTURES

N°11 janvier 2012
ISSN 0851-4119
UFR de Lettres & Sciences Humaines,
Université Gaston Berger de Saint-Louis, BP 234, Sénégal

SAFARA
REVUE INTERNATIONALE DE
LANGUES, LITTÉRATURES ET CULTURES
UFR de Lettres et Sciences Humaines, Université Gaston Berger,
BP 234 Saint Louis, Sénégal
Tel +221 33 961 23 56 Fax +221 .. 961 1884
E-Mail : safara@ugb.sn
Directeur de Publication : Omar SOUGOU
Université Gaston Berger
COMITÉ SCIENTIFIQUE
Omofolabo
Flora
Chima
Mwamba
Mamadou
Ernest
Graham
Simon
Mamadou

A-SOYINKA (Kansas, USA)
ALEXANDER (Royaume-Uni)
ANYADIKE (Nigeria)
CABAKULU (Sénégal)
CAMARA (Sénégal)
EMENYONU (N. Carol., USA)
FURNESS (Royaume-Uni)
GIKANDI (Princeton, USA)
KANDJI (Sénégal)

Baydallaye
Edris
Maweja
Mustapha
Molara
Fiona
Ndiawar
Harold
Marième

KANE (Sénégal)
MAKWARD (Wisc., USA)
MBAYA (Sénégal)
MUHAMMAD (Nigeria)
OGUNDIPE (Ghana)
MCLAUGHLIN (Kans., USA)
SARR (Sénégal)
SCHUEB (Wisc., USA)
SY (Sénégal)

COMITE DE RÉDACTION
Rédacteur en Chef Badara SALL, UGB
Co-Rédacteur en Chef Obododimma OHA, Ibadan, Nigeria
Secrétaire de Rédactions Babacar DIENG, UGB
Mamadou Ba, UGB
Assistante de rédaction Khadidiatou Diallo, UGB
Administrateur et trésorier Abdoulaye BARRY
Relations extérieures Baydallaye KANE

Membres

Oumar FALL, UGB Olusegun ADEKOYA, Nigeria
Fallou NGOM, Washington Lawan SHUAIB, Nigeria

© Université Gaston Berger de Saint Louis, 2011
ISSN 0851-4119

SOMMAIRE
Revisiting African Education For African Development
Through Indigenous African Languages ………………..….
5
Pierre GOMEZ
Francophonie in Africa South of Sahara: Specificity, Challenges
and Perspectives …………………………………………
Chaibou Elhadji OUMAROU

17

Transtextuality in South African Fiction: The Novels of Alex
La Guma and André Brink ……………………………
37
Khadidiatou DIALLO
“Cane is Bitter”: The “Epigraph” of Caribbean History …..…
Julia UDOFIA

69

.Il pleut des oiseaux de Jocelyn Saucier : Les replis d’un texte ….
Boubacar CAMARA

83

Meurtre sacré et mort profane. Enjeux des tableaux
narrativisés dans A Rebours de Joris-Karl Huysmans ………
101
Issa NDIAYE
Lenrie Peters: The eagle-eyed socio-political Observer ……..
Pierre GOMEZ

121

Safara, UFR de Lettres & Sciences Humaines, Université
Gaston Berger de Saint-Louis, Sénégal, n°11, janvier 2012

Revisiting African Education for African Development
through Indigenous African Languages

Pierre Gomez*
Moving into the 21st century, and the world becoming more
globalised than never before, the African has a responsibility to
create a developmental paradigm to pave the way for socioeconomic progress. In this process, Africans must begin to decide
and design a development strategy that is African, one which is
based on African education through African languages and one
which is responsive to the needs of the African as the Africans
response to globalization. How can this be achieved? There is an
urgent need for us to re-conceptualize our education, re-connect to
our culture and languages and most critically design an indigenous
educational paradigm that is linked to African languages and
realities. This debate has captured the interest of many high-profile
scholars such as Wali (1963), Ngugi (1986), Mafeje (1994), Menang
(2001) among others. The theme of language in African educational
systems continues to be a contentious issue in post-Independence
African countries. The importance of using the child’s mothertongue as the medium of instruction at school was underscored by
UNESCO (UNESCO: 1953). Moreover, this organization continues
to uphold the view that the choice of an instructional language and
policies concerning language in schools are critical for any
meaningful teaching and learning to take place (UNESCO: 2005).
The Association for the Development of Education in Africa
(ADEA) also clearly maintains that language is an important
determinant for quality education (ADEA: 2004).
*

Senior Lecturer Ag. Dean, School of Arts and Sciences, the University
of The Gambia.

6

P. Gomez: African Languages for Education& Development

It is also necessary to take note of the above especially when
one considers the fact that in most African educational systems, the
medium continues to be the language of the colonial masters.
Children continue to start school using a foreign language
(UNESCO Institute for Lifelong Learning, 2010). Thus the need to
integrate indigenous African languages in African schools as
mediums of communication cannot be overemphasized. This is
necessary in order to make the education that African children
continue to receive more relevant to their needs and aspirations.
There should be a call to use African languages in acquiring and
disseminating knowledge for the purpose of sustainable education.
Most African societies – if not all – are multilingual. This is to
say that learners in African schools would have gained some degree
of proficiency in their L1s even before starting to learn a foreign
language. The only difference is in the syntactic and morphological
structures between the mother-tongue and the foreign language they
are obliged to acquire. The UNESCO Institute for Lifelong
Learning in its 2010 report aptly states: “…the choice of languages,
their recognition and sequencing in the education system, the
development of their expressive potential, and their accessibility to a
wider audience should […] be gradual, concentric and be done in an
all-inclusive approach”.
It is therefore imperative to note that a step-by-step integration
of African languages in educational systems shall yield far reaching
benefits for both learners and society. Local languages, if properly
utilized, could complement foreign languages as mediums of
instruction in African classrooms.
The multiplicity of languages in African societies could bring
about effective communications and unity contrary to the widely
held view that it could be a “communication barrier, and would
engender conflicts and tensions” (UNESCO Institute for Lifelong
Learning, 2010).
The existence of a variety of speech communities which use
different languages could be effective in matters of governance,
communication and above all, education. In essence, African
languages could be instrumental tools in reshaping the lives and
dreams of entire generations.

Safara, Université G. B., Saint-Louis, n° 11, Janvier 2012

7

Language policies could be developed through holistic means to
enhance social cohesion and overall linguistic and academic
development of learners. Thus concerted efforts of all stakeholders
in the business of education are needed to make learning vibrant. In
fact, African languages could be used as mediums of instruction in
schools to enhance students’ understanding of concepts that are
abstract and alien to them. When carefully selected and utilized, they
can positively improve learner’s performance in the achievement of
set down educational goals and targets. Also, with the use of
indigenous languages, and increased access to learning materials,
there will be massive community participation in the educational
arena. Thus, capacities of both the beneficiaries and implementers
of education shall be enhanced to reasonable degrees.
In its 2003 Biennial Meeting, ADEA succinctly stated that
African languages could be determinants for quality education.
Education for All Global Monitoring Report (2006), in concord
with ADEA, also asserted that “improving the quality of education
is one of the six goals of education”. These assertions have set the
motion for an all-out debate on the use of the mother-tongue with a
view to improving the educational performances of learners.
Linguistic diversity could bring to light the linguistic reality of a
country. Through a well-planned and coordinated language learning
programme, community activities could be clearly outlined.
According to Djite (2008) and Stronel (2002), a linguistically
empowered and creative people are able to contribute more
effectively to economic growth. This view is vital to note because
community life in African settings is characterized by the use of
languages.
Moreover, access to knowledge and information technology
through the use of African languages is critical in boosting the
productive capacities of beneficiaries. The language industry can
greatly complement the creative industry through the effective use
of mother-tongue based instruction or communication. African
languages continue to be relevant in education and commerce. Djite
(2008) discusses the importance of linguistic and cultural diversity
for development from the perspective of health, education,
governance and the economy. Industrial countries could help in the
development of strategies based on the realities on the ground in

8


order to meet their demands and targets within the framework of
efficient and healthy competitions. This shall enable education
planners and partners to effectively support drives that are
necessary to make education meaningful and responsive to the
needs of the people.
The argument in most intellectual circles that most African
languages are too costly and time-consuming to integrate in the
mainstream of educational systems should not be given much
consideration. This is because as language develops in use, it could
be used to meet set down targets using cost effective strategies. In
Senegal for instance, Associates in Research and Education for
Development (ARED) publish in Pulaar to respond to the Pulaar
community’s need and demand for Pulaar literature. ARED’s main
aim among other things is to go beyond basic and functional literacy
materials with a view to making their interventions broad-based and
in line with the changing needs of their beneficiaries.
Using the mother-tongue is the medium of instruction in
schools continues to draw the attention of many scholars. This is
because the learner’s L1 could greatly help him to better
comprehend abstract concepts that are supposed to be developed at
an early stage. Schools should build on the skills and expertise in the
first languages as language learning takes place in all subjects, not
only in language classes (UNESCO Institute for Lifelong learning,
2010).
Macdonald (1990) found that the frequent switch from one
medium of instruction to another continues to be responsible for
the inadequate linguistic proficiency of many early learners. Thus, a
good number of such learners eventually find it impossible to be
able to appropriately get themselves immersed in the foreign
language of instruction. Alidou and Brock- UTRE, 2006; 87
outlined that some students, particularly girls, avoid speaking in
class especially if the language of instruction is unfamiliar to them to
avoid being “ridiculed”. Girls are more likely to participate actively
in the classroom when the language of instruction is the local
language (World Bank, 2000).
With a carefully planned language instructional strategy,
learning in African schools could be greatly enhanced. Learning


