Is democracy all it’s cracked up to be?

The Kigali Memorial Centre was opened in 2004, built on a site that also houses the graves of some 250 000 people slaughtered in the Rwandan genocide that took place a decade earlier. As I took in the permanent exhibition that can only hint at the story of how 800 000 people were killed in a hundred day period, I was at a complete loss in trying to understand how neighbours could turn on each other so quickly, so violently. I wondered about the much vaunted African principle of Ubuntu, our human interconnectedness: is this simply a mythical ideal that we sprout with hollow pride and nostalgia but in essence, we’re as selfish, atomised and disconnected as those in western societies?

The world ignored Rwanda from April to June 1994 when the genocide took place, focusing much more on the miracle nation down south which was hosting its first non-racial democratic elections in April too. By June 1994, Nelson Mandela had been inaugurated as President and his euphoric speech was still ringing around the globe:

The time for healing of the wounds has come. The moment to bridge the chasms that divide us has come. The time to build is upon us….We must therefore act together as a united people for national reconciliation, for nation-building, for the birth of a new world.

While ethnic groups were literally hacking each other to death in Rwanda, at the very same time, the reconciliation project unifying people across racial and ethnic divides had just begun in post-apartheid South Africa.

South Africa is about to celebrate its 17th Freedom Day marking the first elections on 27 April 1994, having been through a further three national elections in that time, and about to undergo its fourth local government elections in May. A Constitution has been adopted that guarantees freedom of association, freedom of expression and freedom of the media. Yet, at this very moment, there is a court case about whether the “struggle song”, Shoot the Boer, constitutes hate speech against Afrikaners. It has been given prominence by the leader of the ANC Youth League who was 8-years-old at the time of Nelson Mandela’s release from prison and so hardly a veteran of the struggle against apartheid! In this week too, six policemen have been charged with the murder of an unarmed man protesting against the lack of service delivery, his beating, shooting and subsequent death being broadcast around the world at a time when similar images are emanating from the non-democracies of Yemen and Syria. And while protests against the lack of service delivery take place around the country, a South African cabinet minister is exposed to have spent large amounts of public funds on a trip to his drug mule girlfriend in a Swiss prison and on stays in top Cape Town hotels, and is now also building a mansion for himself in an impoverished town in the Eastern Cape.

These three issues demonstrate just how little the national reconciliation project has progressed in South Africa, how far the country still has to go in transferring constitutional rights into reality and how high up greed and corruption go. But at least we’re having an election soon…!

In a December 2010 article by Andrew Mwenda of The Independent in Uganda, he states “The ANC in South Africa inherited a strong bureaucratic state with a well-developed and modern industrial economy, properly developed infrastructure, the best human resource pool on the continent and great international goodwill. The Rwandan Patriotic Front (RPF) inherited a backward economy that had collapsed, and a nation without a functional state. The pre-existing institutions of state had been dismembered, as over 90% of its human resources were dead, in jail or in exile. There was little international goodwill.”

Rwanda has hosted two Presidential elections since the genocide, with Paul Ngwane of the RPF winning his first seven-year term with 95% of the vote in 2003 and his second (and constitutionally final) term in 2010 with 98% of the vote. Ngwane and the RPF have been heavily criticised by local and international human rights organisations for their clampdown on the opposition, on the media and their absence of traditional democratic credentials.

According to Mwenda though, the lives of ordinary people in Rwanda have improved with 97% primary school enrolment, 75% having access to clean water and maternal mortality declining, all pointing to the effective pursuit of the Millennium Development Goals. The incidence of HIV in Rwanda has declined from 11% in 2000 to under 3% in 2010, with average life expectancy growing from 25 in 2000 to 52, ten years later. By contrast, South Africa’s average life expectancy declined from 62 before the ANC took power to around 50 last year, with a Harvard University study concluding that at least 330 000 people (nearly half of the number killed during the Rwandan genocide) died avoidable deaths during Thabo Mbeki’s reign. The study estimated that there was an average of 900 AIDS-related deaths per day in 2005, one year after the ANC was re-elected into power with more than 69% of the vote!

