Invoking Biko in MOS: Black Consciousness as potential liberatory praxis for confronting organizational and workplace anti-Black racism

Abstract

This conceptual paper addresses the critical issue of anti-Black racism within organizations and aims to spark a discussion on action-oriented Black liberation beyond the workplace. Drawing inspiration from African anticolonial thought, particularly Steve Biko’s Black Consciousness (BC) political framework, we propose a praxis to tackle anti-Black racial violence at societal, organizational, and interpersonal levels in Southern Africa and beyond. Our goal is to invigorate scholarly engagement with Black liberation in Management and Organization Studies (MOS). By leveraging the Black Consciousness Movement (BCM), we seek to encourage decolonization and enrich management knowledge systems by highlighting diverse sources that contribute to organizational knowledge. We (re)imagine political means to confront anti-Black racism and foster Black liberation in (post)colonial workspaces, contributing to the enrichment of MOS, a field that has been relatively apolitical and silent on anti-Black racism and the lived experiences of marginalized Black people. We propose BC-inspired political praxis that includes initiatives at the societal (macro), organizational (meso), and interpersonal/personal (micro) levels, involving employees as insider activists and Black scholar-activists, Black community social activists, and allies as outsider activists working collaboratively to confront anti-Black racism and decolonize organizations and society. We conclude by calling for more theorizing on Black liberation in MOS to develop strategies to resist and dismantle anti-Black racism within academia, organizations and society.

Introduction

Being Black ¹ is a predicament, Sithole (2016) writes. He posited that “the world is not in the favor of Blacks – it asserts the positionality of wanting to exist without Blacks – that is, the posture of the world in its form and content is anti-Black” (p. 5). This sentiment was recently echoed by Management and Organisation Studies (MOS) scholars Mir and Zanoni (2021) who emphasized the pervasive impact of anti-Black racism, which results in the systemic undervaluation and degradation of Black people across multiple domains, reinforcing stark racial disparities.

Anti-Black racism can be understood as purposeful as well as unconscious actions, behaviors and orientations targeting people of African descent, rooted in the historical legacies of slavery, colonialism, apartheid, and white supremist ideologies (Dubow, 2015; Marx, 1967; Phillips and Pon, 2018; Sithole, 2016). According to Carruthers (2018: 26), anti-Black racism refers to a “system of beliefs and practices that attack, erode, and limit the humanity of Black people.” Colonization aimed to dismantle the existence and (positive) consciousness of Africans through intentional social engineering (Asante, 2007; Césaire, 2000; Miller, 1993; Sparrow, 2011; Western, 1984). This enacted racism, which is experienced as a form of violence by marginalized communities and individuals, aimed to sever their metaphysical and material connections to sources of power and autonomy, such as land, culture, spirituality, worldviews, individual and community bodies, as well as from their very identities (Ani, 1994; April, 2021; Chinweizu, 1987; Mudimbe, 1988; Somé Malidoma, 1999).

In the United Nations geoscheme for Africa, six countries constitute Southern Africa, viz., Botswana, Eswatini, Lesotho, Namibia, Zimbabwe, and South Africa. In Namibia and South Africa particularly, despite the end of formal settler colonialism and apartheid, anti-Black racism legacies persist in overt and hidden forms in the current social-and work lives of the majority of Black communities and their economic inclusion (Mbembe, 2017; Nkomo, 2020)—in fact, Mpofu-Walsh (2021) warns about our overstretched usage of the term “post-apartheid” because apartheid is still very alive (albeit not legally) and still enacted through the current economic order, centering ideology of whiteness, technology access, spatial entangled separation, and the emotional landscape of Southern African citizens. In fact, during the COVID-19 pandemic, the systemic legacies were further exposed and highlighted through the intensified economic and social hardships experienced by Black people the world over (Gao and Sai, 2021; Melaku and Beeman, 2022). In this paper, the label “Black” is adopted to refer to people of African ethnic descent or those with a darker shade of skin, acknowledging that its meaning can vary depending on the context and its inherent political implications. In South Africa, for instance, “Black” encompasses all people of color: African Black, Colored/Camissa/Creole/mixed heritage, as well as Indian/Asian—our use of the term “Black” in this article, though, refers specifically to African Black, as it is understood in the Southern African context, when referring to that region specifically. Although we use the label to refer to skin color, it is essential to recognize the controversies surrounding its use. Historically, pre-colonial Africans did not identify themselves as “Black”; instead, they perceived themselves as spirit beings undergoing a human experience, transcending physical attributes like skin color. For instance, the Bantu people of Central and Southern Africa referred to themselves as Bantu, signifying their embodiment of “Ntu,” a spiritual essence present in all of creation (Ani, 1994).

MOS scholars have highlighted how the dehumanizing consequences of global anti-Black racism are (re)produced in the “colonial” workplace by coloniality and entrenched white supremacy ideologies (Dar and Ibrahim, 2019; Liu et al., 2021; Myeza and April, 2021; Yancy, 2017). In referring to the “colonial” workplace, we are specifically addressing organizational spaces located in regions with a history of colonialism, where settler colonialism, apartheid, enslavement, and colonial ideologies are intertwined, perpetuating ongoing processes of colonial capital accumulation (Banerjee, 2022; Dar (2019); Dar et al. (2021)). Decolonial scholars emphasize the distinction between colonialism and coloniality. Coloniality refers to the enduring power structures established during colonialism that persist in shaping culture, labor, social relations, and knowledge production even after colonial rule ends (Maldonado-Torres, 2007). In Southern Africa, this concept explains the continued reflection of colonial and apartheid-era economic, social, and racial hierarchies in the present day. Critical MOS scholars argue that coloniality sustains and normalizes historical white supremacy (Liu et al., 2021). In this paper, we adopt Cress-Welsing’s (1991: ii) definition of white supremacy as: “The local and global power system structured and maintained by persons who classify themselves as white, whether consciously or subconsciously determined; this system consists of patterns of perception, logic, symbol formation, thought, speech, action and emotional response, as conducted simultaneously in all areas of people activity (economics, education, entertainment, labor, law, politics, religion, sex, and war).”

Despite the presence of pervasive anti-Black racism in organizations, there are few studies that engage with political imaginations to address anti-Black racism in the MOS field (Baker-Bell, 2020; Bell, 2020; Liu, 2022; Mir and Zanoni, 2021). According to Liu (2022: 2), the global Black Lives Matter movement raises an important question: “Why is it that the world can seemingly grieve the loss of Black lives, but management studies remain ignorantly, obstinately, self-satisfyingly white?” Although there is a slowly growing strand of MOS theorization on emancipation through the awakening social consciousness of marginalized groups (cf. Barros, 2010; McCarthy and Moon, 2018), there is scarcity of scholarly voices in this strand that advocate for political praxis prioritizing Black liberation (Chowdhury, 2021). This observation highlights the failure of MOS to take a decisive stand against the persistent colonial and dehumanizing anti-Black racism within contemporary workspaces.