9

outcomes could be qualitatively improved. Results of learning
objectives will be greatly enhanced.
This implies that Africans must start to take ownership of their
own education, not in isolation, but within the global context of
new technological flows and information orders. In “Decolonizing the
Mind” (1986), Ngugi Wa Thiong’o argues that the control of the
African mind during the transAtlantic slave trade and colonial
periods was done through the devaluation, at best, and destruction,
at worst, of the African peoples culture, art, dances, religions,
history, geography, education, and literature. Most crucial, of
course, was the domination of the African languages by the
languages of the colonial masters. This was necessary for them to be
able to dominate the mental universe of the African and this
necessity was explained away by the prejudicial assumption that
“what we understand by Africa is the unhistorical under-developed
spirit, still involved in the condition of nature” (Hegel, 1991:93). In
the same vein, both Emmanuel Kant (1960) and David Hume
(1964) believe in the inferiority of the Black race vis-à-vis the
Whites. Therefore, in the family of nations the African is “a lateborn child” according to Lugard (1968).
African culture and history are rich and their scientific
exploitation and popularization are a sure path to progress and
survival. The Gambia is one of those countries that could serve as a
glaring example in terms of cultural wealth. Her culture places high
premium on the respect of the integrity of women, and of marriage
to ensure harmony and procreation and the expansion of the family.
Before colonialism, venereal diseases were almost unknown in The
Gambia and the soundness of the cultural values transmitted to the
present generation explains why the HIV/AIDS prevalence rate in
this country is among the lowest in Africa. Wealth should not be
defined in fiscal terms alone. African culture and tradition are also
her wealth and academics are invited to explore further into the
intrinsic cultural morality of traditional Gambians.
It is evident that the continued effort to control the African
mind by controlling his language is so strong. This has resulted in
what Ngugi (1998, P.89) refers to as a continent of “bodiless heads
and headless bodies”. Yet in the 21st century it is not surprising to
find Africans dismissing any recognition of positive experiences in

10


African history or language (Menang: 2001). When an African
conspires to denigrate Africa (Emmanuel Kwofie: 1972) and her
glorious past while admiring and eulogizing the totality of Eurocentrism and trying to be what Ali and Alamin Mazrui (1998: P.137)
term Afro-Saxons; there is definitely a mental and developmental
problem. The role of the African people in taking the lead in
designing the development of their societies through Africancentered education by using African indigenous languages is central
to Africa’s socio-economic development. Africans must start to take
ownership of their own educational systems so that they find
solutions to Africa’s myriad problems.
Indeed, our continent is confronted with a plethora of
mammoth problems and challenges that permeate through every
single fabric of our human lives. These include health, education,
socioeconomic, political to name just a few. A prominent African
sombrely summarizes the African situation thus:
Once a region with rich natural resources as well as
bountiful stores of optimism and hope, the African
continent now teeters perilously on the brink of economic
disintegration, political chaos, institutional and social
decay.
While this appraisal of Africa might seem too depressing, very
few Africans would want to disagree with this observation that
Africa has been experiencing regression, rather than progress, not
only in the economic sphere, but also in the social and political
spheres. It is against this backdrop that it is deemed necessary to
rethink, revisit and re-conceptualize education in Africa to
contribute to the socio-political and economic transformation of the
continent.
Another prominent scholar on African studies also observes
that colonial education was Eurocentric and ignored the
achievements and contributions of the indigenous populations and
their ancestries; and that education in Africa is still struggling to rid
itself of this colonial legacy.
It is time for Africans to liberate themselves from this
Eurocentric colonial legacy if any meaningful development is to be
achieved. This can only be done by underpinning African education


11

in African indigenous cultures and languages as a tool for sociopolitical transformation. Strictly speaking, there is a strong nexus
between language, education and development (Mbaabu: 1996).
It is indeed true that development in any country has to do with
the improvement of the social, cultural, economic and political lives
of the people. However, this paper will be confined to the nexus
between language, education, socio-economic development and the
international environment. There is evidence pointing to the fact
that there is a correlation between language, education and
economic development; and this lies in the nexus between language
and education on the one hand, and education and development on
the other, all evolving within a given international context. It is
axiomatic that language plays a critical role in education. Ngugi Wa
Thiong’o identifies two aspects in every language: one is its role as
an agent that enables us to communicate with one another in our
struggle to find our means of survival; the other aspect is its role as
a carrier of the history and the culture built into the process of that
communication over time. The two aspects, he concludes, are
inseparably linked and form a dialectical unity, describing language
as the collective memory bank of a people.
Going back to the role of language in education and
consequently in development, this paper earlier emphasized the role
of language in education. It is through linguistic interaction between
teachers and learners on one hand, and among learners on the
other, that knowledge is produced. Certainly, language learning
proper, Bunyi argues, is an important component of the education
itself. Accordingly, much of the children’s early years in school are
spent on developing their linguistic skills. Such years are said to be
spent on literacy development.
Being one of the most multilingual continents, and therefore
the most linguistically complex area of the world, postIndependence Africa needs to revisit and re-examine what type of
literacy must support her policies as regards indigenous languages in
education. It is therefore clear that “the use, misuse or even the
non-use of a culture to which language belongs, can have a very
fundamental impact on the minds of those who would have
otherwise excelled, had they been taught and made to articulate
their thoughts in a language they understand, a language that they

12


are comfortable to spontaneously and creatively express their ideas
and experiences in” (Senkoro: 2005, P.15)
The relationship between literacy and economic development
has already been confirmed and established, and UNESCO
concludes in a study that illiteracy has a close correlation with
poverty and underdevelopment. This suggests that in order to
achieve meaningful development, literacy rates in Africa, especially
south of the Sahara, must be raised. Needless to say, policies as
regards indigenous languages in education will have a positive
impact on the success of African development.
The spread of languages such as English, French and
Portuguese was concomitant with the advent of colonialism.
Consequently, the educational role of these various languages has
been, arguably, more destructive than constructive: “With the
benefit of hindsight, one can only conclude that the colonial
administration machine, knowing the important role of language in
shaping one’s identity, initiated language policies that were meant to
subdue their subjects, making them more susceptible to western
languages and cultures. Many began to disdain their languages and
other cultural practices, trying instead very hard to learn the western
way” (Mohochis: 2005, P.5). Furthermore, whether through practice
or by attitudes, the colonial languages have come to enjoy
unparalleled pride and prestige in formal education in Africa.
Ironically, it is African indigenous languages that have been and
continue to be neglected in the formal education in Africa.
As long as the denigration and devaluation of the African
indigenous languages continue, no meaningful development can
take place in the continent. It is time Africans domesticated African
educational institutions by creating a strong relationship between
indigenous languages and education for the purpose of socioeconomic development. This, combined with the use of ICTs as
tools, can be fruitful in the drive to achieve new goals as set out in
the 21st Century agenda.
Indigenizing education needs a total social re-engineering and
this is not only vital, but also immensely necessary if Africans want
to promote and effect socio-structural change and to meet
educational needs for socio-economic development.


13

To achieve this, indigenous African languages should be given a
more central role in education in Africa so as to contribute to the
much needed social, economic and political transformations. The
enormity and difficulty of this task is self-evident because of
Africa’s socio-linguistic complexity.
Language is constantly evolving and the language policy in
Africa today must take into consideration its utility, and its
integration into regional and continental supranational institutions.
Language, as an instrument of development, should serve the
African and not the other way round. It should not be an
instrument that is used to construct ethnicity and nationality which
are fluid in most contemporary African societies.
As an instrument of development, language should be
effectively used as a tool to bridge the inequality gap that exists
among the different strata of African societies. Within the context
of social and economic development, it should be used to harness
the hopes and aspirations of the African people. It could, at all cost,
be used to portray the wishes and aspirations of the African people
within the framework of economic and social development; very far
from the notion that it will create ethnic strife.
Afro-centric scholars of contemporary times could use language
to counter the prejudices and bias in the colonial literature
concerning the black man (Okolo: 2005). It should be used to
redefine the black man as opposed to the Eurocentric definitions
and interpretations of him. A close re-examination of indigenous
African languages shall bring to light realities concerning African
culture, values, knowledge, beliefs and standards. This, to a large
extent, shall unlock the mystery that has for a long time surrounded
the African cosmological system.
In fact, local languages could be effective tools that could be
used to identify and strengthen the bonds that exist between and
among the diverse ethnic groups in African societies. In some
extreme situations, they could be used not only to intimately
connect peoples and societies, but also to identify their different
cultural identities and locations.
The different linguistic groupings and languages could be
harmonized with the different speakers adopting one as the lingua
franca. Kiswahili is a typical example: it is spoken by almost 95% of

14


the population (Batibo 1995: P.68) in Tanzania and other East
African countries with more than 120 local languages according to
Roy-Campbell and Qorro: 1997 (quoted by Senkoro: 2005, P.7).
Wollof could be the Kiswahili of the Senegambia region if the will is
there. With that, one could clearly see the unifying nature of the
language within a complex sociolinguistic setting.
Furthermore, post-Independence African countries continue to
grapple with problems associated with language. This is because
rather than serving as a unifying and developmental tool, it is used
in many instances to divide the masses. Thus, a complete rethinking
on the use of language for social reorientation and development is
essential in both political and intellectual discourses within and
among the African academic circles. This shall help unlock the
mystery that surrounds the different African linguistic units within
the broader context of development. Debates over the roles of
African languages in social, political and economic transformations
in African societies need to be at the forefront of debates
concerning language as a tool for development and progress in
post-Independence Africa.
It is urgent to address the challenges that the colonially imposed
languages represent for students and scholars in Africa as they strive
to understand their linguistic identities within a global framework.
The exercise should not be restricted but broadened in order to
create a healthy intellectual reflection on the issue.

References:
Conrad, J., 1950, ‘Heart of Darkness’ (1899), in Joseph Conrad, Heart
of Darkness and the Secret Sharer, New York: Penguin Publishers.
Hegel, G.W.E., 1991, The Philosophy of History, Trans. J. Sibree,
Buffalo, New York: Prometheus Books.
Hume, D., 1964, ‘Of National character’, in Thomas Hill Green and
Thomas H. Grose, eds., The Philosophical works, Darmstadt 3, no 1.


