The Trouble With Nigeria by Chinua Achebe (1983)

Political and biographical background

Nigeria attained independence in 1960. Twenty-three years later author, poet and essayist Chinua Achebe published this extended essay briskly summarising the problems his nation faced. Before we get to the text, there’s some interesting biography to point out. Achebe had published his last novel, A Man of The People in 1966, so what had he been doing between 1966 and this publication 16 years later?

Soon after the publication of A Man of The People Nigeria experienced the 1966 military coup. This in turn led to the Nigerian Civil War, triggered when the region of Biafra broke away from Nigeria in 1967.  In fact some in the military thought the ending of A Man of The People so closely paralleled the real-life coup that he must have had some foreknowledge so he had to flee to Biafra to escape arrest. Achebe supported Biafran independence and acted as ambassador for the new state, travelling to European and North American cities to drum up support. He helped draft a declaration of principles for the new country. The Achebe family narrowly escaped disaster several times during the war, including a bombing of their house. The general disruption favoured the form of poetry and in 1971 he published the collection ‘Beware, Soul Brother.

With the end of the war, he returned to the family home in Ogidi only to find it destroyed. His passport was revoked. He took up a teaching post at the University of Nigeria. In 1971 he helped set up two literary magazines. In 1972 he published a collection of short stories, ‘Girls At War’.

In 1972 he took up a teaching post at the University of Amherst, later adding a visiting professorship at the University of Connecticut. It was at Amherst in 1975 that he gave his famous lecture accusing Joseph Conrad of being a ‘racist’.

Achebe returned to the University of Nigeria in 1976, where he held a chair in English until his retirement in 1981. He edited the literary journal Okike and became active with the left-leaning People’s Redemption Party (PRP). In 1983, he became the party’s deputy national vice-president and it was now, after 17 busy, traumatic, and globetrotting years, that he published the pamphlet under review, ‘The Trouble with Nigeria’. Its publication was timed to coincide with the upcoming elections i.e. it was a direct and controversial intervention in Nigerian politics by someone who was, by now, a veteran of political commentary.

The Trouble with Nigeria

In this brief pamphlet Achebe set out to enumerate Nigeria’s many problems and suggest solutions. His stated aim was to challenge the resignation and negativity of his fellow Nigerians ‘which cripple our aspiration and inhibit our chances of becoming a modern and attractive country’. He aimed to inspire them to reject the old habits which, in his opinion, prevented Nigeria from becoming a modern country.

The book became famous because it attributed the fundamental failure of Nigeria on its disastrously bad leadership. With the right leadership he thought the country could resolve its many problems such as: tribalism, lack of patriotism, social injustice, the cult of mediocrity indiscipline and, of course, corruption. The essay is divided into ten parts.

Rather than give a long conclusion at the end I’ll comment on the points he raises chapter by chapter.

1. Where the problem lies (3 pages)

The trouble with Nigeria is simply and squarely a failure of leadership. There is nothing basically wrong with the Nigerian character. There is nothing wrong with the Nigerian land or climate or water or air or anything else. The Nigerian problem is the unwillingness or inability of its leaders to rise to the responsibility, to the challenge of personal example, which are the hallmarks of great leadership. (p.22)

Change is possible but it requires ‘a radical programme of social and economic reorganisation’.

I believe that Nigeria is a nation favoured by Providence. I believe there are individuals as well as nations who, on account of peculiar gifts and circumstances, are commandeered by history to facilitate mankind’s advancement. Nigeria is such a nation…the fear that should haunt our leaders (but does not) is that they may already have betrayed Nigeria’s high destiny. (p.24)

I find it hard to take this overblow rhetoric seriously. There is no Providence. There is no guiding hand. ‘History’ is not a force in the world, it is just the record of what we’ve done. There is no ‘high destiny’. There is no God or law saying mankind will ‘advance’ in any particular direction – what a ridiculous idea.

Throughout his career Achebe railed against Western misconceptions about Africa and yet here he is spouting just such 19th century, positivistic rhetoric about the forward march of humanity etc etc. Population growth is out of control. We are burning the world and destroying the habitats we rely on for our survival. Russia bombs maternity hospitals. Israel bombs refugee camps. The Sudanese massacre each other. Famine is coming in Ethiopia. What advancement of mankind?

Right here, right at the start of the pamphlet, Achebe reveals that he is more attached to high-sounding rhetoric than any kind of detailed analysis of the geography, agriculture, resources or economy of Nigeria, and this tone of lofty generalisation characterises most of the essay.

He is closer to reality when he says Nigeria benefited from an oil boom which should have been invested to modernise the country but instead Nigeria’s leaders have stolen or embezzled huge sums, and squandered the rest on importing expensive fancy foreign goods.

2. Tribalism (4 pages)

Achebe dates the triumph of tribalism in politics, and the death of a pan-Nigerian dream, to the moment in 1951 (when the country was still nominally owned and run by Britain) when Chief Obafemi Awolowo stole the leadership of Western Nigeria from Dr Nnamdi Azikwe (aka Zik). This is interesting to readers of his novels because it seems to be the basis for the similar cabinet coup described at the start of A Man of The People.

Achebe blames the fact that the national anthem was written by a British woman for perpetuating the idea of tribe and goes on to describe how, after 1966, another national anthem was adopted.

Achebe skims through a work of academic discussion and defines tribalism as ‘discrimination against a citizen because of his place of birth’, gives examples of how this discrimination operates at the time of the essay. He points to the American example where, in the specific example of filling out forms to apply to university, specifying a person’s state of origin is forbidden precisely to eliminate discrimination. Nigeria should do the same.

And that’s it on the issue of tribalism, one of the most complex and difficult problems facing almost every African country. Not exactly a thorough analysis, maybe – and it’s so typical of a writer to think that the key to such a super-complex social and political issue can be found in a couple of poems, and an official form. It feels like he lacks the academic training or background in the subject to engage with it properly.

3. False image of ourselves (2 and a half pages)

One of the commonest manifestations of under-development is a tendency among the ruling elite to live in a world of make-believe and unrealistic expectations. (p.29)

In Achebe’s view, Nigeran leaders spout high-sounding rhetoric to inspire their auditors and make themselves sound big by, for example, going on and on about Nigeria being a great country. Whereas Achebe, being an ordinary (albeit literary and articulate) citizen, is able to tell the truth.

