Am I My Brother’s Keeper?
Am I My Brother’s Keeper? Drawing Parallels between African Americans’ Civil Adversities and the Adversities of Their Ancestral Forefathers, the Igbos of Nigeria During the 60s.
The last Shabbat services ended the same as always. Our chief elder and general, the Honorable Rabbi Remy Illona, asked us a chilling question (yes, he does this every Shabbat). Unlike last Shabbat's question, this one was undoubtedly controversial, innovative, and flabbergasting, to say the least. He asked, "Why didn’t African Americans come to their brother's aid?"
This question was rhetorical. I don't think he wanted an answer; he wanted the minds of the diaspora to think. As usual, I did what? I began to answer a question I didn’t have the answer for. The moment I opened my mouth, I failed the rabbi's test. Again! I couldn’t stay quiet. The rabbi asked a question I thought I was dying to address.
I replied with as much credible information as my mind could drum up, in typical Aniefuna fashion, with passion and data. He let me answer, and then he calmly stated, "The Germans outright apologized as a nation for their part in the Holocaust. Do you think every German was a Nazi? I’d hope not. The German people of that time knew what was happening, did not openly admit their shortcomings, and apologized." He also stated, "We, the Igbos of Igboland, dropped the ball with our African American brothers. We did not ask the right questions, and African Americans dropped the ball with the Biafra war; they didn’t ask the right questions."
This statement alone rattled me. I exited the service. My emotions were undeniably disturbed. I rejoined my Umuuna with tears in my eyes to face my tribe. I needed to put my emotions to the side. Many Aniefunas have asked our elders why they didn’t look for us, so I’d be foolish to think that one day, the elders wouldn’t have rigorous questions of their own.
Remy stated, "We cannot change the past, but we must address these issues so our past doesn’t repeat itself."
I replied, "Rabbi, you are right. We didn’t help. We knew what was happening, and we did nothing." But it's not just about what we did or didn't do. It's about understanding the pain of our brothers and sisters and having the empathy to act in their defense.
I felt I needed to apologize. When he asked the original question, I could hear the pain in his voice. I listened to the same pain in the Honorable Rabbi Eronini’s voice when he spoke of our shortcomings. Nevertheless, it was the pain my elders have been walking with since the days of Biafra. The Aniefuna voice is one of anger, but the voice of our brethren is from pain. For I, myself, know what it is to walk with a lifetime of pain.
The Igbo and the Igbo American share the same pain. My brother’s pain was different from mine. Foreign peoples oppressed us; they were oppressed by men of the same land and color, something the Aniefuna could never understand. But in our shared pain and resilience, we find a bond that transcends time and distance.
So now, we are here. Let’s address the title: Am I my brother’s keeper?
Parallels from a Shared Heritage:
Intro
The 1960s were a tumultuous decade for people of African descent across the globe. In the United States, African Americans—the descendants of the great Igbo peoples—were entrenched in the Civil Rights Movement, battling systemic racism and propaganda while fighting for equality. Five thousand seven hundred sixty-three miles across the Atlantic in Nigeria, their ancestral parents, the Igbo people, faced existential threats during the Biafra War (1967–1970). While separated by geography, these struggles share profound, uncoincidental similarities rooted in a shared history of heritage, oppression, resilience, and the quest for justice. This article explores these parallels and examines why African Americans, Igbo, and those who undoubtedly have Igbo ancestry could not offer support to their brethren in Nigeria during this critical period.
Shared Heritage: From Igbos to African Americans
Historical records reveal that many African Americans trace their ancestry to the Igbo people of southeastern Nigeria, a region significantly impacted by the transatlantic slave trade. Enslaved Igbos were brought to southern states like Georgia, Alabama, Virginia, and South Carolina, where their cultural traditions influenced African American practices. The Igbo emphasis on community, spirituality, and resilience is echoed in African American culture today, from the “ring shout” to collective resistance strategies.
