Soyinka: Justice Is Never ‘Siddon Look’! Published on October 30, 2013
By Wole Soyinka
We leave it in the hands of the Almighty … I always wish that I were God for just one second. I would look down in contempt and say, Very Good. Under the authority conferred upon me by that very humanity – I hereby transfer your case – to the Devil.
Let me be candid. It was with mixed feelings that I accepted to
deliver this lecture. On the one hand, I felt that it was a duty owed,
not simply to an individual who has endured the “slings and arrows of
outrageous fortune” – to borrow from the famous soliloquy by our Bard
for all seasons, Shakespeare – but because the very nature of that
individual’s “slings and arrows” sums up what appears to be the most
engrossing preoccupation of human society – that elusive quarry being,
very simply – Justice. Unvarnished. Unambiguous. Blindfolded as
symbolic representation in judicial iconography but – decidedly not
blind. Indeed, it strikes me now as being almost an entire lifetime
ago when, little suspecting that I was summing up my own existential
raison d’etre, I declared that: Justice is the first condition of
Humanity. To have declined to answer the call to deliver this address
therefore would have left me with quite a few sleepless nights.
On the other hand, as some of you here may be aware, I had announced
that I had had my fill of public interventions, and had enrolled as a
student in that much underrated discipline known as – Retirement from
Public Life. I must admit that I have proved a disappointing student,
indeed not merely disappointing but an ‘international embarrassment’.
If you don’t believe me, ask a newly minted addition to the academic
world, female edition, who recently returned from South Korea with a
doctorate degree in record time. Mind you, the fault is not entirely
mine. All my professors are on strike nation-wide, and so, a
straightforward course that should have seen me graduate in a mere
semester or two is being stretched – as has become the norm for
thousands of my fellow students – stretched into an indeterminate
future. Heaven alone knows when I can proceed to induction for my
Youth Service!
Why did I take that ‘retirement’ decision – quotation marks – in the
first place? For the same reason as many others have. There comes a
point when one feels that all that can be said has been said. The
problem with that conviction of course is that one then becomes a
compulsive reminder of what has indeed been spoken, crying out in
spite of oneself – but I warned you. I told you so. So did others.
Didn’t So-and-so say the same thing barely a month ago? Etc. etc. It
is a human compulsion, especially for those who have inherited, it
would appear, some teaching genes somewhere down their family line.
Like all teachers, there come those moments of utter weariness and
frustration when the teacher loses control and assaults his
recalcitrant pupils physically, becomes an alcoholic, checks himself
into a rehabilitation home for manic depressives, or takes to the
order of the Trappists – that monkish order that is sworn to eternal
silence, even among themselves. And others go quietly mad. Whenever
you encounter a gentleman in a somewhat threadbare suit and scuffed
shoes, shuffling along the road while muttering to himself, perhaps
with book in hand, intermittently barking out savagely, “What did I
tell you? What did I just tell you?” – check on the background of that
individual – he is likely to have been a former teacher, finally
driven out of his wits.
To avoid that fate therefore, I am sure most psychiatrists will
approve my recourse to a regimen of pre-emptive therapy, not claiming
to be a prophet, but simply pointing out what has been said before.
This involves taking on the role of a memory prod in a structured way,
quite unapologetically. Yes, many have warned. They have warned
tirelessly and in various forms, become nearly deafened by the sound
of their voices as it bounces back from the stone walls of
indifference, complacency and/or complicity. Some are dead, their
hearts caved in by the sheer pummeling of predicted, avoidable
disasters. Others are still living, their voices turned hoarse from
the curse of repetitiousness. The most notorious example of that today
is of course the so-called National conference – of which more in a
moment. As with many other propositions, the social context – which is
ever changing – may provide a veneer of fresh thinking, but the stark
truth is that all has been said, cogently and relevantly. However, it
would sometimes appear that ‘the stone that the builders
rejected…..etc. etc. you know the rest. The question however is
whether or not the optimism of the Scriptures – christian edition – is
right, and that this rejected stone – often abusively dismissed –
indeed proves to be the cornerstone of a new, modestly viable edifice.
However, even a child knows that, before the erection of a simple farm
hamlet, the ground, large or small, has to be cleared, the debris
burnt or ploughed back into the ground where it is converted into
entirely new matter – compost – or else disposed of in such a manner
that it loses its earlier capacity to obstruct, compromise or endanger
the new organism. Those who think they can erect a future without
first ridding the ground of past debris fly against the natural order
of regeneration. They carry with them negative baggage that already
conflicts with the envisioned transformation, or a new organism.
