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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