Monday, 29 August 2016

There’s a dose of criticism that builds; there’s another that kills


I have in my possession a brochure bearing the title The House of Commons: A Brief Guide. It was not on my schedule to read this small work today, for I am reading Richard Holbrooke’s To End a War, inside which is this brochure (I am not sure how it got there), and to this, my attention was quickly drawn. It says something about the House of Commons that makes me feel like we are not doing enough on the freedom of expression front in our democracy.

The brochure starts with a kind of confession, namely that visitors to the House of Commons could, in a way, feel betrayed by its small size—the chamber has seating accommodation for only 437 (some say 427) of the 659 (as for period 1997-2005, though now the number is 650) Members of Parliament, forcing many members to stand around the Speaker’s chair during major debates and statements. And despite this ‘small’ size, the Speaker of Parliament then had this pride to share: “It is truly a debating chamber, where every Member is free to express his or her own view on a matter, and where opposing arguments can be expressed frankly and passionately. We value the vigorous nature of debate in the House of Commons—it is a reflection and a reminder of our nation’s democratic principles.”

I am not sure we can boast the same of our Chamber as far as the freedom and power of debate is concerned. Unfortunately, that is not my subject; my subject is whether some criticism can indeed work to serve the interest of nation building, and if yes, what nature and level such criticism should assume in order to benefit both the ruled and those ruling them.

Nelson Mandela in his great work The Autobiography of Nelson Mandela: Long Walk to Freedom, offers an interesting lesson on the power of being at the receiving end of criticism and the benefits one derives from the same. He talks of his experience in the palace of Jongintaba, a Xhosa Paramount Chief in Thembuland, the man who had adopted Mandela at nine soon after the death of Mandela’s father. At page 29, Mandela says this of the meeting between the regent and his amaphakathi—the core of the Chief’s parliament and judiciary: “At first, I was astonished by the vehemence—and candor—with which people criticised the regent. He was not above criticism—in fact, he was often the principal target of it. But no matter how flagrant the charge, the regent simply listened, not defending himself, showing no emotion at all.” Mandela goes on to say the regent waited till the end to speak, to sum up consensus among the diverse opinions. He adds, saying that no conclusion was forced on those who disagreed, and that if no agreement was reached, another meeting was scheduled.

In prison and outside it, Mandela was known for his calmness, and honesty on issues. I believe, he learnt all that from what he observed from his elders on how they handled criticism.

On July 6, we celebrated 52 years of Independence. If we were a people who learn from history, this coming 9 September would be a day to remind ourselves of 52 years of failure to cultivate in ourselves a culture of constructive debate and tolerance, for I strongly believe it to be the main reason great men and women who fought as a unit for Independence fell apart only weeks after attaining the independence status in what is described as the Cabinet Crisis. Our inability to reflect on where we went wrong in that a nation sharing so much suffering in making our Independence could so soon after turn on each other and could not forgive and come back as one people even as I speak is scandal, great scandal indeed. During this year’s Independence prayers, the clergy requested for healing; I believe true healing should take into account a time of reflection on where we went wrong in the first place, and possibly, how we can truly say sorry to those we hurt in the course.

Some leaders in the world have learnt the painful way that a world without criticism is a poisoned chalice to power.

Late John Frederick Kennedy, the 35th President of the United States, is one great man I respect in history. One event in his life reminds me some people can really learn from their mistakes or history. On November 8, 1960, Kennedy, young, handsome, charismatic, and above all, intelligent, was voted into power with 34,226,731 votes against 34,108,157 for Richard Nixon of the Republican Party. Of course, following this, Kennedy won an Electoral College majority of 303 to 219.

Kennedy did his mathematics subtracting 34,108,157 from 34,226,731, and the answer was a mere 118,574 votes. Richard Reeves in his book President Kennedy: Profile of Power says, “Over the next three years, he (Kennedy) often stuck a slip of paper into his pocket to remind himself of that tiny popular vote margin: 118,574 votes.” He did this to remind himself 34 million people had voted against him, and so had to work hard to convince those 34 million people.

He was intelligent in this regard, but sometimes too much intelligence can destroy. One communication theory that explains why a gathering of all-intelligent people is a recipe for disaster is known as Group-think Theory by Irving Janis. Strangely, this theory was born out of one folly by this same man I have just described as intelligent, JF Kennedy.

In April 1961, Kennedy sent 1,400 invading forces to Cuba to overthrow Fidel Castro in what is described as the Bay of Pigs invasion. The decision was a catastrophe.

Janis tried to find an answer on why a man they all thought was intelligent could make a decision so grave. He thus looked at the people who had surrounded Kennedy when that decision was being made, and concluded that it all went awry because there was no element of dissent or criticism at that table.

