Anti-Semitic Image: Jew Poisoning a Well

16th century image of a Jewish man poisoning a well while Satan urinates in it. In addition, the image also perpetuates the blame of Jewish people for the death of Christ by adding a crucified figure into the work. Thus, one can only assume from this that Jews are in alliance with Satan, Jews are to blame for the death of Christ, and Jews are malicious people not to be trusted lest you want to die from poison or any other problem in which they can be scapegoats. Crazy nonsensical beliefs...

Grim Statistics

Abdullah Ibrahim and Ekaya in Cape Town

Seeing Abdullah Ibrahim, formerly known as Dollar Brand, at the Baxter Theatre in Cape Town in February 2013 was a treat. I attended the show with an African-American, Trayvon, from the Twin Cities. We both love jazz, and it is indeed a rare treat to meet young people who appreciate jazz music. Before the concert began, we simply sat in our seats, not great seats, but from an angle where we could see Ibrahim’s back. We discussed great jazz albums and artists, as well as Louis Jordan (in addition to Bobby Hutcherson, Andrew Hill, Eric Dolphy, and Herbie Hancock) until Abdullah Ibrahim and Ekaya came on stage. Abdullah Ibrahim, a Coloured South African jazz pianist active since at least the 1950s, has a mostly African-American band with an amazing Ghanaian bari sax. The entire band was 7 people, Abdullah Ibrahim on piano, the African-Americans on alto/flute, tenor, drums, bass, and trombone, and the bari sax played by a dark-skinned, bald-headed Ghanaian. The concert lasted from 8 to 11 with a 15 minute intermission.

We sat next to a German old man from Hamburg, a white Capetonian, and, to Trayvon’s right, an older white couple. Most of the people in attendance were white, like jazz shows in the US, but with some conspicuous Coloured and blacks in attendance. I did not spot too many young faces there, unless they were with their parents or relatives. The woman to Trayvon’s right also said that Abdullah Ibrahim, or Dollar Brand, established himself in Germany at some point and bought her tickets at the last minute. For about R250, the concert was by no means cheap, but definitely worth every penny to hear a legendary South African jazz musician (as well as the composer of the highly-acclaimed anti-apartheid anthem, “Mannenberg.” Alas, Ibrahim did not play the show, even after someone in the audience shouted, “Mannenberg!” Abdullah Ibrahim’s wife was also in attendance, a Japanese tour group, and a mostly packed audience. There were some seats that were open after the intermission, but it was a successful show in terms of turnout.

The concert consisted of some blues numbers, 2 long, introspective Ibrahim piano solos, 1 funky track whose rhythm was built by the bassist and drummer, some ballads and midtempo pieces and the concert ended with what Ibrahim referred to as their theme, “Water from an Ancient Well.” Alas, no “Mannenberg” or characteristically “Cape Jazz” or “South African-inflected” jazz. Abdullah Ibrahim spoke to the audience, alternating between English and Afrikaans, as well as making a joke about Muslims playing in the Christmas marching bands of Cape Town. The band then proceeded to play a Christmas tune in the traditional style while Ibrahim accompanied the drummer with a tambourine. Unfortunately, it was difficult to understand Ibrahim at times, partly because he did not speak very loudly, and because of his frequent use of Afrikaans, his native tongue. But he made the crowd laugh a few times and clearly is an experienced performer.

Ibrahim’s second piano solo was more moving and interesting than the first while the bari sax featured some great blues-drenched soloing. One song almost sounded like Ellington’s “Fleurette Africaine” and Ibrahim also referenced other jazz legends’ music in the beginning of some of his own compositions, including a Monk song. Other highlights included the ballads and a rousing version of “Summertime” where an old Capetonian saxophonist joined Ibrahim and Abdullah on stage. Alas, the drummer only had one ‘shine’ or solo but the alto saxo player and flutist had some great solos for ballads and blues. Anyway, after almost 3 hours and calls for an encore, the Ibrahim ended the show. I could not help but notice how often he made his bandmates bow for applause at the end of the first set and afterwards. Also, he often did not take too many solos while playing with the band, accompanying them or simply directing/leading them. Overall, it was a good show and worth R250 for 3 hours of jazz, but it was disappointing that there was no encore. Also, I had been hoping to hear “Mannenberg” and more Cape Jazz-sounding material. Nevertheless, Ekaya was great, producing such a large orchestral sound with only 6 people. And I will never forget seeing a South African jazz legend live in Cape Town. 

Growing Up Black in White Supremacist South Africa: Down Second Avenue

Es'kia Mphahlele’s Down Second Avenue was a thrilling tale of growing up black in white supremacist South Africa. Moreover, I learned that marabi music, the earliest South African jazz from the townships, was created in Marabastad, a township of Pretoria where Mphahlele lived. Given to me by a South African woman from Cape Town who sees herself as having studied apartheid too much, gladly parted with the text. As someone whose only text dealing with apartheid was Kaffir Boy (which contains horrific scenes of discarded infants in trash heaps and child prostitution, leading to its banning in many US schools), Mphahlele’s story of an educated but impoverished black South African trying to transcend rigid racial hatred seems like an important precursor to the future narratives of blacks resisting apartheid. However, unlike what I recall of Kaffir Boy, Down Second Avenue contains surprisingly little information about key moments in the life of any young person, and also leaves out significant details about his personal life. For instance, how is it that he has a brother and a sister, but they are rarely discussed in any intimate way? Even later in life, when describing his marriage to Rebecca and their children, he never gives their names and his writings seems to suggest apathy to his progeny. But perhaps that general lack of description of loved ones and other moments in his adolescence reflect the psychological trauma he experienced, as well as bouts of depression, anger, restlessness, and the desire to leave, culminating in his move to Nigeria to teach. 

The novel also contained useful information regarding race relations between Indians and Blacks, as well as whites and blacks in Pretoria. The Afrikaans-speaking whites, unsurprisingly in Pretoria, tend to be more racist whereas the English whites and Europeans were more liberal. Indeed, Es’kia befriends many whites as well as some Coloureds during the course of his schooling and employment. Although at times mired in anger, he also knew very well that the only reason white supremacy could function so effectively in South Africa was with the complicity and active support of many non-whites, including the corrupt African policemen who actively protected pass laws and targeted other Blacks. Moreover, his account of his Aunt Dora’s fight with Abdool, the Indian shopkeeper, was also hilarious for the imagery of a heavyset woman publicly beating a man. The debates he represents between the ANC and the All Africa Convention were also interesting for the commentary among activists and leftists about a multiracial future for South Africa.

Overall, a fascinating account of a region of South Africa I knew little about, albeit written in a rather normative style. Perhaps the Capetonian who gave me the book was correct (as well as the author himself, who finds the style taken up by anti-apartheid writers as forced) in that much of the anti-apartheid literature becomes banal due to its proliferation and identical messages by authors who see themselves as bearers of a new message for racial harmony and progress. Indeed, I may have to return to Coetzee’s Life and Times of Michael K. for a good apartheid-era novel and discover some other works I have missed. Perhaps Nadine Gordimer is next on my list of authors, who is mentioned in Down Second Avenue.

South African Cities

The following is the racial demographics and residential areas of Joburg and other South African cities (Durban, East London, and Pretoria). Blue represents Black African, orange is Coloured, green is Indian or Asian, and purple is White. The population data is based on 2001 South African census data, which definitely undercounts the population of metropolitan areas. One dot represents 25 people. Also, I got this from Adrian Frith's site.

Here is Johannesburg

Durban, a very Indian city

East London

Pretoria

And Port Elizabeth

And Bloemfontein