in Sam’s mind and brings the events of the novel proper in its wake.

At the outset of the novel, Achebe plunges the reader directly into an argument between Chris and Sam taking place at a cabinet meeting of government ministers. Only gradually during the course of the first few chapters does he fill in the background information necessary to comprehend all the implications of this initial scene. This exposition of past events occurs in a skillfully orchestrated variety of modes—through first- as well as third-person narration, dialogue, and the inner monologue of memory and reminiscence. By giving each of the four figures a share in narrating the situation from a personal vantage point, Achebe achieves what Ikem calls at one point “the very stuff of life,” a richly complex fictional reality filled with the ambiguities and contradictions inherent in everyday reality. For Achebe and his alter ego in the novel, who calls on Walt Whitman as a poet-witness to the multitude of perspectives even within the individual, orthodoxy or lack of contradiction is anathema to political thought and art.

Sam’s rule over Kangan is fatally flawed precisely because it demands confirmation and forbids contradiction. His training as a military officer at Sandhurst has blinded him to compromise and taught him to perceive in the absolute terms of a tyrant. In his mind, the longtime loyalty of his two friends seems to be evolving into treason. A native son of Abazon—the only province unsupportive of Sam’s campaign for the title President for Life—Ikem appears particularly suspect when a noisy delegation from the province appears outside the council chamber. Fearing the beginnings of an insurrection, Sam leaves the chamber and seeks private council from the obsequious Professor Okong. Depicted as an opportunist and clown, Okong nevertheless possesses the acute sensitivity of the court lackey for saying what may be only at an unconscious level in the mind of his superior. With great subtlety, he alludes to Abazon as rebellious and to the danger of even greater disaffection being fomented by Ikem and Chris.

His suspicions raised to a conscious level, Sam next calls in his Attorney General to confirm them. An even greater master of sycophancy than Okong, the Attorney General expertly reflects and embellishes His Excellency’s state of mind. A man whose reasoning powers were formed by an inherited inferiority complex toward the white man, he rationalizes the social difference between him and His Excellency:You went to Lord Lugard College where half of your teachers were Englishmen. Do you know, the nearest white men I saw in my school were an Indian and two Pakistanis. Do you know, Your Excellency, that I was never taught by a real white man until I went to read law at Exeter in my old age as it were.

Long after the British have abandoned Africa, psychic remnants of colonialism still exercise control over the Attorney General’s attitudes. In parodying these attitudes, Achebe seeks to contribute to their extirpation.

Yet such figures as the Attorney General, Achebe makes clear, are not the main culprits in prolonging the African inferiority complex toward the white man: The leaders of postcolonial states themselves imported the British sense of class discrimination along with their education and training. Sam’s major flaw, in Ikem’s eyes, was always a foolish admiration for the customs of well-to-do Englishmen. Yet, as a practical politician, Ikem recognizes that the British have long been an anachronism on the stage of world affairs. The lingering psychological effects of being for so long the “white man’s burden” still have to be swept away, but the imminent dangers to postcolonial African states are posed by the economic power of the United States as well as the psychopathological aberrations of rulers such as Idi Amin and Jean Bedel Bokassa. Moreover, economic exploitation of black by black in the state of Kangan, Ikem maintains, has replaced the racial exploitation of colonialism, and Sam’s government has failed to reestablish the vital links from the top to the bottom of the societal pyramid.

Despite his radical social analysis, Ikem is not a revolutionary or utopian thinker. He stubbornly and somewhat naïvely clings to the hope that he and Chris can penetrate the wall of lackeys surrounding Sam before it is too late. In a last speech to university students after his suspension from the newspaper, Ikem chides his audience for blaming the ills of their state on imperialism and international capitalism. The real causes lie closer to home among the self-satisfied civil servants and urban population of the middle class, whose lack of productivity ensures that rural villages will long remain without the benefits of modernization. Students too, he insists, live as parasites on the body of the state and belong to the retarding rather than to the progressive forces of their society. While Ikem is murdered, after his last speech is twisted into treason and during the struggles of the state to maintain a hold on the reins of power, Chris perishes almost accidentally in the chaotic circumstances once these reins have been lost. Too rigid and insulated to be capable of reform, Sam’s government is finally overtaken by the fate of its predecessors.