Nigeria is not a great country, it is one of the most disorderly nations in the world. It is one of the most corrupt, insensitive, inefficient places under the sun…It is dirty, callous, noisy, ostentatious, dishonest and vulgar. In short, it is among the most unpleasant places on earth. (p.30)

Achebe is straight-talking like this throughout the essay and it’s fun. Even if he then ruins the effect with the empty, hackneyed phrases of his ‘solution’:

Nigeria is not absolutely beyond redemption. Critical, yes, but not hopeless. But every single day of continued neglect brings her ever closer to the brink of the abyss. To pull her back and turn her around is clearly beyond the contrivance of mediocre leadership. It calls for greatness. (p.31)

Greatness? Unfortunately much of his argumentation consists of a rhetorical exaggeration of Nigeria’s plight, so that he can then propose surprisingly windy and rhetorical solution.

Achebe’s negativism about Nigeria is a kind of mirror image of its leaders overblown boosterism: both are just fine-sounding words, both fail to engage with the horribly complex realities on the ground.

4. Leadership, Nigeria-style (1 page)

Achebe accuses the founding fathers of Nigeria of lacking intellectual rigour, of a tendency to ‘pious materialistic woolliness and self-centred pedestrianism’. As you’ve read, I detect exactly that kind of ‘woolliness and lack of intellectual rigour in Achebe’s own discourse. He is himself part of the problem he claims to be finding a solution for.

On Unity and Faith (one and a half pages)

Leaders call loudly for unity. The word is on the Nigerian coat of arms. But Achebe says unity is only valuable if it’s for a good purpose. The mafia is united. Also on the Nigerian coat of arms is the word Faith. So he also asks, faith in what? Answering these questions:

calls for a habit of mental rigour, for which, unfortunately, Nigerians are not famous. (p.33)

(You can’t help thinking this is the kind of sweeping statement about an entire people that Achebe can make, but any white author would be cancelled for.)

Anyway, the really interesting question is why the founding fathers chose Unity and Faith at all, given that they are such vague and ill-defined terms, rather than, say Justice and Honesty and Truth, which are for more clear and definable. Is it because the founding fathers didn’t think Nigerians could live up to those harder ideals?

5. Patriotism (3 and a half pages)

Nigerians are among the world’s most unpatriotic people. (p.34)

This is because patriotism requires trust or belief in a country’s leaders and Nigerians don’t have that. A patriot, he says, is someone who truly loves their country, who holds it to the highest standards and demands the best. Is that right?

Quite clearly patriotism is not going to be easy in a country as badly run as Nigeria. (p.35)

What Nigeria abounds in is the spurious patriotism of its ruling class. True patriotism can only exist when a country is ruled well by leaders who have the welfare of the majority at heart and not the material gain of the few. In other words, a country’s leaders have to give its population something to be patriotic about.

6. Social injustice and the cult of mediocrity (8 pages)

The worst impact of tribalism is injustice in awarding jobs to mediocre or incompetent candidates who come from ‘the right tribe’. It multiplies incompetence in the system and demoralisation among the victims. Thus Nigeria is a country where it’s difficult to point to even one job which is done by the best available candidate. Consistently picking a third or fourth eleven means Nigeria will never make it into the world league. This explains why the public services are so dire:

Look at our collapsing public utilities, our inefficient and wasteful parastatals and state-owned companies. If you want electricity, you buy your own generator; if you want water, you sink your own bore-hole; if you want to travel, you set up your own airline. (p.39)

But it’s not just the inefficiency and waste which promoting mediocrities to run everything badly leads to. The bigger issue is the enormous disparity between the class of people who manage things, in effect a managerial elite, who award each other huge pay packets and perks, and the vast majority of the population who remain dirt poor.

Even if the perks and luxuries and payoffs are a legacy of the colonial system, Nigerians have had two decades to reform them instead of which they’ve made the problem ten times worse.

What is the purpose of government? Surely there are two:

  1. to maintain peace and security
  2. to establish social justice, a sense of fairness and equality

Peace and stability depends on a sense of fairness. If people’s sense of unfairness and injustice is pushed to breaking point, you get revolution. All the talk about ministers and perks and chief executives ignores the fact of the tens of millions scraping a living from infertile soil, living under flyovers, scavenging on waste dumps, ‘the wretched of the earth’.

He is fully aware that most of the conversations of intellectuals or the political or business elite are incredibly aloof and disconnected from the great mass of the population.

7. Indiscipline (12 pages)

He defines indiscipline as:

a failure or refusal to submit one’s desires and actions to the restraints of orderly social conduct in recognition of the rights and desires of others. (p.45)

As a parent I know another way of saying this is acting like a grown-up and not a spoilt child. He himself says lack of self discipline is a sign of immaturity. He says lack of self discipline blights the majority of Nigerians and helps make the place a madhouse.

You can see it most clearly in the behaviour of the traffic on the roads, which Achebe has a real bee in his bonnet about. He comes back again and again to Nigerians’ terrible behaviour on the road and uses it as an example of the way Nigerians have given themselves entirely over to ‘rampaging selfishness’ (p.49).

Leaders are, among other things, role models. If a country’s leaders are selfish and greedy, lacking all restraint and self discipline, then it creates a climate of indiscipline in which millions of their countrymen think it’s OK to be like them.

Not only that but the leaders’ indiscipline also exacerbates the divide between the Big Man who has flunkeys and police and journalists falling over themselves to please him, and everybody else who has to get used to being browbeaten, insulted and extorted by every petty official (like the corrupt tax inspectors and police who victimise Odilo’s father in A Man of the People).

I don’t know any other country where you can find such brazen insensitivity and arrogant selfishness among those who lay claim to leadership and education. (p.53)

The siren mentality: he gives this name to the tendency of Nigerian officials of every rank to be accompanied everywhere by fleets of security and police cars all with sirens blaring to terrify everyone out of the way. Achebe says it is typical of Nigeria to have turned an invention of serious-minded people into:

a childish and cacophonous instrument for the celebration of status. (p.54)

‘Childish’ was the word I used to characterise the worldview and events of A Man of The People, feeling a bit nervous about accusing such an eminent author of dealing in such superficial characters and discussions – so I’m pleased to have the concept explicitly backed up by Achebe himself.

