Saul J, Thanks a ton. But forgive me if I simply take the insinuation about a book as a compliment. Unfortunately, I cannot manage to be uncontroversial coming all the way from Kaatong. Cheers, Modou ----- Original Message ----- From: "SS.Jawara" <[log in to unmask]> To: <[log in to unmask]> Sent: Friday, August 16, 2002 5:49 PM Subject: Re: The Fisherman's Tale - 2 > Modou: > > > Well written. I will be expecting to see these documents in a book form > and i hope you will persist keeping watchful eyes on Gambian politics on a > surface with an instrument such as your pen. Some of your ideas might be a > little controversial to me, but it is how you perceive things. > > A skillfully written document! > > Thanks for sharing! > > SS.Jawara > Stockholm, Sweden. > > > ----- Original Message ----- > From: "Momodou S Sidibeh" <[log in to unmask]> > To: <[log in to unmask]> > Sent: Thursday, August 15, 2002 5:04 PM > Subject: The Fisherman's Tale - 2 > > > > > The Fisherman's Tale - 2 > > > > > Immediately after the presidential elections last October, there seemed to > be widespread assumption that the struggle for popular power was over and > that since the main opposition UDP conceded defeat, it was just appropriate > to congratulate the winner, close ranks behind our respective national > assembly members, put an end to the bilious inter-party quarrels and get on > with the urgent task of nation-building. There was widespread fear that the > disappointments of the opposition parties could generate fierce and ugly > recriminations of massive vote rigging prompting leaders to declare the > elections as unfair. But what happened seemed quite unpredictable. Not only > did the opposition not condemn the elections as flawed or unfair, supporters > of the victorious party went on a rampage beating up political opponents as > the government itself summarily terminated the employments of civil servants > thought to be sympathetic to the opposition. This heralded the opening of a > new and ugly chapter in Gambian politics. > > > > The electoral campaign had throttled into high gear since the APRC > government repealed decree 89 - one of its most notorious - that banned the > old political parties and some politicians of the first republic from active > politics barely three months before the presidential elections. The move > threw the whole political spectrum into confusion, as parties pondered > alignments and strategies that would on the one hand deliver them from > oblivion while on the other hand ensure that their combined strengths > aggregate to an electoral overthrow of the heavy-handed, bad boy of Gambian > politics. This proved to be a task more awesome than the parties themselves > imagined. The NCP, PPP, and GPP were not only faced with the problem of > resurrecting themselves from a submarine existence, they had to do that with > an organisational vigour and administrative clout that would create for them > new, distinct, respectable, magnetic identities. All three parties quickly > realized that the voter and supporter topography had been greatly altered > and that managing new rivalries became more pressing than administering an > all too obviously rickety coalition. PPP and NCP, major rivals during the > first republic were supposed to temporarily stop crossing swords to join > hands with the UDP, a party whose mass base is largely composed of old > diehard supporters of the former two. It was also supposed that PDOIS, > waging a lonely campaign on political morality and ethical economics for > more than fifteen years against the entire political establishment would > suddenly coalesce with a group consisting of lackluster politicians of > dubious integrity and with momentarily suppressed mercenary whims. > > > > The whole idea of this coalition was based on a mathematical formula which > supposed that the entire opposition's collective dislike of APRC rule was > greater than loyalty to their own identity, political platform, individual > ambition, deep-seated personal rivalries, and historical inter-party > tensions between them; all of these variables, taken together, command more > importance than most people believe. It would have required a miracle, > under the circumstances, for a coalition to be readily built on the > framework of some tactical alliance in time for the elections. > > > > A quick look at the structures of and the decision-making process in all > mainstream political parties in the Gambia would show that they all are > quite undemocratic. Yet without reservation, we expect that once voted into > power these very undemocratic parties must produce governments that operate > according to constitutional edicts, promote and defend civil liberties and > operate representative, responsible and accountable governments. Because > members and supporters of these parties do not engage in any form of > rigorous debate free from persecution mania and pathological jealousies, > where national issues are interrogated and prioritized on that bases, > affiliation with a party is generally not the outcome of the contest of > ideas. Some other forces must operate to determine political allegiance and > influence willing compliance. Deciding forces in Gambian politics have to do > directly with how power is exercised. These are some of the forces I would > like to discuss here. > > > > The Struggle for Rice > > > > Approaching it from the east, from the direction of Bundung, the new > SerreKunda market, with its imposing brick façade, stands out as a mammoth > insignia to a nation desperately reinventing itself. Its gray, high walls > bemoan a replica of the Mile Two prisons, fearsomely confining all its > contents, including air and light. Yet its smooth curves and corners that > look like mock minarets suggest a Dogon architecture imitating the mosque of > Jenne freed of her wooden splinters that serve as supports during repairs to > the building. The overall impression is that of strict confinement subdued > by religious undertones. > > > > But this abstract impressionism is quickly whisked away by the captivating > decor of colours and materials that dress up the walls. You see rows upon > rows of imported baseball caps, Karl Kani jeans, Tommy Hillfiger jumpsuits, > huge sports trunks, Fubu t-shirts, Reebok sneakers and an assortment of > Nike's air jordans, all manufactured in the slave factories of South East > Asia, the outsourcing el-dorado of the "superbrands". Hand-woven leather > bags and sandals, mostly from Senegal, also compete for space with Dutch wax > clothing, and a curious supply of plastic toys, Gambia's ubiquitous mades-in > Hong-Kong. This decor hanging ten feet up the walls is an extension of space > that the tables cannot provide on the outside. So you opt for the inside and > you get zapped. Instantly. The yelling and the laughter, the pungent smell > of "netetu" and dried fish is hopelessly dissolved by the fragrance of local > incense and the heavy whiff of perfumed clothing; the shrills of bargaining > duos, the infectious smiles, embrace and laughter from surprise encounters, > and the constant blare of the latest mbalax tunes from scores of competing > cassette players, the unbearable heat, and the abominable dust all militate > against your sanity. You don't only have to stand the tiff at the butchers' > but his licensed arrogance as well. He carelessly tosses a chunk of meat and > bone onto the scales driving the weights up. The he quickly supplements the > ritual by capping your dinner with bits of tripe and tells you, one kilo, > twenty dalasi, take it or leave it. Like the fishmongers, being nice to > customers is an unheard of luxury. Demand for meat and fish is permanently > high just as supply is permanently low. This is the only place in the entire > marketplace where you do not negotiate. > > > > Everything else is for bargaining: you negotiate your steps, pace and space, > the price of peanut butter, a mound of bush spinach, bitter tomatoes, or > even a meter of mosquito netting. You can bargain for a fairer price for > bitter-cola, a cup of palm kernel oil, cuts of shea butter or a tiny piece > of smoked cat-fish, or sea snail. The place is dangerously crowded, with > thousands of women, Gambian women of all shapes and sizes, in their Friday > bests laundered and perfumed to make you dizzy; throwing you momentarily off > balance with gleaming smiles that expose gray-black gums. Their distractive > beauty, and the sophistication of the market place makes men hopeless > shoppers. Because the Gambian personality disapproves of anonymous humans, > many assume that part of the market population that remains unfamiliar must > include an unknown quantity of jinns; conveniently forgetting that they are > themselves, per the same reasoning, members of that club of jinns in the > eyes of those to whom they remain strangers. The market is not just a place > of old-fashioned economic transactions. It is also an important venue for > social interaction, with a sophistication that beats any stock exchange > anywhere. You do not just have to get food for the family, you have to cook > the best that your purse strings allow, procuring your ingredients under > conditions of extreme and deafening chaos, while maintaining your sanity to > be all smiles even when your husband comes home expecting a bowl of dinner > for which he clearly did not provide adequate fish money! > > Every single day, women troop to the market to negotiate the daily calorie > intake of oversized families. Every, single, day. The permanent struggle for > rice begins here; a struggle that, because it is biologically more > compelling than any other, determines all kinds of allegiances. > > > > The Struggle For Rice > > > > Gambian women have remained food crops cultivators for as long as we can > remember. Working in the fields all year round, intermittently switch form > the rice fields to the vegetable gardens during planting seasons, modern > Africa has survived thanks to the back-breaking toil of our mothers and > sisters. Since the commercialization of Gambian agriculture in the 1920s, > men invariably proved their manhood by concentrating on groundnut > cultivation directly and indirectly sustaining the colonial economy while > funding a feudal system that fed a backward patriarchy. They remained > pauperized ever since and no wonder, they could never understand why, on > their own land, houses and huts they constructed should have to be paid for > as yard or hut tax to the colonial administrators. The anarchic and violent > character of Gambian Islam had, by the turn of the century, began to > subside; and