Voor de overige vier delen: http://www.youtube.com/user/jessicadikmoetnl/videos

‘De binnenlandse oorlog in Suriname was als oorlogsverslaggever een van mijn mooiste reizen. Het was een bijna zwart-wit verhouding. The good guy tegen de bad guy’, zei Arnold Karskens, doorgewinterd oorlogsjournalist, tijdens de presentatie van zijn boek Rebellen met een reden eind oktober 2009 tegen de Wereldomroep. In die Binnenlandse Oorlog (1986-1992) – zoals de strijd tussen Ronnie Brunswijk en voormalig bevelhebber van het Nationaal Leger Desi Bouterse genoemd wordt – was Bouterse in de ogen van Karskens the bad guy. ‘Want Desi Bouterse was natuurlijk verantwoordelijk voor veel doden in Suriname.’ De strijd van Brunswijk was wat Karskens betreft ‘een rechtmatige strijd tegen de dictatuur’ [i] En vóór terugkeer van de democratie. Niet iedereen zal het met Karskens eens zijn geweest. Sommigen – ook buiten de kring van Bouterse-getrouwen – menen dat de Binnenlandse Oorlog het democratiseringsproces dat kort daarvoor in gang was gezet, juist verstoorde![ii]

Met zijn uitspraak bevestigde Karskens het beeld dat er bestaat van partijdigheid van het Nederlandse journaille bij de Binnenlandse Oorlog.  Tijdens de gesprekken die ik voerde voor mijn boek Suriname na de Binnenlandse Oorlog kreeg ik het verwijt vaak te horen. Zo wilde ex-commandant Henk Roy Matui – Mato – wel praten over de reden waarom de Tucayana Amazones zich mengden in de strijd tussen Bouterse en Brunswijk, maar niet voordat hij zijn hart had gelucht. Hij vond: de Nederlandse media maakten Brunswijk ‘groter’ dan hij was (De Vries 2005:133).

Henk Herrenberg (1988:14, 27-28), voormalig minister van Buitenlandse Zaken en vertrouwenspersoon van Bouterse, beschuldigde Nederlandse media er zelfs van een ‘burgeroorlog’ te hebben gepropageerd. Door gewapende acties aan te moedigen zouden de media de ‘agressie-daden van de gewapende bende van de Redi Moesoe Ronnie Brunswijk’ gerechtvaardigd hebben. Volgens Herrenberg was het niet toevallig dat Brunswijk wel eens een rode baret droeg. Met Redi Musu (moderne spelling, letterlijk: roodmuts) verwees Herrenberg naar vrijgemaakte slaven, die in de achttiende en negentiende eeuw in opdracht van het Nederlandse gouvernement met rode hoofddeksels getooid, jacht maakten op gevluchte slaven die zich in het oerwoud hadden gevestigd en vandaar uit plantages overvielen. Redi Musu stond voor Herrenberg gelijk aan verrader.

Ook uit andere hoeken kwam commentaar. De Nederlandse onderzoekers Wim Hoogbergen en Dirk Kruijt (2005:272) stelden in De oorlog van de sergeanten. Surinaamse militairen in de politiek onverbloemd: ‘De Nederlandse pers is gedurende de hele oorlog extreem pro-Brunswijk geweest […].’ Ook de Surinaamse wetenschapper Marten Schalkwijk (1994:173) hekelde in Suriname. Het steentje in de Nederlandse schoen de vooringenomenheid van de Nederlandse pers. Journalist Nita Ramcharan (2008:189) wees in K’ranti! De Surinaamse pers 1774-2008 met de vinger naar Nieuwe Revu, die ze eenzijdigheid in de berichtgeving verweet.

Invloed en rol van media
Hoogbergen en Kruijt (2005:137) beweren dat de Binnenlandse Oorlog al snel een ‘mediaoorlog’ was geworden. Welke oorlog is dat niet?  Alle betrokken partijen willen dat de media hún visie op het conflict uitdragen. In werkelijkheid is de macht die media wordt toegedacht als het gaat om het beïnvloeden van beleid of de publieke opinie volgens mediaonderzoekers relatief. Jan Wieten (2002:23-24) meent dat media zeker niet in staat zijn in hun eentje besluiten op het gebied van buitenlands beleid of veiligheid om te buigen. Over de Vietnamoorlog – vaak aangehaald om de macht van de media te demonstreren[iii] – schrijft Wieten: ‘Pas toen er scheuren in de politieke consensus waren ontstaan, konden de media hierop inspelen.’ Als het gaat om de publieke opinie zijn media evenmin almachtig. Ze vormen een van de bronnen waaruit mensen putten om zich ergens een mening over te vormen. Ook opvattingen van vrienden, familieleden en collega’s spelen een rol. Bovendien worden meningen over maatschappelijke verschijnselen vaak al gevormd tijdens de opvoeding en op school. Ze zijn dikwijls moeilijk te veranderen (Leurdijk 1999: 3).

Journalisten informeren de samenleving, brengen nieuws en signaleren misstanden. Hoewel journalistieke principes als hoor- en wederhoor, onpartijdigheid, check en double check objectiviteit suggereren, is onvermijdelijk dat selectie van bronnen, vormgeving van informatie et cetera van invloed zijn op het gepresenteerde beeld. Media vertellen hoe zaken begrepen en geïnterpreteerd moeten worden. In de onderzoeksliteratuur worden die interpretatiekaders aangeduid met de term frames. Otto Scholten en andere onderzoekers definiëren frames als volgt: Frames zijn (vaak) niet geëxpliciteerde interpretatiekaders die vertellen welke waarden in het geding zijn. Met een enkel begrip, sleutelwoord of beeld wordt een reeks van betekenissen opgeroepen, worden good guys en bad guys onderscheiden, daders en slachtoffers aangeduid, historische analogieën geactiveerd, oorzaak en gevolg relaties gelegd en partijen verantwoordelijk gesteld voor (wan) daden (Scholten e.a. 2002:56).

Frames kunnen verwijzen naar de – in dit geval koloniale – geschiedenis, plaatsen informatie in een (historische) context en leggen causale verbanden. Wie is verantwoordelijk voor de conflicten en wie lost ze op? Nederland, Suriname, Bouterse, Brunswijk, het Surinaams verzet? Sommige interpretaties van ‘de’ werkelijkheid krijgen veel nadruk, andere worden onderbelicht of genegeerd. Zeker in conflictsituaties is het voor journalisten moeilijk hun werk te doen vanwege de ontoegankelijkheid van gebieden en het gebrek aan betrouwbare bronnen. Informanten willen vaak anoniem blijven uit angst voor represailles. Zoals Telegraaf-journalist Arnold Burlage het in een gesprek met mij uitdrukte: ‘Er zijn weinig feiten, maar veel geruchten.’[iv]

Niet alleen media framen, ook organisaties, sociale bewegingen of overheden reiken – vaak doelbewust – interpretaties aan in de hoop dat media het gepropageerde frame overnemen (Vasterman 2004:43). Vasterman (2004:44) stelt in zijn boek Mediahype dat media vooral als het gaat om onverwachte gebeurtenissen of nieuwe problemen waarvoor nog geen duidelijke frames beschikbaar zijn, grote invloed kunnen uitoefenen. Zeker als het gaat om een nieuwsgolf die tot stand komt direct na een onverwachte schokkende gebeurtenis. Of het nu gaat om publiciteitsacties of propaganda, voor alle media-effecten geldt volgens Denis McQuail:  Acceptance depends on the absence of alternative objective information, the inherent plausibility of the content in the light of information available and on the emotional and ideological climate of the time (McQuail 2000:447).

Of zoals Ramcharan het klimaat in Suriname begin jaren 80 typeerde: Ter illustratie van de ongeloofwaardigheid van het militaire regime, doet de grap de ronde dat als de nieuwspresentator op de tv goedenavond zegt, de mensen voor alle zekerheid naar buiten kijken, of het werkelijk avond is (Ramcharan 2008:188).

Omdat de invloed van media het grootst is als het gaat om framing van nieuwe fenomenen, ga ik terug naar het moment waarop Ronnie Brunswijk voor het eerst in het nieuws verschijnt. Gedrukte media speelden daarin een belangrijke rol. In dit artikel beperk ik mij tot de eerste berichtgeving over Brunswijk in enkele toonaangevende Nederlandse bladen.

Brunswijk

Wie was – is – Ronnie Brunswijk? Brunswijk, een Marron, werd in 1963 geboren in Moengotapoe, in het district Marowijne. Kort na de staatsgreep in 1980 trad Brunswijk vrijwillig in dienst van het Nationaal Leger, waar hij volgens Hoogbergen en Kruijt (2005:114) snel carrière maakte. In Ronnie Brunswijk. Dagboek van een verzetsstrijder roemt journalist Frans van der Beek (1987:23) zijn fysieke kwaliteiten. Bouterse stuurde hem naar Cuba voor een commando-opleiding en voegde hem als lijfwacht aan zijn veiligheidsdienst toe. In 1984 kreeg Brunswijk zijn congé. Waarom? Vanwege een loonconflict? Zelf zegt Brunswijk dat de militair Paul Bhagwandas hem samen met andere collega’s zomaar, zonder reden, ontsloeg. Toen hij uitriep: ‘Waarom, welke feiten hebben we gepleegd? Je kunt ons toch niet zomaar ontslaan. We hebben gezinnen!’, zou Bhagwandas hebben geantwoord: ‘Geen gelul, je bent ontslagen, dan ga je maar stelen’ (De Vries 2005:14-15).

Op oudejaarsdag 1984 verscheen op de voorpagina van de Ware Tijd het bericht ‘Verdachte van bankroof aangehouden’. Een man werd ervan verdacht het bijkantoor van de Surinaamse Bank (DSB) in Moengo te hebben beroofd van Sf 85.000.  De 24-jarige verdachte zwaaide 16 april van dit jaar af uit de dienstplicht. Een bekentenis was gisteren nog niet van hem verkregen. Politie, militairen en burgers hadden vrijdag de achtervolging ingezet. […]. Na enige tijd werden zeven plastic zakjes met muntgeld aangetroffen. In de holte van een omgevallen boom. Ook vond men een kinderborstrok met twee gaten, die kennelijk als het masker bij de overval is gebruikt. Het wapen waarmee de overval gepleegd is, en de grote buit zijn nog niet vonden.

Het bleek om Brunswijk te gaan. Hij werd opgesloten, maar zag kans uit Fort Zeelandia te ontsnappen. Op 26 januari 1985 plaatste de Ware Tijd namens de Militaire Politie (MP) en de procureur-generaal een opsporingsbericht. Op 11 juli 1985 verscheen er weer een opsporingsbericht in hetzelfde ochtendblad: Brunswijk zou zich opnieuw schuldig hebben gemaakt aan diefstal met geweldpleging en werd ‘levensgevaarlijk’ geacht. Het bericht was ondertekend door inspecteur van politie Chandrikapersad Santokhi.

Het bleef een tijdje stil, totdat de Ware Tijd op 26 april 1986 melding maakte van een overval op een bank in Tamanredjo. Brunswijk werd verdacht. ‘Brunswijk Ronny voornoemd, is zwaar bewapend met vermoedelijk automatische wapens en wordt derhalve levensgevaarlijk geacht’, waarschuwde de krant.[v] De strafbare feiten waaraan Brunswijk zich schuldig had gemaakt, waarbij sprake zou zijn van ‘grove vormen van agressie’, werden opgesomd: de genoemde bankoverval te Tamanredjo, te Moengo, een roofoverval te Patamacca, beroving van diverse gouddelvers in het binnenland en brandstichting.

Het avondblad De West plaatste op 24 april een opsporingsbericht en op 26 april 1986 nog een, met als kop ‘Verdachte Brunswijk: Gevaarlijk en gewapend’. Op 30 april 1986 stond er op de voorpagina een uitgebreider artikel: ‘Brunswijk de schrik van Moengo Tapoe’. Brunswijk en zijn metgezellen zouden volgens de krant hun agressie ontladen ‘op weerloze mensen uit wie soms informatie werd geslagen’. Het artikel besloot met te zeggen dat Brunswijk tot zijn ontslag uit militaire dienst geen misdadige aanleg toonde. Voor de ‘plotselinge uitbarsting’ konden de bij het onderzoek betrokken autoriteiten geen verklaring geven.

De meeste Nederlanders hadden tot mei 1986 waarschijnlijk nog nooit van Ronnie Brunswijk gehoord. Vlak na de opsporingsberichten in de Surinaamse pers – een groter contrast is nauwelijks denkbaar – kopte De Telegraaf op 1 mei: ‘”Robin Hood” voert met succes actie tegen Bouterse’. De intro luidde:  Een van de lijfwachten van dictator Desi Bouterse voert als een Robin Hood sinds kort acties tegen het bewind in Suriname. Soldaat 1^e klas Ronny Brunswijk, die al maanden geleden begon met bankovervallen en met het verdelen van de buit onder de arme bevolking, is nu de schrik van de machthebbers.

Het artikel vervolgde dat Brunswijk het vooral gemunt had op ‘geld en deviezen van militairen en overheid’. Brunswijks ‘bende’ zou over een grote hoeveelheid automatische vuurwapens beschikken; er zouden ten minste tien grote bank- en roofovervallen gepleegd zijn. Volgens De Telegraaf werden de ‘activiteiten’ van deze ‘Robin Hood’ door de bevolking van Suriname met ‘groeiende sympathie’ gevolgd. Steun en aanhang onder de ‘boslandbewoners’ lijken steeds groter te worden, schreef het ochtendblad en eindigde met de zinnen:  De ondercommandant van de Militaire Politie, Marcel Zeeuw, heeft de ex-lijfwacht, die voor een disciplinaire straf was opgesloten, als levensgevaarlijk bestempeld, maar de Robin Hood van Suriname heeft tot nu toe geen druppel bloed laten vloeien.

Het bericht was afkomstig van journalist Arnold Burlage, die op dat moment in Paramaribo verbleef. Vanaf circa 1974 schreef Burlage regelmatig over Suriname. Op 26 mei 1986 vervolgde De Telegraaf: ‘Surinamers steunen acties “Robin Hood”’. Burlage benadrukte andermaal dat Brunswijk ‘zonder geweld’ overvallen op overheidsinstellingen en banken pleegde en de buit verdeelde onder arme mensen. Ook meldde de krant dat de ex-lijfwacht aan een ‘razzia’ eerder die week was ontkomen. Daarbij hadden meer dan honderd ‘tot de tanden gewapende militairen’ het gebied rond Moengotapoe uitgekamd. Waar De West opmerkte dat autoriteiten in het duister tastten over Brunswijks motieven, had De Telegraaf er wel een voor handen: ‘strijd’ tegen ‘dictator’ Desi Bouterse.

Burlage reconstrueerde in gesprekken met mij hoe hij via zijn netwerken en informanten in Suriname hoorde van overvallen in de jungle op banken en militaire transporten.[vi]  Naar mijn idee waren het succesvolle overvallen. Brunswijk werd nooit geraakt en sloeg toe op het moment dat hij dat wilde. Hij was slimmer dan het leger en eigenlijk een soort underdog. Bouterse was geen lieverdje. Het ging ten koste van Bouterse. Brunswijk gaf terug wat van de bevolking was. Toen ben ik Brunswijk op een gegeven moment Robin Hood gaan noemen. Burlage meende dat Brunswijk razend populair was, ‘behalve in het kringetje rond Bouterse.’ Dat de kranten minder positief over Brunswijk rapporteerden kwam naar zijn idee doordat ze onder controle van Bouterse stonden. Dat klopt niet helemaal. Er was geen censuur meer. Media waren wel gehouden aan een perscode. Zelfcensuur speelde een grote rol, maar toch hadden media op dat moment een zekere mate van vrijheid.[vii]

Volgens een artikel in de Volkskrant van 15 februari 1995 was Brunswijk al in 1986 bij verstek veroordeeld tot vijf jaar onvoorwaardelijke gevangenisstraf en in 1995 opnieuw voor de bankroof die hij op 28 december 1984 pleegde. Het betrof de overval waarvan de Ware Tijd op 31 december 1984 melding had gemaakt. De rechter achtte de betrokkenheid van Brunswijk genoegzaam bewezen. Bij het inslaan van een ruitje had de gemaskerde overvaller zijn hand verwond. De op de deurpost gevonden handpalm- en vingerafdruk bleken van Brunswijk te zijn. Hij wist bovendien waar het geld verborgen was, naar eigen zeggen omdat hij het ‘iemand’ daar had zien neerleggen.[viii] Brunswijk ontkende in interviews de bankovervallen (De Vries 2005:15). Wel gaf hij ruiterlijk toe, dat hij militaire wagens overviel en de buitgemaakte goederen uitdeelde. Tegenover journalist Frans van der Beek zei hij:  De burgers werden op een vreselijke manier door de militairen gepest, uitgebuit en vernederd. Ik heb gezien dat mensen met een paar zakken rijst naar de rivier kwamen. Militairen sneden die zakken open en gooiden de rijst in de rivier. Wie daar iets van durfde te zeggen kon dat met de dood bekopen. Dit was wel het minste wat ik terug kon doen, al is dat maar een paar keer gebeurd. (Van der Beek 1987: 26-27).

Er was volgens de historicus Ben Scholtens (1994:122) sprake van verscherpte grenscontroles. Dat leidde tot irritaties. In hun zoektocht naar Brunswijk bruuskeerden militairen bovendien de bewoners van Moengotapoe. Er werden razzia’s uitgevoerd en vernielingen aangericht. Onder anderen Thomas Polimé en Bonno Thoden van Velzen (1988:16) bevestigen dat militairen in hun zoektocht naar Brunswijk enkele huizen in brand staken en dorpelingen mishandelden. Het verslechterde de verhouding tussen Marrons en stedelingen die toch al broos was.

Haakmat
Nieuwe Revu stuurde journalist Pieter Storms en fotograaf Gerard Wessel op pad om uit te zoeken wie Ronnie Brunswijk was. Voor hun vertrek staken beide heren hun licht op bij de Surinaamse ex-superminister André Haakmat, die naar Nederland was gevlucht en zich bij het Surinaams verzet – het Amsterdams Volksverzet – had aangesloten. Haakmat kende hem niet, maar was wel benieuwd wie die Ronnie Brunswijk was. Hij vroeg aan de journalisten om hem telefonisch met hem in contact te brengen, zodra ze hem hadden gesproken (Van der Beek 1987:35).  De grond in Suriname was Brunswijk inmiddels te heet onder de voeten geworden. Hij had de wijk genomen naar Frans-Guyana. Daar zocht Nieuwe Revu hem op. Volgens Van der Beek (1987:36) was Pieter Storms degene die in de namiddag van 4 juni in het Novotel in Cayenne het nummer draaide van Haakmat en de hoorn aan Ronnie Brunswijk gaf. In zijn memoires De revolutie uitgegleden. Politieke herinneringen beschrijft Haakmat hoe op 4 juni 1986 de telefoon ging.

– Met Ronnie.
– Ronnie wie?
– Ronnie Brunswijk. U kent me toch wel?
– Ik heb wel gehoord van een Brunswijk die ze in Suriname Robin Hood noemen, maar die houdt zich in het bos op. Daar is toch geen telefoon (Haakmat 1987:212)?

Haakmat (1987:213) had naar eigen zeggen precies een week daarvoor – dus op 28 mei – ‘een vakbondsman’ van de Moederbond op bezoek gehad. Op dat moment stond een nieuwe regering op het punt aan te treden in Suriname. De ‘oude’ politieke partijen die in 1980 waren weggejaagd, NPS, VHP en KTPI, keerden terug in de politieke arena. De vakbondsman zag daarin geen verbetering en meende: ‘Angst regeert overal.’ Op Haakmats vraag of hij dan geen enkel lichtpuntje zag, antwoordde hij:  Misschien Brunswijk. Hij tart ze en ze kunnen hem niet vangen. […] Het punt is: Brunswijk tart wel en haalt stunts uit, maar die jongen heeft geen benul van politiek. Geen enkel benul! Het enige is: hij durft (1987:213).

Hoe deze ontboezeming zich verhoudt tot het bericht dat in de Leeuwarder Courant van 27 mei 1986 verscheen is onduidelijk.[ix]  De krant schreef dat de Raad voor de Bevrijding van Suriname had verkondigd ‘de groep van de gedeserteerde sergeant Ronnie Brunswijk die sinds april een guerrilla-oorlog tegen het Bouterse-regime voert, met wapens en geld te zullen steunen’. Dat had de krant ‘gister’ – 26 mei 1986, de dag waarop De Telegraaf weer over Brunswijk had bericht – uit kringen van de Raad vernomen. Hoe dan ook. Brunswijk sprak met Haakmat af dat hij zou worden opgehaald in Parijs.

Nadat Brunswijk vertrokken was, besloten Storms en Wessel nog een aantal reportages te maken in Paramaribo. Brunswijk kwam als geroepen (Van der Beek 1987:35; Meel 1993:142-143). Het Amsterdams Volksverzet onder leiding van Haakmat, de Javaanse Pendawa Lima van Paul Somohardjo en de Raad voor de Bevrijding van Suriname van Glenn Tjon A Kiet zochten naar nieuwe mogelijkheden om Bouterse uit het machtscentrum te verdrijven. Veel fiducie in de nieuwe regering die zou aantreden was er – zoals Haakmat al aangaf – niet. Jules Sedney (2010:124), die deel uitmaakte van de verzetsgroep van Somohardjo, geloofde evenmin in ‘de ernst van de democratische speurtocht in Paramaribo’.

Haakmat (1987:216-217) – van huis uit jurist – wist dat Brunswijk werd afgeschilderd als een bandiet. Werd Brunswijk door Bouterse gecriminaliseerd? Na een ‘scherp verhoor’ was zijn conclusie dat Brunswijk van alle hem ten laste gelegde feiten kon worden vrijgesproken. Haakmat: ‘Brunswijk moest alleen nog van negatieve publiciteit gezuiverd worden, een taak die mij werd toebedeeld.’ Waarvan hij zich met verve kweet. Haakmat vertelt in zijn memoires dat hij geïnspireerd was geraakt door het proefschrift van Wim Hoogbergen over de Boni-Oorlogen. De strijd die Boni voerde tegen het koloniaal bewind speelde zich af in Oost-Suriname, het gebied waaruit Brunswijk – net als Boni een Marron – afkomstig was. Overeengekomen werd dat Brunswijk zou terugkeren naar Suriname en in de geest van Boni aanvallen zou uitvoeren op goedgekozen militaire doelen. Brunswijk zocht tijdens zijn verblijf in Nederland ook contact met de andere verzetsorganisaties waaronder die van Paul Somohardjo. Eigenlijk, zo suggereren Van der Beek (1987:37) en Hoogbergen en Kruijt (2005:120), kwam Brunswijk naar Nederland om er asiel aan te vragen. Daarvan zou hij hebben afgezien, omdat hij bang was uitgeleverd of geruild te worden tegen Pieter Storms en Gerard Wessel. De twee waren namelijk op 11 juni gearresteerd in Albina op verdenking van ‘spionage’. Ze werden opgesloten in Fort Zeelandia.

Dat was natuurlijk groot nieuws in Nederland. Op 13 juni kopte de Leeuwarder Courant: ‘Twee Nederlanders gearresteerd op verdenking spionage’ en verklaarde:  Het gaat om redacteuren van het weekblad Nieuwe Revu die contact zouden hebben gehad met Ronnie Brunswijk […] tegen wie al enkele weken een opsporingsbevel loopt. Brunswijk wordt beschuldigd van bankovervallen en roofovervallen. Hij is populair bij de plaatselijke bevolking die hem de Surinaamse Robin Hood noemt, omdat hij de buit deelt met zijn dorpsgenoten.[x]

Als de bevolking Brunswijk zo noemde, dan was de term overgenomen van Telegraaf-journalist Arnold Burlage, die deze had verzonnen. Uiteraard besteedde Nieuwe Revu ruime aandacht aan de arrestatie en gevangenneming van hun medewerkers. Hoofdredacteur Derk Sauer bevestigde dat de arrestatie van het tweetal vooral te maken had ‘met de activiteiten van Ronnie Brunswijk, een voormalig lijfwacht van Desi Bouterse, die zich met een privélegertje in het oostelijk deel van Suriname heeft teruggetrokken’. Nieuwe Revu herhaalde dat Brunswijk ook wel ‘de Surinaamse Robin Hood’ werd genoemd vanwege zijn ‘spectaculaire’ overvallen en claimde later dat zij de eerste was die over hem had bericht.[xi]

Inmiddels was men er in Suriname achtergekomen dat Brunswijk in Nederland verbleef. Op 23 juni meldde Telegraaf-verslaggever Arnold Burlage vanuit Paramaribo, dat de minister van Justitie S. Punwasi had gesteld dat Storms en Wessel Brunswijk een vals paspoort zouden hebben verstrekt. Die ontkenden dat in alle toonaarden. Ook zou het duo vooropgezette plannen hebben gehad om de ‘in het binnenland erg populaire Robin Hood het land uit te helpen’. De week daarop zaten de journalisten nog steeds vast. Nieuwe Revu-hoofdredacteur Derk Sauer constateerde dat de indruk bestond dat het regime Bouterse zich met deze arrestatie ‘wilde wreken op de Nederlandse pers, die herhaaldelijk kritisch had geschreven over de situatie in Suriname’.[xii] De Surinaamse regering had een bevel van de rechter tot vrijlating genegeerd.