I also commented on the short temper, quickness to anger and general air of physical violence which soaks A Man of The People. Here, in the section about the siren mentality, Achebe associates the use of bombastic sirens broadcast by convoys of VIP’s cars with a kind of psychological violence, with:

  • the brutal aggressiveness which precedes a leader’s train
  • the violence of power
  • official thuggery

He calls Nigeria a ‘mentally underdeveloped’ country which ‘indulges in the celebration and brandishing of power’. Its leaders have created a mystique around themselves when a) they’re such fools they’re hardly worthy of it and b) this only creates a yawning divide between the elite class and everyone else, cowering and quivering by the side of the road as yet another cavalcade of VIPs roars past, lights flashing and sirens blaring. Undisciplined. Self centred. Childish.

8. Corruption (8 pages)

Keeping an average Nigerian from being corrupt is like keeping a goat from eating yam (1983 newspaper headline)

Nigerians are no different from other nations.

Nigerians are corrupt because the system under which they live today makes corruption easy and profitable; they will cease to be corrupt when corruption is made difficult and inconvenient. (p.58)

Achebe makes an important point which is that the exercise of corruption is intimately associated with the wielding of power; people in power have far more opportunity for corruption than the masses.

He has heard the figure that 60% of Nigeria’s wealth is consumed by corruption (p.61). He gives a couple of egregious examples of corruption scams from today’s newspapers. He explains the different types of corruption associated with big expensive building projects and refers to ‘political patronage on an unprecedented scale’ (p.63). With the result that:

Nigeria is without any shadow of doubt one of the most corrupt nations in the world… (p.63)

The only cure is for leaders to set an example, to put principle ahead of greed. A good leader would rid his administration of anyone suspected of corruption or bribery and ban them from public life.

(Just reading this passage you can see why it will never happen. In Nigeria as in most African countries corruption isn’t a blight on the system, it is the system.)

9. The Igbo problem (7 pages)

The title of this section is satirical, presumably a bitter reference to ‘the Jewish problem’, as Achebe is himself Igbo.

He explains something I didn’t know which is that the Igbo, within Nigeria, are often caricatured as aggressive, arrogant, clannish and greedy, which sounds like the worst stereotyping of the Jews.

Achebe himself calls Igbo culture ‘individualistic and highly competitive’. It is not held back by the wary religion of the other main tribal groups in Nigeria, the Hausa and Faluni, or the traditional hierarchies of the Yoruba. Igbo culture can display ‘noisy exhibitionism’ (p.67). Here’s Martin Meredith in his 2011 book The State of Africa explaining the same thing.

In the Eastern region, on the other side of the Niger river, the Igbo, occupying the poorest, most densely populated region of Nigeria, had become the best educated population, swarming out of their homeland to find work elsewhere as clerks, artisans, traders and labourers, forming sizeable minority groups in towns across the country. Their growing presence there created ethnic tensions both in the North and among the Yoruba in the West. Unlike the Hausa-Fulani and the Yoruba, the Igbo possessed no political kingdom and central authority but functioned on the basis of autonomous village societies, accustomed to a high degree of individual assertion and achievement. (p.76)

It was the tide of anti-Igbo violence which swept across northern Nigeria in reaction to the 1966 military coup, which led Igbo leaders to conceive the idea of seceding and setting up the separatist state of Biafra in 1967.

Achebe discusses the importance of the Town Union phenomenon. This seems to be the idea that the Igbo had networks of influence via their Town Union associations, which extended into clannish networks criss-crossing the nation. For political reasons leaders of other groups played on this fact to suggest Elders of Zion-style Igbo conspiracies to take other groups’ jobs, houses etc.

The reality, Achebe asserts, was exactly the opposite, the Igbo lacked strong centralised leadership. Instead, ruffians and upstarts were appointed by the British colonial authorities (as described in Achebe’s book Arrow of God) and then, since independence, hundreds and hundreds of ludicrously local ‘kings’ have sprung up like mushrooms (p.68).

Achebe mentions official policies of social, economic and political discrimination which the Igbo still labour under and pleads for them to be removed so the Igbo can play their full role in Nigerian society. In exchange the Igbo must learn to be less abrasive and more tactful.

He closes with some detailed examples of what he takes to be federal discrimination against the Igbo, namely the siting of huge new steel mills in every region except Igboland.

10. The example of Aminu Kano (15 and a half pages)

The last and longest section is devoted to Mallam Amino Kanu who had, apparently, just died. Who he?

Mallam Aminu Kano (9 August 1920 to 17 April 1983) was a Muslim politician from Nigeria. In the 1940s he led a socialist movement in the northern part of the country in opposition to British rule. (Wikipedia)

Achebe repeats Kano’s great question: what is the purpose of political power? It is certainly not to turn the population of their country into victims.

For we are victims. The entire Nigerian populace constitutes on huge, helpless electoral dupe in the hands of the politician/victimiser. (p.73)

And it’s the people’s fault. For some reason the electorate votes time and again for crooks. Politicians exploit ethnic differences not just to win the backing of ethnic groups but because it divides the electorate and makes them less able to hold politicians to account.

He calls on educated Nigerians to rouse themselves from their cynicism and ‘bestir themselves to the patriotic action of proselytising for decent and civilised political values’ (p.74). Here is where Achebe makes it clearest that he is primarily addressing Nigeria’s intelligentsia or educated class, rather than the people at large. As a matter of interest, I wonder what percentage of the total population this amounts to? 1%? It’s the narcissism of all academics, graduates, people in the media, the commentariat and so on to believe that they represent ‘the nation’.

Achebe hoped that, when democracy was restored in 1979, Nigeria would have learned from the ruinous civil war and a decade of military rule but no, the country just started making the same old mistakes all over again.

We have turned out to be like a bunch of stage clowns who bump their heads into the same heavy obstacles again and again because they are too stupid to remember what hit them only a short while ago. (p.76)

In my opinion this is a profoundly wrong way of thinking about politics. It is a commentator’s mindset, expecting that because series of events A took place which you, personally, disapproved of and learned from, that therefore everyone will have ‘learned’ from it and avoid repeating it. No.

