A Primer on the Black Politics of “Black Panther”
Spoiler Alert: This post is full of character descriptions and plot points. This is a personal post and not associated with any of my professional affiliations.
I’ve never been a comic book guy. Like many Americans, I’m programmed more for film and television versions of the storied comic book heroes. So what follows should not be read as a comment from someone who knows the Black Panther stories from a purist perspective. I’m not an expert on the storyline, the characters, or history of Wakanda. I glean a lot of extra detail from friends who are really into this stuff — e.g., that Storm of X-Men fame factors into other BP storylines — but most of my feelings reflect my understanding of black American life through my family, the history of the African diaspora, particularly in the United States, and how Black Panther the film resonated with themes that have long been present in all of these.
I was most impressed with Black Panther because of the conflicts between and within the characters. Specifically, historical conflicts within the American black community and the African diaspora were on display, notably black nationalism, Pan-Africanism, the allure of revolutionary change, and inter- and intra-class struggles.
Wakanda is rather obviously a black nation, and it’s intentionally isolated from the rest of the world. It is a black utopia, free from white supremacy, colonial oppression, and poverty. But even in this scenario, black people got black people problems. And this is why I loved this film.
If you look at the characters as threads and impulses in black American history, both personal and political, you can begin to understand the push and pull of various ideas over time. I can’t speak to what writer-director Ryan Coogler was trying to do with these characters and their story arcs, but to me, they are much deeper than your typical action film.(Character list via IMDB)
T’Chaka: The old ways. Proud, traditional, conservative. We take care of our own, (too) narrowly understood. His myopia blinds him to the costs of his actions and the responsibility he has to others.
T’Challa: He’s the protagonist struggling with inheriting the legacy of his father and what his own legacy will be. His personal morality is core of the film — what happens to everyone else happens in his heart and mind — though he remains flawed as he moves toward his (and his country’s) new place in the world. The King comes to terms with himself and his place after learning from those — particularly the women — closest to him.
Shuri: Black youth and genius. The King’s little sister is rebellious, playful, and irreverent. She is the brilliant hope for a bright future. She brings comic relief, but not ever as a clown. (I’m still crying over WHAT ARE THOSE?! )
N’Jobu: The second son and black revolutionary, circa 1970s. (It is Oakland, after all.) He understands injustice faced by others, internalizes it, and looks to end it by any means necessary. He is betrayed by the Establishment, and the Revolution he sought costs him his life and, as it turns out, the soul of his son. His tragedy is that the love for his people, broadly, robbed his son of a father. His recognition of this on the ancestral plane was heartbreaking.
W’Kabi: Agent for change, initially through the Establishment, and thus also represents the anger so many of us feel when in the face of injustice, someone says “be patient.” W’Kabi awaited the vengeance for the racist white terrorism and plunder (personified by Ulysses Klaue) that killed his parents, and when that was frustrated, he becomes disillusioned with waiting. His anger and vengeance leads him toward Killmonger and the Wakandan Revolution. Revolutionary Black Nationalism suits his sense of justice. (It is ironic, however, given that N’Jobu’s actions 30 years previous are what led to W’Kabi’s parents’ deaths.)
Okoye: Black womanhood; love, strength, and selflessness. I find her story most compelling, as she is forced between the faction she loves (“my heart is with you”) and what duty tells her she must serve. (Also, she is clearly the baddest [person] in Wakanda and I LOVE HER FOR IT.) Ultimately, she can fulfill her duty and join her preferred faction — indeed, it is more of a dream than a faction without her leadership and strength — but it too has a cost, and her choice could not be clearer. (I screamed at her moment.) She and the other women in Wakandan leadership are the backbone of the country.
Killmonger: The Tragic American Black Man; violent Black Nationalist Revolutionary. Rightfully angry for what was taken from him and how he was failed by everyone, he is consumed by hate and death. The best use the United States had for him was to use him for their own ends, knocking over other governments for plunder. As T’Challa tells him, he has become what he hates. But you see a LOT of sentiment among Americans that “Killmonger was right.” He was right that Wakanda — perhaps, the black bourgeoisie; certainly American society — should do more to help those left behind and who still face the abuse they’ve been able to shelter themselves from, and may themselves indirectly inflict. But as much as we’d like to at times, we shouldn’t burn it all down. Killmonger’s fate is not one of redemption, but an indictment of everyone who helped create him. And it is a sweeping indictment, indeed.
Nakia: As the third woman in the Wakandan Triumfeminate, she holds the key to the future of Wakanda’s relationship to the rest of the world. From her introduction in the film, she understands the greater responsibility to the rest of the diaspora. T’Challa coming to her represents so much more than a love story.
There is so much more to the movie and these characters than these points, but these should be a starting point for those who may be less familiar with the subtext. The politics are clear echos of the recent past. American black nationalism has often melded with Pan African visions of global responsibility and fraternity, but there is a tension between what one does for one’s family, one’s community, and how that would translate to others outside of one’s direct sphere. Killmonger embodies the competing conflicts in the diaspora between who comprises “us” and what “we” intend to do about it when we think about inequities within that “us.” W’Kabi is our often-destructive frustration that can be susceptible to Killmonger’s nihilistic power play. Nakia solves this conflict, at least in the sense of giving T’Challa and Wakanda a more engaged and responsible direction forward.
Black Panther serves as a reflection of the many frustrations and conflicts now present in black American life and politics. More than that, it serves as inspiration to those of us who are committed to making life better for people, and for black people in particular.
#WakandaForever.
