THE bitter war in Biafra (see THE WORLD) is a symbol of the continent's divided soul, and the most discouraging example so far of a profound impasse that is crippling many of Black Africa's 30 newly independent states. It is an impasse between tribe and nation, which is also a clash between tradition and change, fact and aspiration.
On one side is tribalism: the tenacious loyalty of 140 million Africans to primitive subgroups that represent certainty amid bewildering social and economic upheavals. On the other side is nationalism: the heady hope of creating modern states that will lead to African affluence and power. Until African leaders unify divisive tribes and build strong economies, the dream cannot be attained. Over most of Africa, false expectations of instant progress have incited unrest and power drives by rival tribes. Exploited by ambitious politicians, tribalism has become the chief complication of almost every major African conflict.
Shock Absorber
But tribalism is not only the black man's burden; it is also the ground of his being, and therein lies its strength. Nearly every Black African, even the most elegant minister in Savile Row suits, with a Mercedes in his garage, is a member of one of the continent's 6,000 tribes. However cosmopolitan he may be, he still derives his primary identity from his tribe, together with a loyalty toward his fellow tribesmen that is as fierce as is his utter disregard for any outsider. Makonde tribesmen still slit their cheeks to identify themselves to the world, but it is unnecessary surgery. So inseparable are the images of a man and his tribe in Africa that it is as if he carried an invisible mark on his skin.
Tribal lines, not national boundaries, make up the true map of Black Africa. The Congo's latent disorder stems more than anything else from its stubborn attempt to throw a skein of nationhood over no fewer than 200 tribes. Even tiny Dahomey numbers more than a dozen tribes within its borders. Worse for national unity, tribalism is growing almost everywhere as a cushion against the shocks of transition into the 20th century. In Africa's multiplying ghettos, tribal "unions" or associations flourish as a kind of foreign embassy in the city for dazed tribesmen from the country. When things go wrong, the tribe itself remains, as Robert Frost said about home, the one place where, "when you have to go there, they have to take you in."
Says Ivory Coast President Felix Houphouet-Boieny: "Tribalism is the scourge of Africa." Unless tribalism goes, adds Kenya's Minister of Economic Planning Tom Mboya, "much of what we have achieved could be lost overnight." Yet no African leader would stamp out tribalism overnight, even if he could. For safety's sake, the leaders themselves pack their governments with fellow tribesmen. Houphouet-Boigny keeps Baule kinsmen in key posts. In his heyday, Ghana's deposed Kwame Nkrumah heavily favored aides from his Nzima tribe. Mboya, for all his brilliance, may never reach top power in Kenya because he belongs not to the dominant Kikuyu, but to the Luo. So it goes: the central fact of Africa is that no leader can ignore the tribal grouping of peoples linked by common ancestors, speech and customs.