Toen Storms en Wessel op 28 juni na zestien dagen cel ‘sterk vermagerd en met kaalgeschoren hoofden’ weer in Nederland arriveerden, trok dat volop de aandacht.[xiii] Een week vóórdat Brunswijk met zijn ‘Surinaams Nationaal Bevrijdingsleger’ – later omgedoopt tot Jungle Commando – in de nacht van 21 of 22 juli militairen posten overviel, verscheen in Nieuwe Revu nr. 29 eindelijk de reportage ‘over de Surinaamse ”Robin Hood”, dagenlange tochten door de jungle en magische oerwoudkrachten’. In het kielzog van Brunswijk waren Storms en Wessel vanuit Frans-Guyana illegaal de grens overgestoken naar Suriname om in Moengotapoe te zien en te horen van de inwoners wat de militairen daar hadden aangericht tijdens hun opsporingsactiviteiten. Brunswijk vertelde over zijn ‘cultuur’ die hem beschermde. Storms noteerde: Ronnie laat ijzeren banden zien die hij om zijn bovenarmen draagt. Iedere band heeft zijn aparte kracht. Een dikke band met krullen beschermt hem tegen kogels en messteken. Een dunne koperen band geeft hem kracht zodat hij nooit kan verdrinken. Een andere band geeft hem geluk en gezondheid. Hij praat er met eerbied over.

Het artikel eindigt met de vaststelling dat Brunswijk de machtshebbers in Suriname, net als Robin Hood de sheriff van Nottingham, steeds te vlug af was. Brunswijk was volgens Nieuwe Revu op 24-jarige leeftijd al een ‘legende, een mythe’ waar het volk in geloofde.[xiv]

Begin Binnenlanse Oorlog
Toen de militaire posten in de nacht van 21 op 22 juli 1986 werden overvallen – algemeen wordt die datum gezien als het begin van de Binnenlandse Oorlog – was aanvankelijk onduidelijk wie daarachter stak. Het NRC publiceerde – gebaseerd op een bericht van Associated Press (AP) – op 23 juli een vrij neutraal berichtje met als kop: ‘Aanval kazernes in Oost-Suriname’. Ook de Volkskrant van 23 juli plaatste een klein bericht. Het Parool – een avondblad – kwam met een uitgebreider artikel en meldde dat het al enkele maanden onrustig was in dit deel van Suriname, waar enkele bank- en roofovervallen waren gepleegd.

De autoriteiten verdenken Ronnie Brunswijk, een vroegere lijfwacht van legerleider Desi Bouterse van deze overvallen. Brunswijk heeft de beschuldigingen echter altijd ontkend. Hij heeft slechts toegegeven goederen en transporten uit Frans Guyana bestemd voor het Surinaamse leger, te hebben onderschept. De goederen heeft hij volgens eigen mededelingen ‘als een moderne Robin Hood’ verdeeld onder de veelal arme bevolking van Moengotapoe, een dorp niet ver van Albina, waar hij zich schuilhoudt.

In de periode vanaf 21 juli tot en met 31 juli gebeurde er veel. Nieuwsberichten volgden elkaar in snel tempo op. Niet alleen overviel Brunswijk – naar later bleek – de militaire posten in Stolkertsijver en Albina, Brunswijk gaf ook een communiqué uit waarin hij het Surinaams Nationaal Bevrijdingsleger proclameerde. Bovendien gijzelde hij twaalf militairen. Ten slotte werd een groep huurlingen die van plan was de macht in Suriname over te nemen in de VS gearresteerd. [xv] Over die zaken verschenen in vier grote kranten, De Telegraaf, de Volkskrant, het NRC en Het Parool (toen nog een landelijke krant) in die tien dagen ten minste 29 artikelen (niet alle edities van de kranten werden bekeken). Al deze kranten namen de beschrijving van Brunswijk als Robin Hood – al dan niet tussen aanhalingstekens – over.[xvi]

Ook een regionale krant als de Leeuwarder Courant deed dat (zie editie van 24 juli 1986). Omdat in het begin vooral werd geleund op het Algemeen Nederlands Persbureau (ANP), de Gemeenschappelijke Pers Dienst (GPD) en AP is het waarschijnlijk dat ook andere (regionale) kranten dergelijke berichten publiceerden. In de Volkskrant van 25 juli en 31 juli 1986 en in Het Parool van 25 juli 1986 en het NRC van 2 augustus werd Brunswijk bovendien vergeleken met Boni.[xvii]

Opvallend is dat Haakmat in Het Parool, de Volkskrant, het NRC en De Telegraaf in de genoemde 29 artikelen maar liefst negen keer als bron werd opgevoerd. Dat hij zo vaak aangehaald werd, had ongetwijfeld ook te maken met vragen over de relatie tussen het verzet en de in de VS opgepakte huurlingen. Het verzet en Brunswijk ontkenden daarmee iets van doen te hebben. Haakmat – en ook andere vertegenwoordigers van het Surinaamse verzet – namen de gelegenheid te baat om hún verhaal te vertellen. In het interview met de Volkskrant van 25 juli 1986 sprak Haakmat over de strijd van Boni en legde hij uit: ‘De tactiek van toen wordt nu herhaald door de Brunswijkguerrilla’s.’ In Het Parool van 30 juli vergeleek hij in een ingezonden brief Brunswijk wederom met Boni die streed tegen de blanke kolonisator.

Curieus is dat de rolverdeling krijgskundig nu zo is, dat het zich revolutionair noemend regiem Bouterse de positie inneemt van de koloniale huurlingenlegers in hun strijd tegen de marrons van Boni. Interessant is dat Herrenberg later – zoals we hierboven zagen – beweerde dat juist Brunswijk de huurling was. De figuren uit het koloniale verleden werden gebruikt als symbolen in de (media) strijd. Boni was de good guy, de vrijheidsstrijder; de ‘redi musu’ en ‘huurlingen’ waren de bad guys.

De aanduiding van Brunswijk als een Surinaamse, zwarte Robin Hood was in Nederlandse media in die eerste week na de overvallen op militaire posten in Oost-Suriname populairder dan de vergelijking met Boni. Vóór de overvallen op Stolkertsijver en Albina in de nacht van 21 op 22 juli waren Brunswijks acties al geïnterpreteerd als een ‘guerrillastrijd’. In de Leeuwarder Courant van 27 mei 1986 – die zich baseerde op GPD- en ANP-berichten – werd Brunswijk aangeduid als een ‘gedeserteerde’ sergeant die sinds april een guerrilla-oorlog tegen het Bouterse-regime voerde. Het was de Raad voor de Bevrijding van Suriname van wie de informatie klaarblijkelijk afkomstig was. Het is twijfelachtig of de acties van Brunswijk op dat moment als zodanig geïnterpreteerd moeten worden. Was er niet eerder sprake van een ‘wraakmotief’ en deed niet pas later een politiek motief, herstel van de democratie, zijn intrede (Volker 1998:166)? In het interview dat ik met hem had zei Brunswijk letterlijk, dat het Surinaams verzet hem vroeg de democratie te helpen herstellen. Edwin Marshall, die ook betrokken was bij het Surinaams verzet, bevestigde tegenover mij: ‘In 1985 begon Brunswijk hier en daar met overvalletjes; hij deelde geld uit. Er was toen nog geen sprake van een ideologische strijd (De Vries 2005:16, 20).’

Al te gemakkelijk namen media (in navolging van De Telegraaf en Nieuwe Revu) aan, dat Brunswijks streed tegen de ‘dictatuur’ of de gevestigde macht. De kranten stonden weinig kritisch tegenover de aanklachten die Brunswijk ten laste waren gelegd en schreven dat Brunswijk gestolen geld en goederen uitdeelde zonder iemand aan het woord te laten die dat kon bevestigen. De Volkskrant van 24 juli en Het Parool van 25 juli 1986 stelden dat Brunswijk destijds geschorst werd, omdat hij kritiek had op ‘de revolutie’ en de ‘verwording’ ervan afkeurde. Ook dat is dubieus. Daar stond tegenover dat Nieuwe Revu als eerste naar Moengotapoe toog om te kijken welke schade daar was aangericht. Artikelen daarover waren niet eerder verschenen.

Het is níet zo dat media Brunswijk blind geloofden. De Volkskrant van 29 juli 1986 belde inwoners van Moengo om te verifiëren hoe men daar over Brunswijk dacht. Brunswijk – zo bleek – werd gezien als een ‘misdadiger die wegens criminele activiteiten uit het leger is gezet en die zijn voormalige collega’s nu uit rancune bestrijdt.’ Men zag het militaire regime graag verdreven worden, maar dan wel door iemand anders. Romeo Hoost, woordvoerder van het Surinaams verzet in Nederland, ontkrachtte de beschuldigingen: ‘Brunswijk heeft geen bankovervallen gepleegd. Hij is een idealist die een einde wil maken aan de corruptie van de militaire machtskliek, een idealist die het voor het volk opneemt.’ In dezelfde krant werd de ‘oude’ politieke leider Lachmon geciteerd die namens het Topberaad zijn ernstige bezorgdheid uitsprak. ‘Wij hebben gekozen voor democratisering langs de weg van de dialoog en niet langs die van geweld.’

NRC-journalist Van Klaveren kaartte op 2 augustus 1986 in een achtergrondartikel aan dat Suriname zelden zo dicht bij herstel van de onontbeerlijke ontwikkelingshulp was geweest, nu de ‘oude’ politieke partijen in het machtscentrum waren teruggekeerd. Nederland stelde als eis voor hervatting van de hulp herstel van de democratie. De oude politieke partijen eisten vrije verkiezingen. Van Klaveren wees erop dat de acties van Brunswijk onderdeel vormden van de nieuwe strategie van het Surinaams verzet in Nederland ‘dat met de hulp van een boze bosneger een wig tussen beide landen heeft weten te drijven’.

Het beeld (frame) van Brunswijk als vrijheidsstrijder overheerste echter die eerste week de berichtgeving. Door Brunswijk te vergelijken met Boni, maar vooral met Robin Hood, werd dat imago versterkt. Nederlandse media kopieerden elkaar, zo lijkt het. Daarnaast – zou je kunnen zeggen – slaagde het Surinaams verzet in Nederland er goed in om het frame van Brunswijk als vrijheidsstrijder te propageren en te bevestigen.

Terechte kritiek?

Onmiskenbaar speelden Nederlandse media een rol in de making of Ronnie Brunswijk. De Telegraaf verzon de naam Robin Hood, Pieter Storms van Nieuwe Revu bracht het verzet in Nederland in contact met Brunswijk. Ruim voor de proclamatie van het Surinaams Nationaal Bevrijdingsleger merkte De Telegraaf op 10 juni 1986 op, dat Brunswijk nog ‘geen steun van de verzetsbeweging’ in Nederland had gekregen. En Nieuwe Revu (nr. 29, week 11 t/m 18 juli 1986) – wist die soms meer? – beweerde dat Brunswijk als hij terugkeerde naar Suriname in zijn eentje een grotere bedreiging voor de militairen in Paramaribo vormde dan ‘tien pelotons getrainde commando’s’. Het kan goed zijn dat media ingingen op suggesties van het Surinaams verzet, zoals eerder gedaan in de Leeuwarder Courant van 27 mei 1986, in plaats van, zoals Herrenberg beweerde, zelf een ‘burgeroorlog’ te propageren. Het is een nadere analyse waard.

Waarom het NRC, Het Parool, de Volkskrant en De Telegraaf die eerste week minder oor hadden voor bijvoorbeeld de visie van Lachmon is gissen. Interviews met journalisten en sleutelfiguren uit die periode zouden licht kunnen werpen op deze kwestie. Achteraf leek de scepsis van het Surinaams verzet terecht. In 1990 grepen militairen opnieuw de macht tijdens de zogenaamde telefooncoup. Maar doet dat iets af aan Lachmons opvatting een gewapende strijd af te keuren? Bij Karskens en Burlage – en wie weet ook bij andere journalisten – bestond als het om Suriname ging al een beeld, namelijk van Bouterse als bad guy die nog steeds aan de touwtjes trok. Bovendien wisten ze zich in hun persvrijheid beknot. Niet alleen Pieter Storms en Gerard Wessel, ook Telegraaf-journalist Guido van de Kreeke was al eens in de cel beland.[xviii]

Brunswijk was zich er al snel van bewust dat je voor een ‘moderne guerrilla’ niet alleen wapens, maar vooral ‘bezoekende journalisten’ nodig had.[xix] Hij slaagde er beter in dan Bouterse de Nederlandse pers voor zich te winnen. Ook de ‘mythische jungle’ zal ongetwijfeld tot de verbeelding van de Nederlandse journalisten hebben gesproken. Oorlog wordt in de media vaak gepresenteerd als een spannend verhaal, drama, de strijd tussen goed en kwaad (Wieten 2002:21). Brunswijk paste daar uitstekend in. Bovendien mag verondersteld worden dat Nederlandse media al voor Brunswijk op de proppen kwam, contacten hadden met het Surinaams verzet in Nederland. Volgens Schalkwijk (1994:173) zocht die groep ‘grif’ de media en had belang bij ‘gekleurde reportages’.

Frames zijn behoorlijk stabiel, maar niet onveranderbaar (Vasterman 2004:43). In het eerste nummer van 1987 plaatste Nieuwe Revu misschien voor het eerst (?) ook vraagtekens bij Brunswijks strijd. Er waren inmiddels doden gevallen. Ronnie werd omringd door ‘ex-politici’ die wel wisten wat goed was voor Ronnie, de ‘bosnegers’ en Suriname. ‘Mensen die de macht per se terug willen.’ Storms en Karskens hadden heimwee naar het begin van 1986, toen Ronnie nog geknipt leek voor de rol van ‘charmante hoofdpersoon voor een leuk en spannend jongensboek’: De Nederlandse pers heeft overwegend partij gekozen voor Ronnie, maar als het zo doorgaat krijg je zo’n hopeloze oorlog. Zonder good guys en bad guys. Niemand noemt Ronnie nog een kwajongen. Of Robin Hood.

Nieuwe gebeurtenissen of onverwachte ontwikkelingen kunnen leiden tot reframing (Vasterman 2004:43). Niet alleen bij journalisten maar ook bij actiegroepen of bewegingen. Zo bekende Romeo Hoost in Vrij Nederland van 16 juni 2010 naar aanleiding van het zojuist beklonken politieke bondgenootschap tussen Bouterse en Brunswijk: ‘Als ik zeg dat ik nooit een grotere opportunist dan Brunswijk ben tegengekomen, dan druk ik me voorzichtig uit.’

Verder onderzoek moet uitwijzen waarom bepaalde frames wel en andere niet doordrongen tot de media. Had dat behalve met al bestaande opvattingen over Suriname soms te maken met de tijdgeest, met de journalistieke cultuur in Nederland destijds? Het was de tijd dat Nederlandse journalisten ook naar Nicaragua en El Salvador trokken om daar de ‘vrijheidsstrijd’ te verslaan. Hoe ‘neutraal’ of geëngageerd waren bladen toen? Andere interessante kwestie is: wie had toegang tot welke bronnen en welke relaties bestonden er precies tussen Nederlandse journalisten en Surinaamse bronnen in Nederland én in Suriname. Wie gingen er schuil achter anonieme zegslieden die werden opgevoerd als ‘betrouwbare bron uit Paramaribo’?

A few years ago Catherine Coquery-Vidrovitch wrote about the results of the educational system in the Belgian Congo that “(This) in depth work concerning mentalities was started to be felt from 1945. [i] We have tried to approach the issue of the effects of the missionary education from two angles. On the one hand, on the basis of the written testimonies that can be found, from which it is apparent how the Congolese reacted, how they acted and what they thought about that education. Publications in which the opinion of the Congolese pupils and former pupils can be found were sought as contemporary sources. Concrete, extensive and detailed research was carried out into one of those publications, La Voix du Congolais. On the other hand, it is possible to make use of memories. These are preferably the memories of the people themselves. A number of interviews with the Congolese helped complement the very sparse literature available in this regard.

When considering this theme, the original boundaries of the research subject were slightly deviated from. The research subject was deviated from as regards the material, as the
interviews are situated both within but also partly outside the mission area of the MSC. The existing research results that were consulted and used also relate to areas outside the Tshuapa region. Moreover, the research subject was deviated from with regard to content due to the conclusion that research into the effects of education is inextricably connected to the “memory” of the colonial period. Consequently, it seemed interesting to us to take the memories of former pupils into account. That has the undeniable advantage that the image drawn may be confronted to a certain extent with the memories of the Congolese.

In the previous four chapters, written material was primarily collected that spoke about the events that took place in and around the school in the mission area of the MSC. The image created as a result is perhaps still not very clear but the outlines may be discerned. Naturally coloured by all the information I collected myself as a researcher and undoubtedly also coloured by the information I did not collect, I did not think it very useful to consider all that material again in a conclusive chapter and to attempt to distil a summarising image from that.
I will therefore restrict my conclusion to an indication of the image drawn and the formulation of a number of considerations regarding the way in which this past is handled and the role this research may hopefully play in it.

NOTE:
[i] Tshimanga, C. (2001). Jeunesse, formation et société au Congo/Kinshasa 1890-1960 . Paris: L’Harmattan. p. 5 (préface). [original quotation in French]

Effects on the colonists: initiation of an African science of education?
In 1957 Albert Gille, Director of Education at the Ministry for Colonies, wrote that the biggest problem of education at that time remained the lack of well-trained teachers. He claimed that the quality of the teaching staff remained low and that there would be no improvement over the next few years.[i] There was not much opportunity to climb the social ladder. There were very few signs that the educational principles had changed under the impulse of Buisserets policy, which indeed ‘broke open’ the educational system. In fact, education in the Congo then became ‘metropolised’,[ii] but the changes in the curriculum were not accompanied by a significantly different composition of the body of teachers. The impact of the changes was quantitatively too limited to be able to bring about a general change in the short term. Until after independence, education would still remain almost completely in the hands of the mission congregations.

The early Congolese universities did produce some scientific research on education, but this research did not break out of the familiar straightjacket either. At the University of Lovanium research results and opinions in the field of education were published in the Revue pédagogique, which has already been mentioned. At the Official University Paul Georis was particularly active in the area of educationalism, but the results of his investigations only appeared after independence.[iii] Georis was the head of a so-called “interracial” high school in Stanleyville for four years and studied the possibilities of developing educational theory adapted to African circumstances there. His colleagues did the same in Luluaburg and Lodja. The most important elements that came to the fore in the research on such new educational theories, which he published in 1962 (but had written before independence), were the community life of the Congolese, the uniqueness of Congolese culture and respect for foreign cultures. In addition, the importance of an improvement of the level of education was also emphasised. Georis also referred to the splitting of education into mass- and elite-education. That it was necessary to point out, even in this publication, which was written in rather ‘progressive’ milieus, that “the qualitative equality of the intelligence of the Black and the White can be proven” is telling of the zeitgeist. In that respect the author also argued for a uniformity and equivalence in the primary education system for all levels of the population.

However, there were a number of obstacles in the way of the development towards a balanced educational system. Besides the vast size of the country and – here too – the poor quality of the teaching body, Georis mentioned the Congolese attachment to their ancestral traditions and the influence of magic as primary elements. Generally speaking, he seemed to argue for blending the traditional African values with imported Western ideas, which naturally did not prevent him from arguing within a progressive or developmental paradigm. Despite all his good intentions, he regularly remained bogged down in the model of ‘civilisation versus primitivism’. The “black”, he concluded in his study, could free himself from his neuroses and his complexes. Apparently that was still necessary.

On the other hand, an 1958 editorial contribution in the Revue Pédagogique about the “programmes métropolitains” and the adaptation of education, stated that: “In the Congo, we have for a long time attempted clumsy and timid adaptations, which proved inoperative. Now we are turning away from this path and are increasingly adopting the metropolitan curricula from Belgium, following the example of France, which has applied the French curricula for a long time.” Consequently, at that time, there was some hard thinking going on in both university milieus concerning the direction of education. In both cases questions were being asked aloud about the manner in which things had been done in the past. It is not illogical that in university circles at that time more discerning and detailed analyses were being made. There was a great deal of political activism at that time: in 1956 the manifestos of Conscience Africaine and the ABAKO had already been published and in 1958 the MNC of Lumumba and Ileo was formed; local council elections were also organised in 1958. The predominant attitude, also applicable to the educationalists, was still very expectant, cautious and doubtful.[iv] Even the contribution mentioned above, after initially pleading pro métropolisation, stated that it was very unclear what the Africans really wanted. They longed for Western education, to be able to get Western diplomas, because that was the only way to be recognised as an equal. But at the same time they also wanted something else and the next step would then have to be recovering their own cultural identity. The periodical’s attitude was summed up well in the last sentence of the contribution: “These are the general and imprecise assertions that must nevertheless be taken into account.”

Effects on the colonised: the needle in the haystack
2.1. At a university level
If we want to judge the effects of education, we must necessarily search for the voices of the people involved and those are primarily the Congolese. In the case of the universities and the science of education itself, this voice did not ring out very loudly. The reasons for this are not hard to find: it was too late and there were too few of them. At the University of Lovanium the first seven Congolese students graduated in June 1955 from the first year of a bachelor in Educational Science. Of these only two graduated three years later in June 1958 with a master’s (these were two priests, Michel Karikunzura and Ildephonse Kamiya).[v] In Elisabethville, where the ‘Official’ University operated from 1956, a ‘School for Educational Sciences’ was set up from the beginning. During the academic year 1957-1958 five African students were enrolled in the first year of the bachelor’s degree at the school (there were a total of 17 African students enrolled at the University at that time). In Lovanium there were 110 African students, of which 18 studied educational sciences.[vi]

Congolese writing only seldom found its way into scientific publications published in the academic milieu. In 1957 a contribution by the Congolese Kimba, a journalist with the newspaper L’Essor du Congo, appeared in the Revue Pédagogique. He wrote about “What the Congolese expect from the teaching of French“.[vii] His contribution was only four pages long and was even then introduced with a few strong considerations from the editors. The introduction indicates that it was still very uncommon at that time for a Congolese to be able to vent his opinion in a scientific publication or make a contribution at all. It stated: “It is interesting to hear the opinion of a Congolese on the matter“. In his contribution Kimba briefly stated the reasons why the Congolese wanted to learn to speak French: it was the only way to create a “trait d’union” between all Congolese population groups, and to achieve a common language. Above all French was the only means that would help them to gain access to higher civilisation.

However, the article also contained a very subtle example of the manner in which colonial relations worked. The author summed up everyday situations from which it appeared that Congolese learning French was still not considered as an obvious matter. He stated that differences still existed in the manner in which the Congolese and the Europeans interpreted some situations. By way of illustration he gave the following example: “One expression has an odd interpretation with the Congolese: this is the common expression ‘Il n’y a personne?’ [tr.-Is anybody in?] which some Europeans use to ask after the person in charge. The Congolese translate this phrase literally and in this way the Europeans disregard their human nature by considering them beings that do not have the right to be called ‘personne = être humain’ [tr-a person or human being]. This is certainly an error of interpretation on the part of the Congolese. The sense the European gives to this phrase is different to that of the Congolese. We know that responsible jobs are still held by the Europeans, from which stems the frequent use of the expression ‘Il n’y a personne!’, i.e. ‘European’ in the current situation.” However, much the author tried to make this appear as a special or divergent meaning that had to be given to the cited words, the true meaning and scope of this anecdote are still clearly apparent here. It is difficult to decide whether this was very deep naivety or supreme irony, as the rest of the article does not display any critical attitude at all towards the colonists. Kimba did not give the impression of wanting to wake sleeping dogs. On the contrary his approach tried to be as conciliatory as possible.

The vast majority of the contributions published in the Revue Pédagogique were written by white people, of which the majority were members of religious congregations. In the last year the journal was published, two other contributions by Congolese authors appeared. A F. Lumpungu, teaching assistant, wrote a piece on the educational value of games.[viii] Antoine Kimponto, head teaching assistant, made a brief contribution on the influence the teaching assistant must exercise on the children in an urban environment. His article described the city as a place of ruination. The people had to live so close to each other in the Centres Extra Coutumiers that it seemed almost impossible to lead a hygienic and moral life. The teacher was then a man with a mission, and that mission was clearly an extension of the work of ‘real’ missionaries. He must work as a spiritual guide through the darkness and lead by example of his own lifestyle. That a number of teaching assistants did not correspond to that picture was also a true scandal. The opinion put forward in the contribution was overly-simplified and above all showed the religious workers in a good light. “Undoubtedly, teaching assistants know well that priests are also people with all their failings. But they also know that the priests have a divine mission to fulfil.”[ix] According to the author, cooperation with the parents and with the priest was one of the most important tasks of the teacher.

2.2. In the media
The content of these Congolese contributions was not especially shocking or innovative, and above all too modest to be able to exert any influence. A similar conclusion could have been drawn concerning the media that reached a broader public (i.e. the daily newspapers). Here again, it was precisely the voice of the Congolese which was seldom to be heard. Van Bol, who wrote a short book on the press in Congo in 1959, stated that it was certainly not originally intended to inform the Congolese, let alone to educate them. On the other hand it cannot be denied that the creation of a Congolese voice in the colonial press must be considered one of the effects of education. Also according to Van Bol several of these newspapers decided to make space available for reactions from the Congolese themselves after the War. All in all it was not a great success: only the largest newspapers did so effectively. Le Courrier d’Afrique, despite being the press organ of the church and the missions in the Congo, had launched a supplement ‘by and for the Congolese’, which would become a separate publication from 1957 (Présence Congolaise, a name derived from Présence Africaine). L’Avenir, from Leopoldville had also recruited a number of Congolese editors by the early 1950s.[x] Kimba was the only Congolese editor at that time at the Essor du Congo. It was not until the end of the 1950s that there was any sign of publications completely in the hands of Congolese editorial staff. The only exception, which can be mentioned, is the publication of La Voix du Congolais.

As late as 1959 the following opinions could be read in a scientific contribution on Congolese literature and authors. The fact that the Belgians had taught the Congolese little to no French before the Second World War could not be criticised. The author referred to arguments from people like the Senegalese Cheikh Anta Diop, who was the first to blame the colonial powers in his country for only teaching the Africans French and, in this way, denying them any chance of a form of cultural autonomy.[xi] The Belgians, in contrast, had not done anything wrong in this respect: “We did nothing, from 1885 to 1921, to systematically detribalise the Congolese.” Even so, the same author concluded that they had not done anything to prevent the Congolese from shifting from an oral culture to the written counterpart either. After all, education had been a primary factor in the development of literacy among the Congolese and as a consequence in the transition to a written culture. These ideas are also present in the testimonies of the Congolese today. The ancestors had understood that they could make progress by learning to read and write, or at least make advantageous use of it in their relationships with the colonists.

