Out of Africa: The Dilemmas of Afrocentricity

Abstract

Imposed in bold print over the cover of the September 22, 1991 issue of Newsweek was the question: Was Cleopatra Black? In the background was picture of an elaborate Egyptian Glyph bedecked in 1990s style Afrocentric garb. The issue at hand was far more complex than the ethnicity of monarchs in antiquity. At the heart of the question was the issue of Afrocentrism and the debate over its facts or fantasies. At its best, Afrocentrism is an attempt to redefine ourselves as subjects rather than objects of history; to view the world from perspective that is grounded in Blackness. At its worst, it is an eclectic blend of fact, fiction, and pop metaphysics. From the stoic halls of academia to the lyrical polemics of hip-hop funk-orishas such as X-Clan, Afrocentrism has quickly proven to be one of the dominant isms of the 90s. The movement transformed legions of committed b-boys to beaded, braided urban oracles. The central theme is to be in step with sometimes nebulous concept of Blackness. On one level, Afrocentrism could more accurately be termed Egypt-centrism; on another, it incorporates cut-and-paste soundbites of numerous African cultures into hyperblack mosaic of ideas, rites, and practices. Among Afrocentricity's countless forebearers, it is most directly related to Karenga's Kawaida theory. In some ways Molefi Asante, who is credited with coining the term, provided an updated Kawaida remix for the hip-hop generation and beyond. The noble alms of Afrocentrism include reconstruction of vital values, institutions, and history to end our cultural amnesia and collective identity crisis. One of the most fundamental elements of the well-being of group is the ability to define itself. As long as one was identified as an African, she or he could never be made into spook, coon, or any other fanciful creation of warped white minds. By this matter, the destruction of Black Civilization (or at least our recollection of it) was dire necessity for the southern slavocracy. As many have noted, we grew to view ourselves through the eyes of those who hated us. The theft of our names, languages, gods, etc. left us culturally schizoid, haunted by what Du Bois eloquently termed the double consciousness. In 1897 he defined it as: 'this sense of measuring one's soul by the tape of world that looks on in amused contempt and pity. One ever feels his two-ness - an American, Negro, two souls, two thoughts, two unreconciled strivings; two warning in one dark body whose dogged strength alone keeps it from being torn asunder.'(1) It is precisely this schism which creates the need for cultural base such as Afrocentrism. In this context the African and American represent two juxtaposed identities struggling for control of the collective psyche of the black community. They are two warring ideals refereed by hyphen. Just as some blacks fled from the stigma of Africanity and plunged wholeheartedly into an acceptance fantasy of Americanism, many Afrocentrics constructed alternate identities as descendants of feudal African monarchs. While this quest for self-identification is laudable, it can veer into type of blacker-than-thou orthodoxy. But even with its flaws, Afrocentrism is more than a way to rediscover lost cultural identity - or invent one that never quite existed, as Henry Louis Gates dismissed it.(2) There exists within the movement substantial amount of critical pedagogy as well as chauvinist demagoguery. Nonetheless, the movement, like its ideological cousin, multiculturalism, remains critical of the hegemony of Western culture. In his iconoclastic poem I am, Amiri Baraka challenges the notion of western cultural supremacy. In his trademark acidic polemics Baraka notes: If you leave Greece headed west/you arrive in Newark. The poem goes on to pay proper disrespect to Greeks who Vanilla Iced the accomplishments of Egypt, and to list millenia-long rap sheet of transgressions of the west from murder of Spartacus to the colonization of Africa and extermination of Native Americans. …