Of all the conceivable negative baggage I can think of right now, the
most pressing, I have always maintained, takes the form of a critical
absence, subversion or suppression of – Justice. One of the
elementary lessons we all learnt from school, even those of us with
incurably unscientific minds, is that – Nature abhors a vacuum. In the
absence of justice, something else takes its place, a monstrosity in
myriad forms and shapes, fecund with yet unencountered horrors –
indeed even as the portals of Justice are shut, the lid of a Pandora’s
box is opened. These are not mere figures of speech but narratives of
experienced reality. No society is exempt, and no one experience is
unique. They all differ in form, intensity and duration – no more.
How have we fared, within this environment that most immediately
sustains us – well, sort of? I shall evoke here one of the most
notorious public profile cases of the serial degradations of Justice
that seemingly shook this nation to its foundations. There are other
cases we could cite – the murder of Dele Giwa for instance. Or Harry
Marshall. Kudirat Abiola. Suliat Adedeji. A.K. Dikibo. Abukakar Rimi.
Barnabas and Abigail Igwe, husband and wife, both officers of the law.
Or Chief Dina – lest I stand accused of omitting my own homestead. Or
indeed numerous others, so quickly relegated into the sump of unsolved
cases. My choice today, the main reference point for our sobering
retrospection is however singularly apt. Despite his terminal absence,
that preeminent victim shares with our celebrant, albeit in a tragic
mode, the ironic symbolism of ‘Justice in Denial’, a role that
interrogates both the very concept and operations of Justice, and
also, the main structure for its delivery, which is – the Judiciary.
No one will question the seismic impact of the circumstances that took
him from our midst, a dastardly deed which, as already claimed, shook
the nation to its very foundations. However, the nation did not topple
over – from all appearances. Nonetheless, I am reminded of the
condition of Washington ‘Cleopatra’s Needle’ which dominates the zone
of the seat of US government – Capitol Hill. When Washington underwent
an unprecedented earthquake in 2011, quite mild in comparison with
those that regularly hit the other side of the continent – California
especially – that nation gave a sigh of relief that very little damage
had been done. As we all know however, nations like the United States
do not rest satisfied with appearances. Visible or not, internal
damages – that very possibility – preoccupied the guardians of public
monuments and safety. Thus, after meticulous inspection, it was
discovered that the landmark column had indeed been damaged, cracked
so badly that it had become unsafe. It has been closed down since,
undergoing repairs – no visitors allowed. If you happen to visit
Washington – as I did recently – you will find that famous plinth
trussed up – but quite nicely – like a valued but badly injured
athlete. Do try and have that image stamped on your mind as we
proceed.
There are many events that sap the morale and integrity – even
credibility – of nation being, many of them completely shut out from
media mention, much less branded on the public mind. I consider the
brutal elimination of the highest placed Custodian of the Law one such
event. This, I believe, is a reasonable attribution, especially when
you consider that it is, in effect, from such a position that
authority is derived by lesser officers of the law for the pursuit –
or abandonment – of judicial proceedings. Critical as his position is
however, I make the claim that even this supervening responsibility is
still subordinate to the role and obligations, and innate potentiality
of the community for which he holds this office in trust. This is why,
despite all appearances, and although we cannot deny that the feet of
justice often appear to tread slowly, and ponderously, indeed
agonizingly snail paced, we need to fasten on to the conviction that,
sooner or later, it arrives. As long as a people exist in full
self-awareness, conscious of their inherent designation as the final
court of jurisdiction, Justice cannot be eternally denied.
And that leads directly to the ultimate question, one which – let me
emphasize and re-emphasize – merely takes on extra cogency when the
voices that are denied justice are those who embody and administer
justice, such as our present Celebrant, and one that we have described
as the Highest Custodian of the Law. This question on my mind applies
to every past and potential seeker after justice – from the
administrators of justice themselves such as our protagonist here, to
the bolekaja driver shot dead by a policeman for refusing to part with
50 kobo – and that question is this: what is the role of the rest of
us – the in-between humanity – while that cry for justice awaits the
arrival of the chariots of Law in its awesome Majesty? Do we adopt,
literally, that often misunderstood commentary of the very
Attorney-General and Minister of Justice of the nation, the very
figure whose butchery constitutes my core reference for today’s
retrospective? Do we – fold our arms and “siddon look”?