Of the four major figures, only Beatrice, Chris’s lover, remains alive at the end of the novel. Although reared by a sternly Christian father, she received an African name at birth, Nwanyibuife, which translated means: “A female is also something.” A brilliant student with an honors degree in English from London University, Beatrice had rejected the sexism of her family at an early age. She rebukes Ikem for giving women no clear role in his political thought apart from the traditional one of serving as a last, stopgap measure. Consistently opposed to orthodoxy and universal solutions, he replies by challenging her to find the particular role suitable to the oppression of her society. While free people are united globally in their freedom, he argues, each oppressed people has its own kind of oppression to which it must find a unique response.

In the native myth of creation which he inserts into the flow of the mundane events of the novel, Achebe sketches the archetypal outlines of a more active role for women in Beatrice’s society, a role grown dormant in colonial times. The Almighty, observing the unchecked rampages of Power in his creation, sends his daughter Idemili to Earth “to bear witness to the moral nature of authority by wrapping around Power’s rude waist a loincloth of peace and modesty.” Empowered with metaphysical authority, Idemili’s task is to exercise moral restraint on all earthly powers by controlling aggressiveness and pride. Although Beatrice has grown up in a world apart from the myths and legends of her ancestors, Achebe suggests that the role has found her through the inherited collective wisdom of her people. Vaguely aware at times of a sense of being two people, Beatrice unconsciously practices the civilizing task for which her African heritage has prepared her. She represents for Achebe the best hope of a people’s survival and continuity in a country in which violence and vainglory have become commonplace. Following the bloody end of the old regime and the ascension of yet another to the seat of power, she poses the author’s anguished yet undespairing question: “What must a people do to appease an embittered history?”

During the months after the coup d’ état, the minor characters of the novel meet regularly at Beatrice’s flat and coalesce into a nucleus of survivors, drawing strength from one another and nurturing the restorative elements of the tragedy. In the bond of love between Ikem and Elewa, the girl from the common people who has born his child, a link has been established between the past and future of Kangan. The living symbol of this link is their infant daughter. At the naming ceremony celebrated in the final pages of the novel, Beatrice assumes the task of the absent father in giving the baby the name “AMAECHINA: May-the-path-never-close,” a boy’s name signifying the eternal renewal of hope. Elewa’s mother and uncle arrive at the ceremony after the name has been given and are at first stunned by what they take to be a breach of custom. The uncle bursts into laughter when Beatrice claims parenthood of the child for all those gathered in the room. Only gradually does he agree to her metaphor and declares in a ritual prayer of consecration to his own god: “When I asked who named her they told me All of Us. May this child be the daughter of all of us.” Like other figures from the common people in Achebe’s novels, the uncle combines a rough exterior with an innate capacity for peaceful resolution of conflicts and a willingness to adapt to change, even if it entails a submisson of the individual will to the will of the group.

Achebe uses the speech of such minor figures, their Pidgin English and colorful use of proverbs and parables, to indicate that the African past has survived into the present. In general, however, the characterization of individuals has less significance for him than the depiction of the movement of society as a whole. More than any of the others, Beatrice gains an inner life of her own in Anthills of the Savannah. She is a multifaceted figure, at once brilliant, perceptive, sensual, and charitable. The social critic in Ikem outweighs the poet in his personality, and Chris at times seems only a voice. The main characters of the novel serve primarily as narrators of an episode of political intrigue from the epic of a modern African society. Much like Achebe’s own, this society is caught up in the struggle to come to grips with its history and its position in the modern world. The epic appears to have no end in sight, and, like the writer Ikem, Achebe has no “prescriptions” to offer, only “headaches.”

