"Traditional Leadership for a Progressing Africa"
By Kgosi Leruo Tshekedi Molotlegi
Addis Ababa, Ethiopia
October 12,2004
Introduction

Our task today, as I see it, is twofold. On the one hand, we need to assess the role of traditional authorities in democratic African states. This means, first, taking a hard look at forms of leadership that seem-to some--to be out of step with the trend towards multi-party politics and free and fair elections.

I hope to challenge that perception. Second, it means focusing on forms of representation in our villages and communities, and wondering whether people's voices can be heard in a chiefdom as well as they can in a town or a municipality.

And, third, it means scrutinizing the ways in which laws are established and enforced in our societies, and finding out if justice and due process are available to those living under customary laws.

I will talk about each of these questions in turn, with reference not only to my own community in South Africa, the Royal Bafokeng Nation, but also with reference to communities across Africa.

That is the first of our tasks today. The second one is more reflective, and ultimately more political. As we discuss the extremely important issues of governance, economic justice, human development, and societal progress, I feel it is imperative to stand back and honestly confront our own assumptions, attitudes, and opinions about traditional governance in Africa.

First and foremost, we must make our reference point the realities as they exist on the ground, not the ideal situations that exist only in theory systems that are perfect in theory but flawed in practice are no more compelling or useful to our people than a beautiful well that doesn't draw water, or an elegant house that can't keep out the wind and rain.

Second, we must bear in mind that traditional modes of governance are not the same thing as tribal politics. To the extent that we recognize the dangers of ethnic factionalism on our continent, we must remember that not all traditional leaders represent tribally- or ethnically-defined entities.

And it goes without saying that electoral politics are not immune to the negative aspects of tribalism (which I believe is quite an understatement in certain contexts).

Part I: Traditional Authority and Democracy

I was recently asked on whose authority do I speak, in light of the fact that I'm not an elected official, but rather a hereditary ruler. This is the first important issue I want to mention here.

The fact that politicians are elected by voters, whereas chiefs and kings are selected through rules of succession, is one area of our alleged "incompatibility with the democratic ideal" (ADF Traditional Governance Issues Paper).

Let's take a moment to think this through. Setting aside the question of whether elections really reflect the will of the people, or bring the best people to power, I would like to point out that modes of selecting traditional leaders are numerous, complex, and almost always involve structured input from constituents.

Yes, it is often royal lineages that produce the future chiefs and kings, and yes, patriarchal systems often prevent women from holding the highest traditional offices. But if our main concern is the effectiveness and accountability of our leaders, then the way they come to power is only part of the picture.

In my view, one doesn't automatically possess all the necessary leadership skills one needs the moment one comes to power. Leadership can be cultivated and nurtured from a young age, as it is in my family, and good leaders continue to learn and hone their skills while they are in office.

Like other leaders, Chiefs and Kings do a lot of learning on the job, and the best, most accountable leaders, are always learning from their peers, as well as their mistakes.

The bottom line is that there is no more of selection, including the most free-and-fair election, that can guarantee that the person in office will have integrity, compassion, and the best interests of his constituents at heart. Accountability in office is the only way to really measure, monitor, and promote these things.

In traditional communities, accountability is achieved in different ways. In the Bafokeng community, my decisions and policies are subject to review in our general meeting, in meetings at the village level, by the community representatives that comprise our Supreme Council, and by the overall Bafokeng administration through formal and informal advisory committees, our internal auditing department, and consultants such as lawyers and accountants.

There are, therefore, numerous ways in which I am held accountable to my constituents, and my effectiveness as a leader stands in direct proportion to these things.
It bears repeating again and again that traditional governance is not-as so many persist in claiming-a fixed set of practices that cannot keep pace with changing times.

The fact is our systems of governance have changed dramatically over the centuries, adapting and responding to new formations, macroeconomic shifts, colonial invasions, and oppressive regimes.