by the time Musa Molloh was banished to Sierra Leone in 1919, > people on both banks of the river had settled into a relatively peaceful > coexistence with the colonial administration. Groundnuts, sorghum, and > millet being major cash crops were cultivated in cleared fields while > cassava and maize, mostly grown for the local market remained important but > secondary. Cultivation of "findi" once important to the Gambian diet, > seemed to have disappeared since the late sixties perhaps because its > production is quite labour-intensive, and because it had to give space to > cash crop farming. (That trend seems to be reversed now). Thanks to this > sustained agricultural production, Gambians never suffered the kind of > widespread famine that was prevalent during the past centuries throughout > the Senegambia region. On the other hand seasonal hunger, caused by > intermittent poor rainfall and drought occasionally plunged the entire > country into harrowing food shortages that in turn forced entire communities > to live on the rim of chronic malnutrition. The hungry season in Gambia is > chronicled in a number of history books. In the rural areas people fed on > grain stored in granaries until the next harvest. But depending on the size > of the previous harvest, they may have to borrow food and even seeds for the > next planting season when diets cannot be sufficiently supplemented with > fruits, edible roots and leaves. Eventually, farmers end on getting indebted > to petty traders and private groundnuts merchants, who made their wealth > from this trade and interest rate hikes tied to loans to farmers. Momodou > Musa Njai, Anton Tabal, and many others made their wealth in part by > capitalizing on the hunger endured by Gambian peasants. > > > > Farmers got a better deal on these loans when the cooperative union was > formed after independence in 1965. Gambian diets were further subsidized > through the school feeding program that brought crack wheat, powdered milk, > canned beef and kangaroo meat, powdered eggs and vegetable oil to the > schools. Not only students dined on wheat "benachin" but many teachers, > especially head-.masters, stole a lot of this food to feed their families or > otherwise sold it at the black market. But food was also donated by > international agencies to relieve hunger in the country. And when it arrived > it found politically designed ready-made channels for its distribution. > > > > "Jawara maano" was an apt label for rice, flower, and oil distributed in > rural areas on behalf of the World Food Program by the PPP government. > Members of the ruling party quickly claimed that internationally donated > food was forthcoming thanks to the wise intervention and love of their dear > leader Sir Dawda. While there had been incidents of denying opponents of the > PPP this food, it perhaps was not as widespread as used to be claimed; yet > by labeling the food Jawara "maano", known members of the opposition were > more likely to suffer the consequences of uneven distribution, if not > outright denial. And like many things Gambian, policy implementation does > not have to be officially sanctioned especially if the prevailing practice > serves the political interests of the ruling party. So since the 1970s, the > decade of the first international oil crisis and the birth of the NCP, the > struggle for political power became equivalent to the struggle for rice. You > not only are guaranteed a job, a government contract, an import license, a > scholarship for your son, a bank loan. You are also slated to receive a fair > share of donated food. As far as I know, much of this formula remains true > to this day. > > > > Barely months after seizing power in 1994, Yaya Jammeh "maano" arrived on > Gambian soil finding a ready-made distribution network in the form of the > July 22 Movement. Throughout the country, Movement militants controlled the > marketing of this rice, partly expanding and consolidating the APRC's mass > base while strengthening the financial and administrative clout of the July > 22 Movement itself. Yaya Jammeh rice, even though it was of poorer quality > as it contained a lot of pickings, quickly gained on market share largely > because it was sold at a price well below that of other brands. But the July > 22 Movement, an instrument created to bring about a revolution for which > there had not been any political or ideological preparation, and for which > Gambian society was generally precocious could only survive through > coercion. Through intimidation and using iron-fist methods, it laid the > groundwork for the APRC victory in the 1996 elections, and was as a result > the harbinger of what could be seen as the second revolution within the > APRC. > > > > Yai Kompin Power > > > > The legitimacy that the '96 victory accorded the APRC was essential for the > party to consolidate its social base. Unable to sustain continuous > intimidation of political opponents without instigating both local and > international condemnation, the party simply reverted to using the most > refined and tested method of winning allegiance, beating even the PPP at a > game it previously excelled at, namely patronage. But because patronage > required the presence of a figure from which all power emanates and around > which all planet-politicians