Introduction
In "Afropean: Notes from Black Europe," author Johny Pitts takes readers on a captivating journey through the hidden world of Black Europe. As a British-born Black man from Sheffield, Pitts has always felt caught between two identities - European and African. This personal experience inspired him to embark on an ambitious backpacking trip across Europe to explore the often overlooked stories, communities, and cultures of Afro-Europeans.
Through his travels to cities like Paris, Brussels, Amsterdam, Berlin, Stockholm, Moscow, Marseille, and Lisbon, Pitts uncovers a rich tapestry of Black European life. He meets Surinamese-Dutch activists, Congolese artists, Black French protesters, and many others who are forging new identities as both African and European. Along the way, he grapples with complex questions of belonging, identity, and the lingering impacts of colonialism.
Part travelogue, part sociological study, and part personal reflection, "Afropean" sheds light on an often invisible aspect of European society and culture. Pitts' engaging writing style and keen observations bring to life the vibrant Afropean communities he encounters, while also examining the very real challenges of racism, economic inequality, and cultural erasure they face.
This eye-opening book challenges conventional notions of European identity and history. It reveals the deep historical connections between Europe and Africa, and how Black people have shaped the continent in profound ways. For readers interested in race, identity, and multicultural Europe, "Afropean" offers an illuminating look at an emerging pan-European Black identity.
Growing Up in Multicultural Sheffield
Johny Pitts' journey to explore Black Europe was shaped by his upbringing in Sheffield, England. As the son of a Black American father and white British mother, Pitts experienced firsthand the complexities of mixed racial identity in Europe.
He grew up in Firth Park, a vibrant working-class neighborhood in Sheffield with a diverse immigrant population. The area was originally built as housing for immigrant workers from British colonies in the late 19th century. By the time Pitts was growing up there, it had evolved into a multicultural mix of descendants of those original workers, white working-class families, and more recent immigrants from places like Yemen, India, Jamaica, Syria, Somalia, and Kosovo.
Pitts recalls Firth Park as a rough but dynamic and racially tolerant place. From his childhood bedroom window, he observed the multicultural dramas playing out on the streets - Yemeni weddings, reggae parties, as well as some of the darker aspects like gang activity and drug deals.
This diverse environment fostered a thriving hip-hop scene in Firth Park from the 1970s to 1990s. Pitts was introduced to underground hip-hop culture by friends of different backgrounds, including illegal block parties and pirate radio stations. This multicultural working-class milieu provided Pitts with a strong sense of identity in his youth.
However, by the mid-1990s when Pitts was a teenager, Firth Park began to change. Globalization and free trade policies led to the decline of local industries that many working-class and immigrant families relied on. The vibrant social fabric of the neighborhood started to fray under increasing economic pressures. An atmosphere of depression and desperation crept in, with many of Pitts' childhood friends turning to alcohol, drugs, and crime as they found themselves trapped in poverty.
This transformation of his childhood neighborhood was pivotal for Pitts. The proud multicultural working-class identity he had grown up with began to feel less stable. After studying in London, he increasingly felt caught between worlds - no longer fully belonging to the Black and Brown communities of his youth, but also not accepted by mainstream white British society.
It was this sense of displacement and questions about his identity as both Black and European that inspired Pitts to embark on his journey across the continent. He wanted to explore what it truly meant to be Afropean - to inhabit both African and European identities simultaneously.
Discovering Black Paris
Pitts' exploration of Black Europe began in Paris, a city with deep and fascinating connections to African and African American history and culture. He found that Paris is one of the Blackest cities in Europe outside of London, with vibrant African communities in neighborhoods like Barbès-Rochechouart and Château Rouge. These areas are filled with Moroccan shops, Senegalese restaurants, and Pan-African art galleries, showcasing the rich cultural tapestry of Black Paris.
The author discovered that the ties between African communities and France run much deeper than recent immigration. He learned about figures like Alexandre Dumas, the famous French author of classics like The Three Musketeers, who had African ancestry - his grandmother was an enslaved woman from Haiti.
Pitts also uncovered surprising connections between Paris and Black America. During World War I, an African American unit called the Harlem Hellfighters was stationed in France. These soldiers introduced jazz and other elements of Black American culture to the French, sparking a lasting fascination.
