Amílcar Lopes Cabral was born in 1924 in Bafatá, Guinea-Bissau, to Cabo Verdean parents,
trained as an agronomist in Lisbon, and became the principal architect of the Partido
Africano para a Independência da Guiné e Cabo Verde (PAIGC), one of the most
internationally celebrated anticolonial liberation movements of the twentieth century. His
assassination in Conakry on 20 January 1973, months before Guinea-Bissau’s unilateral
declaration of independence, transformed him into a martyr-founder of singular moral
authority. In both Guinea-Bissau and Cabo Verde, Cabral was consecrated as “Founder of
the Nationality”: his effigy appeared on banknotes and coins, his birthday and the date of
his assassination were enshrined as national holidays, and his name was attached to youth
organizations, training institutes, and public institutions (Cardina and Rodrigues, 2022, pp.
25–26). The early post-independence years confirmed and actively deepened this status,
though not without a degree of political management that would have consequences later.
The states that inherited this legacy were formed under tight international constraints.
Like most polities born of decolonisation, they entered a world partitioned between rival
great powers, in which the solidarities and imaginaries of the so-called “Third World”
supplied both resources and limits for nation-building. Frederick Cooper’s characterisation
of the African state that emerged from this conjuncture is apposite: “the post-colonial
gatekeeper state, lacking the external coercive capacity of its predecessor, was a
vulnerable state, not a strong one” (Cooper, 2002, p. 5). State formation in Guinea-Bissau
and Cabo Verde unfolded within precisely these constraints, and the symbolic economy
built around Cabral’s memory became one of the few political resources the new states
fully controlled.
The PAIGC deployed Cabral’s image with deliberate intent: to legitimize the new
(binational) State, to construct a narrative of revolutionary continuity, and to conceal the
significant tensions that independence had not resolved, namely those between Cabo
Verdean and Guinean factions, between the party leadership and the population, and
between the ideals of the liberation struggle and the realities of governance (e.g. Chabal,
1983a, 1986; Lopes, 1987; Forrest, 1987; Roque, 2016). These tensions were rooted in a
structural asymmetry that preceded independence by decades. Under Portuguese colonial
rule, a chronic shortage of trained personnel had led the administration to rely heavily on
Cabo Verdeans to staff its bureaucracy in Guinea-Bissau: by 1936, half of all mid-level
functionaries and around seventy percent of civil servants were Cabo Verdean (Forrest,
2003, p. 169). For sectors of the Bissau-Guinean society, Cabo Verdean authority was
therefore not a novelty introduced by the liberation struggle but a continuation, in a
different political register, of a familiar colonial arrangement. The PAIGC’s leadership,
largely drawn from Cabo Verdean milieux whose educational formation and social networks
set them apart from the largely rural, ethnically diverse Guinean population, inherited this
association rather than transcended it (Chabal, 1983b, pp. 202–203; Coutinho, 2017, pp.
27, 54-61, 91-3; Forrest, 1987, pp. 100–101; Rudebeck, 1974, pp. 14, 40-1, 115). Little
of this was visible from outside. During the liberation war and the first years of
independence, Guinea-Bissau attracted considerable international attention and sympathy,
the product of a successful anticolonial campaign and of widely admired social and political
experiments in which international actors themselves took part. Teresa Almeida Cravo
(2023) describes a promising proto-state, and a new country received by the international
community with confidence and optimism, representations far removed from the “failed