Christopher Ouma and Madhu Krishnan

The small magazine has held a significant but understudied effect on not only the project of imagining Africa in the long twentieth century, but also of articulating projects of solidarity, intimacy and political action. As a key node within larger ecologies of print culture, the small magazine is notable for the ways in which its flexible form and sometimes eccentric modes of circulation trouble what have come to be seen as ‘orthodox’ or received wisdom as to the nature of self-fashioning and modernity on the African continent. While the ‘smallness’ of its form underlines its context as a site-specific platform of cultural production, it’s networks of circulation and the audiences and publics it convenes point to a wider and much more ambitious intention which cannot be reduced to simplistic or one-dimensional systemic models of understanding. As ‘form’ and therefore a ‘genre’ in the long twentieth century of African cultural production, the small magazine has convened various platforms for the articulation and intersection of various projects, often in intersectional logic; anti-colonialism, pan-Africanism, Anti-apartheid imagination and broader project(s) of decolonization during the second half of the twentieth century. This project seeks to examine how small magazines are able, through the networks they create scale up and scale down their visibility through various strategies of curation and self-fashioning which evolve and transform over time and space. It is the specific nexus of scalability, in tandem with the curatorial potentiality of the small magazine through various models of formal juxtaposition and intellectual patterning, we argue, which has lent it its importance as an archive of the present with respect to African models of intellectual production. Such strategies account for the longevity, political and cultural potency of the form which has had a significant footprint in the long twentieth century of political and cultural organization and the imagination of identity in the continent. The project draws from example in magazines such Transition, Black Orpheus, Nexus/Busara, Chimurenga Chronic, Kwani? amongst many others, exploring how media, platform, visibility, publicness, form and genre come together in the small magazine to produce new understandings of African models of modernity, coalition and solidarity.

This paper considers two periodicals published by black radical activists in the United States during the “New Negro” era of the early 20th century. Amid the outbreak of World War I, the Russian Revolution, and the stirring of anti-colonial movements in the global South, black Americans struggled to find new strategies for their liberation. This period in the U. S. was characterized by virulent Jim Crow segregation and discrimination, widespread racial violence, and the resulting “great migration” that fueled the movement of millions of black people from the rural South and the Caribbean to the urban North and West. Out of this maelstrom emerged a generation of New Negro Militants who deployed the press as a critical tool for organizing and critique. They forged a black radical imagination through print culture that, in keeping with the themes of this workshop, supported a black counter-public, alternative forms of cultural expression, and transnational projects.

​The Messenger was founded in 1917 by A. Philip Randolph and Chandler Owen, young migrants from the South who sought intellectual and political inspiration in Harlem. They found it in the burgeoning Socialist Party which actively sought black participation in the quest for universal brotherhood. The Messenger brought together artists, poets, journalists, and activists who linked black American’s condition with the rapacity of empire and capitalism, and with the cause of anti-colonialism. Over time the magazine shifted its emphasis from socialist transformation to advocacy for black solidarity through trade unions. The Crusader, created by Caribbean-born activist Cyril Briggs in 1918, was a monthly magazine that blended black nationalism with Communist Party doctrine in calls for autonomy and self-determination. Briggs established The Crusader to “promote the idea of self-government for the Negro and Africa for the Africans,” he wrote in an early issue. Briggs is best known for his leadership of the African Blood Brotherhood (ABB) founded in 1919, a quasi-secret society linked to the Communist Party that advocated armed self-defense. The Crusader would become the ABB’s official organ in 1921. The two magazines debated—often virulently — the merits of black nationalism vs. interracial cooperation while also sharing an overlapping network of editors and contributors who moved among ideological camps. In the process these periodicals created and sustained a radical black public sphere. These editors and their periodicals grappled with the same challenges as their 21st century counterparts — state repression, lack of resources, and disagreements within their communities.

Between 1914 and 1945, the India Office maintained a growing list of “proscribed publications” featuring any literature deemed seditionist, dissident or provocative against the British Empire. The historical record suggests that hundreds of titles and thousands of physical copies of books, pamphlets, newspapers and other published material were confiscated during this period. This paper excavates this banned bibliography to understand the formation of global anti-colonial imaginaries. Based on archival work in the United Kingdom, Germany, the Netherlands, and United States, this paper traces some of these revolutionary texts as well as the context in which they circulated. For the purposes of this presentation, this paper will follow the circulation and censorship of the revolutionary periodical ‘The Masses of India’ published in Paris in the mid 1920s, to reflect both on anti-colonial imaginations as well as into the colonial mind.

This paper seeks to make two interventions. First, it thinks critically about the conditions of possibility that allowed for the circulation of dissident texts. Police archives, intelligence records and diplomatic correspondence show that port cities were critical to the formation of the global anti-colonial. Anti-colonialists were able to subvert networks of capital, commodities and labor and employ them as means to carry out propaganda. Dissident networks often mapped on to existing trade and shipping routes. These records also show the activities of the sailors, dockworkers, small publicists and bookshop owners who were responsible for the smuggling of propaganda. This paper reads detailed police records against the grain to show that the development of this international community of radicals and revolutionaries often depended on the material work carried out by these subaltern figures.

