Jane Duncan begins the introduction with the politically charged case of Domingos da Cruz, an Angolan journalist, academic, and activist who, alongside sixteen youth activists, was arrested in 2015 on allegations of threatening national security and orchestrating a coup against then-president José Eduardo dos Santos. Duncan strategically deploys this episode to make prominent one of the book’s central concerns, which is the securitization and criminalization of democratic dissent within postcolonial African states. Particularly revealing is da Cruz’s reflection that the youth sought “tools and foundations in order to fight” and articulate “a vision for a future country.” By centering this narrative, Duncan demonstrates how regimes increasingly explain intellectual engagement, political education, and nonviolent activism as existential threats to state authority. The case, therefore, becomes emblematic of the broader tendency of contemporary surveillance regimes to collapse the distinction between legitimate civic participation and subversion, thereby transforming critical thought itself into an object of state suspicion.
The use of Domingos da Cruz as an opening figure is both symbolic and strategic. Duncan positions him not merely as an activist but as an intellectual challenging the failures of postcolonial governance, corruption, and inequality in Angola. His arrest reveals the extent to which surveillance powers have become mechanisms for suppressing alternative political visions rather than protecting citizens. The phrase “the state granted them amnesty and released them after an international outcry,” further exposes the fragility of democratic institutions and the dependence of justice on external pressure rather than constitutional accountability.
A major strength of the book lies in Duncan’s critique of the global expansion of surveillance powers after the September 11 attacks in the United States. She explains how governments worldwide increasingly justify invasive surveillance technologies as necessary tools for combating terrorism and crime (4). Yet Duncan remains skeptical of these justifications, noting the disturbing pattern in which intelligence agencies repeatedly abuse their powers while societies become no safer. Her rhetorical question—“Why do these spy agencies even exist?” becomes a guiding theme throughout the book.
The anti-capitalist perspective adopted in the book is both ambitious and provocative. Duncan contends that surveillance under capitalism functions primarily to stabilize unequal social relations and protect ruling-class interests (3). This argument distinguishes her work from liberal privacy-centered critiques of surveillance by connecting state spying to class power, economic exploitation, and postcolonial governance structures. However, while intellectually compelling, this framework occasionally risks reducing all security practices to capitalist preservation alone, leaving less room for discussing other political factors such as nationalism, regional instability, or ethnic conflict.
Despite its strengths, the book exhibits several conceptual and methodological limitations. Most notably, the reliance on an anti-capitalist framework, which while analytically productive, at times becomes overly deterministic. The argument that surveillance primarily serves capitalist interests risks reducing complex state practices to a single explanatory logic. Alternative perspectives, such as liberal or realist approaches to security, weren’t adequately captured in the book, thereby making it theoretically imbalanced. A more liberal discussion that incorporated other frameworks would have strengthened the analytical depth of the work (3–4).
The book suffers from stylistic and structural weaknesses that affect its overall clarity. There are minor typographical inconsistencies and the frequent use of rhetorical questions. While engaging, it sometimes weakened the credibility of certain claims (2–3). Furthermore, the tone occasionally shifts from scholarly analysis to normative advocacy, particularly when the text frames itself as a “call to action.” This oscillation blurs the boundary between academic critique and political intervention.
Another limitation lies in the treatment of security itself. While the book is effective in critiquing the abuses of surveillance, it did not clearly highlight legitimate security concerns, such as crime and terrorism (4). This results in a somewhat one-sided narrative because the importance of surveillance is insufficiently examined alongside its dangers. So, a better approach would have acknowledged both the risks and the potential justifications of surveillance, thereby enhancing the credibility of the analysis.
Duncan offers a bold and critical interrogation of surveillance in southern Africa, exposing the ways national security rhetoric can conceal authoritarian practices and capitalist interests. Her analysis of Domingos da Cruz and other activists reveals how democratic aspirations themselves can become targets of state surveillance (1–2). This book is highly recommended for scholars interested in African politics, surveillance, activism, policing, digital authoritarianism, and postcolonial governance.
