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I Write What I Like: Selected Writings
"The most potent weapon in the hands of the oppressor is the mind of the oppressed." Like all of Steve Biko's writings, those words testify to the passion, courage, and keen insight that made him one of the most powerful figures in South Africa's struggle against apartheid. They also reflect his conviction that black people in South Africa could not be liberated until they united to break their chains of servitude, a key tenet of the Black Consciousness movement that he helped found.
I Write What I Like contains a selection of Biko's writings from 1969, when he became the president of the South African Students' Organization, to 1972, when he was prohibited from publishing. The collection also includes a preface by Archbishop Desmond Tutu; an introduction by Malusi and Thoko Mpumlwana, who were both involved with Biko in the Black Consciousness movement; a memoir of Biko by Father Aelred Stubbs, his longtime pastor and friend; and a new foreword by Professor Lewis Gordon.
Biko's writings will inspire and educate anyone concerned with issues of racism, postcolonialism, and black nationalism.
I Write What I Like contains a selection of Biko's writings from 1969, when he became the president of the South African Students' Organization, to 1972, when he was prohibited from publishing. The collection also includes a preface by Archbishop Desmond Tutu; an introduction by Malusi and Thoko Mpumlwana, who were both involved with Biko in the Black Consciousness movement; a memoir of Biko by Father Aelred Stubbs, his longtime pastor and friend; and a new foreword by Professor Lewis Gordon.
Biko's writings will inspire and educate anyone concerned with issues of racism, postcolonialism, and black nationalism.
216 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1978
About the author
Steve Biko
12 books164 followersStephen Biko was a noted anti-apartheid activist in South Africa in the 1960s and 1970s. A student leader, he later founded the Black Consciousness Movement which would empower and mobilize much of the urban black population.
While living, his writings and activism attempted to empower black people, and he was famous for his slogan "black is beautiful", which he described as meaning: "man, you are okay as you are, begin to look upon yourself as a human being".
Since his death in police custody, he has been called a martyr of the anti-apartheid movement.
While living, his writings and activism attempted to empower black people, and he was famous for his slogan "black is beautiful", which he described as meaning: "man, you are okay as you are, begin to look upon yourself as a human being".
Since his death in police custody, he has been called a martyr of the anti-apartheid movement.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 182 reviews
May 9, 2012
I live in the city where he was murdered. Some people here don't like it when i voice the notion that we still bear a collective shame over this. They don't like most of the notions I voice, come to think of it. I read this book in Dublin in 1993, when I spent a year wandering aimlessly around Europe while my country burned. It's hard to believe he was in his twenties when he wrote most of these things. His thinking was way ahead of his time. I find it terribly sad how the ANC never mentions him (he wasn't an ANC man). What he said is way too important to be ignored like that.
There should be a statue of him here in this town to remind us. But no. Instead they want to change it's name to Mandela Bay, even though Mr Mandela barely ever set foot here.
There should be a statue of him here in this town to remind us. But no. Instead they want to change it's name to Mandela Bay, even though Mr Mandela barely ever set foot here.
March 19, 2024
A collection of writings by Steve Biko, remarkable, perceptive and articulate. Biko was an icon for those of us on the left when I was at university and developing my political thinking. Killed whilst in custody at the age of thirty, he is often regarded as one of the foremost thinkers about racism and was influential in the development of the Black Consciousness Movement. Biko was an anti-apartheid activist and African socialist. In 1968 he helped to found the South African Students Organisation (SASO). He was also involved in the founding of the Black People’s Convention (BPC). His life is depicted in the film Cry Freedom, Denzel Washington playing Biko.
Biko outlines the development of SASO and the BPC and the need for black people to organise themselves without the help or support of whites:
"Blacks are tired of standing at the touchlines of a game that they should we playing ... They want things for themselves and all by themselves"
He analyses white racism in the South African context and is critical of the role of white liberals in these terms:
"expecting the slave to work together with the slave-master's son to remove all the conditions leading to the former's enslavement"
He rejects white values as being inextricable from the culture of domination, exploitation and oppression and he argues the type of integration the liberals wanted was flawed:
"an integration based on exploitative values ... in which Black will compete with Black, using each other as rungs up a step ladder leading them to white values ... in which the Black person will have to prove himself/herself in terms of these values before meriting acceptance and ultimate assimilation, and in which the poor will grow poorer and the rich richer in a country where the poor have always been Black"
He also articulates the philosophy and rationale of Black Consciousness. The most powerful parts of the book are the two chapters at the end which are transcripts of Biko’s cross examination in court where he very clearly outlines his philosophy and political aims:
‘There is no running away from the fact that now in South Africa there is such an ill distribution of wealth that any form of political freedom which does not touch on the proper distribution of wealth will be meaningless. The white have locked up within a small minority of themselves the greater proportion of the country’s wealth. If we have a mere change of face of those in governing positions what is likely to happen is that black people will continue to be poor, and you will see a few blacks filtering through into the so-called bourgeoisie. Our society will be run almost as of yesterday. So for meaningful change to appear there needs to be an attempt at reorganising the whole economic pattern and economic policies within this particular country.’
Those who knew Biko reflect on how intelligent and articulate he was and how keenly his loss was felt.
It has been noted that Biko did not really see a role for feminism in the Black Consciousness movement. I am sure his views would have developed had he lived, but nevertheless it is worth bearing in mind.
His reflection on death at the end is telling:
“You are either alive and proud or you are dead, and when you are dead you can’t care anyway. And your method of death can itself be a politicizing thing. So I said to them, listen, if you guys want to do this your way, you have got to handcuff me and bind my feet together, so that I can’t respond. If you allow me to respond I’m certainly going to respond. And I’m afraid you may have to kill me in the process even if its not your intention.”