Despite these deep historical connections, the 1960s revealed a stark disconnect between African Americans and their ancestral homeland. While the Igbo people of Biafra fought for survival and self-determination, African Americans were embroiled in their own battle for civil rights.
Struggles for Autonomy and Recognition
The Nigerian Civil War and the African American Civil Rights Movement centered on the quest for autonomy and recognition. Let's review the timeline of the '60s for the Igbos as a whole, drawing from both sides:
Biafra’s Secession: After decades of political marginalization and ethnic violence, the Igbo people declared independence in 1967, forming the Republic of Biafra. This move followed the 1966 pogroms, where tens of thousands of Igbos were massacred in northern Nigeria. Biafra’s secession was a desperate attempt to protect their people and assert self-determination. Both movements were responses to systemic oppression, with the Igbos and African Americans asserting their rights against entrenched systems of inequality.
African Americans’ Fight for Rights: Simultaneously, African Americans were engaged in a struggle for civil rights, fighting segregation, disenfranchisement, and systemic racism. Landmark events such as the Selma marches (1965) and the passage of the Civil Rights Act of 1964 underscore their determination to achieve equality.
The Role of Media and Propaganda
Media played a critical role in both struggles, shaping global perceptions and rallying support.
Biafran Crisis: Biafra leveraged graphic images of famine to garner international sympathy. The humanitarian crisis, particularly the iconic images of starving children, pierced through Nigeria’s information blockade and prompted limited international aid. I can't help but wonder why the chiefs and elders of Biafra did not use these moments to galvanize all the Igbos of the Diaspora. Remy was right; "Igbos did not ask the right questions."
Civil Rights Movement: Similarly, televised broadcasts of peaceful protesters being attacked by police dogs and water hoses in Birmingham, Alabama, galvanized national and international outrage, pressuring U.S. lawmakers to act.
Someone, somewhere, did not want African Americans to understand what was happening back home. The Nigerian government framed Biafra as a rebellious region, emphasizing the necessity of national unity. Meanwhile, Biafra enlisted foreign sympathizers like Jean-Paul Sartre and journalists like Frederick Forsyth to expose the humanitarian crisis. Forsyth’s book The Biafra Story remains a seminal account.
As stated in Picturing a War No One Cares About, the Nigerian government restricted foreign journalists' access to Biafra and the frontlines, permitting only those aligned with federal narratives. This censorship ensured that international media portrayed the conflict from the Nigerian government's perspective. The Nigerian federal government implemented an information blockade to control the narrative surrounding the war and prevent international sympathy for Biafra. This strategy was part of a broader attempt to maintain Nigeria's territorial integrity and suppress the secessionist movement. Nigeria’s comprehensive economic blockade cut off communication channels and resources, further isolating Biafra and hindering its ability to share its perspective with the world.
Someone, somewhere, knew that if the descendants of the Igbo people knew who they were and what was happening back home, they couldn’t win a war started by Cold War interests with a taste for the genocide of the people of the book. They knew Igbo Americans would return home and take up arms. African Americans were known for violent resistance. If Igbo Americans joined the fight, Biafra would have the resources and manpower to take Nigeria completely.
The Nation of Islam’s Influence
During the 1960s, the Nation of Islam (NOI) played a pivotal role in shaping the focus of African Americans. Under the leadership of figures like Elijah Muhammad and Malcolm X, the NOI emphasized Black self-determination, economic independence, and pride in African heritage. The issue was that they were promoting the wrong heritage to the wrong people. At the time, groups like the NOI were pushing the “Islam is the original Black man’s religion” dogma, coupled with the Black Panther movement and the Zulu Nation. African Americans were spoon-fed Ghanaian and Yoruba culture, which helped keep their eyes off of Biafra. While the NOI’s emphasis on Black pride resonated with African Americans, its focus on domestic issues meant that international crises like the Nigerian Civil War received less attention in these circles.