In the same article the first traces of an early Congolese literature (meaning literature written by the Congolese) were discussed. The author gave the periodical Brousse as the first interesting publication, published by a society that called itself Amis de l’Art Indigène, which stood under the patronage of a whole series of personalities from the colonial establishment (including the governor-general, important industrialists and the Catholic bishops). Brousse was the first periodical to publish stories written by the Congolese, from the end of the 1930s. These publications were within the aims of the periodical, the ‘preservation of the oral culture’. In most cases it related to the publication of fables, adaptations of local stories or works of fiction.[xii] A number of stories by Antoine Bolamba, who would later become the editor-in-chief of La Voix du Congolais, were published even before the war. However, there are no traces of non-fiction or opinions published in the press or other publications before 1945, at least not in French. Considering the situation of education, that cannot be considered a great surprise. Naturally it is harder to make observations on the formation of the opinions of the Congolese for publications in local languages.

2.3. Regional
Similar trends may also be observed at a regional level, for example in the mission area of the MSC. In his overview of the local press Vinck reported a whole series of publications, in which the Congolese only rarely voiced critical opinions. Besides the periodicals that were published by the missionaries, there were also a few initiatives by the administration, although it is probably more accurate to state that these were taken by a few specific officials. That was also the case in Coquilhatville. In 1947 the periodical Mbandaka was formed, originally intended for reporting sports news. The publication was in the hands of a colonial official, Victor Brébant, the local chef du bureau d’information. After a while the content of the publication was broadened to general news. The editorial staff and the editor in chief were made up of the Congolese clerks at the information service, including Justin Bomboko.[xiii] According to his successor, Albert Bolela, it was under his initiative that the periodical applied itself to social, economic and political topics. All, he added, “conforming to the general policy of the Government“. That this was probably realised under strong censorship from the administration is apparent from the latter: he described Bomboko’s position as “handicapped by the department of Native Affairs“.[xiv] Bolela wrote that Mbandaka enjoyed immediate success, particularly with the “class of the population who were insufficiently educated“, by which he probably meant those who knew no French.

Most ‘Congolese’ periodicals that started before independence in the mission area of the MSC, were in fact founded at the initiative of the Catholic (and sometimes the Protestant) missionaries. The publications concerned were mostly those in which the missionaries themselves wrote articles and only allowed a few contributions by the Congolese. Only one of them began, in the course of time, to comment on the news and allowed the Congolese to express their views in their own language. Paul Ngoi declared in 1955 in the periodical Lokole: “In other regions of the Colony, the natives already have their own press in their own language. Do the Nkundo-Mongo who inhabit a vast territory not deserve their own newspaper? It is not enough to always rely on our civiliser. We are responsible for our country’s progress. (…) consequently we have judged it useful to publish a periodical ourselves under our management.“[xv] The great problems of colonial society were discussed in the paper according to Vinck: “In the beginning they were still considered from a traditionalist point of view but these questions were quickly asked with a view to the interpretation of events and development in current affairs: fundamental ownership, the use of African languages in public life and education, the fall in the birth rate with the mongo, the organisation of justice, the development of the colony and when nearing independence opinions were expressed relatively freely on major political topics and the formation of political parties.”[xvi] This therefore only applies to the last five years of colonisation. We cannot, in any case, state with any certainty that the impact of these publications was very important. The circulations were fairly limited (e.g. 1500 copies of Lokole were published in 1956; after a few years Mbandaka managed to reach something over 2000 copies).

The voice of the Congolese
3.1. The universe of the évolué
It may be deduced from the above that it was the évolués, who emphatically wished to become the equals of the whites and therefore also sought and demanded their channels of opinion from the coloniser. Evolués, were defined in the first instance by the fact that they had integrated a certain level of western values in their lifestyle. The medium in which they developed emancipation and the best-known and studied example of this question is the publication of La Voix du Congolais. The periodical was set up in 1945 and was published until 1959. In the beginning it was published every two months and from July 1946 it became a monthly periodical.[xvii] The precise history of its foundation is rather difficult to reconstruct, but from the different sources reporting on it the following story can be distilled. The initiative for the publication came from the colonial administration. An official in the colonial administration, Jean Paul Quix, is usually indicated. In 1943 he was charged by the governor-general with organising a new department in the colonial administration, the Service de l’Information pour indigènes. The original requirement for setting up such a publication would probably have come from évolués, who had been admitted to a number of associations of Europeans (e.g. Antoine Bolamba, through Brousse).

On the occasion of the tenth anniversary of La Voix in 1955, one of the editors of the periodical, Joseph Davier, wrote an overview in which he revealed the role of Quix. He described his task as “finding a soupape de sûreté“, and indicated the existing unrest of a large number of Congolese as one of the incentives for the initiative that was taken. In very moderate phrases he related the unrest that was the basis of the periodical, and the ambivalent attitude that was held by many people towards the initiative: “I will always remember those stormy sessions in which each of us poured out our excessively ulcerated spleen to Mr Quix, as though he were responsible. I also remember the calm serenity with which he faced our complaints and calmed our poor nerves. Nobody could understand that an official could bear these bitter torrents and criticisms of the Belgian policy without turning a hair; they accused him of ‘’l’Oeuil de la Sûreté’ (the Secret Service) that would soon come and cause hardship on the foolhardy people that had confided him all the sorrows of their heart.“[xviii] The author of the contribution was not excessively critical: the earlier problematic circumstances had improved long ago, and interracial relations had become “(…) in general (…) excellent“. This indicates that the references to these relations, made very cautiously and well wrapped up at the time, probably have to be taken seriously. Davier wrote for example about the attitude of the Congolese towards the Belgians: “It goes without saying that in our Congolese milieu, the Belgians received a bad press.” It also concedes that the tone of the évolués was still not very radicalised in 1955 and that no real open opposition to the coloniser existed or could exist there. Kadima-Tshimanga, who looked at what happened from a very different perspective (and a posteriori), stated that the formation of the periodical “(…) appears an opportunistic political measure. It served, before the official installation of the status of the évolués with the civic and registration certificate of merit, to channel forces which had no outlet.“[xix]

There is no doubt that the Belgian colonists at first carefully inspected the contents of La Voix. The control certainly always continued to exist, the periodical was always under the supervision of an information official, but there is not much more information on that available. It is also impossible to describe in any detail the exact development of the ideas and standpoints and, above all, the degree of freedom of the editorial staff. On the other hand, the periodical does seem to be a good indicator of the post-war development of Congolese society. In the initial period some articles raised very negative reactions from the establishment. They regularly had to defend themselves, as happened with the article “Nos écrits et leur but” by Joseph Tamba: “On reading our writing, some people appear to have the impression that the blacks and more particularly the ‘évolués’, are excessively critical and even have a tendency to deny the benefits of civilisation. The proof is that in reply to our articles, we are told again and again who the black people were before the whites arrived and who we would still be today, without the presence of the Europeans in the Congo.”[xx] Thirteen years later, in 1959, Van Bol wrote about La Voix (and about another publication of the colonial administration, Nos Images): “These two publications which exactly filled the desires of the indigenous population in their time, today only reflect the more moderate and official opinions of these.”[xxi] Bolamba admitted that: “(…) we must confess that our periodical is currently no longer able to fulfil its role as the mouthpiece of the Congolese with very great effectiveness.“[xxii] That primarily shows that in the post-war years an enormous increase in consciousness had occurred in the Congolese population, but this does not completely solve the mystery of the exact attitude and ideas of the contributors of the periodical. No matter how well-behaved it was, La Voix was an important publication and it probably fulfilled a symbolic function for many Congolese.

Because it was written by Congolese évolués, and considered topics that interested them, La Voix is a very interesting object of study. In the past decades there have already been a number of academic studies of the periodical, especially by Congolese authors. In his study on La Voix du Congolais, Pius Ngandu mentioned a number of criteria that the évolués used to define themselves. The contents of these make it embarrassingly clear how contradictory the creation of this category of ‘evolved person’ was. According to Ngandu a first criterion was the distance to the traditional way of life, to “coutume“. The ‘evolved’ made that clear in their reactions themselves, including those printed in La Voix. They loaded the concept of ‘primitivism’ with a pejorative connotation. Ngandu correctly remarked that in Congo “the assimilation movement arose, not from the coloniser but the colonised”. He also stated that neither the missionaries nor the administration had made any attempt to assimilate the Congolese (and, for example, for the MSC that was very definitely not the case). Still there were a number of political choices, or really administrative creations from the colonisers that the Congolese could use as aids to help them to realise their longing for assimilation. For example, the creation of urban areas (the C.E.C.’s), in which a way of life different from that in the countryside came into existence and where the social control that accompanied the traditional way of life was much less tangible.

Besides this, other even more important factors played a part in this self-definition. There was for instance the general level of education that was reached. The boundary is difficult to define exactly but it was generally accepted that the évolué should at least have completed primary school. Knowledge of French seems to have been a clearer evaluation criterion. Whoever spoke French, could always communicate with the whites. The most important element could simply be described as ‘lifestyle’ but interpreted according to western norms. Of course, these included the moral values inculcated at school, but also the material lifestyle had to be sufficiently similar to that of the West. To fulfil this last condition required sufficient financial means. As a result Ngandu eventually, ten years after independence, regretted that it was precisely this requirement that ensured that the Congolese always strove with inexhaustible eagerness for the highest functions and the best paid jobs: “Later, it was always in order to achieve a higher salary that the Evolués abandoned the offices to throw themselves onto ministerial positions. The model children of the Belgians sought to impose their will on the masses, in their turn to become exploiters, the oppressors of their brothers.” Ngabu further claimed that La Voix du Congolais had cooperated particularly actively by publishing all manner of articles, contributions, interviews about and with the people who ‘succeeded’ and who had received formal recognition of their evolved status (the carte de mérite civique or the carte d’immatriculation). Naturally, the question is whether this occurred only at the initiative of the évolués in the editorial staff. It is possible that there was a certain pressure from above to do this, but it would be very difficult to find out.

In any event, from earlier research it seems that La Voix offers an interesting universe for the interpretation of the complex relationships between colonists and évolués, évolués and non-évolués, and among évolués. The abovementioned criteria were not at all watertight. They leaned on one main foundation: in the last instance the colonial administration decided whether a statute was recognised or not. That was the case de iure in the context of the handing out of the carte de mérite civique and was, as has already been said, laid down in a very vague legal definition. It is more than likely that this was also the case in daily life. There was a sort of deliberate lack of certainty about what being civilised meant which also made it possible for there to be different categories of évolués. Naturally, the differences among évolués were important, to the extent that people were eager to be as ‘real’ as possible. It was about being as evolved as possible. Whoever was only considered so because he was recognized as such by the Belgians for some obscure reason or another, could be sure to arouse the disdain of the others. They therefore appealed to other ‘objective’ criteria to distinguish themselves and to position themselves better in society. Merely a normal social phenomenon, one could say.

A consequence of this was that the évolués themselves began to consider their land as a land without a culture and they began to take on the role of ‘civiliser’ towards their non-evolved fellow countrymen. The initiative of Buisseret to generalise the European curriculum in the Congolese schools was very well received as a result. Independent of the motives that formed the foundations of this decision, they represented an end to the fundamental and double frustration that the educational system in the Congo brought with it. Up to this time there had always been Congolese schools and European schools and the curriculum of both had always been different in principle. Bringing the two together not only ensured that the évolués were brought to an equal level with the Europeans in an important domain, it also ensured that they were especially distinguished among the other Congolese. The ability to make the distinctions was picked up during education, completely integrated by the évolués and illustrated in La Voix. In this context the remark made by Kadima-Tshimanga must be quoted: La Voix du Congolais was really “La Voix de l’Evolué“.[xxiii] Naturally, that was the case because the criteria of the concept évolué were exactly attuned to this. A person only had a voice when it fitted precisely within the lines of that concept.

3.2. Antoine Roger Bolamba: la voix du Congolais.
Antoine Roger Bolamba was a perfect example of this. He was the editor-in-chief of La Voix du Congolais. [xxiv] The predominance of the influence of Bolamba in La Voix, is apparent from several elements. He wrote the editorial opinions at the beginning of each issue. Of all the journalists of La Voix he also wrote the most contributions. In addition he wrote a large proportion of the ‘general’ sections, such as the Chroniques or the Ephémérides, in which interesting occurrences and news events were often reported. Above all he did not recoil from taking standpoints or publishing the contributions by other authors under his own name or that of the editor. In 1975 a study appeared in the cahiers du CEDAF in which the content of the articles that appeared in the last full year of publication of the periodical (1959) were analysed linguistically.[xxv] Although it was limited in scope, this study showed among other things that the use of language in the opinion pieces and the politically inspired articles of the editors was rather poor. The difference between the editor-in-chief and the rest of the contributors was very marked, since Bolamba possessed a much more graphic and subtle use of language than his colleagues. Besides this the author also remarked that there were repeated references to the programmes of the Radio Congo Belge, which were “better directed than many articles in La Voix“. The conclusion of the general evaluation of the writing style was: “If we put aside the articles by Antoine Roger Bolamba and the broadcasts by Belgian Congo Radio, it may be concluded that the writing in La Voix du Congolais is close to zero, i.e. a naïve and unaffected discourse, denuded of any innuendo, which calls ‘a spade, a spade’”. These are certainly interpretations that are based on a relatively limited number of sources and come from a study, that was rather technical and used a qualitative linguistic approach. Nonetheless, it seems to me that these pronouncements, which do not concern the essentials of the cited study, are still significant enough for the interpretation of the opinions and contributions of the authors.

This all goes to show, not so much that the periodical was a vehicle for Bolamba, but that his influence was certainly very important and, to consider it from another angle, that he was representative of the ideas and standpoints of La Voix. In the last issue of La Voix he wrote in a concluding assessment of the periodical: “All its attention was paid to the realisation of a fraternal community between Blacks and Whites; it dedicated itself to removing the discrimination which made contact between the two groups of man present here difficult; it stigmatised the abuses of those who made a public display of excessive racism; it always talked in the language of truth and reason, without being afraid of the criticism which evil intentioned men threw at it.”[xxvi] Bolamba probably represented a sort of moderate striving for emancipation on the basis of his own convictions. This meant above all that he did so without being forced by the colonial administration. The fact that he became a cabinet assistant of Buisseret in 1956 indicates that he was on very good terms with the Belgians and that he was a perfectly acceptable character to them. In any event it is certain that he was a very good pupil of the colonial discourse.

In his first editorials Bolamba was undoubtedly the humble servant of his masters. His pen sometimes seemed to be sugar coated. The superiority of the whites over the blacks was certain beyond doubt, and could not have been otherwise considering the long history of western culture. His own people’s culture and history was obviously not something that concerned him. This remark should not be understood cynically, it was clearly really the case: “A large gap actually exists between our civilisers and ourselves. From what does this arise? Very simply from the fact that the Whites have a very superior personality to our own, as a result of slow and profound work over more than two thousand years.”[xxvii] Bolamba was not at all satisfied with the term colour bar used by some. He defined the colour bar as a form of racial discrimination, either at a political level or at an administrative level. In this he referred to the examples of legal segregation in the United States, South America and South Africa. He claimed that similar forms did not exist in the Belgian colony. However, he would not be so categorical with regard to the administration. It was hard to avoid the concrete examples: segregated shops, station platforms, etc. “But all this is not intended in a bad way, as we realise that it is not done with a desire to keep us in a position of inferiority and that it is not the result of a rigid political line.” Bolamba had clearly absorbed the colonial discourse very well:” We can sense in all our civilisers’ deeds that they consider the humanity within us and not our ebony skin.”[xxviii]

In 1949 Bolamba published a book (at that time that was an unheard of achievement for a Congolese in itself) on one of the most important social problems confronting the évolués: “Les problèmes de l’évolution de la femme noire“.[xxix] Bolamba’s premises were clearly set out in the introduction to his book: Congolese women could not take part in the development of the land, because they were not sufficiently educated. The contrast between education for boys and that for girls, which at that time was also recognised by the administration (it could not be denied) were listed by Bolamba. The concept of évolution was prevalent throughout his argument. “If educated men have taken a leap of ten centuries on the road to civilisation, this is not the same for our women who remain stuck at the initial point of our development.”[xxx] The problems caused by marriages contracted between educated men and lesser or completely uneducated women would be the subject of the book, he claimed. “I have shown the abuses which are the main cause for the instability of our households.”

The book described the marital problem in six chapters: “On the reflection before marriage“, “The serious nature of marriage“, “On the harmony and peace within the household“, “Practical advice“, “Family and morality” and “Instruction and education of children“. It was written completely in agreement with the missionary moral codes and was really just as conservative as the Catholic church itself with regard to women. Its approach was not particularly subtle. The “caractère sérieux” of marriage implied for example that marriage with a person of a sickly constitution must be avoided: “It is necessary to avoid marrying a person from a family where there is hereditary illness, for example, tuberculosis. Some illnesses occasionally have long-term causes. Do not forget, you are called to have children.”[xxxi] That also implied, in fact, that potential marriage partners should best find out in advance whether they were fertile and this was said in so many words. Marriage should happen as quickly as possible (and that could be at a younger age than in Europe, which was brought in as a reference) and waiting a long time was a bad thing in any event. Once married, it was important to try to be a model family. The woman must be “matinale“: she must get up early to do the housework. Naturally, she must take good care of the children. The man had to ensure the woman was well dressed but she must not make unreasonable demands concerning her wardrobe.

There was clearly an attempt to bring about a change in a number of areas in traditional customs and usages of the Congolese. For example with regard to food: “The housewife should prepare the food in the kitchen itself and not outside, close to the house, in view of passers-by and visitors.”[xxxii] In fact, the culture of eating posed a number of problems because there seem to have been big differences in that area: Bolamba strongly emphasised that a man should eat at the table together with his wife (which contrasted with the usual custom).[xxxiii] Here, too, the missionary approach was heard in Bolamba’s words: “Discipline is nowhere more apparent than at the table…” The text was a long list of what was considered exemplary behaviour and was quite without complexes in its prescriptiveness. The woman must be graceful and submissive; the man patient, amiable and understanding: “Before becoming angry at the vexations of their spouses the men must try to explain their errors to them.” This chapter also practically emphasised that alcoholic drink was the greatest enemy of woman. Drink was also bad for men, but even more so for women. Enough sleep was also important and consequently going out late was not a good idea. Care must also be taken with food, so that the digestion would not hinder sleep. In very guarded and modest terms, warning was also given about sexual excesses or ‘abnormalities’. The children, finally, should learn to be obedient and must be disciplined, particularly and above all during their adolescence, which must be considered the period in which a person was the most exposed to all sorts of bad influences and passions.

Throughout this, Bolamba referred to the ‘good old times’ that he himself had experienced as a young adolescent. It was a time in which it had been much safer and simpler to be an adolescent: “I often dream of that time when the children of my age steered clear of the dances called ‘Maringa’, where they would not accept that a man would order them to find loose women at his place, where we would find pleasure in studying, singing, praying, telling stories or when walks in the mountains, excursions in the countryside accompanied by a teacher, a hunter of wild animals, constituted real treats for us. I dream of that time when life was not a dangerous peril for young people as it is today.”[xxxiv] In these places his testimony seems to have a lot in common with what was advocated by the MSC. At the conclusion of his book he finally switched over to an even stronger patriotism and attachment to the colonists: “We love the Belgians because they are our benefactors, we love them even more because they are our saviours. Let us gather together in the shade of the blue flag with its golden stars, let us search there for the courage and will needed for the development of our fatherland. We entrust our life and our peace to them. Let us give thanks and sing praises as never before for the Belgian Royal Dynasty to which we owe our current tranquillity. The Belgian African Empire will only become a large, strong, beautiful and prosperous country if it respects the following three words: GOD, FAMILY, FATHERLAND.”[xxxv]

4. La Voix du Congolais: the évolués’ voice
4.1. Views about society and education
La Voix paid regular attention to education or related subjects. Most of the articles that had education as a subject were reports about specific schools. The representation that dominated in these contributions was that of optimism, of progress. True to the name they used for themselves, they used phrases like “jalons de notre progrès“, “développement au pas accéléré“, or “envisager l’avenir avec confiance“. Education reached a great proportion of the population, education penetrated to the farthest corners of the primeval jungle, the Congolese themselves gave lessons in very many schools: all of these pronouncements were evidence of an indomitable belief in progress.[xxxvi] This is especially true, because it was just as possible to consider each of these observations from another, less positive side – something that now and again gave rise to more critical approaches. In particular, the demand for more schools was regularly recurring.

In spite of the often conciliatory and sometimes even submissive language used by the people who wrote contributions in La Voix there were real problems behind the articles. The problems which came to the fore about the educational system, were part of the broader context of problems linked with the changes taking place in Congolese society now that a large part of its members increasingly adopted the customs and (at least) the vocabulary of European society. Very often more personal problems, that the confrontation of cultures brought about in the relationship between parents and children, were referred to. Mobé wrote about the education of the masses that fell under the responsibility of different groups in society. Besides the missionaries, the colonists and the administration this also included the évolués. An exemplary function was reserved for them.[xxxvii] This exemplary function was exercised in the contributions that were published in the periodical. A subject that seemed to be perfectly suitable was that of education in the broad sense and the role of the parents therein. Other important and frequently published themes were the use of language at school, the position of the woman, the development of the educational system and dissatisfaction with the emancipation of the Congolese. That last theme was almost never present as a subject per se but was often prominent in the background when other subjects were discussed.

4.1.1. Society and educational problems
There was a great deal of emphasis placed on the fact that the school should be on the same wavelength as the family. With the regularity of a clock articles or letters were published in which it was stated that education began at home. Obviously, it regularly happened that the parents did not want to cooperate or did not take any account of the fact that the children had certain obligations at school or were not at all interested in school attendance. As early as 1948 a certain Ngandu was very concerned about the deep moral crisis that Congolese society was going through. Dazzled by money, the population only wanted more and more education. This desire for knowledge was certainly positive in itself, but there must be something else to keep the knowledge in check and give it direction. In the moral education of youth the parents had an important responsibility, of which they had to become aware most urgently.[xxxviii] These important social problems in connection with Congolese youth were reported quite regularly. These were usually discussed with great concern by the editors-in-chief: drinking by the young (Colin, 1954), the condition of the youth in the towns (Bolamba, 1956), wholesome literature (Colin, 1956).

In general the contributors often wrote very negatively about their fellow Congolese. In 1948 one contribution stated the following: the blacks had an education without scruples, without shame, and gave way early to their sexual desires. Intellectual degeneration was the consequence. With respect to the European child, “The latter lives in a more wholesome and less degenerate world. Their parents watch over and follow the development of their senses, they discipline them and arm them against all abuses.” According to the writer, the évolués tried to do the same, but once the child left the family circle it only saw bad examples. The only solution was radical: simply shut the children away from the bad environment, by bringing them up in boarding schools. The author compared the blacks with animals and took a Eurocentric point of view, in which the behaviour of his countrymen was talked about in rather pedantic terms: “Il s’abandonna à sa nature et au déchaînement de ses passions.” It is obvious that a number of people at that time had utterly and completely adopted the European way of doing things and showed no resistance at all to the new way of life, let alone thought about criticising it.[xxxix] Justin Mabanza addressed parents some years later with a plea that they should educate their own children. He criticised heavily the matriarchate that determined social relations in a number of regions. It was rather common there that children were brought up by other family members than their biological parents. The author described that bluntly as a “véritable fléau” and he developed an extended argument to show that this was particularly bad. [xl]

Michel Landu particularly indicated the responsibility of the teachers themselves in an article from 1952. Rather traditionally minded and exaggeratedly law-abiding, his premise was the principle “The class is only as good as the teacher“, by analogy with classical proverbs such as “The earth is only as good as man” or “We will always end up resembling those we often see“. He followed with a real exhortation: “That work, politeness, patriotism, Christian virtues stand at the forefront in our classrooms and impose themselves on the public’s attention. With patient tenacity and a savoir-faire worthy of high class educators, let us create a climate that forces admiration among our pupils. Indeed, the worth of the class is as good as that of the master.”[xli] Dominique Iloo, who himself was a teacher, reacted to that article by stating that it was somewhat naive only to look at the teacher. In very many cases the parents’ attitude formed a millstone around the teacher’s neck. The latter could be as good an example as possible but if the parents did not change their behaviour according to his directions and instruction, it was a lost cause: “Consider, in passing, the Christian obligation of attending Sunday mass. In the classroom, the teacher talks and helps his children fulfil this obligation. At home the father or mother advise the child against it. (…) Their recurring absences confirm their words and convince their children. In numerous cases the parents are responsible for the misbehaviour of their children.”