Second, this paper will show that circulation of revolutionary texts allowed for the creation of a global anti-colonial imaginary. Newspapers such as ‘the Masses of India’ were published in European capitals and percolated through various colonial spaces. This newspaper, like many leftist organs, covered news of growing anti-imperial resistance not just in India but across the colonized world. This broad coverage brought various anti-colonial struggles into the same analytic paradigm. Furthermore, the transregional circulation of such texts allowed for members of distant and disparate anti-imperial movements to recognize in each other a commonality of experience. I contend that it is this mutual recognition that leads to the rise of universalist arguments against all imperial formations. In this way, this paper tells the story of the formation of an imagined community bound by an internationalist anti-colonial politics.

This study examines how the Early South African Black Press can be used to apply notions of decoloniality and multilinguals to the teaching of journalism and society in the South African context.  The study will be exploratory, and will use the three metaphors of coloniality, namely power, knowledge and being, to expose the ways in which journalism, a discipline which was once a disruptor, now needs to be disrupted due to the ways in which it has been co-opted into a neoliberal agenda that sees news as a commodity to be sold, rather than a public good.  The content, context and authors of material from the Early Indigenous South African Black Press, turn the notions explored in the journalism and society module on their heads and expose ways in which the discipline espouses coloniality, and they also provide an example of what is possible if one takes a decolonial approach. It also provides a model of how local media can employ multilingualism in ways that are successful.   The chapter will show how, by drawing on texts from the resistant black press, which was instrumental in keeping African people’s voice alive during the many decades of oppression, journalism can be taught differently in order to re-center the voices of the marginalised, and speak to people in their own languages. The key texts to be considered are from the newspaper Abantu-Batho (The People) which was published in English, isiXhosa, isiZulu, seTswana and seSotho between 1912 and 1931.  It was Founded in Johannesburg with a grant from the queen regent Nabotsibeni of Swaziland on the advice of Pixley ka Izaka Seme, a solicitor to the Swazi monarchy at the time.

Abstract: The Industrial and Commercial Workers’ Union of Africa (ICU) and its charismatic leader Clements Kadalie dominated the Southern African political landscape of the 1920s. In 1927, the Messenger periodical in New York heralded the ICU as ‘the largest economic organisation of black men in the world’, and a decade later, C. L. R. James likened Kadalie to Toussaint L’Ouverture, proclaiming, ‘It will be difficult to overestimate what Kadalie achieved between 1919 and 1926 . . . . The real parallel to this movement is the mass rising in San Domingo’. Fundamental to the ICU’s success was its widely read magazine, the Workers’ Herald (1923-29). Although the Workers’ Herald reflected the ICU’s many competing political traditions, the revolutionary message expressed in the report on the 1925 annual conference was a constant: ‘We must prevent the exploitation of our people on the mines and on the farms, and obtain increased wages for them. We shall not rest there. We will open the gates of the Houses of Legislation, now under the control of the white oligarchy, and from this step we shall claim equality of purpose with the white workers of the world to overthrow the capitalist system of Government and usher in a co-operative Commonwealth one’. In addition to tracing the revolutionary discourse of the Workers’ Herald, the paper addresses several further questions. First, the relationship between the Workers Herald and its competitors within the public and counter-public spheres is investigated. Both the white and the black South African press reported negatively on the ICU, though the impact of the black press’s hostile coverage was moderated both by the low literacy levels of its potential readership, and by the fact that the Workers’ Herald attracted many more readers. The literacy rate among black South Africans was 9, 9% in 1921 and by 1931 had risen only to 12, 5%. With circulation figures of 27,000 at its peak in May 1927, the Workers’ Herald was by far the most popular newspaper (2,300 for Imvo Zabantsundu; 3,000 for Ilanga lase Natal; 4,000 for the ANC’s mouthpiece Abantu Batho; and 3,000-6,000 for the Chamber of Mines-backed Umteteli wa Bantu). Secondly, the (critical and utopian) cartoons in the Workers’ Herald are considered. Drawn by James Christie Scott, the cartoons communicated the ICU message to semi-literate and illiterate union members. Thirdly, the relationship of the Workers’ Herald to transnational trade union, anti-colonial and anti-racist publications is discussed. By contrast to the hostile Southern African political landscape, the ICU and the Workers’ Herald received a generous reception in the North Atlantic counter-public sphere, with positive reports on the ICU appearing in Garveyite, socialist and communist publications in the United States, Britain, Australia and the Soviet Union, and articles by Kadalie published in A. Philip Randolph’s The Messenger and R. Palme Dutt’s The Labour Monthly. Finally, the ICU’s message of international socialism communicated via the Workers’ Herald is contrasted to the nationalist ideology expressed by the African National Congress (ANC), both in the 1920s and the 2020s.