This cultural exchange continued in the 1920s and 30s with the Negritude movement, which coincided with the Harlem Renaissance in New York. Black American artists and intellectuals like writer Richard Wright and singer Josephine Baker were drawn to Paris. They joined forces with artists and thinkers from French colonies, such as Martinican writer Aimé Césaire and Senegalese poet Léopold Sédar Senghor. Together, these pioneers celebrated Blackness and African heritage as a source of artistic inspiration and beauty.
During his visit, Pitts unexpectedly found himself in the midst of a street protest that showed how this legacy of Black activism in Paris continues today. He joined Black Parisians from all walks of life protesting racist comments made by a prominent French businessman on national television. The protest highlighted ongoing issues of racism and injustice faced by Black communities in France.
Pitts observed that while Paris projects an image of diversity and openness, many Black residents still face significant challenges. Recent immigrants from North and West Africa often live in poor, isolated suburbs known as banlieues and work low-paying, difficult jobs. The protest Pitts witnessed was a reminder that the struggle for true equality and recognition is ongoing for Black Parisians.
Through his exploration of Paris, Pitts began to see how deeply intertwined African, American, and European Black experiences and cultures truly are. The city's history revealed centuries of cultural exchange, artistic collaboration, and shared struggles that have shaped what it means to be Black in Europe.
Brussels: Confronting Colonial Legacy
Pitts' next stop was Brussels, the capital of Belgium. While often considered a somewhat dull, bureaucratic city, Brussels holds a dark and brutal chapter of Afropean history - Belgium's colonial rule of the Congo in the early 20th century, which resulted in the deaths of over 10 million Congolese people.
Visiting the Royal Museum of Central Africa on the outskirts of Brussels, Pitts was struck by how little Belgium has reckoned with its colonial past. The museum, built for King Leopold II's World Fair in 1897, originally opened with a "human zoo" exhibit of 267 Congolese people brought from Africa. Today, it still houses a collection of colonial artifacts with minimal modern context or acknowledgment of the brutality of Belgian rule.
Even in Brussels' touristy city center, Pitts found reminders of colonial propaganda. In a shop dedicated to famous Belgian cartoonist Hergé, he came across a 1931 comic book titled "Tintin in the Congo." The book features racist caricatures of Africans and depicts the main character as a white savior figure, completely glossing over the reality of Belgium's violent exploitation of the Congo for ivory and rubber.
However, it was also in Brussels that Pitts discovered the origins of the contemporary concept of "Afropeanism." Belgian-Congolese singer Marie Daulne first used the term to describe her music project with Talking Heads singer David Byrne, which blended African and European influences. This idea of a new, holistic Black European identity emerging from the painful legacy of colonialism resonated deeply with Pitts.
He found a living example of Afropean culture in the Matongé district of Brussels. This vibrant neighborhood is home to a mix of Congolese, Rwandan, and Senegalese businesses - restaurants, hair salons, thrift stores, and jazz clubs. Wandering through Matongé, Pitts encountered many cultural nomads like himself - people who didn't feel they fully belonged to any single race, class, or nation, but who found unity in this fluid, multicultural identity.
The contrast between Belgium's failure to address its colonial history and the thriving Afropean community in Matongé highlighted for Pitts the complex reality of Black life in Europe. While the wounds of colonialism are still very present, new identities and cultures are emerging from that painful history, creating spaces where people can celebrate both their African heritage and their European home.
Amsterdam's Afro-Surinamese Activism
In Amsterdam, Pitts discovered a vibrant Afro-Surinamese community with deep historical ties to both Africa and America. The Netherlands' largest ethnic minority, Afro-Surinamese people are descendants of West Africans enslaved and brought to the Dutch colony of Suriname. Despite the Netherlands' tendency to downplay its colonial past, the Afro-Surinamese in Amsterdam have maintained a distinct and politically engaged community over the decades.
Pitts learned that this community played a role in major Black cultural and political movements of the 20th century - from the Harlem Renaissance in 1930s New York to Suriname's independence movement in the 1970s and the spread of international Marxist politics.
