30 years down the road: A self-critical introspection
Henning Melber
Martin Luther King Jr had a dream for which to come true, like him, millions of people in the American civil rights movement were willing to fight. He paid for the dream with his life. Many others too. Their sacrifices were not in vain. Today, the USA is not the same country it was then. But much of the dream has not become true, and some of the achievements since then are under threat or have already been reversed.
Making dreams come true is a constant uphill battle. And there are no guarantees that the dreams might not end in nightmares.
Namibians had a dream too, for which to come true they were willing to fight and even to die. Many paid with their lives, be it on the battlefield, in prisons or in the dungeons.
Their dream had, as a Leitmotif, the struggle slogan “solidarity, freedom, justice”. With 21 March 1990, the doors were finally opened to start living the dream. But there are no fairies who wave their magic wand. Those of us who believed in the dream were now tasked to turn it, step by step, into a reality by drafting a new social contract as a point of departure – and implementing it.
More than a generation later, Namibia’s 30th Independence Day invites a soul-searching cross examination: What has been achieved? Where have our dreams remained wishful thinking, and why so? Have we remained on track, have we made detours or even ended in cul-de-sacs? Did we live up to the promises? Can we convincingly claim that we managed to build a new society to the benefit of all? Have human dignity and self-respect been entrenched? Has the slogan “Namibian and proud of it” made lasting inroads?
The sober reality suggests that while the system of apartheid under a white settler minority rule is history, its structural legacy and some integral parts of its mental mindsets remain. Not only in the variety of forms of open or hidden prejudices and racist sentiments which survived despite our vision of “one Namibia, one nation” and “unity in diversity”. Lately, even the official political discourse by those who govern warns of tribalism. Instead of gradually fading away over time, the socio-political and cultural divide has been growing. Animosities and rifts have become deeper. True reconciliation would look differently. And it would have a material side too, which would benefit not only the few.
The socio-economic situation of many Namibians, however, shows the absence of any meaningful restorative and retributive social justice. Equality remains a value before the law. But it has not translated into social realities. The rich got richer, while many of the poor have remained poor. What has been adjusted is the composition of the haves. A system based on racial privileges of white supremacists has – next to the continued protection of the former privileged – turned into a class-based elite pact.
The post-independent label of “fat cats” refers to black cats. Members of a “struggle generation” have ended as corrupt ministers who benefit from the plundering of resources by foreigners and cashing in as a reward for facilitating the theft. When caught red-handed, they are allowed to resign and are thanked for their “patriotic services”. Convicted criminals, as members of Parliament, are appointed to serve on a parliamentary committee on constitutional and legal affairs. This makes a mockery of justice and testifies to the kleptocratic nature of the new governance in practice.
In recent times, the lives of far too many Namibians remain unimproved. Material conditions and public services have deteriorated, unemployment has been on the rise, incomes declined, destitution and marginalisation remain endemic. Almost half of the country’s population lives in what is euphemistically called “informal settlements” (meaning shacks), while even more people have no access to proper sanitation. Their deplorable living conditions is a national disgrace. Daily despair is a breeding ground for desperate behaviour: Baby dumping, rape and rage against children and women as well as horrendous murders and suicides, even among growing numbers of teenagers, are the shocking evidence that violence and aggression as forms of disrespect for life are the order of the day. We have brought the war for independence to an end, but society is not at peace.
Meanwhile, we claim that the people should recognise our sacrifices during the “struggle days”. But did we not engage for making our dreams come true? Did we not fight for ourselves, our visions, our hopes? Nobody, least of all the “born-frees”, owe us anything. We have not liberated them. Sadly so, we have not even liberated ourselves.
Yes, many have over the last three decades enjoyed the liberties of a society based on a constitutional framework which guarantees civil rights and democratic freedoms guided by the rule of law. Maybe this is the biggest achievement we can claim. But it does not entitle us to demand praise from anyone. We fought for ourselves. Others are entitled to take the result for granted. That our children and grandchildren increasingly loathe the gerontocratic tendencies, the authoritarian mindset and the patronising attitudes they are exposed to should come as no surprise. If I were their age and not among the lucky few who benefitted from the privileges of the nouveau rich who managed to exploit the new system for a luxurious lifestyle by being involved in selling the family silver, I would most likely have similar feelings.
And mind you, it’s not only the younger ones who challenge us for the non-delivery. Who point to the flaws and failures of a society which has not managed to emancipate us from the scourge of the apartheid era. Yes, I can speak my mind in forms like this one without being forced to live elsewhere. But we should not hide behind certain limited achievements in terms of personal freedoms denied earlier on to justify why Namibians continue to live in one of the most unequal societies of the world. In their frustration and bitterness, some of those who have lived long enough to make any meaningful comparison between the harsh realities then and now even claim that they were better off under apartheid. I consider this the ultimate defeat.
Not that I agree (after all, my experiences are not theirs). But if people feel like this – rightly or wrongly so – then their feelings are what counts. Their perception matters. It has a factual side. For them, this is reality. What a shame – not for them, but for us. We have failed.
Henning Melber came to Namibia as a son of German immigrants in 1967. He joined Swapo in 1974 and was a persona non grata (refused to enter Namibia and South Africa) from 1975 to 1989 and 1993 respectively. He was the director of the Namibian Economic Policy Research Unit from 1992 to 2000.
