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Opinion The Dahomey of ‘The Woman King’ is no feminist utopia

Columnist|
September 23, 2022 at 2:06 p.m. EDT
Viola Davis in “The Woman King.” (Sony Pictures via AP)

“The Woman King” is already a triumph in many ways. A work of historical fiction about the female warriors of the West African Kingdom of Dahomey, the film opened at No. 1 at the box office last weekend. It is such a rare treat to see dark-skinned Black women in big roles, much less in an action film where they beat the crap out of men, both White and Black.

WARNING: SPOILERS AHEAD!

Portraying Dahomey accurately is complicated. It is absolutely a fact that the kingdom was an aggressive participant in the transatlantic slave trade. This cannot be glossed over.

At the same time, as writer Isaac Samuel points out, it’s important to remember that Dahomey’s story has been written by the victors, so to speak. “European observers often assumed that their central concerns in visiting the kingdom, such as slave trade and its abolition, as well as the development of ‘legitimate commerce,’ were equally the central concerns of the monarchy,” Samuel writes. “But this was often not the case, as traditional Dahomean accounts of its history seemed more concerned with its independence from its overlords.”

In that vein, the controversy that has quickly erupted around whether “The Woman King” glorifies African slave traders is history repeating itself. Tragically, a broad lack of knowledge about African and Black histories is the very thing that has caused so many commentators to place oversize emphasis on how the complexities of slavery are depicted in “The Woman King.” That’s to place a burden on the film that countless male-directed action films about, say, the Roman or British empires have never had to bear.

And more important, it’s to miss all that “The Woman King” has to say about the world we live in today. As a work of cinematic art, the film deserves to have its central concerns — questions about violence, spirituality and liberation for women in a patriarchal world — examined.

So does “The Woman King” deliver on its own terms?

Though it’s called “The Woman King” — for Nanisca, the general of the Agojie fighters (played by Viola Davis) — the central figure of the film actually is Nawi (Thuso Mbedu). She’s the one who takes the classic heroine’s journey of temptation and transformation and helps us learn about Agojie culture and norms.

Nawi is an orphan who, after fighting to escape the fate of an arranged marriage, goes on to excel in training and earn the respect of the senior Agojie women. She withstands the allure of the Europeanized world that she experiences through a romance with a half-Portuguese, half-Dahomey slave trader who wants her to come away with him. She narrowly escapes being taken as a slave herself to the new world, her saving grace being the fact that Nanisca is willing to defy the Dahomey King Ghezo and raze a slave-trading post to save her.

While it is shown to be vibrant and beautiful, Dahomey is no feminist utopia. Make no mistake: Women do not hold all the cards of power. The Agojie warriors exist within a patriarchal system, and basically all the men we meet are willing to traffic women and girls and strip them of agency.

Nawi’s father tries to marry her off to an abusive and controlling rich man, then discards her when she fights back. King Ghezo (played so well by John Boyega) agrees to give Agojie members to the aggressive Oyo tribe as tribute. At one point we see Santo Ferreira (Hero Fiennes Tiffin), a Portuguese slave trader, fondling one of the captured Agojie women’s breasts. Even the most sympathetic male character, the slave trader Malik who romantically desires Nawi, naively seeks to symbolically disempower Nawi. In one telling scene, he offers her European clothes — clothing that we know she will not be able to run or fight in. And as long as Dahomey is under threat of invasion from other empires, its women risk being taken prisoner and sold as slaves.

Feminine jealousy and competition for male affection further complicate the idea of women’s empowerment in “The Woman King.” While Nanisca has earned respect as a general, she faces competition for influence from Shante, the king’s favorite wife. The implication is that beauty and allure, not brawn and physical skill, are the weapons women need to survive in the king’s palace.

Those who understand the orisha pantheon will catch the obvious references to Yoruba female deities. Shante represents Oshun, the female orisha of beauty and sexuality; Nanisca is Oya, the female orisha of war and violent passion. Both are favorites of the handsome Shango, the male orisha of thunder and lightning. These references are most clear in their costuming — Shante wears yellow and gold, and in one scene is adorned by peacock feathers, which symbolize Oshun. Nanisca wears the multicolored smock of the Agojie, but she also is shown in deep purples and burgundy; all are traditional colors of Oya. In some renderings of the mythology, Oshun is depressed that Shango doesn’t seem to love her as deeply as he does Oya, whom he respects for being able to fight alongside him in battle.

