RIP HARRY BELAFONTE
(1-3-1927 == 25-04-2023)
.jpg)
For
just a few minutes in 1963, I had the privilege and honour to shake hands with
the great Harry Belafonte in Nairobi. The late Pius Menezes who was responsible
for bringing many, many international celebrities to Kenya had asked me to come
and join him for a cup of tea at his shop in the old Ambassador Building (quite
new in 1963). I used to meet him there quite regularly. The moment I stepped in
the doorway, I almost fell to the floor … there standing in real life was the
great Harry Belafonte. I was over every planet in the universe. Pius had invited
Harry and the South African superstar Miriam Makeba to Kenya’s independence
celebrations. Later in the week Pius and Quitty held a reception for all of
Pius’ international guests at the Goan Gymkhana. That magical moment with Harry
Belafonte has lived with me all of my life.
Here
is a report of that time:
BY DENNIS MCDOUGAL (Los Angeles times)
JUNE 23,
1985
It’s
been more than 20 years since the king of “Day-O” has had a hit in his native United
States--but Harry Belafonte is still something of a living legend in Africa.
The Harlem-born high school dropout has become a kind of calypso statesman who
seems to carry more clout around with him in places like Ethiopia and Tanzania
than a Soviet foreign minister or an American secretary of state.
From
Nairobi to Khartoum, his recognition factor alone is probably 10 times that of
Andrei Gromyko and George Shultz put together.
(Interestingly,
in the official Ethiopian press--which diligently tries not to credit the
United States for the aid that makes up about 40% of Ethiopia’s total relief
imports--Belafonte is characterized as a “Caribbean” singer.)
During Kenya’s independence
celebration in 1963, Belafonte and singer Miriam Makeba were invited to sing,
but they weren’t relegated to some obscure corner of the room after their
performances. Kenya President Jomo Kenyatta sat Belafonte down at the head table,
right next to Prince Philip. The singer watched Philip fold up the Union Jack
that once flew over the Kenyan capital of Nairobi and take it home to his wife
in Buckingham Palace as a memento of a British colonialism that was in its
final throes in Africa.
Twenty-three years later, during these diseased days of African
famine and pestilence, Belafonte’s early ties to an independent Africa are
turning out to be curiously important. Belafonte, who finishes up his own
diplomatic mission to Africa this week, is emerging as a leading figure in a
new kind of foreign policy that circumvents both Washington and Moscow.
“If we had struck an honorable treaty
with a lot of these countries at the end of the colonial era, a lot of these
troubles we are facing with them today would be non-existent,” Belafonte told
Calendar during a break last week in his USA for Africa tour of Eastern Africa.
“So a lot of moderate guys are killed off in the beginning of
African independence and we just polarized everything. In come the Soviets and
they find this situation where they can push their thing. A lot of the
loyalties you find in a lot of these countries can be traced back to the rebels
who fought against the colonialist onslaught. The only really friendly persons
around for a lot of these guys--especially young minds caught up in the fever
of independence--were the Marxist forces.”
Though carefully reasoned, Belafonte diplomacy certainly isn’t the
kind of policy analysis issued by State Department pundits. He doesn’t always
go through channels. He tolerates, sidesteps, even ignores government
bureaucracy. Instead, he croons his apolitical call to aid crippled
populations, regardless of their politics, directly to the people.
Two weeks ago, the 57-year-old singer led the ubiquitous USA for
Africa delegation into the oft-times medieval world of East Africa. Belafonte’s
breakneck pace in covering four drought-plagued countries in 16 days wore out
several members of his entourage, but there seems to be little question that it
has been effective.
“He’s like something of a god over here,” said Ken Kragen, the
manager of Kenny Rogers and Lionel Richie who co-founded and runs the fledgling
USA for Africa Foundation. “Mention Harry’s name and people fall down in front
of you. They’ll do anything.”
“There’s no question of its importance,” one American official of
an Addis Ababa-based private relief agency told Calendar. “He and this USA for
Africa thing are keeping the famine problem high in everybody’s minds.”
Where career diplomats have frequently
failed to obtain presidential audiences, Belafonte and friends have been
ushered in on the simple strength of his mythical name. Both Ethiopian Marxist
Chairman Mengistu Haile Mariam and Tanzanian Socialist President Julius
Nyerere--chairman of the Organization of African Unity--welcomed the chance to
chat with the man who indelibly etched such immortal lines as “Come mister
tally man, tally me banana” forever into the American consciousness.