Most of the time, it would appear that we have no option. When
Justice appears to fail even its own immediate, high-echelon servants,
fails to protect them and, failing, yet again fails to avenge them,
the rest of us can be forgiven for succumbing to sheer inertia. Don’t
forget that we all live in sheer terror of that Majesty and hate to
incur its wrath, often captured in that no-appeal writ – Contempt!
That always places limitations on our scope of commentary, especially
while a case is under trial. Sub judice means, watch your tongue, and
that is merely one of the many areas of absolute authority that the
Law exercises over the citizen. That Majesty exercises dominance over
virtually all other claimants to the vector of Power – over the
politician, governor, even over Heads of State – I speak of course of
ordered society, not shambolic, anarchic spaces masquerading as
democracies or, more honestly, as open dictatorships. Under both – we
need no reminders – anything goes. Even the supposed enforcers of the
Law, high or low, become what are known as scofflaws. Governors are
blithely selective of what court orders they obey, and presidents
become completely deaf and blind to judicial orders. Following
examples from on high, even the smallest minnows in the seepage of
officialdom become manic in the contest for the space of power.
Where they all are bested however, is in the province of Authority –
there, Law dominates. Note, I do not even qualify this by saying – in
an ideal state. I mean, at all times. Law, even where it is
temporarily obscured, emasculated, predominates. Written or unwritten
– Law embodies the total will of society in its self-regulation and
as unexceptionable vector of a people’s arbitrational intelligence –
yes, Law exercises an Authority that transcends mere Power. This is
why we must task those who serve as administrators of Law with an
ethical rigour, a measure that is paralleled perhaps only by what
society expects of medical doctors who minister to a people’s physical
and mental health, or religious ministers who are preoccupied with the
requirements of the spirit. I am always at great pains, repeating for
the benefit of those who are sometimes torn, or caught between these
two axes – Power, and Authority – that they are as alike as any two
lobes of the kola nut. They may look the same, smell the same, taste
the same, wear the same tints but, neither weighs nor measures the
same. Ask any botanist or – better still – kolanut farmer.
What else but this consensus of respectful submission to Law as
Authority made it possible for the nation to keep silent during those
years that a notorious torturer and butcher, under the late dictator
Sanni Abacha, made a mockery of its system while under trial with a
series of nauseous antics? During that trial, he insulted the patient
servitors of Authority as he played for time, deployed every delaying
tactic conceivable, stretched every concessionary thread in the law to
its absolute limit, impugned the integrity of the courts, ever hopeful
of a change in the political order – that is, hopeful of the corrupt
intervention of Power, of unprincipled political bargaining under
electoral calculations and ambitions – a ploy that we know, nearly did
succeed in his favour under one government . We are speaking here of a
proven torturer at the very least, once brimful of his trickle-down
omnipotence, who engaged in cheap variations on Nollywood blustering
stereotypes in a calculated bid to delete his date with the gallows.
However, we shall not allow that case to divert us from our ultimate
destination. In any case, the ball has been thrown back into the lap
of the Judiciary, making it sub judice. As quite readily admitted,
some of us live in mortal terror of that No-Appeal judicial
pronouncement known as – Contempt.
We need to continue to sustain ourselves with that confidence in the
ultimate primacy of Authority over Power, especially where verdicts
that stem from the former prove a hard pill to swallow. Even outright
dictatorships – theocratic, military or simply secular – make a
pretence of acknowledging this substantive authority, although we are
all familiar with how structures of delegated power make a mockery of
that institution subtly or brutally, piecemeal or entirely, furtively
or frontally. Despite such affronts in impunity, we must continue to
identify with, and draw social solace from this manifest
differentiation: Power is one thing; Authority is another. The former
is constantly up for grabs, the latter, grounded in public will –
barring of course the sweeping Marxist denunciation of Law as an
expression of the ruling class. One constantly vies for attention, for
extrusive supremacy, the other is innately replete in its myriad
manifestations, often understated and, finally – Power is limited and
ephemeral, while Authority is boundless and timeless. This is not to
deny that there are instances where Power and Authority truly converge
– that, after all, is one of the craved goals of democracy. Such
instances abound, but they merely remind us of the differentiation.
