Ya Nangoloh And The Tying Down Of Gulliver

OUR democracy has moving foundations.

And the ongoing feud between our “enfant terrible” Phil ya Nangoloh and the founding President Sam Nujoma has taken a dimension with far-reaching consequences, notably the way we structure our debate about democracy. A spat between the founding President and a civil society actor would evidently solicit both good and bad press for our country in terms of its internal politics, especially the consolidation of its young democracy.Ya Nangoloh raised many issues before and many of those seem to be superfluous and in no way advance intellectual discourse or the developmental agenda of this country.Therefore, my interest in his work only relates to his submission to the International Criminal Court and how our responses to that submission structure and (or) decompose our democratic process.We can construct the debate around the submission in a plurality of perspectives.By way of a forceful disclaimer, I am not providing a potent defence of Ya Nangoloh, but to paraphrase Voltaire, Ya Nangoloh’s right to say things within the framework of our laws must be defended.Therefore, we should unpack this submission from various sides of the intellectual Potomac.First, the most obvious response would be that the submission (dealing with human rights abuses) is displeasing to the image that Sam Nujoma cultivated, both as a liberation hero and founding President of Namibia.It is not the route that many of us would want to see the founding president of a democracy.Thus, I comprehend unambiguously the speed with which many threw their toys out of the cot in response.Anger and normative responses would most probably be one of the easier ways of dealing with this issue.It is the response that Swapo chose, and most recently the National Union of Namibian Workers.Yet, as a society that believes in democracy, or so we claim, such a submission and more importantly our responses to it is one of many litmus tests for our young democracy.More specifically, for the ruling party as a hegemonic formation and guarantor of the democratic space, its response to such a sensitive subject is indeed crucial how we, and others, perceive democratic consolidation in this country.It is then of particular concern if the statements that come from the Secretary General of the ruling party and most recently the secretary general of the National Union of Namibian Workers provide more heat than light.In fact, they border on the hysterical.Even if an explanation or a satisfying response to Ya Nangoloh is inevitably complex and messy, we won’t succeed with austere or emotive appeals to the “threat or instability” posed by such a submission.We will only succeed if we are intellectually comprehensive in our responses.In doing so we need to interrogate ourselves, notably the way in which we construct debates (if at all we do) in this country.After all, much of what lies at the heart of the chaotic exchanges between Ya Nangoloh and the ruling Swapo elite is an unresolved historical issue.It is here where Ya Nangoloh’s submission finds in my view a level of relevance.A priori, the question that should have been posed instead of the post-facto responses would be: “How did we get to the level of the ICC in the discourse around the detainee issue?” To argue that Phil ya Nangoloh ought to have chosen the same route for the perpetrators of apartheid crimes is opting for an empty debate policy and not dealing with the matter at hand.As individuals, we respond and frame issues and pursue available options based on our subjective experiences.Admittedly, we can’t fault Ya Nangoloh choosing the route of the ICC, for our democratic franchise provides such scope.Such a submission is in no way abuse of our democratic space and it consequently does not deserve demagogic responses.On the contrary, the submission serves to consolidate the space that was created by Swapo as an agent of change through the liberation struggle and ultimately a free Namibia.It is Swapo’s commitment to justice, and at independence to a democratic order, that should allow such a submission not to be seen as a threat to peace.If it does, then we should find such solutions in our constitutional franchise.On the whole, this submission is a lucid reminder about the empty debate policy that permeates our politics.As Namibians, we are convinced about not having discussions on issues of national importance.I believe that we lost an opportunity to constructively engage the detainee issue (as sensitive as it is) in the 1990s.This would have provided more substance to our “policy of national reconciliation”.The discussion around the detainee issue, which is one of restorative justice, was demanded and refused by the ruling party through a top-bottom policy that was never the subject of robust discussions.A policy is meaningless if it is not the result of substantive discourse by affected parties.The threat to our peace that we try to elicit from Ya Nangoloh’s submission is not as big a threat as our empty debate policy and political power constraining discussions.Our evasive nature extends to many issues such as tribalism, meritocracy etc.Government didn’t have a comprehensive position on the Herero Genocide of 1904 until it faced the obvious embarrassment of a German minister invited by affected communities.Similarly, when a minister is supposedly worried not to make an appointment because the two candidates submitted to his office are of his minority tribe, it inadvertently means that there is an issue that warrants a sober discussion.Yet, we will continue to duck until such a time when things become muddled.It is only through a culture of open debate and proactive engagement that we are likely to arrive at substantive conclusions and sustainable responses to issues of national concern.Our democracy has moving foundations and demands leading with political awareness and skill; understanding other people’s concerns so that we can influence and persuade them.Because part of the moral of the story that comes out of the Ya Nangoloh submission is that we need to start to listen to contradictory voices, hear uncomfortable things about ourselves, our past.The enemy to our peace is not Ya Nangoloh per se, but the haste with which we dismiss each other.In short, our collective inability to discuss and debate issues candidly.In light of the absence of robust engagement in everyday or strategic discourse, I am compelled to understand this submission by Phil ya Nangoloh as a desperate measure by one of the many Lilliputians of our politics, who have no other way of tying down Gulliver.