And Belafonte still had time to take Julie, his wife of 28 years,
to a command performance (by Belafonte’s command, as it turned out) of
“Othello,” acted by the Ethiopian National Theater troupe in Ethiopia’s Amharic
tongue.
If Belafonte had indeed been from the Caribbean, he might never
have become Hollywood’s unofficial ambassador to Black Africa.
“As a kid growing up in Harlem in the 1930s, most of my perceptions
of Africa were really like what the movies said,” Belafonte told Calendar. “It
was what Johnny Weissmuller did in the trees and all of these frightened
natives who stumbled through their own environment, who were afraid of their
own shadows.
“So, as a kid, if you are psychologically bombarded with
this--when you grow up you begin to believe that blacks are inferior, blacks
are stupid--you somehow feel that you are legitimately the cursed race.”
When he joined the Navy during World War II, Belafonte’s segregated
all-black division exposed him for the first time to black intellectuals and
gave him his first taste of the 1940s and ‘50s Back-to-Africa movement, spurred
on by Dr. W. E. B. DuBois, an educator and founder of the National Assn. for
the Advancement of Colored People.
“I ran into a bunch of guys who were much older than me who went
to college at Tuskegee or Howard University. And they were talking very
politically, about the war and about Ethiopia when the Italians did their
invading.
“I didn’t understand all that much what they were talking about.
But one of them gave me a book called ‘The World and Africa’ by Dr. DuBois, and
it was my first major exposure to anything other than the Tarzan concept of
Africa.”
He made up his own bibliography of African source texts from
DuBois’ footnotes and went to the Chicago Public Library to check them out. The
librarian told him the list was too long, so. . . .
“I told her just to give me everything by this fellow ibid because his name showed more than
anyone else’s in the footnotes,” Belafonte recalled.
Perhaps his own ignorance and the humiliation it bred made him all
the more sensitive to the needs of both individuals and nations who haven’t had
the twin breaks of affluence and education.
“My family was peasants. They cut bananas and harvested sugar cane
for rich British landowners on a farm in Jamaica before they came to New York.
“So, a lot of times, I have to make the observation that if I were
ground under somebody’s boot and somebody told me I had a choice between going
to the hills and fighting for my independence or sitting down and waiting
patiently for the boot to be removed from my neck, I’d take independence every
time.”
That same nationalistic fervor among the underclasses from Jamaica
to most of Africa came with the end of World War II, according to Belafonte.
“At the end of the war, I think most of the countries thought they
could go back to business as usual. But they discovered something that had not
existed before: wars of liberation.
“The French found out when the Vietnamese said, ‘Uhn uh, we fought
the Japanese as allies, we had a taste of independence, and we want it too.’
“The British found the same thing in Kenya. The Belgians found it
in the Congo. All over the globe, there was this massive eruption of people
whose appetite was whetted with a new desire for independence and
self-determination.”
Ethiopia is a textbook case of how U.S. policy failed, according
to Belafonte. There, Emperor Haile Selassie I ruled with an iron hand until he
was overthrown by Mengistu in 1974. Despite the gross inequities of his
government, rewarding a tiny ruling elite while most of the country lived in
abject poverty, the United States supported and recognized his regime for
almost 50 years.
“I don’t know if the West gave the Ethiopians a lot of options.
They chose Marxism. But no matter what I think about an ideology, I have to put
it into a context.
“I find Marxism and communism as diverse as Christianity. You got
your Roman Catholics, you got your Mormons, you got your Episcopalians, you got
your evangelical groups. So I can’t come to a place like Ethiopia with so
simplistic a point of view as Marxism is bad or good.
“As China has visibly displayed, there is a very different line
between what they want to do and what the Soviets want to do. Maybe there’s a
different line with Ethiopia too.”
Belafonte diplomacy doesn’t always go through channels. He
tolerates, sidesteps, even ignores government bureaucracy. Instead, he croons
his apolitical call to aid crippled populations directly to the people.
(You will have your own favourites,
but here is a small selection of Harry’s greatest hits: Matilda, Dayo,
Island in the Sun, Man Smart, woman smarter, Scarlet Ribbons, Come Back Liza,
There’s a Hole in the Bucket, Banana Boat Song, Mary’s Boy Child, Coconut
Woman, God Bless the Child, Angelina …)
.jpg)
Comments