At the heart of Amsterdam's Afro-Surinamese community, Pitts visited the Hugo Olijfveld House, located in the city's famous red-light district. This building, taken over by Suriname's oldest association "Ons Suriname" in the 1970s, now serves as a multifunctional community center. It hosts various activist groups, including the New Urban Collective - a network of young Afro-Dutch students working to preserve Black history.
The New Urban Collective maintains the Black Archives, a collection of thousands of books and documents from important Black thinkers and leaders. This archive includes the forgotten legacy of Dutch-American revolutionaries Otto and Hermina Huiswoud. Born in South America, the Huiswouds became influential figures in Harlem's Black intellectual scene. Otto was a founding member of the American Communist Party and even met Lenin in Moscow. When anti-communist sentiment rose in the US after World War II, the couple moved to Amsterdam, where they became leaders in the Afro-Surinamese community and advocates for socialist politics.
Pitts was impressed by how young activists at the New Urban Collective were working to preserve and continue this legacy of Afro-Surinamese activism. They use the histories contained in the Black Archives to inspire and mobilize Dutch Afropeans today. For example, the group has been at the forefront of protests against "Zwarte Piet" - a racist caricature from Dutch Christmas traditions that involves people dressing in blackface.
Through his encounters in Amsterdam, Pitts saw how Afropean communities are not just preserving their history, but actively using it to fight ongoing racism and shape their future in Europe. The Afro-Surinamese example showed him how deep historical connections between Africa, Europe, and America continue to influence Black European identity and activism today.
Berlin's Contrasts: White Anti-Fascists and Black Rastafarians
Pitts' journey took him next to Berlin, where he encountered some surprising contrasts in the city's approach to multiculturalism and anti-racism. His first experience was joining an anti-fascist demonstration in the city center, which at first glance he mistook for a gathering of skinheads due to the appearance of the protesters.
He soon realized he had stumbled upon a march by the Antifa - an international anti-fascist organization with roots in Nazi resistance movements. The event was meant to commemorate Silvio Meier, an activist killed by a Nazi gang in 1992. However, Pitts observed that the march seemed more focused on loud music, drinking, and minor scuffles with police than on addressing serious issues of racism.
What struck Pitts most was that despite protesting fascist violence that directly affects Germany's minority communities, almost all the participants were young and white. This seemed to reflect a disconnect between anti-fascist rhetoric and the lived experiences of people of color in Germany.
Pitts noted that racism remains a deadly problem in the country. Since the fall of the Berlin Wall, over 130 people have been killed in racially motivated attacks in Germany, including the notorious National Socialist Underground (NSU) murders of German-Turkish individuals in the 2000s.
In contrast to the white-dominated anti-fascist scene, Pitts found a more diverse and welcoming community at a Sudanese restaurant called Nil in the Friedrichshain district. There, he met a self-styled Black prophet named Mohammed, who introduced him to YAAM - the Young African Artist Market. This community center, nightclub, and youth center turned out to be the multicultural heart of Berlin's large Rastafarian community.
Pitts learned about the origins of Rastafarianism in Ethiopia and its spread to Jamaica, where it merged elements of Christianity, African folklore, Black power politics, and Pan-Africanism. In Berlin, this syncretic belief system had been embraced by both white Germans and West African immigrants, creating a unique cultural fusion.
The YAAM community reminded Pitts of a quote from Afro-German poet May Ayim: "i will be African even if you want me to be german and i will be german even if my blackness does not suit you." This sentiment seemed to capture the essence of the Afropean identity Pitts was exploring - the ability to embrace multiple cultural identities simultaneously.
The contrast between the white-dominated anti-fascist movement and the diverse Rastafarian community highlighted for Pitts the complexities of race and identity in Germany. While official anti-racist movements sometimes failed to include the very people they claimed to defend, organic multicultural communities were forming in unexpected places, creating new forms of Afropean identity and culture.
Stockholm's Paradox: Afropean Success and Hidden Injustice
Pitts' exploration of Afropean life took him to Stockholm, where he encountered a paradoxical situation. On the surface, Sweden appeared to be a kind of European utopia, with its strong social security system, free healthcare and education, and reputation for tolerance and progressiveness.
