It has devastated African economies and kept the powerful in charge for centuries, writes Adrian Ephraim.
Corruption, it seems, is present in our DNA as human beings. It attacks the flesh and the mind in equal measure, and like oxygen it is ubiquitous; it’s viral and drives the nature of our actions and lives. There are few saints among us, and the sooner we come to terms with that, the sooner we can move forward and try to eradicate it.
Corruption has started fist fights in Parliament and long wars in the desert battlefields. It has devastated African economies in every region, and kept the powerful in charge for centuries. It drives colonialism, oppression and genocide.
The stages of corruption, however, are what differ and keep the narrative flavoured for the media, and hidden in plain sight from the consciousness of the politically neutered.
There is the corruption attached to a rabble-rousing, celebratory space in time – when a hero ascends to the seat of power and spoils his troops. To the tune of victory songs, jobs are given to comrades, associates, brothers and friends.
The promise of a share in the spoils sparks joy among the people who support the “radical” transformation of the political economy and the social order. “They deserve it for sacrificing their lives in the struggle”, is the dominant mantra. Except that public service grinds to a halt once power is achieved.
Robert Mugabe, Yahja Jammeh, Jacob Zuma and Yoweri Museveni among many others entered their respective offices as heroes of the people, saviours who rescued their people from an unkind and even brutal leadership. Jammeh fled into exile recently with millions in cash and luxury vehicles; Museveni is still well entrenched and refuses to leave; Zuma seems to be staying the course despite increasing pressure from those within the ruling ANC; and Mugabe musters every ounce of life in him to cling to power.
Then there is the stage of capture, of institutionalised corruption that has the façade of legitimacy but the stench of connivance and skullduggery. Here, the corrupt play a delicate numbers game, to push through the laws that lay the tracks for the gravy train’s passing, or the oppression of another grouping. They drown out the righteous voices, and label the opposition as enemies of the people, and collaborators.
In the stage of capture, the levers of state machinery are aligned to serve the powerful elite; the masters of the universe – the corrupt individuals spawned during the rabble-rousing and patronage stage.
Famously, South Africa’s former public protector, Thuli Madonsela, coined this stage of corruption, in her report titled “State of capture”. She points to the undue influence on the seat of power because of links between the president of South Africa Jacob Zuma and close business associates.
Similarly, allegations of nepotism in Angola are commonplace, where President Jose Eduardo dos Santos has gifted important positions to his daughter (now the head of the country’s state oil company), and his son (head of the country’s sovereign wealth fund). No pun intended here, but the state machinery is well oiled here. Corruption is entrenched, almost to the point of seeming legitimate.
And finally, there is the white knuckle stage – full blown corruption, decay and hostility. Here the name of the game is longevity. Try to hang on to power as long as you can. Use force if you must. The afterglow of a one-night stand in the promised land (during the rabble-rousing stage) disappears in the full light of day and the realisation that there will be no marriage for life, no loyalty and no happy ending. There are rumblings of discontent among the betrayed. Former collaborators speak out and are ostracised.
The nexus of power is propped up by the very same captured state machinery. The army, police, welfare departments and civil servants are summoned to protect the core – the head – at all costs. The white-knuckle grip on power suggests that only death will pry it open.
Corruption has punished us all, whether we feel it directly when money for essential aid and upliftment is squandered on birthday parties and extravagant houses and cars, or we are punished with higher taxes and a poor currency trading.
At 93, Mugabe is in the throes of a white-knuckle stage of corruption. It is seemingly impossible to unseat him before his own mortality removes him. And even, according to his wife Grace Mugabe, he could still rule from the grave. Sane observers are still unsure how to react to that statement, although shock is a certainty.
Mugabe moved through the stages of corruption; the Robin Hood, rabble-rousing stage was short lived as the land grabs backfired.
The stage of capture was more prolonged and has bled the economy dry, playing into the hands of the West he so despised. It’s much easier to impose sanctions on a corrupt leader. Now in his twilight years, Mugabe holds on while his kingdom crumbles around him, waiting for another “hero”.
To be clear, corruption is not an African thing, or even a Western one for that matter. Nor is it confined to governments. Corporates have proven to be far more ruthless and corrupt, dealing deadly blows to the continent and beyond. It is a human condition that has manifested throughout the ages.
Recognising what stage of corruption our individual countries are in, is our only hope of trying to stifle it, like the disease it is.
Corruption enters its first stage unnoticed when our heroes in the struggle for liberation begin to reward themselves and assume the role of master instead of serving the people. Picture: Reuters
* Adrian Ephraim is the editor of African Independent. For the best news and analysis from the continent go to www.africanindy.com