Another important aspect of education did not escape the attention of Iloo. Almost triumphantly he remarked that the level of the pupils was not necessarily improved in comparison to those ten years before: “What is the reason for this? Is it the books used that are at fault as maintained in n° 73 of the ‘Voix du Congolais’ (…)? No! Particularly in the large centres where we live with this modernisation – and unfortunately it is also being felt in the interior – the pupils give way too much to pleasure. The bars and nightclubs they visit make them dreamers at their school desks. The teacher is often mistaken in their looks and their apparent application. They barely remember a few notions which they forget the following day.”[xlii] The observations of another author, Gabriël NgbongboIn, took the same tone. His opinion was that the pupils no longer showed respect any more for the teachers and that the parents agreed with them, rather than standing on the side of the teachers. He begged the parents to do as follows: “Correct your children if you learn that they have written disgraceful words on the walls. Nor should you allow your children to be members of bands playing in bars. And you parents, do not insult or hit the teachers. They are not insane and would not punish your children without good cause. Allow them to do their work.”[xliii]

Iloo argued, just as others before him, to make the boarding school regime general. Bolamba himself had written an article about it a year earlier. In it he quoted among other things the beliefs of eminent Jesuits, whom he called “specialists in the matter of the black soul”. Boarding schools protected the morals of the young black. Youth needed to be confronted with discipline and compulsion: “If boarding schools, armies, hierarchical associations of young people are maintained everywhere that is because it is considered important for young people to be confined by discipline, a constraint that makes their will more supple and will mould their character.” In many cases these blessings could not come from the parents: “Certainly, the parents also have an important role to play in their children’s education but everyone knows too well that Congolese parents are currently unable to fulfil that role satisfactorily.”[xliv]

According to the editorial staff of La Voix, the moral situation of the population did not really seem to improve in the course of the 1950’s. Contributions regularly appeared in which authors either regretted the lamentable morals of the young or their parents, or gave tips on ‘how it ought to be done’. In 1957 Nkonga wrote: “Today the time has come that families desire, even make sacrifices for their children’s education.” Many parents did not spur their children on with a desire to work, and left that to the upbringing by the school. They agreed with their children too much. According to the author, it did not contribute to a good teaching environment.[xlv] In 1958 a certain Luvuvuma wrote a number of recommendations for the maintenance of a good relationship between the family and the school in “Quand l’école et la famille formeront-ils une unité au Congo?” The author observed that very many children were sent away from school. On the part of the school not much effort was made to take account of the character of the children, or simply to find out about it. That caused rancour and regrettable reactions from the parents. The teachers must remember that they were not employees, they had a vocation. The parents for their part must realise that the child needed good care. Often there were parents who knew nothing about the education and the studies of their children, they were not concerned about them at all: “But they will be the first to be surprised or even to become angry if their children fail an exam.”[xlvi]

Bolamba also put his penny’s worth in here. He found it necessary to regularly cite articles from other periodicals which were considered to have sufficient educational worth for Congolese parents. In 1958 he cited an article from “L’Afrique Nouvelle“, a periodical of the White Fathers in the French colonies, in which a list was given of matters that should be avoided in the education of children. In 1959 again, he reacted in a somewhat remarkable manner to an article that told the story of a group of Congolese girls who were asked by Belgian colonists to let themselves be photographed while were performing traditional dances round a campfire, topless. The author of the article reacted indignantly and found such behaviour by the Belgians and the Congolese completely inappropriate. The Belgians should not make the Congolese a source of ridicule. The Congolese parents should take care of their children and give them moral support to avoid such excesses. Bolamba reacted to this in a note from the editor. In the light of his previously cited statements, his position can seem a bit unusual: “Certainly the parents have an imperative obligation to be concerned with their children, especially young girls; but there is a margin between that and taking exception to folk dances. Male and female dancers in the villages adopt the clothing that fits perfectly with the customs they inherited from their ancestors in their performances. (…) So what?”[xlvii]

4.1.2. The position of women
We have already referred to the articles that appeared in La Voix about women who took up positions in social life, worked outside the house, earned money and made a career. The views of the évolués in their own contributions only agreed with this in part. The well-known story of the need for the évolués to have wives who could understand them, but at the same time run a household, was never very far away. Someone wrote: “If the domestic work is not carried out orderly and properly, the man will not stay at home. He will seek distraction elsewhere, which will ruin the harmony of the household.” The author of this article clearly emphasised two requirements: the woman must be a good mother and a skilled housewife. A girl’s education must therefore be developed in this direction. A list of the tasks that were most neglected by women, indicates the importance the author gives to them: washing up, the kitchen, the daily cleaning of the bedroom and the bedclothes, the household expenses (“The reader will not be surprised at me writing that black women are improvident by nature and that they are unable to order their household expenses”), the vegetable garden, the chicken run, and finally, care for the children.[xlviii]

In an article from 1957, criticism of girls’ education in Boma was hardly veiled: “Nevertheless we consider it useful to bring it to their (the Sisters, JB) attention that they seem to have missed out on certain points relating to the development of Congolese women, although this certainly is an important problem.” The lack of development of the education was indicated as the immediate origin of its low output. It was not the fault of the girls themselves, but their enthusiasm was simply being destroyed: “And yet, you should not be mistaken: black women are avid to learn, to perfect themselves. In our opinion the overly rudimentary curriculum is the main cause for the lack of diligence established amongst the school-going population. A lot of girls realise the lack of intellectual and domestic training they will receive if they continue such studies. They are consequently forced to conclude that the final result does not justify such long attendance at the institution.”[xlix] This certainly elicited a reaction from the missionaries, who did not like criticism of their educational approach. They also tried to refute the problem of absenteeism. That was solved for the major part through discussions with the parents of the girls concerned. The staff was also of more than decent quality. If there were complaints in that area, they were caused by the fact that so many female teaching assistants resigned when they started a family. The Sisters also had a difficult task as they continually had to start training new staff.[l]

The positions taken concerning the development of women, were often very traditional and, in many cases, confirmed the existing state of affairs. Like, for example, Evariste Iyolo, from Monkoto who claimed the school must speed up the intellectual formation of women. He refused to comment on the leadership of the administration but certainly did criticise the behaviour of a number of girls, who were showing too little interest. He did not go much further than repeating the statement that a woman should get an education to be able to keep up with the man. That remained the goal to strive for: she should be able to understand her husband better.[li] Dominique Iloo, himself a teacher, called on evolved parents to show understanding and respect for the teaching staff. He also called on men to help their women in bringing up the children, revealing then a very paternalistic standpoint towards the woman: “We cannot ignore that as long as black women are not any better educated than they are today, the education of our children will always leave much to be desired. But our companions do not have to be the only ones to fulfil this position of education. We are obliged to support them, or even to take their place if they are incapable. We should help our women. We should induce them to work better for our children. We are supposed to know things, let us show our abilities through examples that will unquestionably convince our still ignorant women.”[lii]

4.1.3. Language use in education.
As early as 1947 Bolamba wrote a commentary on an article that had appeared in the Courrier de l’Afrique about examinations in the Scheutist schools. Apparently, a system was applied there whereby several languages were chosen, and there was mention of Dutch and English. Because, unlike the Belgian pupils, the Congolese really had no mother tongue that they had a good grasp of: “Here our pupils do not have a native language as the native languages or dialects cannot be considered languages.” He asked whether it would not be better to restrict them to French as people already laughed at the Congolese because they could not even speak that language decently.[liii]

Everybody seemed to agree with that. There should be more French at school. This was still being heavily discussed in the second half of the 1950s. Lundulla called for teaching French from kindergarten. He strongly opposed the use of native languages in primary education. These languages were too primitive and could not master the concepts of technology and science. He used a special argument from authority to close his argument: “According to our information, the teaching of French was developed in Belgium, on the accession of King Leopold I who married Queen Marie-Louise of France soon after. We are proud to say that the latter has a special place in our hearts.”[liv] Iyeki, also regularly exerted himself in his articles to promote French. In 1956 he wrote: “Our aim is to emphasise – for the umpteenth time –the language to be used in the schools.” He opposed the argument that children who learnt French at school would lose the other languages. Furthermore, he referred to the fact that a child that knew no French would be threatened with isolation: “French is a language that will facilitate the meeting of new flows of ideas.”[lv]

The lack of knowledge of French in certain schools was also regularly mentioned in contributions.[lvi] A commentary by Okoka on the school for teaching assistants in Tshumbe Ste-Marie seemed to point out situations that were also reported in the mission area of the MSC: “I established that the teaching was not at the same level as elsewhere. With regard to the French language, the courses were only 30 minutes a week and this was given in a monotonous or even unpleasant tone. On the other hand, those who tried to speak French were immediately singled out and considered a revolutionary element. Indisputably French is a language which is linked to literary and scientific culture in Congo as elsewhere. I maintain that at the moment, French is neglected in the classrooms in our region.”[lvii] The girls’ school in Boma, also criticised by Vumuka, had the same problems. “If the education given in Boma merits consideration and acknowledgement, it no less remains true that it could gain a lot by being improved. A good number of pupils are not even able to stammer the slightest bit in French, or write a letter in Kikongo, their maternal language.”

Still, this language question also exposed a number of ambiguities. Bolamba again voiced his opinion concerning the use of language at school in 1956. He conceded that much had changed in the meantime: educational reforms had taken place, there was education by lay people, university education had started, and metropolisation was in full swing. Still, it was necessary to argue for French at school. According to him cultural formation in French should begin at kindergarten, although that did not mean that he wanted to turn away from the traditional usages and customs: “Nobody will throw the first stone at us, if we dare to confirm and maintain the incomparable superiority of French language to those languages of our native Africa. The teaching of tribal languages is a necessity for our general education but it should not be the object of exaggerated fanaticism. The natives of the Belgian Congo have unanimously opted for the study of French. They understand that prolonged education in a primitive language would hinder the cultural aim they envisage. It should be pointed out that the well wishing European support our theory.”[lviii] The arguments used by Bolamba make it clear that the promotion of the superiority of European civilisation was still intact in these circles.

4.1.4. Level of education
The question of French was only part of a broader movement. Léon Ilunga made it clear in 1945: “The instruction we receive in general makes us simple auxiliaries. It does not allow us to progress and to complete this development.” In his contribution he asked for the creation of higher education and trade education ‘for our children’. Primary education must be reorganised and must become a springboard that would allow these children to reach higher than was now the case. The administration must seriously reform the curriculum (which at that time had not yet happened), make French instruction available to all and ensure that the children who finished school must be capable of tackling further studies. At present one was hardly able to understand French after finishing primary school. The vocational schools must also reach a level that was much higher than that of ‘dumb assistants’ who could not work independently. To sum up: “The door to European civilisation having been opened to us, it is a human obligation to allow us and our children to enter.” Ilunga expressed himself somewhat sceptically about the level of the Congolese elite, to which he belonged: “The knowledge we have is truly very elementary. We talk of a black elite; where can that be sought? (…) Perhaps in the groups of those who claim they know about the affairs of the whites because they can speak French more or less correctly? No, one thousand times, no.“[lix]

In 1950 the question of pre-university education for Congolese was still formulated in a very well-behaved and respectful manner: “Certainly, we are only children…“[lx] Bolamba also remained friendly to the Belgians for a long time, but stated in 1953 that the further extension of education should occur as soon as possible, though he was in agreement with the position that it would be a long time before the Congolese would reach the right level and be of equal merit to the whites.[lxi] In 1954, on the occasion of the opening of the University in Kimwenza he then wrote a few remarkable editorials. In contrast to what might have been expected, Bolamba was not brimming with enthusiasm. He observed that everything had been organised a little hastily. He urged speedy arrangements for Congolese students who wanted to go and study in Belgium.[lxii] Towards Buisseret he was again very positive. He defended the views the minister had taken in his first policy statement. Bolamba particularly defended the creation of lay education on the grounds of democratic principles, which “were introduced by the Belgians into the Congo”. Furthermore the editor-in-chief mentioned that university education was naturally very welcome, but that above all there was a demand for adequate preparation for that education and that there was a need for good primary and secondary education. He was pleased to say that the scholarships for the Congolese in Belgium had become a fact by that time.[lxiii]

The quality of education or the lack of education in certain regions were recurring themes in La Voix.[lxiv] A contribution from 1957 looked a little further. The introduction of education at all possible levels had indeed not seemed to be a solution for all problems, the author understood: “Nevertheless our civilisers that appreciate our intellectual and professional abilities leave us perplexed before the hesitation that they show in granting us our total confidence.” That lack of trust was indeed expressed in other areas. The development of consciousness by the évolués took another step forward: “We cannot accept to see our graduates subordinate both in relation to wage and respect to white women who work in offices and factories who do not have the equivalent diplomas to these graduates. Acting in this way would be to commit a grave offence.” In the same article the author also argued for more “increasingly skilled labour“.[lxv]

The call for emancipation became increasingly louder: “One cannot deny the value of the studies done by those who finished secondary school. In earlier times it were the middle schools that trained excellent black employees. Despite their average education numerous of them have managed to take on the work as yet only entrusted to the white race. We think it illogical in the current situation of the development in the Congo that young men leaving secondary school become typists in the same sense as those leaving middle school. Why can they not immediately take on the position of editor?“[lxvi] Another author, Ntamba, remarked that there was a great lack of respect from the white bosses for Congolese having secondary diplomas. The only solution was systematically making all types of education equivalent: “The era of curricula specifically adapted to the native population has passed.”[lxvii] On the other hand, Bolamba himself stated in 1958 that a university level of knowledge did not offer sufficient guarantees on its own. Everything depended, after all, on what exactly was being taught. And in the case of Congo, the knowledge being passed on was obviously still too theoretical. He thought that the new graduates should really be able to travel to Europe. The reason: “We do not doubt their intellectual ability but, let’s face it, their knowledge is theoretical.”[lxviii]

4.1.5. Dialogue about education
A very detailed article on education that is doubly interesting in this context was published in 1952. The article, written by Bolamba, was the result of a thought exercise, in which thirty or so évolués from all over the country had taken part. The discussions, the article reported, were held in the presence of “a top civil servant from the Department of Education of the General Government“, who was thanked extensively by Bolamba and described approvingly as “an impartial guide and informed of schooling issues“.[lxix] The article summarised a number of criticisms made about the existing educational system. The form of the article and the manner in which the criticism was formulated and subsequently evaluated, revealed much about the colonial relationships at that moment and also reflected the distorted position of the évolués. After every point of criticism, an ‘answer’ to the criticism was set down. That was not only a rather paternalistic approach to the readers of La Voix (but that was generally the case), it also perfectly allowed any possibly embarrassing points to be neutralised immediately and almost unnoticed.

Most attention at the level of elementary education was paid to language problems. The évolués obviously pushed forward the point that French should be generally adopted as the language of education. The list of claims began with the statement that French should be adopted as the national language in the whole colony. At school, education in local languages still played far too great a role. The question was also posed as to whether too much was going wrong because of the excessively free application of the school curriculum. In the answers given to the different points, it was apparent that native languages were indeed no longer a priority at school. In fact, the school curriculum still stipulated at that time (1952) that the language of education had to be a native language. In the remarks that were formulated in this article it was finally stated that the native languages could not be pushed aside completely.

Again, the residency issue for the children in the towns came up during the meeting. The Congolese advocated the introduction of compulsory school attendance but the administration continued to defend that it would be more efficient to systematically send the children back to their village of origin, if they had no family in the town able to accommodate them and they could not find a place in a boarding school. For the first time, the article also formulated a claim, unheard of at that time: a serious and well-organized secondary education must exist for women as well as for men, so that they could also go to work and earn money. Here the évolués were confronted with complete incomprehension. The administration evidently saw no need to develop this education. It was still too early for it. All the efforts must be directed to the formation of good housewives and dedicated mothers. The parallels between this answer and the views in Bolamba’s book are striking. The only point of criticism to which those responsible could really formulate no answer was evidently the level of the teachers. People who were employed had often progressed no further than the third or fourth school year with regard to intellectual skills. It is apparent from the reaction that a diploma was still not required for a subsidy.

The laconic reply to the request for university level education was: “it will come, when it comes”. The Congolese then asked to be able to send students to Belgian universities. University level education was one of the topics that the editorial staff was very concerned about. Articles were not published on it very often but the editorial staff clearly followed the question carefully. At the end of the first academic year they were ready and waiting to report the scores of the Congolese students in the paper. At that time this still related to a preparatory year, because the Congolese students were not considered ready to go straight to the university level. Of the 31 candidates who began the year, only 11 passed but the editorial staff spoke of a great success.[lxx] When a person could leave for Belgium to go to study there, or if somebody came back with good results, this was also reported.[lxxi] In 1956 the speech Buisseret gave at the opening of the second University in the Congo (the ‘state’ University) was published in extenso as a supplement in La Voix.[lxxii]

The last part of ‘the great educational article’ included yet another variety of questions and remarks that arose, of which one was about religious education. Again, here the évolués and administration were involved in a dialogue of the deaf. The évolués had noticed that there was too much religious education in the schools and that less time should be spent on it. In reply it was stated: “Religious education in schools is not exaggerated at all. This education is necessary for the pupil’s moral education. It does not take any more place than that reserved in the curriculum.”[lxxiii] The attitude of the editorial staff seemed in any case to be ambiguous on this topic. In general the missionaries were treated protectively. “We must ensure not to find ourselves in the wake of those who denigrate religious education.”[lxxiv] Rather exceptionally, the missionaries were the subject of criticism from the editorial staff. That normally happened in veiled terms, as here.

However this may be, these contributions, often still dominated by colonial discourse, did not voice critical attacks so much as rather desperate questions on their own fate, their own future. On the other hand sharp analyses were made about the exodus from the countryside. One author remarked that even if all imposed works, chiefdoms and native districts were immediately abolished, people would still continue to leave for the town. The true reason was not to be sought in repugnance for traditional village life (an analysis that was made regularly by well intentioned whites), but was caused by the complete dislocation of these traditions: “The day the young black boy enters the school, the time he starts to touch the mystery of the alphabet, the key to all knowledge, at that time, he buried his ancestral customs.” The author of this contribution went much further than this observation. Confronted with contradictory expectations, a feeling of confusion overcame many Congolese, he stated: “And it is the summit of his disappointment to establish that after having initiated him in their pleasures and life, after having him inculcated with European ideas and principles over the years, he is reproached for not having kept his black soul, not having preserved the good things in his ancestral customs, of wanting to abandon his native lifestyle, etc…“[lxxv] That feeling even led to distrust: “The increasingly numerous natives are wondering with our friend Tshibamba Paul if they haven’t knowingly placed us outside the path that has to lead man to his social destiny.” In an 1956 article about education in Luozi, the author referred to a teacher who stood in front of an apathetic class at the beginning of the school year and spoke to them threateningly: “This is going to be serious for you.” At which the children answered: “Those who studied before us are still in the village, why should we do our best?”[lxxvi]

4.2. Local contributions and insights
4.2.1. The state in the region.
La Voix circulated throughout the entire colony and therefore certainly did not focus exclusively on news from the Equatorial Province. In 1950 Bolamba wrote a travel report on his visit to the Equator and Coquilhatville. He was moderately positive about Coquilhatville: he found people there very pleasant and hospitable, but observed that the material state of the native neighbourhood left much to be desired, in contrast to the European town. Most dwellings were still not built in durable material. Again, four years later he wrote: “The visitor who leaves for Coquilhatville for the first time, cannot fail to suffer from some deception. While Léopoldville, Matadi, Elisabethville, Bukavu and Stanleyville (only to cite these towns) make giant leaps in the fields of economics and urbanisation, the progress of the capital of the Equator province is slower.” According to Bolamba, much work was also to be done in the black areas and new expansions (“Coq II”) looked like camps. In another contribution an article from Mbandaka was quoted in which there was a complaint about the lamentable state of the houses in the C.E.C.[lxxvii] The villages in the surrounding area were not much better. People there lived in very uncomfortable circumstances. Bolamba was very critical towards the évolués: they did not behave as he expected of them. The Cercle Léopold II, which had been set up some years earlier, as in other towns as a means for social uplift was already disbanded. Bolamba remarked cynically: “This association has the inevitable bar and an official library that is little used, except by the pupils from the school.”[lxxviii] The relations between the evolved Congolese and the rest of the population were not positively assessed at all, the attitude of the évolués was very disparaging and belittling. “This is very serious. If such a situation should become more generalised, a fatal blow would inevitably be given to Congolese society.”

Bolamba went still further and reported the existence of a number of ‘associations’ of a very dubious nature at the same time. Again, in a contribution from 1955 he seemed to be especially fixated on the lamentable moral state of the educated Congolese of the area. He referred repeatedly to the high consumption of alcohol among the évolués, and moral degeneracy. The tone was clear: “The civilised men of Coquilhatville must unite and get along. They must blow life into their Leopold II association. They must read numerous books made available to them by the State. They must avoid mutual criticism, the malicious mind of disparagement and the tendency they have to disgrace their fellows with their European chiefs, in the aim of destroying their reputation or career.” The club life did not represent that much, it appears. The Cercle Léopold II functioned more as a café than club house. Bolamba described the people responsible and in doing so described also the prevailing atmosphere: they were, according to him, “indifférents, moqueurs et insouciants.” From time to time a Belgian passed by to chat, but in general there was very little contact between white and black. In fact, Bolamba called these contacts “presque inexistants à Coquilhatville“. Despite some attempts to get cultural life going again, he said people remained in a deep lethargy.

The news about the Cercles in the Equatorial Province and, more specifically, in the Tshuapa was, for that matter, seldom very encouraging. The Cercles were initially intended to be a Congolese version of association life after the Western model and sprouted like mushrooms after the Second World War. However, they had great difficulty freeing themselves from the influence of the Belgians. La Voix reported in 1946 that people in Coquilhatville had, for the present, decided not to start their own publication for évolués. Louis Ilonga, a clerk with the colonial administration, obediently wrote about “nos éducateurs“, and reported only that this postponement was justified by the lack of resources of the authorities responsible for ‘évolué-affairs’. In 1949 the existence of a circle of évolués in Ingende was reported, but evidently after a few years this had been totally non-existent.[lxxix] In 1950 Bolamba showed his approval for the reader’s remark that in the association in Boende people only talked and complained but that no initiatives were taken. From the text of the letter it seemed that the évolués mostly argued among themselves.[lxxx] From the report of a general meeting of the same association, which was also reported in La Voix, it did indeed seem that few initiatives were taken: “Healthy distractions are periodically organised. Evening courses are given to residents who ask for them once the circle has the necessary materials available.”[lxxxi] In 1951 it was reported that in Bongandanga, again in the Equatorial Province, the local Cercle was really led by a Belgian, who was described as “animateur“. This ‘animateur’ himself arranged the lectures for the association.[lxxxii]

Fundamental contradictions in discussions between the évolués also came to light in the reporting on the Equatorial Province, as well as contradictions between discourse and reality. On the one hand there was a powerful, incorrigible optimism, belief in the future and joy in what the Congolese experienced as emancipation. In a section entitled “Au tableau d’honneur de l’élite congolaise” Bolamba reported the people who announced that they had received a Carte du mérite civique.[lxxxiii] In 1952, La Voix also reported with some pride on the opening of the first African restaurant in Coquilhatville.[lxxxiv] In a majestically optimistic style the periodical invariably carried such contributions as this about the appointment of a new chief in the C.E.C., in which the new representative was introduced as “very dynamic” and “very suitable for the job”. Criticism was not often seen in such contributions and that remained the case to the end. On the other hand, in articles and reports very often information trickled trough that showed that reality was very different. In 1957 Iyeky wrote in an “appel aux amis de Coquilhatville” on the relations between the évolués in Coquilhatville. He spoke of misunderstandings, a lack of community spirit, and revealed dubious practices therein: “But also how unhappy we feel to hear them say: ‘Here you cannot do anything. Everything is reported to the authorities by anonymous letters and the people keeping black lists are very numerous.’ What? … Do anonymous letters still exist where you are? … But isn’t that an outdated process for the African elite?” The local administration evidently still had a sturdy grasp on the Congolese elite in this region.[lxxxv]

4.2.2. The position of the évolués in society
In the first few years editorial staff evidently did not adopt a very assertive attitude towards the colonists. Reports of particular incidents were certainly made. In 1947 the editorial staff gave some commentary on a case in the medical inspection service in Coquilhatville. One of the Congolese officials was found in an obvious state of drunkenness during working hours. In response to this the responsible doctor had announced a general ban, for coloured staff in the medical service, from entering bars. In Flandria one of the editors had been to interview the Congolese employees of the HCB and was on that occasion a witness to how one of the European managers himself misbehaved towards the Congolese: “(…) a European came to ‘’question” a clerk from the accounting department in a rather …coarse manner, throwing his hat in the air, under the pretext of him having abandoned his work. This took place at the H.C.B. beach in the presence of a relatively large number of witnesses.”[lxxxvi] The editorial staff, and particularly Bolamba, clearly condemned this event. It was reported along with another incident, in Jadotstad, in which a European had abused a Congolese man in government service, calling him a maqaque. When this man had answered that his job could not be done by an ape, he had attacked him. All in all the reactions from the editorial staff remained relatively ‘well behaved’, but the tone that was used, indicated that this was only the tip of the iceberg.

This same editorial staff compromised pretty well between complaining about, contradicting and agreeing with the coloniser, which regularly led to moralising contributions. At one time the Brothers of the Christian Schools decided to exclude from their school the children whose parents did not live in the town itself. When a complaint was made against this decision in a reader’s letter, the editorial staff made some excuses for it, with the argument that there were probably practical reasons for it. Besides, the editorial staff argued, Brother Director applied the ruling with some flexibility in practice.[lxxxvii] When a report appeared in 1957 on a change to the curfew that had applied for a long time in the Centre Extra Coutumier of Coquilhatville, it was accompanied by suitable approval but at the same time with a number of warnings. After all, now the curfew had been relaxed, cafés and bars could stay open longer. The editorial staff wagged a finger: “If we applaud this new decree, it is not without reserve. Everything depends on the way in which it will be used. The authorities wanted to satisfy the wishes of the population. We should benefit from this new favour and act as men who may be trusted and relied upon.” At the same time there were warnings about the formation of gangs of young people

This ambiguity was also illustrated by a number of other examples. Dominique Iloo described in 1950 how a common church service was organised as the result of an accident in an army barracks in Bikoro, whereby a Belgian captain and three Congolese soldiers had died: “Ce jour-là, Blancs et Noirs se sentirent frères.” He wrote that there had never been such an event at which whites and blacks had taken part together since the foundation of Coquilhatville.[lxxxviii] The remarks were made in passing in a report that further attributed heroic qualities to the unfortunate victims of the accident and as a consequence was not free of an exaggerated use of language. However, it does indicate that there was a very great divide between blacks and whites in daily life.

The commentary that Bolamba wrote on the visit of King Boudewijn to Coquilhatville in 1955 is just as typical. In contradiction to his strong views a few years earlier, he now showed no trace of criticism any more in his description of the town. The new black neighbourhoods here were suddenly “une jolie agglomération en croisssance“, Coquilhatville as a whole was “une des villes les plus exubérantes du Congo Belge“. The editor-in-chief of La Voix had followed and reported on the whole royal progress. He was obviously gripped by the general enthusiasm, brought about by the propaganda around the monarch’s visit, and that seemed to have infected his reporting.