Martin Luther King Jr had a dream for which to come true, like him, millions of people in the American civil rights movement were willing to fight. He paid for the dream with his life. Many others too. Their sacrifices were not in vain. Today, the USA is not the same country it was then. But much of the dream has not become true, and some of the achievements since then are under threat or have already been reversed.
Making dreams come true is a constant uphill battle. And there are no guarantees that the dreams might not end in nightmares.
Namibians had a dream too, for which to come true they were willing to fight and even to die. Many paid with their lives, be it on the battlefield, in prisons or in the dungeons.
Their dream had, as a Leitmotif, the struggle slogan “solidarity, freedom, justice”. With 21 March 1990, the doors were finally opened to start living the dream. But there are no fairies who wave their magic wand. Those of us who believed in the dream were now tasked to turn it, step by step, into a reality by drafting a new social contract as a point of departure – and implementing it.
More than a generation later, Namibia’s 30th Independence Day invites a soul-searching cross examination: What has been achieved? Where have our dreams remained wishful thinking, and why so? Have we remained on track, have we made detours or even ended in cul-de-sacs? Did we live up to the promises? Can we convincingly claim that we managed to build a new society to the benefit of all? Have human dignity and self-respect been entrenched? Has the slogan “Namibian and proud of it” made lasting inroads?
The sober reality suggests that while the system of apartheid under a white settler minority rule is history, its structural legacy and some integral parts of its mental mindsets remain. Not only in the variety of forms of open or hidden prejudices and racist sentiments which survived despite our vision of “one Namibia, one nation” and “unity in diversity”. Lately, even the official political discourse by those who govern warns of tribalism. Instead of gradually fading away over time, the socio-political and cultural divide has been growing. Animosities and rifts have become deeper. True reconciliation would look differently. And it would have a material side too, which would benefit not only the few.
The socio-economic situation of many Namibians, however, shows the absence of any meaningful restorative and retributive social justice. Equality remains a value before the law. But it has not translated into social realities. The rich got richer, while many of the poor have remained poor. What has been adjusted is the composition of the haves. A system based on racial privileges of white supremacists has – next to the continued protection of the former privileged – turned into a class-based elite pact.
The post-independent label of “fat cats” refers to black cats. Members of a “struggle generation” have ended as corrupt ministers who benefit from the plundering of resources by foreigners and cashing in as a reward for facilitating the theft. When caught red-handed, they are allowed to resign and are thanked for their “patriotic services”. Convicted criminals, as members of Parliament, are appointed to serve on a parliamentary committee on constitutional and legal affairs. This makes a mockery of justice and testifies to the kleptocratic nature of the new governance in practice.
In recent times, the lives of far too many Namibians remain unimproved. Material conditions and public services have deteriorated, unemployment has been on the rise, incomes declined, destitution and marginalisation remain endemic. Almost half of the country’s population lives in what is euphemistically called “informal settlements” (meaning shacks), while even more people have no access to proper sanitation. Their deplorable living conditions is a national disgrace. Daily despair is a breeding ground for desperate behaviour: Baby dumping, rape and rage against children and women as well as horrendous murders and suicides, even among growing numbers of teenagers, are the shocking evidence that violence and aggression as forms of disrespect for life are the order of the day. We have brought the war for independence to an end, but society is not at peace.
Meanwhile, we claim that the people should recognise our sacrifices during the “struggle days”. But did we not engage for making our dreams come true? Did we not fight for ourselves, our visions, our hopes? Nobody, least of all the “born-frees”, owe us anything. We have not liberated them. Sadly so, we have not even liberated ourselves.
Yes, many have over the last three decades enjoyed the liberties of a society based on a constitutional framework which guarantees civil rights and democratic freedoms guided by the rule of law. Maybe this is the biggest achievement we can claim. But it does not entitle us to demand praise from anyone. We fought for ourselves. Others are entitled to take the result for granted. That our children and grandchildren increasingly loathe the gerontocratic tendencies, the authoritarian mindset and the patronising attitudes they are exposed to should come as no surprise. If I were their age and not among the lucky few who benefitted from the privileges of the nouveau rich who managed to exploit the new system for a luxurious lifestyle by being involved in selling the family silver, I would most likely have similar feelings.
And mind you, it’s not only the younger ones who challenge us for the non-delivery. Who point to the flaws and failures of a society which has not managed to emancipate us from the scourge of the apartheid era. Yes, I can speak my mind in forms like this one without being forced to live elsewhere. But we should not hide behind certain limited achievements in terms of personal freedoms denied earlier on to justify why Namibians continue to live in one of the most unequal societies of the world. In their frustration and bitterness, some of those who have lived long enough to make any meaningful comparison between the harsh realities then and now even claim that they were better off under apartheid. I consider this the ultimate defeat.
Not that I agree (after all, my experiences are not theirs). But if people feel like this – rightly or wrongly so – then their feelings are what counts. Their perception matters. It has a factual side. For them, this is reality. What a shame – not for them, but for us. We have failed.
Henning Melber came to Namibia as a son of German immigrants in 1967. He joined Swapo in 1974 and was a persona non grata (refused to enter Namibia and South Africa) from 1975 to 1989 and 1993 respectively. He was the director of the Namibian Economic Policy Research Unit from 1992 to 2000.
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