Zeyad El Nabolsy

This chapter aims to revisit some of the key questions which were debated at the University of Dar es Salaam during the 1970s and 1980ss. The University of Dar es Salaam was a hotbed of progressive politics during the period in question. Radial political economy was frequently taught and discussed by the students and professors at the university. The ruling party, the Tanganyika African National Union (TANU), under the leadership of Julius Nyerere, was embarked on a project of building socialism, but this was not a Marxist project, rather it was informed by the theory of ‘African Socialism’ which was adhered to by Nyerere. Proponents of African Socialism claimed that because African societies were and are classless societies, a theory of social transformation which was centred on class struggle was inapplicable to such societies. There were other proponents of African Socialism, but it was only in Tanzania that this theory was applied as a theory of socialist development. The proponents of African Socialism in Tanzania held that the situation there was exceptional compared to developments across the African continent in so far as communal forms had survived into the end of the colonial period. On this basis, the claim was made that such communal forms could provide an alternative basis for building a socialist society without the need for going through a stage of independent capitalist development. This view might have appeared especially plausible when its proponents contrasted the case of Tanzania with the case of neighbouring Kenya, where a fairly strong class of rich peasants able to hire the labour of others emerged during the colonial period.

The absence of Islam from recent scholarship on Hegel's account of world religions is puzzling. In the first part of the article, we argue that Hegel's neglect of Islam in his systematic account of religious phenomena is not accidental and that he did not think of Islam as a determinate religion. Its size and believers aside, we suggest that it is not possible to assign any determinacy to Islam as a world-historical phenomenon under Hegel's rubric, because such determinacy that applies to other religions would be in conflict with what Hegel takes to be Islam's emphasis on the negative moment of truth, its revolutionary tendencies, and its lack of any novel conceptual content as a response to Christianity. In the second part of the article, we point out how one could respond to Hegel's characterization of Islam when it is mentioned in relation to other religious traditions. First, we argue that Hegel overemphasizes the significance of Islam qua religion in explaining the history of Muslim peoples. More than that, Hegel does not see that the history of Islamic philosophy and science can be characterized by sublation and that it can be integrated into conceptual developments in the West on these terms. However, our critique of Hegel's Eurocentrism does not remain at this level, for in the third part of the article we argue for the significance of considering the response of Muslim philosophers to Hegel. In particular, we look at the responses by Mohammed al-Khosht and Mahmoud Haider, respectively. We conclude that Hegel's exclusion of Islam from any involvement in the history of the Concept indicates an undialectical commitment on his part and that to this extent being Hegelian today requires that we rectify this oversight.

Presby raises an important criticism of Oruka; she notes that in his critique of Tempels and Mbiti, he assumes, without providing adequate evidence, that myths and the traditions which transmit them are static and that, consequently, they lack the openness to criticism and transformation that characterizes genuine philosophical discourse. Presby responds that ‘those who study oral traditions or ritual practices will note that traditions are always changing, even when people think they are merely reproducing them’ (108). However, one can defend Oruka by pointing out that there is a vast difference between an intellectual tradition whose adherents are aware of the fact that it is constantly changing based on a dialectic characterized by arguments, objections to arguments, and responses to objections on the one hand, and on the other hand, an intellectual tradition that is changing but whose adherents at any given moment are unaware of the fact that this intellectual tradition is subjected to change. In the latter case, individuals are likely to think of criticism as a futile activity and perhaps as unnecessary given the fact that this tradition has proved to be functionally adequate for that society’s requirements, and they would be unaware of the fact that this tradition has maintained its functional adequacy precisely because it has changed as a function of time.