One thing that has kept these forms of governance in place over such a vast swath of the continent is that people understand the mechanisms by which their traditional leaders are chosen, they know how to exert influence over that process, and they know what options exist to sanction or remove leaders who do not act in their best interests.

It seems fair to ask: Does this same degree of accountability and transparency exist in the selection and removal of elected politicians in Africa? Again, as we look at these institutions in terms of fairness, transparency, accountability, etc., please let's focus on the actual track record of these institutions, rather than on some theoretical idealized version.

The processes by which traditional leaders are chosen throughout Africa may not conform to the Western democratic ideal, but that certainly doesn't mean that accountability is absent from the process, or that the electoral system necessarily works better in practice.

Another question that frequently arises is that of participation in traditional structures. There is an assumption that policy decisions in chiefdoms come from the top, without consultation from those whose lives they affect.

Speaking from my own experience in Phokeng, there are many and various ways in which people voice their concerns, both directly through our general meeting, and indirectly through the village headmen and councilors, whose responsibilities include conveying information from the villages to the administration. We use radio call-in shows, print media, as well as the Internet to facilitate the flow of communication between leaders and constituents. In that respect I'm glad
that one of the principles in the African Governance Report is making better use of communication and Internet technologies, because in rural communities like ours especially, tools of e-governance can do much to expand people's opportunities to participate in traditional or state authorities.

The Bafokeng spent R IO,OOO,OOO (approx. $1.5m) in 2000 to install a wide-area intranet system accessed by our schools and local institutions. We have special general meetings for youth and for women to ensure that everyone in our community can enter into the policy- making dialogue.

We value the traditional institutions through which people can speak on their own behalf, and we are constantly devising new ways to ensure that everyone's voice is heard.

The third issue I'd like to address today is conflict resolution. There is a widespread fear that because so many people in Africa take their disputes first to their chiefs and headmen for resolution, and only occasionally to the civil courts, that traditional leaders are somehow nullifying the rights enshrined in our national constitution s and legal codes.

As I've attempted to show with reference to other issues, there are two sides to that coin. People want their problems solved, and are likely to bring them to the judicial arena they trust the most, feel they can rely on, and whose judgments they deem fair.

If local leaders and tribal courts can mete out justice that merits that trust, shouldn't we be celebrating this fact? In fact, the fears about parallel legal codes are often unfounded. In the case of the Bafokeng, our tribal court adjudicates cases under the supervision of an admitted attorney with national qualifications.

Cases are decided with reference to our customary laws, but never in contravention of the South African Constitution or the Bill of Rights. The issue of tribal courts and customary law is still under debate in South Africa, but for the time being, we are able to resolve most disputes at the local level in an atmosphere of trust and fairness.

I would like to add that indigenous conflict resolution mechanisms should not be reserved only for lesser criminal cases-stock theft, land disputes, etc.

In Rwanda, we see that even with reference to the most serious of crimes-genocide-institutions such as gacaca courts (gacaca meaning the grass where the proceedings traditionally took place) can be more effective at reaching meaningful judgments than Western-style courtrooms that cost a lot more, and that may reach less durable decisions.

To sum up this first part of my comments, traditional forms of governance are not elitist, autocratic, and unchanging by definition, nor are they in practice. Under closer scrutiny, and by looking at how these institutions actually operate on the ground, the picture is more complex.

Perhaps in their sheer variety, uncodified flexibility, and ever-changing adaptability, traditional forms of governance in Africa seem unpredictable, risky, and difficult to control or categorize. The way we do things in a Tswana chiefdom in South Africa is different from the way things work in Ghana or Cameroon or Swaziland.

Some of these institutions may be more or less representative, more or less transparent, and even more or less oppressive. What's important is that we ask and answer those questions in a spirit of honest inquiry and open-mindedness. African traditional governance is, by definition, a local and variable phenomenon.