In Swedish media, Pitts observed many successful Black figures - from TV hosts to chefs to musicians like Neneh Cherry and Quincy Jones III. This visibility of Black success stories seemed to reflect Sweden's philosophy of folkhemmet, which encourages citizens to view their country as one big family.
However, Pitts discovered that beneath this veneer of tolerance and success, there were more complex realities. He met Saleh, a Tunisian bouncer, who pointed out a crucial but often overlooked fact: many immigrants are in Europe because European countries "destroyed" their home countries. This observation highlighted the connection between Europe's colonial past and present-day immigration patterns.
Pitts was surprised to learn that Sweden is the world's third-largest arms exporter, after Russia and Israel. Many of these weapons have fueled conflicts in the Middle East and Africa, contributing to the displacement of people who then seek refuge in Europe. This little-known fact stood in stark contrast to Sweden's peaceful, progressive image.
Even among well-educated Swedish Afropeans, Pitts noticed a tendency to criticize more recent Black immigrants for not adapting quickly enough to Swedish culture. For instance, he met Lucille, an Afro-Cuban-Swedish student who expressed concern about young people speaking "Rinkeby Swedish" - the slang of Sweden's largest immigrant neighborhood.
Rinkeby itself provided another example of the paradoxes in Swedish society. Once part of ambitious plans by socialist Prime Minister Olof Palme to provide immigrant communities with quality housing and public services, Rinkeby has since become a symbol of failed integration. After Palme's assassination in 1986 and the rise of global corporatism, many of these social projects were abandoned, pushing immigrants further to the margins of society.
Pitts reflected on how this situation embodied a quote from British journalist Owen Hatherley: in Stockholm, "social democracy was abandoned only for the poor, its innovations were retained for the bourgeoisie." This observation captured the contradiction between Sweden's progressive ideals and the realities faced by many immigrants and their descendants.
Through his experiences in Stockholm, Pitts came to understand that even in seemingly tolerant and successful societies, the legacy of colonialism and the challenges of true integration persist. The Swedish example showed him how Afropean success stories can sometimes mask deeper issues of inequality and historical injustice.
Moscow: Faded Dreams of Soviet Multiculturalism
Pitts approached his visit to Moscow with trepidation, aware of Russia's reputation for racist attacks against immigrants, particularly African students. Even the clerk at the Russian consulate in London had warned him not to walk alone at night. However, Pitts was also curious about Russia's complex history with race and multiculturalism.
He learned that Russia wasn't always an unwelcoming place for Black people. For instance, Alexander Pushkin, one of the most important figures in Russian literature, had African ancestry. His great-grandfather, Abram Gannibal, was born in Ethiopia and eventually became an important figure in the court of Peter the Great.
Pitts also discovered the story of Paul Robeson, an African American actor and singer who visited Moscow in the 1930s. Robeson was deeply impressed by how respectfully he was treated by the white working class in the Soviet Union, writing in his diary, "Here, I am [...] a human being."
This positive treatment of Black visitors was rooted in the Soviet Union's communist ideology, which fostered solidarity between Russia's white working class and Black resistance movements worldwide. From the 1950s to the 1980s, the Soviet Union aligned itself with the civil rights movement in the US and many African independence movements, even encouraging African students to study at Russian universities.
However, Pitts found that modern Moscow bears little resemblance to this idealistic past. With the collapse of the Soviet Union in 1991, its communal, multicultural spirit began to wane. New Russian leaders, including Vladimir Putin, have fueled a wave of nationalism, xenophobia, and homophobia.
Visiting The People's Friendship University of Moscow, once a symbol of Soviet multiculturalism, Pitts found a very different reality. The remaining African students live isolated lives, rarely venturing beyond their campus at the outskirts of the city. They regularly face overt racism from white Russians, a far cry from the respect and solidarity of earlier decades.
Pitts reflected on how the Cold War had impacted these changes. Western powers had fought hard against the alliances between socialist countries and Black liberation movements, often resorting to violence. The assassinations of leaders like Martin Luther King Jr. in the US, Olof Palme in Sweden, and Patrice Lumumba in Congo were all linked to this ideological struggle.