Finally, Bolamba’s reaction to an article by Joseph Lomboto, on the materialism to which some women (the wives of évolués) were subject was typical of the values held by the paper. The author reported the existence of a number of associations of Congolese women, which kept themselves busy with the cultivation of a certain material living standard: “I have learnt from a trustworthy source that there is an association of women and young girls called ‘pourries de sous’ (the ‘filthy’ rich), who boast of wearing new clothes every Sunday. Yet, by what means can they pay for a new piece of such expensive cotton each week, if not by surrendering to that debase trade that is prostitution?” Bolamba also added in his commentary: “For Coquilhatville I would notably refer to the association ‘Misses Millionaires’, newly established, that is made up solely of black women, who are the housekeepers for the Europeans. The latter do not want any contact with other women from the city and seek to establish a perfectly homogenous group in which the members share the same desires and needs. All these women dress in identical clothes, have bicycles of the same make and colour, etc. In short they do everything in their power to be distinguished from the masses. Yet is this distinction necessary or even desirable? Is the fact that it is sought not in itself prejudicial to the most elementary morals? And the spirit that pervades this association and the showy luxury of the members constitute sufficient elements to justify its suppression.“[lxxxix]

On the one hand, this text forms another illustration of the fact that Bolamba had obviously assimilated certain Western values very well. It definitely shows that he had the tendency to take strongly moralising standpoints. On the other hand the example given perfectly illustrates the mechanism the évolués were also susceptible to: the formation of groups and the tendency to cut themselves off and set themselves above other groups of theoretical equals. What Bolamba here almost contemptuously defined as the enthusiasms of a group of housekeepers, who wanted to feel they were better than other Congolese women, obviously applied equally well to himself. All the attempts, displayed here, to describe, evaluate, analyse and consequently control the situation of others, were equally a means of winning a position in colonial society for himself. Because of their strongly opinionated content it seems obvious from these articles that Bolamba (and the others) did not notice that at the time.

4.2.3. Observations and discussions on education
Over the course of the years, local education was also discussed a few times. In 1953 Gabriël Baelenge wrote an overview article on the education in the Equatorial Province. He remarked in it that education was distributed very unevenly across the land area of the province and that the young people who studied further afield often took account in their choice of the nearness of one or another establishment. The north of the province, the Ubangi-district, was the best provided with establishments, with one junior seminary, two teacher training colleges and an agricultural vocational school. Coquilhatville, in the western part of the province, had a teacher training college, a secondary school and a junior seminary. In the Tshuapa area (to the east of Coquilhatville) there was nothing. It was obvious to the author that this uneven spread had a negative influence on the employment market.[xc] Especially for people who went to work for the state, and sometimes had to move house, it was not easy to find good schooling for their children. Baelenge referred to the fact, obviously generally true in the colony, that children were not allowed to go to school in a place where they had no family living. More had to be done with boarding schools and he considered the argument that the Congolese were not prepared to pay for them as being incorrect.

A contribution such as this makes it clear that the educated Congolese were primarily concerned with the question of how they could fit in with their ‘new’ community (that of the colonists). They had been to school, had an education and a diploma in demand with the Europeans. They also wanted to make their contribution to the community, but then they were faced with practical problems such as these. The question is naturally whether something like this was possible in any case at that time. The financial argument was not really a problem there. During the 1940s, the MSC had themselves toyed with the idea of charging school fees, but at that time it was obviously not appropriate. The school regulations did not mention anything about droits de scolarité. The 1948 school programme included the application of a rather broad subsidy arrangement. It also seems logical to assume that in this context there was no room for alternative financing. However, from inspection reports from the early 1950s it certainly seems that school fees were in fact sometimes charged. The inspector made no fuss about it, which indicates that it was acceptable practice.[xci] However, even if the parents were able to pay for the education of their children and also wanted to do so, there were other obstacles. The organisation and structure of the Belgian Congo with its very large area did not permit education to be organised in the short term in a way that allowed all wishes to be fulfilled.

In fact, Bolamba hardly mentioned education in his travel report for 1950. He mainly discussed the schools of the Brothers, which he – not surprisingly, considering his own educational history – called “d’excellents pédagogues“. The MSC were only mentioned in connection with their novitiate in Bamanya. In a contribution from 1954 he did consider some questions of content more deeply. The missionaries taught ‘a little’ too much Lonkundo to the young. Bolamba was obviously aware of the discussions on the use of language, and referred to it incidentally: “All kinds of arguments have been put forward to explain this. Only those who forget that the Congolese do not ignore anything of their maternal language are convinced of this preference.”[xcii] The girls were taught as good as no French. “Even in Coquilhatville, those who complete the courses at the domestic school are unable to put a few words of French together.” That was heavily criticised, but only because the future housewives would feel inferior to their husbands and this could threaten the proper functioning of the family. He also complained of the moral degeneracy of the young on this occasion. The odd thing is that Bolamba and others in general took on the role of the ‘elite’ and emphasised a sort of pride and a sort of identification as a group, but that they also criticised évolués just as strongly. On the one hand they thought that they were on the right track, that ‘evolving’ was a necessary and morally responsible employment and that this also happened, but at the same time they gave out signals that in reality things were not proceeding so perfectly. Bolamba liked to use the word évoluant, to show that one had not yet reached the final goal.

In the late 1950s some more critical voices could be heard in connection with education. A certain Norbert Mpako reported the problems with which the inhabitants of Monkote were confronted in education in 1956:[xciii] “There are no school institutions in Monkoto. Young children have to travel 324 km to Wafanya where there is a primary school run by the Sacred Heart missionaries and where the courses are taught by religious missionaries. There are rural schools in our territory but their number is negligible. In addition, the lessons taught there are neither efficient nor profitable for good basic culture.”[xciv] In addition a frustration with the rural schools became apparent here: “The rural schools that have multiplied so happily are only a trick of the eye. The pupils who attend are of all ages and, consequently, they are not all capable of tackling the primary subjects.” It was again pointed out that it did not make much sense to send the children to the big city, because of the “politique de refoulement” that was generally applied. The article clearly touched a sensitive nerve because a few months later a reaction, signed by four people, was published. The authors accused Mpako of not having been to Monkoto for over ten years and that his article was much too negative on the attitude of the coloniser and the state of the region.

Mpako’s article started a real polemic. The arguments used in this, tell a lot about the thinking of the évolués concerned, the attitude of the Congolese in general and the position of the editorial staff of La Voix. An argument against Mpako was that he did not know the current situation he was criticising. He was said not to have been in the area for a long time. The distance from Monkoto to Wafanya was also reduced to about 50 kilometres (which was correct). This does raise the suspicion that the 350 kilometres from Mpako’s article was at the least a ‘literary’ exaggeration. Concerning the school, it was pointed out that there were at least three central schools in the immediate neighbourhood of Monkoto, of which two were Protestant, and also a whole series of rural schools. It was also remarked that the workforce in the region was large enough, something that Mpako had also denied, and that the colonists were certainly not so unfriendly and racist as it would appear from his article.

The editorial staff (Bolamba) supported the authors in this dispute and condemned Mpako because he had spouted criticism à la légère. Mpako reacted, and his reaction was published almost a year later. He conceded that he had not been in the area for more than ten years, but said that the criticism he made was not less valid as a result. He considered the fact that there was no secondary education in the region a particularly sore point, which his opponents did not mention. In a last article yet another writer, Jean-François Iyeky, gave his opinion. He approached the subject in a more balanced way, took a reconciliatory tone towards the missionaries and the territorial officials but still observed that there certainly was a shortage of educational facilities in the area. The remarks he added to this showed more fundamental frustrations concerning the nature of the education offered: “And who would not want a school with 4 to 6 post-primary years in Boende, the district capital? We are against schools where the pupils are more gardeners or builders than students. And besides, not anybody who aspires to be a schoolmaster, also is one. There are experts in education. They are expensive? Nobody denies it! Nevertheless, the problem is there!“[xcv]

Iyeky was obviously greatly concerned with this question, and could also place it in a wider perspective. In a contribution published a few months later in La Voix, he returned to the problem of education (or the lack of it). In it he assumed, like the MSC, that it was necessary to keep young people in the region and to combat the exodus from the countryside. The foundation of new local schools was a first vital step in this. He did not, however, discuss the contradiction with the observations made previously concerning the nature of education.[xcvi]

Conclusions
At around the time this polemic was underway, an article was published by Thomas Bessembe, who also came from the Equatorial Province.[xcvii] He reacted to an article that had previously appeared about a chef de secteur in another area.[xcviii] Bessembe made a strong plea for the appointment of sufficiently trained chefs. Really he was referring here to the problem of the exodus from the countryside. Many évolués, he said, were quite ready to go back to their village or area of origin, but they were put off by the lack of understanding for them in the villages and that was obvious from the attitude of the chiefs. He defined the aim of his own article as: requesting the authorities to send a well-educated and progressive chief to his area, so that all the problems could also be solved there. Then, after all, the évolués from the town would want to return to the countryside and help develop economic activity there. The article ended with a question directed at the colonists, who, in the best tradition, were still referred to as “civilisateurs” in the article. This was typical of the feeling in this group. On the one hand, the time had come according to the évolués themselves “tant attendu par tous les Congolais“: Congo was “in full development”. But on the other hand the évolués could still not stand on their own feet, or so they assumed. The conclusion of this development still had to come from above, from the colonists.

This message came from Bolamba and his colleagues, the editors and writers of La Voix, the group which must be considered as the most successful in terms of social standing. After all, they were the people the colonists had allowed to take the positions, which entailed the most risk and therefore also the greatest responsibility. Indeed being the mouthpiece for the Congolese was an immensely important task in a context in which their voice could hardly be heard. It was also obvious that no revolutionaries or idealists could be chosen for this but they had to be very moderate, docile people. They had to be the best pupils of the class, those who had been exemplary at school. Bolamba himself would keep it up to the last issue of his periodical, in his pleas for moderation and caution, but just as much in the style in which he put the message forward. The picture fitted exactly. Undoubtedly, the évolués themselves were the most important result of the educational system installed in the colony. They proved this in their attitude and reactions in La Voix. They had made the values they had been given their own. One of the most important values was respect for (and dependence on) a higher authority. They had accepted that salvation would come from upbringing and education according to the western model, as propagated by the missionaries and once on that path it was difficult to turn back.

The contributions extensively referred to in this chapter nonetheless showed “that something was wrong”. Often subconsciously, they conceded that they had been set on a road with a dead end and that the development in this sense was a false ideal the coloniser had given them. The debate on moral values, that was fought out passionately at times gave the impression that development under the influence of the western example was in fact not so positively evaluated as it looked at first sight. In my opinion that can be interpreted in two ways. Above all it concedes that Christian morals as a background of “civilisation” were very well integrated in the world image of the évolués. Fulfilling this moral standard was probably one of the ways they could distinguish themselves and still be more evolved than the others. In addition it was probably also a way of venting dissatisfaction about the existing situation and these discussions functioned in many cases as a sort of lightning rod for the real problems.

Demands were formulated to solve all those things that weren’t right. These demands could only go in one direction. They could never be capable of imagining that an alternative existed to the path they had taken. It would have been outrageous to imagine a return to a classical, traditional model of society. That can especially be seen in the authors’ attitudes in La Voix. The general tenor of the contributions evolved from an almost general gratitude towards the benefits of “civilisation”, to a steadily growing questioning of colonial society and the status of the Congolese in it. In any event this was intrinsically linked with the foundation of the periodical that precisely was meant to respond to the growing dissatisfaction about the existing social situation. Increasingly, demands were formulated and without exception these went in the direction of further emancipation, the further continuation of the process that had been started. The demands for a further development of and a higher participation in the educational system fitted within this. These two naturally had to go together. After all, education was the motor of this evolution, at least at the beginning. Indeed, the initial reason for attending school lay in the improvement of the circumstances of one’s own life that one intended to be able to bring about. That is one of the elements that comes out very clearly in the memories of former pupils of the mission schools which are central to the last chapter.

NOTES
[i] Gille, A. (1957). L’enseignement organisé au Congo belge par les pouvoirs publics ou avec leurs concours. In Belgique d’Outre-Mer, XII, 273, p. 909-913.
[ii] From 1956 a new structure was accepted, consisting of three times two years, and it was announced that the curriculum must increasingly correspond with the Belgian syllabus 1936. From 1958 that became the 1958 syllabus. Kita, P. (1982). Colonisation et enseignement. p. 230-231.
[iii] Pol Georis was a colleague of Sylvain De Coster, Professor of Education and Educational Psychology at the Free University of Brussels. During the 1960s he published a number of works on education in the Congo/Zaïre, in the context of CEMUBAC, the Centre Médicale de l’Université de Bruxelles Au Congo.
[iv] The periodical mentioned two “publishers”: the CEPSI in Elisabethville, and the Institut de Pédagogie of the University of Lovanium.
[v] Bolamba, A.R. (1955). Brillants résultats à Lovanium. In La Voix du Congolais, XI, 113, p. 678. Colin, M. (1958). Proclamation des résultats universitaires à Lovanium. In La Voix du Congolais, XIV, 150, p. 570.
[vi] Missine, L.E. (1968). L’institut facultaire de psychologie et de pédagogie. Son organisation et ses recherches. Kinshasa: Lovanium; Universiteiten van Belgisch-Congo en van Ruanda Urundi, information brochure of the administration. Brussels, 1958.
[vii] Kimba, E. (1957). Ce que les Congolais attendent de l’enseignement du Français. In Revue Pédagogique Congolais, n°9, September 1957, p. V-IX. L’Essor du Congo was published in Elisabethville and was one of the three important newspapers in the Congo (besides L’Avenir and Le Courrier d’Afrique). It was traditionally a conservatively-minded newspaper, although after the war some space was given to different opinions about the social situation in the Congo. The newspaper was described as follows in a study of the press in the Congo from 1957: “L’Essor du Congo, conservative, may be classed to the right, perhaps to the extreme right.” See Van Bol, J.M. (1957). La presse quotidienne au Congo Belge. Bruxelles: La pensée catholique. p. 81.
[viii] Lumpungu, F. (1958). La valeur pédagogique du jeu. In Revue pédagogique congolaise, n°12, July 1958, p. XXVI-XXX.
[ix] Kimponto, A. (1958). La fonction du moniteur de la ville et l’influence qu’il doit exercer. In Revue pédagogique congolaise, n°11, March 1958, p. XIX-XXII.
[x] One of these was the later general and president José Désiré Mobutu.
[xi] Sheikh Anta Diop (1923-1986). A Senagalese scientist (he studied mathematics, nuclear physics and philosophy and was also known as an archaeologist and historian). Diop was one of the African intellectuals who went to study in Paris in the context of the French assimilationist educational ideas. From 1946 to 1960 he studied and worked primarily in Paris, where he defended a doctorate in literature with the theme “L’unité culturelle de l’Afrique noire”. At that time he also published a number of articles on African history and its perception in Europe. Diop was also one of the advocates of African independence, but was excluded from politics for the greatest part of his life. Zorgbibe, C. (2004). Senghor and Sheik Anta Diop or the restoration of African conscience. At www.african-geopolitics.org
[xii] Jadot, J.M. (1959). Les écrivains africains du Congo belge et du Ruanda-Urundi. Une histoire – Un bilan – Des problèmes. Académie royale des Sciences coloniales. Classe des sciences morales et politiques. Mémoires In-8°. Nouvelle Série, 17, 2. Bruxelles: ARSOM. Remarkably enough, a text by a Mongo-teacher from Boende on land laws among the Mongo is also in the same publication. The text, which was sent to the Academie by Boelaert and translated by him into French, won the annual prize awarded by the Academie.
[xiii] Justin Bomboko (°1928) studied political science at the Université Libre de Bruxelles. He founded the Unimo (Union des Mongo) in 1960 in Coquilhatville. In the 1960s he was twice Minister of Foreign Affairs, and now is vice-president of the senate (October 2003). Ganshof Van der Meersch, W. (1960). Congo mai-juin 1960. Rapport du ministre chargé des affaires générales en Afrique. Bruxelles, s.n.; Ferrand, I. (2001). Congo 1955-1960. De aanloop naar de onafhankelijkheid. Een analyse van de berichtgeving in drie Vlaamse kranten. Masters’ thesis Universiteit Gent. On www.ethesis.net
[xiv] Bolela, A. (1971). Un aperçu de la presse congolaise écrite par les noirs de 1885 à 1960. In Congo-Afrique, XII, 1, p. 12.
[xv]  Vinck, H. (2000). Périodiques coloniaux en langues africaines dans les archives Aequatoria. On www.aequatoria.be/archives_project. Edited version of the article “La presse à Mbandaka”, appeared in Vinck, H. (ed.) (1990). Mbandaka, hier et aujourd’hui. Eléments d’historiographie locale. Etudes Aequatoria 10. Bamanya: Centre Aequatoria. p. 227-234. [original in French]
[xvi] Ibidem.
[xvii] In total 170 issues were published.
[xviii] Davier, J. (1955). Souvenirs d’anniversaire. In La Voix du Congolais, XI, 106, p. 6-16.
[xix]< Kadima-Tshimanga, B.D. (1983). L’univers socio-politique de l’évolué congolais entre 1955 et 1959. Une étude du vocabulaire de “La Voix du Congolais”. Unpublished doctoral thesis. Paris, Nouvelle Sorbonne. p. 26.
[xx] Tamba, J. (1946). Nos écrits et leur but. In La Voix du Congolais, II, 10, p. 416-418. [original in French]
[xxi] This other publication is described as follows by Van Bol: “un illustré, qui poursuit avec bonheur sa mission d’éducation populaire.” [original quotation in French]
[xxii] Bolamba, A.R. (1959). In La Voix du Congolais, XV, 163, p. 575-576. [original quotation in French]
[xxiii] Kadima-Tshimanga, B.D. (1983). L’univers socio-politique de l’évolué congolais entre 1955 et 1959. p. 76.
[xxiv] Bolamba, Antoine Roger (1913-2002). Born in Boma but a Mongo by origin. He attended school with the Brothers of the Christian Schools, continued his studies at the Ecole pour Assistants Médicaux in Kintambo (near Kinshasa), and worked for a number of years as a clerk for Foréami (Fonds Reine Elisabeth pour l’Assistance Médicale aux Indigènes). He became editor-in-chief of La Voix in 1946. In 1956 he was a cabinet assistant of Buisseret for a year. The obituaries written on the occasion of his death on 9 July 2002 emphasised his literary qualities, although mainly one work was referred to, his bundle of poems “Esanzo”, with which in 1955 he became the first Congolese to receive international recognition for his literary work. After this Bolamba had a short political career. He was appointed to the post of Secretary of State for Cultural Affairs by Patrice Lumumba and later he was Minister of Information in the administration of Cyrille Adula (1960-1964) for a short time. Subsequently, he fulfilled all sorts of positions in the entourage of Mobutu. After zairisation, Bolamba adopted the name “Lokolé” to replace his baptismal name. See MMC (2002). Obituary: La Rdc orpheline du doyen de ses écrivains: A-R. Bolamba disparaît à 89 ans! On http://64.224.66.88/public/congo/pages/nouvellet.asp?nid=274. Concerning Bolamba’s literary work see above all Gérard, A. (1977). Etudes de littérature africaine francophone. Dakar/Abidjan: Les Nouvelles Editions Africaines, p. 97-114.
[xxv] Eloko a Nongo Otshudiema (1975). Les structures inconscientes de “La Voix du Congolais” (1959). Les cahiers du CEDAF, 2/3. Bruxelles: CEDAF.
[xxvi] Bolamba, A.R. (1959). In La Voix du Congolais, XV, 163, p. 575-576.
[xxvii] Bolamba, A.R. (1948). Editorial: Relations entre blancs et noirs. In La Voix du Congolais, 23, p. 53-54.
[xxviii] Bolamba, A.R. (1948). Editorial: Colour Bar? In La Voix du Congolais, 24, p. 101-103.
[xxix] Bolamba, A.R. (1949). Les problèmes de l’évolution de la femme noire. Léopoldville: Editions de l’Essor du Congo.
[xxx] Ibidem, p. 12.
[xxxi] Ibidem, p. 33-34.
[xxxii] Ibidem, p. 48-49.
[xxxiii] See on this matter Ceuppens, B. (2003). Onze Congo? Congolezen over de kolonisatie. Leuven: Davidsfonds. p. 46-55. She claims that this not necessarily meant that men did not want to eat with their wives or families but that according to the traditions they were expected to eat in public.
[xxxiv] Ibidem, p. 148-149. [original quotation in French]
[xxxv] Ibidem, p. 167.
[xxxvi] Ditungunuka, F. (1954). Les Jalons de notre progrès. In La Voix du Congolais, X, 95, p. 96-97.
[xxxvii]  Mobé, A.M. (1952). De l’éducation de la masse. In La Voix du Congolais, VIII, 77, p. 473-477.
[xxxviii] Ngandu, E. (1948). L’école instruit mais la famille forme la caractère. In La Voix du Congolais, IV, p. 242-245.
[xxxix] Bongongo, L. (1948). De l’éducation de nos enfants. In La Voix du Congolais, IV, 33, p. 501-504.
[xl] Mabanza, J. (1951). Elever soi-même ses enfants. In La Voix du Congolais, VII, 68, p. 602-606.
[xli] Landu, M. (1952). Conseils aux éducateurs. In La Voix du Congolais, VIII, 72, p. 132-133.
xlii] Iloo, D. (1952). A propos de l’article “Conseils aux éducateurs”. In La Voix du Congolais, VIII, 79, p. 594-596.
[xliii] Ngbongbo, G.-A. (1953). Parents, travaillez avec les Educateurs. In La Voix du Congolais, IX, 88, p. 456-457.
[xliv] Bolamba, A.R. (1951). A propos des internats pour enfants Congolais. In La Voix du Congolais, VII, 60, p. 128-130.
[xlv] Nkonga, L. (1957). De l’éducation et de l’instruction des enfants. In La Voix du Congolais, XIII, 141, p. 945-946.
[xlvi] Luvuvamu, B. (1958). Quand l’école et la famille formeront-elles l’unité au Congo? In La Voix du Congolais, XIV, 150, p. 552-553.
[xlvii] Katamée, L. (1959). A propos de l’éducation des filles congolaises. In La Voix du Congolais, XV, 154, p. 8-9.
[xlviii] Kangudie, P. (1948). Des écoles ménagères pour nos filles. In La Voix du Congolais, III, 37, p. 141-143.
[xlix] Vumuka, J.J.W. (1957). A propos de l’école des filles à Boma. In La Voix du Congolais, XIII, 140, p. 904-905.
[l] Delanaye, [Père] (1958). A propos de l’école des filles de Boma. In La Voix du Congolais, XIV, p. 168-169.
[li] Iyolo, E. (1957). L’école doit favoriser la culture intellectuelle de la femme congolaise. In La Voix du Congolais, XIII, 140, p. 846-847.
[lii] Iloo, D. (1951). Quelques réflexions sur le rôle de l’instituteur. In La Voix du Congolais, VII, 68, p. 598-601.
[liii] L’échotier (1947). In La Voix du Congolais, III, 20, p. 881.
[liv] Lundulla, V. (1956). Enseignez le français. In La Voix du Congolais, XII, 122, p. 327-328.
[lv]  Iyeky, J.-F. (1956). Nous voulons le français dans les écoles. In La Voix du Congolais, XII, 127, p. 701-703.
[lvi] Bulangi, A.-J. (1957). L’enseignement à Kalima. In La Voix du Congolais, XIII, 131, p. 145.
[lvii] Okoka, D. (1958). A propos de l’école des moniteurs de Tshumbe Ste-Marie. In La Voix du Congolais, XIV, 143, p. 120-121. Mabanza, J. (1957). Le problème de l’enseignement dans la région de Kasi. In La Voix du Congolais, XIII, 136, p. 543-544.
[lviii] Bolamba, A.R. (1956). Le problème des langues dans nos écoles. In La Voix du Congolais, XII, 119, p. 85-88.
[lix] Ilunga, L.G. (1945). L’enseignement dans le Congo de demain. In La voix du Congolais, I, 5, p. 175-176.
[lx] Moukeba, J.-D. (1950). Est-il prématuré de parler de l’enseignement pre-universitaire pour Congolais? In La Voix du Congolais, VI, 48, p. 149-150.
[lxi] Bolamba, A.R. (1953). L’expérience universitaire au Congo. In La Voix du Congolais, IX, 91, p. 655.
[lxii] Bolamba, A.R. (1954). Enseignement universitaire au Congo Belge. In La Voix du Congolais, X, 97, p. 243.
[lxiii] Bolamba, A.R. (1954). Après les déclarations ministérielles. In La Voix du Congolais, X, 100, p. 513.
[lxiv] Masudi, S.T. (1957). A propos des écoles dans le Maniema. In La Voix du Congolais, XIII, 138, p. 687; Ngobongo, G.-A. (1956). Les qualités d’un bon instituteur. In La Voix du Congolais, XII, 122, p. 337-338.
[lxv] Zunbgu-Kanda, G. (1957). Quel sera l’avenir des universitaires congolais? In La Voix du Congolais, XIII, 139, p. 763-764.
[lxvi] Salumu, B. (1958). Les écoles secondaires au Congo Belge. In La Voix du Congolais, XIV, 148, p. 485-486.
[lxvii] Ntamba, L. (1958). A côté des universités, il faut multiplier les écoles secondaires et normales. In La Voix du Congolais, XIV, 152, p. 678-679.
[lxviii] Bolamba, A.R. (1958). Les étudiants africains devraient effectuer des voyages dans les pays de l’Europe. In La Voix du Congolais, XIV, 148, p. 486.
[lxix] It is unclear who it related to precisely, but from the vocabulary used it may be deduced that it was the head of the relevant government department or someone in a similar position.
[lxx] Colin, M. (1954). Une brillante réussite. In La Voix du Congolais, X, 102, p. 709.
[lxxi] Bijvoorbeeld Colin, M. (1954). Un futur régent littéraire en Nouveau sujet congolais à l’Université de Louvain. In La Voix du Congolais, X, 105, p. 880-881.
[lxxii]La Voix du Congolais no. 119 (1956).
[lxxiii] Bolamba, A.R. (1952). L’enseignement pour Africains au Congo Belge. In La Voix du Congolais, VIII, 73, p. 188-203.
[lxxiv] L’échotier (1953). Enseignement missionnaire. In La Voix du Congolais, IX, 92, p. 759.
[lxxv] Ngandu, E. (1946). Pourquoi le jeune noir fuit son village? In La Voix du Congolais, II, 12, p. 492-495.
[lxxvi] Baniengumuna, A.J. (1956). L’enseignement dans le territoire de Luozi. In La Voix du Congolais, XII, 128, p. 783-785.
[lxxvii] Bolamba, A.R. (1951). Chronique. In La Voix du Congolais, VII, 61, p. 207.
[lxxviii] Bolamba, A.R. (1950). Impressions de voyage. In La Voix du Congolais, VI, 49, p. 212-214.
[lxxix] Bolamba, A.R. (1949). Activités des Cercles. In La Voix du Congolais, V, 36, p. 127.
[lxxx] Bolamba, A.R. (1950). Activités des Cercles. In La Voix du Congolais, VI, 48, p. 185.
[lxxxi] Bolamba, A.R. (1947). Activités des Cercles. In La Voix du Congolais, III, 21, p. 934.
[lxxxii] Bolamba, A.R. (1951). Activités des Cercles. In La Voix du Congolais, VII, 66, p. 526.
[lxxxiii] For example a certain Mr Mosikwa from Boende, reported during 1952. In La Voix du Congolais, VIII, 70, p. 56. See also number 73, p. 245.
[lxxxiv] Bolamba, A.R. (1952). Ephémérides. In La Voix du Congolais, VIII, 80, p. 703.
[lxxxv] Iyeky, J.F. (1957). Appel aux amis de Coquilhatville. In La Voix du Congolais, XIII, 133, p. 306-307.
[lxxxvi] Bolamba, A.R. (1949). Chronique. In La Voix du Congolais, V, 35, p. 72.
[lxxxvii] Bolamba, A.R. (1949). Chronique. In La Voix du Congolais, V, 35, p. 70-71.
[lxxxviii] Iloo, D. (1950). Coquilhatville en deuil. In La Voix du Congolais, VI, 54, p. 548-549.
[lxxxix] Lomboto, J. (1950). Veillons sur la jeunesse. In La Voix du Congolais, VI, 54, p. 518-520.
[xc] Baelenge, G. (1953). L’enseignement dans la province de l’Equateur. In La Voix du Congolais, IX, 82, p. 41-42.
[xci] Africa Archive Brussels, electronic inventory, no. 12.452, Commentaire rédigé à la suite de l’inspection d’écoles du Vicariat de Coq de février à juin 1951 par l’inspecteur-assistant, ff., C. Eloye.
[xcii]  Bolamba, A.R. (1955). Coquilhatville en 1954. In La Voix du Congolais, XI, 106, p. 88-105.
[xciii] Monkoto is to the south east of Wafanya and consequently to the very south of the mission region of the MSC.
[xciv] Mpako, N. (1956). Problèmes complexes de la vie des habitants du territoire de Monkoto. In La Voix du Congolais, XII, 127, p. 708-710.
[xcv] Iyeky, J.F. (1957). Vers l’éveil de Monkoto. In La Voix du Congolais, XIII, 141, p. 941-943.
[xcvi]< Iyeky, J.F. (1958). La Tshuapa, mon district. In La Voix du Congolais, XIV, 143, p. 122-124.
[xcvii] Bessembe, T.C. (1957). Tous les chefs de secteurs doivent au moins être des intellectuels. In La Voix du Congolais, XIII, 137, p. 590-591.
[xcviii] The Congolese filled these positions in the context of the indirect administration that was introduced even before the war. The secteur was essentially the lowest administrative level, above the chefferies (villages).