But politics and political commentary are just the narcissistic froth bobbing on the deep slow-moving forces of geography, climate, agriculture, technology, social changes, the economy and the social realities stemming from them – such as widespread poverty, illiteracy, lack of housing, amenities, education, lack of experience working in factories (sounds trivial but cited by Paul Collier as a prime cause of poverty in the poorest countries) or of creating a civil life without universal corruption: the granular structures which actually make up a country, these are almost impossible to change.

Achebe professes himself disappointed because he thought that during the decades since Independence ‘an enlightened electorate’ would have come into being – by which he, like thousands of liberal commentators in countries round the world, meant an electorate who thinks like him.

But electorates around the world consistently don’t think like the tiny percentage of the population which enjoyed a liberal college education thinks they ought to think. Trump. Brexit. Erdoğan. Bolsonaro. Milei. The continuing success of authoritarian populists don’t prove that electorates are ‘wrong’ – all they do is highlight the gulf between liberal commentators and the populations and countries they claim to know about or speak for.

The chapter is the longest in the book because Achebe goes into some detail about political developments between the end of military rule / the advent of the second republic in 1979, and the time of writing i.e. 1983. This section assumes familiarity with leading figures in Nigerian politics and their careers to date which I didn’t have, so I struggled to follow it.

What it does convey to the outsider is the central importance of ethnicity or at least regional allegiance in Nigeria’s politics. He discusses figures like Dr Nnamdi Azikiwe and Chief Obafemi Awolowo entirely in terms of the ethnic groups they represented and promoted. There isn’t anywhere in this final section anything about these politicians’ economic or social policies. They don’t appear to have had any except to bring home the loot to their region, for ‘their’ people. Here’s a typical passage:

Professor Eyo Atik was an Efik, and the brutally unfair treatment offered him in Enugu did not go unremarked in Calabar. It contributed in no small measure to the suspicion of the majority Igbo by their minority neighbours in Eastern Nigeria – a suspicion which far less attractive politicians than Eyo Ita fanned to red-hot virulence, and from which the Igbo have continued to reap enmity to this day. (p.82)

See what I mean by not a hint of any actual policies, and how political figures are interpreted 100% in the context of their tribal allegiances? 1) Invoking tribalism i.e. getting your tribe to support you and vilifying opponents in terms of their tribal enmity, and 2) offering to bring home the bacon to your people i.e. divert profitable state funding, new roads, water, electricity, factories etc to your region – these remain the two easiest ways to drum up support among a largely illiterate electorate. They are the tried and tested routes to power and success, to personal wealth and prestige, so why on earth would any practical politician ignore them? University professors of literature like Chinua Achebe can write all the pamphlets they like but will ever change that.

Instead, people like Achebe are doomed to perpetual disappointment that ‘the people’ just don’t seem to be educated enough to share their enlightened point of view. But they never will be. This is the sentence of perpetual frustration which every intellectual in a mass democracy is condemned to. In old-fashioned Marxist terms, the bourgeois intellectual, depressed by his complete alienation from the masses, is stuck on the outside of the historical process, tutting and disapproving, and completely ineffectual because unattached to anything like a mass party which could actually change anything.

Contemporary Nigeria

Here’s the view of Africa scholar John Philips writing in Africa Studies Review in 2005:

Nigeria remains one of the most important and fascinating countries in Africa, with abundant human and material resources. If these could be harnessed effectively, Nigeria could easily become one of the most influential countries in the world. The country has played a leadership role in everything from the liberation of southern Africa to the formation of the Economic Community of West African States (ECOWAS) and the African Union, and the attempted stabilization of Liberia and other states in the region.

The decline of Nigeria, although not as severe as the decline and even collapse of other states in Africa, has saddened all who love her and disheartened all who had hoped for great things from independent Africa. Today Nigeria is better known for the ‘scam spam’ that clutters up internet mailboxes around the world than for its great authors, musicians, and other creative people.

Massive investments in industry have failed to industrialise the country; the hope of post-Biafra, oil-boom Nigeria has given way to cynicism, corruption, and despair. The great religiosity of Nigerians has become less a call to righteousness than a reason to murder followers of other religions. Who can ponder Confucius’s famous statement that ‘the material prosperity of a country does not consist in material prosperity, but in righteousness’ without thinking of Nigeria? Understanding the decline, if not quite yet fall, of Nigeria is one of the most important tasks facing Africanist scholars today.

Here are responses from readers on Amazon (I know it’s not scholarly opinion, but they often come from people with a special interest in the subject i.e. actual Nigerians):

Although the book is relatively old (published 1983) it continues to be distressingly relevant to the actual Nigeria. Military dictators have disappeared (again) and been replaced by democratically-elected presidents (again), but this has had little effect on the basic problems identified by this book. The author says things that only a Nigerian could get away with – and says them well, as you would expect of Achebe.

it was written in 1983 but all the issues & failures he highlights are just as relevant in 2008.

Nigerians know all about the trouble but still cannot figure out a solution and Achebe tried to sketch a route past the troubles. But alas, it is no casual ‘trouble’, it is a deeply-seated neurosis. The sad reality is that even over 3 decades later not much has changed in Nigeria – if anything it has changed for the worse in some ways – despite the passing of leadership from the illegitimate military rulers to elected civilians. Nigeria’s ruling class treat the country as an all-you-can-eat buffet while unconnected citizens are viewed as destitute serfs outside the gates. (Chris Emeka, 2014)

Material facts

As anyone familiar with my blog knows I enjoy intellectual activity and products, art and literature, very much indeed, but my belief system is based on an atheistic materialist view of the world, on the bedrock of material facts, on the biological realities of the body, on the theory of evolution, on the unpleasant realities of humans’ complete reliance on a viable environment.

People’s opinions are as changeable as their moods, even the best commentator’s interpretation is based on partial understanding, whereas the material facts can be measured and recorded. I’m not necessarily saying they’re the most important aspects of life, but objective, material facts are generally the decisive ones.

For example, you can have the most poetic thoughts in the world but if someone cuts off your head with a machete that’s the end of them. You can write reams about your splendid homeland and its historic destiny, but it’s not your fancy words, it’s the availability of food, water and energy which will determine its future. Thus:

Although it was published in 1983, all the commentators point out that the issues Achebe addressed in 1983 still challenge Nigeria in 2023. The most tangible difference is that in 1983 Nigeria’s population was 80 million and now it’s nearly three times that, at 223 million. By 2050 the population is predicted to reach 400 million. If the trend isn’t stopped, it will exceed 728 million by 2100.