Cet article vise à comprendre comment les études africaines en Égypte ont été influencées par le préjugé d’une différence essentielle entre « l’Égypte » et l’Afrique du Nord, d’une part, et « l’Afrique subsaharienne » de l’autre. Il est communément admis que la plupart des Égyptiens ne se considèrent pas comme des Africains. Dans cet article, je cherche à explorer la manière dont les études africaines en Égypte ont été façonnées par cette conception populaire de soi, et comment cette dernière a été influencée par les discours académiques. J’y discute les origines coloniales et raciales des études africaines modernes en Égypte. J’y souligne également l’importance de l’existence d’un discours contre-hégémonique, incarné par la vie et l’œuvre d’Helmi Sharawy. Helmi Sharawy est aujourd’hui à la tête du Centre de recherche arabo-africain du Caire, et il a été politiquement actif pendant la période nassérienne en tant qu’agent de liaison entre le gouvernement de Nasser et les divers mouvements de libération africains qui ont établi des bureaux au Caire pendant cette période. Ce qui est particulièrement important dans la vie et la pensée de Sharawy, c’est que sa critique des études africaines égyptiennes a été élaborée en dehors de l’académie ; elle est le produit de son travail autodidacte combiné à son immersion dans les luttes politiques. Je soutiens que nous pouvons identifier dans le travail d’Helmi Sharawy une critique des paradigmes raciaux et coloniaux qui ont survécu dans les études africaines égyptiennes contemporaines, une critique que je relie aux débats sur le racisme dans la société égyptienne.

In a speech delivered to the First Solidarity Conference of the Peoples of Africa, Asia, and Latin America held in Havana in January 1966, Cabral posed the question: “does history begin only from the moment of the launching of the phenomenon of class, and consequently, of class struggle? Cabral raised this question because he is concerned with the fact that maintaining the thesis that the existence of classes is a necessary condition for the existence of dynamic social processes logically commits one to excluding several peoples from the historical process, provided that one accepts that at least some societies were classless until they came into contact with European imperialists. The latter is an assumption that is shared by Cabral and his interlocutors. Of course, in order to understand what Cabral is asking here we have to understand what is meant by the word ‘history’ in this context. I think that if one takes into account the Marxist polemical context that Cabral is wading into with this speech, and his attempt to develop a version of historical materialism that would be suitable for conditions in Guinea-Bissau and Cape Verde, one would be justified in thinking that Cabral is referring to a process of social development (or even progress). In other words, the question at hand is not whether peoples without classes have a past, they obviously do. The question is whether they have lived in societies that were dynamic, and where such dynamism could lead to qualitative transformations in social relations such that one could describe those societies as having specific developmental trajectories. Cabral wants to argue that they did in fact live in societies that were dynamic, even if such societies did not contain classes.

This paper seeks to understand how conceptions of essential differences between “Egypt” and North Africa more broadly on the one hand, and “Sub-Saharan Africa” on the other hand have informed African studies in Egypt. It is commonly claimed that most Egyptians do not think of themselves as Africans; in this paper I aim to explore how this popular self-understanding has both informed African studies in Egypt and has been affected by academic discourses. I discuss the colonial and racial origins of modern African studies in Egypt. I also emphasize the significance of the existence of a counter-hegemonic discourse which is exemplified in the life and work of Helmi Sharawy. Helmi Sharawy is today the head of the Arab African Research Center in Cairo, and he was politically active during the Nasserist period as a liaison between Nasser’s government and the various African liberation movements which established offices in Cairo during that period. What is especially significant about Sharawy’s life and thought is that his critique of Egyptian African studies was developed outside of the academy; it was the product of his autodidactic impulses combined with his immersion in political struggles. I argue that we can identify in the work of Helmi Sharawy, a critique of surviving racial and colonial paradigms in Egyptian African studies. I relate this critique to discussions of racism in Egyptian society.

Hountondji contends that without investment in the creation of autonomous African research institutions that are integrated with the national economies of African states, Africa’s scientific and technological dependency will persist. To be sure, Hountondji did not neglect what he termed “endogenous knowledge,” yet for him such knowledge had to be integrated with the research programs of contemporary scientific disciplines and critically assessed on this basis. Endogenous knowledge can have a role to play in ending Africa’s scientific and technological dependence, but only if it is liberated from the petrification that it is subjected to when it is described purely in ethnographic terms, and only when its truth claims are assessed in a serious way using the means of hypothesis testing that having been developed in the relevant contemporary scientific disciplines. To the extent that Hountondji thinks of modern science as the paradigm of successful inquiry, he is a modernist. His work on scientific dependency is especially relevant in this current moment given the fact that the COVID-19 pandemic made it clear that Africa’s dependence on imported vaccines is not sustainable in the long run. The fact that the African continent as a whole imports 99% of the vaccines that are delivered to its inhabitants shows that thinking about scientific dependency in a serious way is imperative today.