revolve, Yahya Jammeh had to become a Sultan > extraordinaire. Lacking in revolutionary, traditional and even > constitutional legitimacy, he had to make his power coterminous with that of > the state, exercising personal control over both the security apparatus and > the administration. From him extends an intricate web of connections from > State House to the remotest corners of the country with nerve centers > comprising of party militants, businessmen, technocrats, "yai kompins" all > of whom must expressly demonstrate personal loyalty to the President in an > unending chain of patron-client relationships. (Yai Kompin is a wollof word > that roughly translates to Mother of a local association, or simply > chairwoman). In droves, former activists and power brokers of both the PPP > and the NCP joined the APRC bringing with them social connections which went > on to expand and consolidate the latter's fledging network of supporters. > > One well-known former NCP yai kompin, previously a staunch vote canvasser > for Jibou Jagne simply joined the Jammeh gravy train virtually carrying > along the entire NCP supporter base in Serre-Kunda East. Like all other yai > kompins, she wields enormous social power, distributing kilograms of rice > and sugar to all party loyalists. Tons of this food were received directly > from the President at the beginning of the last Ramadan. Employment > opportunities, government contracts, presidential subsidies to pay for the > Hajj to Mecca, and other benefits all are procured through this massive > distribution pipeline - connections that web together party patrons and > clients. In the run up to the elections they controlled local propaganda and > designed strategies for winning votes, donning to supporters hundreds of > APRC campaign t-shirts. They harried and startled up UDP supporters from the > streets by blowing whistles after them and screaming "Yellow Fever" for > their yellow colored garb; or they would scream verbal twits such as "Darboe > dolominna" (Darboe the drunkard). UDPians would usually retort with "Jammeh > daaba" (Jammeh the large-mouthed"). (These were the humorous sides of the > electoral campaign that we missed). > > > > All of this fabric of grass-roots support derives from a system of > dependency that provides material incentives for the effective procurement > of political power and privilege. And as more money is poured into the > country in the form of aid and loans, this network becomes bigger and > stronger even as the president also becomes more powerful. One only has to > pick from the free flowing veneration gushing from National Assembly members > to understand that President Jammeh is quickly becoming a cult figure. That > is not just a danger to Gambia's evolution towards an inclusive democracy > where human and civic rights are respected, but even those institutions and > individuals who could otherwise advice the President without fear on matters > of public policy may gradually lose the moral wherewithal to do so. > > > > Naturally, if Gambians are turning in droves to the president to show > allegiance, one should conclude that he must enjoy some kind of legitimacy? > He has since July 1994 gradually earned legitimacy as a national leader > because of development projects his governments carried out; and area whose > true impact seems largely misjudged by most of us in the Diaspora. But > before going into that, I would like to briefly discuss the nature of > poverty in the Gambia and how it impacts on thinking and values. > > > > Theory of Relativity > > > > The landscape is generally hot, ancient, and unchanging. Peasants continue > to toil the land hoping that returns from agricultural produce would surpass > the previous season's. Once in a while heads of large families would harvest > handsomely, so that the old man gets a second wife, buys a new bicycle or a > transistor radio, cuts new school uniforms for the boys. But generally, it > is never this rosy for most families. Unable to provide aluminium roofing > for the house, they manage to barely survive during the coming rains. Unable > to save a penny after a lifetime of toil much of their time is spent > worrying over the next meal. The economic conditions are almost the same for > the armies of unemployed living on the fringes of sprawling urban centers. > Those who are gainfully employed are barely able to manage maintaining > decent meals for their nuclear families as they subsidize relatives who are > much worse off. Scraping a living in the suburbs of Serre-Kunda has become > an art form. Some would go to the market everyday without a penny but would > come home with sufficient condiments to prepare a meal; they steal from the > baskets of others in the hustle and congestion; others would go there simply > to eavesdrop on conversations about an actual christening ceremony just to > scud to the venue for a free meal. My aunt tells me that some would openly > beg or otherwise steal food at these ceremonies to take home to their hungry > ones. The latest trick is to barge into a compound pretending that you were > told about a ceremony. The unsuspecting inhabitants will simply rectify you > and direct you to the correct address! People are so poor they will do > anything to survive. They would steal clothes you hung to dry; they