The point is that there is no relationship necessarily between democracy and the delivery of services to the poor, or the improvement in the lives of the majority. As Mwenda’s article also points out, India – the world’s largest democracy – has freedom indicators comparable to those of Norway and yet, in terms of public services such as access to education, health, clean water, health, etc, India is similar to failing states such as Bangladesh and Pakistan. China on the other hand, not exactly the world’s leading democracy, is the one country which according to the World Bank has made substantial gains in reducing poverty, lifting 600 million people beyond the threshold of those living on less than $1,25 per day over a 30 year period.

While best practice democracies can indeed be effective mechanisms for delivery of services and for the improvement of the lives of the majority, having the forms of democracy – free and fair elections, constitutionally protected freedoms and human rights, etc – can also be means of co-option and of quelling resistance. Where democracy essentially serves elites – as in South Africa – the masses are “voting fodder” to ensure the maintenance of the political vehicle that creates the conditions for the elite to prosper. The constant battles (literally) to be nominated for electoral positions within the ruling party in South Africa points less to a desire to serve the South African people than to the economic and lifestyle opportunities afforded to politicians given front row seats at the trough of public funds.

The pursuit of a democracy and of a democratic culture – as in North African and Middle Eastern states at the moment – is admirable and is to be encouraged, but the lessons from further south are that democracy is not a guarantee of substantial and progressive social transformation. It has to be accompanied by the nurturing of a culture that values the greater good rather than individual greed, that does not glorify crass materialism as signs of success, and that places people rather than profit or ideology or narrow political interests at the centre of the transformation programme.

New societies require new cultures.


NOTES
1. The views expressed in this column are entirely those of the writer and are not necessarily representative of any of the organisations in which he is involved.
2. This column may be forwarded by the recipient to any other interested party, and may be reproduced by any publication or website at no charge, provided that writer is acknowledged.
3. To engage with the content of this column or to provide feedback, go to www.mikevangraan.wordpress.com


Mike van Graan is the Secretary General of Arterial Network, a continent-wide network of artists, activists and creative enterprises active in the African creative sector and its contribution to development, human rights and democracy on the continent. He is also the Executive Director of the African Arts Institute (AFAI), a South African NGO based in Cape Town that harnesses local expertise, resources and markets in the service of Africa’s creative sector. He is considered to be one of his country’s leading contemporary playwrights.

For further information, see www.arterialnetwork.org, www.africanartsinstitute.org.za and www.mikevangraan.co.za

 

The Cultural Weapon

Are artists part of “the problem”?

During this week, Juliano Mer-Khamis, the founder and director of the Freedom Theatre in Jenin, Palestine, was assassinated. Shot dead in his car by masked gunmen. One tribute describes him as someone who was “totally committed to his belief that experience with art is a means to exercise freedom”.

Also this week, one of the most well-known (and outspoken) artists in China – Ai Weiwei – was detained by his government, and according to reports, like dozens of bloggers and dissidents arrested in the last few months, his name has just about been removed from the Chinese internet.

Meanwhile, in Cameroon, the musician Lapiro de Mbanga is to be released this week after serving three years in jail for his song “Constipated Constitution”, which was critical of the political status quo.

Are these artists exceptions? Or are they the ones we come to know about through international campaigns highlighting their bravery and consequent persecution?

Artists often have the image of being “other”, of not being “normal”, and are variously dismissed, marginalised or tolerated for being “creative”, for thinking differently, for not being conformist. And yet, for all the sometimes aspirational, sometimes “cool” status of being “unconventional”, artists – generally – can be pretty conservative, and, unless there is a counterhegemonic movement that has reached some kind of tipping point in which artists can find protection, we artists tend to align our interests with those of the status quo. Of course, we might think critically, we might even voice our criticisms around dinner tables, in pubs and in our dressing rooms, but when it comes to really speaking truth to power, and to acting it out in our creative work, we’re generally a cowardly lot!