Music is a ‘woman’, and intuitive creative management of life is more of a feminine attribute. Music is a communion, a social communion that nourishes spirituality, and manages socialisation during public events. These are some of the philosophical and concrete rationalizations that guided the indigenous categorization of an extraordinary performance-composer irrespective of gender or age as a mother musician as per indigenous terminological evidence in Africa. A composer gestates and gives birth to sonic phenomena.

Musical meaning has been discussed from the indigenous perspective as being based on the factors of musical sense, psychical tolerance and musical intention. The practice of performance-composition has also been identified as processing the realisation and approval of musical meaning as per context. Central to the philosophy of musical meaning as a society’s conceptualization of creative genius are the creative personalities who interpret and extend the musical factors as well as the musical facts of a culture. Such specialists are sensitive to the socio-musical factors contingent on a musical context at the same time as they are the repositories of the theory of composition in a musical arts tradition. Socio-musical factors here categorize those non-musical circumstances of a music-making situation that inform the architecture of a performance-composition; while musical facts are the essential elements of creative configurations that furnish musical arts theory.

The concept of mother musicianship, where found, no doubt varies from one indigenous musical arts culture area to another, and will be defined according to how a society values, utilizes and regulates the musical arts as a cultural institution. Although reference will be made to concepts of musicianship in a few related culture areas, the main purpose here is to examine the concept in the Igbo context.

Qualities of mother musicianship

The Igbo mother musician must be cognizant of, and acknowledged in the organization and execution of the art of contextual composition. This definition hinges on four key terms: Cognizance, Acknowledgement, Organization and Execution in the musical management of life and events.

Cognizance
Cognizance defines the ability to formulate and communicate musical sense in a culture’s medium of musical expression subject to the society’s cultural sonic references and psychical tolerance. Such a performer is then a specialized musical artiste. The Igbo theory of practical musicianship recognizes the following levels of expertise that qualify categories of practitioners:

– Onye egwu for any artist who is competently engaged in any of the indigenous creative and performance arts Onye isi egwu, for a leader of a performing group.

When exceptional capability is being assessed, specifically descriptive metaphors are used to denote:

– Onye nwe egwu – a star, the ‘owner’, the embodiment of expertise in a particular musical arts type under consideration;

– Di egwu – the ‘husband’, maestro of a music or dance type;

– Onye ji nkpu egwu – the ‘mystifying wizard’, the ultimate reference in expertise and knowledge.

Much of the literature on African music and musicality tend to imply that everybody in African, south of the Sahara is a dancer and a musician; and that Africans, generally, are exceptionally rhythmic. Without intending to hold brief for all Africa, it is pertinent to observe that everybody with African genetic instincts has a latent capability to dance or play music, and has a secure sense of rhythm. These are cultural rather than automatic African biological phenomena. Experiences deriving from many years of teaching music in the University of Nigeria, Nsukka, Nigeria, reveal that an Igbo person could be as baffled by the configurations of Igbo music and dance rhythms as anybody from any other culture marooned in the Igbo music complexity. But such student-cases are usually Igbo students who are born and brought up in the contemporary urban Igbo environment. Such an environment of upbringing does not expose them to the peculiar rhythms of the Igbo cultural activities. Their introduction to structured rhythmic activities starts with Western church hymn tunes, modern popular music and simple Western classical music that lack indigenous rhythmic sensitization of mind and body. As a result, they arrive at the University to start grappling with the realities of Igbo indigenous music and rhythm for the first time as performers. I discovered that apart from boasting Igbo nationality and language, I was dealing with foreigners to Igbo sense of rhythm. Some eventually achieve progress because of awakened genetic consciousness after a period of adult enculturation in the university. This is equally true of Yoruba, Efik and other music students from other Nigerian societies with similar backgrounds, as one cannot really talk of Igbo-specific rhythmic configurations. The patterns of deploying the body in ordinary activities of normal living inculcate the basic rhythmic instincts that become systematically structured into music and dance activities.

The phenomenon of African innate sense of rhythm as a specific cultural factor could be discussed as accruing from the distinctive patterns of movement naturally adopted for performing the habitual cultural activities of the indigenous life style that marks an African culture group.

Cultural rhythm
It is necessary to examine some cultural foundations for Igbo musical arts expressions. A child of, maybe, five years carries on her, or his, back a toddler of about one year. With her load she executes rhythmically organized steps and turns. At the same time she is gently jogging her/his body with its load, up and down in a different time-space motion. The exercise is expected to soothe a crying child to keep quite or maybe rocking a child to sleep. At other times the toddler clings to the back of the carrier without additional support while the carrier may be engaged in a dancing quiz-game that requires her to use her legs and hands in other intricate movements while the toddler is balanced and bobbed about on her [the carrier’s] torso. Thus there are three rhythmically poly-linear, but coordinated applications of the body parts of the carrier: the legs, the torso, and the hands.

Igbo boys and girls carry pots, baskets, firewood etc. on the head in indigenous societies. From the age of four or five when a child starts being useful around the house, she begins to carry loads appropriate to her size. The technique of carrying loads emphasizes balance and body symmetry. At the same time the style is intentionally an artistic-aesthetic exercise for children, although on rare occasions accidents may occur. The load is balanced on a soft pad on the head; and it is an artistic game to walk without holding the precious pot of water, for instance. To do this requires subtle adjustments of the parts of the body while ‘walk-dancing’ at a regular pace that could be faster than normal. The body is divided into four dimensions of coordinated but independent rhythmic planes: the legs, torso, hands and head. Even though the load should ordinarily be carried on the head supported with one or two hands, children prefer the game of keeping the hands off it, and balancing it with no other support than the rhythmic counterpoint of various parts of the body, the sight of which is quite supple and graceful.

When there are a number of children moving with loads on their heads it becomes a comparative game. If the load falls off by any fortuitous chance and breaks, you could cry to show that you are sorry, although that may not mitigate the scolding due to you when you arrive home with wet cheeks and a head-pad without load.

When cutting firewood, pounding, sweeping the compound, stamping mud for building a house etc., it is the same contrapuntal application and manipulation of multiple body rhythm. You do not have to sing unless you are in the mood. If you sing, it does not have to be a ‘pounding’ song or a ‘sweeping’ song. It could be a song from your dance group repertory, or a folk tale song, or any song selected from your entire culture’s repertory, or a spontaneous original composition to express your mood. If you sing, it is not necessarily because it promotes the activity of pounding, or that you are culturally required to supply a melody to the rhythm of pounding. It would be a contemplative celebration at a psychical level while executing the mechanical motions of pounding, for instance, at a physically coordinated level.

During the Second World War when Igbo men, women and children were command­eered to provide either the manpower or the economy that would help Britain, the colonial masters, win their ‘private’ war, Igbo women were most enthusiastic about the win-the-war economic exploitation of their time and energy. There was a drive for palm nut-cracking activity involving the women. For this exercise, they were organized as work gangs, although each person had to work independently and contribute the fruits of her labour to the common pool.

A propaganda song (Ex. 1a) was composed to promote, not necessarily the physical activity of cracking palm nut, rather, the psychological propaganda that they should deprive themselves in order that Britain should win the war. Although I was small at the time, we got involved, age notwithstanding, in the palm nut-cracking assignment. The so-called palm nut-cracking song, despite the appropriateness of the text, inhibited rather than promoted the physical activity. What is worse, it was in the character of a hymn tune, and could not be said to be an Igbo song, apart from the text. The text and melody of the song make the point:

Kpam! Kpam! Kpam! Kányi néti aku

(Kpam! Kpam! Kpam! We are cracking palm nuts)

Anyi néti nke anyi ga ele

(We are shelling so that we can sell)

Anyi etinugoli aku

(Even if we have shelled previously)

Anyi ga etiwanye ozo

(We will continue to contribute)

Ka’nyi welu dinu n’otu melie agha

(So that we will be united in order to win the war).

This is obviously a typical case of ‘work song’ that was introduced in the 1940’s probably in the belief that the African cannot work without song. It was not structured to the pulse and rhythm of the palm nut cracking routine, so it did not enhance the execution of the physical activity. It was, therefore, more useful for campaigns and for moving about in the house, or making clothes on a sewing machine.

Another ‘typical’ work song is that by the prisoners while cutting grass (Ex. 1b). In this instance the physical activity was structured to the song and its pulse and rhythm flow. But because it is not necessarily conceived to promote labour, it ensured that the prisoners spent more time dancing to the music, a healthy exercise, than in producing any impressive outcome from the manual labour. The grass-cutting motion occurs on the first beat of an eight-beat song cycle:

Onye suba achala onye suba

(Everybody cuts grass like every other person)

Onye akpona ibe ya onye ikoli

(Let nobody call his fellow a prisoner)

This ‘typical’ work song that has many versions, was probably intended to prompt the prisoners to cut grass to rhythm. The song is as old as the modern prisons in Igbo society, and is exclusive to prisoners although the Nigerian police band waxed a highlife dance music derivation of it.

The incidence of music in labour activities has so far been categorized as work music/song in ethnomusicological literature. Cultural terminologies as well as explanations by the music owners and users, at least in the culture area used as the model for this study, do not support such assumptions and classification. Hence there is the need to re-examine the concept of work music/song as well as the nature and utilitarian intentions of the corpus of indigenous music hitherto categorized as work music. There are music types associated with organized trade or labour groups. Such associational music may or may not be featured during the process and mechanics of production distinguishing a trade or labour specialisation. Rather, the music identifies the trade group or labour team as a social and common interest group (otu) without necessarily being of productive or structural significance if featured in labour situations. In other words the music is not necessarily ‘action or labour-facilitating music’ suited to the physical motions of production. It could be a mood music background affective at the psychological level of inspiration or anguish. It becomes inspirational music or song of suffering in its social or musical classification. The music corpus so far classified as work music/songs are distinctive of occupational groups/teams, and are, therefore associational, otu, music categories that give the groups/teams social identity. They are used and enjoyed primarily in celebrative or recreational contexts or otherwise as inspirational music incidental to other in-group interactions that could include the activities of production. The rhythm and texture of the music are not necessarily appropriate to the characteristic motions of labour that are, therefore, of little relevance in the conception, creation and making of the music. Work music, implying music conceived to enable the execution of the physical process of an activity, would thus seem to be a misperception of the social intentions as well as the utilitarian and creative dynamics of such music types. In fact some music items incidental to work situations, and which are thus classified as work music/songs, are music types conceived, created and performed for other social-cultural contexts. It is more appropriate to categorize trade/associational music, egwu otu, and inspirational music, which as such could be incidental to the labour activities of the owners and users of the music. Further sub-classifications would specify hunters’ music, farmers’ music, fishermen’s music, etc.

It is possible that other cultures may have what could be analyzed as music intended to aid manual labour. The Igbo, traditionally, have music while they work and not necessarily work music. A woman could sing the same song while she is cutting vegetables, pounding food, fetching water, washing dresses or dishes, breast-feeding a baby etc. The tune could be original or could be a popular ballad. The rhythms of pounding, sweeping, mud-stamping, grinding, etc., are work rhythms, often intrinsically irregular and not specifically structured to musical rhythms. An inspired person could superimpose a tune on work-rhythms to suit the mood or feelings in the same way as a person could sing while taking a bath without categorizing the music as bath music.

The few examples discussed distinguish cultural rhythm from ‘work’ music, and illustrate what I mean by the fundamental patterns of rhythmic cognition needed to accomplish the cultural normal activities of the Igbo life style. In other words the character of Igbo work-rhythms inform the Igbo rhythm sensibility, which is not exclusively musical, and may exhibit cultural peculiarity. In a music-making and dancing situation every Igbo person has the cultural sensitization to coordinate multi-dimensional body rhythms, which Kauffman (1980:402) has alluded to, when interpreting a given action-rhythm intention of a style/type of music. Given a chance, he could also perform, with sustained regularity, basic rhythmic patterns on a music instrument. These are extensions of innate sense of motion, and additionally, an acquired cultural sense of rhythm or cultural motor behaviour, which are notionally musical without necessarily being a phenomenon exclusive to music making. This capability cannot, and should not, be interpreted to mean that everybody is a competent dancer or a musician. In other words, every Igbo, by virtue of acquiring Igbo cultural rhythm, can demonstrate the fundamental rhythm-sense ordinarily expected of what is peculiarly Igbo in music and dance. But to become what could be categorized as a competent Igbo dancer or musician requires a level of expertise much beyond the common advantages of cultural rhythm.

Cross-cultural references
Every human person is naturally, even if not culturally, musical. Some writers contend, albeit vaguely, that every African is a musician, while others are a bit more cautious. Thus Alakija (1993) proposes that every African is gifted to be a composer. A logical extension of the proposal would make everybody in the world a possibly, gifted composer by virtue of being a notionally musical human. Messenger (1958:22) credits the Anang culture group of Cross River State in Nigeria, who are ethnic neighbours of the Igbo, with claiming that ‘every one can dance and sing well’. In another publication Messenger also reports that the Anang

… assume that under ordinary circumstances any person can learn to sing, dance act, weave, carve, play musical instruments, and recite folklore in a manner considered exceptional by unbiased Western aestheticians, and Anang culture rewards in numerous ways the acquisition of these abilities (Messenger 1973: 125)

Messenger’s report can be accepted only on the basis of discussing standard capabilities although there are problems with his view that the assessment of ‘a manner considered exceptional’ has to be from the perspective of ‘unbiased Western aestheticians’. He poses the paradoxical situation in which ‘culture rewards in numerous ways the acquisition of these [artistic] abilities’ in a culture where everybody is able and free to achieve ‘exceptional’ artistic excellence.

I conducted fieldwork in Anang in 1967, and I learned from observations and interviews in Abak that everyone can no longer dance and sing well probably for reasons of disabled cultural upbringing. I was specifically directed to meet three musicians the villagers recommended highly. One of them, Umo, satisfied the concept of a mother musician as already discussed in this study. He was an expert performer on the xylophone. He was an exceptional performer on Ekong music. And he performed on the row of open-ended tuned membrane drums, four in a row, used in Ekpo music. He was accompanied by a group of young percussionists whom he conducted with body signs as well as musical cues. The percussionists played open-ended membrane drums hung on poles, two or three players to one drum, each playing with two drums sticks, and all combining to produce a barrage of mono-toned patterns. In addition to conducting the ensemble, Umo directed, through his tuned drums, the dance-drama acts of every ekpo spirit manifest artist. The spirit manifest, mis-perceptually termed masquerades, acted their danced-drama anecdotes in turns, one after the other. Umo was open to spontaneous criticism by the cultural audience, but was such a confident artist that he did not mind bluffing occasionally.

During a second field trip to Anang in 1967, I took along a class of music students from the Music Department of the University of Nigeria, Nsukka, to meet Umo and observe him direct the ekpo danced-drama from his music stand. Umo was so happy at seeing us that he drank himself tipsy before the performance. He was so tipsy that he got careless and was not marshalling the actions of the spirit manifests properly. The traditional ruler of the community who was in our company cautioned him. But Umo retorted by challenging the traditional ruler, or any other person present who felt competent, to come and take over. Nobody felt up to taking over, and I doubt that anybody present could have because ekong is a specialist instrumental music style. But the spirit manifest actors were ­most disappointed with Umo as he made them limp through their acts. If they made signs of disapproval Umo would merely snicker. An anticlimax was reached when the principal actor, eka ekpo, (mother ekpo) who usually climaxes and concludes a performance session, came out and had to protest vigorously, in mime, against the discomfiture Umo was occasioning the masked actors. The mother ekpo was so offended that, to the disappointment of all of us, she merely took a turn of dance-mime to indicate her skill, and then stalked back in anger into the ekpo grove from where each actor emerged.

Umo took all the criticisms unruffled. But later he confided that they could reprimand him but would not really dislodge him because there was no one good enough to play and communicate as effectively with the actors. He apologized for having taken more wine than he ought to, before a show. But the incident does demonstrate that even though everybody is capably musical in Anang society, not everybody does achieve exceptional musical ability required of a mother. It further makes points about standards of cultural artistic expression, criticism and aesthetic.

Nketia (1954: 39) points out that the art of a mother drummer role is inheritable and learned in the Akan society of Ghana, and that it is believed a person could be a born drummer. Gadzekpo (1952: 621), reports about the Ewe of Ghana that inheritance is a factor, but adds that a person from a non­-drumming family could also learn and mother the art of drumming. In effect, the ability to become a mother drummer in both Ghanaian societies could be ascribed or achieved. Either way it has to be developed through a process of learning and dedicated practice. Blacking states, concerning the Venda, South Africa that musical ability is not a matter of special talent, rather a matter of opportunity and encouragement. From his various published accounts about Venda music and cultural practices, we learn that specialists such as the mother drummer, matsige, are recognized, and that his presence in a district inspires young admirers to practice to attain his level of expertise. In other circumstances, especially with respect to dancing ability, Blacking informs that exceptional capability could be suggested to individuals from the ruling class who thereby ‘perform better because they have devoted more time and energy to it’ (Blacking 1965; 1976).

Merriam (1964: 68) reports that the Basongye of the Congo recognise that some individ­uals lack musical abilities for reasons associated with heritage. So there is a concept of a ‘gifted’ musician ‘whose talents come through inheritance’. Basden (1921: 120) notes about the Igbo that talent is recognized and that musicians ‘are treated with great respect’.

When at the age of nine I spent one year in my mother’s community in Nnewi, Igboland, attending school, I belonged to a children’s music (mask and dance) group in the community. My grandmother, with whom I lived, was a devout Christian convert with strict Christian attitudes that condemned indigenous musical arts practices, she could not effectively prevent me from playing with my mates. So we struck a compromise that restrained me from ‘entering the children’s mask’ (ibu mmanwu) myself. It was not every child in the community that belonged to the popular children’s masking practice type called nwabuja. But many would troop after us whenever we performed along the streets and in the playgrounds. Also during the early years of my life, which I spent in the southern Igbo towns with my father, we still managed to evade surveillance and form children’s musical arts groups. It was only a few of the children in the community around where we lived that participated. Within the group we made fun of those who could neither play nor dance well. And they never took such ridicules without trying to save face by provoking scuffles that often ended our performances.

In effect then, by virtue of acquired cultural rhythm, every Igbo should be capable of interpreting fundamental Igbo dance rhythms, and play music. When it is a matter of singing and playing simple tunes with syncopations, probably anybody could play. But when it comes to the level of ability to spontaneously compose extensions of melodies or melorhythms to interpret a context, experts emerge from a group of average practitioners because, in the first instance, they are gifted, and have also applied their faculties to acquiring specialist knowledge through practice. The general observation that so far credits every African with a capability to participate in the music and dance of her/his community is therefore informed by cultural factors other that automatic African musicality. But the fact that there are knowledgeable experts within a generality of participants commands probing beyond the cultural fundamentals to consider the factors of the developed artistic acumen, agugu isi. The acumen, and its development according to cultural norms, accrues exceptional knowledgeable in any aspect of musical arts specialisation.

Acknowledgement

Public acknowledgement of competence validates general cognizance of a culture’s standards creativity and performance. This presupposes an audience that is conversant with, and critical of the ramifications of musical sense in a culture. Acknowledgement has two aspects: the social personality of the musician, and the artistic quality or suitability of a performance informed by the markers of style and content.

Social aspect
The musician must be seen as a person in society. The society assesses a person primarily on the basis of social personality and the circumstances of human achievement and lifestyle. In some societies musicians tend to exhibit peculiar, often ascribed, behavioural traits, and are consequently classified as a social category, especially highly stratified societies.

Ames and King (1971) observe in the stratified socio-political system of the Hausa of Nigeria that musicians are treated as a class. Within that class, musicians further distinguish themselves according to classes. Ames (1973) further indicates that the Hausa have no single generic word for the various categories of musicians. In the categories listed by Ames and King, the Hausa have marok’an saarakuna, for instance, as praise musicians attached to patrons. To this category belongs ‘anybody who acclaims another, whether solicited or not, in the hope of obtaining reward as a means of livelihood’. But they could earn additional income during naming and marriage ceremonies. They classified the range of Hausa musicians into:

– Court musicians and acclaimers with official status in courts;

– Performers tied to distinct class of patrons like farmers;

– Hunters and blacksmiths but who have no titles;

– Free lancers and semi-professionals and non-professionals who are not considered by themselves or their audience to be marak’a (Ames and King 1971).

Here, therefore, we find musicians being acknowledged on the basis of their social attributes in a class society, and not on the basis of their musical arts ability. Thus a Hausa musician is born into a class and recognized as such, irrespective of his level of expertise.

Ames’ (1973) view is that the Hausa musician is a ‘social specialist’ as well as a professional in the sense that his social reference is as a musician, and he earns his living through making music as a trade. Within the class there is a distinction between a performer with ordinary technical skill and one with originality, inventiveness, and the ability to improve. According to Ames these qualities are assessed by how the music affects the audience. There is, therefore, recognition of outstanding musicians. We also find that although the Hausa may admire the art of a musician, he has little respect for a musician, socially. It could be deduced from these accounts that the Hausa musician of any classification or categorization has no direct organisational responsibility for the way an event for which he performs is enacted. His music also appears to be peripheral to its social context.

Merriam (1973: 257) argues that the musician is a ‘specialist’ in whatever culture he is found, and further qualifies his use of the term as ‘economic specialist’. His qualification applies to the Hausa example as perceived by Ames, and also the Basongye. In the indigenous Igbo society the musician is not an ‘economic specialist’ unless we could regard a university professor in Economics who gets an allowance for playing the organ during Sunday services in his parish church as an economic specialist. Merriam further argues that ‘the “true” specialist is a social specialist; he must be acknowledged as a musician by the members of the society of which he is a part’ (Merriam 1964: 125), and that the ultimate criterion for professionalism hinges on this. In the Igbo society the ultimate criterion for mother musicianship hinges only partly on social acknowledgement.