Compared to the COP26 summit in Glasgow last year, the COP27 summit in Sharm el-Sheikh has been distinguished by greater inclusion of voices from the Global South, as evidenced by the acceptance of a proposal to create a ‘loss and damage’ fund for developing countries that are suffering from climate disasters. However, it remains to be seen how the mechanisms for the implementation of this fund will be worked out. Western developed countries were vocal in their opposition to the fund throughout the summit, and it was only due to relentless pressures by developing countries that they eventually relented. If past events are anything to go by, then it is highly unlikely that the most vulnerable countries will get to have a substantial say in how the climate fund is operated. In fact, the Western developed countries are already trying to use this as an opportunity to drive a wedge between developing countries and China, whose lending and investment policy presents a favourable alternative to ‘strings-attached’ IMF funding. This is precisely one of the hallmarks of ‘climate colonialism’: a concept that refers to the deployment of justifications ostensibly related to the need to bring the causes of anthropogenic climate change under control, but which in fact serve to legitimize the domination of weaker, poorer states in the periphery of the world-system by stronger wealthier states in the core. What this means is that those who are most responsible for the impending catastrophe will get to dictate the terms of the response (even if ineffective) in a manner that would ensure they can externalize the costs to those who are least culpable. It is well known that poorer countries in warmer climates will be the most severely affected as the plant continues to warm.

One of the key factors that contributes to global political, social, and economic inequality is the lack of adequate scientific and technological resources in the Global South. A desideratum for a coherent program for a New International Economic Order is to end the Global South’s scientific and technological dependency on the Global North. The end of the unipolar era brings with it opportunities for many countries in the Global South to improve their bargaining position in a manner that would enable them to take substantial steps towards ending scientific and technological dependency.

There has been a recent increase in interest in the place of race in the writings of modern canonical European philosophers (e.g., in Locke, Hume, Kant, and Hegel). However, while it is undoubtedly necessary to undertake such investigations, we should also not stop there, insofar as stopping there does not, in fact, overturn the charge of Eurocentrism or parochialism which has often been leveled against academic philosophy. Because the circle of interlocutors is not being expanded in such an approach, it results in merely asking different questions about the same people (primarily male white European thinkers). Hence the importance of taking into consideration and critically evaluating the response of African philosophers and scientists such as James Africanus Beale Horton (1835 – 1883).

Hirji’s book, somewhat overlooked since its release, offers a compelling analysis of the history and sociology of the sciences in Tanzania, with a focus on Hirji’s own field of statistics, from the post-independence period through to the 2010s. The first chapter provides an overview of Hirji’s career as a teacher. The second presents an account of Hirji’s experiences as a teacher under training, especially in light of the Arusha Declaration of 1967 and the turn towards building socialism in Tanzania, and the philosophy of education for self-reliance that Nyerere attempted to institutionalize. The next four chapters provide a detailed account of Hirji’s years as a teacher at the University of Dar Es Salaam (UDSM) from 1971 until his dismissal and internal-exile in 1974.

If a short, shallow, and much less erudite version of the Description de l’Égypte were to be re-written today by a US State Department staff member it would read very much like the book which is under review here. Springborg is supposedly an “expert on Egyptian affairs”, however it seems that a basic understanding of modern Egyptian history in its global context is not a necessary condition for being considered an “expert on Egyptian affairs”. This book is thus valuable not for any first-order knowledge that it contains regarding Egypt’s post-1952 history, but rather as a case study for understanding how “expertise” regarding the MENA region is constructed, and how “experts” can serve to obscure the past and present of imperialism in the region.

