We all know how irritating it is to listen to boring talks: when the speaker does not project his or her voice, when he or she lacks verbal fluidity, when they repeat themselves.  If the topic is interesting and new, we can persevere to the end; but if it is the same old topic (like the God-loves-you stuff), our chair begins to itch.  The feeling is, “Only if I could find a way to stop this fellow!”

MISERY – BORING TALK

Now, imagine someone presenting a talk on “Misery in Africa.”  Perhaps our first reaction will be to yawn: we may feel reluctant to listen to yet another litany of human woes that have been told over and over again.  If you feel like that, you are not alone.  Someone recently commented that the discourse on African and global woes is becoming boring.

Wherever African leaders gather, the topical issue is either poverty or AIDS.  Read the leading magazines in African countries and find out if you can miss such topics.  Walk into any library and be greeted by volumes that narrate the same story.  Go for religious functions and listen to homilies -- they too are full of the same stuff.  Buy a tape on the market and hear what local musicians have to say – there is no difference. Open your ears to a soccer analyst and hear that poverty is the mitigating factor of our performance.

The list goes on and on.  Yes, it is boring.  But why is it boring?  Maybe because we know enough about it already.  Or maybe because the narrators lack creativity.  Or even because we find it uncomfortable to have to listen to such existential horror.

THE HISTORY OF THE DISCOURSE

Let us justify our boredom by examining the long history of the phenomenon of human misery in Africa.  This discourse can almost be called eternal in nature since its origin almost infinitely goes back to the time before the creation of nation states.  All the major struggles on the continent dwelt on misery as their foundation.

The fight against slavery depicted the suffering of the Africans on their way to and in the Americas.  The fight for independence also highlighted the anguish of colonial oppression. Even the post-colonial era is characterised by the same theme.

Different post-independence political parties have capitalised on the devastating experience of the ordinary African in order to wield popular support, for the secret about human beings is that we are touched when someone graphically describes our living situations: we feel present in the narrator.  We are consoled that somebody is able to speak the language of our experience.

The question is: Is the discourse on misery here to stay?  Is there going to be a time when we shall read papers, watch TV, or attend conferences without being “forced” to listen to this issue?  Has it become the incarnation of Marx’s dialectical materialism that is going to decide the historical development?  Can governments lose or gain power without making any reference to human wretchedness?

If we want to stop the boring discourse, we have two alternatives: either stop talking about what is there or stop what is there.  The first option will give us what can be called “pseudo-peace” whereby painful experiences are never discussed.  The obvious consequence of this attitude is that the “national subconscious” (to believe Freud) will contain more and more  forces which will unconsciously be motivating our actions.

For example, there might be violence whose causes escape, a rational analysis, or there might be a general state of disenchantment whose explicit reasons cannot be accessed.  Indeed, such repression can only breed the antithesis of peace.  The problem is that you cannot stop the problem by simply stopping to talk about it.  So, the first option is out of question as long as the misery is still with us.

THREE WAYS OF KILLING THE RAT

But the other way to stop the discourse on misery is to stop the misery itself.  There are many ways to exterminate wretchedness.  The first one is what I can call “Acceptance Approach” whereby the miserable may be told that it is impossible to change their situation.  By positing their situation as one of those falling under the “natural law”, the miserable will accept and overcome the feeling of wretchedness.

Consequently, they ought to dismiss as illusory and unnatural any longing for greater things.  The evidence to support this approach could be the age-to-age perpetuation of the unwelcome phenomenon, even in this technologically developed century.

One can also refer to the failure of many donor institutions to change the situation in spite of the  billions of dollars they have tried to pour into Africa.  Thus, no attempt should be made to redress the situation since nothing can possibly change at all.  It is a question of being realistic.  It is a question of seeing the truth in Jesus' statement, ''the poor will always be with you''.

This approach is, to say the least, characteristic of a not well-informed preacherman who can only interpret the is as the ought.  William Blake would dismiss this approach as “mind-forged manacles.” It is failing in its hermeneutical dimension because it takes descriptive statements as normative statements.