The lack of attention to anti-Black racism and Black liberation issues reminds one of Nkomo’s (2021) perception that race evokes discomfort and evasion from some MOS scholars. Nkomo’s observation reflects the perception that certain topics in MOS are considered “taboo” (Chrispal et al., 2021; Hudson et al., 2015). According to Hudson et al. (2015), “taboo” topics refer to subjects that are considered off-limits or uncomfortable truths for many MOS scholars—for instance, subjects that address structural whiteness and oppositional consciousness (Yancy, 2017). Additionally, the existence of taboos within the field of MOS on topics such as anti-Black racism and Black liberation can be attributed to the inherent presence of epistemic coloniality in knowledge production, implicating MOS in the perpetuation of coloniality and white supremacy in the global workplace (Alcadipani et al., 2012; Ibarra-Colado, 2006). Consequently, the lack of attention on Black liberation theorization suggests that the MOS field has not significantly contributed to the advancement of human dignity, nor social- and workplace justice, which encompasses the right of all people to thrive and exert self-determination. We align ourselves with scholars who criticize narrow MOS knowledge systems for its limitations in relevance and its tendency to provide simplistic, sanitized, and generalized Euro-American-centric solutions to complex- and contextual problems (Kostera and Wozniak, 2021; Tourish, 2019).

The main objective of this paper is to provoke a political (re)imagination to address anti-Black racism and advance Black liberation in the field of MOS—a field that remains apolitical. We attempt to do so by responding to the call by Nkomo (2011b) to view histories of anticolonial struggle as sources of knowledge in MOS, and we particularly use that knowledge for theorizing Black liberation in organizations and beyond. Theorizing Black liberation in organizations necessarily involves societal (macro), organizational (meso) and personal/interpersonal (micro) political liberatory praxis, suggesting that true liberation within organizations requires systemic change to address not just overt discriminatory practices, but also the more subtle forms of anti-Black racism in society that are (re)produced and embedded in organizational culture and the emotional toll it exacts on Black employees.

The anticolonial struggles, spanning across centuries and continents, have not always been acknowledged as valuable lessons for management and organizing scholarship (Nkomo, 2011b). As a result, they have been systematically excluded and continue to be kept outside of the dominant canon within the field of MOS. To achieve our objective for this paper, we would like to add in Steve Biko’s conception of Black Consciousness (BC) as an anticolonial political framework for consciousness-raising of Black people about their racial oppression, and to encourage solidary in social- and economic justice for colonized Black subjects (Biko, 2004; Hook, 2011).

Steve Biko, born 1946, was a South African anti-apartheid revolutionary leader and activist who was assassinated in 1977 by the anti-Black racist and murderous South African apartheid regime for his advocacy for Black liberation. Before his assassination at the age of 30, Biko became a powerful voice against apartheid, and he together with other activists found and spearheaded the Black Consciousness Movement (BCM) that emerged as a transformative movement in the apartheid-era South Africa during the late 1960s and 1970s within the South African Students’ Organisation (SASO). The BCM’s genesis was rooted in the frustration with the pacifist approach of older anti-apartheid entities and the banishment of key African National Congress (ANC) and Pan Africanist Congress (PAC) leaders (Mngxitama et al., 2008). The BCM aimed to awaken a sense of identity, self-worth, and self-reliance among, initially, the black South African population, advocating for psychological and physical liberation from the chains of white supremacy and institutionalized racism. It sought to combat the internalization of inferiority inflicted by apartheid by fostering a unified Black identity, encompassing Black Africans, Coloreds/Camissa/Creole/mixed heritage, and Indians/Asians. The political and social context of the time was characterized by stringent racial segregation, economic disenfranchisement, and brutal political and militarized repression of Black Southern Africans. Biko’s leadership in the BCM was not just a call to political action but a profound psychological emancipation from colonial mindsets and a denial of their authority over African thinking and ways of being, emphasizing the power of self-definition and the rejection of white-imposed identities, values and ways of being.

Biko’s intellectual foundations were deeply influenced by a confluence of African nationalism, such as the writings of Frantz Fanon, and the global Black Power movement. Fanon’s works provided a critical examination of the psychological effects of colonialism and argued for a violent uprising as a means of achieving decolonization, although Biko adapted Fanon’s ideas toward emphasizing non-violent protest and the psychological liberation of Black people within the South African context. Additionally, the Black Power movement in the United States, advocating for racial pride, economic empowerment, and the creation of political and cultural institutions, also influenced Biko (Biko, 1978). Through the amalgamation of these influences, Biko and the Black Consciousness Movement sought to forge a new sense of identity and solidarity among Black Africans in all of Southern Africa, challenging the legitimacy of colonially-instituted regimes and striving for self-determination and equality for marginalized Africans. After his death, Biko continues to be a symbol of martyrdom and a beacon for continued striving against injustice.

We translate BC thinking into the realm of MOS by (re)imagining BC as a potential liberatory praxis to confront persistent anti-Black racism within organizations and beyond. We propose BC-inspired multi-political initiatives that could address anti-Black racism and advance Black liberation in organizations and broader society. These political initiatives include collaborative advocacy and activism-inspired BC thought among insider activists (employees) and outsider activists (Black MOS scholar-activists, white and non-Black POC allies, social movements and anti-colonial/decolonial activists) to address anti-Black racism at societal (macro), organizational (meso) and interpersonal (micro) levels.

This article aims to amplify the contemporary voices emerging from African anticolonial movements in MOS (cf. Nkomo, 2011b; Seyama-Mokhaneli, 2024; Sihela, 2022), with a particular focus on the Black Consciousness Movement (BCM), to enrich the discourse within the field of MOS regarding consciousness-raising and the liberation of colonized and oppressed subjects (Chowdhury, 2021; Gwekwerere, 2020; McCarthy and Moon, 2018; Prasad, 2016). We also purposefully highlight the profound influence of anticolonial struggles and colonial experiences on MOS knowledge. This contribution aligns with broader efforts to decolonize MOS knowledge production and enhance the field’s relevance (cf. Banerjee, 2022; Couto et al., 2021; Girei, 2017; Ruggunan, 2016). Importantly, drawing from the BCM, as a source of knowledge, challenges the assumption that organizational and management knowledge exclusively originates from a singular cultural- or regional perspective (Prasad, 2016). By embracing diverse epistemologies, we broaden the horizon of MOS research, allowing for a more comprehensive understanding of the complexities inherent in organizational practices and experiences.

The article is organized as follows: The first section provides an overview of anti-Black racism in the Southern African region. It delves into the theoretical understanding of anti-Black racism in organizations. The section then proceeds to elaborate on the core principles and foundations of BC as liberatory praxis. Moving on to the second part of the paper, attention is given to the potential implications of BC within the field of MOS. The discussion expands on the (im)possibility of transposing BC into the MOS discourse on race and racism, specifically its potential as liberatory praxis to addressing the persistent anti-Black racial violence that exist across various levels (the societal, organizational, and interpersonal). In conclusion, the paper calls for more Black liberation theorization within MOS.

