Multi-partyism is much more than political bickering

One doesn’t have to be a genius to deduce that something was seriously wrong in Africa in the 1980s.

The numbers speak for themselves. Per capita income decreased by two percent every year for ten years. One in three people was in absolute poverty. Population was soaring at 3.2 percent. GDP growth rate decelerated by over 50 percent. Aids was slashing national GDPs by 0.6 percent every year. Trade deficit was increasing and national debts got higher and higher.

By the early 1990s, there was a huge need for political and economic reform to get things back on track. The famous American economist, Jeffrey Sachs, opined then that had Africa taken an alternative path, average incomes would have tripled between 1965 and 1990. Creditors such as the World Bank and IMF needed their money back, so they imposed Structural Adjustment Program (SAP) policies to revive the economies with debt-repayment as a priority.

In Tanzania, multi-partyism came through that back door.

The people didn’t want it – only 20 percent of the population voted for it. Those in government didn’t want it too, and they actively campaigned against it, but there was a push from without and, thankfully, cooler heads within prevailed.

The need for increased democratisation in Tanzania had been championed by a number of individuals. Names such as Chief Abdallah Fundikira, Seif Sharif Hamad, and James Mapalala come to mind. A good number of these pioneers were forced into the opposition when they felt that their views were no longer welcomed by Chama Cha Mapinduzi (CCM). Thus multi-partyism provided the only legal avenue for them to be involved in politics.

Immediately after Tanzania transitioned into multi-partyism on July 1, 1992, they lost no time in capturing the public’s attention. One such politician was the Reverend Christopher Mtikila.

Unlike others, Mtikila didn’t have his roots in CCM and didn’t have an organisation that included strong political figures. Nevertheless, with great personal conviction and charisma, he singlehandedly moved the masses wherever he went, announcing that “the hour of redemption is now”. He managed to establish himself as one of the most effective opposition politicians in Tanzania. His creative use of concepts such as “walalahoi” and “walalahai” will forever remain in the public psyche.

But multi-partyism is more than great oratory and political squabbles.

While Africa was languishing in the 1980s, many Asian nations were undergoing dramatic transformation. Average GDP growth in China and South East Asia, for example, leapt from 6.2 percent and 4.8 in the 1970s to 8.5 and 7.2 percent in 1980s, respectively. After years of trial and error, many of these nations had stumbled on formulas that worked.

Africa needed a paradigm shift. It was easier to externalise the causes of Africa’s underdevelopment – the fall of commodity prices, drought, rising inflation, imperialism, the Cold War, etc., but the main difference between Africa and Asia was the poor choices African leaders made.

Thus, multi-partyism was to provide a forum for political competition. It is through free engagement of ideas, whether social, economic or political, that people determine the direction they want to take and the leaders they want to lead them.

Multi-party political competition was expected to weed out government’s lethargy – the presence of competition was expected to motivate those in power to raise their performance. As long as the opposition exposes abuse of office, bureaucracy, waste, non-conformance to laws and regulations, etc. in government institutions, change was to occur. Therefore, political competition is the means but not the end in itself. The goal is development.

Unfortunately, there are leaders who, either out of failure to comprehend the essence of democratisation or in an attempt to safeguard their selfish interests, decided that multi-partyism meant politics without free political competition. These leaders decided that the status quo should be maintained. Indeed, no expense was spared to ensure such results.

In the past 30 years, the list of such villains is long. It includes political leaders, electoral officers, police commanders and, remarkably, even some elements within the military. The need for continued civic education is paramount.

But no one embodied such villainy more than John Pombe Joseph Magufuli. Prof Issa Shivji describes him as a “Messianic Bonaparte” on account of, one, his dramatic ascent to power at a time of ideological paucity, and, two, his extensive use of religious and nationalist views to justify his rule. Magufuli believed he was beyond reproach. All potential sources of opposition – political parties, NGOs, press, individuals, etc – were thus suppressed to a degree never seen before in Tanzania.

If there was ever a leader whose ideas needed to be challenged, Magufuli was one. In a free political environment, many of his regressive views would have been exposed much sooner. Nonetheless, in a multi-party system that is bereft of its essence, the man rose to the presidency and opposition voices started to disappear, literally.

That is what you get from lack of political competition.

Once again, democratisation is about development. When you have people who prefer no political competition, the future of the nation is imperilled. This is why Tanzanians need to echo the voices of those who have been calling for a new constitution to pull out such regressive elements from its system.

The world is changing fast and the next 30 years will be momentous. If Tanzania will seize this moment, the next generation will be unrecognisable for the progress it will have made. If not, Tanzanians will have themselves to blame.