Fr. Francois Bontinck: 1920-2005.

"En Afrique, chaque vieillard qui meurt est un bibliotheque qui brule." In Africa, each elder who dies is a library going up in flames.

This saying of the world-famous Malian writer Amadou Hampate Ba is, in my opinion, applicable to Father Francois Bontinck. This missionary--who spent fifty-two years in Congo and who became partly an African himself--left us at the age of eighty-four. Many of African Arts' readers have known him, corresponded with him, and visited him in his famous library at the Scolasticat Pere Nkongolo (Scopenko) in Kinshasa. Each summer, when he took his vacation in Belgium, he searched for books at flea markets and in bookshops, but most of the books he received from the authors themselves. They sent him a copy as a token of their gratitude: Father Bontinck had read their paper or previous publication from beginning to end--as he always did--and had sent them his comments. This yielded him a thorough knowledge of the history of Africa, a lot of friends among renowned scientists, a lot of interesting books on the history and art of Africa, and an imposing library. Each year he returned to Kinshasa with cases full of new works and catalogues.

Franciscus Renatus Bontinck was born on August 16, 1920, in Schellebelle, Belgium. At the age of fifteen he already dreamt of becoming a missionary. He entered the convent of Scheut in Anderlecht (Brussels) in 1939 and expected to go and preach the gospel in China. But his superiors decided otherwise: They sent him to the Gregorian University in Rome for a doctorate in the history of the church. He quickly obtained his degree and graduated with the greatest distinction. In 1950 he finally became a missionary, not to China but to Belgian Congo. He traveled from Leopoldville to Lisala (Equator Province) and through the mission of Libanda (on the Ngiri River). But he was called to become a teacher at the seminar of Bolongo. In 1957 he was charged with building a new college at Lisala. But this order was superceded by another: A letter from Rome asked him to return to Leopoldville to teach the history of the church at the newly installed Faculty of Theology at the University of Lovanium, a position he kept for twenty-eight years. He also became an assistant at the university library and started building up his own library on the history (and art) of Congo.

In 1961 he was appointed professor at the Faculty of Theology and from 1966 onwards he also taught the history of modern Congo in the department of history. In 1971 he became a guest history professor at the University of Lubumbashi and in 1975 professor at the Institut Superieur de Philosophie Saint Pierre Canisius of the Jesuits in Kimwenza (Kinshasa). In the same year he opened his impressive library to the public. He was also a professor from 1978 onwards at the Grand Seminaire Jean XXIII in Kinshasa and from 1985 at the Philosophat intercongregationnel Saint-Augustin in Limete (Kinshasa).

In addition to these teaching assignments he managed to write books on the topic that interested him the most, the history of Congo: Aux origins de l'Etat independent du Congo (1966) and Histoire du royaume du Congo (1972). He also became known as editor of important historical sources: Jean-Francois de Rome (1964); Diaire congolais de Fra Luca da Caltanisetta (1970); L'autobiographie de (...) Tippo-Tip (1974); Le cathecisme kikongo de 1624 (1978); Emeri Cambier, Correspondance du Congo (2001).

Because of his fascination for the history of Congo--and the Kingdom of Kongo in particular--he became a respected member of several scientific institutions: Academie Royale des Sciences d'Outre-Mer, Brussels; Academie des Sciences d'Outre-Mer, Paris; Centro de Estudos historicos ultramarinos, Lisbon; and Pontificio Comitato di Scienze Storiche of the Vatican City.

In July 2002 he returned for good to his "father-motherland," as he used to call it. He took his abode in the mission house of Scheut in Zuun (Brussels). There he had the intention of finishing a manuscript he was writing on Kongo onomastics. The Kongo language and its etymology fascinated him, especially towards the end of his life. I think that I may say that he developed the analysis of Bantu words into a personal art. When, during a conversation, such a word came up, he analyzed it with a remarkable fluency. His analyses often seemed so complex because of the changes of vowels or consonants; at the same time they sounded plain--sometimes even laughable--as all of it seemed to be pointing to the ancestral world, to the ancestors.

"African art" was a recent interest of his, discovered through the work of Dr. Enzio Bassani. He could savor the aesthetic design of traditional African art objects, but he saw them through the eyes of an historian. He was especially fascinated with art objects' reflection of notions, words reflecting the world of thought of the Bantu. The context of the objects' use also drew his attention: Through his analyses of vernacular words, he pointed to the true Bantu significance and refuted popular explanations.

The name of Father Bontinck can be added to the list of Belgian missionaries, such as Father Basiel Tanghe, Michel Plancquaert, Joseph Van Wing, Placied Tempels, and others, who showed interest in the foreign culture they encountered and thus left us, through their studies, a better understanding of the traditional African way of life.

Father Bontinck's name certainly has been remembered: Already two books have been dedicated to him. His Congolese friends offered him in 2004 a liber amicorum as a farewell gift: La nouvelle histoire du Congo: Melanges eurafricains offerts a Frans Bontinck c.i.c.m. His Belgian friends followed this example. According to the editor, Willy Van Doorselaer, Father Bontinck was pleased reading the manuscripts. However, at the presentation of the book De langzame haast van pater Bontinck: een historicus op missie in het hart van Afrika (the slow hurry of father Bontinck: an historian on a mission in the heart of Africa) in his hometown of Schellebelle on June 18, 2005, Father Bontinck was conspicuous by his absence, having died in the Hospital of Halle two months previously, on April 20.

His works, as well as the libraries he left in Lovanium and Zuun, will remain as silent signs of remembrance to a great friend of many; or to end with a citation of George Crabbe (The Library, 1781): "Libraries: these are the tombs of such as cannot die."