Sandra Halperin's book is a Janus-faced creature. On the one hand, Halperin attempts to retrieve dependency theory, an approach to socio-economic analysis that many have relegated to the dustbin of history. On the other, Halperin attempts to retrieve dependency theory by universalizing it. In doing so, however, she attempts to sever dependency theory from its historical association with the national liberation struggles of the Global South. That Halperin's book takes dependency theory so seriously may perhaps explain why it has been ignored, for it has not been reviewed in any English academic journal as far as I can tell. Yet for those of us who do not believe that dependency theory is dead, this book raises important questions: what are the costs that one incurs when one attempts to retrieve dependency theory by disconnecting it from the Global South struggles to which it has been tethered? This question animates this review. While I argue that Halperin's attempt to revive dependency theory by universalizing it ultimately leads to an erasure of imperialism, the value of this book is precisely that it brings such issues to the forefront. Thus, what is at stake in this book is the relevance of theories of imperialism for the study of the Global South.

This article brings to the forefront Timothy Brennan’s emphasis on Edward Said’s engagement with philosophy. An attempt is made to reconstruct some of Brennan’s claims about Said’s views on the relationship between mental representations and the external world. It is shown that Said rejected naïve or direct realism in favor of representationalism. It is also argued that, despite being seen as a post-modern thinker, Said subscribed to a version of the correspondence theory of truth. Said embraced some form of standpoint epistemology, but he did not think that this had any direct bearing on how we should think about what makes a given claim true. Finally, an attempt is made to understand the relationship between Said’s project and the classical Marxist project of ideology critique, as well as contemporary attempts to develop an epistemology of ignorance.

With the contemporary global resurgence of interest in Marxism, including its Marxist‑Leninist form(s), as a theoretical framework that can orient contemporary struggles against capitalism and its attendant depredations, it has become even more urgent to address some of the key criticisms that were leveled at Marx, Engels, and Lenin when they came to be treated as “dead dogs” toward the end of the twentieth century. One key criticism was the charge that alleged that Marxism, including its Marxist‑Leninist form(s), was and is irredeemably Eurocentric in character. While there have been attempts to counter such charges by excavating and reframing Marx’s writings on the “non‑Western world,” this essay proposes to take another approach toward the charge of Eurocentrism in relation to Marxism (and Marxism‑Leninism in particular). This essay proposes to contribute to responses to the charge of Eurocentrism, by taking seriously the theoretical contributions of two African Marxists to the development of Marxism‑Leninism. This essay shows the specific ways in which two prominent East African Marxists, namely Abdul Rahman Mohamed Babu (1924–1996) and Dani Wadada Nabudere (1932–2011) were both deeply influenced by Lenin and made important contributions to Marxism‑Leninism.

Jeanne-Marie Jackson’s The African Novel of Ideas: Philosophy and Individualism in the Age of Global Writing provides an analytic framework for understanding the novel as a form of philosophical expression in African intellectual history. More specifically, she uses individualism as a tool for tracking the expression of abstract “philosophical thinking” in a selection of African novels. For Jackson, it is the fictional individual in the novel who is the primary bearer of philosophical thought. Jackson situates this interpretative heuristic vis-à-vis the debates about ethnophilosophy which dominated African philosophy in third quarter of the twentieth century. Like Paulin Hountondji, perhaps the most well-known critic of ethnophilosophy, Jackson emphasizes that philosophical practice, at a bare minimum, requires a second-order reflexivity toward conventional hegemonic beliefs in a given society, and this second order discourse takes the form of an argumentative stance toward those beliefs. Her general suggestion is that the best place to look for philosophical thought in the aforementioned sense is to examine individual thinkers, whether real or fictional.