Understanding anti-Black racism in the Southern African region

Anti-Black racism in the Southern African region, both during and after the colonial period, finds support and promotion through the framework of white supremacist ideologies, rooted in the historical contexts of settler colonialism and apartheid—all of which served the purpose of accumulating capital (Magubane, 1996; Mbembe, 2017). Baker (1978: 321) points out that the group in control of the economic structure “makes the allocative decisions that determine the distribution of power, privilege, and resources within society.” In addition to white affirmative action, as well as financial- and land ownership exclusion of Black people, enacted (through laws) by minority governments in South Africa, Namibia and Zimbabwe, there were significant actors in the perpetuation of skewed economic wealth which included private sector corporations, like Sanlam in Southern Africa—a financial services company (which started as an insurance company) specifically set up to reflect the political, economic and social empowerment of Afrikaner whites (Verhoef, 2018), and colonialists, like Cecil John Rhodes who went on to establish the mining companies, De Beers and Gold Fields. Many of the resource-based corporations, most of them still in existence today, were built on colonial acts that involved the seizure of land, exploitation of valuable resources, such as diamonds and gold, and profiting from acts of genocide, apartheid, community displacement and ethnic fragmentation, wage inequality, and the forced labor of enslaved people, including women and children (Magubane, 1996; Olusoga and Erichsen, 2010; Sarkin, 2011). For instance, some private sector organizations in Namibia, established by German settler colonial capitalists, have a disreputable colonial past that includes taking part in and profiting from the Herero-Nama genocide of 1904–1908, utilizing forced labor from concentration camps established during the genocide (Olusoga and Erichsen, 2010; Sarkin, 2011). To date, many of these organizations have not fully acknowledged nor paid economic reparations for their actions. Additionally, some of the existing corporations in the Southern African region and backed-up by the apartheid state and assisted by several global corporations based mainly in Europe and North America (USA and Canada), were built to further white economic interests (Van Vuuren, 2018; Wilkins and Strydom, 2012). Some of these organizations (e.g. Volkskas Bank that later became part of the ABSA Group, Nasionale Pers that later became known as Naspers, Voorbrand Tobacco which later became The Rembrandt Group, De Beers known as Debswana in Botswana and NamDeb in Namibia, amongst others) are still in existence and continue to refuse to show contrition for profiting from previous and current injustices (Canham and Williams, 2017; Dale, 2001; Declercq, 2016; Naqvi, 1984; O’Malley, n.d; Ramphele, 2008), given the coloniality prevalent in the region.

Fanon (1967) reminded us that in colonial and postcolonial societies such as in Southern Africa, economic exploitation and racial oppression are deeply intertwined. The wealth and privilege enjoyed by the white minority are not merely coincidental but are directly linked to the structures of colonial domination. Fanon’s view heralded in what was later termed “racial capitalism”—the idea that racism and capital exploitation are mutually constitutive, as explained by Robinson (1983). As Mir and Toor (2024: 2) note, for Robinson, “capitalist systems across the world have built their wealth through imperialism, slavery, colonization, and the subordination of certain – typically racialized – sections of their population and . . . did not disappear . . . with the formal end of the era of modern colonialism.”

In our discussion of racial capitalism, it is crucial to clarify the term’s specific connotations within the Southern African context. The term “racial capitalism” was first used by South African anti-apartheid intellectuals and activists to describe the intrinsic linkage between economic inequality and racial oppression (Go, 2021). Robinson later popularized the term in their seminal work “Black Marxism,” broadening its application to encompass various global socio-economic dynamics. While Robinson’s broader application of racial capitalism argues that all capitalism inherently produces and sustains racial inequalities, it is important to highlight specifically how these dynamics manifested in Southern Africa. As Clarno and Vally (2023) note, Southern African radicals developed a conjunctural analysis of racial capitalism, paying close attention to both time and space. These anti-apartheid activists and theorists in Southern Africa never argued that all capitalism is racial, but rather, that capitalism assumes a racial guise under specific conditions. Thus, in Southern Africa, particularly during apartheid, racial capitalism referred to the creation and maintenance of a racially stratified economy that benefited the white minority at the expense of the Black majority. Magubane (1996) notes that there is a connection between capitalist exploitation and racism, but also emphasized that contemporary racial capitalism and racism are historical constructs that are rooted in and supported by colonial violence, settler colonialism, apartheid, and imperialism. Anti-apartheid activists highlighted how economic exploitation and racial subjugation were inherently linked, with apartheid policies systematically entrenching racial disparities. The exploitation of Black labor, disenfranchisement of Black communities, and institutionalized segregation were key mechanisms of this system. These apartheid-era economic policies and their enduring legacies illustrates how racial capitalism has shaped and continues to influence socio-economic realities in the Southern African region.

In colonial and (post)colonial Southern Africa, racial capitalism had, and continues to have, a colonial dimension (Magubane, 1996). Thus, racial capitalism in this region can be appropriately labeled what Koshy et al. (2022) termed “colonial racial capitalism,” characterized as intertwined colonial histories, racial hierarchies, and capitalist economic systems operating to shape social, political, and economic structures that continue to exploit, disposes, and marginalize Black communities (Koshy et al., 2022; Robinson, 1983).

The concept of colonial racial capitalism provides a comprehensive framework to understand the persistence of anti-Black racism in the predominantly Black majority populations of (post)colonial Southern Africa. It recognizes that colonialists and apartheid regimes established these systems, and it continues to be upheld by private sector organizations and institutions today who function to exert and maintain historic white economic power/dominance through maintaining white ownership and control of the private sector in order to continue the economic dispossession and disfranchising of the Black majority (Mpofu-Walsh, 2021; Sihela, 2022) and ensuring the embedded privileges of the status quo (April, 2021). Scholars such as April (2024) and Steyn (2015) observe an ostensible denial of racial privilege and workplace access among the affluent white demographic. Denial of such privileges, white rhetoric of reconciliation, insinuations that modern Southern Africa is in a post-race era, and justifications of personal character, often citing good relationships with Black people and hard work as the main reasons for their success, tend to obscure the racial underpinnings of their socio-economic status (Modiri, 2021; Ndlovu-Gatsheni, 2013; Ruggunan and Sooryamoorthy, 2019). Steyn (2015) likens denial of the enduring salience of race in Southern Africa to a “looking away from what is uncomfortable” (ongoing social inequality and workplace discrimination of Black Africans) or a “deflected gaze,” similar to DiTomaso’s (2013) explication of white privilege in the USA in which they posit that the affluent white demographic lean on the narrative of meritocracy and personal endeavor, thereby eclipsing the structural racial privileges and opportunity-hoarding that have cushioned their ascent and sustenance within the social- and economic hierarchies.

Anti-Black racism in organizations/workplaces in Southern Africa

During apartheid in Namibia and South Africa, Black people were systematically impeded by government legislation and financial processes that institutionalized racial segregation and discrimination. Laws such as the Group Areas Act and the Pass Laws restricted where Black people could live, work, and own property, severely limiting their economic opportunities and mobility. Financial institutions mirrored these discriminatory policies, restricting access to credit, loans, and banking services based on race. This legal and financial architecture not only marginalized Black communities economically but also perpetuated socioeconomic disparities and poverty that continue to affect the region’s demographic long after apartheid’s formal end (Seekings and Nattrass, 2005). The phenomenon of poverty imposes significant limitations on the financial opportunities available to Black professionals in many regions, acting as a formidable barrier to economic advancement and wealth accumulation. This systemic issue is compounded by the historical and ongoing socioeconomic disparities that disproportionately affect Black communities, thereby restricting access to capital, quality education, digital access, and professional networks essential for upward mobility.