Apart from its passive nature (due to its inability to envisage a historical change), this approach is analytically inadequate in the sense that it establishes a definitive judgment from macro-performance without analysing micro-performance. The failure of donor agencies to effect any change may have resulted from minute problems that defeated the intention of the whole project.

PARTICULARISATION OF NEEDS

The second approach is what I call “Particularisation of Needs.” In this approach, human needs are to be seen as not being uniform but differentiated in accordance with geographical and cultural placement, in dialogue with the available resources.

Thus, the needs of people staying, for example, in Zambia could be limited to nshima, pole-and-dagger house, and communal well.  On the contrary, the needs of people staying in the United States could be a big house with all the convenient furniture, two or three cars, etc.

The criterion for establishing these needs is that those who can access more resources should use them without scruples while those who can access limited resources should also use what is available and never desire to own what is not accessible to them.  Plenty resources for those in America and few resources for those in Zambia should then be understood as what must constitute their culture.

Evidence for this view may include the contentment of early human societies with the resources that were available.  One can also cite the psychological tranquility of villagers who walk long distances or make do with one meal per day.  So, the whole thing should be reduced to cultural and geographical variations.

Any efforts to make, say, a person living in Malawi live like an American should be judged as futile and unreasonable unless he or she moves to America where he or she will then be obliged to do as the Romans do.  Thus, if we want to end human misery, then all miserable people have to migrate to the areas of plenty resources and assimilate the culture of those who live in plenty.

While this approach permits of the possibility of changing the situation of the miserable, its theoretical foundation and practical orientation cannot be left uncriticised.  In the first place, there is no evidence that there is a culture that is comfortable with little resources.  While some cultures may encourage people to accept to live in misery rather than to be unjust to others or in order to help others, it is doubtful that a truly dynamic culture can limit the dreams of its members.

So, human beings as rational animals (with all the implications this entails) have a universal need to acquire that which is better.  As Doctor Mini in Mine Boy advises Xuma, good houses are for every man, not just for the white man.  In this way, there is no rational ground for limiting certain modes of living to particular geographical or cultural areas.

Consequently, a Zambian has a rational right to desire to live in abundance since he or she too is a rational being.  Secondly, there is a global movement of resources.  For example, copper leaves Zambia and goes to other parts of the world.  This then means that the accessibility of resources is not limited to certain geographical locations.

Therefore, a Zambian does not need to migrate to America in order to live a life like that of an American.  Perhaps one may object that one needs to have the purchasing power in order to access the commodities for the better life.  The next approach will respond to this objection.

TRANSFORMATION

The third approach is “Transformation.”  This is grounded in a philosophical and theological reflection on the assumptions underlying the current way of proceeding, plus a personal and communal commitment to truth and the process of change.

In the discussions on misery, some people, for example, prescribe an equitable distribution of resources as the panacea for the scandal of need amid plenty.  In practical terms, it all boils down to donations from rich countries to poor ones.

That is why debt cancellation is said to be a matter of justice rather than mercy because it is the duty of those who are rich to share with those who are poor.  Though I do not disagree with this view, I think one needs a lot of thinking to see the validity of this claim.  I want to concentrate on resource-exchange, internal resource distribution and commitment to the process of change.

Zambia, Malawi and Zimbabwe are poor countries not necessarily because they do not engage in the production or exploitation of resources which can generate a lot of income.  The problem is that the conditions for the transfer of those resources do not come from within.  The price of tobacco, copper or other products comes from without (with a pretentious agreement with the sellers).

These prices hardly take into account the cost of production or the producer’s need for profit in order to continue with the production.  Unfortunately, the buyers know that if they do not buy the product in question, the producer will remain helpless.  What can a peasant do with cotton?  making pillows?

On the contrary, products coming from overseas do have price tags which take into account the cost of production and the profit needed for the continuation of the process of production. Unfortunately again, the goods from the West are so crucially important that the buyers cannot but purchase them.

This then poses the question: Is it possible to change things from inside?  Do we wait for change to come from outside (through our constant negotiations with the ‘'big guys’')?  This is really hard because one cannot force another to act differently unless there is an explicit legal pronouncement whose legitimacy is recognised by both parties.

