Towards A Vision Of A Just Society?
By: Opinion - André du PisaniAll that I know is, your philosophy and your teaching will not save me. Now, father, you have brought me to this. Save me by some other means! Charles Dickens: Hard Times.
THE above quotation from Charles Dickens' celebrated novel, Hard
Times, that more than any other literary work in English exposed
the savagery and squalor of the Industrial Revolution, comes from
Louisa giving vent to her sorrows.
With a little imagination, the Dickensian language and imagery
lend themselves well to our present state of politics, or so we
have been led to believe by Alexactus Kaure writing in The Namibian
of Friday, February 04, 2005.
The incoming Pohamba presidency has given rise to opinions and
reflections that diverge strongly in terms of their expectations
and understanding of what the transition could mean for our country
and its people.
This brief article has been greatly stimulated by the ideas of
two such recent contributions.
In a philosophically well-anchored offering, Alexactus Kaure,
dissected the "Double-Edged Legacy" of Nujoma.
Kaure's reading of the history of the past fifteen years is
ultimately grim and without hope.
He concludes that "Nujoma will be remembered as the President
who was unwilling or unable to learn from history and has
squandered a historical window of opportunity to make his country
one of the greatest" (Kaure, 2005:7).
Kaure argues cogently that the Nujoma legacy needs to be viewed
within two distinct periods and contexts; the pre-independence
period with its heroic rendition of history and the
post-independence period, that on his analysis amounted to "a
repudiation of much of the former".
The problem does not lie with his periodisation of the legacy,
rather with the near-absence of context that shaped both of these
periods.
What could have been a fine piece of analytical writing was
ultimately marred by a poorly drawn context.
Why did Nujoma, on Kaure's reading of history, deny much of the
"commitment, vision, dedication, comradeship, heroism and
sacrifice" that characterized his first period, in the
post-independence period? Part of the answer, arguably a
significant part, is to be found in the very nature of the
transition to independence, the character of the Namibian State,
the bitter mental inheritance of colonial rule, the personality
traits of Nujoma and the difficulty of sustaining radicalism in a
context of neo-liberal economics.
At a deeper level, one is tempted to ask; "Was there a vision of
a just society"? Yes, I know that Swapo Party of Namibia has
"Justice" as one of its core virtues together with "Solidarity" and
"Freedom".
Assuming that there was/is indeed such a vision of a just
society, (some would refer to NDP1, NDP2 and Vision 2030, among
others) why was it not brought to life? Given real policy content?
The answer to this difficult question probably lies at many
different levels.
By its very nature, the negotiated transition to independence
and the Constitution that it spawned, amounted to the politics of
accommodation writ large.
Moreover, the Constitution constituted (for that is what
constitutions do) a liberal democratic State.
Liberal democratic states by their very nature are minimalist
and not interventionist.
The character of the State was imbued with the politics of
accommodation in the form of national reconciliation (I hesitate to
call it a policy, for it is shot through with contradictions and
empty rhetoric) and nation-building.
Both 'national reconciliation' and nation-building have become
elite projects.
The more disturbing part of the answer may lie in the absence of
a vision of a just society.
It may also be the case that there is a disjuncture between law
and justice.
Of course it would be preferable if law and justice went hand in
hand, and every citizen from the first to the last, respects the
moral obligation to balance law and justice.
The deeper, and tougher, question is "what is a just person?" Is
he/she a law-abiding citizen? No, since the law may be unjust.
Someone who abides by moral law? That is Kant's answer, but it
begs the question, for what is moral law? If moral law did exist
and if we knew what it was, we would have less need for just
people; justice would suffice.
Elegant indeed as Kant's answer was, Plato had a more practical
reading of justice: justice does not make just people; just people
make justice.
If indeed, we live in a manifestly unjust and unequal society
(the Human Development Index shows the statistical picture, the
reality is much worse), all of us should take collective moral and
practical responsibility for abiding by just laws and actively
working towards greater equality and fairness.
The absence of meaningful empowerment of the previously
disadvantaged and currently disadvantaged citizens of our society -
such as the landless and the rural and urban poor - is our
collective failure and responsibility.
It is simply unfair to burden one person with the subjection and
destitution of the poor, under- and unemployed in our country.
While the politics of 'national reconciliation' undoubtedly
contributed towards much needed confidence-building in the
immediate aftermath of war termination, it did little for social
justice.
Inherently and unintentionally perhaps, 'national
reconciliation' functioned as a prison of sorts; it constrained
governmental intervention (even in respect of matters that needed
redress) and kept the politics of race alive.
In this, the country has yet to see a serious open debate about
the inextricable connections between race, redress and
capitalism.
