Knowing when to move on is an act of wisdom we see too little of, writes Adrian Ephraim.
Letting go is one of the hardest things we have to deal with in life. Death, and the departure of loved ones from this Earth, is a traumatic experience and saying goodbye can be excruciating. Letting go of that which we hold dear is a chapter in life we do not get to skip. We confront it when we must, or we are forced to, and we do it.
Similarly, knowing when to let go is an act of wisdom. When the brain outthinks the heart and – depending on the circumstances – sanity prevails.
In 1999 Nelson Mandela graciously stepped aside after just one term as president of South Africa. At the time he fulfilled the desires of the majority of South Africans who wanted unity and equality, and wished Mandela could have prolonged his departure from the Union Buildings. His job was done. He did what was required and he left to be effective outside of the office of the president.
Mandela understood that by letting go he could send a message to the many stubborn African leaders that the peaceful transition of power is possible. Mandela demonstrated that there is power in letting go – if one has nothing to fear.
There’s talk in South Africa of President Jacob Zuma seeking a third presidential term. This is claimed by his nemesis EFF leader Julius Malema, so take it whence it came. Zuma’s motivation? To evade corruption charges, Malema claims. Let’s just say there’ll be fewer South Africans baying for Zuma to stay on for another term, but even for Zuma, clinging to power by such audacious means appears to be a stretch of the imagination, though stranger things have been known to happen.
Somehow Africa’s leaders seem to outlive their subjects for many generations.
We speak about this constantly. Millions of citizens in Zimbabwe, Angola and Equatorial Guinea know no other leaders but the freedom fighter-turned-beloved president-turned-stubborn dictator-turned-old man who won’t let go.
People’s entire existence has been shaped and impacted by power hungry men with questionable morals and a deadly streak of madness.
To be accurate, stubborn rulers are not unique to Africa. In fact, the worst “rulers for life” were born in Europe, the Middle East and Asia. They range from soft dictatorships in Eastern Europe, to the more brutal leadership of North Korea and Saudi Arabia.
The story of humankind is an endless loop of deadly power plays between men who were either born into power or seized it violently.
Africa’s dictatorships are perhaps more pronounced amid the desperate poverty, environmental catastrophes and a blinkered Western media.
Dictatorships come in many guises, even infiltrating well-oiled democratic machinery like the courts and the media. You do not feel it until it is upon you, and there are soldiers on the streets instead of police officers.
Every year we fly into fits of rage over the millions of dollars spent on celebrating another year of Robert Mugabe’s life. Lavish parties are thrown replete with giant cakes and “more meat than a zoo” it has been claimed. We’ve lamented Uncle Bob’s birthday for years, and yet there he is, turning 93, blowing out candles – unwilling to let go.
Someone who is letting go though is Angola President Jose Eduardo dos Santos. Africa’s second-longest serving leader has decided to give up the reins after 38 years due to ill health, but is he actually letting go? With his daughter now the head of the country’s state oil company, and his son at the helm of the country’s sovereign wealth fund, Dos Santos has stacked the deck heavily in favour of the family bank account.
Joao Lourenco, Dos Santos’s defence minister, has been named as the ruling party’s presidential candidate to run in the president’s place in the August elections. Most of the laws are made by the executive and the president.
At 74 Dos Santos knows he can’t rule for much longer, but has chosen to stay in control indirectly.
Leaving office and letting go are two very different concepts in Angola.
Former ruler of The Gambia Yahya Jammeh didn’t so much let go as much as he fled for his life in the dark of night – on a private jet.
Jammeh threatened not to let go but then saw the error of his ways as Ecowas troops took up positions at Gambia’s borders, prepared to fight for change.
What is it about letting go that makes it impossible for some of us to do so? Greed. Control. Fear. All of the above?
* Adrian Ephraim is the editor of African Independent. For the best news and analysis from the continent go to www.africanindy.com