Stranger than fiction: The role of literature in democracy and governance
Regarding politics and literature, it has been established that decolonization of Political culture preceded decolonization of literary culture. In this regard, the pioneering roles of Azikiwe, Adelabu, Mbadiwe, Aminu Kano, Osadebay, Enahoro, Rewane and Awolowo, either as poets or journalists, should be appreciated. In addition, the seminal essay of Obi Wali “The Death of African Literature?” presented in Kampala in 1963, in particular, set the stage for the full decolonization of Literature. That was when African writers and, by extension, Nigerian writers took on the role of social critic or the conscience of the continent and the nation.
This is not unusual since creative writers in every society tend to take on some form of political engagement as social critics with or without colonisation. For example, the English writer, Charles Dickens, protested the abuse of children and the corruption of individual feelings in his highly acclaimed novel, Oliver Twist. His portrayal of the destruction of society’s institution and values is more insistent and strident in his later novels.
In the same vein, Nigerian literature is replete with the works of writers whose major forte was social criticism. In his 2012 lecture presented in Minna, Niger State, entitled “Nigerian Literature, Conflict and National Unity”, Nobel Laureate, Wole Soyinka, posed the question on the duty of a writer. According to him; “The primary duty of a writer is to write or else to pursue a different undertaking; his or her material is words which are the basic unit of the edifice of language”. In addition, Soyinka observes that “another duty is to deploy, manipulate, organise, refurbish and, where necessary, even displace the normal meanings of words in order to transmit interesting mood, experience to engage the nominal, to interrogate ideas usually through characters which are created or adopted for that very purpose”.
However, beyond the arduous job of using words to build vocabularies and “interrogate ideas”, the writer has also wittingly or unwittingly taken up other extra duties depending on the circumstances of the time and his/her temper. These additional duties could be that of a social critic, a propagandist, a fund raiser for a cause or even a soldier. At the same 2012 lecture in Minna, the irrepressible Odia Ofeimun said: “When I started writing poetry at the age of 17; the war had just started, Wole Soyinka was in detention, Chinua Achebe was helping to raise money for Biafra and Cyprian Ekwensi was doing propaganda for Biafra, while Christopher Okigbo was fighting as a Biafran soldier.” Che Quevera and Frank Fanon, like Christopher Okigbo, not satisfied with fighting with words, also decided to take their literary war to the battle field by fighting.
All these go to show that, in his/her ambition to change the world through literature, the writer could also take on several other roles apart from that of being a social critic or the conscience of the nation and the world. In addition, creative writers in every society tend to take on some form of political engagement as social critics. The English writer, Charles Dickens, for instance, “protested the abuse of children and the corruption of individual feelings. His portrayal of the destruction of society’s institution and values is more insistent and strident in his later novel”.
Equally worth mentioning is the remark by the late French Prime Minister, Francois Mitterrand, a consummate poet of his time, who believes that poetry is superior to politics. To Mitterrand, while politics often frustrates, literature is mind refreshing. His observation seemed to tally with that of Bola Ige, who during his lifetime, used to organise literary readings in his house in Bodija, Ibadan as a form of retreat from his usually busy and chockfull political activities.
Another society where literature played an important role in political liberation was the Soviet Union of the 1950’s when writers, who spoke against the Kremlin’s world view, did so at the risk to their lives. Thus, in the former Soviet dictatorship, it was easy to be an engaging poet. All you had to do was say the words that nobody else could say. The very sound of those forbidden syllables would stir the people to the quick. And, of course, it could also lead you to Siberia. Again, it is obvious that writers are not just people who write – they also function as a conscience of the society, as they did in Central Europe during the last two centuries until the fall of the Berlin wall.
