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Al-Nahda
If we Eritreans counted years by animal themes, like the Chinese do, this year would be the Year of the Mule. This year and every year for the last few years, at least 5, maybe 10, maybe 15, depending on who is doing the counting. The mule is a stubborn animal—and we have been out-competing one another to see who can be more stubborn. Until the end, camels were the best fit transportation scheme during our revolution. They were the most loyal, obedient, patient, intelligent companions of our tegadalay. They knew the difference between torserawit and tegadalay. The[y] easily avoided enemy traps and detected enemy approaches from far away places. They knew how to hide under trees, on deserts etc. They learned izhaaf from our fighters and used it to hide under trees when jet fighters flew over. Izhaaf meant to crawl like a snake on the ground on your belly or on your back. At night, they traveled very quietly along the side of tegadelay and obeyed whenever instructed to stop or kneel down, to load/unload.- ShumBahri, “Memoires of The True Legacy of Jebha”, Awate Forum, 5/25/2006 I think this sentiment is universally held—which is why the camel is in Don’t get me wrong—I love some of our stubborn qualities. In fact, I think it is one of the more endearing qualities about Eritreans, when done in moderation or the subject is benign. Like tea. But not politics. Exhibit 1: Tea In Years ago, before Americans discovered coffee shops, Eritreans used to go to a bar or pastry shop to order tea. And, invariably, they would get iced tea and, invariably, they would get mad. All they had to do was add one word—hot—and get their order, hot tea. But because to them tea means hot tea, they saw it as a matter of principle that the waiter should understand that tea means hot tea. It was of no consequence to them that in Now that there are proliferation of coffee shops, Eritreans still have a tea problem, but of a different sort. They will ask for tea, and when the waiter asks, “what kind?” they will get furious, “what do you mean what kind? Normal tea!” What we call normal tea is black tea, and all my peeps have to learn is one word—black—but they won’t do it. Black? But my tea is red. It becomes a process of elimination—mint tea? Black tea? Green Tea? This one? That one? Veins popping, Eritreans will retort: Don’t you have normal Lipton tea? Of course, green tea has better doses of caffeine, and the leaves, unlike the “normal” tea are not fermented and therefore healthier….but good luck trying to talk my peeps into drinking green tea. I won’t even discuss why people who are into fermented leaves drink tea when there are so many more pleasing beverages, if you are into the fermented kind. Exhibit 2: Politics Eritrean Style Another endearing quality we have is that we Eritreans are completely obsessed with politics—but we are very bad at it. We? Yeah, all of us—the President, the PFDJ, the EDA, the unaligned. I know you may be offended, but that is not the intent: it is my diagnosis, that is all. We really are quite poor at practicing politics. Politics to Eritreans is like basketball is to the Oakland Warriors—we go through the motions, but we stink at it. We blame the coaches, the referee, the game itself—but never ourselves and our stubborn nature. We would all flunk the elevator test. If you worked in sales, you probably have heard of the elevator test. (Note to the Brits: elevator is what you guys call a lift.) You have a product or a service to sell and by some happy coincidence, the person you need to make the pitch to is in the same elevator with you, going to his office on the 30th floor. The question is: can you make your pitch—describe the benefits and features of your product/service--before you reach the destination? If you can, you are a trained salesperson; if you can’t, it is back to the sales boot camp for you. This doesn’t interest me at all, you say, because I hate sales, salespeople and selling. But that’s where you are mistaken, you stubborn Eritrean, because everything is selling. For example, I am trying to sell you this column in exchange for your time and, something even more precious: an open mind. Please excuse the absence of visual aids. Politics is sales—its salesmen are called politicians and cadres. Some of their techniques are effortless because it is God-given: they have charisma, and they ooze it. I have a friend, a former ELF cadre, who confessed to me that a lot of the words the cadres used in their political orientations were made up on the spot. The year political orientations classes and seminars began in Consider: Tigrigna as spoken by our elders is a beautiful language that expresses ideas and actions using the humblest qualifiers: gega yklealey de’a ember (If I am not mistaken), neAKa do mikri adliyuka (you are too wise to need counsel), seb tesaeenu’mber nhnas bqAt yeblnan (the more qualified folks were not available) and that rare word