15

Kant, E., 1960, Observation on the feelings of the beautiful sublime, Trans.
J.I, Goldthwait: Berkeley and Los Angeles.
Kenya”, Journal of African Cultural Studies, vol. 16 no. 1, pp. 85-94.
Kwofie, E.N., 1972, ‘The Language question and Language consciousness in
West Africa’, African Studies Association of the West Indies, Bulletin no.
5. December.
Lugard, (1922), The Dual Mandate in British Tropical Africa, Edinburgh
and London: William Blackwood and Sons.
Lugard, F.D., (1968), The Rise of our East African Empires, vol. 1,
London: Frank Cass.
Mafeje, Archie. (1994). ‘African intellectuals: an inquiry into their
genesis and social options’ in Mamdani, Mahmood and Mamadou
Diouf eds. Academic freedom in Africa. Dakar: CODESRIA
Mazrui, A.A and Mazrui, A. (1995), Swahili, State and Society: The
Political Economy of and African Language, Nairobi & London: East
African Educational Publishers
Mbaabu, I. (1996), Language Policy in East Africa, Nairobi:
Educational Research and Publications.
Mohochi, E.S. (2005), “Language and Regional Integration: Foreign or
African Languages for the African Union?” In F.A. Yieke (ed.), East
Africa: In Search of National and Regional Renewal, Codesria, Dakar,
pp. 41-54.
Mohochi, S., Turning to Indigenous Languages for Increased Citizen
Participation
in
the
African
Development
Process,
http://www.codesria.org/IMG/pdf/mohochi.pdf
Ngugi wa Thiong’O, (1986), Decolonising the Mind: The Politics of
Language in African
Okolo, M., (2005), Reassessing the Impact of Colonial Languages on the
African Identity for African Development, CODESRIA’s 11th General
Assembly, December 6 – 10, 2005
Onoma, A.K. (2005), The Language Question: an Anti-essentialist
Excavation, CODESRIA General Assembly, Maputo,
Mozambique, 6-10 December, 2005

16


Senkoro, F.E.M (2005), Language of Instruction: The Forgotten Factor in
Education Quality and Standards in Africa, CODESRIA General
Assembly, Maputo, Mozambique, 6-10 December, 2005
UNESCO (2010 ), Why and how Africa should invest in African languages
and multilingual education - An evidence- and practice-based policy advocacy
brief, UNESCO Institute for Lifelong Learning
UNESCO, (1968), "The Use of Vernacular Languages in education: The
Report of the UNESCO Meeting of Specialists", in. J.A. Fishman (ed.),
pp. 688-716.


Francophonie in Africa South of Sahara:
Specificity, Challenges and Perspectives
Chaibou Elhadji OUMAROU *
Introduction
What do we mean when we talk about Francophonie? For Jean
Claude Blachère (1993: 7), francophonie is a concept “not
stabilized, its geography is fuzzy, its history poorly known, and its
definition feeds perplexity.” This is especially because “It is difficult,
indeed, to say who speaks French in black Africa- to limit ourselves
to this space- and what it means to speak French: a little, a lot,
passionately "? Even the concept of "francophone," says Jean
Claude Blachère (1993: 7), is ambiguous because it "should cover
only situations of orality 1" while it is used without question to
describe an opaque monster called "francophone literature 2."
Ambroise Kom (2000) describes Francophonie as a machine
with three speeds. First there is the Francophonie of the North
whose space covers France, Quebec, Acadia, Belgium and
Switzerland in particular. In all these countries, he adds, French, as a
mother tongue, is an ancient heritage of which the heirs and
custodians are trying to manage in the best of their skills with the
aim to making it grow and expand beyond their borders and leave it
*

Enseignant chercheur à l’Université Abou Moumouni, Niger.

1

La francophonie est un concept « non stabilisé, sa géographie est floue,
son histoire mal connue, et sa définition alimente la perplexité, »
d’autant plus qu’ « Il est bien difficile, en effet, de dire qui parle
français en Afrique noire- pour s’en tenir à cet espace- et ce que c’est
que parler français : un peu, beaucoup, passionnément ?» (p.7)

2

See also Jean-Louis Joubert et al. Les Littératures francophones depuis 1945.
Paris : Bordas, 1986.

18

C. E. Oumarou : Francophonie in Africa South of Sahara

thus enriched for their progeny. Then there is the Francophonie of
the Arab world, that of Lebanon, Morocco, Algeria, Tunisia and
even Egypt. This Francophonie is similar with that of Asia. Finally,
there is the Francophonie of Africa south of Sahara.
The latter is the focus of this paper, especially its specificity, its
challenges and its future prospects. To better understand that
specificity, we have to go back in history and reopen the issue of the
cultural and linguistic policy of France in order to look for and
explain the historical, political and cultural roots of the
Francophonie in sub-Saharan Africa. The challenges to this
Francophonie will then be analyzed through the colonial policy of
France and its consequences on the educational and cultural
development in the countries concerned. The analysis will allow us
to project the future of a new and more dynamic Francophonie for
Africa. Note that if necessary the cultural and linguistic policy of
France will be compared to that of Great Britain. The purpose of
this comparison will be to better identify the "mistakes" of the
Francophonie and learn from the Anglophone experience.
The specificity of the Francophonie in Africa south of Sahara
As already explained above, with the francophone of the North
the expansion of the French language is always received with some
satisfaction. What is more, in all these countries the people rightly
claim the right and freedom to live, to dream and develop their
"daily life in French;" which, briefly, defines the Francophonie of
the North in opposition to the one of the South.
The latter in turn has different characteristics depending on
geography and history. Indeed, in Africa Ibnlfassi Laila and Nicki
(1996: 6) have found the Francophone literature from both sides of
the Sahara "fascinating because of the differences emerging from
the two corners of a shared continent which experienced similar
colonial histories, albeit in slightly different forms." Thus the central
question that interests us at this point in terms of definition is to
know what the Francophonie in Asia and in the Maghreb have in
common and what distinguishes them from both the Francophonie
of the North and the one of black Africa. Unlike in the North, in
Asia and in North Africa French is either a second language or a


19

foreign language, not a mother tongue; which is also the case in
Africa south of Sahara. But unlike black Africa, the Arab world, it is
said, is culturally and linguistically homogeneous. Here in the Arab
world language, culture and religion intermingle against the
background of centuries-old Islamic civilization recognized as such
by the colonizer 3.
A. C. Brench (1967 :100-101) suggests that recognition when he
explains how the perception and approach of the colonizer toward
the Muslims were colored by the expansion of Islam into Europe
where it took roots and even came into conflict with the Christian
religion. So for Brench (ibid.), "This is one of the many and varied
reasons why it [Islam] has been treated with circumspection and
respect by the various administrations. During the colonial period,
Muslims were permitted a certain amount of religious and political
autonomy by the administration and missionaries. They were not
treated as unsophisticated pagans and their beliefs, although
considered erroneous, were respected 4.”
Indeed, in the eyes of the French colonizer, there is one major
difference that distinguishes the colonized peoples of Black Africa
from the ones of Asia and North Africa. For example, unlike the
former, the latter are considered as peoples "of ancient civilization,
but vanquished (Antoine Leon 1991: 266), as it is the case in
Indochina and North Africa. This recognition by the colonizer of
the ancient nature of the civilizations of these peoples has therefore
been one of the major reasons that led to adopt an attitude more
conciliatory and respectful of their cultural and linguistic identities
in comparison to the attitude of the same colonizer in non
Islamized black Africa.
The most illustrative example of this attitude was the
conciliatory approach to teaching in elementary education. Indeed,
Leon (ibid.) tells us that in Indochina the instruction is given in the
native language during the first three years of primary education. It
3

4

See also Jean-Marc Moura. La litterature des lointains: histoire de l’exotisme
europeen au XXe siècle. Paris : Honore Champion, 1998.

See also Birgit Meyer et al., eds. Globalization and Identity: Dialectics of
Flow and Closure. Oxford: Institute of Social Studies/Blackwell Publishers,
1999: 75.

20


is also the case in the Maghreb, especially in Morocco, where "the
language of the colonizer and that of the colonized [Arabic] are
used jointly" (266, emphasis added).
This educational approach is reminiscent of the one adopted by
Great Britain in all its African colonies. Maybe we can also read
some influence of the British policy of Indirect Rule on the French
colonial administration as well as a recognition, even implicit, by the
French, of its effectiveness. In all cases, Mahmood Mamdani (1996
:82-3) confirms this hypothesis when he writes that the change from
the French policy of assimilation to that of association in Africa
south of Sahara was inspired by both the experience of France in
Indochina and Algeria, but also by " the British example next door”.
This, Mamdani says, has enabled France to appreciate "the need for
a native cultural policy rather than assimilation."
Unfortunately, despite the good educational outcomes
produced by this method, which involves the teaching of local
languages in primary education before the language of the
colonizer, France did not implement the teaching of local
languages in its system of education in Africa South of the Sahara,
preferring a policy of assimilation much more rigorous and
glottophage, to paraphrase Jean-Louis Calvet (1993). Now the
question is why, of all its colonies, it was only in those in Africa
south of Sahara that France rigorously applied its policy of
assimilation?
In response to this question, the chief colonial administrator in
charge of education in Cochin China first recognizes that "it is a
common sense that the teaching of early childhood education is
given in the mother tongue of the child." Of course he means when
the teaching concerns "civilized" people with "ancient civilization"
like the ones from Asia and North Africa. But the same philosophy
does not apply in Black Africa because, according to the same
colonial administrator, French is essential, in the first years, for "the
education of barbarous or semi-civilized peoples."(Leon, 1991: 288;
emphasis added) Michael Crowder (1962: 3) also observed that the
attitude of the French colonizer towards the Africans south of the
Sahara was different because this part of the continent was regarded
as having "no indigenous culture worthy of the name.” So in the


21

eyes of the colonizer, Africa south of Sahara would be the habitat of
"barbarians"; "a cultural desert," would say Gabriel Manessy (1994).
To materialize this approach to cultural and linguistic policy
of assimilation, the French developed a colonial educational
system first in the metropolis and then in the colonies. Even in
France some explained that this policy of assimilation was the
result of the spirit of the Revolution of 1789. Thus, in her
analysis of the institutional framework of Francophonie, notably
through what she calls the "Traditional French Linguistic
Policies, Their Extension to Her Colonial Empire and Their
Legacy Today" Anne Judge notes that it was after the
questionnaire developed by Abbé Grégoire in 1790 which shows
the existence of many languages and dialects spoken in France
that the Revolutionaries, in a spirit of justice and equality,
“decided that [languages and dialects of France] should be
suppressed in the name of equality of opportunity 5. This began a
movement to establish state schools for the teaching of
French."(In Laila Ibnlfassi et al, eds. 1996:13)
It is therefore not surprising that in 1829 the Governor of
Senegal undertook to establish schools where instruction was
intended “to wipe out through a common education the difference
5

Mais le rêve révolutionnaire s’est vite transformé en un rêve impérial
dont la francophonie va devenir le support principal. C’est du moins
ce que nous apprend J-C. Blachère (1993 :25) à travers un discours
d’inauguration d’une école coloniale en Afrique noire à la fin du
19eme siècle. Ainsi, pour le gouverneur de l’époque, « Le jour n’est
peut-être pas éloigné où depuis le littoral de la Méditerranée jusqu’au
golfe de Guinée un voyageur pourra, en tous lieux, entrer en relation
avec les principaux habitants des pays parcourus au moyen de la langue
française. Ce jour-la, notre œuvre sera devenue indestructible comme
le fut celle des Romains dans l’Espagne et la Gaule antiques. Le nordouest africain tout entier sera pour toujours une terre imprégnée des
souvenirs et de la civilisation de la France. » Le rêve impérial
transparaît ici à travers la comparaison de l’œuvre civilisatrice de la
France à celle des Romains, donc de l’empire romain avec le futur
empire français.