Mr. Muhammad knew the truth about African Americans’ identity, and he undoubtedly was aware of the Biafran War. Elijah and Malcolm met with Ghanaian and Yoruba Muslims in 1959 and 1964. A notable visit was to the University of Ibadan, meeting with the Muslim Students Society, a Yoruba group. I'm of the opinion that both X and Muhammad knew the truth but were oppressed by the powers that be. We can never forget that the Brits are the big brothers of the U.S. government.
During this time, we saw a rise in Yoruba and Ghanaian culture being forced on African Americans, further distancing them from their ancestral heritage. Today, the popularity of these ethnic identities obscures the Igbo heritage of African Americans. I can't help but feel like someone was finishing the work that Askia Mohammed started. That "convert or suffer" mindset plagued the Igbo people and other Hebrews during the Songhai Empire days and is manifested in the framework of the NOI, converting thousands of unsuspecting Igbo Americans to the very culture their forefathers fought to remain sovereign from.
Domestic Focus:
The NOI’s teachings were primarily centered on addressing the systemic oppression faced by African Americans in the U.S. Through its rhetoric and programs, it encouraged Black communities to focus on their immediate struggles against racism and segregation.
Malcolm X’s speeches often highlighted the shared plight of African-descended peoples globally, but his assassination in 1965 curtailed efforts to build international solidarity.
Challenges to Solidarity
Despite their shared heritage, African Americans were largely unable to support the Igbos during the Nigerian Civil War due to several barriers:
Lack of Awareness: The erasure of ethnic identities during the transatlantic slave trade left most African Americans unaware of their Igbo ancestry. The Yoruba, Ghanaians, and groups like the Zulu and NOI further fueled African American ignorance by propagating false ancestral heritage. To this point, the honorable Remy Illona was right. African Americans did not ask the right questions.
Focus on Domestic Issues: African Americans were deeply entrenched in their own struggles, such as desegregation and combating police brutality.
Example: The assassination of Martin Luther King Jr. in 1968 and the subsequent rise of the Black Power movement demanded their attention and resources.
Limited Political Influence: African Americans, as a marginalized group, lacked the political and economic clout to influence U.S. foreign policy, which favored Nigeria’s federal government due to Cold War geopolitics and oil interests.
The Role of Media and Propaganda: Media played a critical role in both struggles, shaping global perceptions and rallying support. The war in Nigeria received limited coverage in the U.S., especially within African American communities focused on domestic civil rights struggles. Media depictions of the war often lacked cultural context or empathy, making it harder to forge a connection.
Parallels in Resilience and Legacy
Both struggles highlight extraordinary resilience and have left lasting legacies:
Cultural Identity: The Nigerian Civil War strengthened Igbo identity, just as the Civil Rights Movement fostered a sense of pride and self-determination among African Americans through the Black Power movement.
Global Influence: These movements inspired other liberation struggles, underscoring the universal fight for justice and equality.
Conclusion
The Igbos as a whole fought to be de-marginalized, whether you are an Igbo of the Diaspora or you lost a loved one in the Biafra war. Both sides share the same pain. I don't believe there is a right or wrong. Why? Because it is clear that both parties have one commonality: Both sides lost the ways of Omenana. This is the reason why African Americans couldn’t help with the Biafra war and why the Igbos of Nigeria did not come to look for the lost sheep. To the American Igbo, I say this: Yes, no one looked for you back then, but Omenana Defenders are here right now, ready for you to embrace your identity. To the Igbo of Nigeria, I say this: African Americans did not help in the Biafra war back then, but African Americans are prepared now to stand in solidarity with their tribe. I say to both sides—history has shown us that without authentic Biblical Israelite culture—your culture, Omenana—we cannot prosper as a people. We have an umbrella under which to unite under Omenana. The past will repeat itself if we don’t return to our ancestral culture. Both sides need to rise to the occasion created by Chiukwu and unite under the authority of Omenana.