Mourad Wahba’s Fundamentalism and Secularization was first published in Arabic in Egypt in 1995. By the 1990s, Islamist thought had become hegemonic in Egypt, and it is this cultural context that informs Wahba’s concern with philosophy of culture as applied to the question of fundamentalism and its antagonistic relationship to secularization. As Robert Beshara notes in his interview with Wahba, which serves as a foreword to this new translation, the book was ahead of its time insofar as it was published before the spate of publications on fundamentalism in the aftermath of the events of September 11th 2001, and it clearly predicted the coming clash of fundamentalisms which would go on to shape the first decade of the third millennium, namely, the clash between right-wing Christian fundamentalism in the U.S. on the one hand, and expressions of Islamic fundamentalism on the other. Wahba also rejects the framing of the conflict as a conflict of civilizations. For Wahba, there is in fact strictly speaking only one human civilization and many cultures (x). Wahba defines civilization as ‘a tiered singularity, the course of which goes from mythical thinking to rational thinking’ (32). It seems here that Wahba, in attempting to undermine the thesis of the clash of civilizations, ends up reintroducing an evolutionist account of a singular human civilization, akin to those endorsed by Victorian British anthropologists of the nineteenth century. The first chapter deals with fundamentalism both historically and conceptually. On the conceptual level, Wahba argues that we can understand fundamentalism as essentially driven by the human propensity for unity, which for Wahba is essentially a yearning for the Absolute (7). According to Wahba, this is how humans attempt to overcome their alienation from the world. However, the problem is that absolutes seem to multiply as a function of time, and we do not have context-independent criteria which would allow us to decide between competing claims for opposing absolutes. For Wahba, the solution is to simply give up on the search for absolutes and to endorse a kind of relativism. However, it is important to recognize that for Wahba relativism does not imply that ‘anything goes.’ Wahba thinks of relativism in negative terms, i.e. simply as the rejection of the thesis that knowledge claims can ever be of an absolute, context-independent nature. What is especially interesting is that Wahba presents himself as a proponent of the Enlightenment qua universal project. However, unlike many participants in the contemporary ‘culture wars’ of the U.S., he seems to think that commitment to the Enlightenment project with its attendant secularization entails a commitment to the rejection of absolutism in epistemology. The commitment to relativism as defined above is presented by him as a requirement of enlightened rationality and not as a product of its rejection.

To explain Paulin J. Hountondji’s intellectual trajectory, I offer a critical account of his conception of the relationship between science and philosophy. Mapping the shift from his well-known critical writings on ethnophilosophy to his later work on scientific dependency is possible only if we recognize that Hountondji conceives of philosophy as essentially a theory of science (Wissenschaftslehre). Adequately characterizing Hountondji’s metaphilosophical orientation, however, requires greater specificity. The two most influential philosophers on Hountondji’s conception of the relationship between science and philosophy, Edmund Husserl and Louis Althusser, would both have assented to the claim that philosophy is fundamentally a Wissenschaftslehre. However, they each adhered to different (and indeed contradictory) understandings of this claim. While Hountondji explicitly recognizes the dual influence of Husserl and Althusser on his conception of philosophy as a theory of science, he does not attempt to resolve the contradictions between Husserl’s understanding of the relationship between philosophy and science and Althusser’s conception of that relationship. By examining Hountondji’s relatively neglected later writings on scientific dependency, it becomes clear that his emphasis on the significance of the history and sociology of science points toward an Althusserian conception of philosophy qua theory of science rather than a Husserlian conception of what it is for philosophy to be a Wissenschaftslehre.

