Rwanda's uncivil society

Rwanda has a weak political opposition. The civil society is weak too. Many people inside and outside the country would likely agree to those statements. When it comes to the reason for their weakness, however, that is where sharp differences emerge. Nonetheless, the international media has made up its mind that the opposition and the civil society in Rwanda are weak because they operate in a hostile political environment of intimidation and suppression. To this I say baloney. Here’s why. In liberal political theory, both the political opposition and civil society are, to varying degrees, supposed to be the conscience of a nation. In practice, however, such esteemed status is earned by the weight of the responsibilities actors in those respective realms assume in society. For instance, the political opposition earns esteem as a government-in-waiting due to its positioning as a substantive alternative to the incumbent. The substance is in identifying policy differences and in convincing the electorate that it would be much better off should it give them a chance as a replacement government. But real power is imaginative. It is the ability to construct an imagination of a changed society in the minds of the people, an alternative universe of sorts, a collective belief within us that “Yes We Can.” Thus, the failure to nurture this imagination in society is a dereliction of duty on the part of our political opposition for which it ought to be held accountable in the courts of law. Which is segue to civil society organisations. With the exception of religious originations, no other entity is entrusted with the conscience of the nation more than civil society organisations. In this regard, the difference between the political opposition and the civil society is that the former is entrusted with holding government politically responsible while the latter does the same in the moral realm. This places civil society organisations on a relatively higher moral ground and bestows upon them more moral authority in their dealings with the government accountable. But this is theory. Real life is stubborn, unpredictable. Thus, the question becomes: how can political parties and civil society organisations manifest this esteemed role of the conscience of the nation in the everyday lives of people? The answer determines the degree of their success and relevancy to society. In any case, part of the problem is that the political opposition and the civil society organisations conceive this responsibility in the liberal democratic tradition, respectively, to “oppose” and to “pressure” government. In seeking to do so, however, they forget that the weapon in their arsenal (the prerequisite) is the moral ground on which to stand. It is the ability to invoke a meaningful cause in the benefit of the people on whose behalf you claim to speak. And what if you can’t do this? You seek gainful employment in other areas. Why? Because it is criminal activity to sell what you do not have. Where have all the causes gone? In Rwanda’s case, the way civil society organisations and the political opposition conceive their role undermines their ability to identify worthwhile causes in which Rwandans can feel invested, with these entities acting as midwives for this change. Consider this. A fortnight ago this paper carried a headline that read: “Civil society commits to fight genocide ideology.” Now, we are twenty-something years in. But civil society, the conscience of our nation, is just waking up to its responsibility to fight genocide ideology. If there was ever one single preoccupation of civil society in our social context it is to fight genocide ideology, the tool that – more than any other – has attacked our collective consciousness, the core of who we are as a people. Indeed, if civil society were to do its work, entities like the CNLG (National Commission for the Fight against Genocide) would not have been created in the first place. Or it would have led to their closure due to redundancy. But alas! A call for reinvention Let’s – for argument’s sake – imagine that our political opposition and civil society are conscientious in their relationship to our society. What happens when they are confronted, in their instinct to oppose and pressure, a government that is similarly conscientious? What if it is a government whose credentials include stopping genocide and using state power to the interest of the general welfare? They’d have to work together, no? Otherwise, the government would eat their lunch. This is how the government is able to play psychological jujitsu against them by wrestling away the moral ground on which they are supposed to stand. Psychological jujitsu is at work when government takes on an attitude that it is willing to improve where it has weaknesses. In doing so, it not only closes policy gaps, but also the moral gaps, which are the potential avenues for the opposition and civil society to reclaim legitimate standing in society. In turn, this renders those that are insistent on “opposing” and “pressuring” it redundant, if not delinquent. The civil society and the political opposition lost their mojo – if they ever had it – because you can’t pressure the willing. But make no mistake: the government is not going to nurture them, either. That would be akin to feeding a monster – you are the first person it comes back to bite. Finally, if you were the government would you have more to gain or to lose by intimidating or harassing them? Talk about having to shoot yourself in the foot.

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Rwanda's uncivil society