Erik Killmonger and the Contemporary African-American
Welcome to Wakanda, the country envisioned in Marvel’s Black Panther Comics, and brought to life by Ryan Coogler in a wonderful celebration of African culture and strong black identity. In the recently launched film, Wakanda is a place that challenges the conventional representations of the African continent in the mainstream media, and cultivates black pride among Africans and their descendants. In Wakanda, the women wear their hair naturally and are fierce warriors that lead the country into battle. The skyline is both traditionally African, and wildly futuristic — all while setting the backdrop for the most beautiful sunsets in the world.
Wakandans are inherently free and have never experienced institutionalized racism. They live in the richest country in the world, partially because of its natural resource of Vibranium, but also because it wasn’t colonized and robbed like the rest of the continent. Governmental systems are still rooted in tradition and respect, and they are free of corruption. Their secret development has given them the freedom to create a thriving economy and livelihood through technology, but has prevented them from using their resources for international aid. In a region that carries 90 percent of the global malaria burden, Wakanda does not share its advanced medicine that can rapidly heal bullet wounds and cure cancer. Surrounded by countries that have been historically torn by high levels of displacement due to internal conflicts and poor economies, Wakanda takes no refugees. Priding themselves on not accepting foreign aid, Wakandans also do not distribute any — living in a silo, separate from the rest of the world.
The film immediately contrasts the beautiful Wakanda to the streets of Oakland, a historically African American community with a long history of racial conflict and civil rights activists. The birthplace of the Black Panther Party (BPP) in 1966, Oakland has long been associated with the fight for black liberation. The BPP fought against racial inequalities and systemic oppression by emphasizing the basic human rights of self-defense. The leader of the BPP, Bobby Seale, simply claimed, “We want power to determine our own destiny in our own black communities.” An institutional system free from oppression and racism was only a dream to the Oakland civil rights leaders of the 60s, but it has been a reality for Wakanda since its inception. The narrative of black liberation continues in Oakland today. The city is quickly gentrifying and causing strife between an African American population burdened with crime and drugs, and a white millennial generation that has come in to colonize it. Oakland has emerged as a center of the Black Lives Matter movement, both with high participation in protests, and active community members who have led the charge for racial equality on the West Coast.
These two contrasting places have raised two conflicting heroes. T’Challa, the heir and king of Wakanda, grew up in a Black Excellence Utopia; he is the richest superhero in the Marvel Universe and was born into a royal family. His upbringing was surrounded by privilege giving him the ability to lead and act with love. Alternatively, Erik Killmonger, who was abandoned in Oakland by T’Challa’s father, grew up surrounded by the racism and inequalities of America, which fed a deep hatred and vengeance. He was educated in systems that were not designed for him. Undoubtedly, his school history lessons were taught from the colonial perspective and only associated Africa with slavery. The only knowledge he has gathered from his homeland are stories from his family.
Educated at MIT, a college for the elite (with an African American population just above 3%), Erik Killmonger was constantly reminded of the systemic inequalities that surrounded him. He possessed a secret knowledge of the wealth and technology of Wakanda, but was not able to access it, which fostered rage and the same justified political anger that has propelled civil rights activists throughout history. Erik Killmonger epitomizes an embodiment of African American rage described by James Baldwin as,“To be a negro in this country and to be relatively conscious is to be in a state of rage almost all the time” In addition to his justified black rage, Killmonger struggles with his identity as an African living in America. His pain is caused by the abandonment of his people and a generational trauma that touches on the rawest parts of being African-American. He clearly does belong in Oakland, but he is also not welcomed by his African motherland, Wakanda.
Like Killmonger, I find myself in a limbo between multiple cultures; I am struggling with what my own identity means and where I should call home.