[Attached PDF is the Arabic translation, the hyperlink takes you to the original English version] In this paper I argue that the emphasis, which was placed by the PAIGC’s leadership, and specifically by Amílcar Cabral, on the importance of advancing women’s rights and women’s liberation should be understood as being a consequence of Cabral’s modernist philosophical orientation. Moreover, I argue that women played an essential part in the struggle for liberation from Portuguese colonialism. In the first section, I characterize Cabral’s modernist philosophical orientation and the way it influenced his views on the necessity of women’s liberation. I emphasize the philosophical commitment to autonomy as a guiding normative principle. In the second section, I argue that women played a key role in pressuring the PAIGC to integrate them into its structure, i.e., they were active agents and not just passive subjects waiting for somebody to “liberate them.” In the third and concluding section, I describe the limits of the PAIGC’s commitment to women’s liberation, and I discuss why some members of the party’s leadership (e.g., Luis Cabral) disagreed with Amílcar Cabral regarding the importance of women’s liberation. This paper thus approaches the question of feminist anti-colonial imaginaries both from the perspective of the hopes which attended a partially feminist-inflected African liberation struggle, as well the betrayal of these hopes by men in leadership positions. Those leaders never took seriously the idea that the liberation of women was a necessary condition for the creation of a social environment which would allow for the full actualization of the capacities of men and women in Guinea-Bissau and Cape Verde.

This essay aims to provide an account of the differences between what I call the “Classical Marxist” conception of science which was adhered to by Marx and Engels and further developed by Boris Hessen and others on the one hand, and the conception of science which characterizes “Western Marxism” as it developed through the work of the theorists of the Frankfurt School on the other hand. I argue that Western Marxists such as Herbert Marcuse and Max Horkheimer did not in fact successfully criticize the logical positivist account of the modern natural sciences. Instead I argue that they implicitly accepted the positivists’ characterization of the modern natural sciences (as they interpreted it) and then proceeded to devalue the modern natural sciences on this basis. I also show that Marcuse and Horkheimer, even though they presented themselves as revolting against the alleged “economism” of Classical Marxism, ended up endorsing a view of science which is functionally equivalent to a reductive economistic conception of science. I argue that the Classical Marxists’ conception of science is far richer and far more interesting than either a stereotyped “economistic” conception of science or the Western Marxist conception of modern science as merely an element in a historical process centered on the oppressive universalization of instrumental reasoning.

This essay has two aims. The first is to show that the editors of Lotus: Afro-Asian Writings and some of the writers who contributed to it (especially Ismail Ezzedine, Anar Rzayev, Tawfick Zeyad, Abdel Aziz El-Ahwani, Joseph Ki-Zerbo, Alex La Guma, Adonis, Salah Dehni, Luis Bernardo Honwana, Ghassan Kanafany, and Tozaburo Ono) attempted to reconceive of nationalism in a way that would make international solidarity constitutive of the new national projects. It is argued that this is quite different from thinking of the contributors to Lotus as abandoning nationalism in favor of a supranationalist project. The second aim is to show that at least some of the contributors to Lotus thought of themselves as being the vanguard of modernity, and not as the creators of “alternative modernities”. This essay shows that some of the aforementioned contributors to Lotus implicitly drew on standpoint epistemology in order to argue that, due to their struggles against colonialism, racial discrimination, etc., they had a privileged epistemic vantage point from which to criticize modernity in its European form for not being modern enough.

One of the central strengths of Salem's analysis of Nasserism is that she recognizes both its world-historical significance as a progressive nationalist movement, and its severe limitations. In the first section of this paper, I discuss Salem's notion of the "afterlives" of the Nasserist project by drawing attention to one of the most debilitating legacies of that project, namely the transformation of Egyptian politics into petty bourgeois politics. In the second section, I argue that while Salem does not explicitly draw on Hegel's understanding of tragedy in her account of Nasserism, her analysis of Nasserism essentially amounts to depicting it as a Hegelian tragedy. By placing Salem's book in conversation with Hegel (and his philosophy of action), we can make explicit what I take to be one of the central claims made by Salem, namely that when passing judgment on past and present national liberation movements we should remember that innocence is "only non-action, like the mere being of a stone" [nur das Nichttun wie das Sein eines Steines] (Hegel 1986, 346). In the third section of this paper, I raise some critical points about Salem's characterization of the nationalism that was associated with the Nasserist project, as well as about the deployment of the concept of modernity in her analysis. I argue that her account of modernity in the book does not distinguish between the concept of modernity as it refers to a certain kind of normative philosophical discourse, and modernization theory qua theory of development. Finally, I draw on Salem's use of the concept of hegemony in order to pose a question regarding the political significance of the contemporary cultural hegemony of Islamist movements in Egypt.