Some would argue that artists are no different to other human beings and also have needs to pay the rent, put food on the table, pay school fees and deal with rising fuel costs. Why then, should artists be obliged to do and say things that could alienate those in power or those with resources or their primary middle-to-upper class audiences and markets who help to sustain their tenuous lifestyles?

No-one seeks to be a martyr for art or for freedom of expression or to go to jail or to embrace – relative - poverty by challenging those responsible for perpetuating injustices and inequities. But then, who will speak truth to power? What is the role of artists within any society? Is it any more than entertaining and giving pleasure to elites? To seek affirmation from audiences, critics, buyers and awards judges? To produce art of technical excellence, and to deliver it professionally?

The production and distribution of art does not happen in a social vacuum, nor on an island with no context. Theatre, music, dance, visual art, literature and film are created and distributed in national and global contexts characterised by vast inequities between rich and poor; by rabid discrimination on the basis of nationality, gender, sexual orientation, education, age and a host of other factors; by ongoing and massive environmental destruction and by violence – institutional, military and criminal – being wreaked on human life and dignity. Artists inhabit, and are influenced by this world. Whether we recognise it or not, our creative work, the choices we make about what we will say and how we will say it, our decisions about where our work will be shown (and thus who will have access to it) - these all contribute in some way to maintaining, reinforcing or challenging an economic, political and social status quo.

Embedded in our creative work, and in the institutions through which we distribute our work, are values, ideas, worldviews, ideological and moral assumptions that contribute (whether through silence or overt expression) in multi-layered ways to perpetuating or challenging hegemonic discourses and behaviour.

As artists we are taught that the arts are a reflection of our society, that the role of art is to hold up a mirror to our society. If we evaluate our work over the last number of years, what does our art say about our society, about the world we inhabit, about us? Whose stories do we tell? To whose music do we dance? Whose images do we put to canvas?

There are many arts-related organisations that do exemplary work: monitoring and exposing the suppression of freedom of expression; providing refuge to artists in exile; fighting for artists’ mobility against narrow nationalist economic and security concerns….But these are often led by arts managers and cultural policy activists rather than artists. My experience of artists is that they care little for matters beyond their own micro artistic practice, that they fail to read and try to understand the broader national and global context in which they work and the dialectic between their work (and the challenges they encounter) and the macro economic, political and social forces that impact directly or indirectly on the production and distribution of their work. Artists care little for cultural policies and make no effort to interrogate the international conventions and regional treaties that their governments sign, so that they have very limited understanding of both the possibilities (and responsibilities) that these bring. Artists are less likely to challenge government than to seek the blessing of political parties whom they believe will protect and advance their micro interests, even when decades of history prove otherwise.

It may seem unfair to lay a huge burden of “artivisim” on the shoulders of a sector that genuinely struggles with finding decent and regular work, but the truth is that the arts sector is a relatively privileged one.

The question is: in whose interests will we use our skills, our knowledge, our talents, our public profiles, our access to the media, our networks, our resources and our opportunities? How would the masses of people on the underside of contemporary history view artists? As part of their problem?


NOTES
1. The views expressed in this column are entirely those of the writer and are necessarily representative of any of the organisations in which he is involved.
2. This column may be forwarded by the recipient to any other interested party, and may be reproduced by any publication or website at no charge, provided that writer is acknowledged.
3. To engage with the content of this column or to provide feedback, go to www.mikevangraan.wordpress.com


Mike van Graan is the Secretary General of Arterial Network, a continent-wide network of artists, activists and creative enterprises active in the African creative sector and its contribution to development, human rights and democracy on the continent. He is also the Executive Director of the African Arts Institute (AFAI), a South African NGO based in Cape Town that harnesses local expertise, resources and markets in the service of Africa’s creative sector. He is considered to be one of his country’s leading contemporary playwrights.