that has now been virtually made illegal: indiEE (I don’t know.) The speaker would communicate humility, humbleness and ambivalence even on subjects that are their expertise. This would invite discussion, debate, compromise and everybody would leave with a sense that they contributed. Now contrast this with Zemene Beqli: the cadres would tell you the most fantastic, impossible to verify stories with dead certainty because izi’kwa sciensawi haqi iyu (this is a scientific truth.) And they are still doing it. You better not argue with sciensawi haqi because that will expose you for the superstitious relic that you are. Politics PIA Style I have two competing theories about President Isaias Afwerki: one, he is a true believer, a revolutionary who actually believes that everything is wrong in the world and it is up to him to change it. Now, this is not as crazy as it sounds because this is a common phenomenon in politics. It is only the radicals that can change the world. There are three problems with radicals. One is that to say that only radicals change the world does not mean that all radicals change the world. The second is that change is not always for the better and quite often, their change is disastrous. The third is that a radical has no room for uncertainty or IndiEE and will pursue his ideas with vigor, right or wrong, to the bitter end—even if he has to take his co-travelers to the edge of the cliff. Remember the pledges we made to ourselves that we Eritreans would avoid Wefri Warsay Yeka’alo? Remember Kenyatta’s Harambe and Nyrere’s Arusha Declaration which were announced with much fanfare to bring about self-reliance? Total disasters. The state capitalism we have in This is assuming he is a true believer. My other theory is that he knows it is all a temporary show for a permanent need: preserving power. It is politically prudent to be a hardliner now, so he has become a hardliner. At some point, when the hardliners are no longer of use, the version of Isaias who knows that politics is a chess game, and reversals and re-directions are normal, may emerge. Moammer Khaddaffi, now Isaias’ best friend, was once a reliable ally of Mengistu and was recruited in the Sixth Offensive to obliterate the armed struggle. The hardliners will be ok, as long as he gives them a new slogan to chant. Which one is the real Isaias? Is it the true believer or the pragmatic actor? I don’t know—and neither does the artist Osman Abrar. (Listen to Tsebah.) But either version is, gega ykle’aley dea ember, quite bad for Politics – PFDJ Style Isaias may be an actor or a true believer but what is indisputable is that he sure has surrounded himself by True Believers. Zemehret, Yemane Gebremeskel, Fozia Hashem, Wedi Kassa, Abdella Jaber…Holy cow: they’ve got to be the greatest collection of inflexible hardliners, sloganeers, and dead-enders since the Saddam Hussein cabinet convened. Every movement has its left and right wing, its moderates and extremists, its yin and yang…but not with PFDJ. Whatever the game is, these guys always blame the ref and the rules of the game. In the latest installment presented by Shaebia.org, the subject was human rights. I don’t know if the purpose is to bring about gradual change or to stall change by having the ever-hopeful say, “at least they are talking about it” (I suspect the latter.) But once again, the discussions allow no room for the obvious—to review the tape of the game and understand why you lost the game, and to change so you can win. Instead, they blame the ref ( This is depressing—in the sense that the quality of the discussion is not one step more elevated than the one you can have in any coffee shop where Eritreans congregate. (Excepting for Professor Asmerom who tries to educate the hardliners about how the world really works, but then throws in red meat once in a while to remind them he is a carnivore, too.) Why is it that, 15 years after being in power, they do not understand that what they are complaining about are not exceptions but part of the game, since the game was invented? Not only part of the game, but a defining feature of the game? That The hardliners seem to think that Eritrea’s foreign policy is all about bringing changes to the rule of the game when, in fact, it should be all about how does Eritrea understand the game, play the game and win the game? As for domestic policy, there is none—because it is all now an extension of foreign policy, which all hinges on Badmme. We won’t improve human rights because by doing so it will appear that we have succumbed to our foreign critics. We won’t open up the political process because if we do so, it may appear that we are bending to foreign pressure. So what we have with PFDJ politics is this: a domestic policy which is entirely dependent on a flawed foreign policy. From the dialogue, it is clear that the hardliners are stung by the criticism; and it is clear that they know what they have to do to reverse course. It is also clear that