THE bitter war in Biafra is a symbol of the continent’s
divided soul, and the most discouraging example so far of a profound
impasse that is crippling many of Black Africa’s 30 newly independent
states. It is an impasse between tribe and nation, which is also a
clash between tradition and change, fact and aspiration. On one side is tribalism: the tenacious loyalty of 140 million Africans
to primitive subgroups that represent certainty amid bewildering social
and economic upheavals. On the other side is nationalism: the heady
hope of creating modern states that will lead to African affluence and
power. Until African leaders unify divisive tribes and build strong
economies, the dream cannot be attained. Over most of Africa, false
expectations of instant progress have incited unrest and power drives
by rival tribes. Exploited by ambitious politicians, tribalism has
become the chief complication of almost every major African conflict. Shock Absorber But tribalism is not only the black man’s burden; it is also the ground
of his being, and therein lies its strength. Nearly every Black
African, even the most elegant minister in Savile Row suits, with a
Mercedes in his garage, is a member of one of the continent’s 6,000
tribes. However cosmopolitan he may be, he still derives his primary
identity from his tribe, together with a loyalty toward his fellow
tribesmen that is as fierce as is his utter disregard for any outsider.
Makonde tribesmen still slit their cheeks to identify themselves to the
world, but it is unnecessary surgery. So inseparable are the images of
a man and his tribe in Africa that it is as if he carried an invisible
mark on his skin. Tribal lines, not national boundaries, make up the true map of Black
Africa. The Congo’s latent disorder stems more than anything else from
its stubborn attempt to throw a skein of nationhood over no fewer than
200 tribes. Even tiny Dahomey numbers more than a dozen tribes within
its borders. Worse for national unity, tribalism is growing almost
everywhere as a cushion against the shocks of transition into the 20th
century. In Africa’s multiplying ghettos, tribal “unions” or
associations flourish as a kind of foreign embassy in the city for
dazed tribesmen from the country. When things go wrong, the tribe
itself remains, as Robert Frost said about home, the one place where,
“when you have to go there, they have to take you in.” Says Ivory Coast President Felix Houphouet-Boieny: “Tribalism is the
scourge of Africa.” Unless tribalism goes, adds Kenya’s Minister of
Economic Planning Tom Mboya, “much of what we have achieved could be
lost overnight.” Yet no African leader would stamp out tribalism
overnight, even if he could. For safety’s sake, the leaders themselves
pack their governments with fellow tribesmen. Houphouet-Boigny keeps
Baule kinsmen in key posts. In his heyday, Ghana’s deposed Kwame
Nkrumah heavily favored aides from his Nzima tribe. Mboya, for all his
brilliance, may never reach top power in Kenya because he belongs not
to the dominant Kikuyu, but to the Luo. So it goes: the central fact of
Africa is that no leader can ignore the tribal grouping of peoples
linked by common ancestors, speech and customs.