22


in customs and language” (in Spencer 1974: 163). About a century
later, precisely on December 20, 1920, the Governor General of
AEF signed an order which states that "No school will be allowed
where the instruction is not given in French. The teaching of any
other language is forbidden "(In-Tabi Manga 2000: 42). Henri
Labouret (1938) is therefore right to say that, generally, the cultural
and linguistic policy in France was influenced by its history. And F.
Michelman (1995: 219) adds that this history is the legacy of the
Roman Empire, particularly its tendency "towards linguistic and
cultural centrism." So it is no surprise that Thomas Spear (2002: 11)
tells us that of all the languages of colonization, French is the only
one “whose old European capital remains the epicenter." And Spear
adds that "only the French language has a European-based linguistic
headquarter- from which the basic dictionaries are published 6 ...."
(My translation) This headquarter is the French Academy founded
in 1635 to regulate the use of French in France and around the
worldwide.
Indeed, it is Richelieu who created that academy, which,
according to Harriet Walter (1994: 244), "will have the mission to
decode the vocabulary and fix grammar. The first edition of the
Dictionnaire de l’Académie prescribed in 1694 a "good usage,"
[meaning] the one of the court and of high society, as well as
orthography respectful of etymology 7.” (My translation) A century
later, in 1794, Father Gregory demanded the abolition of all other
"dialects" in favor of French. And finally, in 1964 De Gaulle created
the Haut Conseil de la Langue Française thus taking, in the words
of Rubango (1999: 572), "the Francophonie to the baptismal font."
This Haut Conseil later became the Haut Commissariat and then
the Delegation a la Langue Française before becoming
Francophonie under Francois Mitterrand.
« Seul le français a un siège linguistique européen—d’où viennent les
dictionnaires de base… ».
7
«aura pour mission de décoder le lexique et de fixer la grammaire. La
première édition du Dictionnaire de l’Académie consacre en 1694 un «bel
usage», celui de la cour et des gens de qualité, ainsi qu’une
orthographe respectueuse de l’étymologie».
6


23

Irene d'Almeida (Spear in 2002) is therefore right to believe that
the French language policy has its origins in the creation of the
French Academy, whose main purpose is to ensure the purity of the
French language. For Christian Valentin (2001: 55), Francophonie
recalls "the assimilating dream of the Third Republic [which was] to
bring together the peoples of the Empire around the same language
spoken by all, in the same cultural melting pot8." (My translation)
This is probably the same project that inspired the French colonial
policy of assimilation and glottophagie in Africa south of Sahara
and brought about the challenges facing Francophonie today.
The Challenges Facing Francophonie in Africa south of
Sahara
"In less than ten years, the Africans will speak English, the
technology they will use will come from America, their elites will be
educated in the United States, as for we [the French], we will remain
cut off from our African roots, curled up on a chilly Europe,
incapable of being a competitive power 9."(Bernard Debre, a former
French Minister of Cooperation," Plaidoyer pour l’Afrique", Le
Figaro, 9 février, 1998)
"Between the African intellectuals and the negro kinglets
[roitelets] Paris had chosen long ago. Calls, pressing sermons,
institutions, as rich as they are, will not help: the official
Francophonie is bound to be the flag parade of hack mercenaries,

8

«le rêve assimilateur de la IIIème République [qui était] de rassembler les
peuples de l’Empire autour d’une même langue parlée par tous, dans
un même creuset culturel».

9

« Dans moins de dix ans, les Africains parleront anglais, la technologie
qu’ils emploieront sera américaine, leurs élites seront éduquées aux
Etats-Unis, nous resterons quant a nous [les Français] coupés de nos
racines africaines, recroquevillés sur une Europe frileuse, incapable
alors d’être une puissance écoutée.

24


and the laughing stock of independent creators 10. "(Mongo Béti,"
Seigneur, deliver-nous de la Francophonie, " In Peuples noirs-Peuples
africains, nos 59-62, sept-déc.1987/janv.-avr.1988, 106; My
translation)
The concern of the Minister Debré and the judgment without
appeal of Mongo Béti are the consequences of the cultural and
linguistic policy of colonial France of which Francophonie is a new
manifestation. This is so much so because the weight of regulation
of the colonial and now postcolonial school, with its educational
reflexes, continues to weigh heavily on the minds and lives of the
elite in particular (see also Blachère 1993) and on the socioeconomic and cultural development in general. The challenges, as
they will be discussed later, are enormous; and although they cover
all the aspects of the lives of Francophone Africans, the language
issue remains the greatest concern.
Already in 1961, Pierre Alexandre, in an article entitled "Les
problèmes linguistiques des Etats négro-africains à l’heure de
l’indépendance” [The Linguistic Problems of Negro-African States
at the Time of Independence], established a link between these
challenges and the language policy of France. He particularly
emphasized how the exclusive use of French in colonial and now
postcolonial schools, explains without doubt, on the one hand, the

10

« Entre les intellectuels africains et les roitelets nègres, il y a longtemps
que Paris a choisi. Les appels, les sermons pressants, les institutions,
aussi riches soient-elles, n‘y feront rien : la francophonie officielle est
condamnée à être l’étendard de parade de plumitifs mercenaires, et la
risée des créateurs indépendants. »


25

delay in African studies in France 11 compared to what happened in
London or Brussels; and on the other hand, the fact that French,
because of its glottophagie, to paraphrase Louis-Jean Calvet,
"penetrated much deeper [into the being and identity of the
colonized] and was qualitatively better known in French colonies than
English in the English colonies. [The language policy of France] may also
explain why the "petit Nègre" or "Français tirailleurs" has never grown like the
Coastal English or Pidgin 12.”(183, emphasis added, my translation).
But the most serious challenge, as Ambroise Kom (2000: 108)
noted with bitterness, is that forty years after independence African
countries have not yet really begun the "decolonization of the
French language and its tools. Because of inadequate facilities, poor
management of local staff and, above all, the lack of a rigorous and
rational policy of appropriation of the colonial legacy, French, no

11

En effet, Jacqueline Bardolph a relevé avec regret le fait que des
théoriciens et intellectuels comme Dérida, Lacan, Foucault, Kristeva
et Irigaray, pourtant bien connus sur le plan international, ne lui
étaient pas d’un grand secours dans ses recherches sur les littératures
du Commonwealth. Et elle avance que cela est du au fait que les
débats sur les littératures postcoloniales ont pris forme d’abord en
Amérique du Nord et dans les pays anglophones du Commonwealth.
Elle ajoute que les littératures postcoloniales ne sont pas encore
enseignées dans les universités françaises. Pareille avec le féminisme,
ce qui, dit-elle, est pour le moins paradoxal dans le pays de Beauvoir,
Cixous, Kristeva et Irigaray (in Rowland Smith, ed. Postcolonizing the
Commonwealth: Studies in Literature and Culture. Waterloo. Ontario:
Wilfried Laurier University Press, 2000:39-47).

12

« pénétrait beaucoup plus en profondeur [de l’être ou de l’identité du
colonisé], et était qualitativement mieux connu dans les colonies françaises
que l’anglais dans les colonies anglaises. [La politique linguistique de la
France] peut aussi expliquer pourquoi le « petit negre » ou « français
tirailleurs » n’a jamais pris l’extension du Coast English ou Pidgin »

26


matter what is said, is far from being considered as part of the
African heritage. 13" (my translation)
In the foreword to his book: Le français en Afrique noire: mythes,
strategies, praitiques (1994), Gabriel Manessy rightly notes that the
school and the political and administrative structures "have somehow
limited negatively the other side of French in Africa, that is to say, the popular
French also called "petit negre 14 " (8, emphasis added). As Pierre
Alexandre and others had already done, Manessy did not resist the
temptation to compare the past with the present to better
understand the latter. Thus, he notes that unlike in the countries
colonized by Belgium, Germany or Great Britain, in all Frenchspeaking countries that were under French rule, French, today as
yesterday, "does assume there only unequally the role of lingua franca
among communities speaking different mother tongues. This is
obviously a direct legacy of colonization; the remarkable fact is that
the legacy has survived the abolition of colonization and it actually
seems not to be questioned anywhere 15... “(18; my translation). And
Manessy comments that, unlike in the English-speaking countries
where a pidgin developed as a lingua franca, there is in Francophone
Africa, a "relative unity of French (...) rather more surprising than its

« la décolonisation de la langue française et ses outils. Du fait de
l’insuffisance des structures, de la mauvaise gestion du personnel local
et, par dessus tout, de l’absence d’une politique rigoureuse et
rationnelle d’appropriation de l’héritage colonial, le français, quoi
qu’on dise, est loin d’être considéré comme faisant partie du
patrimoine africain ».
14
« ont en quelque sorte délimité négativement l’autre face du français d’Afrique,
c’est-à-dire le français populaire appelé aussi « petit nègre »
13

15

« n’y assume que fort inégalement le rôle de lingua franca entre les
communautés de langues maternelles différentes. Il s’agit là, bien
évidemment, d’un héritage direct de la colonisation ; le fait
remarquable est qu’il ait survécu à l’abolition de celle-ci et qu’il ne
paraisse être nulle part effectivement remis en question … »


27

diversification 16" (33; my translation; see also Calvet, L’Europe et ses
langues (1993).
Cote d'Ivoire is an exception with the development of “petit
nègre” in the major urban centers (Walter 1994: 153). This
explains in part why in Francophone Africa, in the words of Kom,
language awareness is the lowest. Some argue that the continent
has more pressing concerns than dealing with language issues.
Perhaps, but " is it not illusory, wonders Ambroise Kom, to think
that Africa can escape the simultaneous search for solutions to her
problems while facing the risk of deteriorating situations that
could have been remedied otherwise 17? (Kom 2000:108-9; my
translation).
In any case, adds Kom, "it (...) seems difficult to separate the
fate of African languages from the continent's political future 18" (6;
my translation). As for Calvet (1993), he binds the continent's
economic future to the development of African languages along
side French. After that, the issue of the revaluation of African
languages conceived and perceived as a condition for a genuine

16

« relative unité du français (…) qui surprend plutôt que sa
diversification »

17

« n’est il pas illusoire, se demande Ambroise Kom, de penser qu’on
peut ainsi échapper à la recherche simultanée des solutions aux
problèmes qui se posent au risque de voir se détériorer des situations
auxquelles on aurait pu remédier en s’y prenant à temps ?

