Joseph Conrad's Heart of Darkness is widely regarded as an important critique of European colonialism and the racial hierarchy that it imposed on the African people. However, as this discussion shows, Conrad's own ethnocentrism is also present in his characterization of the native population of the Belgian Congo. The discussion addresses this paradox to the backdrop of a postcolonial African landscape.
Heart Darkness
The Postcolonial Landscape in Heart of Darkness
Published in 1899, the novella Heart of Darkness by Joseph Conrad is to this date described as an absolutely critical text in expanding the scholarly discourse on colonialism and its inherently related forces of racism, exploitation and ethnocentrism. By its intent, one finds a text that delivers an unflinching portrayal of the clearly abusive, unethical and racially-justified atrocities fueled by both the greed of imperialism and the sense of ethnic superiority shared by European opportunities in the postcolonial landscape of the African continent. The discussion hereafter will deal with these themes as they permeate the text by Joseph Conrad. But the discussion must also consider the reality that the text by Conrad is itself produced by a European writing just as the era of colonial expansion was drawing to a close. Though the author would write the text based on his firsthand observations stationed in the Belgian Congo, the ethnocentrism contained in the author himself cannot be overlooked. The essay here considers that even as the text was produced to yield an objective critique of colonialism, it would not yet be far enough removed from this subject to avoid some of its underlying causes. Therefore, the racism and ethnocentrism that the author seeks to describe are both also ever-present in the author's own words, ideas and portrayals regarding the postcolonial landscape of Africa. The discussion here attempts to reconcile the paradox between the author's intention and his own perspective.
Introduction:
The relationship between Europe and the various cultures that it has subjugated across centuries of occupation remains very much defined even today by the forces of colonialism. As a matter of course, the powers and monarchies of Europe dispatched their armies to the far corners of the undeveloped world, conquering native populations, exporting their commodities for material wealth and forever altering the landscapes of these occupied territories. In doing so, the Europeans imposed their cultural values, practices and interests on native populations with devastating effects for the survival of indigenous cultural structures and values. The era that would follow into the 20th century would bring a decline in colonial occupation but not in its impact. Indeed, what would remain behind and would continue to impact conditions even to present day would be a set of developing cultures in search of stability, leadership and any remnants of their own lost cultural identity. This postcolonial landscape would be especially appealing to European privateers and opportunists. The text by Joseph Conrad, Heart of Darkness, would be conceived right on the threshold of this post-colonial era. As such, it is a striking demonstration both of the way that that colonialism impacted the culture and condition in the developing sphere and, perhaps unintentionally, of the way that the Western intelligentsia of which Conrad was a part perceived those who were colonized. (Achebe 1977, p. 252)
The central focus in the discussion hereafter is the divide between the intention of the author and the perspective that is found throughout the text. Namely, Conrad may well be the direct inspiration for Marlow, whose horror at the mistreatment of the natives does not necessarily eclipse the racialist tendencies that are couched within. This means that through Marlow's eyes, Conrad portrays an accidental ethnocentrism that does not undermine his critique of colonialism but certainly calls into question his qualifications for truly understanding the experience of exploitation as felt by the Africans themselves. As the discussion on opportunism in the post-colonial landscape proceeds here, the paradox between the goal of the text and the orientation of the author will come into a greater focus.
Statement of Problem:
The primary problem around which much discussion has revolved is that concerning the post-colonial landscape presented in Joseph Conrad's text. Since its publication in 1899, Conrad's text has generated an important conversation on the way that European colonialism has impacted the developing sphere. The story of Charles Marlow's search for Mr. Kurtz against the deeply dysfunctional postcolonial landscape of the Belgian Congo would be received as an honest and objective portrayal of the after effects of colonialism with all its attendant racial hierarchy and exploitation. And yet, the text's source is a European himself, Polish-born and largely educated in Russia (Nassab, p. 3) Therefore, Conrad's text is not itself insulated from the very ethnocentrism about which the author writes. As a rather objective text on the impact of colonialism, one might argue that Conrad unabashedly describes the postcolonial landscape for those subjected to it and those guilty of its implementation without necessarily rendering a moral opinion. As the discussion here will show, and as the problem persists even into present-day academic debate, a post-colonial dialogue reveals that this amorality may give over to a passive sort of racism. This is especially problematic because the text by Conrad has become a widely embraced subject matter for scholastic and academic discourse, presenting a danger that such discourse is ultimately distorted by an implicitly racially-biased source material. (Achebe 1977, p. 251) This is the problem which has prompted the discussion engaged hereafter.
