I HAVE A DREAM: Devolution of Power In Africa (Reflections)
By A Special Correspondent, Latrikunda The Gambia
Today is Tobaski Day (Eid, the feast of the mutton for Muslims) in The Gambia and I want to share with the readers of this esteemed online newspaper: The Gambia Echo, a scene I witnessed at the Pipeline Mosque pray grounds, which inspired me to take my pen and write this short essay. At the outset, I would like to state that, within the frame of this essay, The Gambia is just a case study, a departing point that, by the same token, sadly illustrates the fact that the ills that affect this beautiful and peaceful country, also affect most—if not all—modern African countries. One more point in my preliminaries: most readers will notice that I took the cue of this essay’s caption from Dr. Martin Luther King’s famous speech in Washington, D.C., a little over four decades ago.
What did I witness today? I was seated not far behind from the Imam Ratib of the Pipeline Mosque this morning during Tobaski prayers when, suddenly, former Gambian President sir Dawda Kairaba Jawara came in with his retinue, along with two uniformed military State Guards who watch over him and assure his safety. I will add right away that the presence of this military escort was superfluous and unnecessary, to say the least. It was obvious that all the people sitting there and wearing their most beautiful garbs are indeed peaceful, peace-loving and came on this most important spiritual day to carry out their religious devotions. Most importantly, there were seated almost four generations of Gambians and other nationalities, hosts of The Gambia, their age ranging from 90 to as little as 3 years old, boys and girls, almost toddlers accompanying their fathers to the prayer. This point bearing on age is important and the reader will see, later, in my development how important this generational stratification is to my argument. Anyway, after the usual and traditional salutations with the Elders and the welcoming members of the Mosque Committee, a chair was brought so that President Jawara could sit on it. I guess that, because of his advanced age, the required genuflexions for the prayer may be hard for him.
I was seated obliquely and could not help watching the old Statesman, draped in his beautiful and majestic white embroidered grand-boubou, with a matching white scull-cap. Yes, he was there, eyes closed, perhaps meditating, perhaps rewinding the film of his life as well as the lives of all those citizens seated around him but also, perhaps, reflecting on his own mortality, on the shortness of this life, on the great responsibilities of having led a country. His head was bowed down and one could see that the old man was in deep communion with some kind of higher spirit. At that very moment, he was just a mere mortal, among other mortals, a man, with qualities but who is also fallible like other human beings but he is not just like any ordinary human being: The man seated there, resembling a Shakespearean character, was the first President of this country, a man who fully took part in the decolonization process and led the country in the first three decades of its postcolonial life. The scene was thus tragic and poignant, like a Shakespearean play but it was also an emotional one, at once, for there was a man at the twilight of his life, who had had the destiny of a country in his hands for many decades but did not have the wisdom to leave when his time was up and thus wholly subscribing to Charles De Gaulle’s mantra to the effect that he would rather leave power five minutes earlier than five minutes too late. Yes, here was now a man, a former President, who is confronting and coming to terms with his own mortality, adding to that the sharp sermon of the Imam at the end of the prayer, warning his flock to do good and to be fearful and to know that sooner or later death will be knocking at the door of each one of us and to know that the Hereafter beckons and will be waiting.
At the end of the prayer, I followed President Jawara and his retinue out of the mosque; he entered his white Mercedes E200 and his chauffeur sped away, with his military escort in an SUV at the front of the convoy, all sirens blaring, off to his residence. On my way back home, I could not help thinking and meditating about the whole thing.
What is wrong with Africa? How come its leadership wants to cling to power by all means? I have a dream, what if President Jawara was wise enough to organize free and fair elections, let the Gambian people choose his successor and not him thinking that he was indispensable, that no one could lead the country after him? Then, in my wishful thinking, I said to myself that if this were to happen, then there would be no coup d’Etat and he would not have gone on exile to London, unnecessarily suffering there. What more beautiful scene than the one I witnessed today: Jawara praying and communing with all and sundry, rich and poor, male and female, young and old, with no fear or danger, sharing the warmth and the humanness of his fellow citizens? What if all of this was done in reverse? What if we could turn the clock backward with a magic wand?