would > steal bricks you made for your construction work; some would even dare carry > away your meat stew from your kitchen! Those of us living overseas have had > the most original experiences of such social scams. You send money home to > be divided, and dad would cheat mum of her share; your cousin who is > supposed to finance your mansion will send you photographic evidence of a > finished house only to find that there was nothing at all when you pay him a > surprise visit. > > A friend of mine shipped home a new car to be operated as a local taxi. > Because of troubles with his own family he decided to let his mother-in-law > manage the business and handed her a savings book where deposits are to be > registered every fourteen days or so. When he journeyed home with his wife > for a long awaited holiday, he decided to take a look at the savings book > while in his car on the way to Brikama. Disbelieving his eyes, he summoned > the driver to stop at the side of the highway. Squinting, he robbed his eyes > vigorously to take another look at the figures. His wife assured him that it > was right, 250 dalasi only! He got behind the wheels himself and drove like > mad to his in-law. Wildly waving the savings book he seized an axe chasing > his half naked mother-in-law around the huge compound. The entire > neighbourhood instantly filled up with amused spectators. > > > > All of us have heard or experienced such stories of deceit. Gambians are > becoming more desperate. Without remittances from family members living and > working overseas many more would be facing despair; people are worried about > their inadequate take home pay; worried about the future of their children. > They are permanently disturbed by the plight of neighbours and relations who > are worse off; about inflation eating into their pay cheques. Farmers are > worried about the effects of failed crops as sporadic rains becomes even > more sporadic, about unsold crops, their state of health, the plight of > their tired wives, the spiraling cost of rice, candles, fish and medicine. > Constant worry is their lifelong companion; their lives are giant > experiences of long endless nightmares that are sparsely punctuated with > heavy doses of traditional merry making! Their lives are so tasteless they > compensate it with huge gulps of sugar and oil eventually falling prey to > hypertension and diabetes. And if you have not understood Einstein's theory > of relativity, here is a humble help! Constant worry means pain for the > great majority of Gambians. Because they are always in psychological pain, > they experience time to be much longer that it actually is. Ten years in the > West becomes equivalent to twenty-five years in Gambia! So Gambians age > quickly, growing much older by your next visit. If you live a sweet life, > time flies for you. If you live a hard life, time crawls. (Just compare > yourself with those childhood friends who have it hard in Gambia!). In a > permanent state of despair and helplessness, people's moral fiber gradually > weakens, giving way to an encroaching tendency to commit crime, cheat, steal > and lie, to make life just a little bit more bearable. Thorough honesty > becomes almost a stoical feat for which a very few are capable. A ubiquitous > complaint of overseas-based Gambians is the inability to find an honest > Gambian at home! Many fail however, to make the connection that any kind of > morality is buttressed by production relations prevalent in society. Gambian > society, must also, in spite of its lauded biological closeness, be looked > at along class lines. So this is the socio-economic milieu in which we have > to imagine the ascent of a leader who does not only promise development > projects, but delivers much of it and thereby changing the ancient landscape > forever. > > > > The Infrastructure Debate > > > > At a personal level, I do not think any aspect of debate on APRC rule and > politics has been as poorly conducted as that which pertained to the > development projects governments of the said party carried out. Well before > the October elections and months after it Gambia-L pundits invariably > addressed this issue with intellectually fraudulent and blowzy doublespeak. > It was easy to see that much of the debate, precisely because it was > polluted with politics, turned out to be nothing more than clunky > anti-Jammeh propaganda. What seemed unestablished at the onset was that > irrespective of economic policies, development can hardly take place in the > absence of a functioning infrastructure. There must be a reasonably > nation-wide and quality road network, telecommunications facilities, > adequate utility supply (water and electricity), adequate primary health > care, and above all an educational system geared towards producing a skilled > workforce. In spite of all its shortcomings, the Jammeh regime invested > heavily and seriously in all these, producing under the circumstances, > highly satisfactory results! Yet serious, well-meaning, well-schooled > Gambians cannot bring themselves to say so! Of course, you can always find > fault with the Jammeh regime, and it is perhaps true that it never got its > priorities right. Moreover, schools without books or qualified teachers can > hardly be called schools; and clinics and hospitals