This paper argues that the relative stability of ancient Egyptian society during the Middle Kingdom (c.2055 – 1650 BC) can in part be explained by referring to the phenomenon of hermeneutical injustice, i.e., the manner in which imbalances in socio‐economic power are causally correlated with imbalances in the conceptual scheme through which people attempt to interpret their social reality and assert their interests in light of their interpretations. The court literature of the Middle Kingdom is analyzed using the concepts of hermeneutical injustice and ideology. It is argued that while it is true that there was room for maneuver and for internal critique, the efficacy of internal critique was hindered by the structure of the intellectual discourse of Middle Kingdom Egypt. This intellectual discourse was suitable for the interpretation of social reality in a way that allowed the elites to assert their interests, but it was not suitable for the interpretation of social reality in a way that accorded with the interests of the exploited peasantry.

I argue that the reception of Hegel in the sub-field of history and philosophy of science has been in part impeded by a misunderstanding of his mature metaphilosophical views. I take Alan Richardson’s influential account of the rise of scientific philosophy as an illustration of such misunderstanding, I argue that the mature Hegel’s metaphilosophical views place him much closer to the philosophers who are commonly taken as paradigms of scientific philosophy than it is commonly thought. Hegel is commonly presented as someone who conceived of philosophy as a science that relied on the solitary genius of the individual thinker, and as a science whose propositions could not and should not be made accessible to “the common people”. Against this view, I argue that Hegel in fact thought that philosophy was a thoroughly anti-individualistic activity, and that he emphasized the importance of the intersubjective accessibility of philosophical discourse. I argue that when we carefully reconstruct Hegel’s reasons for his break with Schelling, and if we pay close attention to his explicit metaphilosophical pronouncements, we can see that he in fact adhered to what I call a “proto-modernist” conception of philosophy as a science. I conclude by pointing out how the mischaracterization of Hegel has served to obscure the existence of a strand of scientific philosophy that emerged by way of an immanent critique of Hegel, namely Marxist philosophy.

In this chapter I focus on listening as a potentially revolutionary pedagogical activity. I argue that listening should not be understood as an essentially passive state, and focus on pedagogical situations where the educator can be misled by prejudices regarding the abilities, or lack thereof, of the individuals that the educator is interacting with in a pedagogical context. While the claims which I argue for apply to pedagogues in formal classrooms, I will be mostly concerned with pedagogy in the context of political and social movements. In the first section, I argue that there is a direct relationship between the manner in which dominant social groups , especially ruling classes in societies stratified along class lines, accumulate social power in a given society and the manner in which the conceptual tools that are available for the interpretation of social reality make it difficult for members of oppressed social groups to interpret social reality in a way that accords with their interests, either because the adequate conceptual tools are not part of the conceptual repertoire of their society, or because they do not have access to them due to their material conditions (grinding poverty, illiteracy, etc.). I argue that the revolutionary pedagogue must be aware of this structural problem. In the second section, I draw on the methods of participatory action research in an attempt to specify what the revolutionary pedagogue must be like as a listener in order to compensate for the existence of this deficiency in adequate conceptual tools for the analysis of social reality and the identification of objective social interests on the part of members of oppressed social groups. In other words, I specify the qualities that revolutionary pedagogues must possess as listeners in order to fulfill their task. In the third and concluding section, I argue that in order to compensate for the structural problem that I identify in the first section, pedagogues must be willing to identify with the members of the oppressed groups that they are attempting to teach (in a dialogical manner). They must be willing to commit what Amilcar Cabral called class suicide and its analogues in relation to other forms of oppression (Cabral 1979a, 126).

