Diamang’s neighbor to the north, Forminière, pursued mechanization on its mines in the Congo at a roughly similar pace, waiting until the late 1930s to introduce machinery into its operations. The divergent labor processes that featured in its two main mining areas reflected the disparate depths and nature of the deposits. In the company’s long-standing western zone, along the Kasai River, it initially relied on large numbers of manual laborers to strip away any obstructive vegetation, reroute water flows, and remove the largely alluvial diamonds, using shovels, baskets, wheelbarrows, and, eventually, mine trams. These deposits were relatively small and were typically located near the surface along the Kasai and its tributaries. Conversely, in the Bushimaie valley (near modern-day Mbuji-Mayi), over a hundred miles to the east, where Forminière harvested most of its industrial diamonds, the company aggressively mechanized its operations to access the deeper, less concentrated deposits. The timing of these mechanization initiatives is also germane. In the western zone, Forminière had been mining gem-quality stones for more than twenty-five years prior to mechanizing operations. However, industrial diamonds, and especially the small ones found in the company’s eastern zone, became marketable only in the 1930s. Consequently, the introduction of machinery into this area was essential and did not feature the type of delay that occurred in the more established western zone.
Further up Africa’s western coast, diamond-mining installations roughly resembled the operations in Angola and the Congo, with two important differences: mechanization occurred even later and a tradition of independent African digging persisted, even if the numbers of these practitioners remained small. These West African mining companies earnestly mechanized operations only in the 1950s. For decades, they had been content to utilize thousands of manual laborers, in great part because shovels largely sufficed to access the area’s shallow deposits. A shortage of mining capital in the region also contributed to this delay. Yet, other factors were even more salient, including the availability of large numbers of relatively inexpensive unskilled laborers; the absence of skilled operators and capable managers, both of whom were required in order to profitably utilize machinery; and the geographical unsuitability of many of the deposits.[74]Notwithstanding this range of obstacles, West African mining companies gradually mechanized their operations for a number of reasons, including the desire to mine lower-grade gravels, such as terrace deposits, which required processing greater volumes of soil; the need to replace old and increasingly obsolescent processing plants with more efficient and secure facilities; and the rising costs of African labor, which were partially attributable to trade union activity. As was the case elsewhere, the bottom line dictated exactly when, to what degree, or even if, operations were mechanized.
Regardless of the particular setting or level of mechanization, after laborers stripped away and discarded the overburden, the exposed ore was removed and taken to “washing stations” for refinement. Over time, the equipment used to transport the ore ranged from simple, woven baskets to massive dump trucks—arguably, the most extreme technological evolution on Africa’s colonial-era diamond mines. Gradual mechanization in this area of the labor process significantly benefited both mining companies and their African labor forces, as it saved workers from having to transport these soils manually, while also greatly increasing operational efficiency. But, African workers with earth-laden baskets on their heads trudging to washing stations remained a common sight on diamond mines, even after the conclusion of the Second World War. As always, African manual labor was the least expensive option.
Most mining operations implemented an evolving series of haulage systems to transport the diamond-bearing soils before eventually introducing dump trucks. For example, by the mid-1920s, the Angolan company Diamang had introduced wheelbarrows to expedite this process. By the end of the decade, the enterprise had also introduced trams pushed along mobile rails, which could be easily relocated and reused, thereby greatly reducing the amount of physical effort necessary to transport the ore. It wasn’t until the 1950s, though, that the first large-capacity dump truck appeared on the company’s mines. And even then this heavy equipment would continue to coexist with mine trams until the end of Diamang’s operations in the mid-1970s. As with the introduction of trams, the arrival of dump trucks failed to herald an end to manual removal and transport.
Once the ore reached the washing stations, it was refined, producing a diamond-rich concentrate that, remarkably, included less than 1 percent of the original amount of excavated overburden and ore. The fact that so much earth is removed, processed, and eventually discarded is the major reason why mining operations have such a severe environmental impact. But, of course, these sorts of concerns were far from the minds of colonial administrators and mining officials.
Next, workers moved the concentrate from the washing sites to highly secured selection centers, which became regular features on colonial-era mines. At these locations, “pickers” manually selected and removed diamonds from the concentrate, at which point the rough stones were ready to be polished and cut—endeavors that almost exclusively took place in Europe. In the early years of mining, pickers worked outside, near the excavation sites. Even when these workers were moved out of the sun into semipermanent structures (typically prior to the Second World War), the process was hardly more sophisticated or accurate. Over time, technical innovations improved and lightened this portion of the labor process, though it was already composed of the least taxing jobs on the mines. These employees were also the most highly scrutinized, as company officials recognized that exposure to diamonds in increasingly refined forms would entice some workers to try to abscond with the stones. Consequently, diamond companies placed pickers under constant vigilance, typically prohibited them from having long hair or fingernails, and rigorously inspected them, reminiscent of the intrusive searches that African workers on the Kimberley mines had endured. It is worth noting, though, that prior to leaving work these employees were spared the humiliation of the invasive speculum and draconian glove-and-chain apparatus that featured on the South African mines.
