their way of life. But the Wakandans featured in the film seem to embody this Western mindset. Beyond their borders exists only “the other,” who is to be feared or on occasion assisted, but not valued. The foreigners we encounter in the movie are to be pitied (the Nigerian girls being kidnapped) or feared and mistrusted (Klaus, Killmonger, and even Agent Ross, to some extent). There is no sense in which foreigners should be valued for their shared humanity or what we can learn from “the stranger.”
My argument is not that traditional African ideas should have been the dominant thinking of Wakandan society. Rather, my point is that it is strange that such ideas do not even feature on the lips of the elders or some characters, and given the long history of isolation, have not been the norm for a long time. The fact that N’Jabu and Killmonger are radicalized outside of Wakanda precisely reinforces this point – those who do go beyond the borders are the ones who begin to view others as “our people.” The fact that Wakanda had not yet changed its position suggests that very few citizens ever meaningfully interacted with those beyond their borders, thus reinforcing their parochial perspective.
Ultimately, we see that T’Challa is convinced of the need to respond to the injustice of the world. Yet, despite what T’Challa says in his speech to the United Nations at the end of the film, his decision to “no longer watch from the shadows” appears to be motivated by the need to help, not by a sense of oneness with all of humanity, as understood through African philosophy.
Our People
I watched Black Panther in a theater in the Eastern Cape, South Africa, with a group of mostly isiXhosa-speaking students, who laughed and delighted in the passing comments in isiXhosa throughout the film. I led discussions and read essays on their responses to the film. It was a privileged experience, and a fantastic hook into a class on global justice and African philosophy.
Perhaps it is this context that amplified the dissonance between the film and African philosophy: on the one hand the voices of Wakanda spoke of “our way of life” and protecting our people: “I chose my people. I chose Wakanda.”; “people who are not our own”; “I am not King of all people. I am King of Wakanda.” On the other hand, the African philosophers we studied spoke frequently of “mutuality,” “reciprocity,” “relatedness” – of engaging with the other rather than fearing the other.
Wakanda is, of course, fictional. So, it does not need to be held accountable to empirical reality. Yet, Wakanda is clearly located in Africa and tries to represent a version of what Africa is, and could have been: a place that thrives in its own way. It is odd, then, that “the way” of the people of Wakanda appears to be largely shaped by a Western perspective rather than traditional African thought.
Much has happened with regard to the issue of global justice since Black Panther’s 2018 release – many around the world have joined in to support the American Black Lives Matter movement against systematic racism in US law enforcement and criminal justice systems, and the depth of global inequality and its dire consequences has been highlighted in a new and stark way through the COVID-19 pandemic. It will be interesting then to see how (or if) Black Panther’s sequel addresses these issues of injustice. Will the perspective remain Westernized? Or, will the filmmakers show a Wakanda that speaks more clearly to the histories of African philosophies and ways of life? And, what will be the effect of Wakanda’s global outreach? Will Wakanda still view the world as others who need help, or will Wakandans embrace the concept of ubuntu and truly view the world as one?27
Notes
1 1. Miranda Fricker, Epistemic Injustice: Power and the Ethics of Knowing (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2007).
2 2. Dennis Masaka, “‘Global Justice’ and the suppressed epistemologies of the indigenous people of Africa,” Philosophical Papers 46 (2017), 70.
3 3. Michael Onyebuchi Eze, “I am because you are: Cosmopolitanism in the age of xenophobia,” Philosophical Papers 46 (2017), 99.
4 4. Edwin Etieyibo, “Ubuntu, cosmopolitanism, and distribution of natural resources,” Philosophical Papers 46 (2017), 141.
5 5. Etieyibo, 154.
6 6. Mogobe B. Ramose, African Philosophy through Ubuntu (Harare: Mond Books, 1999), 52.
7 7. Eze, 99.
8 8. Eze, 100.
9 9. Bernard Matolino and Wenceslaus Kwindingwi, “The end of Ubuntu,” South African Journal of Philosophy 32 (2013), 197–205.
10 10. Etieyibo.
11 11. Matolino and Kwindingwi.
12 12. Eze, 98.
13 13. Eze, 101.
14 14. Eze, 100.
15 15. Eze, 100.
16 16. Eze, 101.
17 17. Eze, 101.
18 18. Eze, 100.
19 19. Eze, 100.
20 20. Ifeanyi A. Menkiti, “Africa and global justice,” Philosophical Papers 46 (2017), 23.
21 21. Menkiti, 23.
22 22. Menkiti, 23.
23 23. Menkiti, 24.
24 24. Menkiti, 24.
25 25. Menkiti, 28.
26 26. Menkiti, 28.
27 27. This chapter would not have been possible without the interesting conversations with my Philosophy Honours classes at the University of Fort Hare, Alice, South Africa 2018 & 2019. Thanks are also owed to Stephen Cooke, Vuyani Ndzishe, and Ryan Roos, who commented on earlier drafts of this chapter.
5 T’Challa’s Liberalism and Killmonger’s Pan-Africanism
Stephen C.W. Graves
“Wakanda Forever”