There's no bad constitution. It's the 'human factor'

There's no bad constitution. It's the 'human factor'

• Managing the bad news from the Pretoria talks

• Sanctions could strangle Zimbabwe 'baby' at birth

• Be watchful when hunting with hounds

• There're no angels in politics

• After the Zanuslide, beware of Zanu PF bearing gifts

• On the legality of Tsvangirai's pullout from election

• 'St Paul moment' can't be far for Mbeki

• What would Masipula say of military rule in Zim?

• Zimbabwe's disenfranchised voters

• MDC must prepare for worst case scenario

• Understanding Mugabe's 'End of History' ideology

• Zimbabwe's winter of discontent

• Zim's presidency and balance of power

• Mugabe's crisis of legitimacy

• Judging Justice Uchena's judgment

• Did they have to die for this?

• Challenging ministers' constititutional authority

• Waiting for Godot

• Mugabe: beware the Ides of March

• The Godfather and the Zanu PF Mafia Part III

• Fallacy of the secret ballot in Zimbabwe

• The significance of Dabengwa's conversion

• Preventing a tyranny of the majority

• Who is imposing whom and why?

• The Tsvangirai-Makoni question: the results

• Can Tsvangirai make the ultimate sacrifice?

• Makoni'sbattle against conspiracy culture

• Makoni and the politics of stability

• The trouble with gifts for the judiciary

• The limits of megaphone central banking

• Makoni, Tsvangirai & Mutambara: wise men from the East?

• Democracy without wealth: the Gordian knot in African politics

• Democracy: Africa's elusive dream?

• A non-human rights perspective of Zimbabwe's collapse

• Zanu PF succession: Mujuru and Mnangagwa in tactical retreat

• Zimbabwe: when the elephants fight, it's the grass that suffers

• Big Joes, Little Joes: Zimbabwe's merchants of disorder

• Politics is for the well fed, an old timer told me in Mbare

• The Godfather and the African Mafia Part II

• The Godfather of the Zanu PF Mafia

• The President's missing clothes

• Confronting Zanu PF's anti-imperialist rhetoric

• South Africa's self-serving quiet diplomacy

• When will Africa demonstrate solidarity with Zimbabweans?

• Do they sleep soundly at night?

• Indepedence: was it worth the sacrifice?

• Judges under pressure: the Madzimbamuto case

• Succession debate a means of control for Mugabe

• Reflections on Ghana's Jubilee

• What happens when politicians fail?

• Fanon and the car as a symbol of progress

• Could change in Britain have impact on Zimbabwe?

• Machiavelli and perils of change in Zimbabwe

• Of rats, donkeys and the CNN story

By Alex T. Magaisa

SOMETIMES, big lessons appear in the most unlikely of circumstances. I had a chance encounter a few years ago, with a gentleman whose impromptu sermon on the ‘human factor’ would profoundly affect my perception of the law and politics.

My schooling in law had left me with a devotion to the discipline so profound that much of my world-view was informed by rules and legal structures. We are taught, in Law School, that the constitution is the supreme law and that it is the last line of defence for citizens. It is not surprising, therefore, that in answer to all our troubles, people often refer to the need to ‘sort out the constitution’. But there is more to politics than the rules.

My friend Farai and I were on a trip to London, and to pass time on the train, we were engaged in a heated debate on the ills of our country. Much of the debate centred on the constitution being the root of all our troubles.

For almost the entire journey, a gentleman of advanced age sat quietly on the opposite side of the table, reading his newspaper. He would occasionally peep over his paper and study us in debate looking over his spectacles in that way that a head teacher stares at a bunch of naughty pupils.

As the announcer signalled our approach to London, the gentleman neatly folded his paper, making sure all corners were aligned. Then, fixing his gaze at both of us, he began to speak.

He said, ‘Allow me, boys, to intrude’, he said apologetically. I was struck by his audacity to address us as ‘boys’ but thought it best to indulge him in this instance. ‘I do not know much, but what is this constitution that you are fighting over?’ We explained that it is a document that contains rules regulating the use of state power and protecting the rights of citizens. We tried to keep it simple for the old timer.

‘Who makes the Constitution? Is it not made by man?’ he asked the two questions in succession. He spoke slowly, giving the impression of a man who gave thought to every word. It is made by man, we said.

‘So what makes you think that man cannot change this constitution if it does not suit his interests?’ he asked. We agreed that, indeed, it is often the case, especially in our country, that the constitution has been changed regularly whenever the rules have been inconvenient to the leaders.

‘Rules, young men, are made by man. Rules do not change man’s behaviour. Quite often, especially in politics, man changes rules in order to advance his interests. Do not ever sit back, even when you have inserted the most beautiful words in your constitution, and think that it will change your leaders. Good governance is not in the words of the Constitution. It lies in here’, he said, putting his right arm on his chest and knocking his index finger on his temple. ‘If it is dead there, no amount of words will give it life’. He paused while he studied the effect of his words on his audience.