At a moral level, however, there is much to say in support of
President Nujoma's notion of 'nation reconciliation'.
One is reminded of Francis Bacon's celebrated phrase: "In taking
revenge, a man is but even with his enemy; but in passing it over,
he is superior".
In politics, there is nothing so urgent as the desire for
revenge (witness the recent post-extraordinary Swapo Congress
events), and there is nothing so sweet as the angry pleasure it
gives once enacted.
In our own past, the impulse to revenge is an impulse to
justice, but it is a primitive one, and although its intention may
be to restore a balance (as for example in calls for more
meaningful and faster land redistribution or in a more extreme
form, the recent land redistribution in Zimbabwe), its personal and
emotional basis often threatens to make it too harsh and punitive,
therefore inviting further revenge.
To his credit, Nujoma instinctively understood this danger, for
society cannot function if individuals are left to seek redress on
their own (some of our politicians take note); justice cannot be a
matter of private enterprise.
Recognition of this fact culminates in establishing institutions
of justice and just laws, with incorruptible officials to oversee
their proper and just application, and with due form and process as
a protection against whatever forces might prevent their
functioning.
It takes magnanimity - that great word Anglicised from magna
anima meaning 'great soul' - to rise above revenge.
When someone who seems to have every reason in the world to seek
revenge - Sam Nujoma (for how were he and Swapo demonized by the
former apartheid colonial regime), does not do so, the example set
is deeply impressive ...
For 'No revenge is more honourable than the one not taken', says
the Spanish proverb.
This brings me briefly to the idea of Justice itself.
Of the key virtues, justice is probably the only one that is an
absolute good in itself.
Prudence, temperance, and courage are only virtues when they
serve good ends, either directly or else by promoting other
virtues.
Prudence, temperance, and courage in the service of injustice or
evil would, in the famous text of Immanuel Kant, not be virtues,
merely talents or temperament.
Justice is a good in itself.
We Namibians must do our duty, pay our taxes, work hard,
tolerate and respect others, but never at the expense of justice or
in opposition to it.
How can we at the same time be dutiful and unjust, since duty
presupposes justice - indeed duty is justice itself, in the form of
requirement and obligation.
Justice is the boundary that defines all other virtues (such as
generosity, politeness, courage and love), the principle that
allows them to coexist.
One of the problems in our country is that many Namibians often
pay lip service to justice and its correlate, fairness.
For many Namibians, those outside the social cachet, the story
of the present and the future is much the same as the story of the
past.
The 'Gucci' struggle elite is seemingly more interested in the
accoutrements of power and status; what they wear and drive, rather
than in the wellbeing of their fellow citizens.
This phenomenon, however, is not limited to Namibia, world-wide
one witnesses what the sociologists call in German, the rise of
'Seele aus Eis' (Souls made of Ice).
It seems increasingly difficult to practice a culture of care
(witness our Government's feeble official response to the victims
of Tsunami).
One of the most insightful and fresh offerings on the paradoxes
that could accompany the transition to the Pohamba presidency, was
provided by Alfredo Tjiurimo Hengari.
Writing in The Namibian of Friday, February 11 2005, Hengari
wrote with clarity, elegance and subtlety about the contours and
trajectory of transition politics in our country fifteen years
after independence.
In essence, Hengari posits that incoming President Pohamba,
would display a leadership style that 'would be hybrid
transactional and laissez-faire'.
Borrowing from French political experience, with its preference
for conceptual and historical analysis, Hengari employs, with great
effect, the language of French political discourse; 'laissez-faire'
and 'cohabitate'.
As a student reading for a doctorate at the celebrated
University of Paris-Sorbonne, he is well versed in the academic
language that pertains in France and on the European Continent.
My concern here is not with matters of language, although
language matters much ... I wish to make a different argument.
The contours of Hengari's argument runs briefly as follows: a
Pohamba presidency "would cohabitate in its initial years with the
Party presidency under the emblematic figure of Sam Nujoma".
Since it was Nujoma who initiated Pohamba's succession he
(Nujoma) "would define the finer contours of his presidency".
Logically, this would make for continuity and reflect shades of
the father of the nation.
The argument then takes a different turn, when Hengari posits
that Nujoma's "leadership style was largely transformational for he
was not so much a coordinator or manager, but rather an inspirer
and visionary".
He created his own story. On the contrary, Pohamba's leadership
would "not be transformational, thus not so much initiating a
vision, but could assume a double movement".
Hengari then introduces the notion of a "laissez-faire approach"
(more especially in relation to the Party presidency).
Nevertheless, a Pohamba Presidency will have to "put more
emphasis on the substantive outputs of our democracy".