Here is a case in point, if I may jog memories. Very early in our
career of independence in the Western Region, after exhausting the
judicial structures provided within the country itself, the contenders
moved their case to the Privy Council in the United Kingdom. On the
eve of judgment, the Federal government, having been apprised of the
tenor of decision, quickly passed a law that nullified, in one stroke,
the jurisdiction of that body over the Nigerian legal system. That is
Power at work at its crudest, a classic case of the contest between
Power and Authority. By that very act of renunciation however, in an
ironic way, Power had merely acknowledged the hierarchy that assigns
the gavel of supremacy to Authority over and above Power, and
accorded, in the process, a moral victory to the plaintiffs in the
case. As we know from that history, Justice was slow to reassert
itself but, ultimately, it did. And who were the handmaidens of that
restitution? The people themselves. The thwarted humanity of a
violated space. This is why we must never despair. Where Justice
appears to have failed, we discover that there is always a higher
order of restitution lying in wait.
Of a similar, yet divergent tenor was the case of the former governor,
presently Senator, a serial paedophile caught literally with his pants
down. For that opportunistic pervert, it proved convenient to reverse
the relationship between Power and Authority, assigning the former to
Law and the latter to his personal Scriptures. As with almost
everything else, there is little more to add to what has already been
said, but those who are still interested may wish to browse through
one of my INTERVENTIONS series – Volume III – titled THE PRECURSSORS
OF BOKO HARAM. I urge that you keep just two thoughts in mind. One:
when you enthrone your private, or sectional Authority in opposition
to the collective, sooner or later comes along a more uncompromising
private challenger to your fragmentary authority – small letters –
armed with greater unscrupulousness and brutality. And secondly: that
this nation failed that underage girl who was sold as a mere sex
object across national frontiers, one who deserved the protection of
the Law. As civil society, we surrendered to religious blackmail and
intimidation, and the beneficiary of that moral collapse is the
monster that now goes today by the name of – Boko Haram.
Related to the foregoing, we should pause and clarify in our minds
just what we mean by an expression I employed earlier – a Higher Order
of Restitution. That clarification is necessary, because some
habitually place that ‘higher order’ in the realms of the Unseen,
making themselves the privileged intermediary and interpreters of
directives or decisions from that fictive realm. This is a dangerous
avoidance of responsibility or, as in the last cited instance,
blasphemous opportunism. I refer here however to catechisms of
resignation such as – “leaving everything in the hands of God”, and
allied sermonizing. When literally embraced, as in the literal
invocation of ‘siddon look’, it simply leaves an open field to
bullies, cheats, malefactors and all kinds of social predators. Again,
I must point out that there are those whose deployment of that phrase
is purely metaphorical. With them, all they are saying is, let’s wait
and see, rather than fulminate pointlessly and impotently. Worse than
inaction, I find, is pretence to action. With the literal advocates of
an Invisible, Supreme Arbiter however, when, for instance, a murder is
committed, or when, yet again a plane crashes, we are enjoined to
accept what is a human lapse, neglect, or criminal commission as an
act of God, the will of Allah or whatever other name by which their
Omnipotence is known. I always wish that I were God for just one
second. I would look down in contempt and say, Very Good. Under the
authority conferred upon me by that very humanity – I hereby transfer
your case – to the Devil.
I hope it is understood that we are not playing semantic games –
translate what we are expressing here into any language as we proceed
and the message remains the same. It addresses a cankerous tendency of
our humanity, one that eats into the social will within which resides
Justice, renders flaccid the redressing temper that should be innate
to any self-respecting humanity.
Let us continue with our ground clearing exercise: of a different
temper, albeit also dangerously allied to the literal application of
“leaving everything to Almighty God” is the expression, “leave
everything to time” or its many variants such as “it’s all a matter of
time” or “Time will tell”. These however represent a tolerable
ambiguity in social attitudes. But it is equally critical to assure
ourselves that we are not thereby taking refuge in the ante-chambers
of the lair of Resignation, preaching that sooner or later, a
resolution will unfold ‘in God’s own time’. This, surely, is not the
ideal of which humanity is capable. Even that expression “Time will
tell” – translate it, for instance into – igba lo gba – should be
limited to a candid acknowledgement that, for the moment – I repeat,
for the moment – we lack the means to bring about the closure, the
cause of justice that haunts us asleep or screams us awake. If justice
could be served in one fell swoop, in seconds, society would be
paradise made real. Alas, it is hardly ever thus. On that basis, even
social impotence can be absorbed as a temporarily affliction. This
means that we remain ever watchful, awaiting the moment when the
broken moral order of existence – the order of violation and
restitution – can be reestablished. It demands – most critically –
that we routinely ensure that memory does not go permanently to sleep.
