…And he really wants you to know that. In his Dark Star Safari: Overland from Cairo to Cape Town—part history book, travel guide, and adventure memoir—Mr. Theroux gleefully points out the idiocies and self-indulgences of American and European travelers in Africa, all the while cleverly disguised as one of them. In a impressive show of stamina, after all his sneering at the banal conversation of rich, khaki-clad safari vacationers, he still manages to find time to turn around and blast those annoyingly energetic, clueless, penny-pinching backpackers. The only fortunate souls the great Theroux magnanimously spares from his merciless pen are the Africans themselves, whom he knows to be generous and wise, exploited and patronized, and tragically misunderstood… unless they happen to piss him off, and then fuck ‘em, the miserable, ignorant freeloaders. Readers, take note: this Mr. T pities NO fool.
Yes, he is intelligent, and worldly, too. But neither of these qualities eliminate the fact that Mr. Theroux is a smug, arrogant, self-righteous, obnoxious, crotchety snob. And I say this as someone who admires him. Dark Star Safari, as the full title indicates, is an account of his trek from the northern tip of Egypt all the way down to the Atlantic coast of Africa’s southernmost nation, all by road, rail, or water (with the exception of one short flight to Sudan’s capital, due to that nation’s continuing land border complications). During his travels, nothing appears to afford Mr. Theroux more pleasure than to judge anyone and everyone, and to find them lacking. Apparently no one except clever old Paul gets it, whatever the hell “it” is. In his contempt for the unwashed (and washed) masses, he alternately praises or scorns Africans and their customs, depending on whether he wants to belittle his fellow Westerners or to simply place himself on a pedestal above the rest of mankind. I suppose this is one of the hazards of living purely as an observer and not a participant: you may forget from time to time that you, too, are human. On the other hand, it is refreshing (for me) to read the prose of a former Peace Corps volunteer (Mr. Theroux served in Malawi from 1963 to 1965) that does not gush about the magic of Africa nor the innocent nobility of the people there. Mr. Theroux is obviously fond of the continent and its inhabitants, but he does not do them the disservice of over-romanticizing them.
Although his initial goal is to travel through Africa to satisfy his own curiosity on how the place has changed in the 30+ years since he last lived there, over the course of several months his trip becomes more and more a critical examination of development and aid efforts in Africa, both foreign and domestic, assessing them on their concrete effectiveness instead of their ethereal intentions. His findings are disturbing: rather than eliminating Africa’s endemic problems, over the years many aid organizations have become entrenched, more devoted to maintaining their budgets and presence than to combating the dilemmas they are supposed to be solving. In general, Mr. Theroux has a low opinion of the aid workers (or “agents of virtue”, as he derisively labels them) he observed on his voyage. In his words, “they were, in general, oafish self-dramatizing prigs, and often complete bastards.”* He comes to the conclusion that foreign development groups can, in some cases, even hurt development efforts, fostering a sense of entitled helplessness in a country’s population while engaging in projects that should be their government’s responsibility, relieving it of most obligations and thus encouraging (or at least accommodating) corruption and waste of resources on a monumental scale. He is not alone in his thinking, as many Africans he interviews in the course of his trip complain that such groups drain local talent from the public sector and often have no idea what the true needs of the people they claim to help actually are. Even more discouraging, he comments on how the agents of virtue he encounters are pursuing development agendas identical to those of their predecessors from 40 years ago, with few positive results to show for their efforts. To boil it down, more and more money is being thrown at a problem, in a manner proven not to work, with little to no variation in strategy.
As caustic and cynical as Mr. Theroux tends to be, I find the majority of his criticisms—from development efforts to the idiocy of tourists wearing shorts with knee socks—to be right on the money. I could even see myself turning into this guy in 30 years’ time: cantankerous, sarcastic, and dismissive of others’ efforts to change the world for the better. (Wait—in 30 years? Hell, that’s me now.) My real problem with Paul Theroux is his casual hypocrisy, ridiculing other travelers for their actions, but then later partaking in the same doings himself. He makes fun of those who don’t take local transport, but by the end of his trip eschews all rides that are not luxury bus or via first-class train compartment; likewise, he takes great pride in being the anti-tourist, but makes a prolonged stop at a high-class wild game reserve, where he sips fine wine in a ritzy lodge in between animal sightings. It may come as no surprise, as Mr. Theroux undertook his transcontinental safari on the eve of a milestone birthday, that he appears to resent younger travelers, backpackers especially. He never misses an opportunity to mock their attire, their tendencies towards caution and budgeting, their ignorance of obscure local customs, and even their musical preferences.
Dark Star Safari is not all doom and foreboding future. Time and again, Mr. Theroux notes examples of the resilience of Africans, and their ability to steadily survive anything, from power-mad dictators, to collapsing currencies, to well-intentioned but uninspired missionaries. He even notes signs of progress in some countries, such as Uganda, where parents are now encouraging their children to stay and build in their homeland. All the same, speaking as someone who has been trying to work in Africa for some time now, I for one would appreciate it if, now and then, Mr. Theroux ceased his jeering and offered some constructive criticism... the operative word here, Paul, being "constructive." For some real kicks, read this book simultaneously with Jeffrey Sachs’ The End of Poverty, another book concerned in part with the issues facing developing African nations. Both authors are insufferably arrogant know-it-alls, but on opposite ends of the spectrum, Theroux being the cynic and Sachs the optimist when it comes to foreign aid. In the end, you may be surprised by how much the two men agree on the problems with the development industry as it stands now… starting with the fact that it is an industry.
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* Paul Theroux, Dark Star Safari: Overland from Cairo to Cape Town (New York: Mariner Books, 2004) 146.
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