Literary Heritage
In line with many African cultures, Nigeria boasts a rich storytelling tradition rooted in oral history. This oral tradition has enabled generations to enjoy African literature despite widespread illiteracy. Folktales, legends, poetry, myths, and proverbs have been preserved in the collective memory and shared through performances or simple recitations. Similar to other cultures, African myths explain natural phenomena, narrate creation stories, and depict the actions of gods. Conversely, legends typically recount human deeds and often honor heroes. The goal of oral literature is not only to entertain but also to educate and pay tribute.

This robust oral tradition significantly influenced twentieth-century Nigerian authors like Amos Tutuola, Chinua Achebe, and Nobel laureate Wole Soyinka. Achebe, for instance, writes traditional novels in a unique style that draws heavily from his Nigerian heritage. In her book Long Drums and Cannons: Nigerian Dramatists and Novelists, Margaret Laurence noted that starting in the 1950s, Nigeria saw ‘‘the flourishing of a new literature which has drawn sustenance both from the traditional oral literature and from the present and rapidly changing society.’’

Political Instability
Growing up in Nigeria, Achebe witnessed firsthand the disruptive effects of social upheaval and political instability on society. Born during Nigeria's colonial era, a time marked by intense conflict and sociopolitical transformation, Achebe experienced the subsequent period of nationalist protest. After Nigeria gained independence in 1960, the remnants of colonialism lingered, including borders and newly established political ideas and structures.

After leaving his role at the Nigerian Broadcasting Company in 1966, Achebe became the Biafran Minister of Information. (This experience likely inspired his creation of Chris, the Commissioner of Information in Anthills of the Savannah.) The Republic of Biafra was a short-lived Ibo state formed after secession. The Ibo people decided to establish their own state following the massacre of ten thousand to thirty thousand of their people by the Islamic Hausa and Fulani ethnic groups. Foreseeing further violence, the Republic of Biafra declared its independence in 1967. Sadly, this declaration was not accepted, leading to a civil war that lasted until 1970, when Biafra surrendered. A wartime food shortage resulted in nearly a million deaths.

When Anthills of the Savannah was published, political unrest still plagued Nigeria. In August 1985, a military coup, spurred by growing public discontent, overthrew the existing authoritarian military regime. The new leader assumed the presidency and banned members of certain previous regimes from political participation for ten years. A few years later, tentative steps toward civilian governance began.

The Role of Women
Long before Europeans arrived during the colonial era, Achebe's native Nigeria was predominantly a male-centric society. Ikem explains to Beatrice that their culture initially viewed women as inferior and unworthy of respect, only to later place them on a pedestal where they could be admired for their beauty but remained insignificant in matters of consequence. Similarly, while the worship of goddesses played a significant role in the spiritual life of villages, it had little influence on decisions about power dynamics. The colonial period exacerbated gender inequality by offering educational opportunities to African men, while African women were trained in practical skills for domestic roles. Anthills of the Savannah, published in 1987, emerged at a time when women globally had made significant progress in asserting their importance and value in society.

Oral Tradition
Despite its central importance in African cultures, the oral tradition faces threats from the widespread use of printed media, radio, and television, which risk making this crucial tradition obsolete. With Anthills of the Savannah, Achebe presents a narrative of the people, told by the people, through multiple perspectives, underscoring the pivotal role of the storyteller in African society. This message is conveyed through various voices, from the village elder of Abazon to the scholarly Ikem. Achebe bridges the gap between the oral tradition and the printed word, illustrating that both can coexist and contribute meaningfully to modern African society.

Point of ViewAnthills of the Savannah offers a comprehensive perspective on the novel's events by incorporating multiple viewpoints. Achebe allows readers to understand the situation through the perspectives of Ikem, Chris, and Beatrice, as well as occasionally from a third-person, omniscient narrator. This narrative technique empowers readers to form their own judgments rather than depending on a single character or narrator to describe people and events. It also helps Achebe preserve an aspect of his African literary heritage that emphasizes the community over the individual.