18

« il (…) semble difficile de séparer le destin des langues africaines de
l’avenir politique du continent »

28


liberation is well documented 19. But their importance as a
challenge for Francophonie in Africa South of the Sahara deserves
a brief attention and review of the literature about the language
debate.
Kom and other researchers have in fact shown the importance
of seriously taking into account the question of African languages in
educational systems for the simple fact that there is no evidence that
French has really solved the problem of communication among the
language groups present in many Francophone countries. Language
of the elite and administration, French is used by the happy few
who were privileged to have attended school to a certain level. In
addition, despite all the campaigns for literacy, the school benefits
only a tiny fraction of the population. Therefore the development
of popular French that can strengthen the national unity is limited.
In fact, linguists agree that in the best case, not more than
10% of the populations of French-speaking Africa are truly
fluent in French, even if the official rates are higher for reasons
very well known. As an illustration, Kom took the case of
Senegal and Algeria, two countries where the French presence
was the longest in Africa. In the case of Senegal, Kom explains,
after three hundred years of French colonization, the country has
19

See K. Barber, « African Language Literature and Postcolonial
Criticism, » in Research in African Literatures, 24/4 (1995) :3-30 ; E.
Ngara et al, eds., Literature, Language, and the Nation, ATOLL/Baobab
Books, 1989; R. Fardon et al , eds., African Languages, Development and
the State, Routledge, 1994; Research in African Literatures, 23/1 (1992):
numéro spécial sur la question des langues africaines dans leurs
rapports avec la littérature et le développement; W. Safran et al, eds.,
Language, Ethnic Identity and the State, Routledge, 2005; Calvet,
L’Europe et ses langues, Plon, 1993; La guerre des langues et les politiques
linguistiques, Payot, 1987; Tabi-Manga, Les politiques linguistiques au
Cameroun, Karthala, 2000; Collectif, Language in Education in Africa,
Edinburgh: Centre of African Studies, 1986; International Journal of the
Sociology of Langauge, vol. 137 (1999); Gérard, European-Language
Writing in Sub-saharan Africa, Budapest, 1986; Fishman, ed. Advances in
Langauge Planning, Mouton, 1974.


29

only about 10% of the population that truly masters the language
of Voltaire. It is also the case in Algeria where, after one hundred
twenty-six years of colonization, the country had about 15% of boys
and 6% of girls who attended school in 1954 (Kom 2000:110-111).
Note that among these literate boys and girls, at least in the case of
Niger, many can barely write and sign their names!
The case of Niger is also good to think about by those who
want to sell Francophonie, claiming the role of the French language
as a tool of interethnic communication and the role it played in the
national unity. For if it is admitted that only 10% of the population
uses French, we must also add that there are ten ethnic groups in
the country. Assuming that the ten groups had equal access to
school, which is not certain, how many elites of each group are
fluent in French? Logically no more than 1%! This is to say that in
reality only 1% of the population of each group can communicate
effectively in French with all the other nine ethnic groups. In light
of the above facts, the opportunities for national unity by the
French language are rather slim 20.
In the same vein, William Safran argues that "a common
language does not guarantee national unity" (in Landau, ed.
International Journal of the Sociology of Language, vol.137 (1999:61).
Indeed, the case of Somalia illustrates the argument defended by
Safran because this country is, according to Gerard (1990: 73), "the
only sub-Saharan country with full ethnic homogeneity"; except, to
some extent, Burundi and Lesotho. And yet Somalia seems now
more than ever torn by internal conflicts. This means that other

20

Dans l’avant-propos de sa pièce théâtrale Tanimoune, l’historien
Nigérien André Salifou écrit: « Je n’ai absolument rien contre la
«francophonie », ni même contre la « francité », mais personne n’est
dupe : quand on dit d’un pays comme le Niger, par exemple, qu’il est
francophone, tout le monde sait qu’il ne s’agit la que d’une certaine
façon de parler de ce qui n’est pas. Les Nigériens capables de lire un
ouvrage- ou même le moindre texte- écrit en français, ne représentent
encore qu’une poignée de privilégiés. » (cite par Bokiba dans Ecriture et
Identité dans la Littérature Africaine. Paris : L’Harmattan, 1998 :29-30)

30


reasons have to be looked for outside multilingualism (see also
Bamgbose 1994). What then?
The future of Francophonie in Africa South of the Sahara
Ambroise Kom and others have proposed a change in the
educational systems, a change whose primary purpose will be "the
domestication of the French language" which necessarily entails a
certain valorization and development of African languages.
Especially because linguists and educators are unanimous that the
teaching of mother tongues in primary school education plays a
significant role in the transmission of theoretical and professional
knowledge and above all in the learning of a second or foreign
language like French in Africa. That is one of the conclusions that
Tabi-Manga (2000) and many others have learned from the British
experience. Moreover, that experience has been confirmed by all the
experimental schools of Francophone countries which nevertheless
continue to exclude the local languages from teaching in the other
schools. So teaching the African languages alongside French in our
schools must be the condition of our presence in a new
Francophonie that is fair, balanced, supportive and respectful of our
identity. It is also one of the major challenges facing Francophonie
in Africa south of Sahara.

Conclusion
"It is Hamani Diori, former president of the Republic of Niger,
who is cited as the architect of the institutional Francophonie for
having been credited with the initiative of ACCT and it is indeed
Leopold Sédar Senghor, poet, Academician and former president of
Senegal who is recognized as the greatest theorist and ideologue in


31

chief of the Francophonie movement. 21” (Kom 2000:111; my
translation)
So born in Niamey on the banks of the River Niger and weaned
in Dakar on the banks the River Senegal before joining its ancestors
on the banks of the Seine in France, it is still in Africa that
Francophonie is facing its greatest challenges. Growing pains or
crises of identity, Francophonie is facing challenges and paradoxes
that are threatening to destroy it in the absence of necessary
reforms. For Jean-Pierre van Deth, the Francophone countries
"have contributed in their way, and for various reasons, to the
current supremacy of English 22" (in Calvet 1993: 133; my
translation). Indeed, in Africa south of Sahara, the decline of the
French language is mainly due to the linguistic and cultural policy
that France conducted during colonization and continues to
practice after independence with the complicity of African leaders.
Already in 1985 Mohamadou Kane lamented the fact that some
French cultural assistants and African nationals "with the support of
the local political power, can deprive the education specialist of the
country of any pedagogical initiative 23" (in Beniamino 1999: 182; my
translation).
Fifteen years later, Ambroise Kom (2000: 52) notes with regret
that Notre Librairie "is a creation of the French Ministry of
Cooperation and Foreign Affairs and the Commissariat Général de
la Langue Française. Its objective is to popularize African literary
production in the continent and in the other French-speaking
nations of the world. The offices of Notre Librairie are located in the
21

« C’est bien Hamani Diori ancien président de la République du Niger
qui est cité comme l’artisan de la francophonie institutionnelle du fait
que l’initiative de l’ACCT lui revient et c’est bel et bien Léopold
Sedar Senghor, poète, académicien et ancien président de la
République du Sénégal qui est reconnu comme le plus grand
théoricien et l’idiologue en chef du mouvement de la francophonie. »

22

« ont contribué à leur manière, et pour diverses raisons, à la
suprématie actuelle de l’anglais »

23

« acquis au pouvoir politique, peuvent priver les spécialistes du pays
de toute initiative pédagogique »

32


Ministry of Cooperation and its editors are all staff of that Ministry.
Although Notre Librairie requests numerous [external] scientific
collaborations, the journal is primarily an instrument of propaganda;
extremely attentive to the image that African states want to give of
themselves and of their culture 24." (my translation)
Given the poverty of African countries and the low level of the
linguistic consciousness that characterize them and the financial and
political means available to the Francophonie, we can say without
any risk of error that the image of Africa, and especially of their
respective countries that these leaders will give is largely created by
and for the needs of the Francophonie. (See also Serge Bourjea in
Beniamino 1999: 189-190). But if in spite of all of the above facts,
one can still conclude that Francophonie is a failure then it becomes
necessary to draw the appropriate lessons.
The fundamental lesson comes from the experience of the
British or Anglophonie: namely the need to change the education
systems in Francophone Africa south of Sahara. The aim is to
introduce the teaching of local languages as a necessary complement
to the French language. Without this complementarity, warns Calvet
(1993: 167), "there will be no future for the French language” (my
translation), especially since the introduction of African languages in
primary education in the former British colonies has not stopped
English from flourishing. Instead the language of Shakespeare is
thriving so well that it has become a point of concern for the
Minister Debré (Kom 2000).