Homes Away from Home: Mining Accommodations
Colonial-era diamond enterprises typically housed their African workers in structures ranging from modest grass and mud huts to larger dormitory-like arrangements. Over time, companies steadily improved these facilities, though security concerns rather than comfort remained foremost in their considerations. Think army barracks, not residence halls. Although mining enterprises throughout Africa adopted different elements of the vaunted compound system utilized in South Africa, very few of them embraced that housing arrangement wholesale. There were a number of reasons for this aversion, including less regimented mining processes, (much) smaller workforces and fewer problems with diamond theft. These mining companies typically provided accommodations that were much less severe than compounds and which generally produced little of the acrimony, tension, or hostility that figured so prominently on the South African mines.
Accommodations on Forminière’s mines prior to the Second World War were typical of the austere company housing of this period. Arriving recruits were initially allotted time and tools to fashion their own housing or provided with company-constructed accommodations, which had allegedly been fashioned according to Africans’ tastes. As in other settings, colonial legislation in the Congo dictated specific standards for employee housing (though these requirements were not always met), including that the sites had to slope to permit water runoff, possess an adequate supply of potable water, and be enclosed. Within Forminière’s encampments, straw, clay, dried-brick, and stone houses could be found, with each type required to meet durability, ventilation, and size specifications. The type of construction depended on the nature and size of the diamond deposit that the residents were working, as these features determined the length of time that would be spent at the site. For example, clay houses were to be inhabited for no longer than three years and dried-brick houses for no longer tha
n five years. Forminière was responsible for building latrines, providing incinerators, and periodically disinfecting beds. In general, even these basic accommodations attracted, rather than deterred, prospective recruits to the company’s mines.
Forminière also offered enhanced accommodations for select African staff members in its villages routiers, to which employees who had worked for at least eight years could “retire.” These villages featured brick houses, cassava gardens, mango, banana, and palm trees, kitchens, poultry, and tools for up to nine families—not quite a condominium complex in a contemporary American retirement community but a significant upgrade from standard company housing. Naturally, Forminière was not merely interested in facilitating a relaxing transition into old age for the inhabitants of these settings. Rather, the company wanted these “retirees” to maintain local roads, generate food for the mining operations, and, ultimately, produce children who would someday work for the enterprise. Thus, although Forminière was, indeed, bearing a portion of the social costs of its “retired” workers (in distinct contrast to the other concessionary companies operating in the colony), this outlay was primarily intended to attract individuals who would stabilize, and ultimately reproduce, the workforce.
African employees responsible for sorting diamonds at Forminière also enjoyed upgraded accommodations. Workers at these highly secured “sorting stations” were the only Congolese employees who had access to stones in increasingly refined forms. Because of this accessibility, these workers lived together in the same building, often for months at a time without the possibility of leaving, and the company strictly monitored their every entry and departure from these facilities. As compensation, these employees received higher salaries and enhanced rations, in addition to housing that was superior to the accommodations that workers in “normal” encampments were afforded.
Although theft may have been a continual concern for mine managers in the Belgian Congo, it was foremost in the minds of mining officials in South West Africa as they designed worker accommodations. Given the mandate’s political connection to South Africa and De Beers’s influential role, its mines featured secure compounds from virtually the onset of operations. These accommodations bore a strong resemblance to their South African counterparts and were, over time, steadily upgraded in much the same way that Kimberley’s housing was. Adam Raphael of the London-based Guardian newspaper investigated a series of companies operating in South West Africa in 1973 and confirmed these improvements: “Living conditions in the Oranjemund compound bear no resemblance to the squalor of the municipal compound at Katutura [a township associated with the capital city, Windhoek]. Clean, neat, single-story buildings surrounded by trees provided tolerable quarters.”[75]So, do Rafael’s observations finally confirm the existence of an “African Bournville”? Not quite. Just four years later, a member of a BBC television crew that visited a Consolidated Diamond Mines (CDM) compound noted that, although a very good library and common room existed, the black workers’ living quarters were “like seedy barracks” and added that although the company had replaced the notorious concrete sleeping bunks with spring beds covered by inch-thick felt mattresses, as many as ten men and more were confined to a single room. For the time being, at least, the legendary Bournville would remain elusive.
A Healthy Labor Force Is a Productive Labor Force
Over time, the health of African workers became an important consideration for the colonial-era diamond companies. Although alluvial mining was less hazardous for laborers than underground excavation, diamond enterprises of all types increasingly acknowledged the obvious: healthy workforces were generally more productive than unhealthy workforces. These companies correspondingly improved nourishment, sanitation, and health care for their African labor forces, deeming that these measures were fundamental to increasing their profits.