That we reject that sticker that goes on police files to read FILE
CLOSED where the wounds and lacerations within society, with their
suppurations remain – WIDE OPEN. After all, a credible branch of that
very category of believers that we indicated earlier also agrees that,
“Heaven helps those who help themselves”. So even the theology of
resignation remains permanently contested, leaving to us one critical
component of human definition – Choice. We can choose resignation, or
we can maintain that Justice is the paramount definition of social
existence, and thereby assist, exhort and provoke Justice in its
mission of self-fulfillment.
Why do we insist that this is incumbent on the social conscience? The
answer is straightforward. Each death, so goes the saying, diminishes
us. Each unjust death however debases us, one and all! And we are not
speaking here only of those unjustly railroaded to the gallows through
the flawed mechanisms of the judicial process, especially in those
societies where Power – operating as Class, Race or other schema of
human separatism – has usurped the mantle of Justice and condemned the
innocent to the gallows, the electric chair, or the gurney of lethal
injection – check the trajectory of justice within the United States
of America. No, we are speaking here of Power, exercised through
secretive or blatant surrogates, of corrupt power that extinguishes
the lives of innocents, while procuring the violators the shield of
immunity. This is a phenomenon that has become rampant in this nation
on an unprecedented scale over the past two decades, with a chillingly
predictable outcome – CASE UNSOLVED!
How far back do we wish to go? What new manifestation of impunity
makes us gasp? How many accusing fingers do we count pointing in this
or that direction while awaiting divine solution from the Unseen
Arbiter? While memory is put to sleep, the founts of justice are
polluted from the effluvium of power. This is when citizens despair of
the very possibility of Restitution and closure, and thus move to
challenge Power itself, despite all its agencies of intimidation and
social control, including violence, simply for that modicum of dignity
that defines them as creatures of feeling, of social apportionment and
equity.
Time to return to the victim figure in our appointed case, the very
voice which , before its brutal silencing, gave rise to that ambiguous
expression of “siddon look”. As I have pointed out, that phrase was
anything but an invitation to resignation. The most direct proof of
this of course was that, even from the day that he uttered that
phrase, he himself never did “siddon look”. Very much the contrary!
And this was why he suffered incarceration under the very regime in
response to which that phrase was uttered, a passage that eventually
turned out to be an augury for his eventual martyrdom at the hands of
yet unknown assassins in his own bedroom, and another shameful chapter
in the growing anthology of unsolved crimes. But – unsolved? That
really is the question that should agitate our minds. Are such cases
truly unsolved? Or should our question confine itself to asking: are
there not those among us – and in positions of public responsibility –
who hoard valuable knowledge? We cannot resurrect the dead but it is
in our power, indeed it is imperative that society, lest it be buried
alive with it, resurrect what has been buried alive. Those who are
capable of a deep, unbroken sleep with a succession of live burials in
their backyards and front gardens are truly superhuman beings. I envy
them, readily acknowledge that I belong to the lesser breed who only
sleep fitfully, haunted by the ghosts of live burials, knowing fully
well that Impunity is an insatiable monster that can hardly ever be
reined back once let loose on society. Those who doubt this only need
remind themselves of the statistics of political deaths that have been
the lot of this nation, not counting those that have been disguised as
armed robbery or casualties in the now burgeoning trade of kidnapping.
We must stop paying lip-service to Justice, or else name this the New
Age of the Brute, while other societies continue to fine-tune their
mechanisms of Law to such an extent that they can even begin to boast
of a New Era of Enlightenment. In the wake of the enquiries into the
murder of the late Attorney-General of the nation, Chief Bola Ige, I
drew attention, again and again, to the outcry of a judge, Justice
Femi Abass, who revealed that intolerable pressure had been placed on
him from ‘unexpected places’ to subvert justice in the application for
bail from the principal accused. In several statements, one of which
has appeared also in the very first of that same series INTERVENTIONS
- Justice,,,,Funeral Rites – I urged that this principled judge, who
had kept meticulous notes, detailing time, date, place and names of
his improper lobbyists – among them, lawyers sworn as officers of the
law – preached that he should be invited to submit his diary for
examination, so that the nation could affix names to these faceless
people, extract from them the identities of those on behalf of whom
they were acting, and why they all had such an inordinate interest in
the case. Only then, I insisted – and still so insist – would the
mystery of that high-level murder conspiracy be resolved. I revealed
that photocopies of two pages of Justice Abass’ diary were in my
possession – as well as with other individuals to whom the judge had
consigned them – and the entire diary – for safe keeping. The
implications of their content must surely be of interest – at the very
least – to state agencies such as EFCC and ICPC. Attempted bribery,
after all, is not irrelevant to the portfolios of these bodies, one of
which was, after all, then headed by a former justice and the other, a
police officer. Currently, EFCC is pursuing a case of a forgery ring
for US visas – so how could there have been such a lack of interest in
bribery attempts within the judiciary, and in such a notorious case?