without medicine and > doctors may simply be well-lit charnel houses. But in a society where > governments hardly built anything at all, new schools and clinics are seen > by the poor not only as welcome dents in the empty landscape, but they > figure that empty buildings are better than no buildings at all; that a > university that produces half-baked graduates is better than no university > at all; that paved roads are a very welcome departure from hundreds of > kilometers of graveled pot-holes that powder your clothes and greasy hair > with "coco puns"; dusty roads which together with leaded petrol fumes from > dump away vehicles account for much of the respiratory illnesses Gambians > suffer from. Perhaps many reasoned that commending the APRC government for a > job well done was equivalent to depriving the UDP or the coalition of > propaganda scores. So it took our friend Mr. Asbjorn Nordam to remind us > that the successful development projects do not belong to Jammeh or the APRC > but to Gambia! And now dear reader, my point is: if overseas based, > educated, well fed, economically secure, active cyber dwelling Gambians > cannot see the difference between what belongs to Jammeh and what belongs to > Gambia, how will hungry, poor, spiritually drained, pained, exhausted, and > illiterate Gambians such as I described earlier, see the same difference? > How? > > > > Not so long ago Buharry Gassama provoked a discussion on Gambia-L by asking > why the Western media seems always hell bent on providing visual images of > Africa in the forms of grass huts and dusty cave-like dwellings, or > something to that effect. Western journalists deliberately portray Africa as > dusty and primitive but their actions do not produce the intended effect. > Those images are so disturbing and embarrassing to Africans that almost all > of us automatically desire to change them! And throughout our lives our own > background of relative material poverty compels us to alter the images as > soon as we get the means of doing so. As a result, from Sweden and from all > over the West the first thing Gambians do is to commission the construction > of dwellings for our families and ourselves as a way to escape from that > primitive imagery that we have come to detest so much. By our actions we > seem to make the strongest possible statement, carved in stone and bricks > (!) that our own development is coextensive with putting up huge mansions > (by average Gambian standards) caring little whether or not the immediate > neighbourhood is a colony of beggars. That way we unknowingly reinforce the > mentality that development, indeed, consists of putting up brick and marble > structures! > > > > Conclusion > > > > Then down the road comes Y.J.J! He preached revolution and altered the > landscape. He rebuilds the airport to everyone's delight; he builds > excellent second class roads, builds a university, hospitals, clinics, wires > up the country to the web, brings on television, and so on and so forth. The > poor, relying only on their memory immediately recognize that more > government sponsored structures have been placed on the Gambian landscape > during the last six years of the 20th century than the previous ninety-four. > Right here, the most important theoretical explanation that immediately > comes to mind is Marxian dialectics. Changes in the environment, even if > not directly caused by changes in the mode of production, can affect > consciousness in ways so important as to be able to reciprocally affect the > very environment that changed it in the first place. Yahya Jammeh has not > just shown that it is possible to "develop" the country. He has also created > a relativistic precedent that compels the performance of subsequent leaders > to be compared to what he did. And not only that. > > The development of the infrastructure of an underdeveloped country helps > forge a national consciousness. Citizens become hopeful of the future and > readily compare their progress with that which obtains in neigbouring > countries. This induces a heightened sense of nationalism and many upbeat > citizens will readily assure you that Gambia will soon become king of the > pygmies. Those who are skeptical are readily billed as unpatriotic, drooling > doubters stubbornly unwilling to see the lights from Singapore. Progress > made could easily get to the leaders head, and if external conditions are > unfortunate enough, he might just crush the castles by provoking a senseless > war. Remember Issayas Afeworki of Eritrea? > > > > So what should we expect? Studying the deliberations and motions of the > house of parliament since the 1970s one quickly learns that the most > consistent issues raised by the opposition NCP deal with matters relating to > our country's primitive infrastructure. Questions about bridges and roads to > rice paddies, schools and clinics, ambulance services in the provinces, > numbers of teachers and doctors, and agriculture related issues. These were > the issues that were invariably raised. Now that the APRC government is > seen to be tackling these questions well, is there any politics left for the > NCP to pursue? And when Sheriff Dibba jumped fence, why should all the urban > poor, and flunkies of the old networks stay around as the gravy train starts > to move? The annals