Biko outlines the development of SASO and the BPC and the need for black people to organise themselves without the help or support of whites:
"Blacks are tired of standing at the touchlines of a game that they should we playing ... They want things for themselves and all by themselves"
He analyses white racism in the South African context and is critical of the role of white liberals in these terms:
"expecting the slave to work together with the slave-master's son to remove all the conditions leading to the former's enslavement"
He rejects white values as being inextricable from the culture of domination, exploitation and oppression and he argues the type of integration the liberals wanted was flawed:
"an integration based on exploitative values ... in which Black will compete with Black, using each other as rungs up a step ladder leading them to white values ... in which the Black person will have to prove himself/herself in terms of these values before meriting acceptance and ultimate assimilation, and in which the poor will grow poorer and the rich richer in a country where the poor have always been Black"
He also articulates the philosophy and rationale of Black Consciousness. The most powerful parts of the book are the two chapters at the end which are transcripts of Biko’s cross examination in court where he very clearly outlines his philosophy and political aims:
‘There is no running away from the fact that now in South Africa there is such an ill distribution of wealth that any form of political freedom which does not touch on the proper distribution of wealth will be meaningless. The white have locked up within a small minority of themselves the greater proportion of the country’s wealth. If we have a mere change of face of those in governing positions what is likely to happen is that black people will continue to be poor, and you will see a few blacks filtering through into the so-called bourgeoisie. Our society will be run almost as of yesterday. So for meaningful change to appear there needs to be an attempt at reorganising the whole economic pattern and economic policies within this particular country.’
Those who knew Biko reflect on how intelligent and articulate he was and how keenly his loss was felt.
It has been noted that Biko did not really see a role for feminism in the Black Consciousness movement. I am sure his views would have developed had he lived, but nevertheless it is worth bearing in mind.
His reflection on death at the end is telling:
“You are either alive and proud or you are dead, and when you are dead you can’t care anyway. And your method of death can itself be a politicizing thing. So I said to them, listen, if you guys want to do this your way, you have got to handcuff me and bind my feet together, so that I can’t respond. If you allow me to respond I’m certainly going to respond. And I’m afraid you may have to kill me in the process even if its not your intention.”
June 1, 2016
Read once in university, I decided to re-read I Write What I Like after getting it as a gift from a friend. It remains an absolutely phenomenal collection of ideology penned by the great Steve Biko. He should have been one of the greatest post-apartheid leaders of South Africa, instead he was brutally murdered by the apartheid police. It is such a devastating thought to imagine what South Africa would have looked like if he had lived. I am so glad I re-read this because (with age and experience) I understand so much more now, now that I am trying to learn as much as I can about white privilege. Biko's writing should be studied by all whites - his grasp on the racial policies of colonisation and the subsequent dehuminisation of people of colour is remarkable and eloquent. Educate yourself and challenge your own views - it is the only way to stem the flow of racism that still plagues almost every corner of the globe.
(5 stars for the Frank Talk columns, not rating the Aelred Stubbs biography at the end, which pales in comparison to the words of Biko).
(5 stars for the Frank Talk columns, not rating the Aelred Stubbs biography at the end, which pales in comparison to the words of Biko).
Read
February 23, 2013It was difficult to get into, but I suppose I was not ready for it at that point in time. So I parked it for over a year. When I did finally get into it I was absorbed. My own "Black consciousness" was awakened and I am now a better African than I was. I always say this book should be compulsory reading for our children and subsequent generations, lest they forget who they are. I know it will be compulsory in my home.
February 26, 2012
As a black South African born 10 years before democracy, it is only now that I am an adult that I see the effect that apartheid has had on the culture and value system of black South Africans in particular.
This book is an effective lesson to any South African that he is not a victim of his circumstances. Every man has the power to make the choice to change his life. A truly inspirational read.
This book is an effective lesson to any South African that he is not a victim of his circumstances. Every man has the power to make the choice to change his life. A truly inspirational read.
November 8, 2013
I loved this book. I love Steve Biko and this writing. I read The Sabi which was a personal account of life growing up in South Africa and references were made by the author Brown, to Biko and Ture. So I decided to read this book after reading The Sabi - and I am happy I did. In this book the author states that the time of Biko was never over. And I agree with Brown in her book - "It was never over".
Biko's book affirms the realities of the black experience and how it is incumbent on people to own their own identities, to claim it as a prerequisite for real freedom. For the African living in America, the best comparison would be to Malcolm X .. It is a great book and one that should be read by Africans in Africa and around its diaspora. The real freedom can only be defined by the African.
Biko's book affirms the realities of the black experience and how it is incumbent on people to own their own identities, to claim it as a prerequisite for real freedom. For the African living in America, the best comparison would be to Malcolm X .. It is a great book and one that should be read by Africans in Africa and around its diaspora. The real freedom can only be defined by the African.
December 21, 2011
He had the charisma of Mandela, the courage of Hani and the intellectual capacity of Sobukwe and Mbeki....Dead before 30 at the hands of apartheid...
March 22, 2011
Insight into the mind of one of the most inspirational and unique South African struggle heroes. Where others were fighting for freedom, he was trying to free the african mind (decolonsing the mind). It's one of the most beautifully written books and makes you proud of being a South African, challenging you to do better.
October 30, 2014
" The most potent weapon in the hand of the oppressor is the mind of the oppressed".. Steve Biko will always be remembered as one of the most outspoken leaders in South Africa's liberation movement. An exceptional man with a profound intellect and mind the right attitude to change a nation. Such an inspiration book, added so much more depth to my perception..
September 13, 2014
I bought this book without any idea of what it was about. I liked the title.
