Africa.
In this first video, I don’t care if you see any of the 22 minutes of it, except for the first 54 seconds, in which the President of Congo tells the President of France to go fuck himself and the neo-colonial shit-horse he and his great-grandfather so arrogantly rode in on.
Later, both guys from the Duran give a much fuller explanation of what is happening, not just in Congo, but across most of the ‘dark’ continent. It boils down to this. France, in this case, the very top guy, thought it would be a great idea to head down and shore up some old ‘friendships’, in the interests of getting more than just the lily-white world on board with sanctions against Russia, and on board with sending money and weapons to Ukraine.
‘Help us hate on Putin’.
He was chased out of country after country with his tail between his legs and slunk back home after multiple humiliations, out of his mind with rage at those uppity jungle people.
II.
A long time ago, the novelist John Updike wrote a novel called The Coup, and I read it.
I don’t remember much, and I think I’d like to read it again, because Updike really knew the score about colonialism, particularly in an African context.
One vivid scene is etched in my brain.
A group of angry tribals chase a well-meaning US-AID missionary until his only route of escape is to ascend a huge pyramid of aid boxes piled up, and crawl to the very top of it.
The villagers then set fire to the charity stack and thus eventually to the short-sleeved Mr. Non-Governmental Organization himself.
The 20-year-old me, reading this, was vaguely horrified and clueless about what it meant or why they’d do it.
Forty years later, I totally get it.
III.
Listen, please.
It’s not just about a few black leaders dissing a French guy over the Russia thing.
It’s not just about understanding how even fifty years ago, American “relief aid” might be viewed legitimately as a trojan horse of influence peddling or an Empire trying to buy favor and behind-the-scenes power for what amounts to twenty-four dollars worth of beads.
I was talking about China as I recall.
In this short video, a German Ambassador is granted an audience with the President of Namibia, and starts the conversation by chirping indignantly about how there are four times as many Chinese as Germans living in his country.
I don’t know why this factoid bothers the German, but it does.
President Geingob, a big black bear of a man, listens with politeness, and then interrupts, smiles, laughs, and gently smacks a bitch down.
“You are soooo sorry for us,” he tells the diplomat. “The Chinese don’t treat us like that.
We will handle our own country, k?
Every time a Westerner comes down here, it’s about the Chinese! (Side note: two weeks before this, Jill Biden was there)
What is your problem?
I am not your puppet.”
Those are all real quote fragments. Paraphrased, he continues by saying that the Chinese offer real friendship with both respect, and humility. And that moreover, the ungrateful Americans were bailed out of their last financial crisis by Chinese money … and as for the you, the Namibian people were once at war with the German people, and who do you think started that one?
Poor little Hans shuts his trap and keeps it shut. Which was smart, because …
What can you say, when someone you and your father’s father always viewed as a savage spits the stone cold unpleasant colonial truth to your face?
The President concludes by saying the Chinese are not his enemy, and he’s not going to change a damn thing about the way he governs just to please some irrelevant German imperialists.
End of interview.
***
You and I were raised all our lives to think we’re so blessed and rich because we’re so much smarter and better.
It’s a vain, evil fucking lie that turns our souls to satan’s own shit.
We’re blessed and rich because we’re really good at exploiting other people and feeling great about it.
We were raised in a world where Asians were slants and chinks and Vietnamese gooks.
I don’t have to tell you what we all called black people, or how we felt about racial superiority and inferiority and who was on top, and who deserved good things, and who we didn’t want for neighbors.
Oh we loved that Michael Jackson, because he “wasn’t really black”, or a faggot, or a dyke. Pedo? Oh whatever.
After 9-11, Arabs were sand niggers in all but the most diplomatic of liberal circles, where they didn’t feel any differently than the people who used that kind of language–but just didn’t want to sound icky about it.
We listened to Trump talk about Shithole Countries and we all clucked about the sound of the words. In our hearts, we felt exactly the same. Thank capitalist jesus for flinging us down in Rapid City or Sausalito, instead of Mogadishu, yeah?
(Your jesus had nothing to do with it, son; don’t you pin that shit on our Lord, nor Lady Luck neither.)
When Barack Obama got elected, that was the day racism ended, and all the Americans got so Woke. Isn’t that how it happened? Well listen. You want to talk about not really black.
The man was a stone cold imperialist who was the first to stuff Mexican kids in cages, kill an American citizen overseas for what his father the mullah said in a sermon, and use illegal white phosphorous bombs on the people of Fallujah. He now spends his days windsurfing with Richard Branson off Martha’s Vineyard, or pulling the strings to ratfuck the Sanders campaign. What a hero.
The good life. The American dream. The global network of military bases, covert operations to screw with anyone’s government anywhere at any time, and Orwellian surveillance that flies in the face of the even vaguely constitutional.
“But Russia tried to rig our elections!”
“But the bad Chinas don’t want us to invade their own island!”
Spare me the idiot pouting and the stampy feet, children.
And if you can’t do that much for me, please, please stop gorging yourself on, and recycling as your own free thinking, the lies of the millionaire House Negroes spilling out of your flatscreen–for the sake of your own humanity alone.
Or don’t. Either way, you’re gonna have plenty of real problems to worry about, before you know what slapped you up the side of your poor head.