For further information, see www.arterialnetwork.org, www.africanartsinstitute.org.za and www.mikevangraan.co.za
 

Cultural Weapon

The Cultural Weapon

Mike van Graan

Development as a destroyer of Culture

The Government of Uganda has decided that the Uganda National Museum - the country’s only national museum - will be demolished to make way for a 60-storey East Africa Trade Centre.  The proposed “ultramodern” building – which politicians suggest will take 3-5 years to complete but which will take closer to 30 years according to civil society activists and commentators familiar with such Ugandan  projects - will house the Ministry of Tourism, Trade and Industry, commercial retail outlets and office space.  Oh, and two floors will be allocated to a new national museum.

Established in 1908, the Museum is more than one-hundred years old and is thus itself a heritage site. 

This is a classic case of “development” versus “culture”, in much the same way as “development” has often destroyed the natural environment in the name of economic growth and social progress.  For those who advocate “culture as a vector of development”, this particular case presents a major challenge, both philosophically and strategically.

Increasingly, “culture as a vector of development” has come to mean the catalysing and support of the creative industries as economic drivers, as job-creation mechanisms, as generators of the financial resources that will be used to address major social and human development needs in the areas of health, education and the eradication of poverty, all important in the pursuit of the Millennium Development Goals.

This is particularly relevant to Uganda whose per capita income is a mere $460 and which is ranked a lowly 143 on the Human Development Index.

What the Ugandan government is saying is that the Ugandan National Museum – a national heritage site and the primary repository of the nation’s historical artefacts - is not a vector of development in that it is poorly attended by locals and tourists; it does not generate income; it serves no real economic purpose, and, if anything, it consumes limited public resources.  From their point of view then, it is a no-brainer to demolish the museum in favour of a building that will generate substantial income through more commercially viable uses, and which could then very well contribute to economic, social and human development in Uganda.

By the same logic, the Ugandan government can next make a move on the National Theatre.  Why bother to have a National Theatre – even if it is better used than the National Museum – when the economy can benefit more from a shopping mall or prestigious office block or apartment building in its place?

Therein lies the philosophical challenge to the “culture as a vector of development” proponents i.e. by making the case for the arts primarily on the basis of their economic contribution, the corollary is that where cultural institutions or the arts do not make an economic contribution or make an economic contribution that is substantially less than another option, then politicians and bureaucrats feel justified in destroying culture in favour of a better “development” option.

And yet, the proposed 60-storey building does not simply represent the destruction of culture in the form of the possible demolition of the National Museum; in truth, it represents a culture that is different, even foreign to the one represented by the Museum.  The 60-storey building represents a culture of materialism, an elitist culture of ostentation, a globalised culture with a building and the values that it represents that could be in any major city of the world.  The National Museum on the other hand – the one destined for destruction – is about Ugandan identity; unique Ugandan history; values, traditions and worldviews that are peculiar to Uganda, a building and content that celebrates cultural diversity as envisaged by UNESCO’s Convention on the Protection and Promotion of the Diversity of Cultural Expressions.

Uganda is not a signatory to the Convention.  Not yet anyway.

And herein lies the strategic challenge to proponents of “culture as a vector of development”: to mobilise an international movement to prevent the destruction of the National Ugandan Museum, thus preserving cultural diversity in a globalised world, and contributing to a richer understanding of the relationship between culture and social, human and economic development. 

NOTES

1. The views expressed in this column are entirely those of the writer and are necessarily representative of any of the organisations in which he is involved. 

2. This column may be forwarded by the recipient to any other interested party, and may be reproduced by any publication or website at no charge, provided that writer is acknowledged.

3. To engage with the content of this column or to provide feedback, go to www.mikevangraan.wordpress.com

Mike van Graan is the Secretary General of Arterial Network, a continent-wide network of artists, activists and creative enterprises active in the African creative sector and its contribution to development, human rights and democracy on the continent.  He is also the Executive Director of the African Arts Institute (AFAI), a South African NGO based in Cape Town that harnesses expertise, resources and markets in the service of Africa’s creative sector.  He is considered to be one of his country’s leading contemporary playwrights.

For further information, see www.arterialnetwork.org, www.africanartsinstitute.org.za and www.mikevangraan.co.za