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Makhosazana Xaba is an award-winning anthologist and short story writer who has published four poetry collections and is a patron of the Johannesburg Review of Books. Izimpabanga Zomhlaba (The Wretched of the Earth) is her first translation project.

For issue #109 of The Internationalist, we speak to Xaba about her process of translating this seminal text, and the enduring significance of Frantz Fanon.

Tanya Singh: Could you elaborate on your approach to translating Frantz Fanon's The Wretched of the Earth, and discuss the significance of making this seminal  academic text accessible in isiZulu?

Makhosazana Xaba: There are seventeen translations of this book worldwide according to the editors of Translating Frantz Fanon Across Continents and Languages (2017). My approach to translating was first, learning about translating and understanding the context of translation in South Africa, as I hadn’t translated a written text before.

Second, I read as much as I could on the context of Fanon’s writing and how scholars have written about it. This required expansive reading, which was the most enjoyable part of this work. I also learned that Fanon dictated this book to Marie-Josephe Doublé (known as Josie), his wife, during his final year — but that’s a story for another essay. In certain instances, such as paragraphs and sentences, this “dictation flavour” surfaced and demanded repeated and deep reading.  

Third, capturing the ideas that Fanon offered became very challenging because this was no longer just about finding the right words, it was more about presenting Fanon’s layered arguments accurately. 

Fourth, there were instances when it was so hard to understand the text that I  had to compare the 2004  English  translation by Richard Philcox  —  what I was  commissioned to translate  — to the one done by Constance Farrington in 1963 to achieve clarity.

Finally, my sister Nomvula — who understands nuance, clarity, and meaning-making — became my brainstorming partner when I needed to test my translation. We spent a lot of time on the phone whenever I needed her language and wisdom.

On the book’s significance, first and foremost,  isiZulu speakers are the largest group reading newspapers and the Bible since the first half of the 19th century. Moreover, because the challenges and failures of the African National Congress (ANC)-led democratic period have been numerous: complex and entangled; disappointing and perplexing, Fanon, by using examples from the Algerian Revolution (1954–1962)  as well as other countries under French colonisation like Indochina and Vietnam and the Caribbean countries, illustrated the complexity of the revolution, its challenges, and its failures during and after the revolution. It is unsurprising, then, that The Wretched of the Earth has been a helpful text as countries go through challenging political times.

According to Kathryn Bachelor and Sue-Anne Harding, editors of Translating Fanon  Across Continents and Languages (2017), The Wretched  of the Earth has been translated  into seventeen languages viz: Arabic, Danish, English, German, Italian, Japanese, Norwegian, Persian, Polish, Portuguese, Russian, Serbo-Croatian, Slovene, Spanish, Swahili, Swedish and Tamil. The eight chapters of Bachelor and Harding's book discuss the political contexts of the various country’s translations. Therefore, it is not surprising that some commentators have called it “the Bible for liberation.”

TS: I am thinking of our current times, with the world grappling with so much precarity. How important is Fanon today?

MX: Our current times are an opportunity for major changes. For instance, in South Africa, 2024 election results were evidence of the fact that the people wanted change: Thirty years on, the ANC is no longer in the majority. In South Africa, we arrived at this critical point while we were still dealing with the  numerous legacies of apartheid. These legacies have lived on because of the solid  foundations that were laid down by the 1910 Union of South Africa and the 1948  Apartheid government. The racist laws and accompanying policies were applicable to all aspects of people’s lives guaranteeing dehumanising exclusion, marginalisation and oppression.

South Africa’s current state is captured by the persistently high Gini coefficient and the rising levels of unemployment visible in the ever-sprawling informal settlements, among others. While the Bill of Rights guarantees freedom, dignity and equality, men’s violence against women is an ever-present threat,  especially during times of conflict, as discussed in the  2020  the National Strategic Plan on Gender-Based Violence and Femicide: Human Dignity and Healing, Safety, Freedom & Equality in our Lifetime.  I wouldn’t be surprised to hear that the activists in Palestine are reading and sharing copies of the Arabic translation of  The  Wretched of the Earth. As we know, sexual violence and rape of women often goes hand in hand with war and conflict, so my concern and thoughts are with Palestinian women. 

TS: Did you find any parallels between Fanon's observations in the book, with your  own journey as an activist in apartheid South Africa? The lines from your poem  "The Alkalinity of Bottled Water" features lines like “As the ire of students rises throughout the country, as universities burn” and “resurface and realize the dreams of the democracy we want” are indicative of the themes Fanon grapples with as well.

MX: Yes, I found many. The most obvious parallel is the armed struggle that Fanon discusses in the first chapter “On Violence”. Fanon writes about the violence of the oppressing settler colonists and explains how it makes sense for the oppressed to respond with violence. He uses examples of how the National Liberation Front of Algeria was fighting the violent French settler colonists.

I decided I would join the armed struggle following the violence we experienced on  campus at the University of Zululand (also known as Ongoye University) on 29 October 1983  when the armed men of Inkatha invaded our campus and four students died. 

Until that day I had been a youth and student activist and had enjoyed the political  discussions we held frequently. Just two months earlier, the United Democratic Front  had been founded on 20th  August, in response to the  apartheid government’s attempt to  introduce the Tricameral Parliament in 1982, what they called “power sharing” among  the “Whites, Coloureds and Indians.” 

The formation of the UDF took my activism to a higher level, as we began to engage with adults in their various organisational formations. The violent invasion of a university  by an army of black men was the last straw that broke the back of my peaceful activism. 

It was common knowledge that the apartheid police were violent but until then I  had not been part of a protest where I experienced this. My  logic was commonsensical: if Black men of a Bantustan Government are prepared to  invade and use violence against young Black students who are protesting  —  what I call  the  ‘Zulufication’  of a university — I needed to learn to protect myself and fight  back. This is the point Fanon makes, and I paraphrase here: when the oppressors use  violence it makes sense for the oppressed to respond with violence.  

We also know of the Sharpeville Massacre of 1960, which resulted in the deaths of  250 Black people in one of the first and most violent demonstrations against apartheid in South Africa,  precipitated the founding of the armed wing of the ANC, uMkhonto  weSizwe (MK)  on 16th December of 1961. Fanon’s argument on the necessity of violence is that violence is in fact “… a situated act, specific to colonisation and decolonisation.”  

In August 1990 the ANC agreed to disband MK while talking about talks, the results of  which are now known as “The Pretoria Minute”.  A year later, on 20  August 1991, the UDF disbanded.

TS: If you were to recommend any texts to our readers to help them make sense of  our increasingly volatile world, what would they be? 

MX: This question is far too broad. I don’t know what to recommend that is specific because the increasing volatility is understood and experienced differently by each one of us,  while reading is highly personal and making sense of any situation can be interpreted in  various ways.

What do I mean? Someone who is confused by the increasing volatility would most  probably need text that is analytical and clarifies the situation. Someone who is saddened  by this might need a motivational book, whereas someone who is inspired to act as a way of making sense of the situation would most probably benefit from texts that offer ways and options of responding. A lover of life stories might need a biography of someone who  faced increasingly volatile times because a “living example” would make things make  sense. Some people may need to read what reveals them to themselves. Some people may  need to read poetry while others may need the Bible.

I am dealing with the increasing volatility by reading about how best I can write what I  am writing because that makes me feel in control, gives me hope, and offers meaning to my contribution to the world.

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