‘Gaudeamus Igitur’: An Open Letter to Higher Learning Institutions
April and May are graduation months at Namibian universities. Ceremonies are held, gowns are worn, degrees are conferred, families celebrate. And, almost without exception, the same song accompanies the academic procession: ‘Gaudeamus Igitur’. Inherited from Europe, it is a melody that has become so normal that few think about it let alone pause to question it. […] The post ‘Gaudeamus Igitur’: An Open Letter to Higher Learning Institutions appeared first on The Namibian.
April and May are graduation months at Namibian universities.
Ceremonies are held, gowns are worn, degrees are conferred, families celebrate.
And, almost without exception, the same song accompanies the academic procession: ‘Gaudeamus Igitur’.
Inherited from Europe, it is a melody that has become so normal that few think about it let alone pause to question it.
Yet for those of us working within a decolonial framework, its repetition begs the question: why does a medieval student song continue to define the soundscape of African and Namibian academic achievement?
‘Gaudeamus Igitur’ – “therefore let us rejoice”– is rooted in Latin as the language of scholarship at institutions and not designed with African realities in mind.
There is nothing inherently wrong with the song.
The problem is its elevation to universal use at academic occasions as though the traditions of medieval Europe are a natural expression of scholarly dignity everywhere in the world.
At institutions like the University of Namibia, it is not limited to music. It extends into the very language of academic ritual.
‘NOT NEUTRAL’
Consider the continued use of the term viva voce – Latin for “with the living voice” – to describe the oral defence of theses and dissertations at our premier university.
It is treated as neutral, as “how academia works”.
But it is not neutral.
The persistence of Latin phrases, European ceremonial music, theoretical frameworks, and imported academic symbols indicate our institutions remain colonised. Not only with curriculums but in culture, aesthetics and daily practice.
Decolonisation, as is often discussed, tends to focus on what is taught: whose authors are on course outlines, which histories are foregrounded, which theories are legitimised.
These are crucial questions.
But they are incomplete if we ignore the symbolic and performative dimensions of academic life.
The graduation procession is a powerful moment that communicates what the university values and how it situates itself in the world.
When Namibian graduates walk to ‘Gaudeamus Igitur’, what message is conveyed – implicitly if not explicitly?
That academic excellence sounds European?
That the pinnacle of scholarly recognition is best marked by symbols that originate elsewhere.
It is an imported intellectual tradition.
Even if unintended, these messages accumulate over time, shaping how institutions imagine themselves and how students experience their place within them.
TRANSFORMATION
The same can be said of viva voce.
Why must the culmination of years of research be named in a language not spoken by the community it serves?
Why should validation of African/Namibian scholarship be mediated through Latin terminology?
It may appear minor but it is part of a broader pattern in which colonial legacies are reproduced through habit rather than deliberate endorsement.
To say we are colonised as Namibian universities and colleges is not to dismiss the achievements of our institutions or the dedication of those who work at them.
Rather, it indicates that coloniality persists in subtle and normalised ways.
Transformation requires more than policy statements.
It requires attention to the texture of institutional life.
It does not necessarily mean discarding everything inherited from elsewhere.
Decolonisation is not about erasure; it is about agency, balance, integration and relevance.
But it also means asking difficult questions.
Why not commission or adopt a Namibian/African composition for academic processions – one that reflects local and continental music traditions and contemporary identities?
Why not rename academic rituals in languages that resonate with the students who participate in them?
Why not treat ceremony itself as a site of intellectual and cultural production rather than a fixed script to be followed?
PRECEDENTS
There are precedents for this kind of reimagining.
Across the continent and beyond, institutions are experimenting with ways to align their symbolic practices with their contexts.
It is not about rejecting global academic standards but about rejecting the assumption that those standards should be expressed in European forms.
The issue is not the song ‘Gaudeamus Igitur’ or the phrase ‘viva voce’ in isolation.
It is the uncritical reproduction of a particular academic heritage as though it were universal.
It is the absence of intentionality in how we construct the rituals that define our institutions.
April and May’s graduations remind us of the power of these moments.
They are not only celebrations of individual achievement, they are performances of institutional identity.
If we are serious about decolonisation, we must be willing to examine not just what we teach, but what we perform – and why.
The question is not whether tradition matters.
It is about whose traditions we choose to elevate, and whether we have the courage to imagine alternatives.
- Ndumba Kamwanyah is a public policy expert (PhD) focusing on the interplay of social welfare policy, development and democracy.
The post ‘Gaudeamus Igitur’: An Open Letter to Higher Learning Institutions appeared first on The Namibian.