24

« est une création du Ministère français de la Coopération et des
Affaires Etrangères et du Commissariat Général de la Langue
française. Elle se donne comme objectif de faire connaitre la
production littéraire africaine sur le continent et dans les autres Etats
francophones du monde. Les bureaux de Notre Librairie se situent au
sein même du Ministère de la Coopération et ses éditeurs sont tous
fonctionnaires dudit ministère. Bien qu’elle sollicite de nombreuses
collaborations à caractère scientifique, la revue est avant tout un
instrument de vulgarisation ; extrêmement attentif à l’image que les
Etats africains veulent donner d’eux-mêmes et de leur culture »


33

Moreover, local cultures are much more developed in the
English speaking countries than in Francophone countries. For
Abdou Moumouni, the possibility of a flowering of African cultures
on the side of English was finally the mark of the difference
between the British colonization, with its education system
tolerating the teaching of local languages, and that of France which
dreamed of a universal language, French. Moumouni explains that
this difference is "not in any philanthropic tendency of English colonization
compared with the French, but in the objectively greater possibilities of cultural
development which flow from even the partial use of African languages in schools
"(in Michelman 1995:220; emphasis added).
In addition, the teaching of African languages will enable
students to have a better perception of their languages and
identities, without forgetting that it will allow an increase in
enrollment rates. It is probably no coincidence, says Gabriel
Manessy (1994: 26), if Togo and Benin, two countries where the
schools of the German missions kept the traditions of teaching in
local languages, quickly became, according to a famous formula, the
"Latin Quarter" of francophone west Africa while Senegal, even
after three hundred years of French colonization, is not very far
from Niger, often showcased as the worst example in Africa in
terms of schooling.
After the reform of schools, universities in francophone Africa
south of the Sahara as well as in the metropolis must in their turn be
reformed to become more interested in African Francophone
literature. Because they have been created in the image of French
universities, Kom (2000) reminds us, Francophone African
universities do not give enough importance to their own cultures
through the teaching of national literatures in French as well as in
local national languages. For example, none of these universities,
with the exception of the University of Yaoundé (although the case
of Cameroon is unique because of its bilingual situation: French and
English), has within it a department of African languages and / or
national literatures. By contrast, in Nigeria, for example, some
universities have curricula in Master (MA) and doctorate (PhD)
degrees in the three languages of wider communication: Hausa,
Yoruba and Ibo. And for many years it has been possible to have a

34


Master or a PhD entirely written and defended in these languages.
Akinwumi Isola informs us that at the University of Ife, for
example, the first PhD entirely written in Yoruba was defended on
March 7, 1991 (in Research in African Literatures 23 / 1 (1992: 21).
By contrast, adds Kom, in Dakar, Abidjan, and
Ouagadougou as well as in Brazzaville and Niamey, some go out
of their ways to ensure that the place given to national and
African literatures does not exceed the tolerable threshold for
those who will judge the equivalence or integration across the
different administrations. The reference is still to the French
curriculum. And Ambroise Kom (2000: 168) concludes that
"There is no irony to say that the example should still come from
France. [For] ... the reality is that African universities, although
they are autonomous, have a cultural contract to honor: that of
not taking the risk of straying too far away from the old model of
the metropolis. It is therefore important that the example comes
from elsewhere and that French universities themselves set the
tone [see also Alexandre 1961] and serve as models for their
African counterparts. Because if the French university had
granted the Francophone literatures of Africa, the Caribbean and
elsewhere a special place in their programs, Africa would not
have hesitated as to develop the teaching of its own literatures
and that of other francophone countries around the world 25."
25

« Il n’y a pas d’ironie à le dire : l’exemple doit encore venir de France.
[Car]… tout tient au fait que les universités africaines, bien
qu’autonomes, ont un contrat culturel à honorer : celui de ne point
prendre le risque de trop s’éloigner du modèle de l’ancienne
métropole. Il importe donc que l’exemple vienne d’ailleurs et que les
universités françaises elles-mêmes donnent le ton [voir aussi
Alexandre 1961] et servent de modèles à leurs homologues africaines.
Car si l’université française avait accordé aux littératures francophones
d’Afrique, des Antilles et d’ailleurs une place spécifique dans ses
programmes, l’Afrique n’aurait pas tant hésité à développer
l’enseignement de sa propre littérature et de celle des autres contrées
francophones du globe ».


35

(my translation) It is also our conviction. Moreover, the future of
the Francophonie in Africa south of Sahara will largely depend
on these reforms.

References:
Alexandre, Pierre. « Problèmes linguistiques des états négroafricains à l’heure de l’indépendance.» Cahiers d’Etudes Africaines
2/6 (1961):177-195.
Bamgbose, Ayo, « Pride and Prejudice in Multilingualism and
Development. » Richard Fordon et al; eds. African Languages,
Development and the State. London : Routledge, 1994 :33-43.
Baniamino, Michel. La francophonie littéraire: essai pour une théorie.
Paris/Montréal : L’Harmattan, 1999.
Blachère, Jean-Claude. Négritures. Les écrivains d’Afrique noire et la
langue française. Paris : L’Harmattan, 1993.
Béti, Mongo. « L’écrivain francophone, le public, la société. »
Littératures africaines : dans quelle(s) langue(s) ? Yaoundé :
Silex/Nouvelles du Sud, 1997 :237-242.
Brench, A.C. The Novelists’ Inheritance in French Africa: Writers from
Senegal to Cameroon. London: Oxford Univ. Press, 1967.
Calvet, Jean-Louis. L’Europe et ses langues. Paris: Plon, 1993.
Crowder, Michael. Senegal: A Study in French Assimilation Policy.
London: Oxford University Press, 1962.
Gerard, Albert. Contexts of African Literature. Atlanta, GA: Rodopi, 1990.
Ibnlfassi, Laila and Nicki Hitchcott, eds. African Francophone Writing:
A Critical Introduction. Oxford: BERG, 1996.
Joubert, Jean-Louis et al. Les littératures francophones depuis 1945.
Paris : Bordas : 986.
Kom, Ambroise. La malédiction africaine : défis culturels et condition
postcoloniale en Afrique. Yaoundé : Lit/Clé, 2000.

36


Labouret, Henri. « L’éducation des indigènes : méthodes
britanniques et françaises.» L’Afrique Française 38 (1928) : 404-411.
Léon, Antoine. Colonisation, enseignement et éducation : étude historique et
comparative. Paris : L’Harmattan, 1991.
Manessy, Gabriel. Le français en Afrique noire : mythes, stratégies,
pratiques. Paris: L’Harmattan, 1994.
Mamdani, Mahmood. Citizen and Subject: Contemporary Africa and the
Legacy of Late Colonialism. New Jersey: Princeton University Press,
1996.
Meyer, Birgit et al. eds. Globalization and Identity: Dialectics of Flow and
Closure. Oxford: Institute of Social Studies/Blackwell Publishers,
1999.
Michelman, Fredric. « French and British Colonial Language Policies:
A Comparative View of Their Impact on African Literature. »
Research in African Literatures 26/4 (Winter 1995): 216-225.
Moura, Jean-Marc. La littérature des lointains : histoire de l’exotisme
européen au XXe siècle. Paris : Honore Champion, 1998.
Spear, Thomas C. « Introduction. » La culture française vue d’ici et
d’ailleurs, 2002 :9-37.
Spencer, John. « Colonial Language Policies and their Legacies in
Sub-Saharan Africa. » Joshua A. Fishman, ed. Advances in Language
Planning. The Hague/Paris: Mouton, 1974: 163-175.
Valentin, Christian. « La francophonie et la langue française. » Revue
des Deux Mondes, (nov.-déc. 2001) :52-59.
Walter, Harriette. L’aventure des langues en occident : leur origine, leur
histoire, leur géographie. Paris : Ed. Robert Laffont, 1994.
Ya Rubango, Nyunda. « Le Congo et l’Afrique face aux enjeux et
aux paradoxes de la francophonie.» Revue Canadienne des Etudes
Africaines, vol.33, Nos 2/3 : 571-583.


Transtextuality in South African Fiction:
The Novels of Alex La Guma and André Brink

Khadidiatou DIALLO*
Abstract
This article seeks to analyze the transtextual network that binds the novels of
Alex La Guma and André Brink in order to explain and demonstrate that
the similarities and particularities noted in the thematic and aesthetic
representation they made of racial discrimination is, actually, a multi-layered
denunciation of such an evil. In this way, it explores the paratextual design and
the intertextual parallelism that frame the message of commitment and
transethnicity of both authors.
Keys words: Transtextuality, paratextuality, intertextuality.
Résumé
Cet article est une analyse des relations transtextuelles que partagent les romans
d’Alex La Guma et d’André Brink dans le but d’expliquer et d’affirmer que
les similitudes et spécificités dans le traitement thématique et esthétique qu’ils
font de la discrimination raciale en Afrique du sud est, en réalité, une critique
caustique et multidimensionnelle de cette tragédie historique. Ainsi, cette étude
examine le paratexte et les réseaux intertextuels par lesquels les deux auteurs
encodent leur message d’engagement et leurs idéaux transethniques.
Mots clés : Transtextualité, paratextualité, intertextualité.

*

Enseignante Chercheur, Université Gaston Berger de Saint Louis,
Sénégal.

38

K. Diallo: Transtextuality in Laguma’s and Brink’s fiction

Introduction
One thing that catches attention after reading works by South
Africa’s literati is the recurrent treatment of the issue of apartheid.
A wide range of literary works expose the same concern about the
contradictions and abuses that were the order of the day under the
Nationalist regime.
Like many other figures, La Guma and Brink made caustic
representations of the realities of the political regime that was
running the country. By portraying the multifarious effects of such a
system on the lives of individuals and groups, they are conscious
that writers can be sometimes rebels who fight for “…human
values – against everything which threatens the human – against
everything which is essentially inhuman” 1, like promoting a culture
that separates people on a race basis.
Although “historically and legally separated” as coloured and
white, La Guma and Brink share the conviction that South Africa
must be freed from the arbitrariness of political power, a conviction
framed in their productions through different perspectives.
Following the principle upheld by Mikhail Bakhtin and Julia
Kristeva that texts cannot be separated from the larger cultural or
social textuality out of which they are constructed, it is no wonder
that the writings of La Guma and Brink be sunk into the realities of
South Africa under apartheid and present, to a certain degree, the
same thematic and aesthetic reference. Thus, it will be enthralling a
task to probe into the narrative shape and assess some techniques
that sustain the representation of apartheid in order to show that it
is a multifaceted denunciation of the lot of those who have borne
the brunt of oppression.

1

André Brink, “Writers and Writing in the World”, Writing in a State of
Siege: Essays on Politics and Literature, New York: Summit Books, 1983,
p. 51.