Although I grew up in a country of similar wealth and technology as Wakanda, my lived experiences have contributed to a stronger personal identification with Killmonger than with T’Challa. I, too, was educated about my cultural heritage through the lens of a white man. I knew Africa only through the stories I had heard, and the black history lessons that taught me about slavery in school. I am a clear outlier in my profession of architecture in which people of African descent make up only 2% of the licensed American community. Like Killmonger, I proudly wear my dreadlocks as a jab against the system, proving to the world that one can be educated and motivated, while still being proud to be of African descent. We are both the product of an African and a Muzungu (the name for “white people” here in Rwanda), and we are struggling with what it means to be African-American and return to the motherland in the search of a home. In the United States, I am a young African American male with dreadlocks. I am stereotyped, profiled, and marginalized. But here in Rwanda, I am an American Muzungu. I am asked for money on the streets, I am associated with higher education, I am privileged. I can wear my hair naturally without the fear of social pressures, and I can afford to hike volcanoes and go on Safari game drives. Like Killmonger, I find myself in a limbo between multiple cultures; I am struggling with what my own identity means and where I should call home.
Killmonger enters the African continent with lofty but socially conscious goals. An article written by Peniel Joseph synthesizes them best, stating that Killmonger “has a burning desire to eradicate the system of mass incarceration in the United States, end neocolonial policies that impoverish much of the world, and ignite a political revolution that will alter power relations between the global north and south.” Killmonger mirrors some of my motivations for moving to Rwanda, but differs in the amount of vengeance and hatred in his heart. I started my work as a Global Health Corps fellow at MASS Design Group because the organization aligned with my passion for using an architectural skill set in the fight for the dignity, justice, and health equity of those who are traditionally overlooked. I know that architecture can be both violent and dignifying, and I was hoping to achieve the latter through my work at MASS.
Killmonger was seeking a similar outcome rooted in social justice, but he achieved it through violence. In the end, his actions provided a blatant wake up call for T’Challa to give aid to those in need. Killmonger’s goal is achieved when T’Challa is seen addressing the UN in the rolling credits with the intent of altering Wakanda’s foreign aid policy (assuming that in this universe, the UN is a diverse governing body with effective and equitable outlet to deliver aid across the world, and will not fail developing countries in the midsts of genocide and obvious political strife). The question that remains is would Killmonger’s mission have been as successful if he had just come in good faith and democratically tried to plea for resources. Rather, his approach aligns more with the Black Panthers’ use of intimidation and firearms on the local police, while T’Challa’s non-violent attitude resembles that of Dr. King. While both heroes want what’s best for their people, Killmonger’s death confirms that T’Challa’s non-violent approach is more effective, but that he would not have been prompted to action without Killmonger’s passion and aggression.
As the epitome of generational trauma and black rage, Killmonger’s death also begs the question of whether African Americans can ever return to the continent. In his final breath, he requests, “Bury me in the ocean with my ancestors that jumped from the ships because they knew death was better than bondage.” His lack of a burial site emphasizes the fact that he does not have a home or a resting place, but rather identifies with the injustices of his cause. My own return to the motherland, although generations later, evokes the same types of feelings brought to light by Killmonger. My experience in Rwanda has enabled me to strengthen my African identity, while simultaneously coming to terms with my American privilege.
“I must listen to and prioritize the perspectives of those from this place; I must volunteer within my community and share similar experiences to those I am trying to serve; I must work to learn Kinyarwanda, enabling me to listen and lift up the voices of others up. The mission of the organization and my projects must completely align with the goals of the country, and I must advocate for solutions are inherently and absolutely African.”
While working for an international nonprofit, I have been extremely conscious of my actions in the work that I do. I cannot be as aggressive or violent as Killmonger; however, I want to provoke positive actions that shift the status quo when necessary. I believe that there is a way I can be both humble and motivated by a passion that can instigate positive change. Over the past seven months as a GHC fellow, I have identified a few small ways that I can be intentional in my international non-violent actions that separate me from Killmonger. I must listen to and prioritize the perspectives of those from this place; I must volunteer within my community and share similar experiences to those I am trying to serve; I must work to learn Kinyarwanda, enabling me to listen and lift up the voices of others up. The mission of the organization and my projects must completely align with the goals of the country, and I must advocate for solutions that are inherently and absolutely African.
Josh Greene is a 2017–2018 Global Health Corps fellow at MASS Design Group in Rwanda.