I thought I had "race" figured out, especially after some very meaningful discussions over the past couple of years. I had certainly crystallized my own position (though I couldn't articulate it terribly well until earlier this year when I had to and was not entirely successful, which motivated me to truly get it right). But, troubling as it is to be placed in a group of people about whom fundamental things are assumed because of the way they look -- and aha! isn't that the point?! -- I made a great effort to open myself honestly to Biko's points, and even to his accusations, and I found my approach morphing.
I have a few issues with some of Biko's statements, viewpoints, and omissions, which will be enumerated here, but I don't mind at all. One of the things I've taken in so far is that contradictions don't always have to be resolved. Whether Biko is right that being at peace with inherent contradictions is an "African" trait in contrast with the "Western" need to approach everything scientifically to find an answer or create a synthesis of conflicting elements is another story, and it's something I would like to consider further regardless of the nationality/skin color/"sort" of people to whom these traits are (glibly?) attributed.
As someone with white skin, I have the very comfortable option, as a member of society's privileged and as a member of the majority (at least visually) in most of the places I've lived, to be able to say that I don't "identify" as a white person. That that's not one of my defining characteristics. That it doesn't say anything about who I am. That it's not important. With time and difficult discussions (with self and others), though, I've come to realize that the way we look most definitely shapes who we are. It's unavoidable, because we're shaped by the way people treat us and respond to us, and a lot of that has to do with first impressions, which are in turn largely formed by visual appearances (or, in the case of people who cannot see, other instantaneous cues as to "race" and class). When you're part of a visually obvious minority, you don't have the luxury of ignoring or forgetting what you look like, because society doesn't let you forget it for a minute. While I've experienced this to a very small degree, I acknowledge that the fact that my skin is lighter rather than darker than most Mexicans' means that my experience as an obvious minority was nothing like that of people who are constantly being taken for shoplifters, muggers, and intruders. I can't imagine living with that year in and year out, and I know I'm fortunate not to have to waste energy and imagination and anger on handling anything like it, because I'd go mad with rage. I wouldn't want to join hands with anybody who looked like the oppressors either, and I might well become militant about it. In fact, my positive experiences and my luck at being treated well in every country I've lived in have very much contributed to my peaceful disposition and my unshakeable conviction that people are people and that people should work together for good. I've had the good fortune, in other words, to end up that way because of the way I look. Because I'm white. It makes me feel dirty sometimes to be white (and here I knowingly say "be white" rather than "have white skin") and to resemble in whatever happenstance way the people who have historically killed, systematically destroyed, and evilly disrespected others who happen to have more melanin active in their skin.
In any case, back to the book. It's very difficult reading, and it brings up fundamental issues. Must we live with existential guilt if we've not risked our lives to save the lives of others? Or can we convince ourselves that it's acceptable to be courageous in other ways, that we're better off alive? Steve Biko wrote what he liked, in his words, but he also got himself murdered doing it. How much more could he have done for South Africans and others if he'd lived another 40 or 50 or 60 years? On the other hand, somebody had to do the awful work Steve Biko did, and I thank him for leaving our world a little less brutal than it would have been without his bravery. It's incredibly unpleasant to admit, as I've done after 100 pages or so of this book, that he must have been right -- that the blacks in apartheid South Africa had to go it alone, that they were not in a position to accept any aid of any sort from even well-meaning whites. I can just see myself being turned away, lowering my head and crying with frustration while walking away rejected by SASO. And I prickle constantly as I read. I tend to prickle when I'm told that, essentially, I can't understand and can't stand in solidarity because I don't look right. How did things get so bad? I don't know enough about the country's history to know how the country's horrid state of affairs went so far as to necessitate such radical action as Biko called for in his many speeches and articles, but I'm left with little doubt that by the time Biko reached the age of political consciousness, there was no other choice. This stings terribly but surely can't compare with the beehive in which countless blacks lived (miserably) and died (brutally) throughout the period of apartheid.
I can only be glad (and that's not the right word, because racially based police brutality is unconscionable and horrific) that, though things for black people now (in 2014) in the U.S. (according to some statistics) are even worse than in apartheid S.A., I'm welcome to take part in rallies and vigils and protests. The U.S. is in a much better place than S.A. was at the time in that there's a sense in the U.S. that everybody (with a halfway decent attitude) is in it together and that a tragedy for any individual or city or sector of society is a national tragedy, a human tragedy, something that affects us all. I wish Steve Biko had lived to see people of all appearances standing together for justice; it's clear from the writings he left behind that he never experienced such a thing.
Lastly, on reading the transcript of Biko's answers to the judge and the defense attorney while on trial: Biko was incredibly articulate, never condescending, and entirely reasonable, though he must have been simmering with rage particularly at that time. To have had such a thinker among us should be a point of pride for the human race.
"The rule of the oppressor is prescribed by the endurance of the oppressed."
I thought I had "race" figured out, especially after some very meaningful discussions over the past couple of years. I had certainly crystallized my own position (though I couldn't articulate it terribly well until earlier this year when I had to and was not entirely successful, which motivated me to truly get it right). But, troubling as it is to be placed in a group of people about whom fundamental things are assumed because of the way they look -- and aha! isn't that the point?! -- I made a great effort to open myself honestly to Biko's points, and even to his accusations, and I found my approach morphing.
I have a few issues with some of Biko's statements, viewpoints, and omissions, which will be enumerated here, but I don't mind at all. One of the things I've taken in so far is that contradictions don't always have to be resolved. Whether Biko is right that being at peace with inherent contradictions is an "African" trait in contrast with the "Western" need to approach everything scientifically to find an answer or create a synthesis of conflicting elements is another story, and it's something I would like to consider further regardless of the nationality/skin color/"sort" of people to whom these traits are (glibly?) attributed.