A Pohamba government would, of necessity rather than choice,
become more deliberative, more responsive to basic human needs,
ultimately more reflective, more managerial.
The above argument rings true and has been made
compellingly.
It is also true that detribalization is, as Mahmood Mamdani
showed, "the mere starting point in the reorganisation of the
bifurcated power created by the colonial power".
The reality in post-apartheid Namibia, however, is that we are
witnessing disturbing signs of ethnic entrepreneurs at work, both
within the hegemonic formation (as represented by Swapo) and in the
ranks of other groups.
Hengari is aware of this phenomenon and rightly warns against
the "shadow theatre of ethnicity" (a term borrowed from
Jean-Francois Bayart) and its consequences for the nation-building
project.
Why ethnic impulses are on the rise, and who drives such
tendencies (primordialists or instrumentalists?), however, is less
clear from his presentation.
My own initial response to this question is that the neo-liberal
project is essentially based on elite pacts to the exclusion of
vulnerable groups.
The nation-building project, too, has generated its own
contradictions, especially since it has tended to consolidate the
hegemony of the governing party - assisted in no small measure by
the reality of neo-patrimonialism that has been flourishing under
the Nujoma Presidency.
Neo-patrimonialism meant that it was almost inconceivable to
accede to power and influence outside the tutelage of the 'Old
Man'.
It established an organic relationship between positions of
public power and private accumulation and made our new political
elites predatory.
The controlled recycling of elites - another phenomenon of the
Nujoma presidency - was very much part of it.
If this feature of our politics does not get arrested, then
Namibia runs the risk of descending into a predatory recycled
kleptocracy.
All of the above begs the question; would Pohamba be able and
willing to break with this corrosive cycle? Would merit,
competence, principled loyalty (as opposed to blind loyalty) and
sheer hard work triumph over incompetence and nepotism? Above all,
does the Pohamba presidency have a practical and emancipatory
vision of a just society? Do we have state and societal capacity
and the collective will to realize such a vision? Will Pohamba make
Namibia and Namibians great?
NOTES:
* Kaure, Alexactus Kaure "Nujoma's Double-Edged Legacy will he
go down in history as a reactionary or a revolutionary?" in The
Namibian, Friday, February 4 2005, pp. 6-7.
* Hengari, Alfredo Tjirimo "A Pohamba Presidency: Between
Continuity and Fragmentation", in The Namibian, Friday, February 11
2005, pp. 6-7.
* André du Pisani teaches politics and philosophy at The
University of Namibia (UNAM). The views expressed in this article
are his own.
With a little imagination, the Dickensian language and imagery lend
themselves well to our present state of politics, or so we have
been led to believe by Alexactus Kaure writing in The Namibian of
Friday, February 04, 2005.The incoming Pohamba presidency has given
rise to opinions and reflections that diverge strongly in terms of
their expectations and understanding of what the transition could
mean for our country and its people.This brief article has been
greatly stimulated by the ideas of two such recent contributions.In
a philosophically well-anchored offering, Alexactus Kaure,
dissected the "Double-Edged Legacy" of Nujoma.Kaure's reading of
the history of the past fifteen years is ultimately grim and
without hope.He concludes that "Nujoma will be remembered as the
President who was unwilling or unable to learn from history and has
squandered a historical window of opportunity to make his country
one of the greatest" (Kaure, 2005:7).Kaure argues cogently that the
Nujoma legacy needs to be viewed within two distinct periods and
contexts; the pre-independence period with its heroic rendition of
history and the post-independence period, that on his analysis
amounted to "a repudiation of much of the former".The problem does
not lie with his periodisation of the legacy, rather with the
near-absence of context that shaped both of these periods.What
could have been a fine piece of analytical writing was ultimately
marred by a poorly drawn context.Why did Nujoma, on Kaure's reading
of history, deny much of the "commitment, vision, dedication,
comradeship, heroism and sacrifice" that characterized his first
period, in the post-independence period? Part of the answer,
arguably a significant part, is to be found in the very nature of
the transition to independence, the character of the Namibian
State, the bitter mental inheritance of colonial rule, the
personality traits of Nujoma and the difficulty of sustaining
radicalism in a context of neo-liberal economics.At a deeper level,
one is tempted to ask; "Was there a vision of a just society"? Yes,
I know that Swapo Party of Namibia has "Justice" as one of its core
virtues together with "Solidarity" and "Freedom".Assuming that
there was/is indeed such a vision of a just society, (some would
refer to NDP1, NDP2 and Vision 2030, among others) why was it not
brought to life? Given real policy content? The answer to this
difficult question probably lies at many different levels.By its
very nature, the negotiated transition to independence and the
Constitution that it spawned, amounted to the politics of