of Gambian political history is replete with soggy cases > of cross-carpeting. Swarms of independent candidates, members of the > official opposition, without a twinge of compunction, simply rescind > representation of their constituencies and join the party in power. > Commitment to an ideology or a cogent system of political beliefs never > comes to mind. The ruling idea is simply that which extols sectional and > personal advantage. Many reason that PPP has had its chance and shared the > spoils of power. Now it is their turn to wine and dine. And true to its > character, a sultanist order readily punishes those who fail to step in line > with the dear leader. This is one major reason why the UDP will become > gradually disarmed and weakened. > > > > The struggle for rice, i.e. the poverty induced clamouring for economic and > social advantage through the acquisition of political power combined with > the sense of hope that development projects generate are the principal > reasons behind the APRC victory of the October 2001 elections. It is thus > safe to assume that social values in Gambia are not reflected in her > Constitutional edicts. We should not believe that because her draft > constitution was fairly well debated and discussed during the period of > transition in 1996, it must therefore rule Gambian political conduct. > > > > Epilogue > > > > The APRC, like the Rawlings coup in Ghana in 1981, has failed in its > declared mission of bringing about a social and political transformation of > the Gambian polity. After its victory at the 1996 elections it made a u-turn > pursuing conservative and backward neo-colonial policies, subjecting the > domestic economy to the interests of private capital and betraying the > popular aspirations of the toiling masses of Gambian workers and peasants. > > We have witnessed on Gambia-L and even the local media, the stifling of > progressive debate in favour of radical liberal chic thrusting a party like > the UDP as the true democratic alternative to an increasingly autocratic > APRC. It promoted a revisionist politics that barely concealed its hope to > resaddle into power the old and discredited political order that hopelessly > proved, for three decades, its incapacity to seriously transform Gambia's > social formation. > > > > Progressive Gambians of all democratic persuasions must cease the time to > redirect responsible discourse towards encouraging the Jammeh government to > carry out its good work of developing Gambia's infrastructure while > criticizing it for failing to put up popular democratic structures that > would eventually enhance the struggles of ordinary Gambians toward social > liberation. We must as well vigorously resist efforts by the regime to > undermine the authority and independence of democratic institutions such as > the judiciary and the press. Likewise, we should insist that the democratic > and Human Rights of Gambians be observed and respected and those responsible > for the massacre of students in April 2000 must be brought to justice; and > that a reinvestigation be launched into the death of Koro Ceesay; and that > Dumo and his co-detainees should be released from incarceration. Then just > perhaps, as one thousand women ride along Kanilai Boulevard to the > president's farm, it may occur to one of them that they could be earning a > steady income, working on state farms geared towards growing and processing > fruits and vegetables for export. > > > > [Imperialist cultural dominance of which the educated elite are the first > victims prevent us from thinking independently: Years ago, in a critically > acclaimed documentary called the Roots of Music that ran on Swedish > television, it was categorically asserted that the roots of all modern > Western music lies in the Gambian region of the old Mali empire! Yet if you > telephone some major banks in the Gambia today, as you wait to get hooked > up, the music you hear is not any soothing original classical Gambia kora. > You hear old man Mozart in the background! Likewise the premier IT-company > in Gambia calls itself Quantum (!), a name that is absolutely meaningless to > 99 percent of all Gambians. Happy are the victims of cultural amnesia.] > > > > Wishing you all a great week end and thanking you for your time. > > > > Momodou S Sidibeh, > > > > Stockholm / Kaatong. > > > > > > ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ > > To unsubscribe/subscribe or view archives of postings, go to the Gambia-L > Web interface > at: http://maelstrom.stjohns.edu/archives/gambia-l.html > To contact the List Management, please send an e-mail to: > [log in to unmask] > > ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ > > ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ > > To unsubscribe/subscribe or view archives of postings, go to the Gambia-L Web interface > at: http://maelstrom.stjohns.edu/archives/gambia-l.html > To contact the List Management, please send an e-mail to: > [log in to unmask] > > ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ To unsubscribe/subscribe or view archives of postings, go to the Gambia-L Web interface at: http://maelstrom.stjohns.edu/archives/gambia-l.html To contact the List Management, please send an e-mail to: [log in to unmask] ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~