As someone with white skin, I have the very comfortable option, as a member of society's privileged and as a member of the majority (at least visually) in most of the places I've lived, to be able to say that I don't "identify" as a white person. That that's not one of my defining characteristics. That it doesn't say anything about who I am. That it's not important. With time and difficult discussions (with self and others), though, I've come to realize that the way we look most definitely shapes who we are. It's unavoidable, because we're shaped by the way people treat us and respond to us, and a lot of that has to do with first impressions, which are in turn largely formed by visual appearances (or, in the case of people who cannot see, other instantaneous cues as to "race" and class). When you're part of a visually obvious minority, you don't have the luxury of ignoring or forgetting what you look like, because society doesn't let you forget it for a minute. While I've experienced this to a very small degree, I acknowledge that the fact that my skin is lighter rather than darker than most Mexicans' means that my experience as an obvious minority was nothing like that of people who are constantly being taken for shoplifters, muggers, and intruders. I can't imagine living with that year in and year out, and I know I'm fortunate not to have to waste energy and imagination and anger on handling anything like it, because I'd go mad with rage. I wouldn't want to join hands with anybody who looked like the oppressors either, and I might well become militant about it. In fact, my positive experiences and my luck at being treated well in every country I've lived in have very much contributed to my peaceful disposition and my unshakeable conviction that people are people and that people should work together for good. I've had the good fortune, in other words, to end up that way because of the way I look. Because I'm white. It makes me feel dirty sometimes to be white (and here I knowingly say "be white" rather than "have white skin") and to resemble in whatever happenstance way the people who have historically killed, systematically destroyed, and evilly disrespected others who happen to have more melanin active in their skin.
In any case, back to the book. It's very difficult reading, and it brings up fundamental issues. Must we live with existential guilt if we've not risked our lives to save the lives of others? Or can we convince ourselves that it's acceptable to be courageous in other ways, that we're better off alive? Steve Biko wrote what he liked, in his words, but he also got himself murdered doing it. How much more could he have done for South Africans and others if he'd lived another 40 or 50 or 60 years? On the other hand, somebody had to do the awful work Steve Biko did, and I thank him for leaving our world a little less brutal than it would have been without his bravery. It's incredibly unpleasant to admit, as I've done after 100 pages or so of this book, that he must have been right -- that the blacks in apartheid South Africa had to go it alone, that they were not in a position to accept any aid of any sort from even well-meaning whites. I can just see myself being turned away, lowering my head and crying with frustration while walking away rejected by SASO. And I prickle constantly as I read. I tend to prickle when I'm told that, essentially, I can't understand and can't stand in solidarity because I don't look right. How did things get so bad? I don't know enough about the country's history to know how the country's horrid state of affairs went so far as to necessitate such radical action as Biko called for in his many speeches and articles, but I'm left with little doubt that by the time Biko reached the age of political consciousness, there was no other choice. This stings terribly but surely can't compare with the beehive in which countless blacks lived (miserably) and died (brutally) throughout the period of apartheid.
I can only be glad (and that's not the right word, because racially based police brutality is unconscionable and horrific) that, though things for black people now (in 2014) in the U.S. (according to some statistics) are even worse than in apartheid S.A., I'm welcome to take part in rallies and vigils and protests. The U.S. is in a much better place than S.A. was at the time in that there's a sense in the U.S. that everybody (with a halfway decent attitude) is in it together and that a tragedy for any individual or city or sector of society is a national tragedy, a human tragedy, something that affects us all. I wish Steve Biko had lived to see people of all appearances standing together for justice; it's clear from the writings he left behind that he never experienced such a thing.
Lastly, on reading the transcript of Biko's answers to the judge and the defense attorney while on trial: Biko was incredibly articulate, never condescending, and entirely reasonable, though he must have been simmering with rage particularly at that time. To have had such a thinker among us should be a point of pride for the human race.
"The rule of the oppressor is prescribed by the endurance of the oppressed."
June 17, 2011
This is an exceptional book of Steve Biko's writings. His analysis of apartheid got to the heart of the issue, systemic oppression through racism/white supremacy, and his goal of empowering Black Africans through Black Consciousness took this head on. His writing on integration and the deficiencies it had as an endpoint for Black liberation was one of the few I've ever read that effectively criticized this mode of achieving equality - because it doesn't directly address systemic oppression and superiority/inferiority complexes that won't be solved by integration alone. Not only does the book capture the power of his essays and articles but it provides contexts for each piece along with a closing from a personal friend that reveals more about his activism. I could probably write so much more about how much I was impacted by Biko's work but I wouldn't be doing it justice.
May 31, 2016
The grandfather of South Africa's anti-apartheid movement, Biko deconstructs racism, provides support for affirmative action, and logically annihilates apartheid supremely. Small book, heavy read. He was a giant amongst small-minded racists.
February 23, 2019
I missed Steve Biko.
I never met him, or at least I don't recall ever having met him, though some of my friends knew him quite well, so I knew him mainly through what other people told me about him. When I found this book of his writings in the local library, therefore, I wanted to read it to find out something about this person who had made such a strong impression on my friends.
This is therefore not so much a review as a response to the GoodReads prompt: What did you think?
Steve Biko was the founder of the Black Consciousness movement in South Africa in the late 1960s, and this book is a collection of some of his articles and speeches edited by Fr Aelred Stubbs of the Community of the Resurrection (CR), who was, in a sense, Steve Biko's spiritual father. It also includes a rather long (almost a third of the book) memoir by Fr Stubbs, which gives further information about his life and thought and deeds.
In reading the book I wished I had been able to meet Steve Biko, and to be able to discuss some of the things he wrote about. If I had it might have cleared up some of my misunderstandings about Black Consciousness, and perhaps might have helped to clear up some of his misunderstandings of liberalism.