Setting
The story unfolds in the fictional West African country of Kangan, whose borders were arbitrarily drawn by British colonialists. Some critics argue that Kangan resembles Achebe's native Nigeria, while others believe it mirrors Idi Amin's Uganda. Regardless, Kangan represents a modern African nation grappling with postcolonial instability. Despite its contemporary setting, traditional elements persist, reflecting a sense of continuity within the community. Tradition serves as a vital source of security, fostering a sense of unity among the people.

The setting also grants readers access to the inner workings of the government headquarters—a privilege not extended to Kangan's citizens. While the public relies on gossip and the media to stay informed about governmental affairs, readers gain an insider's view of how the regime operates, evolves, and how various forces either collaborate or clash within the unstable military regime.

Language
Much of the dialogue among Kangan's ordinary citizens is written in Pidgin English. This dialect's unique grammar and unfamiliar vocabulary may pose challenges for Western readers, but it enhances the novel's realism. Additionally, a character's speech reveals their education level or social status. Chris, Beatrice, and Ikem are relatable characters because they can communicate with common people in Pidgin English and with influential political figures in British English. Unlike Sam, who distances himself from ordinary citizens, Chris, Beatrice, and Ikem frequently switch from British English to Pidgin to engage meaningfully with the populace.

Blending of Old and New
Achebe is often commended for his adept integration of folklore, myth, proverbs, and customs with contemporary Western political ideologies and Christian beliefs. By juxtaposing these two approaches, Achebe underscores his belief in the power of the past to mitigate the excesses and confusion of the present.

Similarly, Achebe was the pioneering Nigerian author who utilized novelistic conventions to convey African storytelling. Fully cognizant of Africa's rich oral tradition, Achebe crafted a way to authentically depict Africa in a manner that an international readership could grasp. Anthills of the Savannah was initially penned in English, and by embracing a format familiar to English-speaking readers, he rendered African narratives accessible without sacrificing the essence of his cultural heritage. Concurrently, Nigerians can appreciate his work since English is their official language.

Several critics have observed that the plot of this novel is far from straightforward. The narrative is enriched by varying accounts from the "witnesses," disruptions of chronological order, and the integration of myths, legends, and other stories. These elements collectively give the book a recursive quality, much like a poem. One critic, Kanaganayakam, identifies a "process of subversion" within the narrative. If this is the case, we must consider Achebe's reasons for employing such a technique. One likely purpose is to illustrate the confusion in the characters' lives by challenging the reader's expectation of clarity. However, most questions regarding the events and the motivations behind their distortion are eventually answered. Innes posits that the novel explores various forms of storytelling, addressing key questions such as: (1) "Whose story is of significance?" (2) "How should the story be told—in what language, in what form, and for what audience?" and (3) "For what purpose are stories to be told?" She highlights Beatrice's accusation that the three main protagonists, Ikem, Chris, and Sam, are merely narrating stories to each other. Yet, as the novel advances, more stories are shared with a wider range of characters. This mosaic of narratives and dialects underscores Achebe's argument against the isolation of the elite and emphasizes the necessity for politicians to stay connected to their people and for communities to understand each other.
An interviewer extends this perspective, viewing Anthills of the Savannah (1987) as a synthesis and culmination of all of Achebe's previous works (Jussawalla). Achebe's first novel primarily deals with the clash between a more traditional Igbo culture and British colonialism. As he progresses historically, he addresses the inevitable conflicts that leaders, particularly writers, must confront. Rather than abandoning any techniques, Achebe seems to incorporate and build upon them. Despite Innes' argument that Achebe abandons the European romantic novel after A Man of the People, it appears that his earlier book doesn't entirely fit that mold, even if it employs some of its elements. Similarly, Anthills of the Savannah also includes these elements. The actions, stories, and interactions in these books always seem to be part of a larger, unknown context, with each tradition, legend, story, or proverb playing a role.
Achebe's use of language and his comments on it elsewhere are particularly notable. In an interview with Jussawalla, he mentions that a generation of bright Nigerians competing fiercely for academic scholarships never gets to engage with lowbrow literature or speak colloquially. He argues that this is severely damaging both to their identities and their ability to communicate in a fully human way. Ironically, they suffer from a continuation of the isolation from self and society that colonialism caused. Achebe writes this book, in part, to combat that isolation.