Concerning the direct investigators on the case, I indict you yet
again before the nation and before the world: you cannot claim to be
serious about a murder enquiry if you fail to take an interest in
those shadowy fronts who attempted to influence the presiding judge.
It means, very simply, that you have deliberately refused to follow
valuable leads. Here is an extract from my commentary at the time:
“Was it simply a routine move that Justice Abass was transfered out of
his seat of judgment in Ibadan soon after? Another coincidence? Until
the spirit of that murdered national and international servant is
appeased by Truth and Revelation, its feet will continue to sprout
above the very ground we all tread. Something is truly rotten in the
state of the nation, where a judge screams out loud to be saved from
‘pressure from high places’ and his cry goes unheeded.”
Impunity breeds impunity. Consider the two cases – Justice Femi Abass
and Justice Ayo Salami in detail, both in fact and in spirit. Was the
predicament of today’s celebrant, Ayo Salami, not the very child of
the travails of Femi Abass? And do tell me, what role did Power play
in both crises of Authority? Come to its aid? Or bury it deeper in the
cesspit of impunity? In the unheeded cry of pain that issues from the
throat of Justice, we hear the death-rattle of mere mortals, and
ultimately the death-rattle of a nation.
That stench refuses to be dissipated. It envelops us, contaminates us
as citizens of the same nation space. In the pursuit of justice,
delay must be counted an accessory, but permanent silence in itself
becomes an equal partner-in-crime, its culpability level rising with
time. Just as the nation constantly renews itself, so must that
organism that we deem Ultimate Authority, and that is one organism
that must extend the longest reach into an even longer memory. It goes
beyond self-defence, the need to avoid the unleashing of forces that
may prove untamable, a deluge of pent-up rage and frustration from
denial, from the accumulation of criminalities against those who have
placed their trust in the last resort, the hallowed hall of equity. It
is not simply the realization that when that sanctuary falls, anarchy,
citizen vendetta, and the collapse of the civilized state will follow,
sooner or later. It goes beyond the fact that the past returns to
haunt us, that taking refuge in the culture of convenient oversight
regenerates criminality in an interminable spiral, each loop stronger
than the last, since it rides on precedents of impunity. It is simply
a case of preserving – or else restoring – the integral wholeness of
an institution that is both symbolic and actual, at once serene yet
pro-active, unflappable yet impassioned, that citadel of ultimate
recourse that we revere as Justice.
Today, in this nation, Justice is on trial! But let me repeat: I do
not task the Judiciary alone as the agency for bringing that
validation of civilized society – Justice – within the reach of all.
No, it is no news that the Judiciary is on trial. Blatant
manipulations, haggling and marketing of justice on the auction block
have scandalized us in the public domain, sufficiently clamorous to
have prompted the new Head of the Supreme Court to embark openly on a
reform agenda. It is when the people themselves fail to hound the
other agencies of Justice until they bring the culpable to lie
prostrate before that throne that is raised to Justice, where the
people themselves abandon the critical role of memory and the virtue
of persistence – that is when Justice finds itself in the universe of
doubt, of cynicism and finally, repudiation. We all are profoundly
responsible. We all are, both those who believe that ‘siddon look’ is
the literal portion of citizenry, and others, who understand that it
is an ironic challenge to complacency and a rebuke to supine
acquiescence. The failure to ensure Justice in its multiple forms,
even when it takes, optimistically, the form of eventual forgiveness
and reconciliation – for these are also valid routes to the altar of
Justice – Revelation, Contrition, necessarily strengthened with
Restitution, then Forgiveness or Reconciliation – yes, these are also
components of Justice that should never be underestimated – this route
that calls on a magnanimity of spirit are never excluded. But first,
Revelation – this is where we all empowered – those who are in direct
possession of the truth, and the rest who can compel this minority to
reveal what they know. Where the clumsy machinery of state fails,
defaults or betrays, then we must, as conscionable beings, assist
Justice to fulfill its being through every means at our disposal. The
simplest of these means costs nothing. It is accessible to high and
low, rich and poor, the powerful and the powerless, and that
possession is known as – Memory. The refusal to forget, until Justice
is made manifest, felt in the most mundane aspects of our communal
being. This, in every sense, is the validation of events of honour
such as this, convocations that challenge the complicity of Power in
depredations against Authority. Reinstate this victim of injustice,
screamed all the arms of Authority. But Power responded: No, I cannot
hear you. The lesson is clear: we must learn to scream louder, with
greater passion, and without relenting.
