Hollywood and world cinema influences: tracing intertextuality in the works of two contemporary filmmakers from Francophone Africa; Mahamat Saleh Haroun and Abderrahmane Sissako

Don’t tell me the moon is shining; show me the glint of light on broken glass Anton Chekhov Representations of Africa in cinema are almost as old as cinema itself and date back to Hollywood’s silent era. Most early examples feature the continent as a mere exotic backdrop and include The Sheik (Melford 1921), soon followed, in 1926, by George Fitzmaurice’s Son of the Sheik starring Rudolph Valentino. The next decade brought Van Dyke’s Tarzan movies, Robert Stevenson’s King Solomon’s Mines (1937), and, on the European side, Duvivier’s Pépé le Moko (1936). For representations of Francophone Africa by Africans themselves, the viewing public more or less had to wait, however, until decolonisation in the 1960s (with, for example, Sembene Ousmane’s Borom Sarret and La Noire de…, both released in 1966 and, in 1968, Mandabi). Since then Francophone African cinema has come a long way and has diversified into various strands. Between Borom Sarret and Mahamat-Saleh Haroun’s 2006 Daratt, Saison sèche - or the same director’s Un homme qui crie, almost half a century has elapsed. Over this period, films inevitably have addressed a spectrum of visual, ideological and political tropes. They range from unadorned depictions of the newly independent states and their societies to highly aestheticised productions, not to mention surreal and poetic visions as displayed for instance in Djibril Diop Mambéty’s Touki Bouki (1973). Most of the early films send an overt socio-political message which is a clear and explicit denunciation of a corrupt state of affairs (Souleymane Cissé’s Baara, 1977). They aim to trigger strong emotional and political responses from the viewer, in unambiguous support for the film-maker’s stand. Sembene himself declared: “I consider cinema a means of political action” (Murphy 2000: 221). Similarly, the Mauritanian director Med Hondo wishes to “take up this technical medium and to make it a mouthpiece on behalf of [his] fellow Africans and Arabs” (Jeffries 2002: 11). All this echoes the claims of the Fédération Panafricaine des Cinéastes (FEPACI, founded in 1969), an organisation “dedicated to the liberation of Africa”. In sharp contrast to the incipient momentum given Francophonie by Bourguiba, the Nigerien Hamani Diori and the Senegalese Senghor, who invoked a worldwide communauté organique francophone, FEPACI called for “the creation of an aesthetics of disalienation… [using] didactic... forms to denounce the alienation of countries that were politically independent but culturally and economically dependent on the West” (Diawara 1996: 40). Sembene’s Xala (1974) became the blueprint for this, to this day the best-known vein of Francophone African cinema. Thus considered, this pedigree seems a million miles from mainstream global cinema with its overriding mission to entertain. A question therefore arises: to what extent can a cinema that sprang from such beginnings be seen to interface in any meaningful way with a global film industry that, overwhelmingly and for a century, has indeed entertained the world – with Hollywood at its centre?

The resilience of democratic institutions in Britain, Australia and the United States under conditions of total war

To what extent are democratic institutions resilient when nation states mobilise for war? Normative and empirical political theorists have long argued that wars strengthen the executive and threaten constitutional politics. In modern democracies, national assemblies are supposed to hold the executive to account by demanding explanations for events and policies; and by scrutinising, reviewing and, if necessary, revising legislative proposals intended to be binding on the host society or policies that have been implemented already. This article examines the extent to which the British and Australian parliaments and the United States Congress held their wartime executives to account during World War II. The research finds that under conditions approaching those of total war, these democratic institutions not only continued to exist, but also proved to be resilient in representing public concerns and holding their executives to account, however imperfectly and notwithstanding delegating huge powers. In consequence, executives—more so British and Australian ministers than President Roosevelt—were required to be placatory as institutional and political tensions within national assemblies and between assemblies and executives continued, and assemblies often asserted themselves. In short, even under the most onerous wartime conditions, democratic politics mattered and democratic institutions were resilient.

Morality and politics: the free churches and the Labour Party between the wars

The inter-war period saw the decline of the Liberal party, the traditional political ally of the free churches, and the rise of the Labour party. This article traces the responses of the free churches to these developments. The relationship of the free churches with the Labour party in this period is examined at three different levels; that of the free church leadership, that of the chapels and the ordinary people in the pews and that of the nonconformists who became active in the Labour party. Whilst attitudes towards the Labour party changed within free church institutions during the inter-war years they did not become important supporters of the party, or greatly influence it. The number and proportion of individual nonconformists who were active and influential in the party in this period was however considerable. In the process not only did Labour M.P.s become the main carriers of the nonconformist conscience on issues such as drink and gambling. They also made a distinctive and important contribution to the development and ideals of the Labour party.