In the Southern African context, the majority of commercial entitles in the private sector are owned by white people, and these white-owned organizations uphold the persistent white economic supremacy established by settler colonialism and apartheid, by creating white “economic enclaves” that keep Black people (the economic minority despite being a quantitative majority) from meaningful participation in the majority of industries, furthering economic inequality and dependence, entrenching Black impoverishment, destitutedness, precariousness, and vulnerability to further exploitation (April, 2021; Ruggunan and Sooryamoorthy, 2019; Steyn and Foster, 2008; Van der Westhuizen, 2016). Despite surface-level rhetoric about diversity, equity and inclusion (Bell, 2020; Canham, 2019), these organizations do not seriously seek to dismantle historically entrenched, organizational power structures (Canham, 2014b; Nkomo and Al Ariss, 2014). Scholars such as Ulus (2015), Canham (2019), Ruggunan and Sooryamoorthy (2019), April (2021), and Myeza and April (2021) have articulated the ways in which organizations, embedded in colonial contexts, continue to replicate the oppressive logics that undergirded colonialism and apartheid. The logics can be understood as a set of beliefs, expectations, practices and structural mechanisms that sustain unequal power relations and systemic discrimination, and include: (a) racial hierarchization—the belief in and maintenance of a social hierarchy based on race, where white people are still given preferential treatment, opportunities, network access, and status/credibility over other racial groups; (b) economic exploitation—practices that result in unequal economic benefits (e.g. wage disparity, promotional bias, exclusive talent pipelines—favoring certain schools, regions, social networks and socio-economic backgrounds, unequal resource allocation with respect to training and development, and benefit discrepancies in relation to benefits packages, bonuses and stock options); (c) cultural dominance—the imposition of the colonizer’s language, customs, and norms as the standard or ideal, at the expense of Indigenous cultures, identities and spirituality; (d) social segregation—formal and informal policies and practices that physically and socially separate groups based on racial or ethnic identities, which can manifest in organizational silos and cliques that mirror societal divisions; and, (e) workplace political subjugation—mechanisms that disenfranchise certain groups, limiting their representation and voice in decision-making processes within organizations (such as, non-inclusive leadership structures that predominantly consist of individuals from a single demographic and perpetuates groupthink, and overlooks the perspectives of other demographic groups; marginalization or sidelining of certain individuals in meetings thereby limiting their influence on decision-making; practices that promote inequitable access to critical information which often exclude certain races, genders and socio-economic classes; and, bias in appointments to decision-making bodies as a result of nepotism, cronyism, or other forms of favoritism that disproportionately disenfranchise underrepresented groups) (Acker, 2006; April et al., 2023; Cobb et al., 1995; Greenhaus et al., 1990; Rivera, 2015; Rosa and Flores, 2017; Tomaskovic-Devey and Avent-Holt, 2016; Upton and Arrington, 2012). These organizational cultures are not mere relics of a bygone era; rather, they are presently active reproductions that uphold social dynamics marked by domination and subjugation (April, 2021; Dar and Ibrahim, 2019). Historical power dynamics engender a milieu where anti-Black racism is embedded within the very fabric of organizational culture, engendering what Acker (2006) identified as “inequality regimes.” These regimes are stubbornly resilient to change—often resisting earnest racial transformation despite governmental positive action interventions to reverse the legacies that benefit a select racial group (Adams and Luiz, 2022; April, 2021; Avenant et al., 2016; Nkomo, 2011a; Ruggunan and Sooryamoorthy, 2019).

Tragically, Black bodies that are accommodated and assimilated into these un-decolonized and colonizing workspaces continue to be marginalized, disempowered, exploited, and dehumanized (see April et al., 2023; Dar and Ibrahim, 2019). To survive, the economic-minority Black employees are usually forced to contort themselves (through passing, acculturation, temporary assimilation, or complete assimilation), within the power structures in their workplaces to attain proximity to influential prototypical white leaders and executives—who hold power to facilitate organization resources and opportunities (Myeza and April, 2021). In some instances, Black employees are compelled to compromise their identities and dignities in order to be included and to receive promotions or material rewards for being non-threating or non-resistant to the white power structures (Bouvy et al., 1994; Canham, 2014a; Dar, 2019; Diener et al., 1991; Glass and Cook, 2020; Smit, 2014).

As a result, anti-Black racism has destabilizing consequences by prohibiting Black workers from developing coherent and positive self-perceptions, professional identities, self-efficacy and autonomy, resulting in loss of confidence and subsequent control over their lives, as well as reductions in emotional-, psychological- and physical well-being (April, 2021; Chowdhury, 2021; Myeza and April, 2021). Myeza and April (2021) note that the oppression and subjugation that Black managers experience in organizations, particularly those in territories with colonial histories of atrocities, could trigger historical colonial trauma, thereby continuing to inflict (intergenerational) harm on Black minds and bodies. The perpetuation of anti-Black racism serves to (re)produce and solidify historical economic inequalities that extend beyond the confines of organizations, negatively affecting Black communities (Amis et al., 2018; Muzanenhamo and Chowdhury, 2022). For instance, the irresponsible practice of under-paying Black employees and withholding access to high-paying positions further cements the cycle of Black poverty (Espi et al., 2019; Wetzel, 2022). Moyo (2009) discusses the broader economic challenges facing the region, which exacerbate the financial constraints experienced by Black professionals, suggesting a re-evaluation of development strategies to foster genuine economic empowerment and opportunity in the region.

Yet, rather than challenging the colonial structures that support organizational racial injustices, some anti-racism discourses in MOS seem to focus on asking white people for tolerance or acts of generosity toward the less powerful Black employees (Frymer et al., 2021; Hunt et al., 2021; Wall, 2021). Organizations have taken to offering “surface-level” diversity and inclusion workshops and educating white staff about racial prejudice through, for example, unconscious bias training. Byron and Roscigno (2019), as well as Noon (2018: 198), critique the trend of “unconscious bias training” as a diversity initiative grounded on speculative assumptions, casting doubt on its capability to eradicate workplace racism. They suggest that mere awareness of biases does not necessarily translate into altered behaviors and the requisite unlearning/relearning among managers and staff, nor adequately addresses the race-laden bureaucratic discourses and policies. Even assuming that such training could potentially influence behavior, Noon (2018) argues that its efficacy is contingent on the form of racism present—whether it is subtle, modern, or overt. Moreover, he points out that even with a willingness to change, systemic barriers may hinder the adoption of inclusive-friendly behaviors. Noon further posits that the emphasis on individual agency by advocates of this training is exaggerated, and from a critical, sociological perspective, such interventions may appear futile. Similarly, Nkomo and Al Ariss (2014), Al Ariss et al. (2014), and April et al. (2023), all claim that such training has been found to be less transformative, as there is rarely active and rigorous confrontation with social injustices and embedded historical privileges in these workshops.

Steve Biko’s Black Consciousness philosophy as anticolonial liberatory praxis

Steve Biko advanced BC as a philosophy and political framework in the anticolonial struggle for Black liberation to regain the humanity of Black people dehumanized by settler colonialism, apartheid, and capitalism which disadvantaged Black people. As a critical step toward liberation, Biko (1978) called on Black people to realize that their minds and consciousness were the most potent weapons against tyranny and exploitative ideologies.

Black consciousness seeks to show the Black people the value of their standards and outlook. It urges Black people to judge themselves according to these standards and not be fooled by the white society, which has Whitewashed themselves and made white standards the yardstick by which even Black people judge each other (Biko, 2004: 33).

Biko (1978) also advocated that the colonizer-colonized dichotomy and relationship must be rectified, and that BC was not only a means of awakening the Black population, beyond South Africa, to their own value and strength but also had the potential to liberate white people from the chains of false superiority and racism. By recognizing the humanity and equality of Black people, white people could heal from the dehumanization inherent in oppressing others. Biko argued that this realization would break down barriers of hatred and misunderstanding, leading to a more cohesive and humane society for all to achieve liberation. This sentiment resonates with Fanon’s (1963) vision of a “new humanism” that goes beyond the dichotomy of colonizer and colonized, paving the way for a reimagined collective existence that transcends established binaries and embraces a cohesive coexistence.