39

In this essay - concentrating on a work by each writer (In the Fog
of the Seasons’ End 2 and A Dry White Season 3) and leaning on
Genette’s theory of transtextuality - I seek to demonstrate that the
parallel depiction of racial discrimination in La Guma’s and Brink’s
works is, actually, a multivoiced indictment of the same arbitrary
ideology. By spotlighting the paratextual and intertextual similarities
and differences in the representation of South Africa, I hope to
show that this transtextual depiction of the same issue suggests the
meanings and impact of the two authors’ commitment to debunk
the system.
1. Paratextual Framing
In Palimpsestes 4, Gérard Genette defines transtextuality as a network
of implicit or explicit relations that binds one text to another.
Transtextuality is composed of five branches: intertextuality,
paratextuality, metatextuality, architextuality and hypertextuality, all
of them defining the different levels of textual dialogism. These
models of literary cooperation are found in the novels of André
Brink and Alex La Guma, although paratextuality and intertextuality
are among the approaches that help the most both authors in their
endeavour to map out the hideous face of apartheid.
Paratextuality refers to all the elements that are at the outskirt of
a piece of literary work, the textual drawings that accompany the
work and which bear some “suggested” link with the story. “More
than a boundary or a selected border, the paratext is, rather, a

Alex La Guma, In the Fog of the Seasons’ End, London: Heinemann,
1972. All references to this novel are taken from this edition. In the
text the title is abbreviated as The Fog.
3
André Brink, A Dry White Season, New York: Penguin Books, 1984. All
references to this novel are taken from this edition. In the text the title
is abbreviated as A Dry.
2

4

Gérard Genette, Palimpsestes : la littérature au second degré, Paris :
Editions du Seuil, 1982.

40


threshold. It is a “zone between text and off-text, a zone not only of
transition but also of transaction […]” 5
In The Fog and A Dry, the paratext takes the form of a
quotation, a text commonly known as “epigraph” which
“determine[s] and shape[s] readers’ expectations as they enter the
text” 6 and encloses clues that can lead to a full understanding of the
story. In the first novel, the reader finds an “allographic epigraph” 7
borrowed from the poem of Guinean Conte Saidon Tidiany,
Martyrs. It reads like this:
Banquets of Black entrails of the Black,
Armour of Parchment of wax,
Fragile and Fugitive when facing the burning
stone,
Will be shattered like the spider web,
In the Fog of the Seasons’ End. (The Fog, i)
By its strategic place, this citation from Martyrs should, normally,
arouse the curiosity of the “competent” 8 reader. The gist of the
story in The Fog is a sensitization about the imperative of armed
struggle in the colonial context of apartheid. As such, the meaning
of the narrative is in line with the connotations of the epigraph.
Indeed, in the poem, Tidiany alludes to the sufferings and shackles
of bondage that have, for a long time, enslaved and killed blacks –
“Banquets of black entrails of the Black” - , an oppression exerted
by the ferocious and brutal white Oppressor – “Armour or
parchment of wax”. But such a violent power from whites makes
blacks become vulnerable – “Fragile and fugitive when facing the
burning stone” - , which, however, progressively crumbles face to
the dauntless black martyrs – “like the spider web”- ; this signals
Gérard Genette, Paratexts: Threshold of Interpretation, Cambridge:
Cambridge University Press, 1997.
6
Simon Gikandi, Ngugi Wa Thiong’o, Cambridge: Cambridge University
Press, 2000, p. 98.
5

7

8

Ibid, p. 151. [“The epigraph is most often allographic, that is […]
attributed to an author who is not the author of the text.”
To refer to Russian Formalists.


41

the end of a long season of affliction- “In the fog of the seasons’
end”. The significance of the fogged existence of the oppressed
groups, hinted in the poem, is further disclosed by Fritz Pointer:
In The Fog of the Seasons’ End suggests that, even as
African people struggle for true independence
and their humanity, in these final days of colour
and racism, the end may appear cloudy and often
obscure. Still at the end of the seasons, in the
words of Dr Martin Luther King, ‘we, as a people
will get to the promised land’. This is a very
functional and optimistic image, one that plays a
wonderful role in the thematic development of
this novel.6
In this way, the meaning of the intertext is very accurate in the light
of La Guma’s desire to sensitize people against the violence of
racism and discrimination. The epigraph-text bears a semantic link
with the themes discussed in The Fog because not only does it
reinforce the message encoded in the events but it allows a better
understanding of the attitudes and reactions of characters like
Beukes or Elias. Finally, the extract from Conte’s poem adds to the
symbolism of La Guma’s novel: The Fog deals with the
determination of daring figures who strongly believe that behind
the cloudy sky of South Africa lies a gleam of hope for a better
future.
In the same vein, the image of the “season” is used as a
metaphor in the allographic epigraph that welcomes the reader in
A Dry. Sharing the same motive with La Guma, Brink resolutely
uses other literary elements from pre-existent works so as to remould the collective consciousness of his community, warped by
arbitrary beliefs, but also to better voice his fierce determination to
rehabilitate the social and political condition of his country. A Dry
unfolds a poignant and realistic account of the backlashes of
repressive policies on Apartheid-run South Africa. “Depicted as a
massive totalitarian state with an elaborate apparatus of paid or
terrorized informers and a highly organized system of torture and
intimidation […] South Africa is revealed to Ben du Toit as a self-

42


perpetuating terror machine.” 9 In this respect, in A Dry, Brink calls
to Mongane Wally Serote, a black Soweto poet, to set the tone of
the story through the epigraph. It has this form:
It is a dry white season
dark leaves don’t last, their brief lives dry out
and with a broken heart they dive down gently
headed for the earth
not even bleeding
it is a dry white season brother,
only the trees know the pain as they still stand
erect
dry like steel, their branches dry like wire,
indeed, it is a dry white season
but seasons come to pass (A Dry)
Like Brink and La Guma, Serote was among the most committed
and undaunted artists who was spurred by a dream of equality and
justice. The epigraph is woven around the metaphor of the “dry
white season”, that hints at the harshness of the “seasons of
apartheid”. These lines at the threshold of the novel already
connote the inhuman situation generated by the racist regime in
South Africa, where Non Whites like Gordon Ngubene or
Jonathan do not live long because of the repressive apparatus of
the government - “dark leaves don’t last, their brief lives dry out.
Still, these terror policies meet the resistance of valiant black
fighters who, though vulnerable, stand up firmly - “only trees know
the pain as they still stand erect, dry like steel”: indeed, however dry
and harsh as white racism may be, “seasons come to pass”.
Therefore, the epigraph suggests the “age of iron” 10 upon
Fritz Pointer, A Passion to Liberate. La Guma’s South African Images of
District Six, Trenton: Africa World Press, 2001, p. 123.
7
André Brink,
(http://www.galenet.com/servlet/litRCVrsn:300p:containslocID:wi
sc_madison&srch), accessed 4/20/2004.
6

10

To refer to John-Maxwell Coetzee in Age of Iron, New York: Penguin,
1990.


43

blacks but also whites (like Ben du Toit) who are pegged as
dissident.
Thus, not only do the epigraphs in La Guma’s and Brink’s
novels constitute another evocative way to represent life under
apartheid, but they are “a text” that can help the reader better grasp
the temerity of black resistants and the experiences of characters.
Apart from justifying the choice of titles in both novels, they are a
symbolic expression of the ideals of both prose-writers.
The symbolic connotation of the paratext is much more
articulated through the use of dedications in The Fog and A Dry.
Analyzing this element of intertextuality urges to probe the
meanings of the text through which an author dedicates to or
names his work after someone or a group of people. Gérard
Genette has this definition of the technique: “[…] the dedication,
[…] is the proclamation (sincere or not) of a relationship (of one
kind or another) between the author and some person, group, or
entity.” 11
In A Dry, the reader meets an “anonymous” dedication, as it
relates to a person unknown to him. It reads like this: “For Alta
who sustained me in the dry white season”. Certainly, the dedicatee
is close to the author because, through the comment “who
sustained me in the dry white season”, the reader can infer that
there is a relation of compassion 12 that tied the latter to the
dedicatee, Alta. Indeed, like the main figure in his novel, Brink
underwent the wrath of the police of apartheid. He avers in an
interview:
I’ve been under constant surveillance: all my mail
is opened, and my phone is tapped […] But I
have been called in for interrogation, I’ve had my
house searched, I’ve had notes and things seized.

11
12

Gérard Genette, Paratexts: Threshold of Interpretation, op.cit, p. 135.
.Although the dedication, in this case, is “elusive and indefinite about
the relationship, depending on the reader (and perhaps the dedicatee
himself) to pin it down.” (Genette, Paratexts).

44


So they certainly keep one aware of their
presence. 13
In this way, the small text that meets the reader in the hall of the
novel and which seems to have merely a decorative function, is,
actually, knotted semantically to the events unfolded by the story.
This connotative weight of the dedication is more accented in La
Guma’s The Fog. Here, the dedication “To the Memory of Bazil
February and others killed in action, Zimbabwe 1967”, is more than
a text posted and suggesting some vague relation with the author: it
works as a resounding way to expose, at the outset, the violent and
grotesque nature of a system which urges resistants like Isaacs or
Robert in A Dry or even Baby and Alia in Nadine Gordimer’s My
Son’s Story, to go abroad and train for military action. In this way, the
dedication foretells the relentless protesting actions of rebels in both
novels. And the reader can progressively step into the narrative and
construct its full meaning through the “lens of the paratext” and
discover that the sacrifice of February recalls that of Elias in The Fog
and Ben Du Toit in A Dry.
Therefore, resorting to such paratextual design in The Fog and A
Dry bears its relevance in the exposition of life under apartheid. It
heightens the aesthetic weight of the stories and functions as a
comment on the thematic line of both novels. By the relationship of
solidarity and compassion it conveys, the dedication gives the reader
another opportunity to appreciate, once more, the commitment of
Brink and La Guma to debunk the system.
As much as with the dedication, the prologue (or foreword) and
the epilogue are other accurate paratextual devices that hold clues of
the backlashes of racial discrimination in South Africa. These
elements of transtextuality are generally favoured by writers who, at
some point, feel the necessity to provide some reasons that have
triggered the act of writing. Brink and La Guma also use these
narrative techniques in their respective works in the view to
enhancing the relevance and urgency to use their pen to indict the
apparatus of coercion in their country.
13

André Brink in an interview with Jim Davidson, Overland, 94-5
(1984): 24-30.