Should we then produce only that which we ourselves can consume? What about foreign currency for purchasing medicine and other essential products?  Can tourism and other related sectors bring in enough foreign currency?  Can we develop ways of using everything we produce so as not to rely on the “market bosses?”  Or, should we limit our consumption to what can be produced locally?

But this goes against the universalistic conception of the needs of a human being irrespective of geographical or cultural placement. It would also be undemocratic to limit everyone to the consumption of local products.  Above all, there is no guarantee that the local producers will be just to their own people.

DIVISION OF LABOUR

Another question is the internal distribution of resources.  Here, too, there are some assumptions that need to be questioned as far as the appreciation of different people’s work is concerned.  While some people work hard but receive little remuneration, others work little and receive huge sums of money.

This then raises the question about the quality versus the quantity of work.  Do the miserable engage in the right type of work, even if they do it heavily?  Who and what decides which job is qualitatively better?  Is it the product? Is it the consumer?  So, if the poor are engaged in a qualitatively low job, why can’t they get a qualitatively high job?  Is their current job useful to society, any way?

Take for instance the case of a farmer who produces maize.  His work is essential for the community’s livelihood.  But why does he receive low remuneration for his work in such a way that he cannot afford to take care of other needs?  On the contrary, look at a minister (of state) whose work is mostly intellectual.  Unlike the latter,  he  receives a huge sum of money together with other benefits.

Should we then say that intellectual work is qualitatively higher than physical work?

I challenge this view because there is no evidence that mental work is superior to physical work.  Rather, they are complementary.  An idea remains an illusion (existing only in the mind) unless somebody finally puts it into practice by some physical means.  When we confront this question, probably the treatment of gardeners, maids, guards, cooks or peasants will change.

A more fundamental question touches on personal and communal commitment that is accompanied by accountability.  Sometimes, I feel that the discourse on misery is infected by the bacteria of hidden evidence and equivocation.  There is always a group that talks about the poor and the rich, but we do not know the group’s economic standing. 

POVERTY DISCOURSE

An authentic dialectic on poverty will not leave anyone’s socio-economic standing unprobed.  It seems it is easy to video-tape the misery of the poor but not the bliss of the rich.  Is it because the poor’s right to privacy is easy to encroach upon?

True, in as much as the situation of the poor ought to be shown, there is also need to show the blessedness of the rich in order to make visible the contrast between the two.

For example, when bishops write a pastoral letter on poverty, it would also be interesting if they did declare their socio-economic standing so as to indicate the extent to which they are apart from or a part of the suffering group.  The simple point is, Is there a congruence (to use Carl Rogers’ term) between the lobby groups’ desire to see a just society and its way of proceeding?

For example, does the Church’s Social Teaching match with the Church’s Social Practice?  The efficacy of the discourse on misery depends on its ability to show the role of everyone in the scandal of deprivation.

Similarly, the content of the discourse ought to be consistent.  Someone has interestingly defines a theologian as an expert in the equivocal art of interpretation.  Do we consistently label the poor as poor and the rich as rich?  Do we change the labels according to circumstances?

Any change of labels ought not to be regarded as dynamism but an inconsistency.  In other words, the relativasation of poverty compromises the urgency of the problem since each group of poor people is made to think about a poorer group.

The level of personal responsibility is crucial because it is linked with the mystery of sin.  That is why the discussion on misery ought to take seriously the theological dimension which is capable of unveiling the fundamental fault dressed up in the language of progress and civilisation.  The problem of misery cannot be solved merely by data analyses or logical criticism.  Reason alone, as we have learned from modernity, may be limited by time and space.  In order to find solutions to our problem, we ought to place ourselves at the heart of the Infinite Mystery that exists outside time and space.

KEEP TALKING

The discourse on misery in Africa can only be put to rest if solid philosophical and theological foundations of human suffering are discovered.  Such foundations ought to be all-embracing in such a way that some existing regressive assumptions are exposed and challenged.

Bringing misery to an end is the only way we can end this ‘boring’ subject. But as it stands, we have no permission to stop talking about it yet.

Wilfred Sumani, S.J.
Arrupe College
Harare