Janis says Kennedy, himself a charismatic leader, had surrounded himself with a cream of thinkers, blue-ribbon group of thinkers who believed they could never go wrong as a group. In that group was Secretary of Defense, Robert McNamara, a man of high standing in the American society and former President of Ford Motor Company; Dean Rusk, Secretary of State and former head of Rockefeller Foundation, another man of high standing in the American society; McGeorge Bundy, the National Security Advisor, himself former Dean of Arts and Sciences at Harvard University; Arthur Schlesinger, an outstanding historian from Harvard; and Robert Kennedy, President’s Kennedy’s brother and US Attorney General.

Janis argues that this group of great thinkers did not allow room for criticism within themselves because each falsely believed they were the best group in America, driven by invulnerability, standing for US morality and representative of everything correct. But what happened? The invasion was beaten right on the shores by 20,000 Fidel Castro’s waiting soldiers. Most of the invasion soldiers were killed and the rest were sent to prison camps. Later the embarrassed US was to send Cuba food and medical supplies worth $53 million for Castro to release them. According to Janis, that poor decision making by a group that had believed it had a vast collective intellect to bear on any governmental decision became the reason Castro (or later through his brother) has outlived almost ten US Presidents.

It is important to note that a lot of facts pointed to possible failure yet these educated men assumed that everything would work in their favour. According to Em Griffin in A First Look at Communication Theory, p. 223, at one point Schlesinger had expressed doubt over the success of the invasion but the Attorney General, the whole legal advisor of the state, waved it away: “You may be right or you may be wrong, but the President has made his mind up. Don’t push it any further. Now is the time for everyone to help him all they can.”

Following that disaster, Kennedy learnt in a terrible way dissent should be part of any policy or political system if it is to be protected from making one-sided, jaundiced decisions of dangerous consequences. Too late though, Kennedy encouraged dissent and said he would guarantee external criticism or evaluation as part of his decision-making process.

You would think the US learnt a lesson from this. Not at all—politics never learns from mistakes. In 2003, George Bush attacked Iraq on the pretext that Saddam Hussein had stockpile of weapons of mass destruction. To ‘win over’ dissent to this war, and to ensure he gave no room to criticism, George Bush said, “You are either with us or against us in the fight against terror.”

And a few weeks ago, a report by Sir John Chilcot, on UK’s involvement in that war pointed to many issues bordering on detestation of dissent by the leadership. For example, the report says the intelligence presented was not challenged, and should have, that there was little questioning on the decision, and consequences of the invasion were underestimated. Among the recommendations of the report are (1) ministerial discussion which encourages frank and informed debate and challenge is important; and (2) in future, all aspects of any intervention need to be calculated, debated and challenged with vigour.

Political parties in Malawi have always demonstrated Group-think sickness where anyone showing any mind to the contrary faces total ridicule or the chop. The old UDF, at the height of power, dismissed Commerce and Industry Minister, Reverend Peter Kaleso, and descended on Joe Manduwa, Jap Sonke and others, for openly refusing to support the Third Term bid. Strangely, the current President of the PP, Uladi Mussa, then UDF Regional Governor for the Centre, had described Kaleso’s dismissal as a big lesson for insubordination. The new MCP, and at its helm is a man conversant with the high principles of tolerance to dissent as taught by Christ, seems never able to learn that he who receives dissent with dignity stands to win. Unfortunately, the picture the MCP is giving us is that they are children of the same father but cannot eat from the same plate. The damage this is causing them cannot be put in figures, and with this, to convince some of us otherwise will be an uphill task. And I would not say of the DPP and their ability to absorb criticism, I think Winiko has a better tale to tell on this.

Our refusal to absorb dissent saw us fracturing ourselves in September 1964. In 1971, our abhorrence to dissent saw Kamuzu (for he was part of Parliament) declare himself life President in 1971 following a similar declaration by delegates at a party convention in 1970. The spirit that keeps persuading us that only we are the best sent the once mighty UDF into the path of self-destruction—surrendering power to a guest at the expense of veterans therein. Today, Winiko, a man with fangs of jokes and nothing more, has received the ‘punishment of dissent’ for walking semi-nude in red rags before the Malawi public. I cannot believe there are no people who know some decisions simply defy logic, but I believe they all want to be seen to belong to the ‘right’ group. Fifty-two years of Independence, no lessons learnt.

Malawi is a great nation no matter what some funny writers say about her. All we need to do is put politics behind us and work as one people to leave behind a telling legacy for our children and for generations unborn. Let us learn to criticize one another in a spirit of mildness and tolerance, and where we offend one another, let us never fear to offer apologies for the good and health of this great nation. Let our leaders, men and women we pray for, guide us in believing in ourselves and in carrying dissent with a heart receptive. At the same time, let us distinguish the dissent that aims to destroy from the dissent that has a heart to perfect things for the good of all. The former is divisive and dangerous, the latter constructively healthy. We would do better to go for the latter.


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