Given that much agricultural and coastal land is set to be lost to climate change and environmental degradation over the same period, it’s hard not to conclude that Nigeria’s future will be catastrophic.

John Oyefara, a professor of demography at the University of Lagos, is quoted as saying that unless this unprecedented population explosion is properly managed ‘there will be more crises, insurgency, poverty and insecurity.’ It’s difficult to detect the hand of Providence, history, high destiny or ‘mankind’s advancement’, of any of the windy highfalutin’ terms Achebe opened his essay with, in any of this.

Solutions

Achebe’s pamphlet is great fun, exuberantly written, eminently quotable and quite useless. Practical solutions can only be found in the complex economic and social analyses provided by the likes of:


Credit

The Trouble With Nigeria by Chinua Achebe was published in 1983 by The Fourth Dimension Publishing Company. References are to the 2010 Penguin Books paperback volume ‘An Image of Africa.’

Related links

  • The Trouble with Nigeria online [I can’t find an online version which is not only irritating but reprehensible. It’s a text of great public interest, surely it should be freely available]
  • 2006 interview with Achebe
  • Guardian Nigeria page

Chinua Achebe reviews

Africa reviews

Two Weeks in November by Douglas Rogers (2019)

This book is great fun. Whereas Martin Meredith regards the history of Zimbabwe as a tragedy and loads every page with doleful hand-wringing, Rogers thinks it’s a hilarious farce.

Rather than thinking of every speech and law as a further nail in the coffin of 1960s dreams of African independence, Rogers is a child of the 1980s, carefree, at home in the modern world, all dark glasses and retro cars, smart phones, snapchat and WhatsApp.

This being the 21st century, you don’t kick a man when he’s down – you tweet insults at him. (p.155)

For Rogers, Harare isn’t the site of crushed dreams of a socialist dream, huge shanty towns and an impoverished populace, no, he’s interested in the upmarket suburb of Borrowdale where the Zanu-PF elite have their lavish mansions, complete with swimming pools, golf courses, fleets of sports cars, yeah baby.

Rogers’s characters aren’t boring old human rights lawyers and grim-faced opposition activists, but flashy international businessmen, like Ameerh Naran, a young Indian-Zimbabwean entrepreneur who owns a private charter jet firm, is a racing driver in his spare time, and holds the licence to import sex toys into Zimbabwe, a man at home in the jet set of Monaco or Miami or Aspen.

Again and again Rogers has his characters refer to ‘the game’ of high politics, intrigues and espionage which may, in the end, actually be the most realistic way of thinking about it.

  • The game they were playing had reached the highest levels and it made the heart race. (p.165)
  • It was a turning point in the great game. (p.176)
  • Such is life in the death game of Zimbabwean politics. (p.210)
  • And so the final stages of the great game began. (p.217)
  • Jacob Zuma was the most powerful and influential figure in the game at this point. (p.221)
  • Such was the surreal nature of the game. (p.235)
  • What it meant was that the game had to play itself out. (p.255)

History as thriller

The whole book is written as a tongue-in-cheek homage to airport thrillers:

On a bright afternoon in the spring of 2015, driving past the mall near his suburban Johannesburg home, Tom Ellis spotted his assassins. (p.37)

Right down to the classic American thriller’s obsession with precisely detailing and enumerating every piece of branded clothing which every character is wearing:

Ellis, wearing slim-fit jeans, short-sleeved checked cotton shirt and the trademark Veldskoens common to white Zimbabweans of his generation, led the way. (p.39)

His favourite adjective is the American ‘upscale’ meaning ‘expensive and designed to appeal to affluent consumers.’ It’s contemporary history in the style of ‘Miami Vice’.

Origin of the book

In November 2017, Robert Mugabe, decrepit ruler of Zimbabwe for 37 long, brutal, corrupt years, aged 93, was finally toppled from his position in an army coup. Rogers was a travel writer and had drafted half a book about the his latest African journey when he heard the news. A native Zimbabwean he had, like so many well-off whites: a) fled the country (to settle in Virginia, USA, in his case) and b) given up any hopes for reform or change to his country.

So he promptly returned to Harare and sniffed about a bit i.e. spoke to various contacts and, as he did so, an amazing story began to unfold. He was put in touch with people who put him in touch with more people who unfurled the nature of the complicated, multi-party coup which had overthrown the old dictator. At which point he rang up his publishers and told them he had something much hotter than another middle-aged road trip to write about and they graciously agreed to wait while he embarked on entirely new book, this book, a detailed exposé of the complex plot to overthrow Robert Mugabe.

And, because he clearly has a terrific sense of humour, and an ironic, detached approach to politics, Rogers has cast the story in the style of an airport thriller. It’s full of facts and figures and explanations of Zimbabwe’s history, Mugabe’s career, Zimbabwe’s steady decline under his management, the failed attempts to oust him by democratic means etc etc. But all told in a bright and cheerful, lollzy manner.

Above all, he zeroes in on the key players in the drama, giving us descriptions of them, their houses, spouses, children, roles in Mugabe’s administration or the Zimbabwe or South African spy agencies and so on, then describes secret meetings at restaurants, late-night flights, smuggling people across the border, clandestine meetings and all the rest of it, exactly as in a poolside spy thriller.

The plot

By the later 2010s the political party Zimbabwe African National Union–Patriotic Front (Zanu-PF), which had ruled Zimbabwe for 37 years, led by the wizened old dictator Mugabe, had split into two warring factions. Very simple reason – the issue of who was going to replace the old brute.

On one side his vice-president and long-time colleague at the top of Zanu, Emmerson Dambudzo Mnangagwa – also known as ‘The Crocodile’, supposedly because he moved slowly but was deadly, but in fact due to his involvement with the so-called Crocodile Gang during the war of independence (p.131). Also known as ED. His supporters were nicknamed ‘the Lacoste faction’ after the stylish brand of polo shirts they sported (p.21). Note that, although Mugabe was a senile 93, ED was no spring chicken himself, at 75.

On the other side was Mugabe’s second wife, Grace Mugabe, forty-one years younger than him, a typist who he began an affair with while his first wife was still alive (though dying of cancer), who he’d married in 1996 and had three children with (p.66). For ten years or more she’d been widely mocked as interested only in bling and shopping and had acquired a series of nicknames including the First Shopper, Gucci Grace and Lady Gaga.