accommodation writ large.Moreover, the Constitution constituted
(for that is what constitutions do) a liberal democratic
State.Liberal democratic states by their very nature are minimalist
and not interventionist.The character of the State was imbued with
the politics of accommodation in the form of national
reconciliation (I hesitate to call it a policy, for it is shot
through with contradictions and empty rhetoric) and
nation-building.Both 'national reconciliation' and nation-building
have become elite projects.The more disturbing part of the answer
may lie in the absence of a vision of a just society.It may also be
the case that there is a disjuncture between law and justice.Of
course it would be preferable if law and justice went hand in hand,
and every citizen from the first to the last, respects the moral
obligation to balance law and justice.The deeper, and tougher,
question is "what is a just person?" Is he/she a law-abiding
citizen? No, since the law may be unjust.Someone who abides by
moral law? That is Kant's answer, but it begs the question, for
what is moral law? If moral law did exist and if we knew what it
was, we would have less need for just people; justice would
suffice.Elegant indeed as Kant's answer was, Plato had a more
practical reading of justice: justice does not make just people;
just people make justice.If indeed, we live in a manifestly unjust
and unequal society (the Human Development Index shows the
statistical picture, the reality is much worse), all of us should
take collective moral and practical responsibility for abiding by
just laws and actively working towards greater equality and
fairness.The absence of meaningful empowerment of the previously
disadvantaged and currently disadvantaged citizens of our society -
such as the landless and the rural and urban poor - is our
collective failure and responsibility.It is simply unfair to burden
one person with the subjection and destitution of the poor, under-
and unemployed in our country.While the politics of 'national
reconciliation' undoubtedly contributed towards much needed
confidence-building in the immediate aftermath of war termination,
it did little for social justice.Inherently and unintentionally
perhaps, 'national reconciliation' functioned as a prison of sorts;
it constrained governmental intervention (even in respect of
matters that needed redress) and kept the politics of race alive.In
this, the country has yet to see a serious open debate about the
inextricable connections between race, redress and capitalism.At a
moral level, however, there is much to say in support of President
Nujoma's notion of 'nation reconciliation'.One is reminded of
Francis Bacon's celebrated phrase: "In taking revenge, a man is but
even with his enemy; but in passing it over, he is superior".In
politics, there is nothing so urgent as the desire for revenge
(witness the recent post-extraordinary Swapo Congress events), and
there is nothing so sweet as the angry pleasure it gives once
enacted.In our own past, the impulse to revenge is an impulse to
justice, but it is a primitive one, and although its intention may
be to restore a balance (as for example in calls for more
meaningful and faster land redistribution or in a more extreme
form, the recent land redistribution in Zimbabwe), its personal and
emotional basis often threatens to make it too harsh and punitive,
therefore inviting further revenge.To his credit, Nujoma
instinctively understood this danger, for society cannot function
if individuals are left to seek redress on their own (some of our
politicians take note); justice cannot be a matter of private
enterprise.Recognition of this fact culminates in establishing
institutions of justice and just laws, with incorruptible officials
to oversee their proper and just application, and with due form and
process as a protection against whatever forces might prevent their
functioning.It takes magnanimity - that great word Anglicised from
magna anima meaning 'great soul' - to rise above revenge.When
someone who seems to have every reason in the world to seek revenge
- Sam Nujoma (for how were he and Swapo demonized by the former
apartheid colonial regime), does not do so, the example set is
deeply impressive ...For 'No revenge is more honourable than the
one not taken', says the Spanish proverb.This brings me briefly to
the idea of Justice itself.Of the key virtues, justice is probably
the only one that is an absolute good in itself.Prudence,
temperance, and courage are only virtues when they serve good ends,
either directly or else by promoting other virtues.Prudence,
temperance, and courage in the service of injustice or evil would,
in the famous text of Immanuel Kant, not be virtues, merely talents
or temperament.Justice is a good in itself.We Namibians must do our
duty, pay our taxes, work hard, tolerate and respect others, but
never at the expense of justice or in opposition to it.How can we
at the same time be dutiful and unjust, since duty presupposes
justice - indeed duty is justice itself, in the form of requirement
and obligation.Justice is the boundary that defines all other
virtues (such as generosity, politeness, courage and love), the
principle that allows them to coexist.One of the problems in our
country is that many Namibians often pay lip service to justice and
its correlate, fairness.For many Namibians, those outside the