The political turmoil depicted in the earlier novel A Man of the People (1966) has intensified by the time this story unfolds. Many of the same social and political issues are explored here but with greater breadth and depth. Once again, the nation is under the rule of a corrupt and inept regime, now a military one. A major social injustice highlighted this time is the neglect of not only the surrounding poor communities but also the starving population in Abazon, the fictional Biafra. (One reason Achebe hasn't written a novel in nearly two decades is his involvement in the failed Biafran independence struggle.) The novel vividly portrays the inability of educated, sensitive individuals to govern effectively and the stark disparity in living conditions between the educated and the illiterate. As Larry Diamond observes:

Anthills addresses the corruption, irresponsibility, and repression of military governance just as A Man of the People critiqued the failure of civilian politics. It exposes, denounces, and ridicules through a narrative rich with recognizable details, familiar or eerily anticipated events, and vivid, highly believable characters.

As in previous novels, the plight of sensitive characters who are both empowered and uprooted by British-style educations is examined. In this book, their self-absorption and failures are put to an even greater test. Tyranny has taken root, partly due to their neglect. The journalist character, Ikem Osodi, identifies the issue as "the failure of [Nigeria's] rulers to establish vital inner links with the poor and dispossessed of this country, with the bruised heart that throbs painfully at the core of the nation's being."

The novel aims to heal this rift, though it doesn't quite achieve it. Diamond and others note that it suggests hope for renewal, not just a satirical critique of corruption and social and political injustice. Much of this hope is embodied in the female characters: They take charge after their men have been killed, conducting a naming ceremony for Ikem's posthumous baby daughter by Elewa, a less educated woman who represents the connection to the people Ikem spoke of. This ending starkly contrasts the revenge murder that concludes A Man of the People. Whether this difference indicates that Achebe is becoming more hopeful remains uncertain, especially considering the ongoing tyranny in Nigeria, where prominent writers and environmentalists have been executed.

• 1787: The United States secures its independence from Great Britain. Since then, politics has served as a platform for debates among various ethnic and religious groups. Initially, there was limited diversity in political office, but this has gradually improved over time.

1960: Nigeria gains its independence from Great Britain. Since then, politics has been marked by competition and distrust between different ethnic and religious groups.

1787: The United States Constitution is ratified and has remained in effect since then. The American government system includes the election of a president for a four-year term and representatives to Congress, which consists of the House of Representatives and the Senate. The United States also has a Supreme Court.

1978: Nigeria ratifies its first constitution, which is later discarded in 1983. A new constitution is introduced in 1989, but in 1993, the 1978 version is reinstated. Nigeria's government system includes the election of a president for a four-year term and a Supreme Court. The National Assembly, comprising a House of Representatives and a Senate, is dissolved following the 1993 coup.

1704: The United States sees the publication of its first continuous newspaper, the Boston News-Letter. The First Amendment, ratified in 1791, includes protections for freedom of the press. Today, approximately sixty-three million copies of various newspapers are circulated daily.

1830s: Nigeria establishes its first newspaper. Currently, the federal government maintains an interest in several major newspapers, although censorship is rare. By the 1990s, over twenty English-language daily newspapers are in circulation.

