In Memoriam: Keith Somerville
We were deeply saddened to hear of the death of SULi member Keith Somerville at the end of September. Keith was a journalist and authored a number of books on African conservation including one shortly to be published on rhinos. In this piece, SULi member Adam Hart reflects on some of his memories of Keith.
“Following the “Cecil the lion” incident in the late summer of 2015, I had made a BBC Radio documentary on trophy hunting. Following its release, I was getting some abuse online and more than a few angry emails. Amongst the emails flying in during that period was one from “K. Somerville”, a name I immediately recognised. I had followed Keith Somerville via his @KSAfricaHack Twitter handle for a few years, and I had seen him to be a formidable intellectual force on matters of conservation and the complexities of African politics, economics and history. I opened the email with trepidation – had I slipped up somewhere?
It was a massive relief to find that Keith just wanted to speak with me about the media approach to trophy hunting and Cecil. I wasn’t entirely convinced that a man who had spent three decades living in Africa covering African events for the BBC, and who now wrote extensively on conservation in Africa, would gain much insight from talking to me but he was keen, so we set up a call. I am sure that I gained far more insight from what turned into a 2-hour chat than he did but, nonetheless, following that first call we continued to speak about conservation and Africa right up until his death in September 2024.
A more fulsome description of Keith’s life can be found on his Wikipedia page, but as a thumbnail sketch, Keith’s own words work well: he was, as he introduced himself to me, a “World Service journalist and political scientist/historian of Africa with a strong interest in and knowledge of human/political aspects of conservation”. I thoroughly recommend reading all his books, especially Africa's Long Road Since Independence and the masterful Ivory: Power and Poaching in Africa. His other works are listed below, including the posthumous publication of his book on rhino.
Instead of repeating biography that can be found elsewhere, I’d like to share a few memories of Keith that will give those of you that didn’t know him a small flavour of the man. Hopefully, for those that did know him, such memories may spark off your own reminisces.
One phone call with Keith particularly sticks in my mind. We had been discussing over email the problem of anthropomorphism in conservation, with the idea of developing some thoughts on the BBC Dynasties series into a scientific paper (something that did eventually happen). We got sidetracked early on and spoke at some length about a rather diverse range of topics. At one point, I recall Keith telling me, not for the first time I should note, about the time he punched Boris Johnson repeatedly during a rugby match. I also recall asking him about some African politicians whose careers (and in at least one case, demise) were pertinent to the bigger picture of conservation in the region. It turned out, as was not unusual, that Keith had met these men and interviewed them, and his insights were, as always, incredibly valuable. As we got the point where we both had other things to do, we realised that we hadn’t really discussed what we supposed to be talking about. Keith’s BBC editor’s brain kicked in, and within 2 minutes the salient points and a narrative thread were swiftly identified and writing assignments set. The first draft of the paper swiftly followed.
I recall another time, in a wood in Buckinghamshire, where a casual question had sparked a lengthy and fascinating discussion. Keith managed the deer in a woodland that was being restored, and I had the great pleasure of accompanying him on numerous management walks. I was writing a piece on the problems of fences in Africa, and I was keen to get Keith’s insights. Keith always brought along a little extra lunch to these outings, so over a sausage roll I set him up, in best BBC interviewing style, with some balls he could hit. And hit them he did. In the glorious setting of an English autumn woodland, Keith wove a tale that combined history, geography, economics, sociology, biology, ecology and pretty much every other discipline to give an ordered, entertaining, engaging and deeply insightful woodland lecture on the thorny issue of fences in Africa. After that, whenever we met up, I made sure that I always had a “big question” up my sleeve.
Keith could be a forthright man and, whilst I generally dislike the phrase, he didn’t suffer fools gladly. I saw that side of him on Twitter, especially during a phase many of us in the sustainable use scientific community refer to as “the great thread”. He felt that those with ill-formed opinions, unwilling to consider evidence and alternative viewpoints, can be dangerous, and wasn’t afraid to say so. The last time I spoke to him we had both been asked to review a piece of writing. Neither of us thought too highly of it, but I was trying to be diplomatic, or optimistic at least, about its potential. After carefully listening to my assessment, Keith replied with “I hear what you’re saying, but I think I am just going to stick with telling them it’s rubbish”. As with many things, he wasn’t wrong.
I had hoped to have Keith come in to teach on a module I am delivering on Wildlife Crime this autumn. Ivory poaching is such an important case study that I felt I had to have him as a guest. He, generous as always, readily agreed, but as August started to advance, and we settled down to decide a date, he told me that “there might be a fly in the ointment”. He was, he confided, a little concerned about his health. Not much more than a month later, he died.
At Keith’s funeral, the hole he left was achingly apparent. His was very much a life well lived, and a life that touched a great many people in different ways. I will miss him greatly. As he would have doubtlessly signed off, A Luta Continua.”
- Professor Adam Hart, University of Gloucestershire