But at the turn of the 2010s, Grace began to show a more active interest in politics and by 2016/17 she was using public appearances to attack the opposing faction in the party, thus positioning herself to inherit Mugabe’s mantle. Her supporters became known as Generation 40 (G40) because they were the new, younger generation. Prominent in her clique were Jonathan Moyo (former Information Minister), and Saviour Kasukewere (ZANU-PF political commissar).

The two weeks in November 2017 began when Mugabe announced, obviously under pressure from his wife, that he was dismissing his long-time deputy, ED, with the threat that he would immediately be arrested, and the narrative proper gets started with the panic-stricken meeting of ED and his sons who spend a feverish evening figuring out escape routes to smuggle their dad out of the country.

It was one of these plans which ropes in Ameerh Naran who I mentioned above. Naran helps them get a doctor’s certificate vouching that ED is ill, which would allow him to be flown to South Africa on a medical flight (seeing as the airports are, by now, all being watched by Zimbabwe’s security service to ensure that ED doesn’t catch a normal flight leaving the country).

In the event, the panic-stricken conspirators ditch that plan half way through and instead drive in a convoy bearing ED, his wife Auxillia, sons (Junior, Sean and Collins), cousin Tarirai, a friend Hosea Manzunzu (aka Limping Jack), Jenfan Muswere andWise Jasi, along the highway east to cross the border into Mozambique.

At which point the narrative cuts back in time and to South Africa, where builder and fixed Tom Ellis (55) has for years helped out a network of anti-Mugabe people. He confronts two agents from Zimbabwe’s secret police who are tailing him, Kasper and Magic (p.57).

Backstory describing Zimbabwe’s decline. Between 2000 and 2010 4 million Zimbabweans left the country, most to go and live in South Africa. Ellis was an emigre but he wanted to heal his home country. At first he worked with the Movement for Democratic Change (MDC), founded in 1999 and which provided a viable opposition in the later 2000s, and actually won the 2013 election, but had itself splintered into factions and lost his drive.

It was then that the rivalry in Zanu-PF began to emerge and Ellis began to make approaches to the people around ED. No doubt his phone was bugged and this explains why he found himself being tailed by Zim secret service agents.

Thumbnail sketch of Kasper, real name Charles Wezhira, who had risen from a dirt poor background with the help of his policeman father, to become a secret service operative. He had fought in the Zimbabwean forces sent to intervene in the Great War of Africa in 1997, which is when he thinks the rot set in with Mugabe’s regime, triggering inflation for ordinary people while Mugabe and the elite made fortunes on military contracts and/or corrupt mineral concessions from Zaire’s short-lived president, Laurent-Désiré Kabila. Then in the early 2000s came the campaigns to dispossess white farmers and give their land to veterans of the liberation war, 1964 to 1979.

In response to increased opposition, which crystallised in the MDC, Mugabe expanded the operations of the Central Intelligence Organisation (CIO) to create a ‘Securocrat State’, until an estimated one fifth of the population were spying on the rest (cf the Stasi in East Germany) (p.54).

The role of Christopher Mutsvangwa, chair of the Zimbabwe National Liberation Veterans Association. After a long and distinguished career serving Zanu-PF (as cabinet minister, ambassador to China), by 2016 Mutsvangwa had had enough. In July he meets with Ellis the fixer, who introduces him to leading MDC members and exiles in South Africa. He made a big speech denouncing the cult of personality around Mugabe, announcing that the war veterans no longer supported him, and was promptly sacked.

The spy element comes in when Ellis’s CIO contact, Kasper, points out that one of the Zimbabwe exiles they’ve just met with in an SA pub is in fact a CIO spy, indeed took a pally, matey photo of the group with Mutsvangwa which he immediately sent back to the CIO for use in Zanu propaganda against him.

Cut to the scene where human rights activist and Zimbabwean exile in South Africa, Gabriel Shumba, is approached by Kasper and Magic who he initially assumes are going to assassinate him. Having been arrested, beaten up, tortured, arrested again and forced into exile, Gabriel isn’t surprised by anything. In fact, Kasper introduces himself as a CIO operative who is, however, working against Grace and G40, and for the replacement of the Old Man by the Crocodile.

Kasper has names for the phases of his operations: 1) The Move 2) Shock Tactics 3) The Final Push 4) Full Scale.

It’s only when, in February 2017, Kasper takes him to the hospital room of the dying MDC leader, Morgan Tsvangirai, who tells him to trust Kasper, that Gabriel signs up for the project. And learns that Ellis had already been signed up for 6 months.

Kasper turns his own assistant, Magic, and introduces a third CIO operative, Horse. He takes to guarding Mutsvangwa in SA, while making regular trips back to Harare to sound out colleagues and contacts. With Gabriel and Ellis working the Zim exiles in SA, they slowly build up a network of important contacts committed to blocking G40 and working for an ED succession. On a particular night after yet another meeting in a bar, Kasper and Tom make a formal agreement which they jokingly title the Northgate Declaration, because that’s the name they can see on a sign from the car park.

On 12 August someone tried to poison ED at a party rally in Gwanda. He was flown to hospital in South Africa and survived. When Kasper heard he knew the conspiracy had entered a new phase. Time to take it to the next level.

And so the narrative returns to where it broke off, with the exciting all night three-car convoy carrying ED and family towards the Mutari crossing into Mozambique. Twenty of more pages are devoted to the Hollywood thriller events which followed: the cars are stopped at the border, there’s a delay, it becomes clear their cover is rumbled and the border guards have called for reinforcements; at which point ED’s sons and cousins cause distractions, get into a brawl with the guards, just long enough for ED to jump into one of the cars and be driven away at high speed. They drive up to the hills and hide out in a village which remembers him from liberation war days. Via cell phones the three groups establish they all escaped.

They then enact an extremely complicated plan: they rustle up some dissident army men who drive them up to an illegal border crossing into Mozambique,,m some way north, but which involves crossing a minefield, which they’re able to do with the help of a local guide. Or so they hope. Then a long arduous trek through sweaty jungle top the nearest two-bit town, where they hole up in a flea-bitten hotel, while waiting for Mozambique contacts to meet them. Then they’re driven to an airfield where there is an immense delay which, in their paranoia, they think must be because the cops are being called but turns out to be because it’s late, there were no more scheduled flights, and all the computers had been turned off!