By the time this novel was published, numerous other African authors, including many Nigerians, had already released their works. Consequently, there is a broader array of contemporary African influences compared to previous novels. Innes observes that there are "sometimes explicit more often implicit literary models" like Christopher Okigbo, Ngugi wa Thiong'o, Wole Soyinka, Nurruddin Farah, Sembene Ousman, Leopold Sedar Senghor, and David Diop (whose poem "Africa" introduces Chapter 10). Additionally, "younger writers such as Chinweizu and Festus Iyayi" are noted. The Zulu poems of Mazizi Kunene are referenced on the final page. Humorous sections of the book parody Saul Bellow's Henderson the Rain King, and Ikem reflects on Graham Greene's depiction of conflicted or corrupt priests despite being a Catholic himself, also citing Whitman's "Song of Myself" as an example of embracing contradictions.

Similar to earlier novels, the text is rich with Igbo proverbs, stories, and legends, along with Biblical references. The inclusion of Muslim rituals in the naming ceremony at the end further enhances the sense of inclusivity of influences and traditions, suggesting that all major literary and religious traditions hold significant value.

Girls at War and Other Stories (1972) is Achebe's sole other work of fiction that addresses the chaos of the civil wars that erupted after British rule. The title story portrays the decline of a man's values and, according to the narrator, a woman's ambitions and character due to the wartime environment. It highlights the "parties and frivolities to which his friends clung like drowning men." The protagonist is taken aback when Gladys uses the term "shell" to refer to having sex and is troubled by her overwhelming gratitude for the food he provides, especially as their brief romance seems to be ending. However, at the story's conclusion, when their car is shelled, it is Gladys—whom he has deemed superficial—who sacrifices her life to save an injured soldier, while the narrator takes cover.

A Man of the People has been mentioned as a related work throughout this discussion, illustrating the plight of a civilian government that is as corrupt as the military regime that replaces it.

Sources
Ascherson, Neal. ‘‘Betrayal,’’ in New York Review of Books, Vol. 35, No. 3, March 3, 1988, pp. 3-4, 6.

Gordimer, Nadine. ‘‘A Tyranny of Clowns,’’ in New York Times Book Review, February 21, 1988, p. 1.

Kortenaar, Neil ten. ‘‘Only Connect: Anthills of the Savannah and Achebe's Trouble with Nigeria,’’ in Research in African Literatures, Vol. 24, No. 3, Fall 1993, pp. 59-73.

Laurence, Margaret. Long Drums and Cannons: Nigerian Dramatists and Novelists. Praeger, 1968.

Okri, Ben. Review of Anthills of the Savannah, in London Observer, September 20, 1987.

Ravenscroft, A. ‘‘Recent Fiction from Africa: Chinua Achebe's Anthills of the Savannah—A Note,’’ in Literary Criterion, Vol. 23, Nos. 1-2, 1988, pp. 172-75.

Swann, Joseph. ‘‘From Things Fall Apart to Anthills of the Savannah: The Changing Face of History in Achebe's Novels,’’ in Crisis and Creativity in the New Literature in English, edited by Geoffrey V. Davis and Hena Maes-Jelinek. Rodopi, 1990, pp. 191-203.

Further Reading
Arua, Arua E. and Olusegun Oladipo. ‘‘Two Perspectives on Chinua Achebe's Anthills of the Savannah,’’ in Review of English and Literature Studies, 1989. Two critics from Ibadan discuss their individual interpretations of Anthills of the Savannah.

Gikandi, Simon. Reading Chinua Achebe: Language and Ideology in Fiction. James Currey, 1991. This book by Gikandi thoroughly examines the role of language and the storyteller in contemporary Africa as depicted in Achebe's works.

Holst Petersen, Kirsten, and Anna Rutherford, eds. Chinua Achebe: A Celebration. Heinemann, 1991. This volume, published by Achebe's original British publisher, delves into his life and literary contributions, including commentary on his more recent works up to 1991.

Moyers, Bill. ‘‘Chinua Achebe,’’ in Bill Moyers: A World of Ideas. Doubleday, 1989, pp. 333-44. In this chapter, Moyers shares his interview with Chinua Achebe.