In the papers collected here he writes very clearly about his vision for a democratic non-racial South Africa, and of the need for black people unite to pursue that ideal.
I missed Steve Biko because at the very time that he began his university studies in medicine I had gone overseas to study theology in England. In that time he made a big impact on the student scene in South Africa, in the Anglican Students Federation (ASF), in the University Christian Movement (UCM) and the National Union of South African Students (NUSAS). A year after returning to South Africa I moved to Namibia, and it was from there that I learned at second-hand of the Black Consciousness movement, mainly through reading a document "Towards a Black Theology" by a white Methodist minister, Basil Moore. It sounded like a rather bad idea. And Black Consciousness sounded rather abstract and wishy-washy. I had heard of and read about the Black Power movement in the USA, mainly in a series of booklets put out by the Sjaloom movement in the Netherlands, and that sounded much better that Black Consciousness.
Black Power seemed far more concrete, and Namibia got a taste of it when, in response to the World Court Judgement in mid-1971 that South Africa's rule of Namibia was illegal, the (black) Lutheran Churches issued an open letter pointing out some of the abuses of power by the South African authorities, followed six months later by a strike of Ovambo contract workers, who demonstrated their economic power, and shook the system of white rule. Looking back, I suppose it could be said to reflect the kind of thing that Steve Biko wrote about. He said that black people needed to become conscious of their humanity before they could throw off their chains, as if black consciousness were a kind of necessary precursor of black power. But in Namibia it was the other way round -- black people exercised their power. striking non-violent but telling blows against the white oppressors, and as a result of that became conscious of their humanity. And that was something that was very visible in the last six months of 1971. There was a change in attitude, a change in atmosphere, Before then many black people seemed to think of themselves as inferior, but after it many became aware of their humanity.
In 1972 I was deported from Namibia in order to be banned in South Africa (because of the sensitive international situation in Namibia after the World Court decision, the Department of Foreign Affairs was strongly opposed to people being banned in Namibia). In Durban I met Bennie Khoapa, the director of Black Community Programmes (BCP) and a close friend of Steve Biko. I learned of some of the good work they were doing, and also had a couple of brief chats with Barney Pityana (who was later to head t6he Human Rights Commission). But then they were banned, and I was no longer allowed to talk to them.
Thereafter much of my knowledge was mediated through white friends, who seemed to think that Black Consciousness was the mild and benevolent and safe thing, while Black Power was violent and dangerous. I still thought that Black Power was better because it was concrete, and Black Consciousness was too wishy-washy and abstract.
So I was glad, at last, to be able to read Steve Biko's clear and lucid explanations of what he was about in this book.
I also knew Fr Aelred Stubbs slightly, and was interested to learn that Steve Biko, like me, apparently referred to him and called him "Father Stubbs", whereas I referred to other members of the Community of the Resurrection by their first names -- Father Timothy, Father Dominic, Brother Roger, Brother Charles. And I learned a bit more about him from his memoir too, which may help to explain some things about the history of the Anglican Church in South Africa, though that is a story for another time.
Fr Aelred Stubbs also writes something about Steve Biko's religious beliefs, and whether he could be regarded as a Christian martyr. Though Steve Biko had been brought up as an Anglican, his beliefs about Christ could not really be regarded as orthodox (with a small "o"), but thinking of his life, and the manner of his death, perhaps the words on the tomb of St Alphege of Canterbury might be an appropriate epitaph for Steve Biko also: "He who dies for truth and justice dies for Christ."
I never met him, or at least I don't recall ever having met him, though some of my friends knew him quite well, so I knew him mainly through what other people told me about him. When I found this book of his writings in the local library, therefore, I wanted to read it to find out something about this person who had made such a strong impression on my friends.
This is therefore not so much a review as a response to the GoodReads prompt: What did you think?
Steve Biko was the founder of the Black Consciousness movement in South Africa in the late 1960s, and this book is a collection of some of his articles and speeches edited by Fr Aelred Stubbs of the Community of the Resurrection (CR), who was, in a sense, Steve Biko's spiritual father. It also includes a rather long (almost a third of the book) memoir by Fr Stubbs, which gives further information about his life and thought and deeds.
In reading the book I wished I had been able to meet Steve Biko, and to be able to discuss some of the things he wrote about. If I had it might have cleared up some of my misunderstandings about Black Consciousness, and perhaps might have helped to clear up some of his misunderstandings of liberalism.
In the papers collected here he writes very clearly about his vision for a democratic non-racial South Africa, and of the need for black people unite to pursue that ideal.
I missed Steve Biko because at the very time that he began his university studies in medicine I had gone overseas to study theology in England. In that time he made a big impact on the student scene in South Africa, in the Anglican Students Federation (ASF), in the University Christian Movement (UCM) and the National Union of South African Students (NUSAS). A year after returning to South Africa I moved to Namibia, and it was from there that I learned at second-hand of the Black Consciousness movement, mainly through reading a document "Towards a Black Theology" by a white Methodist minister, Basil Moore. It sounded like a rather bad idea. And Black Consciousness sounded rather abstract and wishy-washy. I had heard of and read about the Black Power movement in the USA, mainly in a series of booklets put out by the Sjaloom movement in the Netherlands, and that sounded much better that Black Consciousness.