And now it is from that same source of monumental denial that emerges
a call to the nation to – Dialogue. Dialogue! Genuine? Sincere? Or
simply a distraction? A political ploy? A game? Yet another of the
self-serving gambits that this nation has endured at the hands of
predecessors in the seat of power? Or a new opportunity, perhaps the
very last, for a tottering giant to find its feet. Well, let us
assume that it will happen, that the calls for a boycott will give way
to – albeit – watchful participation. Why the call for a National
Dialogue in the first place? We could put the answer this way: an
acceptance – however belated – that something is amiss in the nation
weal. An acknowledgement that the foundation of nation being is deeply
flawed, that the parts of a supposed whole are malfunctioning, working
at variance with one another, that the turning of the wheel is far
from harmonious. All that is undoubtedly true, but when you seek the
common denominator of these ills, you will encounter, again and again,
that eloquent absence, a yawning abyss in place of the emanating core
of a nation’s heartbeat – Justice. Whether we are speaking of the
relation of the parts to one another, the relation of the parts to the
whole, the apportionment of a nation’s resources – both palpable and
intangible, both human and material, between denied or acknowledged
class stratifications, between and across Religions, between genders
and across interest groups however defined, between Power and
Authority – at base, and responsible for the nation’s crisis is that
immaterial presence but one that is palpably manifested in its effects
on individual and collective existence – Justice.
Permit me to seize upon one more excerpt from my tribute to that
individual whose voice resounded vibrantly among those who called for
that same dialogue. I cautioned:
“This is not a death in isolation. It thrusts itself outwards as an
encapsulation of the killings that have dominated our landscape these
many lamentable years. The question that this Absence places before us
is a simple one: shall we come together and engage in a sincere
dialogue, or shall we continue to splutter through these terminal
monologues of serial violence? Those who continue to reject this
dialogue of peoples – no matter by what name it is called – who
continue to concoct untenable reasons for its avoidance, and attribute
impure motives to its advocates, have merely chosen to concede the
last word to the Party of Death.
“We are a nation that kills our best. Generosity is a tainted word.
Largeness of heart is regarded as a medical condition, like an
enlarged heart, requiring drastic intervention. Tolerance is ridiculed
as the mark of weakness. And so we kill the generous, the large of
heart, the tolerant. Even the symbols that should heal and bind the
nation together are turned into agencies of death – including those of
faith, piety, religion…..”
“We are bound in a common cause to terminate the impulse that takes
our best, our brightest. Every day, we move closer to a polarisation
of the world into two communities – the community of life and – the
cabal, or Party of death. That death is inevitable is such a banal
comment on existence that it deserves no further avowal. When we speak
of the Party of Death therefore, we refer to those whose life mission
– often blasphemously transposed into a mandate of religion – is not
towards the enhancement of life as an inextinguishable continuum in
the consciousness of generation after generation – but a quick, and
easy resolution in butchery. We speak of the Party of Death as a
mindless surrender before the challenge that confronts and excites
others with the complexities of intuition, discovery, creativity and
the social articulations that define the human phenomenon. The feeble
twitches of the killer, however lethal, is a confession of that
intense frustration at, and admission of – creative impotence, of an
inability to extinguish the infinite experience that is life. We
reject the blasphemous who seek to play God by appropriating the right
to the measure of existence of humanity.
“Shall we come together and engage in a sincere dialogue?” I demanded.
That was twelve years ago, when Bola Ige was silenced, and of course
there had been allied cries from us all, even before then. Well then,
so now we have the same counter voices, scornful of the very notion of
dialogue, and they have done a 180 degree turn! Suddenly, national
dialogue is no longer the abomination in which it was clothed some
years ago. Ridicule has been transformed to sense of purpose, even
solemnity. And so, quite rightly, the people are suspicious. Why the
change of heart, goes the question? Why now? What deodorant has been
employed by those whose mouths were considered to stink when they
counseled Dialogue? National Dialogue? National Conference – with or
without that much misunderstood, much maligned word – sovereign.