Here, in Nigeria, we have a deluge of writers who, over the years, continued to send strident political messages through their works. Wole Soyinka, Chinua Achebe, Femi Osofisan, Niyi Osundare, Festus Iyayi, Seffi Attah are just some of the large group of Nigerian writers who are never tired of criticising the powers that be. Contrary to the general impression that political leaders largely ignore these literary vituperations, many of them do. For example, during the burial ceremony of Chinua Achebe in 2013, President Goodluck Jonathan made reference to Achebe’s books, The Trouble with Nigeria, (1983) and the last one, There was a Country, saying they were a clarion call on Nigerians to shun corruption and other vice that the country could move forward.
As the President put it; “So as we are burying Achebe who wrote There was a Country today, it is for us and our future leaders to work very hard to make sure that probably when Achebe Junior is writing another book on Nigeria, it will be entitled There is a Country. That means that we that are politicians, business moguls, religious leaders and traditional leaders, all of us must work hard to change this country.”
Some Nigerian Writers, such as Wole Soyinka, Chinua Achebe, Ben Tomolojo, Wale Okediran and, very lately, Ogaga Ifowodo, to mention just a few, have also at one time or the other took that extra step of going into partisan politics. For example, Wole Soyinka was a card carrying member of Aminu Kano’s faction of the PRP before. According to him, the high rate of political violence made him do away with partisan politics.
Doctor/writers, such as Anezi Okoro, Tony Marinho, Femi Olugbile, among others, have also been at the forefront of using literature to reform their society. Politics is a very strong theme in the poetry of Tony Marinho and the novels of Femi Olugbile, among other writers, especially poets. These writers have the advantage of using the literary medium of expression that has a wider audience than politics. Whereas no amount of political statement lasts more than a week (like a storm in a tea cup or as transient as a froth), literature allows you a wider audience than politics, provided the books are well written and read.
Achebe’s three earlier texts locate their stories clearly within Nigeria’s cities, villages, and ethnic groups, while the fourth novel inhabits imaginary cities and refuses specific ethnic or cultural identification. The political and social problems that regulate the plot—bribery, kickbacks, incompetence at high government levels, greed, and social apathy—represent not just Nigeria’s maladjustment to independence but that of many African nations. How different is A Man of the People from the Ghanaian novel, The Beautiful Ones Are Not Yet Born (1969), or the Senegalese novel, The Last of the Empire (1983)? In fact, all three serve to exemplify, or rather prove, Fanon’s theories of disastrous neo-colonialism when power falls into the hands of the greedy elite. Despite the similarity to actual historical events to Nigeria in 1963, the riots, turbulent election campaigns, the political corruption, Achebe refuses to limit his story only to Nigeria. Just as Armah named his working-class protagonist “the man,” Achebe makes use of the general to enlarge its representational possibilities. It becomes not the story of Nigeria but the story of any West African nation, an elaborate parable of the pitfalls of neo-colonialism.
Chinua Achebe’s texts have long been considered the quintessential Nigerian novels, despite their Igbo specific village settings, or the use of imaginary or vague signifiers that allow both A Man of the People and Anthills of the Savannah (1987) to be seen as parables for the postcolonial African nation in peril.
Just like the above mentioned writers, politics and social issues have been the strong and persistent themes of my literary works. For example, the problem of the Ogunpa flood disaster, which occurred in Ibadan many years ago, formed the kernel of my novel, After The Flood (Longman Plc, 2003), while smuggling and cross border violence featured prominently in The Boys at the Border (Spectrum Books, 1991). On the other hand, corruption among law enforcement agents, as well as the problem of drug trafficking, were examined respectively in Strange Encounters (Heinemann [Heineman] 2004) and Dreams Die at Twilight (Malthouse, 2002) while my latest work, Tenants of The House (Nelson Publishers 2010) critically examined our current democratic experience.
As pointed out above, the political and social problems that regulate the plot in Achebe’s A Man of the People are bribery, kickbacks, incompetence at high government levels, greed, and social apathy. Sadly, these are the same issues that dominate subsequent novels with the same theme published several decades after A Man of the People. They are also the same issues that drive the plot of Tenants of the House. What may be different between the two books are the style and language of politics which have slightly changed since colonial times. Thus, when Hon Lizzy in Tenants of the House, while explaining how she came about the gun in her handbag, blurts out to Hon Sam Bakura that “Hear this and hear it well: to kill is a crime, to kill at the right time is politics”, she was just highlighting the pervading culture of violence that is now rampant in politics.