Analysis:
Representation of Colonialism:
In one sense, Heart of Darkness has been easy to categorize as a work of social-critique. The text brings light to the harsh mistreatment of African natives and the almost nihilistic opportunism of adventure or fortune-seeking Europeans. Even is the text conveys some of the themes of romanticism by conveying the European love for adventure, this adventure is itself characterized as conquest rather than personal enlightenment. A telling instance is one in which Marlow encounters a company man who seems to have no function other than to collect treasures and artifacts from the Third World. The author's description of the artwork on his walls comes to suggest a great deal about the way that European conquerors viewed their hosts. The natives were fascinating creatures whose customs were to be observed and marveled at as if a window to a point in distant history. Conrad, through Marlow, tells that "native mats covered the clay walls; a collection of spears, assagais, shields, knives, was hung up in trophies." (Conrad, p. 21)
The financially motivated and enterprising Europeans who came to inhabit the post-colonial landscape of Africa and who possessed a sense of unyielding superiority and entitlement over the natives, yet gathered up the artifacts of their culture as souvenirs from their conquest. And as the text by Miller (1985) points out, there is a certain recognition that persists throughout the text that it is the African culture which has some degree of permanency, whereas the European occupation is only a temporary phenomenon. As Miller points out, "the 'haze' is there all around on a dark night, but, like the meaning of one of Marlow's tales, it is invisible, inaudible, intangible in itself, like the darkness, or like that 'something great and invincible' Marlow is aware of in the African wilderness, something 'like evil or truth, waiting patiently for the passing way of this fantastic invasion.'" (Miller, p. 36)
Certainly here, and at countless other points in the text, we gain a clear sense of the sympathy that Marlow feels for the natives. Marlow is the conscience of the text. As he encounters others who extol Kurtz for his power and resourcefulness, he proceeds with a growing sense of doubt over the methods and madness of the object of his search. Through Marlow, Conrad explores his own guilt and disgust over the treatment of the African people. He recognizes their humanity, but as the discussion hereafter will show, he does so almost in spite of himself.
Conrad's Ethnocentrism:
Perhaps the most telling moment of a text -- which involves a great deal of soul-searching by its primary protagonist -- is that in which Marlow begins to realize the shared humanness of the African and European people. However, this revelation is not met with an increased sense of empathy and identification. To the contrary, the words that Conrad selects suggest that Marlow is instead disturbed to see humanity in so unbridled an incarnation. He is stricken with fear that there is a common strand connecting the civilized and mannered Europeans with the wild and unclothed Africans. Marlow observes the following:
"we are accustomed to look upon the shackled form of a conquered monster, but there -- there you could look at a thing monstrous and free. It was unearthly, and the men were -- No, they were not inhuman. Well, you know, that was the worst of it -- this suspicion of their not being inhuman. It would come slowly to one. They howled, and leaped, and spun, and made horrid faces; but what thrilled you was just the thought of their humanity -- like yours -- the thought of your remote kinship with this wild and passionate uproar. Ugly. Yes, it was ugly enough; but if you were man enough you would admit to yourself that there was in you just the faintest trace of a response to the terrible frankness of that noise, a dim suspicion of there being a meaning in it which you -- you so remote from the night of first ages -- could comprehend." (Conrad, p. 25)
In this description of the African people and their behavior, Conrad may perhaps have intended to imply the first faint glimmering awareness in the inherently ethnocentric but sensitive and comprehending European that non-white natives where in fact human. However, with the distance of more than a century since its writing, the very characterization here makes no apology for its disparaging tone. The use of words such as 'howled, 'horrid,' and 'ugly' suggests a baseness and animal-like tendency that almost excuses the European misimpression of inhumanness.