social cachet, the story of the present and the future is much the
same as the story of the past.The 'Gucci' struggle elite is
seemingly more interested in the accoutrements of power and status;
what they wear and drive, rather than in the wellbeing of their
fellow citizens.This phenomenon, however, is not limited to
Namibia, world-wide one witnesses what the sociologists call in
German, the rise of 'Seele aus Eis' (Souls made of Ice).It seems
increasingly difficult to practice a culture of care (witness our
Government's feeble official response to the victims of
Tsunami).One of the most insightful and fresh offerings on the
paradoxes that could accompany the transition to the Pohamba
presidency, was provided by Alfredo Tjiurimo Hengari.Writing in The
Namibian of Friday, February 11 2005, Hengari wrote with clarity,
elegance and subtlety about the contours and trajectory of
transition politics in our country fifteen years after
independence.In essence, Hengari posits that incoming President
Pohamba, would display a leadership style that 'would be hybrid
transactional and laissez-faire'.Borrowing from French political
experience, with its preference for conceptual and historical
analysis, Hengari employs, with great effect, the language of
French political discourse; 'laissez-faire' and 'cohabitate'.As a
student reading for a doctorate at the celebrated University of
Paris-Sorbonne, he is well versed in the academic language that
pertains in France and on the European Continent.My concern here is
not with matters of language, although language matters much ... I
wish to make a different argument.The contours of Hengari's
argument runs briefly as follows: a Pohamba presidency "would
cohabitate in its initial years with the Party presidency under the
emblematic figure of Sam Nujoma".Since it was Nujoma who initiated
Pohamba's succession he (Nujoma) "would define the finer contours
of his presidency".Logically, this would make for continuity and
reflect shades of the father of the nation.The argument then takes
a different turn, when Hengari posits that Nujoma's "leadership
style was largely transformational for he was not so much a
coordinator or manager, but rather an inspirer and visionary".He
created his own story. On the contrary, Pohamba's leadership would
"not be transformational, thus not so much initiating a vision, but
could assume a double movement".Hengari then introduces the notion
of a "laissez-faire approach" (more especially in relation to the
Party presidency).Nevertheless, a Pohamba Presidency will have to
"put more emphasis on the substantive outputs of our democracy".A
Pohamba government would, of necessity rather than choice, become
more deliberative, more responsive to basic human needs, ultimately
more reflective, more managerial.The above argument rings true and
has been made compellingly.It is also true that detribalization is,
as Mahmood Mamdani showed, "the mere starting point in the
reorganisation of the bifurcated power created by the colonial
power".The reality in post-apartheid Namibia, however, is that we
are witnessing disturbing signs of ethnic entrepreneurs at work,
both within the hegemonic formation (as represented by Swapo) and
in the ranks of other groups.Hengari is aware of this phenomenon
and rightly warns against the "shadow theatre of ethnicity" (a term
borrowed from Jean-Francois Bayart) and its consequences for the
nation-building project.Why ethnic impulses are on the rise, and
who drives such tendencies (primordialists or instrumentalists?),
however, is less clear from his presentation.My own initial
response to this question is that the neo-liberal project is
essentially based on elite pacts to the exclusion of vulnerable
groups.The nation-building project, too, has generated its own
contradictions, especially since it has tended to consolidate the
hegemony of the governing party - assisted in no small measure by
the reality of neo-patrimonialism that has been flourishing under
the Nujoma Presidency.Neo-patrimonialism meant that it was almost
inconceivable to accede to power and influence outside the tutelage
of the 'Old Man'.It established an organic relationship between
positions of public power and private accumulation and made our new
political elites predatory.The controlled recycling of elites -
another phenomenon of the Nujoma presidency - was very much part of
it.If this feature of our politics does not get arrested, then
Namibia runs the risk of descending into a predatory recycled
kleptocracy.All of the above begs the question; would Pohamba be
able and willing to break with this corrosive cycle? Would merit,
competence, principled loyalty (as opposed to blind loyalty) and
sheer hard work triumph over incompetence and nepotism? Above all,
does the Pohamba presidency have a practical and emancipatory
vision of a just society? Do we have state and societal capacity
and the collective will to realize such a vision? Will Pohamba make
Namibia and Namibians great? NOTES: * Kaure, Alexactus Kaure
"Nujoma's Double-Edged Legacy will he go down in history as a
reactionary or a revolutionary?" in The Namibian, Friday, February
4 2005, pp. 6-7.* Hengari, Alfredo Tjirimo "A Pohamba Presidency:
Between Continuity and Fragmentation", in The Namibian, Friday,
February 11 2005, pp. 6-7. * André du Pisani teaches
politics and philosophy at The University of Namibia (UNAM). The
views expressed in this article are his own.