Suspicion is therefore inevitable, even essential, but it should not
be allowed to scuttle prospects, however slim, of the renewed crafting
of protocols for a sane, disciplined and just society. That, above
all, a just society – socially, politically and economically just.
These are not rhetorical catch-phrases, though we often encounter them
glibly trotted out as such – most especially at election time. Those
interlinked compartments of justice – social, political and economic
are inescapable for the re-ordering of any social organism.
There are numerous – and clamorous – items that will vie for attention
within a proposed National dialogue. Without question, all over the
country minds are being rubbed together to catapult such issues into
prominence. My focus today has been quite simply and modestly – the
unfinished business of the living dead. And let no one attempt to fob
us off with fake pietisms such as letting the past bury itself. The
National Conference – if it does take place – must insist on a
Standing Commission, an independent Judicial commission to exhume that
past and re-open its case files. The late Yar’adua was not courting
votes when he ordered the police agencies to re-open such files and
provide the nation with answers. Please recall that I did meet
Yar’Adua both in company, and immediately after, on a one-on-one
meeting during the upsurge of MEND violence. His order has been issued
even before those meetings, at the very beginning of his tenure, and
was a response to the consciousness of a huge, ominous cloud that
weighed upon both governance and the governed polity. That undertaking
was a call for national exorcism, without which the nation not only
continues to live a lie, but invites the perpetuation of the homicidal
culture of impunity. From Argentina and her hideous record of torture
and the disapparecidos – as the simply vanished were known – to Rwanda
and the reign of the Hutu genocidaires, every nation has learnt that
it cannot guarantee a future, a stable future, without confronting the
past. A National Dialogue based on a pretence that there are no ghosts
hovering over the debaters? This again would be to build a future on a
yawning abyss – a guaranteed collapse of that very future, however
ingeniously crafted. The abyss is waiting to swallow it intact, to
accommodate, even enthrone the criminals of the past as guarantors of
future impunity. They are very much around, occupants of prestigious
positions, interfering in and even directing the nation’s destiny,
installing and re-installing their clones. Failure to mobilize against
them makes us willing accessories in our own destruction. The culture
of impunity is spreading fast, constituting a livid stain across the
national visage.
A word of caution. Dialogue mandates inclusion, but Dialogue does not
translate as Appeasement. If the goal is transformation, ordination of
a viable future, then those who make it a life mission to kill the
future cannot be part of the dialogue. To extinguish innocent lives on
their way to preparing themselves for that future, in classrooms, in
their dormitories, even in their homes, as has become the lurid,
vampiric signature of those who also claim to seek dialogue, and even
mouth the name of Justice, is a degradation of the very principle of
Dialogue, and a collapse of the destination of Dialogue that we term
the Future. A nation that shuns memory is a people without a future.
There are certain acts whose perpetrators have placed themselves
beyond the pale of humanity, and we must never shy away from expelling
them from community, or else re-define humanity altogether.
Earlier, I made a point of stating that Justice is sometimes served
even through the exercise of magnanimity, forgiveness and
reconciliation. Let us note however that none of these virtues panders
to appeasement. They demand, on the contrary, a rigorous process of
collective morality. I once described the heroic example of South
Africa’s Truth and Reconciliation in terms such as – a symbolic
passage through an archway, beyond which lies the future. One arc of
that archway is Truth, or Revelation, the other – Forgiveness, or
Reconciliation. Holding up both arcs, however, is the capstone.
Without that capstone, the archway collapses – as every builder will
testify. Both arcs converge upon that capstone, and its name is –
Restitution or – Justice.
Power is transient, Justice Eternal. I look around me, absorb the
quality of the assemblage in this hall, gathered in solidarity with
Justice as in “Justice in Denial”. These formal caryatids of the
vessel of Authority, are an eloquent testimony to the timeless craving
that separates brute power from humanized existence – that essence,
that leaven in the yeast of social ferment, bears the eternal name of
– Justice.
Being text of a Lecture delivered by Professor Wole Soyinka at The Honourable Justice Ayo Salami Lecture.
Abuja, October 30l 2013.
THURSDAY, OCTOBER 31, 2013. 7: 18 p.m. [GMT]
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