A private charter plane flies in from South Africa, loads up ED and Junior, and flies them into SA. Even here there are security guards who they think must be setting a trap, but no, they’re waiting for someone else. And, finally, after a 72-hour harem-scarem chase, ED and Collins are driven in black SUVs to a safe house belonging to Zimbabwe millionaire Justice Maphosa, where they join hands (and with the security guards) to pray, before tucking into a meal of chicken and salad.

Joice Mujuru

Zanu-PF’s attempts to ridicule, threaten, sack and hound ED and the long vitriolic ad hominem attacks made by Lady Gucci, were in fact identical tactics used to ruin and disgrace the previous vice-president, Joice Mujuru 2014 when she, too, looked like she was shaping up to be Mugabe’s successor. In other words, it was a repeat of a well worked-out playbook. Mujuru was disgraced and retired from politics. The differences this time were a) ED refused to take it lying down and b) Agent Kasper had for two years been working to create a support network for him, among friendly factions within Zimbabwe, and among the emigre community in SA, which was able to swing into action to support him.

What that means in practice is the Zim exiles call a press conference at a Sandton hotel, in which Mutsvangwa, former leading light of the Mugabe regime, sits next to Gabriel, high profile torture victim of the Mugabe regime, and they jointly declare the Mugabe regime must be overthrown, to a small audience of the world’s press (Times, BBC, CNN etc). More than that, though, it represented a very high official within Zanu-PF (ED), Christopher (head of the war veterans) joining forces with the MDC exile diaspora (represented by Gabriel and Ellis). In other words, a message to ordinary Zimbabweans that a broad front was now united in overthrowing the president.

Rogers then lets slip a lot of information he had been witholding about the scale of the military contacts Kasper had made; about a series of meetings Gabriel, as a lawyer, was invited to with an Zimbabwe army general and brigadier, who probed him about legal means of overthrowing Mugabe.

The team now adopt the Holiday Inn Johannesburg airport at their base. A lot of spooks had been hanging round the press conference; someone tried to assassinate Gabriel earlier in 2017; the rhetoric coming out of Harare about traitors and running dogs etc is hair-raising. The Holiday Inn has only one entrance and exit, through gated doors. Perfect.

Kasper commissions two emigre Zimbabwe commentators (Acie Lumumba and Tino Mambeu) to appear all over SA media saying Mugabe’s time was up. The team is given tasks, with some reaching out to contacts in America to gauge the US response if Mugabe were overthrown. The head of the army had only recently been sent to China; this overlapped with Muntsvabwa’s time as ambassador to China; he made calls to sound out the country which had become the biggest foreign investor in Zimbabwe.

But it’s the army that does it, confirming the reader’s suspicion that, although he has met and interviewed and noted exactly the interactions between Kasper, Ellis and Shumba, there’s a big hole at the centre of Rogers’ narrative, which is the actual planning and carrying out of the military coup.

What he pieces together is that General Chiwenga flew back into Harare airport where his forces, with perfect timing, disarmed the civilian police and the Police Support Unit, their paramilitary wing. Within minutes he is greeted off the plane, greeted by senior officers and whisked off to the main barracks in Harare.

Next day at 3pm, the General gives an unprecedented press conference saying the army will protect itself from insults and abuse, and ‘the revolution’ from counter-revolutionary elements. There is no coverage of all this on that evening’s national news. Next day, Tuesday 14, there is a response of sorts from the young head of Zanu’s Youth League, hardly adequate. Army units begin to leave their barracks.

That evening army units surround and disarm their most serious potential opponents, the PSU, then move to seize Parliament, State House, the Supreme Court, ZANU-PF headquarters and police headquarters. Meanwhile, back in Jo’burg, Gabriel is summoned by his military contacts and spends the next 8 hours giving legal advice, via the general and brigadier, to the forces on the ground in Harare. He has one massage: don’t shoot anyone.

Soldiers seize the headquarters of the state broadcaster. Gabriel is insistent in Jo’berg that the journalists must be treated well, and allowed to leave at the end of their shifts. Miraculously, this comes to pass and the soldiers let the broadcast staff simply walk away and go home. The army units then turn to trundle up the hill to the president’s mansion, known as the Blue Roof. Gabriel’s guys are radioing commanders on the ground to tell them to surround the presidential mansion but to let Mugabe et al come and go as they please. They are trying to avoid the appearance of a coup.

Troops do mount an armed assault on the luxury homes of Finance Minister Ignatius Chombo and of G40 leaders Moyo and Saviour. they phone Grace who sends a car which arrives just after the armed assault is, inexplicably, called off, and which takes the wives and children to the Blue Roof. Saviour and Moyo follow in the footsteps of ED eight short days earlier, and drive to the Mozambique border, crossing into exile.

At 4am on Wednesday 15 November Major General SB Moyo (who hadn’t hitherto appeared in the narrative) makes a broadcast assuring the country the president is safe and free to come and go and assuring viewers abroad that this is not a coup.

Rogers explains why this was so important. During the 1990s the Southern Africa Development Community set up a task force to prevent coups taking place and even overturning them (in Equatorial Guinea, Sao Tome and Principe, in Gabon).

Therefore, it’s interesting to read that former ambassador Muntsvangwa’s role was to talk to South African president Jacob Zuma – well, Zuma’s people, anyway – and establish a clear narrative; that a coup had already taken place, Grace and G40’s seizure of power from Mugabe. What he and the military were doing was reversing that coup. Aha! He plays on their common background as military men who fought in liberation struggles, and points up the difference with Grace and the G40 faction who are unrepentant consumer capitalists.

Another ZDF had just been dispatched to the African Union in Ethiopia where he tells AU officials – also pledged to prevent or undo coups – that this is not a coup it is the reversal of a coup.

But a key element of a change of government is the approval of the people. Rogers gives a fascinating account of how the disparate members of the Core Group reached out to all their contacts and organisations in order to organise a million person march in support of the new regime in just 36 hours.