* Alfredo Tjiurimo Hengari is a PhD fellow in political science at the University of Paris-Panthéon Sorbonne, France.A spat between the founding President and a civil society actor would evidently solicit both good and bad press for our country in terms of its internal politics, especially the consolidation of its young democracy.Ya Nangoloh raised many issues before and many of those seem to be superfluous and in no way advance intellectual discourse or the developmental agenda of this country.Therefore, my interest in his work only relates to his submission to the International Criminal Court and how our responses to that submission structure and (or) decompose our democratic process.We can construct the debate around the submission in a plurality of perspectives.By way of a forceful disclaimer, I am not providing a potent defence of Ya Nangoloh, but to paraphrase Voltaire, Ya Nangoloh’s right to say things within the framework of our laws must be defended.Therefore, we should unpack this submission from various sides of the intellectual Potomac.First, the most obvious response would be that the submission (dealing with human rights abuses) is displeasing to the image that Sam Nujoma cultivated, both as a liberation hero and founding President of Namibia.It is not the route that many of us would want to see the founding president of a democracy.Thus, I comprehend unambiguously the speed with which many threw their toys out of the cot in response.Anger and normative responses would most probably be one of the easier ways of dealing with this issue.It is the response that Swapo chose, and most recently the National Union of Namibian Workers.Yet, as a society that believes in democracy, or so we claim, such a submission and more importantly our responses to it is one of many litmus tests for our young democracy.More specifically, for the ruling party as a hegemonic formation and guarantor of the democratic space, its response to such a sensitive subject is indeed crucial how we, and others, perceive democratic consolidation in this country.It is then of particular concern if the statements that come from the Secretary General of the ruling party and most recently the secretary general of the National Union of Namibian Workers provide more heat than light.In fact, they border on the hysterical.Even if an explanation or a satisfying response to Ya Nangoloh is inevitably complex and messy, we won’t succeed with austere or emotive appeals to the “threat or instability” posed by such a submission.We will only succeed if we are intellectually comprehensive in our responses.In doing so we need to interrogate ourselves, notably the way in which we construct debates (if at all we do) in this country.After all, much of what lies at the heart of the chaotic exchanges between Ya Nangoloh and the ruling Swapo elite is an unresolved historical issue.It is here where Ya Nangoloh’s submission finds in my view a level of relevance.A priori, the question that should have been posed instead of the post-facto responses would be: “How did we get to the level of the ICC in the discourse around the detainee issue?” To argue that Phil ya Nangoloh ought to have chosen the same route for the perpetrators of apartheid crimes is opting for an empty debate policy and not dealing with the matter at hand.As individuals, we respond and frame issues and pursue available options based on our subjective experiences.Admittedly, we can’t fault Ya Nangoloh choosing the route of the ICC, for our democratic franchise provides such scope.Such a submission is in no way abuse of our democratic space and it consequently does not deserve demagogic responses.On the contrary, the submission serves to consolidate the space that was created by Swapo as an agent of change through the liberation struggle and ultimately a free Namibia.It is Swapo’s commitment to justice, and at independence to a democratic order, that should allow such a submission not to be seen as a threat to peace.If it does, then we should find such solutions in our constitutional franchise.On the whole, this submission is a lucid reminder about the empty debate policy that permeates our politics.As Namibians, we are convinced about not having discussions on issues of national importance.I believe that we lost an opportunity to constructively engage the detainee issue (as sensitive as it is) in the 1990s.This would have provided more substance to our “policy of national reconciliation”.The discussion around the detainee issue, which is one of restorative justice, was demanded and refused by the ruling party through a top-bottom policy that was never the subject of robust discussions.A policy is meaningless if it is not the result of substantive discourse by affected parties.The threat to our peace that we try to elicit from Ya Nangoloh’s submission is not as big a threat as our empty debate policy and political power constraining discussions.Our evasive nature extends to many issues such as tribalism, meritocracy etc.Government didn’t have a comprehensive position on the Herero Genocide of 1904 until it faced the obvious embarrassment of a German minister invited by affected communities.Similarly, when a minister is supposedly worried not to make an appointment because the two candidates submitted to his office are of his minority tribe, it inadvertently means that there is an issue that warrants a sober discussion.Yet, we will continue to duck until such a time when things become muddled.It is only through a culture of open debate and proactive engagement that we are likely to arrive at substantive conclusions and sustainable responses to issues of national concern.Our democracy has moving foundations and demands leading with political awareness and skill; understanding other people’s concerns so that we can influence and persuade them.Because part of the moral of the story that comes out of the Ya Nangoloh submission is that we need to start to listen to contradictory voices, hear uncomfortable things about ourselves, our past.The enemy to our peace is not Ya Nangoloh per se, but the haste with which we dismiss each other.In short, our collective inability to discuss and debate issues candidly.In light of the absence of robust engagement in everyday or strategic discourse, I am compelled to understand this submission by Phil ya Nangoloh as a desperate measure by one of the many Lilliputians of our politics, who have no other way of tying down Gulliver.* Alfredo Tjiurimo Hengari is a PhD fellow in political science at the University of Paris-Panthéon Sorbonne, France.