Fances Bebey (1975) cautions that it would be a mistake to assume that all Africans are necessarily musicians, in a brief study of a class of professional musicians fairly well distributed over the northern areas of West Africa and generally identified as ‘griots’. Griots have local names in various West African societies where they are found. In Gambia they are known as the jali (Knight 1974). Griots are found in the Fali of Guinea and the Bambara of Mali (Gorer 1949). They belong to a menial social class, and the accounts about them indicate that they are not buried in the ground so that their corpses would not desecrate it. They were rather buried in hollow tree-trunks so that their bodies would not bring a curse such as barrenness of the earth. The griots were indigenously treated as the lowest group in the class or social hierarchy of their various class societies. And from all accounts they apparently did everything to exploit their derogated status to economic advantage. On the other hand, according to Bebey’s account, they are feared because as genealogy singers and satiric minstrels, they ferret out many social secrets: ‘They know everything that is going on and … can recall events that are no longer within living memory’ (Bebey 1975: 24). They are treated with ‘contempt’ because of their interaction traits that include insulting a patron who did not reward them sufficiently for praise. At the same time

… the virtuoso of the griot command universal admiration. This virtuosity is the culmination of long years of study and hard work (Bebey 1975: 24). [Griots] are extraordinary musicians with outstanding talent who play an extremely important role in their respective societies. Their knowledge of the customs of the people and courtly life in all countries where they exercise their art gives them definite advantages; for the whole life of the people, its monarch, and ministers, is preserved intact in the infallible memory of the griots (27-8).

As such the griots could be argued as evoking ambivalent social acknowledgement: derogated and feared, lowly but powerful, socially-politically indispensable but discriminated. Gorer (1949) reports that they could be very rich, and exercise great influence over the life and activities of those whom they serve. The griots’ model presents a paradoxical situation where a group in a society is respected and admired as knowledge­able, full time professional musicians, but is, at the same time, held in low esteem because of the social status ascribed to them. Bebey also infers that they are extreme individualists; a self centred and self-seeking group whose music is not necessarily conceived as an indispensable factor in social institutions other than articulating social classes. Their music, it would seem, is a luxury in the art of living. A griot plays for what he could get, and uses the art to insult for what he is not given.

Mvet players of southern Cameroon and Gabon are itinerant professional entertainers like the griots, but they do not ply their trade on the same terms. Mvet players use the harp either to accompany mythical tales, and are highly regarded by their audiences (Bebey 1975). What the Mvet players have in common with the griot is that their music is in the music-event category, that is, for social entertainment (Nzewi 1977).

In some societies that are organised as monarchies there are musician-­families, many of which are attached to the court, and are maintained as professionals by the ruler. Nketia’s (1954: 40-1) report recommends that the Akan court drummers belong to this category, although the situation has been changing, and they are no longer content to be solely dependent on the courts. He distinguishes between mother drummers and secondary drummers. The former ‘conducts’ the performance of the whole orchestra. The secondary drummer requires just enough expertise to provide persistent, accompanying ‘contrasting’ themes, or those themes that underline the basic beats, or provide the ground bass for the music. The mother drummers are those that give the music its fullness, and quite often its distinctive character. A drummer is required to know his art as well as the duties required of him, including the ‘conventions and routines of dances and matters of procedure’ (ibid . : 36). Among the Yoruba of Nigeria there are also drum families some of whom are attached to the courts as in the example of the Timi of Ede’s court.

Social acknowledgement is, as such, not necessarily synonymous with social respect in the indigenous African reckoning of specialist musicianship. The specialist or subsistence professional musician could be accorded recognition on the merits of artistic expertise without attracting much social prestige thereby. There would, therefore, be a tendency for such musicians not to be too particular about personal integrity except probably in the case of court drummers, for instance, where lack of integrity could affect the image of the ruler or the conduct of court events. Some societies have terminologies with which to recognise musicians as a distinctive group of specialists whose social status is primarily dependent on other social factors, such as the ascribed class of birth that is not necessarily informed or determined by their skill or specialization as musicians. They could be seen as trade-professionals in a sense that would not automatically implicate artistic expertise.

Proficient musical arts practitioners in the Igbo society enjoy the same status and opportunities, by right of birth and extra-musical achievements, as every other member of the society. They could achieve any height in the social hierarchy, and perform without any compelling social ascriptions. The specialist musical arts practitioner performs in order to avail the society of the exceptional skill acquired, and is compensated with appropriate societal acknowledgement. Such extraordinary attainment accrues the musical arts specialist additional social distinctions. When she is performing within her society she is not necessarily paid for her artistic expertise. But her music group could be engaged on a customary token fee, to make special performance-appearances. A musician is required to have a normal subsistence occupation. She could then charge fees for engagements on the principle of making up for the workdays lost in fulfilling a privately contracted musical arts engagement. She is acknowledged as a person in society first on the basis of what she does for a living apart from playing music; and also on her social integrity: how she conforms to the norms of behaviour and discipline of her society without reference to the additional specialization or stature as a musician. The special factor of being a musician becomes additional recommendation that boosts rather than detracts from extra-musically attained social stature. And her music making is conceived and programmed as an input factor in the organisation and enactment of Igbo social systems and institutions.

Artistic aspect
With reference to artistic proficiency, expertise has been argued as an innate capability that is exceptionally developed, and not an automatic endowment by the advantage of being born into an Igbo culture. The debate on whether there is such a phenomenon as talent as opposed to environment, opportunity, and encourage­ment, remains unresolved, and continues to engage the attention of scholars. I argue that normative cognitive skill in the musical arts is the birth potentiality of everybody in the society, and could be developed through practical engagement during in-cultural upbringing. Whereas not everybody is an expert musical arts performer, everybody could be a cognitive critical audience. Hence Blacking (1976: 46) argues about the Venda: ‘Judgement is based on the performer’s display of technical brilliance and originality, and the vigour and confidence of his execution’. The society has criteria for evaluating standards of musical arts creativity and criticism. In such a situation the gifted musician has freedom to create within such ethnic criteria while her audience respects the creative freedom but checks any tendency towards unrestrained individualism. At other times the structure and expectations of the social context in which the musical arts is operational, and/or the musical arts style itself, model and control the scope of creative freedom in certain musical arts types.

Specialization in instrumental performance commands instruments that demand special skills. These have been referred to in the literature as master (mother) instruments. Although the opportunity and ability to become proficient on such instruments is the advantage of a few in the community, everybody in the society by reason of exposure or cultural assimilation could develop the cognitive intellect to evaluate the standard of performances on the instruments. So that while a few are skilful in the art of specialized musical arts, recognition of mother status proves the musical perspicacity of the audience. In the final analyses, therefore, it is the audience that acknowledges the exceptional musical genius of a few in the community who have achieved extraordinary expertise – both technical and creative – that mark specialist musicians and dancers and dramatists. The principle of rating expertise based on acknowledgement of skill warrants that an Igbo celebrant who is organising a prestigious event could ignore practitioners in own patrilineage or community, and search farther afield to engage practitioners reputed for outstanding merit in the particular musical arts type needed.

Organization
Cognizance and acknowledgement require further qualifications before the attribution of expertise to a degree that would make an Igbo refer to an artist as ‘attaining the ultimate degree of its essence’ as different from ‘leader of a music type’. Organization is taken into account. The importance of organization is stressed because it is in the contextual organization of the musical arts production and presentation that musical meaning emerges and becomes validated. Organization here has two levels: the personal, and the event itself.

Personal organization
A knowledgeable musical arts expert is conscious of her esteem in the Igbo society where good reputation is assiduously built up in order to elevate one’s social stature in any field of human endeavour. In such a comparative achievement milieu as marks the Igbo society every person strives to excel in any trade or artistic engagement, in order to emerge as the icon of achievement in a field of expertise. So, to achieve eminence is one thing, and to maintain it is another. If a person’s social reputation drops to a low rating, the artistic reputation would not guarantee her continued top public acknowledgement. The Igbo would ask: ‘Is he the indispensable that would prevent an event from taking place?’ And recognition would pass on to a more responsible artist who may be less accomplished.

The leader of a music group is responsible for the organization and discipline of the group, and ensures a high standard of social and artistic reputation for the group. The type of licenses and peculiar social irresponsibility allowable to expert musicians in some other societies does not obtain in the Igbo society. Merriam (1964: 123-44) offers an extensive sampling based on the reports of many field researchers, on the social behaviour of musicians in various world societies. It would appear from the reports recorded in Merriam’s book that the social regard accorded musicians within a society goes a long way towards determining how they organise themselves as social personalities in the society.

Event organization
The mother musician is the maker of a musical event, i.e., the stimulator of musical intention. The musician’s ability to understand and interpret with cognitive insight a musical arts type instituted for an event and its observance in the Igbo society is probably more important, therefore, than her personal organization. The expert musician is here required not only to be knowledgeable about what makes musical meaning in a given context, but more so, to be knowledgeable about the structure and the customary procedure for the event in which her music is involved, especially if it is an event-music (Nzewi, 1977). Mother instruments are more commonly found associated with specific events of high institutional hierarchy in the Igbo society. In such instances the musical arts serves as the frame of reference on which the scenario, as well as the interpretative scope of the event, depends for a satisfactory realisation. The mother musician has the task to coordinate the music in a manner that would underscore the event-mood, interpret the scenic activities, and generally promote the fulfilment of the objective of an event. She has, in addition, to be sensitive to the reactions of the actors and the audience in order to sustain action and interest. She has to compose and arrange at every event-occasion according to the structural eventualities of the particular occasion, as what transpires during every occasion of an event is a variant elaboration of the prescribed standard expectations typifying such an event. If she should fail to generate the mood as well as sustain the interest of the audience and actors, the event would not be a success and the event-musician would loose acclaim.

Thus, the role of the mother musician does not end with being a mother of her music (that is, making musical sense). Rather, it begins with that, and ends with applying the skill to capably transacting the meaning of the musical arts type in event context. It is especially in the context of being the organizer of the structural-contextual intentions of the music that the term mother musician has relevance and application in the Igbo society. A dextrous performer on a finger piano (ubo aka) could be acknowledged as an expert musician (onye egwu), but not as a mother musician, ‘without whose role there would be no event’ (afugh n’ejegh); that is to say, who is the maker and marker of an event.

Execution
In performing the role of the organizer of an event the mother musician’s integrity in executing the musical arts type as a phenomenon that transcends its institutional use is highly cherished. Artistic integrity and sensitivity in execution, that is, performance-composition that communicates effectively the conceived musical meaning, complete the qualifications of a mother musician. She must possess talent as a matter of creative flair; skill as a matter of technical proficiency; and timing as a matter of social responsibility and dramatic or event sensitivity.

It is necessary to make a distinction between skilful conformity, and creative originality. That some good musicians die and live on through their musical legacies, while others live acknowledged but die forgotten, is not necessarily because they were competent within a given tradition, but rather because within conformity they extended the artistic range of a tradition. Quite often this dimension of creative-flair in reckoning musicianship is explained at the level of supernatural endowment. Israel Anyahuru and Nwosu Anyahuru, both of whom are mother musicians in Ngwa, discussed their creative genius on the plane that: ‘No man is a creator. Only the Supreme Deity is the creator, and man, the instrument through which He creates’. This is not an echo of Merriam’s report about the Bala musicians of Zaire who ‘do not admit to composition, holding rather that music comes from Efile Mukulu (God) who will it so at that instant’. Merriam interprets the explanation as an apparent absence of any ‘purposeful intent to create something aesthetic’ among the Bala (Merriam 1973: 179). By their dictum Israel and Nwosu attribute creative capability (talent) and inspiration to the supernatural, while the creative experience within a cultural matrix, is consciously pursued by them as mothers of music. Hence an Ngwa mother musician is always proud to claim that he is the author of a musical creation, or the stylistic adaptation of an extant number. However, the matter of creative originality is merely an extra distinction that marks a mother musician. It should also be borne in mind that the relative importance of a mother musician in a community could be determined by the artistic medium and style of creative expression, as well as the rating of the musical arts type in the community’s criteria for hierarchical classification of its musical arts inventory.

Igbo mother musicianship
A mother musician is not, to begin with, necessarily a subsistence professional musician if we take cognizance of the arguments so far adduced from the Igbo situation vis-à-vis the reports about some other societies that have been cited. On the other hand, a professional musician could be, but is not always, a mother musician as in the Hausa example. A professional musician could be a skilled specialist recognized at the level of expertise and sentiment that includes talent. The professional musician who engages in music making or musical arts creativity as a matter of livelihood belongs to a social class in some societies. The Igbo mother musician is committed to music making and musical arts creativity as primarily a matter of artistic integrity, and also because she fulfils a specialized role that makes the musical arts a societal institution, and the practitioner a person of stature in the organization and explication of the other institutions in a society.

To have mother musicians in a society, therefore, the society needs to be cognizant of the concept of the musical arts as a contemplative art because of its intrinsic artistic-aesthetic aspirations, as well as a public utility that effectuates the functioning of other non-musical institutions. Compensations as well as distinctive social recognition accrue to those practitioners central to the fulfilment of such utilitarian intentions.

Mother musicianship is a social-cultural concept of the music-maker and music making as much as it defines creative-artistic expertise. This is the frame of reference in which the term is used in this study that models the Igbo society. The social and musicological portraits of five mother musicians with whom I studied will, it is hoped, bring into clear perspective, the Igbo concept of mother musicianship as well as the Igbo philosophy and theory of the musical arts as illustrative of the indigenous philosophy and epistemology that mark musical arts creativity and practice in Africa.

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Published in:

Meki Nzewi, Israel Anyahuru & Tom Ohiaraumunna – Musical sense & meaning – An indigenous African perception

Rozenberg Edition : Rozenberg Publishers – ISBN 978 90 5170 908 7 – 2009

Unisa Edition: www.unisa.ac.za/press

Levensgeschiedenissen

Toelichting
Heel wat leerlingen in het VWO en studenten in het HBO houden zich in hun onderwijs met generaties bezig. Zij schrijven er werkstukken over en komen steeds vaker in aanvulling hierop ook met videoreportages. Vooral vakken zoals maatschappijleer, geschiedenis, economie en management lenen zich goed voor scripties en afstudeerwerkstukken over generaties.
Hierbij werken de leerlingen veelal met levensgeschiedenissen van leden van generaties. Daarbij gaat het om een aanpak, die als de ‘life histories approach’ bekend staat.
De ‘life histories approach’ wordt veelvuldig in de geschiedwetenschappen en de sociologie toegepast. Meerdere hoofdstukken in dit boek bevatten voorbeelden van deze toepassing.

Omdat te verwachten is dat het boek Generaties van geluksvogels en pechvogels veel leerlingen tot het toepassen van generaties in hun onderwijs zal inspireren, komen nu enkele voorbeelden aan de orde. Als eerste voorbeeld zijn interviews te noemen met senioren, die tot de Vooroorlogse en Stille generatie behoren. Hoe zijn hun jeugdjaren verlopen en welke effecten heeft hun formatieve periode op hun verdere levensloop gehad? Welke indrukken zijn hen bijgebleven van de ‘Culturele Revolutie’ van het eind van de jaren zestig en het begin van de jaren zeventig? Hoe hebben zij van de economisch gunstige jaren negentig geprofiteerd en hoe hebben zij zich voorbereid op de jaren na ingang van hun pensioen?

Een volgend voorbeeld zijn interviews met vrouwen over hun ervaringen met vrouwendiscriminatie. Leden van de Vooroorlogse en Stille generatie hebben nog sterke vormen van discriminatie op de arbeidsmarkt meegemaakt. Denk aan vrouwen in overheidsdienst, die bij het in het huwelijk treden automatisch ontslag kregen. Tot de ingrijpende effecten van de ‘Culturele Revolutie’ behoort een sterke vermindering van de vrouwendiscriminatie. Geheel verdwenen is deze vorm van discriminatie echter zelfs in het jaar 2012 nog niet.

Als een derde voorbeeld zijn werkstukken te noemen, die levensgeschiedenissen in meerdere generaties onderling vergelijken. Bij een dergelijke aanpak gaat het vaak om samenwerking tussen meerdere leerlingen of studenten. Daarmee is een benadering ter sprake gekomen, die zich goed leent voor een vergelijking van geluksvogels en pechvogels. Wie heeft kunnen profiteren van gunstige omstandigheden en hoe is van deze voordelen gebruik gemaakt? Wie heeft te maken gekregen met ongunstige situaties? Zijn de gevolgen hiervan verderop in de levensloop gecompenseerd en zijn er generatielittekens achtergebleven?

Een  vierde voorbeeld heeft betrekking op veranderingen tussen generaties als gevolg van de opkomst van ICT en Internet. In het tweede hoofdstuk komt een onderzoek naar techniekgeneraties ter sprake. Op vergelijkbare wijze kunnen vele sectoren in de samenleving worden bezien op de effecten van de digitalisering van vooral de jongeren. Vroeger leerden jongeren van ouderen, tegenwoordig ondersteunen heel wat jongeren hun grootouders maar ook hun ouders bij het omgaan met PC’s en Internet.

Meestal gaat de aandacht vooral uit naar algemene maatschappelijke generaties. Zij overheersen het beeld dat de leden van de samenleving van generaties hebben. Echter ook specifieke generaties lenen zich goed voor het maken van werkstukken. Dan komen generaties in de schilderkunst of de muziek aan de orde. Of generaties in beroepen zoals leraar.
Bij al deze werkstukken kan het nuttig blijken om projecten uit het wetenschappelijk onderzoek naar generaties als inspiratiebron te gebruiken.

Generatiewandelingen: Doorn in Europa

Toelichting
Het sociologenechtpaar Lynd heeft in de jaren dertig van de vorige eeuw de gevolgen van de economische crisis in de Verenigde Staten verduidelijkt door deze in de setting van een middelgrote stad te beschrijven. Zij noemden deze stad ‘Middeltown’,  doch later bleek het om de stad Munci te gaan. Toen enkele jaren later de economische crisis met behulp van de ‘New Deal’ overwonnen werd, beschreven de Lynd’s dit in het boek ‘Middeltown in Transition’. Beide boeken hebben de auteurs gebaseerd op participerende observatie.  Door deze boeken verwierf Munci internationale bekendheid.
Er zijn heel wat verdere voorbeelden te noemen van maatschappelijke ontwikkelingen en verwikkelingen, die zijn beschreven met een stad of dorp als achtergrond. Dit is ook buiten de wetenschappen gebeurd. Denk aan Amsterdam tijdens de crisis van de jaren dertig, bekeken door de ogen van Geert Mak.

In dit werkboek, Generaties van geluksvogels en pechvogels, komt nu het dorp Doorn als concreet voorbeeld bij het maken van werkstukken aan de orde. Daarbij levert participerende observatie door de auteur de wetenschappelijke basis. Er zijn echter ook literaire bronnen beschikbaar. Simon Vestdijk behandelde ‘Het dorp van de donder’ in zijn bundel ‘Gestalten tegenover mij’. In het begin van de huidige eeuw heeft Marjolijn Februari het dorp Doorn ‘anoniem’ tot achtergrond voor een roman gebruikt. Wie op www.heuvelrug.nl gaat kijken vindt daar een film over Doorn en andere gemeenten op de Utrechtse Heuvelrug.
De aan deze paragraaf voorafgaande paragraaf over levensgeschiedenissen kan als een afzonderlijk betoog worden gelezen. De paragraaf over de levensgeschiedenissen kan echter ook worden gelezen als een voorbereiding op de paragraaf over generatiewandelingen.

Van kwaad tot erger
Het eerste voorbeeld van een generatiewandeling is gebaseerd op de roman ‘De Zwarte Ruiter’ van Simon Vestdijk. Deze roman speelt in de bossen van Doorn, rond het landgoed ‘De Ruiterberg’. De ene hoofdpersoon is een jong meisje. De andere hoofdpersoon is haar vader. De vader is een typische vertegenwoordiger van de conservatieve leden der Vooroorlogse Generatie. Volgens hem geldt: vaders wil is wet. Hij behoort tot de vaders die tijdens een discussie met een kind plegen te zeggen: ‘discussion closed’ en daardoor verdere argumentaties afkappen. Een dergelijke bejegening heeft heel wat kinderen tot wanhoop gebracht.

In het verleden heeft de vader zijn dochter onhandig behandeld en zij is hierdoor blijvend mank geworden. Als reactie hierop heeft de vader zijn  gedrag tegenover de dochter veranderd. Door zijn onhandigheid heeft de vader echter het lot van het kind nog verder verslechterd. Dit betekent dat het gezegde ‘van kwaad tot erger’ in sterke mate van toepassing is.
In wanhoop en in trance zwerft het meisje over de heide in de buurt van het landgoed van haar vader: de Ruiterberg. Op die heide ontmoet zij de Zwarte Ruiter. Het meisje steekt een stuk heide in brand. Door een noodlottige samenloop van omstandigheden vat een groot gedeelte van de heide vlam en komt het meisje in de vlammen om het leven.

Het idee van een Zwarte Ruiter is gebaseerd op een sage uit het Spessart, een bosgebied in Duitsland. In deze sage verdobbelt een vader zijn dochter. Wanneer de winnaars van het dobbelspel hun gewin opeisen, springt de edelman op zijn paard, met de dochter achterop, en probeert de burcht te ontvluchten. Tijdens deze rit verongelukt de dochter.
Deze sage vormt de achtergrond voor de eerste generatiewandeling door het dorp Doorn. Wij zien in gedachten de roman van Vestdijk zich voor onze ogen afspelen. Het heideveld ligt er nog steeds en het landgoed Ruiterberg prijkt nog steeds als een juweel in het landschap.

Het gezegde ‘van kwaad tot erger’ heeft nog niets aan betekenis ingeboet. Ook in onze tijd nemen ouders soms beslissingen die de kinderen ‘van de regen in de drup’ doen belanden. Beleidmakers in organisaties vaardigen besluiten uit, die averechts uitpakken. Nationale regeringen en internationale organen voeren soms een beleid dat de situatie niet verbetert maar verslechtert. Het mechanisme ‘van kwaad tot erger’ heeft daarbij veelal betrekking op de verhouding  tussen generaties. Waarbij het veelal om algemene maar soms ook om specifieke generaties gaat.

Wat werkstukken betreft gaan de gedachten bijvoorbeeld uit naar ouders die tot een weinig autoritaire generatie behoren. Zij bejegenen hun kinderen eerst op een zeer toegefelijke manier. Voert dit tot ongewenst gedrag, dan kan dit tot abrupte harde eisen van gedisciplineerd gedrag leiden. Dan is te verwachten dat de kinderen in opstand komen. Zo zijn er tal van situaties in de samenleving die zich laten analyseren vanuit het mechanisme ‘van kwaad tot erger’. Soms brengen bestuderingen van levenslopen dergelijke mechanismen onder de aandacht.

Generatielittekens
Het behoren tot een maatschappelijke generatie kan in de loop der jaren tot knelpunten leiden, die in de vorm van generatielittekens de verdere levensloop beïnvloeden. Maken wij een denkbeeldige wandeling door Doorn, dan komen wij  om te beginnen het BNMO-oord tegen. Dit is een omvangrijk bosgebied waarin tientallen bungalows staan. Hierin wonen militaire slachtoffers van de Tweede Wereldoorlog en latere militaire acties. Er staat ook een hoofdgebouw, van waaruit hulp en ondersteuning aan de bewoners van de bungalows wordt geboden. De Tweede Wereldoorlog is een bekende oorzaak van generatielittekens bij burgers en militairen. Latere militaire operaties hebben weer latere generaties geraakt.

Al wandelend komen wij even later een generatielitteken van geheel andere aard tegen. Midden in het dorp staat een gebouw dat vele decennia lang als Gereformeerde Kerk werd gebruikt. Door de sterke krimp van het aantal burgers die gereformeerde geloofsovertuigingen koesteren moesten de Gereformeerden samengaan met onder andere de Hervormden en biedt de Maartenskerk voortaan onderdak aan zowel Gereformeerden als Hervormden. Een ontwikkeling, die bij heel wat Gereformeerden een generatielitteken zal hebben achtergelaten.
Wie al lang in Doorn woont kan de plek aanwijzen waar vroeger een kleuterschool stond. Toen vanaf 1970 ook in Doorn het aantal geboorten daalde, nam ook het aantal kleuters af en werd de school overbodig. Geen dramatisch generatielitteken, maar toch een  symbool voor een ingrijpende maatschappelijke trendbreuk.

Wie in deze geest een werkstuk over generatielittekens wil maken, kan door zijn of haar woonplaats wandelen en optekenen, waar de sporen van dergelijke ongewenste trendbreuken te onderkennen zijn. Zijn reeds levensgeschiedenissen verzameld, dan kunnen veelal ook aan deze gegevens aanwijzingen voor generatielittekens worden ontleend.

Generaties in de kunsten

De kern van het dorp Doorn en met name het buitengebied bevatten tal van gebouwen die een patroon van generaties weerspiegelen. Generaties van welgestelde burgers, die huizen lieten bouwen. Generaties van architecten die de kans kregen om hun kunstzinnige overtuigingen in bouwwerken tot uiting te brengen. Adellijke families lieten kastelen langs de Langbroeker Wetering verrijzen. In Doorn treffen wij statige herenhuizen aan, die in de achttiende eeuw in opdracht van rijke Amsterdammers als buitenhuizen werden gerealiseerd. Van recentere datum is een villa die Rietveld tot architect had. Op onze wandeling komen wij verder in de publieke ruimte tal van beelden tegen, die verschillen tussen generaties van kunstenaars en schenkers weerspiegelen.

Wie bij een generatiewandeling gebouwen en kunstwerken centraal stelt, zal vooral in steden tot heel wat boeiende waarnemingen kunnen komen. Denk aan overblijfselen van de Jugendstil, afkomstig van een generatie van kunstenaars die rond 1900 grote invloed heeft uitgeoefend.

Rondleidingen bij monumenten
Wie in Doorn wandelt, zal stellig ook een bezoek willen brengen aan ’Huis Doorn’, het voormalige buitenverblijf van de bisschoppen van Utrecht en in de vorige eeuw vele jaren bewoond door de laatste Duitse keizer. Huis Doorn is thans ingericht als museum met als centraal thema het Interbellum. Tot de bezoekers behoren veel senioren, met name ook vele bussen met leden van oudere generaties uit Duitland. Maar ook leden van jongere generaties zijn vaak in het herenhuis en het omringende park aan te treffen, bijvoorbeeld in het kader van een schoolreis met een historisch accent. Vooral Huis Doorn en de geschiedenis van de Duitse Keizer geven een Europees accent aan de generatiewandelingen door Doorn.

