When I was still growing up, there were three types of people we held in high esteem because they belonged to a sort of higher calling.

The first were teachers. These were people that chose to educate the young, fill them with wisdom and knowledge, and mould their pupils into responsible adults that in time would take charge of their societies.

Teachers were selfless individuals whose only interest was the growth and advancement of their charges.

The second were the religious people – priests, pastors, nuns, and others. These were men and women who had supposedly given up everything to devote their lives to looking after our souls, saving us from sin and punishment, and leading us to glory in heaven.

To do this, they had to be better than the rest of us – selfless, of impeccable character and good morals. In short they had to be holy.

The third were political leaders, those who take it upon themselves to organize us so that we live in peace, harmony and prosperity. They choose to serve us and look after our physical and social needs, and advance our collective wellbeing. 

They are supposed to be public-spirited and passionate about changing the world and making it better for all its inhabitants.

As I grew older I realized that the picture of high-minded, public-spirited individuals was not entirely rosy. It had many tints and smells.  Parts of the picture were pale and faded and unattractive, and in some cases distinctly repulsive.  Others had the appearance and odour of wilting, dying and decay.

Of teachers, I will not say much, except that they are generally a good lot who rarely get their due recognition.

The image of the religious people has been sullied by the incredible criminal acts of some of their number. Take Wenceslas Munyeshyaka (I hesitate to call him Father), formerly of Sainte Famille Parish in Kigali. He abandoned clerical garb and crucifix in preference for a pistol that he proudly carried in his waistband as he directed the murder and rape of his parishioners who had sought sanctuary in his church.

Obviously, murderous hate was stronger than his pastoral responsibilities. Or that of another cleric, Athanase Seromba, using a bulldozer to bring down his church in Nyange and bury alive all his flock taking refuge in it.

These pictures are etched in the minds of thousands of Rwandans and do not inspire confidence in their role in the saving the souls of sinners.

Politics, like religion, seems to attract some of the worst characters. Some of the most mean-spirited, hooligans and thugs, bigots, and charlatans of every hue find a home there. For some reason these are the most successful.

This was the case in Rwanda before and during the Genocide against the Tutsi. It is increasingly becoming evident in the rest of East Africa today.

So why has politics in East Africa, especially among the opposition, diverted from the high-minded, public-spirited pursuit of the greatest good for the people?

I think it has to do with how some people conceive political contest and power. Of course, all political contest is about winning power, and in a sense is not expected to be too nice.

But nor is it warfare where force and violence are normal. Some level of civility is expected. Power is supposed to be a means to an end, to provide an alternative vision of governance.

However, in the last few years power has become an end in itself. This has coincided with the addition of a new term to the political lexicon – regime change.  In this sense the primary motive for seeking power is about removing the government of the day and not necessarily offering an alternative to it.

Look at Kenya, for instance. The opposition has failed to present itself as a government in waiting with an alternative programme. Instead, it is busy working to dismantle or circumvent institutions of the state and generally making it difficult for the government to govern.

The justification for going outside the constitution to achieve its political aims is reportedly the government’s numerical superiority in parliament.

In such a climate, violence has become an acceptable tool of political contest. Politicians say some of the most hateful things about others or entire ethnic groups. They call it hate speech. If unchecked, it can lead to terrible consequences as Rwandans know only too well.

A similar situation obtains in Uganda.

In Burundi mass murder is increasingly becoming acceptable as part of normal politics. The elimination of those you don’t agree with or simply don’t like is becoming deeply entrenched.

Of course, good people remain in both religion and politics but somehow get overshadowed or upstaged by the bad guys. We can get comfort from the knowledge that there are enough of the good people to keep alive our faith in the public-spiritedness of politicians.

jorwagatare@yahoo.co.uk