Cross Talk

Uniting a divided nation

Mohammad Badrul Ahsan
THE stick in the mud that he was, Robert Mugabe of Zimbabwe has changed his mind. Last week he agreed to share power with Morgan Tsvangirai. South Africa's president, Thabo Mbeki, who brokered this power sharing deal, resigned under pressure from his party. Within the same week, a deadly bomb ripped through the Marriott Hotel in Islamabad, killing 53. For us, a country desperately seeking national reconciliation, these are three live examples, respectively, of what's good, bad and ugly in political history. Mugabe, of course, is the bad example, a leader who clutched power for 28 years, put his country and people through immeasurable miseries and then saw the wisdom at the end of his rope that it was more honourable to share power with an adversary. Mbeki is the good example, a statesman who readily agreed to step down bowing to the verdict of his own party, sparing his people and country the pains of a power struggle. The ugly scene in Islamabad is a stern warning that arrogance of power is a dangerous thing. The bomb, which was targeted at the top leadership of Pakistan, sent more splinters to damage the country's political fabric than it did to destroy lives. Its loud explosion reverberated that Pakistan might be in yet for another long innings of internecine politics. We in Bangladesh are still privileged, like students who have a chance to improve before the final test. Whether all parties go to elections without further bickering, or the two leaders of the two leading parties sit down for power sharing, we still have enough rope of hope left before we hang ourselves. It's absolutely the last chance to do the right thing before things precipitate and this country is sucked into the feeding frenzy of a downward spiral of hatred and violence. So if one or more party refuses to go to the election in December, or the leaders still stick to their guns, unwilling to talk amongst them, and the caretaker government wants a quick fix to wiggle out of a responsibility that looks increasingly complex, the end result could be disastrous. It might sound flimsy, but a potent danger nonetheless. This country will descend into chaos from which it might not recover in foreseeable times. Pakistan is a case in point. The cracks in national solidarity offered dark and damp spots where mutants of animus grew deadly and strong. It can be blamed on al-Qaeda or homegrown religious fundamentalism, but the fact remains that, now, the country can't be ruled by a civilian government. In spite of predominant military presence, the government is struggling to keep its grip on a large part of North West Frontier Province. This is a critical lesson for us, especially at a time when we are standing at the crossroads of national disorientation. What should we do? Should we learn from Mugabe's belated awakening, Mbeki's timely decision, or Pakistan's frightening consequences? In the run up to the upcoming election, these are the vital questions to ponder for our politicians. Because, more than anything, what we are facing today is leadership failure. And, history is rife with examples that such failure, if continued unabated, throws a country into political turmoil. The United States of the 1850s is a perfect example. The period was characterised as a decade of political failure in which the nation's leaders were unable to resolve, or even contain, the divisive issue of slavery. The outcome was the American Civil War, which lasted 5 years, and altogether 680,000 soldiers and civilians, in a population of 31 million, perished. Amongst a litany of other examples are those countries, which have been ravaged by civil wars. Somalia is a country where leadership failure has been most pronounced in recent times. Who constitutes the leadership of the country? Is it the Transitional Federal Government? Is it the Islamic Union leaders? Is it the business moguls? Or is it the educated elite or the traditional class? In fact, similar questions are already arising in this country. If not quickly dealt with, these questions are going to acquire a life of their own, which means these questions are going to have moral ramifications, confusion supplanted by chaos, laying out a trail of moral mayhems when people are going to develop the mindset of children from broken homes. They will learn to live without a government, each becoming a government unto himself, taking law in their hands, breaking this country into spheres of influence ruled by musclemen potentates. It happens when the hardening of attitude takes place on both sides. Remember the civil strife in Sri Lanka? It started with disagreements between the Tamil and Sinhalese communities at the time of drawing up the constitution. The Sinhalese tried to assert themselves on the Tamils and the Tamils resisted, which led to confrontational politics that escalated each time talks failed between them. What is needed more to fix our problem is not unity but civility. It doesn't matter if we have significant and deep disagreements so long as we also have equal or more common ground to stand on as a nation. If our leaders don't like to sit at the same table, how will they sit under one roof inside the same parliament? Nothing will change unless first we can accomplish this simple task. The leaders should have a common interest to work out their differences. This nation is fractured under its skin. In most cases a fractured bone is taken through a process called reduction. The broken bone is placed in a cast after a little pulling and tugging to achieve improved alignment. If reduction fails, then it might need surgery for fixing of the bone with pins, plates, screws or rods. Al Pacino says in Scent of a Woman that there is no prosthetics for an amputated spirit. Likewise, there is no prophylactic for a divided nation but its undying willingness to stay united. An urgent intervention is needed to avoid the risk of permanent disability.
Mohammad Badrul Ahsan is a columnist for The Daily Star.