It was the same Lizzy, who advised Sam on how to win future elections by admonishing him to make as much money as needed while in government, for in her words, “Huge loads of fertilizer is what you need. Money, money, money is the fertilizer of politics”. Not done, she encourages Sam to do all he could to remain in the Parliament. As she put it, “How many Reps make it back? Only two out of ten. Sam, Sam, Sam, how many times did I call you? You want to make it back? Take the money, make the money, from anywhere, everywhere. Prepare for the rainy day. Politics can be good for you. In this Nigeria, life outside parliament is hard, hard, hard.”
This statement will, therefore, explain the reason why many of our elected officials will do everything possible to stay in power much against the advice of that famous British MP, Enoch Powell, that “all political lives, unless they are cut off in midstream at a happy juncture, end in failure, because that is the nature of politics and human affairs”.
Interestingly, the Nigeria’s political history is replete with many politicians, who left office in tears and sometimes in disgrace, because they failed to determine the “happy juncture” at which to cut off their political lives. Interestingly, too, this phenomenon is not limited to Nigeria. The former British PM, Iron lady Margaret Thatcher, also left office in tears after eight wonderful years in office.
Another very popular habit among politicians the world over, especially in Nigeria, is that of inconsistency in ideas and political positions. And so when Hon Lizzy and her friends in Tenants of the House decides to impeach Speaker Yaya, their very good friend, an xasperated Hon Bakura remarks: “Lizzy, ah ah! Why? The Speaker is your friend. Why do you want him out? I don’t get it.”
Lizzy in her usually combative style replies: “Yes , Speaker Yaya is my friend. But, in this matter, he is not. You know the saying, ‘There are no permanent friends in politics, only permanent interests.”
Again, this assertion by Lizzy explains the reason why some Nigerian politicians change political parties at will. Today, we have so many highly placed politicians in the country, who have made a complete round of all the major political parties in the country. I am sometimes amused whenever I am asked by my party leaders to attend a reception to welcome some new decampees from another party to our party. My amusement stems from the fact that these same decampees were a few weeks ago referred to in all sorts of terrible nomenclatures, such as “conservatives”, “thieves”, “dictators” and the rest. However, once they join our party, they are showered with praises and hailed as “progressives”, “servant leaders” and “true democrats”. Of course, such new party members are quick to denounce their former parties as “visionless”, “corrupt”, among other harsh words. My question at such moments was: “Why it took the fellows such a long time to make such a huge U-turn in their political careers?”
As I pointed out earlier, “crossing the carpet”, as this political habit is termed in western countries, is not limited to Nigeria. It is on record that even the great Winston Churchill “crossed the carpet” three times in his historic and glorious political career.
Again, when the House Leader in Tenants… advises Speaker Yaya to spruce up his information-gathering techniques in order to avoid getting impeached, the Chief Whip countered the Leader’s suggestion: “Espionage? James Bond Stuff. Not on your life. This is politics, not war.”
To this, the Deputy Leader replies: “It is war my friend. According to the great war theorist, Karl Von Clausewitz, politics is war carried out by other means.” Judging from the way and manner politics is played in Nigeria, to many Nigerian politicians, Clausewitz is right on the mark!!
Finally, I am often asked the reason for the Hausa exclamations in Tenants…? Some critics have postulated that, by giving the Hausa translation of every emotional outburst in the book, I was indirectly implying that Hausa is the language of politics in Nigeria. To such questions, my explanation is that out of all the ethnic groups in Nigeria, the Hausa/Fulanis take politics more seriously than other ethnic groups. Having realised how important political power is, the Hausa/Fulani are well organised when it comes to political aspirations. If this then means that Hausa is the language of politics in Nigeria, so be it.
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