In the end, the West's victory in the Cold War seemed to have extinguished the dream of a multicultural, socialist alternative. The Russia Pitts encountered was a place where the remnants of Soviet-era African students lived precarious lives, sharing their isolated campus with local drug addicts and alcoholics.
This visit to Moscow showed Pitts how quickly progress in race relations can be reversed when political ideologies shift. The contrast between the Soviet Union's past embrace of Black visitors and modern Russia's hostility towards them was a stark reminder of the ongoing challenges facing Afropeans across the continent.
Marseille: A Glimpse of Afropean Utopia
After his sobering experiences in Moscow, Pitts' journey took him back to France, this time to the southern regions. As he traveled through Provence, he observed the luxurious villas along the coast, many of which were relics of colonial times. These opulent buildings, he realized, were often built with wealth extracted from African colonies.
For instance, the Villa Leopolda in Villefranche-sur-Mer, known as the world's most expensive villa, was built by Belgian King Leopold II using money from his brutal exploitation of the Congo. Similarly, the Villa del Mare in Roquebrune-Cap-Martin once belonged to Congolese military official Joseph Mobutu, who was involved in the assassination of Congolese Prime Minister Patrice Lumumba.
However, amidst these symbols of colonial exploitation, Pitts also found a more positive legacy. He learned about James Baldwin, the renowned African American writer who had made his home in the French Riviera. Baldwin, who had fled America's racism in the 1940s, found acceptance in France and became part of the Negritude movement. His villa in Saint-Paul-de-Vence became a gathering place for Black intellectuals and artists from around the world, including Frantz Fanon, Richard Wright, Nina Simone, and Maya Angelou.
But it was in Marseille that Pitts found what he considered to be a true Afropean utopia. This industrial port city, with its long history of immigration and multiculturalism, embodied a different kind of French dream. As a gateway between Europe and North Africa, Marseille has always been a melting pot of cultures.
Pitts was struck by how Marseille's diverse population - including North Africans from Algeria, Morocco, and Tunisia, alongside white working-class French and more recent immigrants from Romania - seemed to coexist harmoniously. The city's unpretentious, communal working-class spirit resonated deeply with him.
He found echoes of Marseille's multicultural history in literature, recalling how the city featured in Alexandre Dumas' "The Three Musketeers" and how Jamaican poet Claude McKay had captured its vibrant, diverse atmosphere in his 1929 novel "Banjo."
For Pitts, Marseille represented the Afropean bohemia he had been searching for throughout his journey. Here, he found a place where different cultures and histories intertwined naturally, creating a unique and vibrant urban fabric. The city's ability to maintain its working-class, multicultural character in the face of broader societal changes impressed him.
Marseille showed Pitts that his vision of Afropea - a space where African and European identities could coexist and blend seamlessly - wasn't just a dream. It was a reality in this French port city, where centuries of migration and cultural exchange had created a truly diverse and integrated community.
This experience in Marseille reinvigorated Pitts' belief in the possibility of a pan-European Black identity. It demonstrated that despite the challenges and historical injustices he had encountered elsewhere, there were places in Europe where Afropean culture was thriving and evolving in exciting ways.
Lisbon: The Heart of Afropean Community
Pitts' final major stop on his journey was Lisbon, where he discovered another vibrant example of Afropean life. Portugal's colonial history has created deep connections with African countries, particularly Mozambique, Cape Verde, and Angola. This has resulted in a significant Afropean population in Lisbon with complex, intertwined identities.
Pitts' guide in Lisbon, Nino, exemplified this complexity. Nino's mother was Black but identified as Portuguese, while his white father was from Mozambique and had been exiled after the country gained independence. This blending of identities and histories was common among Lisbon's Afropeans.
The heart of Afropean Lisbon, Pitts discovered, was an area called Cova de Moura. This neighborhood is an informal settlement reminiscent of a Brazilian favela, with dilapidated low-rise buildings. Despite its reputation as a no-go zone for outsiders and even local police, Pitts found it to be a lively and colorful district.
With the help of a local guide named Jacaré, Pitts explored Cova de Moura. He saw children playing in the streets and walls covered with murals of Black icons like Nelson Mandela. Despite the evident poverty and reports of crime, Jacaré explained that many residents wouldn't leave even if they could, due to the strong sense of community.