they are too stubborn to do it. They will just wait—for something. When the PFDJ big wigs are expressing their skepticism of political pluralism, singing the praises of one vanguard party state, denouncing calls to improve their human rights, praising the efficiency of their state capitalism, surely, surely, they know that they have not invented anything—but are copying experiments in Africa and Asia which have more numbers in the failed than succeeded column? Folks, sooner or later, you will go on to meet your maker—do you want to leave behind a Politics – Opposition Style We are back at the elevator and we find ourselves face-to-face with somebody we are trying to win over to our side. We are in selling mode and we have limited time. And this is the cacophony of our message, with different messengers interjecting their grievances: Since 2001… (correction, since 1972), …the dictatorial regime… (correction the chauvinist Tigrayan regime) …of… (interjection: don’t forget the crusading regime) …Isaias Afwerki has arrested parliamentarians… (interjection: they really were not parliamentarians. Weren’t they arresting others with him?) …and suspended a ratified constitution… (interjection: what constitution? That exclusionary document. The problems go much beyond that), …we in the opposition… (interjection: please don’t speak on my behalf; as of yesterday, I don’t belong to your group) …have been standing against the arrest of the journalists, the elderly, and members of the minority religions… (interjection: I have to say I agree with the government in its stand against CIA religions.….) …whose churches were closed in 2002… (interjection: how about the Muslims who disappeared in 1994?) …We call on the people of (interjection: when was a dictator defeated peacefully) …and we call on the Eritrean Defense Forces… (interjection: you mean tools of the regime)…. We lose the interest of whoever is listening by the time we get to the 3rd floor. The reason? Because we are stubborn and blind to the facts. This column once provided data from www.nationmaster.com which may be worth republishing: Demographics of Eritrea: Population: 4,135,933 (July 2000 est.) Using a sophisticated engineering program known as WAG (wild ass guess), I was able to extrapolate from the above data that: 50% of the population was born after 1991, meaning they have no other government to compare PFDJ to:
Now, this being the case, the only message that could have any hope of resonance is: We have a ratified constitution that has been shelved and we demand its implementation. Every grievance we have can be addressed on the basis of the constitution: political prisoners, religious persecution; arrests without trial; political monopoly of the PFDJ; absence of free press; return of refugees; land re-allocation; restructuring the type of government we want. Everything. Yes, yes, I have my biases and huge objections with many aspects of the Constitution. But. But. But. But in politics, to speak about old problems is to speak of insoluble problems. When we talk about dinosaur politics, we lose people’s interest—the most we can get is a sympathetic head nod: ain’t that a bitch. Life is not fair. Another insoluble problem. Next!
But Then Again… I have a theory that an excellent preparation to be a politician is to be a sports fan, particularly team sports. I will also bet that, not coincidentally, not a solitary member of our political elite, opposition or government, is a fan of sports. Since it is NBA and World Cup season, let’s use them as examples. First rule: in sports, you learn that talent is not distributed evenly—Pele’s team mates could spend longer hours practicing and training but they could never be as good as him. There is one King James, one Michael Jordan. So, sometimes the only slot available is number two. Accept it.
Fourth rule: review of previous games is critical for assessment and continuous improvement. And finally, and this is something my old friend Mobae Afwerki used to point out when talking about the Home Team during the war years, you gotta make room for the intangible. Even when there is absolutely no change in the rules, the players, the coaches, the refs or the game, teams playing in their home field/turf/court are favored to win over the guests. The only difference is the intangible—the roar of a cheering crowd.
What's that? No, thanks for asking, but the home team does not cheer for its own players when one group of its players starts punching another group of its own players. It booes its own team, actually. But then again, remember the disclaimer above that “we Eritreans are completely obsessed with politics—but we are very bad in it.” That certainly includes the writer of this column. So why should you get political advice from someone who is not completely free of the mule syndrome? So let the cacophonies of disharmonious sound continue—just don’t order me tea. I will pass. | |
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