Black Power seemed far more concrete, and Namibia got a taste of it when, in response to the World Court Judgement in mid-1971 that South Africa's rule of Namibia was illegal, the (black) Lutheran Churches issued an open letter pointing out some of the abuses of power by the South African authorities, followed six months later by a strike of Ovambo contract workers, who demonstrated their economic power, and shook the system of white rule. Looking back, I suppose it could be said to reflect the kind of thing that Steve Biko wrote about. He said that black people needed to become conscious of their humanity before they could throw off their chains, as if black consciousness were a kind of necessary precursor of black power. But in Namibia it was the other way round -- black people exercised their power. striking non-violent but telling blows against the white oppressors, and as a result of that became conscious of their humanity. And that was something that was very visible in the last six months of 1971. There was a change in attitude, a change in atmosphere, Before then many black people seemed to think of themselves as inferior, but after it many became aware of their humanity.
In 1972 I was deported from Namibia in order to be banned in South Africa (because of the sensitive international situation in Namibia after the World Court decision, the Department of Foreign Affairs was strongly opposed to people being banned in Namibia). In Durban I met Bennie Khoapa, the director of Black Community Programmes (BCP) and a close friend of Steve Biko. I learned of some of the good work they were doing, and also had a couple of brief chats with Barney Pityana (who was later to head t6he Human Rights Commission). But then they were banned, and I was no longer allowed to talk to them.
Thereafter much of my knowledge was mediated through white friends, who seemed to think that Black Consciousness was the mild and benevolent and safe thing, while Black Power was violent and dangerous. I still thought that Black Power was better because it was concrete, and Black Consciousness was too wishy-washy and abstract.
So I was glad, at last, to be able to read Steve Biko's clear and lucid explanations of what he was about in this book.
I also knew Fr Aelred Stubbs slightly, and was interested to learn that Steve Biko, like me, apparently referred to him and called him "Father Stubbs", whereas I referred to other members of the Community of the Resurrection by their first names -- Father Timothy, Father Dominic, Brother Roger, Brother Charles. And I learned a bit more about him from his memoir too, which may help to explain some things about the history of the Anglican Church in South Africa, though that is a story for another time.
Fr Aelred Stubbs also writes something about Steve Biko's religious beliefs, and whether he could be regarded as a Christian martyr. Though Steve Biko had been brought up as an Anglican, his beliefs about Christ could not really be regarded as orthodox (with a small "o"), but thinking of his life, and the manner of his death, perhaps the words on the tomb of St Alphege of Canterbury might be an appropriate epitaph for Steve Biko also: "He who dies for truth and justice dies for Christ."
July 24, 2011
On September 12 1977, Steve Biko was murdered by the South African Police in East London [my error - as has been noted, it was Port Elizabeth, but left here so the comments below make sense]: I lived in South Africa at the time and learned more about his death from clippings my mother sent me from our local provincial New Zealand newspaper than anything I read in South Africa – yet many of the white people I knew seemed almost relieved that another threat to their privilege had been set aside. Ironically, one of Biko's most powerful pieces of writing, included in this book, was about the role of fear in shaping South African politics and life; for him is was a determinant.
What shape South Africa might have now, had Biko survived, is anyone's guess – but he had the status at 31 (when he died) to have challenged the old guard that became the post-apartheid government. The pieces collected here, journalism, interviews, court testimony, give an excellent insight into the idea and goals of the Black Consciousness Movement – an approach to analysing apartheid that accentuated the colonial relationship, and turned back on white South Africa its elevation of 'race', of the politics of skin colour, to the primary factor in everything that was everyday life, and argued that before any meaningful change can be made, black people have to be confident in being black people. In apartheid era South Africa, where all of the social, cultural and political life was designed to make black people inferior and self-hating, this was a powerful challenge.
The collection is a powerful reminder the horrors that were apartheid, and a chance to wonder in a counterfactual way how things might have turned out had he survived 'interrogation'.
What shape South Africa might have now, had Biko survived, is anyone's guess – but he had the status at 31 (when he died) to have challenged the old guard that became the post-apartheid government. The pieces collected here, journalism, interviews, court testimony, give an excellent insight into the idea and goals of the Black Consciousness Movement – an approach to analysing apartheid that accentuated the colonial relationship, and turned back on white South Africa its elevation of 'race', of the politics of skin colour, to the primary factor in everything that was everyday life, and argued that before any meaningful change can be made, black people have to be confident in being black people. In apartheid era South Africa, where all of the social, cultural and political life was designed to make black people inferior and self-hating, this was a powerful challenge.
The collection is a powerful reminder the horrors that were apartheid, and a chance to wonder in a counterfactual way how things might have turned out had he survived 'interrogation'.
April 24, 2014
I'll start by saying I am biased - I'm a huge Biko fan and have admired him since I was a teenager growing up in the Eastern Cape, South Africa.
It was no surprise that I thoroughly enjoyed this collection and found them both challenging and moving. An exceptional man with a profound intellect and mind the right attitude to change a nation.
A lot of focus is on Mandela, but in my opinion the greatest South African leader that never was is Steve Biko. Read this book and see what you think.
It was no surprise that I thoroughly enjoyed this collection and found them both challenging and moving. An exceptional man with a profound intellect and mind the right attitude to change a nation.
A lot of focus is on Mandela, but in my opinion the greatest South African leader that never was is Steve Biko. Read this book and see what you think.
Want to read
November 22, 2017I like to get of this book I don't know it had come out
May 25, 2020
I had a brief period of obsessing about Biko in my youth, after I read and saw Cry Freedom as a teenager (not sure of which order), followed by Donald Wood's biography of him. Cry Freedom, like so many White accounts of Black struggle, romanticised Biko's life rather than his thought, and as I progressed into a better understanding of South African politics in my late teens, Biko was decidedly unfashionable, given he worked outside the ANC framework or that of any major surviving tradition. I am getting to the tail end of my year of reading 50 books by non-White authors, and I realised it was important to me to revisit Steve Biko in his own words, particularly given the impact Franz Fanon had made.
