Political Index Feature

The trouble with Malawi politics

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“Everything about great leadership radiates from character,” says Dave Ulrich, professor of business at the University of Michigan, USA. So, one would not be perceived as a great leader unless they score high on character.

Neither would one govern properly if they do not follow through on commitments; nor make decisions with the good of the governed in mind, rather than personal agenda; nor open and transparent; nor treat others with respect; nor look at others through a positive lens; nor look to collaborate rather than compete.

These are some of what John H. Zenger and Joseph Folkman in The Handbook for Leaders: 24 Lessons for Extraordinary Leadership identify as the key elements of strong personal character.

Yet, not only Malawi but Africa’s history is replete with low-character heads that are at the heart of lacklustre achievement of most African countries since independence.

They are the reason an average Malawian family still struggles to put food on the table and educate their children 48 years after taking themselves out of the orbit of colonialism.

Malawians have had in the late Hastings Kamuzu Banda, Bakili Muluzi and late Bingu wa Mutharika leadership that evidently portrayed executive arrogance. In fact, to analyse the three former presidents, it becomes genuinely incapable of uttering a single sentence that is not a cliché.

The three personalised State power, lacked sense of confidence and sought vain glories in such trivialities as titles, praise-singing or blind loyalty. They were suspicious, and ready to pounce and strive on any imagined enemy on whom at times they spent a lot of energy.

William Golding’s novel Lord of the Flies precisely explains how this beast of fear of unknown in low-character heads such the three comes to define – in some cases corrodes further – their character and political culture until their dignity and authority wanes and waxes.

In the novel, the boys allow themselves to be terrorised by a beast they create because deep down they want it to exist. By creating a physical object to represent everything they are afraid of, the boys can base their fears on something external and distant, rather than on something close and personal.

When they first arrive on the island, the boys have many implied fears: fear of being left on the island, fear of being on their own without adult assistance and fear of what may be occurring in the war (World War II) from which they have fled. As a result, they all embrace the concept of the beast, for it is a way to externalise their fears. What the boys want is something they can fear in good conscience, some evil that does not stem from their own personal experience. So they place their fear outside themselves and believe in a beast.

Jack sums up the reason externalised fear is so much easier to deal with than internal fear when he says: “If there was a snake we we’d hunt it and kill it.” It is a simple question of power. The boys never would have thought that they were responsible for the appearance of the beast, but they did believe they could be responsible for its death or destruction.

If the beast is something that can be destroyed, there is the potential that everything can turn out all right; the possibility that all the evil that the boys perceive on their island could be purged with the removal of this one creature.

In one sense, Jack’s cause is a noble one: purifying his world of evil. However, he goes about looking for the beast in all the wrong places, and as a result, the boys commit several horrible crimes. In fact, part of Golding’s message is that to “fancy thinking the Beast was something you could hunt and kill” is really catering to the true inner beast itself.

As the Nazis set out to exterminate the Jews, and Stalin the freedom of the individual, the boys create the beast as a safety net, an outside evil that protects them from the knowledge of their true nature as fallen creatures or “beasts” themselves.

But the development of the beast in Lord of the Flies is not an unusual one. It remains a serious disease that does not seem to have an immediate cure among ‘leaders’ that fall short on emotional and intellectual intimacy.

Barely six months into power, President Joyce Banda has already worn an air and sense of arrogance towards her fellow citizens; therefore, fails to identify Malawi’s real dangers and goals to address.

And unlike high-character leaders who, according to Zenger and Folkman, “try new things and adjust rapidly to changing environments” and “look for feedback and act on it”, Banda looks for a beast or a scapegoat to destroy to solve the country’s problems.

Awhile, the populace celebrated after she took the reins of power following the death of Mutharika on April 5 2012. Gradually, however, the circle of monopolisation of the State media, repudiation of the critical voice, the thumping of mediocrity such as traditional leaders and the personification of power that characterised her predecessors’ regimes has resurfaced.

Banda’s remark at two recent campaign rallies in Mzimba Central and Mzimba South West constituencies is the most revealing case study that can be useful for illustrating this point.

Before the rallies to present, Banda has been pressed on her excessive travels both internationally and locally, especially the 40-plus entourage—that included traditional leaders and some People’s Party (PP) cadres—accompanying her to the recent UN Assembly in the US. 

The sentiment across the sweeping ranks is: That is one best example of extravagant expenditure patterns by the President in these economic hard times ordinary Malawians are going through after the devaluation and floatation of the kwacha by her PP-led government.  It is an unnecessary waste of taxpayers’ money that negates the austerity drive government has engaged in.

Surprisingly,  Banda at both rallies dismissed those that find it unfair that their tax should find its way into wrong pockets while they sail against the prevailing tidal economic wave as undesirable elements comprising the 10 percent Lilongwe and Blantyre urban dwellers. She vowed to continue trekking, taking some guests on board as she cares more for the 85 percent rural citizenry. Perhaps a step too far.

Certainly, there is no formidable documentary evidence to her claim that the majority rural are unconcerned over her unwarranted voyages.

Banda’s reaction resulted from the beast of fear of unknown that prevents her from assuming her heavily taxed ‘Lilongwe and Blantyre’ critics have good intentions rather than bad. They want her to ensure that their contribution to the public purse is used prudently to benefit all citizens in equal measure.

A celebrated Chinese philosopher Confucius says: “The real fault is to have faults and not try to mend them.” And only great leaders in Ulrich’s sense strive to mend their faults.

Banda will be such a great leader not by being an absolute, but if she realises that Malawi belongs to all who live in it and governs based on the will of the people.

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