[Mwananchi] The First Generation of African Nationalist Leaders; OTO asks, African revolution, is it possible?

George Ayittey wrote:

Folks,

Africa’s post colonial story is a bitter and painful tale of betrayal. The first generation of African nationalist leaders waged an arduous struggle in the face of formidable obstacles, enduring hardships and brutalities, in order to win independence for their respective countries. Many of these leaders were hounded by the white colonialists and jailed. But the jail terms and colonial repression did not extinguish African aspirations for freedom. So when Africa gained its independence from colonial rule in the 1960s, the euphoria that swept across the continent was infectious. It was best evinced by the late Dr. Kwame Nkrumah, the first black president of Ghana. "We shall achieve in a decade what it took others a century and we shall not rest content until we demolish these miserable colonial structures and erect in their place a veritable paradise," he declared exuberantly (Nkrumah, 1957, 34).

Nkrumah stood tall in the pantheon of Africa’s first generation of nationalist leaders. As the leader of Ghana – the first black African country to attain its independence from white colonial rule (Actually, Sudan was the first in 1956 but collapsed into civil war) – Nkrumah set the example for the rest of Africa. He inspired and aided many other African liberations movements. He offered Ghana as a sanctuary for other leaders struggling against white colonial rule. Robert Mugabe of Zimbabwe, for example, took up this offer.

This aspect of Nkrumah’s legacy and the role of the other nationalist leaders in the decolonization and liberation of the African continent are indisputable. Whole books have been written about these, as well as their collective struggle against apartheid in South Africa. African will forever be grateful and hold them in high esteem for their role. But the DOMESTIC record in terms of GOVERNANCE was execrable. Nkrumah, Nyerere, Kaunda and the others drove their respective countries into an economic sump. The exceptions were truculently few.

In country after country, those nationalist leaders who won freedom for their respective countries were hailed as heroes, swept into office with huge parliamentary majorities, and deified. Currencies bore their portraits. They built statues to honor themselves. As “Fathers” of their nations, criticizing them became sacrilegious. After he succeeded Jomo Kenyatta in 1978, Moi shaped the nation of 31 million, with his image and name, dominating every facet of society for the 22 years he was in office:

"Moi's face is etched on the country's currency. The state-run evening news begins every night by saying, "His Excellency President Daniel arap Moi announced today . . . " There is a national holiday called Moi Day. Dozens of schools, hospitals, bridges and roads are named after Moi. There is Moi University, Moi Girls' School, Moi International Airport. Every business is required by law to hang his framed photograph (The Washington Post, Nov 19, 2002; p.A15).

But Kenyans derided Moi's name as standing for "My Own Interest”. Indeed, African leaders’ notion of "the people" does not extend beyond the immediate confines of their extended families or tribesmen. "Government" is their private preserve, its key positions filled with their relatives, cronies and kinsmen. Very quickly, the freedom and development promised by Nkrumah and other African nationalists transmogrified into a melodramatic nightmare.

In many countries these nationalist leaders soon turned out to be crocodile liberators, Swiss bank socialists, quack revolutionaries and grasping kleptocrats. After independence true freedom never came to much of Africa. Nor did development. Said Moeletsi Mbeki, Chairperson of the South African Institute of International Affairs, and brother of President Thabo Mbeki:

"The average African is poorer (now) than during the age of colonialism. Whereas colonialists had developed the continent, planted crops, built roads and cities, the era of uhuru had been characterized by capital flight as the elite pocketed money and took it outside their countries. Among them were the late Nigerian dictator Sani Abacha. The money Abacha had plundered had been discovered in Switzerland . . . In the 1960s African elites/rulers, instead of focusing on development, took surplus for their own enormous entourages of civil servants without plowing anything back into the country. The continent's cash crops, like cocoa and tobacco, were heavily exploited by the state-run marketing boards with farmers getting little in return.” (The Mercury, Sept 22, 2004. Web posted: http://www.themercury.co.za/index.php?fSectionId=283&fSetId=169

In a Sessional Paper (No.10 of 1963/65), the Kenyan Government asserted that:

"In African society a person was born politically free and equal and his voice and counsel were heard and respected regardless of the economic wealth he possessed. Even where traditional leaders appeared to have greater wealth and hold disproportionate political influence over their tribal or clan community, there were traditional checks and balances including sanctions against any possible abuse of power. In fact, traditional leaders were regarded as trustees whose influence was circumscribed both in customary law and religion. In the traditional African society, an individual needed only to be a mature member of it to participate fully and equally in political affairs (paragraph 9).