Scholars have argued that BC is still relevant to counter the present and on-going forms of discrimination, as economic freedom has not yet been realized by the majority of Black people (April, 2021; Maart, 2014; More, 2017; Sithole, 2016). Anticolonial theory, including Black Consciousness (BC), serves as a direct counter-narrative to enduring colonial and contemporary capitalistic frameworks, drawing upon knowledge systems born from the experiences and collective memory of movements that have resisted colonial and neo-colonial dominance (Sefa Dei and Asgharzadeh, 2001; Simmons and Sefa Dei, 2012) —these knowledge systems are sometimes termed “revolutionary-based epistemologies”, as they refer to systems of knowledge and understanding that emerge from and aim to support radical social transformations. Freire (1970) and Fanon (1963) discussed knowledge as a tool for liberation and the role of revolutionary knowledge in decolonization processes, respectively. These frameworks challenge dominant ideologies and structures, advocating for fundamental changes in society. Grounded in the lived experiences of oppressed groups, these epistemologies prioritize the voices and wisdom of those at the margins as essential for creating more just and equitable societies. They critique existing power relations and seek to reconceptualize knowledge production and dissemination processes to serve liberatory goals.

Fundamental to anticolonial theory is the political impetus for decolonization, which recognizes colonialism as a persistent reality rather than a concluded historical event (Cabral, 2016; Getachew and Mantena, 2021; Sefa Dei and Asgharzadeh, 2001; Simmons and Sefa Dei, 2012). Moreover, anticolonial theory, alongside its derivative—Black Consciousness, aligns with the Black radical tradition. This tradition embodies a communal consciousness formed through enduring battles for freedom and a communal commitment to maintain collective existence, or what can be described as ontological entirety (Robinson, 1983).

At the core of BC is the imperative for the liberation of Black subjects through mobilization for self-determination, self-acceptance, and/or self-reliance and self-repair (Biko, 2004). Subsequently, Black people can envision a free future through self-determination, and thus struggle to re-configure power and break free from white dominant structures. According to Biko (1978) and Fanon (1952), the system of white supremacy, a colonial construct, is based on non-acceptance of their blackness by Black Africans, a lack of self-determination, as well as a lack of confidence in their own self-directed freedom. Therefore, BC is an anticolonial solidarity social movement that advocates for the psychological resistance and political action to liberate Black communities by erasing the “dependent colonial status that has been inflicted upon it” (Carmichael and Hamilton, 1967: 55).

Key constituents of Black Consciousness

In essence, BC focuses on raising the critical consciousness of the Black demographic and encourages striving for a society where justice and humanistic values shape the economic, political, and socio-ecological milieu (Biko, 1978). Biko (2004) emphasized that “the most potent weapon in the hands of the colonizer is the mind of the colonized.” Tyler et al. (2022: 5) ground “. . . [w]hiteness as the impetus for racism, while identifying it as an interpersonal, psychosocial, and contextual phenomenon that informs the race-based traumatic experiences of Black people. The primary factors constituting [w]hiteness are ethnocentric monoculturalism, white standardization, ontological expansiveness, white emotions, attitudes, reactions to race, and white privilege.” Like other African anticolonial scholars and revolutionary leaders, Biko understood that rescuing the African psyche from the psychological and physiological effects of colonialization is the first step toward decolonization. In the next paragraphs, we will discuss some key elements that BC emphasizes in relation to decolonization.

Decolonized “sense of self” rooted in African culture, history and spirituality

According to Biko (2004), it is critical for oppressed people to have a strong sense of “self,” thus countering the notion that Black is an aberration from the normal, which is white (Biko, 1978: 100). Based on African ontology, a sense of self entails understanding oneself in connection to one’s community and one’s spirituality, as knowing oneself requires de-emphasizing the notion of individuality and independence and building a new, self-accepting, authentic sense of interdependent self that is tied to the community and anchored in African history, roots, heritage, and cultural practices that predate colonial influence. Biko’s ideal was that Black people reconnect with pre-colonial African identity, history, and values as a means of psychological and cultural liberation from the imposed inferiority and dependency instilled by colonialism. This process was meant to restore a sense of pride, autonomy, and agency among Black Southern Africans, countering the colonial narrative and reclaiming their contextually relevant narrative and history. This call to remember is comparable to the Akan people of Ghana’s principle of Sankofa, which can be translated to “retrieve,” meaning one must remember their past to achieve progress in the future. For completeness, Biko emphasized that a positive history of oneself instills a healthy sense of belonging to the community. Therefore, according to Biko and other African intellectuals, such as Achebe (1958), Diop (1974, 1991), Wa Thiong’o’ (1986), Chinweizu (1987), and Sharma and April (2013), the purpose of reconstructing the African pre-colonial past is to debunk the colonial falsehood that Africans/Black people were savages with no history of civilization.

Collective political action: Solidarity and self-advocacy for self-determination

For transformation to happen under the BC ideology, conscientization or consciousness-raising of the Black population must be followed by collective action toward decolonial justice and freedom (Biko, 2004; Fanon, 1967). Biko (2004) maintained that BC is grounded in an Indigenous ethos, rooted in African social orientations and the values of Ubuntu - the fundamental African philosophy that enshrines the interconnectedness of all humanity and all creation. Ubuntu’s values are noted as: collectivism, collaboration, dignity, and mutual respect, caring, compassion, and solidarity (April and Peters, 2011; Mangaliso, 2001; Poovan et al., 2006). Biko asserted that BC, as an ideology of empowerment, independence, interdependence, struggle, and action, inspires members of the oppressed community to be devoted to their emancipation through the redemptive power of community/solidarity constituted by various actors, including activists, elders, artists, intellectuals, social movements, civil society organizations, and others. The solidarity of Black people is predicated on the fact that all Black people are oppressed, although in different, intersectional ways, by the same colonial ideologies and belief systems the world over. As a result, their freedom is intricately intertwined, and no amount of individualized effort will result in genuine freedom. This viewpoint contrasts sharply with neoliberalism’s efforts that seek to convince us that anti-Black racism is a personal problem that can be overcome by hard work and perseverance. Neoliberalism often perpetuates the notion that anti-Black racism is a personal issue, detached from systemic roots, and that individual effort and determination are sufficient for overcoming racial disparities. This ideology suggests that the market, through its meritocratic nature, rewards hard work regardless of one’s racial background, thereby downplaying the impact of structural racism (Harvey, 2005; Melamed, 2006). To be clear, BC does not disregard the political potential and agency of individuals; rather, it strives to organize and mobilize individual political potential into a solidarity unit for Black liberation.

Political education

Biko (2004), and Fanon (1967), advocates for championing BC through political education or revolutionary epistemologies, expressed in different modalities such as literature and other arts. The purpose of this political education is to equip Black communities with a deeper understanding of their reality and the political and historical foundations of their oppression—ultimately, to instill or heighten their sense of agency and political potential, which will ultimately lead to resistance and reflection on freedom possibilities. As Fanon (1967: 157) notes:

To educate the masses politically is to try, relentlessly and passionately, to teach the masses that everything depends on them; that if we stagnate it is their responsibility, and that if we go forward it is due to them too, that there is no such thing as a demiurge but that the demiurge is the people themselves and the magic hands are finally only the hands of the people.