Rogers devotes a chapter to describing how he and his mates drive back into Zimbabwe and into Harare and took part in the massive march themselves, eyewitnesses to history. He shares some trite tripe about how people are emotional beings:

We like to believe that we are rational, sober-minded people, but we are all driven by emotion, and great political moments appeal to the irrational in us – the heart. (p.246)

So felt the crowds during the French revolution, the Russian revolution, the Iranian revolution, the Arab Springs, all of which led to even worse state terror and repression. Rogers’s lack of policy and reliance on emotion is identical to Mugabe’s reliance on revolutionary fervour and militant rhetoric instead of practical, workable policies. Heart and feeling aren’t enough, nowhere near enough. Then again, I can appreciate it must feel delirious to be in at the end of such a long repressive regime and full of hope for the future.

The real work is being done within ZANU-PF itself, with activists liaising with all its regional offices to send in requests for Mugabe to step down as president and Grace and the G40 to be expelled. A big live TV speech was set up, with cameras showing Mugabe surrounded by the military, looking old and frail. But to everyone’s absolute astonishment he refused to reign, just told the country they were going through a sticky patch, to all pull together, then he got up, shook a few generals’ hands and tottered off.

Mugabe rang political leaders, such as South Africa’s Jacob Zuma and Zambian president Edgar Lungi, but nobody would intervene to prop him up, a fact Mugabe would later bitterly criticise.

Having been let down, the authorities then commenced impeachment hearings against Mugabe on Tuesday 21 November. The proceedings are packed and complicated by last minute negotiations between ZANU-PF and the MDC and also about reluctance to be the individual to launch the impeachment as, if it failed, that person would be guilty of treason.

But proceedings had hardly got under way when a message was brought in that Mugabe had, at long last, officially resigned. Wild partying in all the cities till dawn the next day.

However, a dark note is cast over everything when Kasper and Magic, Horse and Gabriel are driving out to the latter’s farm and stop for refreshments when two carloads of intelligence people pull over and abduct Kasper and Magic, submitting them to a week of beatings and kickings before Gabriel, who escapes back across the border to South Africa, uses all his MDC and NGO and human rights contacts to have them tracked down and released.

Then it’s Friday 24 November and ED is sworn in as new president. And then Rogers tells us, as if it’s a big surprise, that when you overthrow a dictator, you unleash all kinds of forces, rivalries, political bitternesses which had been kept under wraps. Well spotted. I think the people of former Yugoslavia could explain this a bit more. Or Iraq. Or Libya.

Anyway, as he writes his text in February 2019, there have been ruptures within both the MDC (under new leadership since Morgan Tsvangirai died of cancer in February 2018) and ZANU-PF and the army and security forces, not all of whom were happy with the coup that wasn’t a coup.

Then when there were protests which turned to riots, the army shot at protesters, killing a number, and any international businesses or western donors will have thought that Zimbabwe was back to its old ways.

Timeline: November 2017

Sunday 5 – at a Presidential Youth Interfaith rally Grace Mugabwe makes a speech attacking the vice-president, talking about ‘crushing the head’ of the snake of opposition within the Zanu-PF party i.e. Emmerson Dambudzo Mnangagwa (ED).

Monday 6 – ED receives a letter announcing the termination of his position as vice president, a fact announced on the national broadcaster, ZBC

Tuesday 7 – in the early hours ED, his sons and close friends escape down highway, but are stopped in a confusing fracas at the border

Wednesday 8 – having hidden out in the hills, they make another crossing on foot guided through minefields through local dissident soldiers into Mozambique

Thursday 9 – arrive at Beira airport and take charter flight to SA

Sunday 12 – General Chiwenga flies back to Harare from China

Monday 13 – General Chiwenga gives a press conference threatening counter-revolutionary elements in the party i.e. G40

Tuesday 14 – army units leave their barracks and seize key locations around Harare

Thursday 16 – decision taken to organise a people’s march; fake news flashes over social media that Mugabe has resigned

Friday 17 – Muntsvangwa decides they will relocate the SA team to a hotel in Harare, where his veterans have been assembling

Saturday 18 – vast peaceful protest march through the middle of Harare

Friday 24 – ED is sworn in as second president of Zimbabwe

Thoughts

Vivid

I assume the details of Rogers’s narrative are correct, although you can tell that he’s taking liberties inventing characters’ conversations and thoughts. But, despite any misgivings about the semi-fictional format he’s cast his story in, it felt much better at giving you a feel for life in contemporary Zimbabwe than the documentary books by Martin Meredith I’ve read. It gives you a real feel for the depth of corruption, the details of the high life lived by the elite, and the scariness of the secret security state which Mugabe created.

Meredith is on the outside, disapproving, while Rogers is on the inside, marvelling.

No policies

In chapter 12 there’s a lot of soppy maudlin stuff about long-time campaigners for a better Zimbabwe imagining that the way their motley coalition (the military, secret service, army veterans who had displaced white farmers, white farmers in the exile union etc etc) had all gotten together and created a rainbow alliance was somehow a model for a new reborn Zimbabwe.

What this sentimental horseshit shows is a) a complete lack of understanding of what a state is, the depths of corruption which authoritarian rule creates and how it takes generations to overcome and reform; and b) that nobody in the entire book at any stage mentions a single actual policy. The entire narrative and, apparently, all the players in it, see things solely as a political powerplay. Nobody has a clue what to do about reviving the agricultural sector, running state companies effectively, making the country attractive to western investors, restoring an independent legislature and freedom of the press.

The reverse: all the army’s statements continue with the hackneyed dusty old clichés about saving ‘the revolution’ from ‘counter-revolutionary elements’, of saving the Party etc. In other words, the key players in the coup are all operating within the fake-revolutionary ideology and rhetoric which Mugabe used to conceal his corruption and authoritarianism, can’t get out of that controlling mindset.

What happened next?

Even though Mugabe’s gone, his successors will inherit his security apparatus, the webs of surveillance, arrest and torture, and will be tempted to use it. I see from recent news stories that a) Emmerson Mnangagwa is still president of Zimbabwe and that b) he is deploying standard Mugabe-type laws to stifle free speech and opposition.

Plus ça change, plus c’est l’Afrique. Or, as Rogers’ mother tells him when news of the coup first breaks out, whoever takes over, it’ll be ‘same bus, different driver’.


Credit

Two Weeks in November by Douglas Rogers was published by Short Books in 2019.

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