‘It’s called the human factor’, he continued his little sermon on the train. ‘I can see you are good young men who read. Go on and read. One day you will understand what I mean by the ‘human factor’. Perhaps one day we will meet again and I hope then, you will tell me what you understand by the ‘human factor’ in politics’ I only ask you this, by way of example, did that man, the one who spent 27 years in jail and then became a leader in South Africa; did he need a Constitution to command him to leave power?’. He left it hanging, perhaps for added effect, in the way that an effective advocate concludes his address to an awe-struck jury.

The train slowly came to a halt as he finished. He took his briefcase and said ‘Good-bye and good luck, young men. One day your country will be blessed. Bu always remind them of the human factor’. We watched him proceed toward the exit. Neither of us said word. .

Ever since that day, I added to my task list to learn more about the ‘human factor’ that the preacher had referred to.

Later on, I attended a seminar on risk management, the topic of which was the ‘human factor’ in risk management. It was there that I learnt more about this phrase that the old man had introduced during the sermon on the train.

It is appropriate that I share with a wider audience, why ultimately, the future of our country is less dependent on the rule-based structures than on the influence of the human factor - thanks to the gentleman on the train whose name I may never know.

At the risk of over-simplification, it simply means that, the success or failure of a system, whether organisational or technological is affected not only by its internal components but also by the behavior of human agents responsible for its operation. In other words, organisations or technology might fail simply because of the risks posed by the people behind it. But when failures do occur, it is often very easy for people to blame the machine whereas, in fact they are the primary causal factor.

Take a car crash, for example; it cannot always be attributed to the failure in the vehicle’s mechanical or electronic systems. It may have happened simply because of the driver’s poor judgment. The driver may have been drunk, tired, inexperienced and one or more factors may have caused him to make a poor decision.

To transplant this into the political context, we should not always blame the structural aspects of the government machinery for governance failures. Therefore, whilst Zimbabwe needs to adopt a new Constitution and all manner of rule-based structures in the aftermath of these talks, success or failure will rest on the conduct and attitude of the men and women who will be entrusted with power. It will depend on a change of political culture which is the sum total of the human factor represented by the appointed leaders.

It is not surprising that Zimbabwe’s Constitution has been blamed for most of our governance problems, overlooking, in many ways, that the main problem is the political culture embraced by those human agents who control power. As long as they have no respect for those rules; for as long as they change the rules to suit their behaviour, as has been the case in the last 28 years, Zimbabwe will remain in the doldrums. The biggest challenge of the MDC appointees to cabinet will be to advocate for change in the political culture that has flourished under Zanu PF dominance.

It might surprise some readers to argue that even with the current constitution Zimbabwe could have done pretty well as long as those entrusted with power had the will and decency to serve the public interest. As the old man on the train intimated, former SA president Mandela did not need a set of rules to tell him to step down at the end of his first term. He did so because he is a decent man who realised that was the right thing to do at the time. He understood what he had achieved but also appreciated his limitations going forward – that there were others better placed to carry the torch. But, of course, because not all humans are hewn from the Mandela-fabric, rules have to be set to regulate the behaviour of those in power.

One key problem they will have to deal with is the ‘reward culture’ that seems to permeate the fabric of government. It betrays the notion that a cabinet post is some kind of ‘reward’ rather than a commitment to perform public service. In a sign of how the Zanu PF culture has damaged the collective psyche, even ordinary people often talk about how so and so will be ‘rewarded’ or how this politician ‘deserves’ to be a minister. ‘Ko uyu nhingi achapuwa chii?’, they ask (‘What post will they give him?’) as if it were a gift, not a task to serve the public. It is because ministerial office has been so abused over the 28 years that Zimbabweans simply associate it with wealth and unfair advantage.

I hope the men and women who will enter the new government will be guided by the desire to serve the public; and not view ministerial office as a wealth-creation vehicle. I hope these men and women will respect rules; because beautiful rules on their own will not change much. I hope the new men and women will confront and not embrace a retrogressive political culture.

As I type away, I am reminded of the words of J. C. Kumbirai, one of Zimbabwe’s great poets, whose poem my friend Tererai often recites. He wrote, ‘Ukafamba nembavha, iwe ukasaba, ndingati uri munhu mwanangu’. (‘If you find yourself in the company of thieves, and, you do not steal, I would be proud of you my son’).

I have asked Tererai to help me find the text of that great piece of art, Ndingati Uri Munhu Mwanangu. We shall send it to Mr Tsvangirai and company when they assume office. I like to think that even the old man who delivered that sermon on the train would be proud. I think that is what he meant when he spoke so eloquently of the ‘human factor’.

Alex Magaisa is based at Kent Law School, The University of Kent, UK and can be contacted at wamagaisa@yahoo.co.uk
JOIN THE DEBATE ON THIS ARTICLE ON THE NEWZIMBABWE.COM FORUMS