Here, we face one of the complicating factors in any assessment of Conrad's text, which is in understanding the time and place within which it was conceived. A post-colonial critique composed on the tail end of a sustained period of colonialism at once offers a remarkable insight into a time of momentous change and a first-hand perspective on the immediate fallout of this sustained period. But it also lacks the benefit of more than a century of observation and reflection on the consequences of European colonialism. As these realities have unfolded, so too has the discourse of Conrad's critique expanded and varied. As the text by Bloom (2008) points out, the novella was composed during "an era of intense interpersonal rivalry for colonial possessions. There was widespread interest in the political, moral and psychological challenged afforded to Europeans by African colonization. This tale dealt with atavism and decadence, at a time when these topics had been given currency." (p. 20)
Bloom indicates that at the time of Conrad's work, a greater intellectual dialogue had begun to open on the implications of European actions in contexts such as Africa. The context of the Belgian Congo would be perfectly emblematic of the effects of colonization, with the very name of the territory implying a European whitewashing of a long ingrained African identity. Bloom notes that a discussion had begun to emerge amongst academics as to the ethical and practical violations committed by the Europeans in their various colonies and, conversely, in defense of the 'civilizing' of savage native populations.
It is clear in one sense that Conrad's purpose of composing the text in question would be to cast a light on the consequences of European exploitation. And by the same token, Conrad cannot alter his own Western perspective and orientation. The value in Heart of Darkness is the fact that the author does not attempt to conceal this duality. Bloom explains the following of both Conrad's work and the postcolonial landscape within which it was composed
"Ideological contradiction gained rhetorical compression. Previously, Baudelaire had declared that nature provided 'forests of symbols, and, in an era where symbolism in prose and verse commanded fresh interest, Conrad was able to voice his paradoxes not only through explicit statement but also through ambiguous images and many-faceted symbols. The narrative of 'Heart of Darkness' offers, for example, the following paradox: 'Civilization can be barbaric. It is both a hypocritical veneer and a valuable achievement to be vigilantly guarded." (p. 21)
There is perhaps no internal contradiction which better underscores the debate surrounding interpretations of Conrad's seminal work. Indeed, Conrad could not help but marvel at least in part at the implications of 'progress' even as he observed with relative objectivity that this progress had come at a terrible cost to the lives of those exploited for its gains. What makes this such a problematic equanimity, however, is that it betrays the authors own inadvertent prejudices. His characterization of the sheer 'darkness' of the African continent -- with cosmetic racial implications aside -- conveys an image of African culture as having been stagnant, without history and steeped in the dark ages. In this way, Contrad almost appears to blame the African people themselves for the dire conditions characterizing the postcolonial landscape.
Dark Africa:
"In Conrad, the 'impenetrable darkness' has a metaphysical if 'inscrutable,' cause, and therefore, meaning. Conradian darkness, in part, prompts a ruminative Marlow to entertain a 'suspicion' of remote kinship with the Africans he cannot perceive, but, like other forms of colonial account keeping, it also relegates Africa and Africans to the metaphorically 'dark' eras and spaces of European thought. An often-quoted example from Marlow's narrative equates impenetrability not only with prehistory and emptiness but also with silence: 'Going up that river was like traveling back to the earliest beginnings of the world, when vegetation rioted on the earth and the big trees were kings. An empty stream, a great silence, an impenetrable forest.' (66)" (Achebe, p. 83)
Achebe argues that Conrad has, throughout his text and in a repetitive manner, reiterated the idea that Africa existed suspended from evolution, that its natives were themselves mere artifacts from the beginning of time. To Achebe, Conrad has conflated the African preservation of its tribal culture with isolation from progress. Such conflations are at the root of the European concept of colonization, wherein progress is forcibly introduced as a superior replacement for a long-ingrained culture. That is, by conveying a sense of support for the Western concept of progress, Conrad inherently accepts the myth of the African savage who must be rescued from his own unwillingness to grow. African history which stretches back for millennia is verily erased by a generation of European occupation, an advancement of civilization which the Conrad text may inadvertently endorse even as it reflects upon the horror of the postcolonial landscape. (Achebe 1977, p. 254)
Indeed, this is an allegation that gained its greatest ground with the writing of Nigerian scholar Chinua Achebe, whose 1958 work Things Fall Apart would greatly expand the nuance in the discussion on Conrad's seminal text. Thereafter, in 1975, Achebe would publish the landmark essay, "An Image of Africa: Racism in Conrad's 'Heart of Darkness,'" intensifying his claims regarding Conrad's slanted perspective. Specifically, Achebe (1977) challenged Conrad's portrayal, often perceived theretofore as sympathetic to the exploited natives. Instead, Achebe argues that the Polish-born author was inherently fascinated with European colonialism in a way that does not allow his work to reject it outright. Worse yet, there is the appearance at multiple points throughout Conrad's text of characterizations that reinforce the negative imagery of the savage, backward and even animalistic African. (p. 251)
Achebe argues in his later essay that the characterization of African postcolonial landscape as a white man's adventure to a place and time cast back in the history of civilization is inherently ethnocentric. Achebe (1977) argues that "Heart of Darkness projects the image of Africa as "the other world," the antithesis of Europe and therefore of civilization, a place where man's vaunted intelligence and refinement are finally mocked by triumphant beastiality." (Achebe, p. 251) Certainly, this is most compellingly achieved in the personage of Kurtz, whose imperialist rearing combines with the savagery of the world around him to produce nothing less than a monster. That the portrayal of said monster is horror mixed with no small degree of admiration, one can't help but note the racial implication that even in these savage jungles, the white man is more advantageously equipped to achieve power. Lowered, as it were, to the tribalist behaviors of his host nation, Kurtz embodies the triumph of the animalistic over the human. In a sense, Kurtz exceeds the natives in their own way of life by employing the structural tenets of colonialism, not the least of which is the concept of European racial superiority.