All the African Presidents who clung to power have caused untold suffering and harm to their people: Mobutu of Zaire, Houphouet-Boigny of Cote d`Ivoire, and Eyadema of Togo who all passed away. Presently, many African Heads of State have been in power for 20 years or more and, of course, we must mention the doyen of African Heads of States, namely Omar Bongo of Gabon, who recently celebrated his 40 years in power. Thus, Presidents like Biya of Cameroon, Kaddafi of Libya, Deby-Itno of Chad, Moubarak of Egypt, Ben Ali of Tunisia, just to name a few, all have been in power for over 20 years and some of them are not even thinking of retiring. Some of them are also thinking of their son to replace them (that already happened in Togo with Eyadema and in the Democratic Republic of Congo with Kabila). At least one must give credit to the King of Morocco for he is a monarch and does not pretend being a Republican unlike those who profess to be Republicans but behave like monarchs.
More tragically, I have the impression that African Heads of State and politicians do not learn from history and the past but, sadly, it is as if there is this atavistic or genetic strain that is lodged somewhere in their bodies and make them behave as if the power bequeathed to them is of divine inspiration. In effect, come to think of it, some of them will tell you that our ancestors in the kingdoms of yore used to stay in power until they died, forgetting in the process that those were kingdoms, not modern Republics. In my humble opinion, these types of ideas are being entertained out of ignorance for these leaders do not know the African past well; they do not know the traditions for, in general, in some instances, what they perceive as being a tradition being invented by our ancestors may be true but these modern leaders have indeed a very selective memory when it comes to the traditions, conveniently selecting the most backward aspects of those traditions and presenting them as the real stuff. No, they are not the real stuff. There are good and bad aspects in any tradition, Africa inclusive. One good tradition that these modern leaders could have adopted is the following: in the ancient African kingdoms, yes there was a king but there were also centres of counter-power (checks and balances) such as assemblies of elders, of age-groups, of women, of youth, etc. So, the king could not just do as he wished. He had to take into account the viewpoints of those various assemblies. One last example: in the Wolof kingdom of Waalo in Old Senegal, the king’s sister (known as Linguere) was as powerful as his brother and the latter could not take major decisions (like declaring war for instance) without referring the matter, first, to his sister.
Lately, we have all witnessed a President like Obasanjo of Nigeria wanting to prolong his stay in power but was unsuccessful in his bid; he nonetheless was able to handpick and impose his successor. In Senegal, there are rumours to the effect that Abdoulaye Wade, the aging President, is planning to have his son succeed him, just like in a monarchy. Finally, one last example: just this week, in South Africa, the ANC held its Congress (by the way, Jacob Zuma was elected) in which the successor of Thabo Mbeki was going to be designated and whoever is at the helm of the ANC is almost the next President-designate of South Africa. Well, Mbeki has done his two terms (more precisely, he will finish in 2009). What then prevents him from stepping aside and let South Africans choose their next P resident and ANC leader instead of him manoeuvring and trying to stay in power?
I am going to conclude now and hope that I have not abused the patience of your readers. The debate bearing on the peaceful, smooth, and democratic devolution of power goes on and it is a duty for all Africans to vigorously take part in it so that we have an open debate about that important issue. In general, there is the lame excuse that since African States and Nations are young, having been independent just a little over 40 years ago, Africans leaders have the excuse of abusing power, of behaving like despots and tyrants, of not knowing democracy or of having their own version of a tropicalized-type of democracy. Of course, this argument does not hold water for it is intellectually corrupt, in addition to being preposterous for, we Africans, are not different from other human beings across the globe. True, we have our specificities (culture, languages, mores, etc.) like anyone else. However, we are also living in a modern and global age in the 21st century and thus share many features with the others. African leaders and politicians must truly learn not to stay in power beyond their ‘sell-by-date’; they must organize fair and free elections, assure a smooth transition and devolution of power after staying no more than two terms of four years each. Most importantly, old and older African leaders alike should prepare the younger ones, i.e., the next generation(s) to take over instead of clinging to power. It is at this juncture that the point I mentioned earlier about generational and inter-generational co-existence has all its relevance. It is only in this way that Africa will develop and be prosperous. In the meantime, however, as uttered by one character in Chinua Achebe’s A Man of the People (actually the very last line of that fine novel): We, Africans, have a long way to go.
HAPPY TOBASKI TO ALL!
By A Special Correspondent, Latrikunda The Gambia