There is no continent-wide model of how it works, or what it does or doesn't do. It is rooted in the histories and cultures and contexts where we find it, and it is very hard to make blanket statements about the thousands of communities across the continent that adhere to some form of traditional rule.

I can say this with confidence, however: as I've traveled around Africa meeting traditional leaders and their people, I've been struck by the deep respect and intense attachment to these institutions that is not only surprising, but also deeply humbling to a South African like me whose people have been so thoroughly and systematically colonized over the past two hundred years.

Can so many millions of people who believe in the importance of these institutions be wrong? Is it not elitist of us to suggest that they simply haven't seen the light [of Western democracy]?

Doesn't that attitude put us in the category of the missionaries and colonialists whose arrogance and presumptions we love to vilify? I'm not opposed to modernizing and democratising and equalizing our societies, but if we ignore our traditional institutions in the process, we do so at our own peril.

Part II: Some Cautionary Notes

I would like to spend a few minutes reflecting on some of the objectives that drew us all here to consider the issue of "governance in a progressing Africa." It's easy to rally around calls for greater participation in policy-making, a better quality of life for our peoples, and sustainable relief from poverty, famine, and conflict.

What's troubling is the extent to which we seem to assume that models borrowed from Western industrialized countries are the best, or even the only, route to the progress we seek.

What I want to suggest is that we tackle the challenge of promoting participation, greater prosperity, and basic human security in Africa by thinking outside the box, challenging our assumptions, and embracing the possibility that Africa need not simply consume the "Washington consensus" of economic reforms that exacerbate the disparity between rich and poor as they open up new markets for foreign consumer goods; or the "democratic reconstruction model" that has failed so spectacularly to bring enduring democracy to post-conflict situations around the globe; or the orthodoxy of universal human rights that often seems to sacrifice the interests of the community for the benefit of the individual.

If there's any substance to the idea of an African Renaissance, it must be based on the simple principle that we must be true to Africa in our ideas, our policies, our reforms, and our actions.

The "issues paper" that was distributed to set the agenda for this session talks about "changes and compromises" underway to bring democracy to Africans, how to make "traditional rulers partners in development," and "integrating chiefs into the institutional structures of modem government." It doesn't take much to read between the lines and see the underlying assumption here.

It goes something like this: if Africa wants to catch up with the rest. of the world (meaning the post-industrial Western world) economically and politically, then we must try harder to do what they do, think what they think, even look how they look.

Since community-based identities and allegiance to traditional leaders has persisted -against expectation--we need to find a way to "integrate " these anachronistic entities, help them to change and compromise, and make sure they don't get in the way of development.

Certainly my own government has been criticized for conceding way too much authority to leaders like me, concessions that pose a "danger that...could seriously upset the bid to achieve authentic and durable democratisation" (Marais 2001: 305).

Well, if that sentiment sums up our agenda here today, then I have to say that I represent a very different point of view. First of all, I will repeat what I said a minute ago. It is not only elitist but also misguided to assume that politicians, academics, and other elites know what's better for African communities than the communities themselves do.

Rather than looking for ways to "inoculate" traditional leaders in the new political system (Marais 2001: 305), shouldn't we be exploring actual local practices to find out what's working and how we can support it? I believe I know what is good and bad about the Bafokeng system of governance in the context of a modem democratic state. But my opinion alone isn't the whole story.

It is for this reason that the Bafokeng have undertaken an ambitious agenda of socio-economic and political baseline studies to get an accurate understanding of how our people feel about the various forms of representation available to them, what their economic status is, and what they desire in terms of a development agenda. I invite you to visit our website and take a look at the findings (www.bafokeng.com).

I have a second objection to this unspoken assumption that chiefs are little more than a throwback to the past who must be managed, and ideally neutralized. For some reason, traditional leaders like myself are often perceived to be exclusively concerned with issues of ethnic politics and cultural heritage-rainmakers who sit under trees talking to other old men--when in fact we represent a great deal more than that.