At the Pan African Congress in Mwanza, Tanzania, in 1958, the delegates shrilly wailed over the fact that: "The democratic nature of the indigenous institutions of the peoples of West Africa has been crushed by obnoxious and oppressive laws and regulations, and replaced by autocratic systems of colonial government which are inimical to the wishes of the people of West Africa" (quoted in Langley, 1979; p.740). It demanded that: "The principle of the Four Freedoms (Freedom of speech, press, association and assembly) and the Atlantic Charter be put into practice at once...Democracy must prevail throughout Africa from Senegal to Zanzibar and from Cape to Cairo" (quoted in Langley, 1979; p.741). The Congress stoically resolved to "work for the establishment and perpetuation of true parliamentary democracy in every territory within the African continent”. It vowed an "uncompromising safeguarding of liberty of every citizen irrespective of his race, colour, religion or national origin.” The Conference declared publicly that it was "dedicated to the precepts and practices of democracy”. It made it plain that "The safeguards and protection of citizen's rights and human liberties will be buttressed by:
a. Uncompromising adherence to the Rule of Law
b. Maintenance of the absolute independence of the Judiciary
c. The exercise of the right to vote or stand for any office and
d. The constant observance of the declaration of the Universal Human Rights and the United Charter.
Further, the Congress called "upon the Government of East and Central Africa to remove all legal restrictions against the freedom of the press and particularly condemns the unjust prosecution and convictions which have taken place in some of these Territories against the African press in particular" (quoted in Langley, 1979; p.742).

Treacherously after independence, the Pan Africanists failed to establish these lofty principles and ideals (democracy, the vote, freedom of the press, of assembly, etc.). In 2004, only 16 out of the 54 African countries had multiparty democracy. The Banjul Charter of Human and People’s Rights in 1965 was for show. Freedom of the press, of speech and of political association was rarely upheld by the nationalist leaders. Nor did they build upon the "democratic nature of the indigenous institutions of the peoples of Africa”.

Suddenly after independence, the same African nationalist leaders and elites, who railed Western misconception about Africa were singing a different tune. Democracy was now a "colonial invention" and therefore alien to Africa. For example, according to Kwame Nkrumah of Ghana, an insidious dogma propagated by the imperialists was that "Western democracy and parliamentary system are the only valid ways of governing; that they constitute the only worth-while model for the training of an indigenous elite by the colonial power" (Nkrumah, 1968; p.8). Democracy an "imperialist dogma?"

Then the Kenyan government, after independence, suddenly decided that, in African society, a person was no longer born free and equal and his voice and counsel were not to be heard unless he belonged to KANU - the sole legal party. Participation in the political decision-making process, regardless of wealth and political affiliation, was not African after all. Claiming that democracy was alien, many other modern African leaders justified the imposition of autocratic rule on Africa. They declared themselves "presidents for life", and their countries to be "one party states”. Military dictators pointed to the warrior tradition in tribal societies to provide a justification for their rule, while other African dictators claimed that the people of Africa did not care who ruled them. Most of these claims, of course, betrayed a rather shameful ignorance of indigenous African heritage.

Professor Eme Awa, the former chairman of Nigeria's National Electoral Commission (1987), vigorously challenged these claims:

"I do not agree that the idea of democracy is alien in Africa because we had democracy of the total type the type we had in the city states where everybody came out in the market square and expressed their views, either by raising their hands or something like that (West Africa, Feb. 22, 1988; p.310).

In a similar blistering rebuttal, Ellen Johnson Sirleaf, the ex Finance Minister of Liberia in 1985 86, retorted:

"They tell us that democracy is a luxury in Africa; that a multi party political system is inappropriate to our traditions; that the electoral process is foreign to our heritage and that participatory politics is potentially exploitative of our masses. Such rubbish is repeated in one form or fashion by even some of our renowned continental leaders. But we know and can see clearly through their attempts to halt the development of political institutions merely to perpetuate themselves in power. This social African legacy has led to succession only through the barrel of a gun a legacy which now threatens us with two political forces the military and the civilian, the latter with no means to ensure full political choice or expression. Add to this a growing disguised military as a political force in the form of civilianized soldier and we will realize how much behind Africans are falling in this important aspect of national development. (Index On Censorship, May 1987; p.14).