Biko didn't write for posterity, and this volume has a sense of urgency and specificity that comes with deep engagement in struggle. It is impossible to be aware that I am the last audience this was for. It was surprising to me how obvious so much of this seemed - so much energy in arguing the need for a Black-specific organisation to fight Black oppression (actually, non-White, but that was harder to make the sentence work).
The influence of Fanon is palpable. I think Biko only quotes Fanon once, but the emphasis on the psychology of oppression, and the need to revitalise African (although, unlike Fanon, pan-African) identity owes much to that viewpoint. It is hard too read between the lines to understand the commitment to working legally - and hence with significant restriction on activities. The editors note Biko's optimism about the regime, but I did not see that displayed. Rather, it seems to be a commitment to the importance of open symbols, defiance which is not in the shadows, even if that makes it less disruptive. The glorious title of this work, taken from the Biko (Frank Talk)'s newspaper column points towards a different concept of life, a refusal to withdraw from public space, that is reflected in the seriousness with which the testimony in the book is taken.
In a world which strongly - and rightly - reveres Nelson Mandela as an elder of the struggle against Apartheid, you can't help wondering what state the country would be in now if the youth leadership had also survived.
2019 Reading Challenge 2019 #32. A book author from Asia, Africa, or South America
Biko didn't write for posterity, and this volume has a sense of urgency and specificity that comes with deep engagement in struggle. It is impossible to be aware that I am the last audience this was for. It was surprising to me how obvious so much of this seemed - so much energy in arguing the need for a Black-specific organisation to fight Black oppression (actually, non-White, but that was harder to make the sentence work).
The influence of Fanon is palpable. I think Biko only quotes Fanon once, but the emphasis on the psychology of oppression, and the need to revitalise African (although, unlike Fanon, pan-African) identity owes much to that viewpoint. It is hard too read between the lines to understand the commitment to working legally - and hence with significant restriction on activities. The editors note Biko's optimism about the regime, but I did not see that displayed. Rather, it seems to be a commitment to the importance of open symbols, defiance which is not in the shadows, even if that makes it less disruptive. The glorious title of this work, taken from the Biko (Frank Talk)'s newspaper column points towards a different concept of life, a refusal to withdraw from public space, that is reflected in the seriousness with which the testimony in the book is taken.
In a world which strongly - and rightly - reveres Nelson Mandela as an elder of the struggle against Apartheid, you can't help wondering what state the country would be in now if the youth leadership had also survived.
2019 Reading Challenge 2019 #32. A book author from Asia, Africa, or South America
January 9, 2012
The founder of the black conscious movement.A composition of speeches and writing of Steve over a number of years.The book reflects on his sentiments what he views as the problem for the black man in South Africa and to a larger extent Africa.For the time it was written i would say it was indeed needed.This book is highly revered in the black conscious circles.I happen to come from the city where Biko was held captive before being transported to Pretoria so the historical context hits straight home
March 4, 2016
Intense read.
As a black youth existing in the same country that this man was morphed in, it really intensified my love for the African self.
A revolutionary writer. It surprises me how well articulated he was and how young he was too. An exceptional life ended at only 30 years of age. His posthumous affect he had on myself any many other people around the world is masterfully strengthened in this book.
As a black youth existing in the same country that this man was morphed in, it really intensified my love for the African self.
A revolutionary writer. It surprises me how well articulated he was and how young he was too. An exceptional life ended at only 30 years of age. His posthumous affect he had on myself any many other people around the world is masterfully strengthened in this book.
August 28, 2023
An incredibly fascinating book to read as someone who grew up in post-Apartheid South Africa. So many of Biko's insights are still relevant for today, and I am sad that we couldn't have his political input for the transition to democracy. I am generally not a fan of non-fiction, but Biko knows how to grab your attention
August 16, 2015
I read this book originally for the express purpose of using Steve Biko as a companion to a dialogue with Socrates (this was for a school essay). I'd heard of this man often but my understanding of political matters has been sketchy until recently and so I finally tackled him.
What has struck me is his lucidity, humanity and deep analytical skills. This is a man who didn't learn about oppression through reading the odd Buzzfeed article or Guerilla Feminism post - he analysed and deconstructed and diagnosed with the help of other intellectuals, a system which was responsible for a situation he didn't approve of. I found him so surprising, I was expecting something similar to the usual shrill "White, Capitalist Patriarchy" mantra but instead found trenchant political analysis - what a joy, a cerebral and nuanced understanding of Black Consciousness. Behind the rhetoric, behind the exaggerations, behind the obfuscating 'pain, pain, pain' sob stories, there is substance and I have found deep respect for Mr. Biko and all the men and women who formed his circle. While I didn't always agree with his thinking I always found it compellingly put and worthy of being discussed.
A few minor issues detracted heavily from the book, chief among these was the repetitiveness of many pieces. While Biko's writing is always a pleasure, it's cheapening if one is given the (virtually) same text with a few additions to it at multiple points in the book. Yes, I could skip it... But that's just lazy editing and sentiment. I especially disliked the inclusion of the "personal memoir" by the British Anglican Priest whose self-righteousness is astounding, whose authorial voice is stale compared to Biko's and who is self-indulgent in his section.
Overall this was a very different reading experience from what I expected. A happy accident to discover a person who I would've usually derided and changing that opinion so drastically.
What has struck me is his lucidity, humanity and deep analytical skills. This is a man who didn't learn about oppression through reading the odd Buzzfeed article or Guerilla Feminism post - he analysed and deconstructed and diagnosed with the help of other intellectuals, a system which was responsible for a situation he didn't approve of. I found him so surprising, I was expecting something similar to the usual shrill "White, Capitalist Patriarchy" mantra but instead found trenchant political analysis - what a joy, a cerebral and nuanced understanding of Black Consciousness. Behind the rhetoric, behind the exaggerations, behind the obfuscating 'pain, pain, pain' sob stories, there is substance and I have found deep respect for Mr. Biko and all the men and women who formed his circle. While I didn't always agree with his thinking I always found it compellingly put and worthy of being discussed.