Maybe the term "traditional leader" is misleading. We are rooted in--but not bound by--tradition. I am the Kgosi of the Bafokeng Nation, but I am also a South African citizen, voter, and taxpayer. I have opinions on national politics, currency fluctuations, World Cup soccer, and the war on terrorism.

I am an architect interested in contemporary design; and I am a businessman overseeing a large minerals-based corporation that competes on a global stage. My identity, concerns, and viewpoints are drawn from the entire range of my experiences, interests, and roles.

I am not unique in this respect, and this is where the assumption that traditional leaders are political and economic fossils is unfounded. In a similar way, the people living in traditionally governed communities are not only locally, but also nationally and globally-minded people, who offer unique and important viewpoints on many matters of the day.

Anything that an elected official can do, so can a traditional leader, sometimes better! Being true to Africa, then, is taking Africans as they are, together with our long- standing values and indigenous institutions.

As I pointed out using the example of Rwanda and gacaca, we shouldn't be looking to inoculate these values and institutions, but rather to acknowledge, celebrate, and even export the best of what is unique to our continent.

The Bafokeng people view NEP AD as one of the most significant and promising ways to do just that. Our own strategic development plan, called Vision 2020, echoes NEPAD's principal objectives in many ways, including economic sustainability, human development, and redressing the unequal relationship between our community and the wider economic context.

In addition to these objectives, though, I want to point out that as a community, we exemplify certain of the principles that NEP AD is hoping to entrench throughout the continent.

These include "African ownership and leadership, as well as broad and deep participation by all sectors of society," and "anchoring the development of Africa on its resources and resourcefulness of its people."

As long-time owners (and defenders!) of our land, as effective stewards of our natural resources, including its minerals, and as active members of a community that is always seeking new ways to ensure maximum participation, we are doing our best to live up to these wider goals, to be true to Africa in our own way.

Finally, let me say that the issue of traditional authorities vis a vis the state is not a trivial one. As traditional leaders and members of traditionally-governed communities, we are not opponents of the national government, but rather its constituents, ready to participate in the wider national debate.

What's needed is a mindset in which traditional structures are viewed as valuable partners, rather than as competitors or opponents, in the formation of African democracies. But the sad reality is that many African governments have refused to support and partner with traditional structures, and have instead, through policy and rhetoric, sought to degrade these institutions.

An important exception in our context is the Memorandum of Understanding that the Bafokeng community signed with local government authorities last year. The objective of this agreement was to forge cooperation between traditional government and local government in all matters of mutual interest, and most particularly on development projects.

Although this agreement garnered national attention and stands as a model for the rest of South Africa, I must point out that it has not lived up to its promise yet. I haven't devoted any time here to a discussion of the land issue, but clearly this is at the heart of much of the tension between traditional authorities and the state.

Ownership of the land, communal land rights, mineral rights, and land allocation are just some of the sensitive issues that often pit the state against traditional authorities. Again, these questions need to be explored and negotiated in their particular contexts, with reference to their particular histories, without assuming that a single policy model can or should apply to all traditionally-governed areas.

In closing, let me say that if tile world is comprised of rule makers and rule followers, then I believe that African leaders have been following the rules established by others for far too long.

We have the ability and the resources to establish and pursue our own versions of participatory governance, responsible and accountable leadership, and prosperous communities that can grow and develop according to standards set by Africans, not by the Western world.

If we want to be true to Africa, we should be eclectic, embracing the tenets of democracy and weaving them together with the indigenous institutions that Africans respect and believe in. In most cases, there is not such a big gap between our local forms of governance and principles such as participation and accountability.

Viewed as full and creative partners in Africa's progress, traditional communities offer and represent a great deal that is inspiring and progressive and worthy of emulation.

Let us not overlook or discount those things out of a misguided deference to Western political theorists. A great deal of African democracy is already in place-whether or not it goes by that name-and we should seek it out, protect it, and promote it with pride and determination.