Despite the country's long history of racial segregation, the long absence of communication between South Africans and other Africans was severe. It is not clear whether Neocosmos refers to parastatal entities such as country strength. Given the suggestive shadow of the above background, it is time to turn to the paradigm of the community of space and the community of time to make sense of the current history of violence before our eyes.
Discussion of the two concepts of "space" and "time" and their related views adds to the paradoxical nature of the subject of xenophobia. If we start with the concept of home, it is not surprising that Africans from other parts of the continent are seen as foreigners. Schuetz's two concepts of the community of space and the community of time, assigned to the cultural analysis of xenophobia, play an important role.
The community of space also means that “a particular sector of the outside world is equally accessible to all partners in the face-to-face relationship” (Schuetz, 1945, p. 371). The community of time', as Schuetz describes it, 'relates not so much to the extent of the outer (objective) time shared by the partners as to the fact that each of them participates in the rolling inner life of the other' ( Schütz, 1945, p. 371). Where South Africa reappears on the agenda, let it be because we want to discuss what its contribution will be to bringing about the new African Renaissance.
And guitars remodel inhabited by clattering hooves echoing the resounding thump of pestle blows.
Analysis of Two South African Films on Violence
The Bantu migrations that flooded populations in the central and southern regions of the continent speak clearly to their common home, wherever it was, and to the cultural and linguistic ties between them. The movie plays the emphatic voice of the country's grief over its dead youths, but it also explodes the youths'. The story of xenophobia to which one must return is, if anything, a recovery of the violent culture of the 1970s.
As evidenced by the murder of the black cop, burned alive by the mob of angry youths for siding with the white men, the black youths find the brother-to-brother relational structure imploded. I argue that the hostility of the youth towards the foreigners has two sources: the first is the recording of the violence of the past. Set during the political death of apartheid, Jerusalema calls out for the place of youth in South Africa's post-apartheid economy, where education and gangsterism have set the tone.
The different types of characters – the African woman who helps Kunene register his 'Hillbrow People's Housing Trust', a Portuguese prankster whose building Kunene steals, the Jews whose family he has a girlfriend with, Leah Friedlander, whose brother he offers to rescue drug dealers even though he dies as a result of his drugs – offers a believable insight into South Africa as a mix of racial groups and 'rainbow nation' in which everyone is looking for a better life. While the romance between Kunene and his Jewish girlfriend shows a step towards the country's integration, the "we" of Schuetz and of the Ubuntu principle, Kunene's irreverent eye towards Africans from other African countries nullifies it . Again, one should not be misled by mere appearances into believing that the culture of xenophobia is completely foreign to South African black middle class - the intellectuals.
While big business is 'denationalising' and 'Africanising', poor black South Africa and parts of the middle class are being socialized into something we should call 'national chauvinism'. That being said, let me turn to the issue of the representation of violence and black people in this film. In his assessment of the situation, Chatteris sees the relationship between South Africans and foreign nationals as a slippery slope.
The main character should not be the 1990s boy, Kunene, himself a victim of apartheid violence, because "real" gangsters, as we must observe, are the bourgeoisie. While Ziman's observation of the city of Johannesburg is accurate, it produces an ambiguous narrative in which the social space of violence, at the hands of an irredeemable black man, leaves much to be desired. You would expect to see actions of the capitalists' gluttony giving rise to frustrations, but these, too, are less articulated.
The creation of the black gangster as a character is nothing more than a tool used by artists to show a post-apartheid South Africa that has become violent. Similarly, Mai Palmberg (2001) argues, “The black image for better or worse remains tarnished” and “the negative images and stereotypes are as old as the relationship between Europeans and Africans” (p. 7).
Conclusion: Coming out of Intractability
While it is true that viewing violent films is inevitable, as violence in today's world happens every second, careful attention is required as to how it should be represented. Is there any hope that the negative portrayal of black men in the media can change. Shall we reckon with the distant western media involved in the denigration of black humanity before we have our dignity back and unite on our own soil.
Isn't it necessary for the media in Africa to play a serious role in restoring the tarnished image of their continent? As things stand, the image of the black man is positioned in the media as an "other," and is a subject that needs film study. Both the written literature and the media should try to use strategies to teach schoolchildren and the general public how to solve their problems.
If it were necessary to refer to a work of art that critically and entertainingly addresses Africa's problems while suggesting solutions, there would be no hesitation in quoting Ousmane Sembene's Xala, whose qualities have not been celebrated. It is an account of El Hadji's impotence as a result of a spell cast on him on the night of his third wedding. The authors argue that derigidification converts persistence into tractability, and that "we" replaces the "us/them" split (p. 80), with the result that the parties in conflict "accept and even value their differences" . However, this is achievable once identities are transformed – facilitated by “dialogue”. Although mention is made of Schwartz, Schuetz and Kriesberg, no one explains the "we" better than the African himself.
Africans apparently do not perceive Descartes' "I think therefore I am" but rather "I am because we are". One might object that the African does not speak of personal consciousness but of "we," but for the African the collective "we" is taken seriously. For him, it is the existence of a social group that gives meaning to the individual being, if it is. Therefore, what the French philosopher Jean Paul Sartre wrote in 1958 in his essay entitled "Nous sommes tous des assassins" ("We are all murderers") was not a fiction.
It's the Bible that he was translating; it is the brotherhood of man, fatalism and responsibility that he referred to.2 It is important to emphasize that Ubuntu is associated with both humanism and unity. Man is united with man, from nation to nation, and stupid is the idea that convinces us that man lives for himself. What the brothers seek to vent their hatred is not battle, the abstract, strategic destruction of the enemy; it is the individual victory, the physical conflict and the embrace; and this is how they die, in the frames.
Whether womb, throne or arena, they can never escape the same space that confines them, a unique protocol has determined their birth, their life and their death. Representation of the 'black' male gangster: A comparative analysis of stereotypes in three South African films - Mampantsula (1988), Jerusalema (2008), and KZN Ruins.