A few minor issues detracted heavily from the book, chief among these was the repetitiveness of many pieces. While Biko's writing is always a pleasure, it's cheapening if one is given the (virtually) same text with a few additions to it at multiple points in the book. Yes, I could skip it... But that's just lazy editing and sentiment. I especially disliked the inclusion of the "personal memoir" by the British Anglican Priest whose self-righteousness is astounding, whose authorial voice is stale compared to Biko's and who is self-indulgent in his section.
Overall this was a very different reading experience from what I expected. A happy accident to discover a person who I would've usually derided and changing that opinion so drastically.
January 20, 2015
I watched Cry Freedom in 7th or 8th grade, and sort of subconsciously remembered that I had experienced some deep emotional upheaval during the film, and carried the name Biko through the years, though I never expanded my knowledge of the man until I rewatched the film and looked for Donald Woods book. But instead of reading "Biko", I read this. The portrayal of Biko in film always lays heavy just how articulate the man was, and I have found in this small collection of letters and transcripts that Biko has an incredible command over the English language, such that his racism as thesis explanation was probably clear to me in full for the first time in my life. As hard as it is sometimes for white males from an educated and middle class backgrounds to grasp the chief evil of racism, that it is something which is subconsciously pervasive in all that it has touched, a cage from which escape is impossible, Biko's writings made this condition of racism in general very clear. Though he speaks about the African's liking for strong and colorful language when describing wrongs, Biko goes about his analyses and critiques in a somewhat detached way, perhaps as a way of discrediting the stiff intellectualism against which he stood. He is someone of clear mind, of clear goals, which is especially impressive considering his multiple bans, imprisonments, and various socio-political restrictions on movements and interaction. From his writings, many ideas shoot forth, not just related to racism, but to other forces contrived as to the subjugation of others, and how these forces might be fought. I found this book enlightening, and Biko, through word, to be one of those most valued of voices, those that have spoken only once but have continual relevance. This is probably one of the few books I would recommend to just about anyone.
February 8, 2014
"The liberals are playing their old game.They are claiming a monopoly on intelligence and moral judgement and setting the pattern and pace for the realisation of the black mans aspirations... They want to shy away from all forms of "extremism", condemning "white supremacy" as being just as bad as "Black Power!". They vacillate between the two worlds, verbalising all the complaints of the blacks beautifully while skillfully extracting what suits them from the exclusive pool of white privileges"
Chapter 5
Applicable to the situation we have in Sweden today. Those who speak out against racism are seen as being just as questionable as those who hold racist views and sentiment.
Chapter 5
Applicable to the situation we have in Sweden today. Those who speak out against racism are seen as being just as questionable as those who hold racist views and sentiment.
April 27, 2015
I really enjoyed reading Biko's writings, speeches, interviews, etc. His genius really shines through, and in my opinion, his thought process was a pretty effective model for anyone interested in social justice. Be that as it may, the memoir appended to the book brought down the rating a bit. I appreciate the fact that Father Stubbs wrote it, but I thought it was oddly placed in a book that was more showcasing Biko's ideology than being a biography of some kind. It was also just too overtly religious in nature for a book that otherwise doesn't contain much on the subject. Still, this is one to go back to in the future, if only to reread certain passages.
September 3, 2022
I found this collection of writings an excellent analysis of race relations and the fight for civil rights. Biko discusses among other things, his strategy to fight South African apartheid, what room there is for the non-oppressed (at home and abroad) in this fight, and the merit of certain short-term goals (hint: integration isn’t always good). Always relevant, one cannot help but see numerous connections between the fight Biko describes, and the BLM movement or Israel-Palestine conflict. Brashly written, this book merits one eye critical and one eye sympathetic—if you can manage that, it’ll be worth a couple further rereads.
November 1, 2013
Two and a half stars. Interesting in many parts, but not always super readable. This book needs a serious update to all the introductions to all the essays, to put things better in context for the current reader (now it puts things in context for the reader in the 80s).
I won't read it again in full, but I may refer back to some essays later. I love that Biko quotes Karl Jaspers--I've never even heard of anyone else I know of actually reading The Question Of German Guilt.
Reading this book has been a long, multi-attempt, multi-year project. I'm relieved to be done.
I won't read it again in full, but I may refer back to some essays later. I love that Biko quotes Karl Jaspers--I've never even heard of anyone else I know of actually reading The Question Of German Guilt.
Reading this book has been a long, multi-attempt, multi-year project. I'm relieved to be done.
June 23, 2017
Biko is considered the father of the Black Consciousness movement in South Africa. He was murdered by South African police. Although he wrote in the 60's and 70's, his brilliance and vision for dignified communities and a better way of life continue to inspire.
February 22, 2009
I read select articles from this in World Lit. and fell in love with Biko. Here is someone who, against all odds, fought for what he believed in and didn't care who hated him for it. We had a discussion in class saying how Biko is pretty BA. I can't see how anyone aposed him.
January 17, 2014
I was just disappointed by the selected writings in this book. I really did try to find what everybody else was hyping the book about. I failed. That probably makes me 1 of the thousand that really love this book. Sorry, I couldn't help it.
Read
February 27, 2019I had to re-read this book to get the essence of each and every chapter/ speech, took me a while, but it is a deep book that young Africans should read throughout, I speaks about the identity of Africans, it promotes afrocentricism and black consciousness
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