After independence, African nationalist leaders did not only deny their people political participation but also muzzled them as well. In Africa's so-called "backward and primitive" system, the people could express their views and wishes freely without fear of arrest or detention by their chiefs. But after independence and for much of the postcolonial period, this freedom of expression insidiously vanished in much of Africa. Recall that in 2003, only 8 out of 54 African countries have freedom of the press and of expression: Benin, Botswana, Cape Verde Islands, Ghana, Mali, Mauritius, Sao Tome & Principe and South Africa. Seventeen are partly free and the rest labor under brutal intellectual repression. Said an irate Fred M'membe, editor of The Post, Lusaka, Zambia:

“Our leaders are incapable of being criticized without feeling rancor. When people say it is alien to our African culture to criticize leaders, they forget that in our traditional past even chiefs or kings were the subject of satirical orations and ribaldry. Even the ruthless Zulu dictator Chaka could be criticized openly. Now try to make some of our leaders the subject of satirical orations and ribaldry and see what happens to you. In their mistaken belief, it is “Western” to have freedom of the press and freedom of expression, which leaves us stuck in a culture of zealous leader worship – a culture which would look primitive is the eyes of our ancestors. The acceptance of criticism implies the highest respect for human ideals, and its denial suggests a conscious or unconscious lack of humanity on our part. Intolerance must surely rank as one of the worst forms of immorality in human affairs, yet our modern African societies have established a reputation for intolerance that is difficult to match. Until our leaders redress the imbalance between selfish pursuit of power and concern for the human lives they are elected to protect, between arrogance and self-respect and humility, between intolerance and mutual tolerance, we will forever be marching backwards in very long strides. (Jan 5, 2004. Web posted at www.zamnet.zm/zamnet/post/)

For many Africans, the "paradise" promised them turned out be a starvation diet, unemployment, and a gun to the head. Disaffection and alienation set in. A spate of coups quickly swept across Africa in the early 1960s. The first occurred in the Belgian Congo on September 15, 1960, barely three months after independence. In West Africa the first coup occurred in Togo on January 13, 1963. Between 1963 and February 1966 there were 14 significant cases of military intervention in government. By 1968 there had been 64 attempted and successful interventions across Africa (Decalo, 1976, 6).

The first generation of coup leaders in the 1960s were professional soldiers who brooked zero tolerance for corruption, inefficiency, government waste, and mismanagement. They threw out the elite bazongas (raiders of the public treasury), cleaned up the government house, instilled discipline in the civil service, and returned to their barracks. They were hailed as "saviors" and idolized by the people.

The second generation of military rulers, who assumed control in the 1970s, emerged from the dregs: They were more corrupt, incompetent, and brutal than the civilian administrations they replaced. They ruined one African economy after another with brutal efficiency and looted African treasuries with military discipline. Africans watched helplessly as they experienced yet another betrayal. This second batch of "military coconut-heads," as Africans call them, came from the bottom of the pit and left wanton destruction and carnage in their wake. Said Guinea's opposition leader, Mamadou Ba, describing his country's head of state, General Lansana Conte: "He wouldn't hurt a fly, but he has nothing upstairs" (The News & Observer, 4 January 1998, 18A).

The longer they stay in office, the less they have "upstairs," becoming "hardened coconuts." One of them, V.I. Okafor, a retired Nigerian army Captain, confessed: "We are perceived as a class of marauding mediocres, vast in wastefulness, corruption and all sorts of vicious behavior a class devoid of men of honor and integrity, a class enveloped in infamy" (The Vanguard, 14 July 1998, 2).

Back in 1978 Edem Kodjo, then Secretary General of the Organization of African Unity (OAU), echoed the sentiments of many Africans when he solemnly lamented before the African heads of state gathered for an OAU summit that, "Our ancient continent is now on the brink of disaster, hurtling towards the abyss of confrontation, caught in the grip of violence, sinking into the dark night of bloodshed and death" (Lamb 1983, xi).

Since then, things have gotten progressively worse. By the beginning of the 1990s, it was clear something had gone terribly wrong in Africa. The continent was wracked by a never-ending cycle of civil wars, carnage, chaos, and instability. Economies had collapsed. Poverty, in both absolute and relative terms, had increased. Malnutrition was rife. In addition, censorship, persecution, detention, arbitary seizures of property, corruption, capital flight, and tyranny continuously plagued the continent.

Infrastructure had decayed and crumbled in much of Africa. Roads, schools, and telecommunications systems were in shambles. In Kenya, "The road to Mombasa, the port on which Kenya (and some of its neighbors) depends, has in places been washed away. What used to be a five-hour journey from Mombasa to Nairobi now takes 2 days" (The Economist, 18 April 1998, 42). In the Democratic Republic of the Congo, a single road and a single rail line handle virtually all the vast country's seaborne imports at the port city of Matadi. Along a third of the road, asphalt has crumbled away. In the dry season, trucks lumber over the 225 miles in two days, averaging less than 5 miles per hour. During the 1997 rains, it took three weeks to travel the route (The Washington Post, 14 September 1998, A16).