Heel wat lezers van het boek Generaties van geluksvogels en pechvogels zullen in hun woonplaats een of meer monumenten aantreffen, die bezoekers uit uiteenlopende generaties aantrekken. Dit kan belangstelling wekken voor generatiebewuste rondleiding door of langs het monument.

Een generatiewandeling in 2050
Van geheel andere aard is een generatiewandeling door een dorp als Doorn met het doel om te verkennen hoe dit dorp er in 2050 uit zou kunnen zien. In Doorn staan enkele complexen die bestemd zijn voor verzorging en verpleging van hupbehoevende ouderen. Zouden in dergelijke complexen in 2050 zorgrobots zijn aan te treffen en welke functies zouden deze kunnen vervullen? Doorn kent heel wat restaurants en bars. Zouden in 2050 in deze etablissementen robotobers aan het werk zijn?

Stellig zou in 2050 ‘het nieuwe werken’ al op ruime schaal zijn ingevoerd. Enkele dagen per week zouden heel wat beroepsbeoefenaren vanuit hun eigen huis aan het werk zijn. Daarbij zouden zij gebruik maken van Internet, met name ‘video conferencing’. Internationale universiteiten zouden vanuit gedecentraliseerde doch samenwerkende centra wereldwijd toponderwijs kunnen verzorgen, in willekeurig welke taal dan ook.  Dit is in een hoofdstuk in het boek Generaties van geluksvogels en pechvogels al geschetst. Ook vermeldt een hoofdstuk hoe taaldrempels in de toekomst kunnen worden overbrugd.

Wetenschapsrechtbanken

Toelichting
Wie een werkstuk met betrekking tot generaties wil maken, kan ook kiezen voor de toepassing van een ‘wetenschapsrechtbank’. Daarbij gaat het om een aanpak, die voor het eerst is toegepast in het begin van de discussie over het milieu. Er kwamen praktische problemen naar voren, die niet volledig op de traditionele manier door discussies van voor- en tegenstanders konden worden opgelost. Met inschakeling van een wetenschapsrechtbank kunnen de tegenstellingen zo veel mogelijk worden opgelost. Er wordt echter rekening gehouden met de mogelijkheid dat enkele problemen overblijven, waarvoor geen oplossing kon worden gevonden.

De wetenschapsrechtbanken zijn ontworpen met een strafrechtbank in gedachten. Het gaat om drie rollen, die elk door één of meer personen kunnen worden vervuld. In de eerste plaats is er de rol van de aanklager. In de tweede plaats gaat het om de rol van de verdediger. De derde rol brengt de ‘lijdelijke rechter’ naar voren. Een strafrechter komt in het begin niet met een eigen oordeel doch probeert de waarheid te achterhalen door zowel de aanklager als de verdediger vragen te stellen. Zoals in het hoofdstuk over milieuvraagstukken is uiteengezet, zijn wetenschapsrechtbanken onder de naam ‘controversezittingen’ in ons land in 1982 in het kader van de Maatschappelijke Discussie Energiebeleid gehouden.

Bij een werkstuk in het onderwijs kan een wetenschapsrechtbank worden ingezet om een bepaald zwaar vraagstuk systematisch aan de orde te stellen. In de fase van het verzamelen van materiaal voor het werkstuk stelt de auteur van het werkstuk een wetenschapsrechtbank samen. Er worden door deze rechtbank één of enkele zittingen gehouden, telkens met één of enkele dossiers. De uitkomsten van deze zittingen kunnen worden verwerkt tot kennis omtrent het centraal gestelde maatschappelijke vraagstuk.

Als een zwaar maatschappelijk vraagstuk kan de sociale rechtvaardigheid tussen generaties worden aangemerkt. Hoeveel moeten de oudere generaties, de babyboomgeneraties en de jongere generaties bijdragen om de kosten van pensioenen en gezondheidszorg tot 2050 rechtvaardig te verdelen?
Op vergelijkbare wijze is het eveneens mogelijk om de milieuproblemen tot 2050 ter discussie te stellen.
Komen bij de bestudering van maatschappelijke generaties vragen op over de wijze van operationalisering van variabelen, dan kunnen één of enkele zittingen van een wetenschapsrechtbank voor een zo groot mogelijke helderheid zorgen.

Trainingen in generatiebewust beleid
Het rapport ‘Europe 2020, strategies for smart, sustainable and inclusive growth’ maakt duidelijk dat er generatiebewust beleid noodzakelijk is. Het maakt ook duidelijk dat een dergelijke ontwerpactiviteit uitstijgt boven wat wij nu al tot onze beschikking hebben. Er zijn nieuwe methoden vereist voor verkenningen, strategieformatie en evaluatie vooraf, genaamd social impact assessment. Deze paragraaf biedt een eerste verkenning.

Zodra de nieuwe methoden ter beschikking zijn gekomen, zullen de beleidsmakers en alle verder betrokkenen met behulp van trainingen op de toepassingen moeten worden voorbereid.
Hierbij staat voorop, dat de toekomst van de betrokken landen niet geheel trefzeker valt te voorspellen. Het best mogelijke beleid is beleid waarvan wij voorafgaand aan de uitvoering de kans zo gering mogelijk hebben gemaakt dat wij er later spijt van krijgen.
Stel, er wordt overwogen om op een bepaald terrein in de samenleving een generatiebewust beleid te gaan voeren. Dan zal eerst met behulp van verkenningen moeten worden nagegaan, om welke maatschappelijke knelpunten het gaat en hoe een dergelijk beleid gevoerd zou kunnen worden. Dit wordt de aanloopfase genoemd. Daarna komt de hoofdfase in beeld. Tenslotte volgt een fase van institutionalisering. Deze drie fasen komen nu achtereenvolgens aan de orde. Dit fasemodel vormt een checklist. Het is dus een overzicht van deelanalyses waaruit door de opsteller van een werkstuk gekozen kan worden.

De aanloopfase
Stel, dat een kerkgenootschap op een nieuwe wijze wil inspelen op de generatiegebonden vermindering van zijn leden en de activiteiten van leden. Als tweede voorbeeld nemen wij een universiteit, die tot een verbetering van haar onderwijs en haar wetenschapsbeoefening wil komen. Daarbij wil deze universiteit generatieverschillen onder zijn wetenschappers overbruggen.

Elk van deze voorbeeldterreinen vereist om te beginnen een probleemanalyse. Daarbij moet duidelijk worden, welke focus-actor centraal zal staan. Is dit een onderdeel van een organisatie? Een organisatie in haar geheel? Een samenwerkingsverband van organisaties? Een combinatie van dergelijke actoren?

De focus-actor is degenen, die de te ontwerpen strategie moet realiseren. Vaak gaat het om samenwerkingsverbanden van actoren, die elkaars concurrenten zijn. Denk aan locale gemeenschappen of universiteiten.
De volgende stap is het inventariseren van de activiteiten van de focus-actor. Welke missie wil hij vervullen? Welke strategieën zijn thans in gebruik? Om welke tactieken gaat het? Welke operationele planning wordt toegepast? Welke termijnen staan hierbij voor ogen?

Vrijwel altijd zijn er discrepanties tussen de formele missie van een organisatie, zoals deze bijvoorbeeld in voorlichtingsbrochures staat omschreven, en de feitelijke missie. Schrijf zowel de formele als de feitelijke missie e.d. uit. Soms gaat het om ambities, die moeilijk op papier gezet kunnen worden. In bedekte termen zijn ambities echter weldegelijk omschrijfbaar.

Probleemanalyse
Welke problemen ziet de focus-actor bij het realiseren van de missie en de verdere voornemens? Beleidmakers reageren op dergelijke vragen nogal eens met de mededeling: ‘ik word er niet voor betaald om onopgeloste problemen te hebben’. Om deze reactie te omzeilen kan het verstandig zijn de beleidmakers te vragen, met welke dilemma’s zij in hun werk te maken hebben. Dilemma’s zijn vervangen door ‘equally desirable (or undesirable) alternatives’ voor beleidskeuzes.

Systeemanalyse
Het is vervolgens noodzakelijk om na te gaan welke organisaties bij het beoogde beleid betrokken zijn. Eerst komt de focus-actor  op papier. Vanuit deze positie wordt een pijlenschema opgesteld, waarin alle belangrijk geoordeelde  tegenspelers een plaats krijgen. Met welke organisaties moet de focus-actor rekening houden?

Trendanalyse
Welke maatschappelijk ontwikkelingen dienen bij de strategievorming aan de orde te komen? Welke maatschappelijke ontwikkelingen hebben zware effecten op de strategie, welke minder zware effecten? Een voorlopige trendanalyse geeft een eerste beeld.

Projectontwerp
Het gaat bij het projectontwerp om het omschrijven van de gewenste eindsituatie, met vermelding van het tijdstip waarop deze situatie bereikt moet zijn. Ook gaat het om een aantal gewenste tussensituaties op weg naar het einddoel. Tot het projectontwerp behoort ook een inventarisatie van de hulpbronnen, die ter beschikking staan.
De aanloopfase begint met ruwe schetsen. Gaandeweg komen deze schetsen opnieuw aan de orde en worden deze schetsen stapsgewijze verbeterd.

De hoofdfase
De opstellers van de strategie moeten zichzelf tot een poging dwingen om de belangrijkste aspecten van de probleemsituatie en de oplossingsrichtingen op papier te krijgen. Een  bruikbare werkwijze hierbij is om in enkele subgroepen onafhankelijk van elkaar te analyseren en ontwerpen, vervolgens de resultaten plenair te bespreken, gevolgd door weer een serie bijeenkomsten in subgroepen.

Omgevingsscenario’s
Deelnemers aan een strategieformatie plegen te beginnen met de ontwikkelingen in de omgeving van focus-actor en tegenspelers in het verlengde te zien van de ontwikkelingen uit het recente verleden. Om deze blikvernauwing te overwinnen is het noodzakelijk om meerdere scenario’s voor de omgeving op papier te zetten. In elk geval dienen een trendscenario, een krimpscenario en een groeiscenario in de beschouwing te worden betrokken. Ook moeten een aantal doorkruisende ontwikkelingen aan de orde komen om voldoende voorbereid te zijn op plotselinge ingrijpende gebeurtenissen.

Strategieën
Welke beleidsalternatieven verdienen in de overwegingen aan de orde te komen? In elk geval zal een voortzetting van het huidige in de beschouwing te worden betrokken, veelal aangeduid als ‘business as usual’. Hieraan zijn  toe te voegen een gematigde en een meer gewaagde strategie.

Evaluatie vooraf
Elke strategie dient in de volgende fase geanalyseerd te worden ten opzichte van elk der omgevingsscenario’s. Welke bedreigingen zijn ten aanzien van focusactor en tegenspelers in het geding? Welke kansen hebben de betrokken actoren, zowel wat bekende hulpbronnen als wat stille reserves aangaat?

Besluitvorming
Ter afsluiting van de hoofdfase vindt besluitvorming plaats. Er moeten afwegingen worden gemaakt. Een stappenplan geeft aan, hoe de doelstellingen te realiseren zijn.

De fase van de institutionalisering
Hierna dient de organisatorische inbedding van het betrokken generatiebewust beleid te worden uitgewerkt. Hoe dient de focus-actor dit aan te pakken? Welke menskracht moet worden ingezet? Ook gaat het om de organisatorische eenheden die nodig zijn. Denk aan afdelingen en hun samenhang.

Doorlopende evaluatie
Tijdens de uitvoering van het beleid is periodiek een formatieve evaluatie noodzakelijk. Een het eind dient een summatieve evaluatie plaats te vinden.

Trainingen
Het voorgaande staat bekend als ‘strategic learning’. De activiteiten leiden tot resultaten ten opzichte van de strategische doelen. De activiteiten vereisen dat aandacht wordt besteed aan doorlopende reflectie en verder zo nodig aan  bijsturen.
In het kader van de trainingen zal de aandacht moeten uitgaan naar ‘instant assessments’, ander gezegd bliksemanalyses. Soms is het noodzakelijk om de cyclus binnen een kwartier of een uur te doorlopen. Gaat het om het vormen van een strategie met zware gevolgen, dan vormt een bliksemanalyse een noodoplossing. In de trainingen dienen ook middenlang en lange beleidsprocessen aan de orde te komen.
Beleidsmakers met ruime ervaring hebben – vaak met schade en schande – geleerd dat het doorlopen van de cyclus geen overbodige weelde is. Immers maar al te vaak blijkt na enige tijd dat een haastig ontworpen strategie tot onwenselijke verrassingen leidt.

Uitwerking van vijf cases

Case 1 : Generatiebewust beleid in het voortgezet onderwijs
Als eerste case komt het voortgezet onderwijs aan de orde. Wie aan deze case gaat werken doet er goed aan om eerst het hoofdstuk over generaties in het onderwijs en het hoofdstuk over generaties en taaldrempels te herlezen in het boek Generaties van geluksvogels en pechvogels .

Wat generatiebewust beleid ten aanzien van het voortgezet onderwijs betreft gaat de aandacht uit naar een denkbeeldig regionaal netwerk van scholen in het voortgezet onderwijs. Het in de komende jaren toenemende tekort aan leraren vormt een eerste probleemcomplex, aan de dynamiek van generaties gerelateerd. Het met de geboortedaling samenhangende toenemende aantal situaties waarin voor bepaalde vakken te weinig leerlingen beschikbaar zijn vormt een tweede probleemcomplex. Het derde probleemcomplex is het Engelstalige onderwijs in het VWO-plus dat ondersteuning bij het hanteren van de Engelse taal wenselijk maakt. Het vierde probleemcomplex zijn de te verwachten verdere bezuinigingen.
Indien er langlopende vacatures zijn, of indien een leraar langdurig ziek is, kan virtueel afstandsonderwijs uitkomst bieden. Dan kan bijvoorbeeld één leraar onderwijs verzorgen aan twee klassen. Mits in de klas, die zonder leraar opereert, een klassenassistent aanwezig is.

Een inspirerend voorbeeld vormt het onderwijs in het Fries, dat in het betrokken hoofdstuk in het boek Generaties van geluksvogels en pechvogels is behandeld. De geïnteresseerde leerlingen wonen zodanig verspreid, dat geen klassen kunnen worden gevormd. Dus wordt het onderwijs in het Fries op individuele basis in de vorm van virtueel afstandsonderwijs verzorgd.

In het VWO-plus vormt Engels de voertaal. Leerlingen kunnen meestal snel voldoende ‘working knowledge’ verwerven. Echter zodra gecompliceerde taalconstructies moeten worden toegepast, kan ondersteuning door middel van een systeem voor meertalige communicatie noodzakelijk blijken.

Bijzondere aandacht verdient het Zuyderzee College. Wie de website van deze scholengemeenschap opzoekt, vindt informatie over computerondersteund onderwijs. Het gaat ook over de ‘elektronische leeromgeving’, die het gebruik van leerboeken overbodig maakt. ELO verdient in de te maken werkstukken extra aandacht.

Case 2 : Generatiebewust beleid in een kerkgenootschap
Voor de tweede case is het van belang om eerst het hoofdstuk over generatieverschillen in milieu en godsdienst te herlezen. Daarna verdienen de betrokken probleemcomplexen de aandacht. Het eerste probleemcomplex hangt samen met risicobesef. In het hoofdstuk is al aan de orde gekomen, dat groeiend risico en risicobesef tot een toename kan leiden van individuen die zeggen geloofszekerheden te koesteren. Het is te verwachten dat het risicobesef in de komende jaren verder zal toenemen, met name ook in de jongere generaties. Het tweede probleemcomplex is het feit dat nog maar weinig Nederlanders naar de kerk gaan. Dit stelt de kerkgenootschappen voor problemen. Zij zoeken naar oplossingen om langs nieuwe wegen te kunnen blijven voortbestaan.

De cultuur- en godsdienstsocioloog Joep de Hart heeft de stand van zaken in Nederland op religieus gebied onderzocht in zijn boek Zwevende gelovigen: oude religie en nieuwe spiritualiteit. Het verscheen in 2010 bij Bert Bakker te Amsterdam. De kerken lopen leeg maar de religie verdwijnt niet. Ongeveer 40 procent van de Nederlanders is lid van een kerkgenootschap en 15 procent gaat iedere week naar de kerk. Ongeveer 60 procent van de bevolking gelooft in God of ‘een hogere macht’. Twee van de drie Nederlanders geloven in een leven na de dood. 40 procent gelooft in wonderen en in het nut van bidden.
In het buitenland richten steeds meer kerkgenootschappen naast hun traditionele kerkorganisatie een ‘virtuele kerk’ op. In ons land heeft de PKN (Protestantse Kerken Nederland) al een virtuele kerk in het leven geroepen. Gegevens hierover staan op Internet.

In het kader van generatiebewust beleid is het een boeiende uitdaging om voor een religieuze organisatie naar keuze een‘virtuele kerk’ te ontwerpen die inspeelt op generatieverschillen onder de potentiële leden. Als voorbeeld zou de Nederlandse Protestantenbond kunnen dienen. Gezinnen met jonge kinderen zullen op zondagochtenden gezamenlijk activiteiten in de natuur willen ondernemen en zij zullen dus weinig of geen belangstelling voor kerkdiensten vertonen, zelfs als de dienst ook op kinderen wordt afgestemd. Gelovigen in het midden van hun leven alsmede senioren zullen veelal ook de zondagochtenden aan bezoeken aan natuur en cultuur willen besteden. Een virtuele kerk kan diensten organiseren, waaraan op avonden in de week per Internet kan worden deelgenomen. Meditatie kan eveneens op afstand worden aangeboden. In een werkstuk kunnen de componenten van een virtuele kerk worden uitgewerkt. 

Case 3 : Generatiebewust beleid in het universitair onderwijs.
De derde case vereist het eerst herlezen van het hoofdstuk over generaties in de wetenschap, zie: Generaties van geluksvogels en pechvogels. Als eerste probleemcomplex komt de verwachting naar voren dat een forse krimp is te verwachten in het aantal academici dat in het universitair onderwijs werkzaam is. De krimp is te verwachten als gevolg van het met pensioen gaan van de babyboomers.

Het tweede probleemcomplex is de verwachting van verdere bezuinigingen. Vermoedelijk zullen veel vacatures niet kunnen worden herbezet.
Als kans is een stille reserve in het Nederlandse academisch bestel te noemen. Door samenwerking tussen universiteiten op het gebied van het onderwijs zou heel wat menskracht efficiënter kunnen worden inzetten. Denk aan een studierichting, die aan meerdere universiteiten vertegenwoordigd is. In de eerste jaren van de studie zouden vakken zoals de geschiedenis van de discipline, statistiek alsmede methoden en technieken van onderzoek gezamenlijk verzorgd kunnen worden. Behalve een gemeenschappelijk deel zou het onderwijs ook een specifiek deel kunnen omvatten, het laatste afgestemd op de eigenaardigheden van elke studierichting. Voor de concretisering van een dergelijke opzet kan ook hier naar het Zuyderzee College worden verwezen. In een werkstuk zou kunnen worden uitgewerkt, op welke wijze virtueel afstandsonderwijs generatiebewust in het universitair bestel gerealiseerd zou kunnen worden. De specifieke kenmerken van studenten uit de jongste generatie verdienen verdiscontering, met name de ICT-vaardigheden. De specifieke kenmerken van universitaire docenten uit oudere generaties kunnen eveneens systematisch worden ingezet.

Case 4 : Generatiebewust beleid in de wetenschapsbeoefening.
Werken aan de vierde case begint met het herlezen van het hoofdstuk over generaties in de wetenschap in het boek Generaties van geluksvogels en pechvogels. Vervolgens komen de probleemcomplexen aan de orde. Bij het eerste probleemcomplex gaat het om de toenemende competitie tussen universiteiten, faculteiten en onderzoeksgroepen. Externe beoordelingen en rangordening dwingen de betrokken collectieve sociale actoren om hun onderzoeksactiviteiten en publicatiegedrag steeds verder aan te scherpen. Het tweede probleemcomplex wordt gevormd door de noodzaak om behalve voor toegespitste topspecialisatie ook te zorgen voor een brede kijk op het vakgebied. Het ontstaan van ‘vakidioten’ moet worden voorkomen. Het derde probleemcomplex schuilt in de stille reserves die zijn aan te treffen in de populatie van emeriti en andere senior wetenschappers. Er is een internationale markt voor topemeriti ontstaan, om een voorbeeld te noemen. Probleemcomplex vier heeft betrekking op de stille reserves die schuilen in de mogelijkheden voor samenwerking tussen universiteiten in eigen land en over de landsgrenzen heen, het laatste als onderdeel van de globalisering van de wetenschap.

Wie een werkstuk in deze sfeer wil maken, kan een ‘virtual institute of advanced studies’ ontwerpen. Een VIAS kan Engelstalige wetenschappers mondiaal werven. Vooral topemeriti verdienen hierbij de aandacht.

Case 5 : Generatiebewust beleid en het nieuwe werken.
Wie met de vijfde case aan de slag wil gaan, doet er goed aan eerst het hoofdstuk over generaties en taaldrempels te herlezen. Ook het herlezen van hoofdstuk twee met de voorbeelden van generatiepatronen is aan te raden. (zie: Generaties van geluksvogels en pechvogels)

De beheersing en de opmars van het Engels in grote delen van de Westerse wereld is een bekend verschijnsel. In Franstalige landen is van een  beheersing van het Engels op het niveau van een ‘working knowledge’ nog steeds geen sprake. Deze beperking geldt ook voor de beheersing van het Engels in de meeste overige landen rond de Middellandse zee. Uit het hoofdstuk over generaties en taaldrempels blijkt dat systemen voor meertalige communicatie, bijvoorbeeld Sociolinguafranca, deze beperkingen kunnen overwinnen.

Het nieuwe werken houdt in dat vanuit nieuwe soorten werkplekken, bijvoorbeeld het eigen huis, betaalde arbeid kan worden verricht voor opdrachtgevers waar dan ook ter wereld. De globalisering van de arbeidsmarkt is in volle gang. Dit betekent dat in de taal van het land waarin de afnemer woont opdrachten kunnen worden vervuld. Denk aan het Frans en aan verdere talen uit het Middellandse Zee gebied. Daarbij kan het om onderwijs en trainingen gaan. Verder om coaching. Ook om administratieve en boekhoudkundige werkzaamheden.
Het ontwerpen, testen en institutionaliseren van afstandswerken volgens de mogelijkheden van het nieuwe werken vereist heel wat organisatorische voorzieningen. Een nuttige uitdaging voor het opzetten van een training en het opstellen van een basisnota.

Tot slot
Bovenstaand artikel komt uit het boek Generaties van geluksvogels en pechvogels dat verschijnt ter gelegenheid van het Europese Jaar van actief ouder worden en solidariteit tussen de generaties: http://europa.eu/ey2012

In Bonushoofdstuk15 met ‘veel gestelde vragen’ zal een voorbeeld van het verlsag van een generatiewandeling worden opgenomen. Dit bonushoofdstuk zal eveneens een voorbeeld van een werkstuk over een vorm van generatiebewust beleid bevatten.

Voor Bonushoofdstuk 15 zie: www.europegenerations.com

Wat het ontwerpen van generatiebewust beleid betreft is achtergrondinformatie te vinden in: Henk A. Becker 1997. Social impact assessment: method and experience in Europe, North America and the Developing World. Routledge, London. Verder in Henk A. Becker & Frank Vanclay (eds.) 2003. The International Handbook of Social Impact Assessment: Conceptual and Methodological Advances. Cheltenham: Edward Elgar.

Over de auteur:

Henk A. Becker werd geboren te Greifswald, Duitsland, in 1933. In 1946 migreerde hij naar Nederland. Aan de Universiteit Leiden deed hij in 1958 doctoraal examen sociologie (met lof). Van 1956 tot 1964 werkte hij als stafmedewerker op een ministerie.
Van 1964 tot 1968 was hij hoofd van de onderzoeksafdeling van het Sociologisch Instituut aan de Nederlandse Economische Hogeschool, thans Erasmus Universiteit Rotterdam. In 1968 promoveerde hij aan de NEH op een proefschrift over loopbanen van managers. Het betrof een vroege toepassing van normatieve loopbaan analyses en van een computersimulatie op loopbanen. In 1968 benoemde de Universiteit Utrecht hem tot hoogleraar in de sociologie alsmede de methodologie van het sociaal onderzoek.
Zijn wetenschappelijk werk heeft hij opgezet volgens het TRIPOD-model. Dit houdt in, dat op samenhangende wijze (1) inhoudelijke onderwerpen, (2) methoden en (3) meta-aspecten van de betrokken wetenschappelijke discipline aan de orde komen. Wat inhoudelijke onderwerpen aangaat houdt hij zich vooral met loopbanen, levenslopen in cohorten alsmede generaties bezig. Op het terrein van de methoden heeft hij gepubliceerd over computersimulaties, cohortenanalyses en ‘social impact assessment’. Met betrekking tot meta-aspecten gaat het over de ‘state of the art’ in de sociologie en de daarmede verbonden delen van de wetenschapsfilosofie. In zijn onderwijs aan de Universiteit Utrecht hield hij zich bezig met algemene sociologie alsmede sociologie van planning en beleid.
Hij was decaan van een faculteit en een subfaculteit en hij maakte deel uit van de besturen van wetenschappelijke verenigingen in eigen land en op internationaal niveau. In 1996 werd hij benoemd tot Ridder in de Orde van de Nederlandse Leeuw. In 2000 ontving hij de Rose-Hulman Award van de International Association for Impact Assessment, voor zijn werk op het terrein van de demografische impact assessments.
In 1998 bereikte hij de leeftijd van 65 jaar en ging hij met emeritaat. Sinds dat tijdstip zet hij zijn wetenschappelijk werk in deeltijd voort.
Henk Becker is gehuwd met Johanna Enzlin. Het echtpaar heeft twee dochters en twee kleinzonen.
Een gedetailleerde biografie is opgenomen in Henk A. Becker & Johannes J.F. Schroots (Eds) 2008. Releasing the Potentials of Senior Scholars & Scientists, Utrecht: Igitur.