Today we present an article by Professor Cherif Keita who demonstrates the intersections between religion and politics in Africa by discussing John Langalibalele Dube as a path breaking figure. This piece adds to previous work by Dr Duma Ndlovu we posted in the past that offers a look into the visions and contributions of Dube.
by Professor Cherif Keita
In most traditions in black Africa, a first name, given at birth, is either a call and wish for a positive destiny for the person-to-be or to conjure away frightening prospects in the life of the newborn. A case in point: a certain John Langalibalele Dube, the future co-founder and first President of the African National Congress of South Africa, was given the name, “the sun is red hot”, not only in memory of a 19th century Zulu chief martyrized by the British, Chief Langalibalele, but also and above all, as a wish that one day he would lead his people into a more glorious era of their history, away from the despondency of their collective defeat in the hands of European Colonialism. After all, was that not his grandmother Dalitha’s goal, when she decided several decades earlier, to be the first AmaQadi convert of the American missionary, Reverend Daniel Lindley, at the Inanda Mission Station? Thus, John Dube, just like his father James before him, were sent to white people’s school with a mission similar to the one so eloquently described in the famous West African novel, Ambiguous Adventure, by Cheikh Hamidou Kane: “to discover the secret of how the whites can win without necessarily being in the right.” An article titled “Reverend Wilcox’s Zulu Boy”, in the Cleveland Plain Dealer, of October 22nd, 1887, proves how earnestly 17-year old John Dube took this mission, from the very first days he landed in Ohio in the heart of America, hoping to gain an education he was denied in colonial South Africa.
The article describes the exchange between an inquisitive white judge and a young black man who had appeared unexpectedly in his courtroom, in a small Ohio town:
“At the close of court yesterday, Judge Noble’s attention was directed to a young man of dark skin who had been seated quietly in the court room and it was in vain that he strained his mind to take in the force of the arguments, although not a movement or word escaped his notice. On questioning him, the judge learned that the object of his inquiry is a native of Natal, South Africa, and belongs to a Zulu family of high rank. ……..[and that] when the missionaries visited Natal, they succeeded in converting his father and changed his name to James Dube. James named his boy John, which name, John Dube, the son now bears. His grandfather was a noted Zulu chief.”
This surprising moment of encounter, immortalized in the American press, conveys through two significant characters, a celebrated American judge of his time and a future African intellectual and political leader, a few important lessons about the shared history of 19th century United States and South Africa. The first question one may ask, and this certainly explains the white judge’s curiosity about this black boy, is the following: what could possibly bring a black person into a courtroom in those days? The most logical answer would be that he or one of his relatives is being tried for some “crime”. Given that the scene takes place barely two decades after the devastation of the Civil War and the Emancipation Proclamation, there is a lot of effort underway by white society to thwart the newly gained freedom of the former black African slaves. And the white-controlled judicial apparatus was a primary tool for achieving such a result. This was a familiar reality that would keep away from a courtroom any reasonable African-American person in those days. Therefore, in his mind, Judge Noble suspected that this young black man sitting in his court did not fit the mold; hence his desire to know who was this young man and the motives of his surprising presence in his courtroom. John is described as being “about 5 feet 8 inches tall and very muscular, with high cheekbones, dark skin, very bright eyes and an expressive countenance indicating an intelligent and inquiring mind.” He is also said to be “full of humor” and showing a set of very white teeth whenever he smiled. Judge Noble learns also this:
“He began going to a school established by a missionary, learned enough to make him yearn for better opportunities and advantages and he resolved to go where he could get a good education and then go back to teach his ignorant people. …. he came here about two months ago with Mr. W.C. Wilcox, a missionary sent to South Africa by the American Board of Foreign Missions.”
The second question one should ask is this: what would lead a young Zulu boy from Inanda (Natal Colony), who barely spoke English, to enter the most austere-looking building in any American town of that day, the Court House and the courtroom? One may reasonably surmise that the American Court House is where the young man believed, as a colonial subject, that he could get a glimpse of Justice in the new country he was eager to explore. In spite of his limited competence in English, he was mature and perceptive enough to know that back home this institution is the main underpinning of white control over his people, therefore, “one of those secrets of how whites win without being in the right.” Therefore, he was curious to see how a court proceeding worked in the United States and compare it to his native South Africa.
Above and beyond that, John Dube had another more practical reason for going into a courtroom: he was eager to learn and master the English language and what better place to hear the best models of his new language than the house where fiery verbal jousts took place daily? We get confirmation of this assertion when several decades later, John Dube said in his English-Zulu newspaper Ilanga Lase Natal that his American classmates used to mock his English when he first arrived at the Oberlin Preparatory School, where he spent five years completing his secondary education. The summer after John’s first year in school in Oberlin, he went to join Reverend Wilcox and the rest of his adoptive family in the small town of Keene Valley, in the Adirondacks mountains of New York. There, a decisive event occurs, that will define the future of his relation to the English language and turn him into the fiery political orator, the eloquent minister of the Church and the prolific writer and publisher he became a few years later. Wilcox, determined to put John at the forefront of his efforts to raise awareness among Americans about the plight of the Zulus under British colonialism, gave him an assignment: to prepare a personal speech based on the manuscript he (Wilcox) had been preparing on the topic of Self-help among the natives of South Africa. The speech that John wrote and delivered in front of a packed Keene Valley Congregational Church is said to have been such a hit that Wilcox arranged for many more speaking engagements for him that summer. Those lectures allowed him to earn enough money to pay more comfortably for his education at Oberlin. These speeches became also the basis of John’s first book published in the mid 1890s under the title, A Familiar Talk Upon My Native Land. Thus started John’s career as a pioneer spokesman for his people and his nation, a role he assumed brilliantly in the late 1890s with the help of his talented first wife, Nokutela Mdima Dube (1873-1917).
One can say that on that October day of 1887, a Zulu sun was rising in the heart of America and thank goodness, the press was there to record it for posterity.
Chérif Keïta teaches Francophone literature of Africa and the Caribbean, as well as advanced languages courses. A native of Mali, he has published books and articles on both social and literary problems in contemporary Africa. His special interests include the novel and social evolution in Mali, oral tradition, and the relationship between music, literature and culture in Africa. Professor Keïta also leads the Carleton Francophone Off-Campus Studies Program in Mali.