Empty bookstore shelves greeted visitors to university campuses. Many school buildings showed obvious signs of decay and disintegration. Most buildings had not even seen a coat of paint since the colonialists departed. The quality of education had deteriorated sharply. Nigeria's 38-school university system, for example, was in ruins. Students could not get books. Nor could professors do research. Ahmadu Bello University is one such facility in a dilapidated state. Dormitories are overcrowded, laboratories lack chemicals to perform experiments, and some buildings are collapsing.

A similar decrepit situation prevails at the University of Nairobi, which according to Kenyan scholar, Michael Chege, has become a war zone, a run-down collection of buildings that lack the most basic educational materials and serve as the setting for occasional attacks by government security forces on protesting students. The seedy buildings of the university are characterized by dilapidated floors, broken and unwashed windows, stuck elevators, buckets in hallways to catch rainwater as it leaks through the ceilings, broken desks, and sullen faces. "The university is not hooked into the internet, and sometimes it lacks even such basics as books and paper. Employees complain about a lack of prescription drugs in the university's clinic. For a campus of nearly 10,000 students, there are few usable toilets, and those that exist are in a deplorable state (The Chronicle of Higher Education, 23 January 1998, B9).

When the vice-chancellor of a major Nigerian university wanted to resign, he called a press conference. As Linus U. J. Thomas-Ogboji, a Nigerian scholar based in Asheville, described it: "His reasons for abandoning the job are a pathetic commentary on the putrid demise of a once-promising nation: admission and grades were being sold openly; dormitories for adolescent females had become brothels; threats of death and mayhem by gangs were rife on a campus that had gone without electricity or running water for years" (African News Weekly, 26 May 1995, 6).

A similar decrepid situation was described by a Ghanaian university student, Foster Koduea:

"The University of Ghana, Legon, established in the [1950s] with very comfortable accommodations, beautiful buildings and surroundings, is now in a deplorable state. A room meant for two students is now used by six students and a room which is supposed to be used by three or four students is now inhabited by eight to ten students. At Legon Hall most of the rooms are very congested and hardly is there room for free passage. Lecture halls are congested" (Focus, 13-20 February 1995, 4).

In most places in Africa, telephones do not work; they "bite back." Electricity and water supplies are sporadic. What are called roads are often passageways truncated by crevasses large enough to swallow a truck. Hospitals lack food and medical supplies. Doctors even have difficulty finding paper on which to write prescriptions. Often patients are requested to bring their own blankets and bandages. Communicable diseases such as yellow fever, malaria, and cholera -- once believed vanquished -- have reappeared with a vengeance.

The leaders were oblivious to these and continued to bask in the glory of the liberation era. They had completely lost touch with their people, as Kenyan columnist Henry Ochieng, pointed out:

“After the attainment of independence, many of these "heroes" grew into quarrelsome old men. They could not understand why their rabble-rousing speeches no longer elicited the same awe, or never had the selfsame electrifying effect on the masses. They also refused to understand why the people could not identify with their desire to die in power (and many actually did realize that desire). They were caught in a time warp. Most of these old politicians failed to move with the people. The people, after independence quickly wanted to get to the next stage from liberation that the independence struggle was all about, while the leaders continued to bask in the euphoria of kicking out the colonial master. For them, it was a continuous party that could only end with their death. So, when talk of popular revolt against them begun to waft through the air, their only response was to become repressive - hoping they could suppress the clamor for change. They failed”. (The Monitor [Kampala], Jan 22, 2003; p.4).

In an unusual editorial, The Independent newspaper in Ghana wrote: "Africa today is politically independent and can be said to have come of age but apart from Thabo Mbeki and Yoweri Museveni, we are sorry to openly admit that most of our leaders have nothing to offer except to be effective managers for the IMF and serve as footnotes to neocolonialism. Most of the leaders in Africa are power-loving politicians, who in or out of uniform, represent no good for the welfare of our people. These are harsh words to use for men and women who may mean well but lack the necessary vision and direction to uplift the status of their people (The Independent, Ghana, July 20, 2000; p.2).

Some may not like this indictment but it is a brutally frank assessment. We may praise Africa’s first generation of nationalist leaders for standing up to and fighting the white colonialists to win independence for their people. But their domestic record was terrible. Robert Mugabe is the epitome of this script. Sure he was a liberation HERO but look at his domestic record or GOVERNANCE.

George Ayittey,
Washington, DC