45

The Fog is La Guma’s only novel that opens with a prologue. It
is an important and symbolical part of the story because it announces
the tensed and violent events that will be unfolded in the reading
process. Indeed, by exposing what can be regarded as an ideological
confrontation between the Mayor (an epitome of apartheid) and the
unnamed prisoner (whom the reader discovers later as Elias and
symbol of the resistance wing), the prologue betokens a pathetic and
thrilling story of domination and rebellion. The following exchange is
an expression of the stark opposition between oppressor and
oppressed:
‘I do not understand the ingratitude of your
people’ [...]. ‘Look what we, our Government,
have done for your people. We have given you
nice jobs, houses, education. [...] We have allowed
your people to get education, your own special
schools, but you are not satisfied. No, you want
more than what you get. (The Fog, 4)
This plea of the Mayor is rebuffed by the prisoner through this
averment:
You want me to cooperate. You have shot my
people when they have protested against unjust
treatment; you have torn people from their
homes, imprisoned them, not for stealing or
murder, but for not having your permission to
live. Our children live in rags and die of hunger.
And you want me to co-operate with you? It is
impossible. […] You are going torture me, may
be kill me. But that is the only way you and your
people can rule us. You shoot and kill and torture
because you cannot rule in any other way a
people who reject you. (The Fog, 5)
As it can be noted, “the prologue functions to state the two
ideologically divergent positions.” 14 This technique is all the more
14

Nahem Yousaf, Alex La Guma, Politics and Resistance, Portsmouth:
Heinemann, 2001, p. 93.

46


significant as the plot of The Fog is “illuminated by the theoretical
justification of violence as inevitable and even desirable.” 15 In A Dry,
Ben’s father-in-law too repeats, here, the same hackneyed view of
whites’s ‘generosity’ towards the Non-White groups in South Africa:
“Don’t you realise what the government is doing
for blacks? One of these days the whole bloody
lot of them will be free and independent in their
own countries. And then you have the nerve to
talk about injustice!” […] You give it another
good think, Ben […] We’ve got nothing to be
ashamed of before the eyes of the world, my
boy.” (A Dry, 212)
Likewise, the story in this novel opens with a foreword, a preface
in which the object of the book is disseminated; it is where the reader
learns that the story of Ben du Toit and his investigation on the
murder of Gordon and Jonathan Ngubene by the police is related by
a “he” narrative voice who is an old friend of Ben. A journalist, the
anonymous narrator explains in the foreword, that he is, somewhat
bound to collect and weave together the scattered threads of Ben’s
story into a coherent narrative, the ultimate aim of which is to
question “the well-established ethical and social values of the
Afrikaners community he belongs to.” 16 The prologue reveals that
Ben du Toit wanted to thwart the intention of Stolz and the other
police sleuths “to wipe every sign of [him], as if [he’d] never been
here.” (A Dry, 13) In fact, “throughout the apartheid years whole
territories of silence were created by the nature of power structures
that order the country and defined the limits of its articulated
experience. Some of these silences were deliberately imposed,
Balasubramanyan Chandramohan, A Study in Trans-ethnicity in Modern
South Africa: The Writings of Alex La Guma, 1925-1985, Lewiston:
Mellen Research University Press, 1992, p. 24.
16
Baydallaye Kane, “The Fragmented Story of a Dual Journey: Reading
The Present through the Past in Andre Brink’s An Instant in the Wind”,
Langues et Litteratures GELL, Saint Louis: Presses Universitaires de
Saint Louis, janvier 2009, n°13.
15


47

whether by decree or by the operation of censorship and the security
police.” 17 Faced with all the intimidating and terror-based policies of
the regime, the “he” narrator has no choice but to become the voice
of his friend Ben, already silenced forever by the security police; his
death is summarily announced in a local newspaper and posted right
on the first page of the foreword: “Johannesburg teacher killed in
accident, knocked down by hit-and-run driver. Mr Ben du Toit (53)
at about 11 o’clock last night, on his way to post a letter, etc.
Survived by his wife, Susan, two daughters and a young son” (A Dry,
9) In this wise, what drives the most the narrator to arrange Ben’s
notes into a story is drafted in the epilogue, another crucial
paratextual element that accents the meaning already suggested in the
prologue: “to report what I know. So that it will not be possible for
any man ever to say again: I knew nothing about it” (A Dry, 316). His
account works as a reveille that is meant to wake the awareness of
the Afrikaner community.
Everything considered, these textual threads - titles, chapter titles,
prefaces, caption, notes, dedications, epigraphs, etc. - that Genette
takes as “peritext” are the narrative techniques that tie the strands of
the two authors’ narratives together, and they have a major effect on
the interpretation of the commitment of La Guma “to restore reason
to an errant humanity” 18 and that of Brink to question the wellestablished ideology of racism and change the mindset of the white
community in South Africa. This engagement of both writers to
make their narrative a source of hope for better forms of life, is
strongly felt through the parallel and sometimes different images they
draw of the smutty world of the ghetto but also of the gamut of aweinspiring policies meant to ensure the hegemony of the regime.

17

André Brink, “Reinventing a Continent (Revisiting History in the
Literature of the New South Africa: A Personal Testimony)”, World
Literature Today, (www.jstor.org/stable/40151846).

18

Samuel Omo Asein, “The Revolutionary Vision in Alex La Guma’s
Novels”, Phylon, (http://www.jstor.org/stable/274434), Accessed:
18/10/2008.

48


2. Snippets of Intertextuality.
Roland Barthes asserts that “all in a text has already been written” 19,
to suggest that there is a kind of tacit or unsaid relationships between
former and recent texts or texts of the same generation. Barthes
further posits that texts (as signs) do not “originate from [their
authors’] own unique consciousness but from their place within
linguistic cultural systems.” 20 In other words, the literary productions
of writers like André Brink and Alex La Guma are cast in some
socio-political background, “a larger cultural and social textuality
[that of apartheid] out of which they are constructed.” 21 In this way,
A Dry and The Fog echo the South African society’s “dialogic conflict
over the meanings of words.” 22 The two novels bear intertextual
interconnectedness and their “language inevitably contains common
[and divergent] points of reference” 23 in the multifaceted
representation they make of the “invisible ubiquitous power” of
apartheid (A Dry, 237), of the humdrum and violent world of the
ghetto, and, above all, of police brutality over non-white
communities.
A major theme in Brink’s and La Guma’s writing is the
description of the dramatic and corrosive transformation of their
country by the implementation of racist policies, the many-sided
impacts of which are exposed under different narrative perspectives.
In A Dry, by progressively unwrapping the insidious activities of
the clique in power, Ben du Toit, notwithstanding the opposition of
his family and class, and regardless of the police’s mischievous
actions, discovers the conditions of the assassination of Gordon and
19

Roland Barthes, quoted by Graham Allen, Intertextuality, London:
Routledge, 2000.

20

Ibid.

21

Ibid., p. 36.

22

Mikhaïl Bakhtin, The Dialogic Imagination, Austin: Texas University
press, 1981, p. 36.

23

Ross Murfin & Supryia M. Ray, The Bedford Glossary of Critical and
Literary Terms, Boston: Bedford Books, 1998, p. 176.


49

Jonathan. In the same vein, he meets the real face of the political
system which runs his country, the brutality of its agents motivated
and sustained by the unjust and biased views they had hitherto of the
‘other’. In the following lines, Ben muses over the implications of
this dialectics of “the self” and “the other” in the colonial context:
“My people”. And then there the “others”. The
Jewish shopkeeper; the English chemist; […] And
the Blacks. The boys who tended the sheep with
me, and yet were different. We lived in a house,
they in mud huts with rocks on the roof. […] But
it remains a matter of “us” and “them”. […] But
suddenly it is no longer adequate, it no longer
works. [...] I stood on my knees beside the coffin
of a friend. I spoke to a woman morning in a
kitchen. […] And that mourning had been caused
by “my people.” […] What had happened before
that drought has never been particularly vivid or
significant to me: that was where I first discover
myself and the world. And it seems to me I’m
finding myself on the edge of yet another dry
white season, perhaps worse that the one I knew
as a child. What now? (A Dry, 163)
This journey of the protagonist into “the other” and back to “the
self” (which will be illustrated later) allows him to reconsider his own
“self”. In this quotation, we have an “I” narration mode, through
which Ben exposes the realities of cultural/racial differences. Let us
specify that the narrative design of A Dry is made up of a patching of
official documents (statement of the witnesses at the inquest into
Gordon’s death), the account of events and of Ben’s personal notes,
which obscures the presence of the author. This frequent shift in the
narrative voice is an effective way to expose the turmoil of Brink’s
protagonist caused by police harassment.
In the extract from the story, the “he” narrator lets the floor to
Ben who engages in a deriding judgement of his community’s action
towards blacks and the country, in the framework of apartheid. From
the outset, the protagonist accents the strife that set racial groups
apart: “My people” and “the “other.” The denigration and the

50


rejection of blacks (the “other”) is further implied in the short
nominal sentence, “And the Blacks.” The sharp and striking aspect
of this sentence serves as a strong way to suggest the racial strife that
exists between whites and other groups and the dramatic plight of
the latter that are at the receiving end of racism. In this way, along
with Ben, the reader can feel, through the lexical and structural shape
of the passage, that blacks are the most oppressed and trodden down
part of the community, an exploitation that is not only based on race
but is “actually shaped by perceptions of religious, linguistic, national,
sexual and class differences.” 24 Blacks or “the boys” have been
tightly bound by a racist system which demands that they always be
the lackeys of whites. Such a situation fortifies and reveals the true
nature of the apartheid power structure. The death of “his friend”
stirs the awareness of the character who realizes that his “own
people” are the root cause of a “dry white season” which is daily
smothering the “other”. In fact, the technique of mise en abyme 25 is
highly relevant in the passage because it further highlights the
seriousness of the plight of South Africans but also it shows that the
country itself was weighing down under such a corrosive and foggy
atmosphere.
Likewise, Alex La Guma is highly preoccupied by unveiling the
perilous policies set up by the political machine. In a descriptive style,
his narrators, in all his novels, have a religious patience in detailing
the social trauma bred by racial discrimination. Like And A Threefold
Cord, or even The Stone Country, The Fog combines irony and satire to
debunk apartheid. In the following passage, we have a narrative
voice, somewhat close to the author, who doesn’t hesitate to deride
the sham domination of whites over blacks. It reads:
When African people turn sixteen they are born
again or, even worse, they are accepted into the
Ania Loomba, Colonialism/Postcolonialism, New York: Routledge,
1998, p. 122
25
It is a narrative technique that designates the embedding of a text into
another. In the quotation, the device consists in repeating the title of
the novel into a part of the story, which is another way of highlighting
the horrendous policies of apartheid.
24

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