Franziska Dübgen and Stefan Skupien have written a much needed overview of Paulin Hountondji’s work. While Hountondji is quite well known for his critique of ethnophilosophy, his later intellectual work on scientific dependency and his political writings are not as well known to non-specialist Anglophone readers. This partially stems from the fact that while his later work on scientific dependency has been translated into English, it has been published in the form of short articles or through transcribed interviews, which makes it difficult for a reader to situate it in relation to Hountondji’s work on ethnophilosophy. Moreover, the Anglophone reception of Hountondji’s explicit political writings has been hindered by the fact that many of them have not been translated into English, e.g. his 1973 book Libertés: Contribution à la Révolution Dahoméenne, which was written as a prescription of what needs to be done by the military regime in order to end neo-colonial dependency in Benin in the aftermath of the military coup led by Mathieu Kérékou in 1972, has still not been translated into English. Dübgen and Skupien have written a book that will contribute to remedying this neglect by contextualizing Hountondji’s work on scientific dependency and his political writings in relation to his better known writings on ethnophilosophy.

The choice of tracking Hegel’s reception in the Arab world in order to explore the connections between modernity and colonialism is an excellent one, since it was Hegel himself who inaugurated the explicit philosophical discourse of modernity (Habermas 1990: 4-5). Ventura’s book is divided into three parts of roughly equal length of around fifty pages each. The first part provides an overview of Hegel’s philosophy of history, and of the place of Arab peoples and Islam in his philosophy of history. This section allows Ventura to put forward some of her own interpretations in relation to questions that are the objects of controversy in the secondary literature on Hegel. In general, Ventura’s account of Hegel’s views on Arabs and Islam draws attention to the internal differentiation which characterized ‘Orientalism’ as a discourse. The second part of the book deals with the indirect reception of Hegel in nineteenth century Ottoman Syria (which encompassed modern day Lebanon, Syria, Palestine and Jordan). Ventura’s salutary emphasis on internal differentiation is one of the strengths of this part of the book. She emphasizes the differences between the American Protestant missionaries who founded the Syrian Protestant College in 1866 and the French Jesuits who founded the Université Saint-Joseph in 1880. Ventura argues that the American Protestant missionaries were influenced by Hegel (58), whereas the French Jesuits were not (59). The third part of the book attempts to provide an account of the direct reception of Hegel in the Arab world which, according to Ventura, only begins in the 1960s and 1970s. Ventura’s account of the contemporary reception of Hegel is based on the research that she conducted in Syria and Lebanon in 2009-2010, which involved conducting interviews with prominent Syrian and Lebanese philosophers and examining libraries. While the title of the book might suggest that it aims to provide an account of the reception of Hegel in the Arab world as a whole, the focus is really on the reception of Hegel in modern day Syria and Lebanon, with Egypt being given rather cursory treatment.

In this paper I argue that Hegel thought that systematicity was both a necessary condition for a body of thought to be recognized as philosophy and a normative principle by which progress in the history of philosophy can be evaluated. I argue that Hegel’s idiosyncrasies in the interpretation of thinkers who he considers to be philosophers can be explained by referring to the structure of his own philosophical system. I also argue that Hegel’s conception of philosophy as being essentially systematic leads him to claim that traditions that do not have systematic philosophy do not have philosophy at all and this leads to their marginalization. Finally, I identify the role of Hegel’s assumptions in shaping the self-understanding of philosophers through the shaping of the philosophical canon.

This article argues that Amílcar Cabral adhered to some of the essential elements of the philosophical discourse of modernity. This commitment led Cabral to endorse an anti-essentialist, historicized conception of culture, and this in turn led him to conceive of cultural liberation in terms of cultural autonomy as opposed to the preservation of indigenous culture(s). Cabral’s attitude towards languages is employed as a case study in order to demonstrate how emphasis on Cabral’s commitment to the philosophical discourse of modernity can help explain why he could denounce ‘colonialist culture’, while also defending the PAIGC’s (Partido Africano para a Independência da Guiné e Cabo Verde / African Party for the Independence of Guinea and Cape Verde) use of Portuguese as an official language. This essay argues that Cabral makes a significant distinction between foreign influences and foreign domination in the realm of culture. Cabral conceived of the anti-colonial struggle in the realm of culture as a struggle against the latter rather than the former.