Political education from a BC perspective, as Biko states, includes reversing colonial miseducation, fear, and sense of inferiority inculcated in Black people over the years of indoctrination through inherited colonial education and religions that function to uphold white supremacy and coloniality. To practically unlearn indoctrination, a person must actively participate in the transformative learning process, involving interrogation and critical reflection of one’s beliefs and assumptions (Mezirow, 1997) in relation to others. This entails seeking out and considering multiple viewpoints, questioning previously unchallenged narratives, and embracing the discomfort that often accompanies cognitive dissonance (Dharani and April, 2022). Relearning more constructive life approaches can be furthered by adopting critical thinking as a habit, a skill elaborated upon by Brookfield (2012), who advocates for reflective questioning and openness to change as fundamental to personal growth.

Political education is also crucial to economic empowerment and solidarity. The essential goal of political collective action inspired by BC is to agitate the status quo, organize, and mobilize Black people’s opposition against economic injustice, as reflected in Biko’s (2004: 149) claim that, “. . . for meaningful change to appear, there needs to be an attempt to reorganize the whole economic pattern.”

The (im)possibility of transposing BC into the MOS discourse on anti-Black racism

Gordon (2018) reminds us that anti-Black racism is a political issue, and therefore requires political solutions. There has been little MOS theorizing of political means to reduce anti-Black racism. Chowdhury (2021) suggests that MOS researchers should pay closer attention to BC principles and earnestly incorporate approaches that values and promotes Black cultural narratives and historical insights within academic and institutional frameworks. As a political framework and central to BC is liberation, the advancement and respect for the dignity and freedom of both Black and white populations. Thus, BC philosophy presents a promising political liberatory practice aimed at challenging the widespread anti-Black racism in organizations and society at large. Couto et al. (2021) emphasize the urgent need to dismantle longstanding power structures and hierarchies that perpetuate inequality and are reminiscent of colonial legacies, in both the workplace and broader societal contexts. They call for comprehensive reforms that eradicate the lingering effects of colonialism responsible for ongoing injustices and inequalities, advocating for the creation of organizational cultures that respect human dignity and promote equity, thus benefiting the entire society. Such profound change goes beyond superficial reforms to address the deep-seated roots of social and organizational inequality and control. This endeavor relies on leveraging Black academic contributions—insights derived from the experiences of people of African descent (Muzanenhamo and Chowdhury, 2023: 2), and is anchored in the commitment to intellectual activism (Contu, 2020). This stance encourages MOS researchers to move from merely theorizing about social change to actively participating in political actions that facilitate such transformation. In a similar vein, Goldberg David (2001) points out that debates and disagreements regarding race across different cultures are indicative of wider issues concerning political systems and the nature of community life. Anti-Black racism, in the Southern African context, is rooted in the socio-historical relations in communities that are then reproduced in organizations. Thus, addressing anti-black racism requires praxistical theorizing—different from abstract theorizing which is disconnected from reality—and instead promotes theory that emerges from, and is tested by, real-world application and social practices aimed at social change. To achieve this, requires what we call Black praxistical scholarship which is scholar-activism guided by BC political thought that advocates and spearheads political education programs within Black communities to raise their consciousness of histories and continuities of colonial violence perpetrated by racial capitalism, and to foster critical positioning that questions and seek out creative ways to collectively challenge and dismantle continued colonial violence.

Grounded in BC thinking, this African praxistical scholarship should be advanced by creating meaningful connections (King and Griffin, 2023) with Black communities, grassroot movements, employees, activists, and artists to (re)educate and raise the consciousnesses of oppressed community members to become agents of social, economic, and cultural liberation in their communities.

The appeal for active participation in the cause of Black liberation, while primarily directed at Black MOS scholar-activists, also extends to “white comrades” or allies, as termed by Muzanenhamo and Chowdhury (2023) and non-Black People of Colour (POC) allies (due to their proximity to whiteness). It is critical to understand that within the framework of BC-inspired liberation, the role of White and non-Black POC allies is not to act as saviors or helpers to Black people. Instead, their engagement should aim at their own liberation as well (Hooks, 1994). This view stems from the understanding that oppression impacts everyone, though in varying degrees, and genuine freedom is achievable only when everyone is liberated (Césaire, 2000; Hooks, 1994), highlighting the interconnected nature of liberation efforts. Nonetheless, considering the longstanding global power imbalances fueled by white supremacy and racism, white allies are urged to approach their participation with humility, avoiding leadership roles within the Black liberation movement. Instead, they should prioritize amplifying Black voices and leadership. According to Biko (2004), white allies could most effectively champion Black liberation efforts within white communities, where they naturally have influence and are welcomed.

In this paper, we are guided by scholars such as Nkomo (2021) and Cortina (2008), who emphasize that racism, as an incivility, permeates multiple levels (societal, organizational, and interpersonal) and necessitates engagement at each of these levels. In line with this perspective, we envision BC as a liberatory praxis that can be deployed on multiple levels to effectively address persistent anti-Black racism across all these dimensions. The subsequent sections of this paper explore the potential for implementing BC-inspired praxis at the societal (macro), organizational (meso), and interpersonal (micro) levels, highlighting its liberatory potential to combat anti-Black racism on diverse fronts. Applying BC is not straight forward, but involves multifaceted and complex approaches that address anti-Black racial injustices at multiple levels. It is a collective liberatory task that involves combining activism, advocacy, education, and research, through which MOS scholar-activists (outsider activists) can contribute by collaborating with employees (insider activists) to forge or intensify a struggle against anti-Black racism and facilitate Black liberation for Black employees and their communities. We see this as a potential way in which MOS scholars and Business Schools, as outsider activists, can make a difference (Contu, 2020).

Macro-level political imagination: Black Consciousness liberatory praxis at societal level

We begin by stating that, according to BC thought, any significant reform in organizations must be accompanied by decolonial disruption actions at the social level to bring about both internal and external organizational transformation. The rationale for this broad-based approach lies in the very nature of colonial systems, which are deeply woven into the fabric of society, influencing economic, cultural, and political domains. As Fanon (1963) articulates, the colonial impact extends beyond geopolitical territories; it embeds itself into the psyche and social structures, necessitating a comprehensive resistance that spans multiple levels of engagement.