At the end of the film, Nanisca is elevated to Woman King, sure — but we are left to wonder if the insecure Shante could still sabotage her.

We see this black-and-white, either-or tension play out today, of course — women who chose security and joy in the form of marriage to men and homemaking can get pitted against independent, single women who face the world’s arrows on their own. While “The Woman King” tries to be sympathetic to Shante’s plight, it clearly thinks Nanisca and the Agojie — the family-less warriors — are more powerful.

But are they, really?

Sure, the amazing fight scenes make us marvel at the strength and bravery of the Agojie. But the “bloodiest bitches in Africa,” as they described in the movie, are still soldiers whose bodies are expendable and who act in service to King and empire. Outside the Agojie, the bodies of Dahomey women are also expendable commodities — to families, fathers, husbands and, in the extreme, rapists. Are these choices true freedom for women?

I tend not to think so. I get why the revenge of the last major fight scene, in which Nanisca kills her Oyo rapist, and another of the Agojie beats a White slave trader to death, feels temporarily satisfying. But I say temporarily because, here in the 21st century, we all know that we haven’t destroyed the systems of patriarchy or the legacies of the slave trade … yet. But they did at least live to fight another day.

They also became their full selves: Nanisca as Woman King, Nawi as a fully realized Agojie warrior. And this is ultimately the lesson from “The Woman King” for Black women across the diaspora who are trapped between racism and sexism: Find your tribe, find your people. The ones who are willing to fight for you, braid your hair for you, run through thorns, burn villages and consult the spirits for you. And in turn do the same for others.

While strength and skill are useful tools for survival, love and community are what we need most to thrive.

Go see “The Woman King.” You won’t regret it!

Global Radar: Documenting the Dahomey warriors

In the spirit of learning more about the real warriors of Dahomey, I recommend this amazing article by my colleague Danielle Paquette from last year. As mentioned above, there is little record of the Dahomey warriors outside of what European observers have written. When the French captured what is now southern Benin in 1894, they disbanded the all-female force and wiped their stories from school curriculums.

According to Paquette’s report, a team of researchers at the African School of Economics is looking to track down descendants of the female fighters for a book. Some of the grandchildren of the warriors shared memories of their grandmothers with Paquette, including this memory about a warrior named Adana: “[She] yearned for the battlefield. Housework was not for her, she told her grandchildren. She’d rather be ambushing an enemy. Tussling with her bare hands, her preferred weapons. The musket took too long to load.”

Ha! Speaking of guns, I can’t help but think of this scene featuring Okoye, a female Dora Milaje warrior, from the Marvel film “Black Panther.”

Home Front: The HBCU vs. PWI wars flare up

As someone who went to a predominantly White institution (PWI) for college, I understand the need for Black and other non-White students to find community — whether through cultural clubs, performance groups or Greek organizations. Getting involved in the Black and African communities at Northwestern University (Go, Wildcats!) helped me succeed there. But for as long as I can remember, there has been debate about how Black people choose to navigate the difficulties of being at a PWI.

This week, a University of Southern California student named Princess Isis Lang posted a video of the majorette team — an element of Historically Black College and University (HBCU) culture — that she created at USC. It sent Black Twitter into a buzz.

Of course, plenty of people celebrated her for creating the team.

But, there were Black critics who said: Why didn’t she just attend an HBCU if she wanted to be on a majorette team? Or who argued that not all elements of Black culture should be offered for the White gaze.

Interesting.

In the spirit of Black sisterhood, love and surviving these times, I believe Black students should be encouraged to create communities for themselves no matter where they are. And on top of that, they don’t have to abandon their extracurricular passions. I’m reminded of Fisk University, which became the first HBCU to offer an intercollegiate women’s gymnastics program just a few weeks ago:

No one told the Fisk gymnasts that they should just go to a PWI if they want to do gymnastics. From interviews, it’s clear that the founding members of the Fisk gymnastics program were motivated by a desire to practice the sport they loved while also getting the benefits of an HBCU education.

Whether it’s a dance team at a PWI, or a gymnastics program at an HBCU, I am here for young Black women creating the space for community and personal growth.

Fun Zone: This raccoon is racking up the views

This raccoon opening a trash-bin door has been all over my Instagram feed. It is surely a visual metaphor for the ages: Sliding into the group chat after being silent for months. Reentering the minefield of dating app hell. Or me, checking the dumpster fire that is Twitter after the latest internet outrage.

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