The Observer view on how Burundi’s fate has lessons across Africa

http://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2015/may/17/observer-view-democracy-in-africa

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It could be argued that what happens in Burundi does not matter much in the overall scheme of things. But to say so would be wrong. This small central African country, the scene last week of a thwarted military coup, has struggled to establish democratic institutions after a long civil war that ended, not wholly convincingly, in 2005. It was important, and not just for Burundians, that their brittle bid for responsible, accountable self-governance not be hijacked by a bunch of self-interested, bumbling generals, as has happened so often elsewhere.

Luckily for Burundi, so great was the mutineers’ incompetence that they failed to grasp the need to seize the state radio station, a prerequisite for any successful African coup. They also failed to ascertain the loyalties of the army chief and the police. After 48 hours of confusion and sporadic violence, their plot flopped. Now they have surrendered, throwing themselves on the uncertain mercy of President Pierre Nkurunziza, the man they sought to overthrow. What did not happen in Burundi last week has wider import, too.

Despite a complicated, archetypically African post-colonial legacy – it gained independence from Belgium in 1962 – the country did not suddenly fall apart. Inherent ethnic tensions between majority Hutus and minority Tutsis did not erupt, as in the past, into bloody confrontation. And although tens of thousands of Burundians fled the country, Rwanda and other regional states did not directly intervene, choosing instead the wiser course of pressing for a peaceful resolution.

It might also be argued that Burundi’s troubles, typically, were both unavoidable and unforeseeable. But this, too, would be untrue. Nkurunziza’s unjustifiable insistence on seeking a third consecutive term, in defiance of the spirit, if not the letter of the constitution, was the wholly predictable spark that ignited this particular political bonfire. There was no shortage of warnings. Independent monitors at International Crisis Group reported a month ago that his determination to stand again in elections due on 26 June was highly provocative. There was evidence, they said, the regime was manipulating state institutions and media, and sidelining the Catholic church and civil society organisations, to ensure a favourable result. These concerns have not diminished, post-coup. Nkurunziza now seems even more determined to impose his will on voters who, given a fair vote, might very well decide to jettison him. The celebrations in the capital, Bujumbura, that greeted news of his toppling, while premature, strongly indicated a desire for change. The plotters, by acting as they did, put themselves in the wrong. But this does not make Nkurunziza right. His best course is to retire with dignity.

Events in Burundi, taken as a microcosm, reflect the much larger, ongoing debate about the applicability and efficacy of western-style democracy in Africa. In refusing to relinquish power, Nkurunziza can point to numerous, albeit usually unfortunate precedents. The most notorious, from a western viewpoint, is that of Robert Mugabe who came to power in Zimbabwe in 1980 and is still, in theory, in charge, aged 91. Mugabe, too, is surrounded by swirling coup rumours and supposed plots, yet clings on oblivious to the best interests of his people and the claims of sound democratic governance. In Uganda, similarly, Yoweri Museveni, who came to power in 1986, has become de facto president for life. This despite a 1995 constitution, now amended, that originally stipulated a two-term limit. In Cameroon, another president, Paul Biya has removed term limits; his run in office, begun in 1982, shows no sign of ending. And now there are suggestions in Rwanda, Burundi’s close neighbour, that Paul Kagame, at the helm in one capacity or another sincPresident e 2000, may also override the constitution he helped enact and seek re-election in 2017.

Some in Africa argue that, in practical terms, none of this matters terribly much. If a strong, charismatic leader can bring stability and prosperity to a developing country recovering, as so many African countries are, from the depredations of European imperial conquest and capitalist exploitation, then who in the west has an absolute moral right to complain? As a colonial power, Britain was hardly renowned for its attachment to the democratic process. And it is true the present preoccupation with human rights and other ostensibly universal standards, symbolised by the supposedly Africa-bashing International Criminal Court, is a phenomenon with which the pith-helmeted governors and regional administrators of the days of empire did not have to contend.

There are other reasons not to rush to judgment. Democracy, traditionally defined, has proved something of a disappointment in some of the many African countries that joined the 1990s charge towards multiparty systems. South Africa and Nigeria, Africa’s two biggest economies, both made the transition, in different ways and at a different pace. Both are relatively successful in terms of genuinely competitive, freewheeling elections, with Nigeria in particular distinguished by March’s calm handover of power. But both remain among the world’s most economically unequal societies. For too many at the bottom, democracy has brought no tangible dividends. In countries such as Angola and Mozambique, the reluctance of those who led the liberation struggle to surrender power has proved another enduring barrier to effective democracy. José Eduardo dos Santos, Angola’s president since 1979, made his name as a leading cadre in the MPLA (Popular Movement for the Liberation of Angola). He has been living off it ever since. Likewise, the tainted heroes of Frelimo in Mozambique. As with Mugabe, a leader of Zanu (Zimbabwe African National Union), such revolutionary credentials have proved an invincible electoral asset – and an illiberal drag on progressive, inclusive politics.

The evident limitations of African democracy may also be explained in terms of the corruption and impunity that seem so pervasive. The African Union estimates £93bn is stolen one way or another each year, much of it by officials employed by notionally democratic regimes. Then there is the inescapable impact, despite sub-Saharan Africa’s recent economic advances, of the endemic poverty, lack of education and underdevelopment that plague so many countries and distort public discourse. In such conditions, votes are easily bought, opposing voices too easily ignored or silenced. Yet all that said, the imperfect, flawed but irreplaceable ideal of democracy – of a system of national governance and a set of values that are owned and controlled by all the people, not just by wealthy or powerful elites – is an ideal to which Africans, like everybody else, are fully entitled and fully deserve. No country is an island.

Every time a coup like that in Burundi is attempted, it threatens us all. Every time a president subverts a lawful constitution or outstays his welcome, the hazards are shared. Every time democracy is diminished or usurped, we are all diminished too.