Two key areas that Black praxistical scholarship for liberation should focus on are the pressing issues of economic empowerment and solidarity among Black communities in the Southern African region to challenge and transform the prevailing capitalist system (Bosch and Booysen, 2021; Mohanty, 2003). As noted earlier, racialised economic inequalities create power gaps that serve as the foundation for the subjugation and exploitation of precarious organizational members who belong to societal powerless groups (Collins, 1989, 1993, 1997). Some MOS scholars have already called for the dismantling of economic power structures that uphold racial injustice in organizations (Liu, 2017; Pullen et al., 2021; Romani et al., 2021). It stands to reason that addressing organizational racial inequalities should be prioritized alongside broader social decolonial initiatives that seek to reform the current capitalist frameworks into more equitable and inclusive economic systems. Some of the broader social decolonial initiatives already taking shape in Southern Africa are: land reclamation and reform: in countries like Zimbabwe, Namibia and South Africa, initiatives to redistribute land to the Indigenous populations address the historical injustices of colonial-era land dispossession. This critical decolonization effort aims to rectify the imbalances of the past (Kepe and Hall, 2018; Moyo, 2001); language revival and promotion: efforts to revive and promote Indigenous languages, previously suppressed during colonial rule, are evident in countries such as South Africa, Namibia, and Eswatini. These nations are integrating Indigenous languages into their education systems to preserve cultural identity and heritage (Bamgbose, 2000; Deumert and Storch, 2020; Prah, 2018); educational curriculum decolonization: across Africa, there is a movement to revise educational curricula to include African perspectives, histories, and contributions, moving away from exclusively Euro-American centric narratives and to embrace African literature and other arts, philosophy, history, business/management theory, and mathematics (Foster et al., 2022; Kessi et al., 2020; Mngomezulu and Hadebe, 2018); statue and monument removal: the removal of colonial-era statues and monuments, and their replacement with symbols of national pride and Indigenous heroes, reflects a continent-wide effort to reclaim historical narratives. This trend is observed in Ethiopia, Ghana, and South Africa (Atuire, 2022; Chirikure et al., 2022; Ndlovu-Gatsheni, 2015); economic decolonization: promoting African-owned enterprises and establishing economic policies that favor Indigenous growth are essential steps toward economic decolonization. Supporting local businesses and encouraging investment in African economies are key strategies (Iheduru, 2018); Black-economic empowerment (BEE): the purposeful economic empowerment of the Black demographic, through government legislation, mandatory corporate policies, requisite Black ownership, and policing of the inclusion of Black owners and executive leadership in supply chains, and used as a tool to encourage the processes of employment creation and wealth distribution through balanced economic opportunities in Namibia and South Africa (Gaomab, 2005; Vilakazi and Bosiu, 2021).

From a BC perspective, an economic power base is crucial for Black people to build through self-determination and leverage it to resist ongoing economic oppression. Carmichael and Hamilton (1967: 39) encouraged Black people to mobilize themselves through “questioning the values and institutions of society and gain economic change through their own political engagement and economic empowerment.” To this end, there are a number of areas in which the Black demographic is empowered through economic mobilization, for example, education and critical consciousness: fundamental to the process of conscientization is the enhancement of education that focuses on critical consciousness among the Black demographic, as encouraged through the BCM (Ally and Ally, 2008). Educational programs must integrate critical pedagogy that encourages questioning of societal values and institutions, inspired by Freire’s (1970) notion of consciousness-raising. This approach can foster an understanding of the systemic barriers to economic empowerment and inspire collective action; community-based economic initiatives: support for local, community-based economic initiatives can play a pivotal role in empowering Black people. Initiatives such as cooperative economics (Ujamaa) and collective ownership models not only offer practical pathways to economic independence but also serve as resistance to dependency on entrenched white economic power structures (Abegunde, 2009; Okem and Tshishonga, 2016; Tshishonga and Okem, 2016). These initiatives can leverage local knowledge and resources to create sustainable economic systems (Nyerere, 1969); access to capital and financial literacy: addressing the challenge of economic exclusion requires facilitating access to capital for Black entrepreneurs and communities. This can be achieved through the establishment of Black-owned financial institutions and funds specifically aimed at supporting Black businesses and community-based, entrepreneurial ventures (Patton Power, 2021; Nyamunda, 2016; Tengeh and Nkem, 2017). Coupled with targeted financial literacy programs, these measures can help overcome the barriers to economic participation and inclusive growth (Matemane, 2018); policy advocacy and legal support: engaging in policy advocacy and legal support to dismantle systemic barriers and advocate for equitable economic policies are crucial. This involves challenging discriminatory practices and policies that perpetuate economic disparities and lobbying for affirmative action and equitable representation in business and employment. Legal support can also aid Black communities in navigating the complexities of economic legislation and securing their economic rights (Bell, 1992; Rautenbach, 2015); digital platforms, technology and social innovation: leveraging digital platforms to build networks and share resources can significantly enhance the political engagement and economic empowerment of Black communities. Online platforms can facilitate the sharing of knowledge, opportunities, and strategies for economic development, as well as connect Black entrepreneurs with markets and investors globally (Benjamin, 2019; Nwuneli, 2016).

Wall (2021: 138) reminds us that the white supremacist system “is not capable of giving Black people freedom where freedom equals the dignity that systemic oppression inherently denies”. Dussel and Ibarra-Colado (2006: 504) recommends that when victims of exclusionary practises become conscious of their oppression, they should construct “new forms of organization as concrete alternatives for a better life” (see further for some alternatives). Dussel and Ibarra-Colado (2006: 504) further note that building an alternative organizational system is the most pragmatic form of liberation, which offers the potential to open “new possibilities in which the life of every victim can be materially transformed, allowing the victim to abandon [their] state of perpetual anguish.” These alternative organizations built from political struggle for Black liberation are social and political instruments (Misoczky et al., 2017) for decolonialization, created to facilitate the emergence of alternative economic systems contrary to the individualized competitive systems of the current (mainly Western) neoliberal frameworks which serve a minority of elites at the expense of the majority of citizens.

Meso-level political imagination: Black Consciousness praxis at the organizational level

Organizations in (post)colonial contexts, such as in Southern Africa, that have benefited and continue to benefit from colonial violence, should take moral responsibility to address the past colonial harms as part of their corporate social responsibility, and must take ethical and purposeful stances to end anti-Black racism in their workspaces (Mustafa, 2024). However, dismantling colonial frameworks is a complex endeavor that cannot be solely entrusted to organizations; it must be a shared responsibility that engages Black people across and beyond institutional boundaries. Organizations, albeit powerful agents of change, may not possess the fluidity to navigate the multifaceted expressions of colonial legacies, often bound by their own bureaucratic and structural limitations. Táíwò (2022) emphasizes the importance of individual and community actions in initiating localized and contextualized responses that organizations alone may not effectively implement. Thus, we advocate for genuine collaboration between organizations and Black communities, including insider (employees) and outsider activists (scholar-activists, activists and decolonial social movements), toward decolonial and anti-racist organizational efforts.

Additionally, the moral imperative of decolonization requires active participation from those directly affected by colonial legacies. Césaire (2000) famously underscored decolonization as a process of rehumanization not just for the colonized, particularly Black people who bear the brunt of its enduring effects, but also for the colonizer, making it an ethical mandate for all. Hence, while organizations play a significant role, it is the multitude of Black voices, other people-of-color voices, white voices, and actions within communities, academia, the arts, and various other sectors that forge a robust and dynamic front against the remnants of colonialism. This broad engagement ensures that the process of deconstruction is not only comprehensive but also imbued with the rich diversity of perspectives and strategies needed to address the pervasive influence of coloniality. Activism and advocacy within organizations also play crucial roles. Employees, as insider activists, empowered by protections for whistleblowers and with the support of external advocacy groups, can be formidable agents for change, as highlighted by Avakian and Roberts (2012).