The centerpiece of this community was the Associação Cultural de Juventude, a multifunctional community center established in the 1980s. This space serves as a children's library, women's rights center, citizens advice bureau, and recording studio, among other functions. When Pitts visited, he found a local band playing Afrobeat music while residents danced and enjoyed cheap beer.
This vibrant street culture and strong community spirit in Cova de Moura represented yet another hidden Afropean narrative that Pitts had uncovered on his journey. Despite the challenges faced by its residents, the neighborhood had managed to create a space where Afropean culture could thrive.
Pitts was struck by how the residents of Cova de Moura had built their own world within Lisbon, maintaining connections to their African heritage while also being part of Portuguese society. This seemed to embody the Afropean identity he had been exploring throughout his travels - a fusion of African and European elements creating something new and unique.
The sense of community and cultural pride Pitts witnessed in Cova de Moura left a strong impression on him. It showed how Afropeans, even when marginalized or facing difficult circumstances, could create vibrant, supportive communities that celebrated their complex identities.
As his journey neared its end, Pitts reflected on how places like Cova de Moura represented the future of Afropean identity. These communities, forged from colonial histories but looking towards the future, were actively shaping what it means to be both African and European in the 21st century.
Conclusion: The Future of Afropea
Pitts' final destination was Gibraltar, the British territory on Spain's southern coast. From Europa Point in Gibraltar, it's possible to see the shores of Africa on a clear day. However, when Pitts arrived, it was too cloudy to see more than a few yards ahead.
This obscured view seemed symbolic of Pitts' journey. He had set out to find "Afropea" - a concept of Black Europe that had previously been hazy and ill-defined. Through his travels, he had cleared away some of the fog, uncovering vibrant Afropean communities and complex histories that are often overlooked in mainstream European narratives.
Reflecting on his experiences, Pitts realized that he no longer needed to see Africa from afar. Throughout his journey across Europe, he had encountered Africa in countless forms - in the streets of Paris, the community centers of Amsterdam, the nightclubs of Berlin, and the favela-like neighborhoods of Lisbon.
These diverse African communities across Europe convinced Pitts that Afropea wasn't just a concept or a dream - it had a rich past, a vibrant present, and a hopeful future. He had witnessed firsthand how Afropeans were creating dynamic communities, preserving their histories, and forging new identities that bridged their African heritage and European homes.
However, Pitts' journey also revealed the ongoing challenges faced by Black communities in Europe. Many of these communities are still disadvantaged by socioeconomic pressures, face discrimination and racism, and are often rendered invisible in increasingly gentrified cities. He saw how the legacy of colonialism continues to shape European society, even as many countries struggle to reckon with their colonial past.
Despite these challenges, Pitts found hope in the resilience and creativity of the Afropean communities he encountered. From activist organizations in Amsterdam working to preserve Black history, to Rastafari clubs in Berlin creating unique cultural fusions, to community centers in Lisbon fostering strong local bonds, Afropeans across the continent were actively shaping their own narratives and futures.
Pitts concluded that the future of Europe is inextricably linked with the future of its Black communities. The Afropean identity he explored - fluid, multifaceted, and resilient - offers a model for how Europe might navigate its increasingly diverse and globalized future. By embracing its Afropean heritage, Europe has the opportunity to create a more inclusive and equitable society that truly reflects its complex history and diverse population.
As he ended his journey, Pitts felt that he had not only discovered Afropea but had also found a new understanding of his own identity as a Black European. The stories, communities, and individuals he encountered had shown him that it was possible to be both African and European, to honor multiple heritages and histories simultaneously.
"Afropean" serves as both a travelogue and a manifesto, calling for greater recognition of Black European experiences and contributions. It challenges readers to reconsider their understanding of European identity and history, highlighting the integral role that Africa and Africans have played in shaping the continent.
Ultimately, Pitts' journey across Black Europe reveals a hidden continent within a continent - one that is vibrant, complex, and essential to understanding contemporary Europe. As Europe continues to grapple with questions of identity, migration, and multiculturalism, the Afropean perspective offers valuable insights and possibilities for a more inclusive future.