Although the Belgian Congo was, in general, a decidedly noxious place for indigenous residents during the colonial period, Forminière’s affirmative approach to its African employees’ health was virtually unrivaled in the territory. Primary among the company’s concerns was the adequate nourishment of these laborers; as with any operation that utilizes a large number of workers, the enterprise was faced with the challenge of satisfactorily feeding them. Following the commencement of mining operations in 1912, Forminière began purchasing surplus food from local communities. However, it quickly became apparent that this strategy was inadequate. Shortly thereafter, the company allocated a portion of its concessionary lands to raise livestock and cultivate corn, manioc, rice, and groundnuts. At the same time, the Belgian colonial state attempted to ease food shortages on the mines (and in other commercial settings) by enacting an ordinance that forced indigenous residents to utilize land to generate food for local consumption (as well as for export). The government then bought this food at below-market prices and resold it to various companies, including Forminière. F. Peigneus, the governor of the Kasai, subsequently offered the following rationale for this exploitative agricultural policy: “Forminière and the colonial state could feed the mine workers at the lowest possible cost to the company by placing the burden of agricultural production on peasant farmers.”[76]In 1922, the colonial government again assisted the mining enterprise, this time by granting the company 185,000 acres of fertile land for the construction of plantations intended to increase the food supply for the mines. Into the 1920s, apparently in emulation of a local ethnic Luba tradition of “agricultural colonization,” Forminière also embarked on a large-scale program of (re)settling African “colonists” on new farmlands to produce food for the enterprise. Soon these African communities, whose combined population numbered in the thousands, were dutifully supplying low-cost food to the mines. The success of these settlements and, in particular, their abundant production of cassava, made them magnets for regional residents.
Forminière’s medical personnel also contributed to the improvements in the overall health of the African workforce. In fact, the company not only provided health services to its employees but also collaborated with the colonial government to offer medical care to all residents within its concessionary areas, free of charge. The first doctor arrived at Forminière in 1921, and shortly thereafter the company launched a comprehensive medical program. By 1925, in part spurred on by colonial legislation that mandated health care for African employees, but also because Forminière recognized the financial benefits of maintaining a healthy labor force, the enterprise had ten doctors and eleven sanitary agents (health workers responsible for maintaining sanitary conditions in and around the mines) on staff, as well as a training program for male nurses. Furthermore, in conjunction with other companies in the Congo, and complementing Diamang’s efforts across the border to the south, Forminière participated in an expansive campaign to eradicate sleeping sickness. Although the mining environment at Forminière exposed workers to diseases such as tuberculosis and pneumonia and featured a higher mortality rate than those found in workers’ home villages, the company provided its African employees with health services that were quite good by colonial-era standards.
Health conditions on the Gold Coast colony’s commercial mines were also reasonably good, but independent African diggers in that setting suffered because of extremely poor working conditions. A report from the colonial government in 1952 indicated that the sites in which independent diggers were operating were “appallingly primitive. . . . It is common practice for females (and males) to be standing up to the waist in water for long periods daily. . . . It is not uncommon for expectant mothers to be working in such conditions.”[77]Moreover, the worked-out pits acted as reservoirs for rainwater and thus offered ideal breeding conditions for mosquitoes; malaria and other insect-borne diseases were rife. Yet colonial officials lamented, genuinely or otherwise, that any attempt to improve the conditions under which these diggers worked and lived would be ineffective, owing to the extensive area covered and the rapid turnover and mobility of these individual operators. Mor
eover, the diggers themselves apparently did not agitate for improvements. According to a colonial report from the 1950s, “No demand for welfare services among (independent) workers is apparent. Their main object is to make money in order to purchase consumer goods or to send (them) home.”[78]
Conversely, conditions on the Gold Coast’s commercial mines were far better, though it’s hard to imagine how they could have been any worse. From early on, West African diamond companies recognized the benefits of a healthy labor force and acted accordingly, albeit with significant fiscal restraint. Free housing and health care were standard as early as the 1920s, while Consolidated African Selection Trust (CAST) deliberately strove to ensure that overall health conditions on its mines were superior to those on offer from other major employers in the colony. Given that the Gold Coast’s gold mines—a major source of competition for African laborers—necessitated that employees work deep underground, CAST also enjoyed an inherent advantage. As early as 1926, Governor Guggisberg commented that the company’s “very fine” Akwatia camp was “quite a topic of conversation here in Accra (the capital).”[79]Similarly, an International Labor Organisation (ILO) representative, following a visit to the diamond mines in 1936, declared that “in every respect this is a mine such as I have not seen before. European quarters, roads, machinery, mine villages, a mine hospital and even the sanitation of the ground after exploitation are a whole civilization ahead of anything I have so far seen in West Africa. . . . It is noteworthy that here where conditions appeared the best, I met the least complaints regarding the efficiency, discipline and regularity of the labor force.”[80]In 1939, the director of the colony’s newly established Labor Department—the very same individual who had originally invoked the “model village” of Bournville—added:
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