Achebe argues that the contrast between European and African racial identity is employed from the outset of Conrad's story. Further, Achebe indicates that the contrast is used to cast Africa, the African way of life and the African people as collectively bearing an 'otherness,' a strangeness and an unfavorable or undeveloped culture as compared to that of the Europeans and, perhaps, even compared to the postcolonial landscape of Africa itself. To that point, Achebe indicates the following:
"The book opens on the River Thames, tranquil, resting, peacefully "at the decline of day after ages of good service done to the race that peopled its banks." But the actual story will take place on the River Congo, the very antithesis of the Thames. The River Congo is quite decidedly not a River Emeritus. It has rendered no service and enjoys no old-age pension.' Is Conrad saying then that these two rivers are very different, one good, the other bad? Yes, but that is not the real point. It is not the differentness that worries Conrad but the lurking hint of kinship, of common ancestry. For the Thames too 'has been one of the dark places of the earth.' It conquered its darkness, of course, and is now in daylight and at peace. But if it were to visit its primordial relative, the Congo, it would run the terrible risk of hearing grotesque echoes of its own forgotten darkness, and falling victim to an avenging recrudescence of the mindless frenzy of the first beginnings." (Achebe, p. 1)
As Achebe shows here, the otherness of Africa is distinguished by its seeming commonality with a far more ancient European civilization. Such is to say that in this perspective, African culture is older, less altered by time and, to the Europeans, stagnant and stubbornly resistant to progress. By suggesting this of Africa, Conrad is guilty of magnifying the ideals of colonialism. In a sense, the work here tends to justify colonial occupation as the only path toward progress for a culture and context otherwise resistant to such as it is defined by the Europeans.
Certainly, for a text which is often interpreted as condemning the impact of imperialism the people who have been occupied, it takes numerous occasions to marvel at the postcolonial landscape which this force has rendered. In fact, Conrad seems unable to remove himself from some degree of glorification for the outcomes of colonial expansion. Conrad notes the following:
"Hunters for gold or pursuers of fame, they all had gone out on that stream, bearing the sword, and often the torch, messengers of the might within the land, bearers of a spark from the sacred fire. What greatness had not floated on the ebb of that river into the mystery of an unknown earth!...The dreams of men, the seed of commonwealths, the germs of empires." (Conrad, p. 2)
This description of those who had set forth from the River Thames to breach the parts of the world unseen by European eyes carries an unmistakable air of pride in the accomplishments wrought by the pursuit of wealth and power. Just as at different points in his text Conrad appears to portray the Africans encountered by Marlow and Kurtz are limbs and props to the interests of white men, here the description of the imperial adventurers makes no acknowledgement of those natives upon whom commonwealths must be seeded and empires germinated. The concept of an 'unknown earth' is distinctly European in that it perceives those lands uninhabited by white men and their civilized development as uninhabited in entirety. In other words, this idea of lands such as Africa as being virgin and not yet inhabited is tantamount to the identification of its native inhabitants as being no different from the animals in the jungles. Certainly, it would require exactly this kind of characterization to justify the abuse, enslavement and exporting of African men and women.
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