Thus, BC-inspired praxis at the organizational level, we contend, should seek to expose, and disrupt the continued racial injustice, exploitation, colonial violence, and socio-inequalities perpetrated by colonizing organizations. For instance, Nkomo (2011a) suggests that these interventions should include holding organizations accountable for failing to transform repressive organizational cultures. Holding organizations accountable for perpetuating repressive cultures is a multidimensional challenge that demands interventions at both systemic and intrapersonal levels. Critical to this process is the establishment of transparent accountability mechanisms that are not merely punitive but transformative in nature. Firstly, continuous organizational audits and assessments conducted by independent bodies are vital. These should measure not only policy implementation but also the lived experiences of employees, as proposed by April et al. (2023), ensuring that the organization’s climate reflects its espoused values of equality and respect. Educational and training programs are also essential, but they must go beyond standard diversity workshops and must be infused with BC thought to critically engage with white power dynamics and privilege, as argued by Ferdman and Sagiv (2012), facilitating a deeper understanding and change in behaviors rather than superficial compliance. Additionally, transformation requires participative governance structures that allow for genuine representation and influence of marginalized groups within decision-making processes, aligning with Pannilage’s (2015) perspectives on the democratization of the workplace. Restorative justice practices are another key intervention (Opie and Roberts, 2017), which, unlike traditional disciplinary approaches, focus on the harm caused and the needs of those impacted. This aligns with the works of Logan (2019, 2021) and Mustafa (2024), who argue that corporations that benefited from historical harm have a moral responsibility for reparations to Black people for racial injustices. We also emphasize the importance of moral corporate responsibility to Black people in Southern Africa to repair the historical colonial harms suffered during settler colonialism and apartheid.

We believe that acknowledging colonial violence histories is a genuine effort toward restitution and reparation (Mbembe, 2017; Tuck and Yang, 2012); and organizations/institutions, such as the long-established private sector organizations in the Southern Africa region, should be obligated to acknowledge colonialism as part of their history (Gopal, 2021), and disavow and cease their denial of their colonial past (Cooke, 2003; Mollan, 2019; Muhr and Salem, 2013). Guided by the principles of decolonial justice, BC liberatory praxis should emphasize the need for (economic) reparations and restitution from organizations and institutions that have profited from historical colonial atrocities—genocide, apartheid, enslaved labor, land and property appropriation and exploitation, which have contributed to the creation of what Tuck and Yang (2012) aptly describe as “imperial wealth.”

Micro-level political imagination: Black Consciousness praxis at the inter/personal level

Consciousness-raising at the micro-level within the MOS context corresponds to what Edmondson Bell and Nkomo (2001) refer to as “armoring,” which they define as a resistance strategy for equipping Black employees struggling with racism in corporate America to improve their perception of their dignity, self-worth, and sense of beauty in an environment that repeatedly sends devaluing messages. To extend this concept via BC would involve critical dialog to encourage Black employees toward conscious-raising and individual self-decolonization (McCarthy and Moon, 2018), or to “weaponize” Black employees to build up courage to resist anti-Black racism and white supremacy. This alerts and sensitizes them to the connection between their everyday workplace anti-Black racism experiences and the historical and political foundations of colonial continuities, racial capitalism and ongoing discrimination. According to Barros (2010: 170), oppressed people and groups “have the potential to be conscious agents capable of reflecting on and understanding their reality as influenced by shared meanings and values acquired through interaction within a shared culture that may also hold contradictory values.” As McCarthy and Moon (2018) notes, this kind of awareness-raising is critical because it empowers people and equips them to combat oppression at both the inter/intrapersonal and organizational levels. In addition, the political agency of individuals and informal collectives act as counterbalances to institutional inertia, and a potential veering away from concerns of racism (Raelin, 2008), and can catalyze systemic change from the grassroots level. As Hooks (2015) points out, the personal and the political are interconnected, suggesting that liberation from oppressive structures begins with individual consciousness and translates into collective action.

It is also essential to heed Raelin’s (2013) caution that engagement in emancipatory dialog must be done in a non-imposing way that does not elicit another form of colonization on the already colonized subjects. Black professionals can, or can be encouraged to, raise their awareness of workplace racial injustices by actively seeking education through Black liberation literature, participating in workshops, and engaging with advocacy groups focused on racial equity and inclusion, thereby instilling in them a strong sense of self and duty (Edmondson Bell and Nkomo, 2001). With heightened awareness, they should advocate for transparent policies, support and establish affinity groups, and engage in constructive dialog with decision-makers to challenge and dismantle oppressive power systems and dynamics (April et al., 2023).

Notwithstanding the dangers inherent in liberation efforts, such as the potential for heightened repression, identity threat, being burdened with racialized tasks, eliciting adverse reactions from white communities, and racialized workplace emotional expression (Kyere and Fukui, 2023; Liu et al., 2021; Magubane, 2019), it is suggested that, consistent with the tenets of BC, Black workers should be bolstered to engage in micro-level liberation initiatives through education, unlearning of auto-pilot behaviors, inclusive of self-awareness and self-mastery, narrative inquiry, as well as radical and imaginative strategies (April et al., 2023; Coleman, 2006; Jackson, 2003; Rapiya et al., 2023; Zanoni and Janssens, 2007). Freire (1970) posits that freedom is won through struggle rather than bestowed. This political education aims to instill courage and hope by drawing upon the rich legacy of the Black liberation movements. Hope is differentiated from optimism here—according to West (2023), when delving into the dynamics of hope and optimism in the context of social and political activism, “hope” takes an active stance of a participant who actively struggles against the prevailing evidence to change the deadly tides of despair, whereas “optimism” adopts the role of a spectator who surveys the evidence in order to infer that things are going to get better. Kelley (2002) observes that hope acts as a formidable energizer and a wellspring of endurance amidst racial adversity and the fight for freedom. Such courage and hope are pivotal for the development of innovative approaches to micro-level liberation (Edmondson Bell and Nkomo, 2001; Raelin, 2013; Zanoni and Janssens, 2007).

Conclusion

This article proposes a liberatory praxis framework rooted in ethical and humane decolonial practices drawn primarily from anticolonial and BC thought. The BC political framework offers a holistic approach that goes beyond mere awareness of racism to address the psychological, cultural, and historical dimensions of anti-Black racism. It empowers Black people to reclaim their identities, voice their lived experiences, challenge oppressive systems, and foster solidarity in the fight against racism within organizations and society at large. The decolonization liberatory praxis through the BC lens is a long-term process, messy and non-linear, intertwined with broader societal, organizational, and interpersonal decolonial efforts. This approach aims to engage a broad range of actors, including Black employees as insider activists and Black scholar-activists, as well as other people-of-color and white allies as outsider activists, engaged in fostering collective solidarity to challenge and dismantle dominant power structures that perpetuate anti-Black racism at various levels within the Southern African region. This vision of Black liberation aims to construct an alternative power base for a fair, inclusive, and humanistic societal order. The goal is to transcend historical divisions and seeks to create a new humanism defined by dignity and freedom for all.

The paper contributes to the discourse on liberatory approaches and consciousness-raising in MOS by reimagining colonial experiences and anticolonial struggles, particularly the BCM, as a source of management and organizing knowledge that can intensify resistance against anti-Black racism in the workplace and broader society. Moreover, this paper advances decolonizing MOS by pluralizing the canon and drawing from voices from the anticolonial struggle archive, voices that are often left out in MOS knowledge production. We would like to conclude by calling for more political scholarly efforts to make MOS a platform to liberate the consciousness of colonially-oppressed Black people, fostering resistance against anti-Black racism in workplaces and society. We call for more explicit Black praxistical theorizing to boost intellectual activism in MOS that focuses on Black liberation. More research should present decolonial perspectives, drawing inspiration from Black radical traditions and anticolonial movements, to enhance resistance against anti-Black racism in organizations and broader society, particularly within (post)colonial contexts.