*insert witty title about revisiting the past*

In their essays, Hutto and Campbell describe several rhetorical traditions practiced in Africa centuries ago, showing that Greek rhetoric was not the only, nor necessarily the best, discursive practice of the Ancient World. These essays reveal that, despite the dominance of Greco-Roman rhetoric around the world today (perpetuated by the West’s assumed ideological, political and cultural supremacy over other cultures and rhetorics), many rhetorical practices actually have roots in other, equally ancient and valid, discursive frameworks and distinct purposes, presenting, therefore, “alternative views on what makes a skilled speaker” (Hutto 1).

Hutto’s analysis of ancient Egyptian rhetoric shows that what most have internalized as “the purpose of rhetoric,” that is, the Greek notion of “eloquent expression” and persuasion, does not actually apply to all rhetorical practices. In fact, ancient Egyptian discourse seemed to emphasize a “balance between eloquence and wise silence,” where knowing when not to speak was a valued skill (1). Good rhetorical skills and silence did not serve the purpose of self-expression so much as they were aimed at developing good citizens in the public sphere and good people in the private. It was also, in opposition to Greek rhetoric as Hutto points out, a way to reinforce the social status quo (1; 6). Similarly to what Matalene describes about Chinese rhetoric in “Contrastive Rhetoric: An American Writing Teacher in China,” Egyptian rhetoric relied heavily on the repetition of traditional maxims as a sign of respect for authority and the past (1; 6). Invention and originality, emphasized in the Greco-Roman-Anglo-American model, didn’t matter much to ancient Egyptians. Instead, as the author points out, the most important rhetorical features one could possess were “silence, restraint and truth” (9), which would ensure the upkeep of the social hierarchy, but also curb self-involved egos and develop credible ethos by advising modesty towards their social or intellectual “inferiors” and allowing others to speak (7). On a religious level, language was seen as a powerful tool, having the power to create worlds (much like in Christianity) and potentially save the individual’s soul in the afterlife (3-4).

It is interesting to notice that, throughout the essay, Hutto uses a comparative approach, describing Egyptian rhetoric (or rhetorics, as the author points out that external influences affected language and discourse in different ways throughout Egyptian history (2)) in relation to Greek rhetoric, and often relying on the work of Western scholars such as Michael Fox, George Kennedy and Antonio Loprieno, which may attest to the dominance of Western scholarship in Rhet/Comp Studies and the need to extend it to other, more localized, and perhaps more specialized, voices. Campbell, on the other hand, immediately acknowledges the recent shift in Rhet/Comp to the exploration of non-Western cultures and rhetorics and attempts to provide a description of ancient Ethiopian rhetoric within the context of other ancient African discursive practices (255)-256). In fact, Campbell argues for the need to study African non-literate (that is, predominantly oral) practices independently from the Western tradition, as they possess distinct features (257). As Campbell shows, despite their largely oral tradition, the cultures of cities such as Napata, Meroe and Axum possessed their own rhetorical practices, which, similarly to ancient Egyptian rhetoric, had a moralistic intention and were aimed at elevating the ethos of the speaker (261). Another important feature of some of these cultures was the connection between rhetoric and divinity: figures of authority often drew their rhetorical and political power from invocations to god’s protection (266).

In seemingly different ways, both authors aim to show that there was once rhetorical diversity in Africa that was as complex as, and independent from, Western rhetoric. Campbell’s words sum it up very well: “Africa has rhetorical traditions that are oral and literate; ancient and modern; political, religious, and social – in other words, traditions that are as rich and diverse as any in the Western world” (274). But, as this author also acknowledges, this diversity is still very much unstudied, leading to misconceptions about these cultures and rhetorics. Perhaps what we need is a paradigm shift that focuses on the value and validity of these practices, that puts them at the center of the discussion for once. The question is, how do we go about making that happen?