Sudanese multibillionaire Mo Ibrahim said his foundation’s decision to withhold the 2009 African Leadership Prize, now in its third year, was not an act of disrespect. It would have been nice to hand out in November in Tanzania the prize of $5 million (with promissary notes of $200,000 for life after that). But what do you do when the candidates fall short? The news headlines across the continent echo surprise, indifference and sadness, but they downplay the two biggest questions—why and what next?
It’s no laughing matter that two favorites for the prize—John Kufuor of Ghana and Thabo Mbeki of South Africa—failed to make the grade. Kufuor’s personal aide told a radio station in Ghana that the former president had no regrets. That is regrettable. In many respects, Ghana and South Africa under the leadership of Kufuor and Mbeki had been held up as shining examples to the rest of Africa. Both countries seemed to rate well on such criteria as good governance and democratic handover of power—key requirements for the prize.
For nearly eight years, Ghana ran a largely transparent and accountable government, investing heavily in economic reforms. Kufuor’s party, the New Patriotic Party, lost the last general elections not because the government had become wayward and badly corrupt—common vices on the continent—but largely because the pains of reform had been intensified by the government’s slow and confused response to the fallout from higher energy prices. Angry voters who felt they had been taken for granted lost their patience and voted for the opposition in the January 2009 runoff.
For its part, South Africa seemed to be doing well, especially given that country’s difficult post-apartheid legacy. Under Mbeki, though unemployment and crime remained major challenges, the economy was robust, posting an annual growth rate of 4.5 percent, while foreign investment surged, at least through the last quarter of 2006. Mbeki’s downfall could be laid first to his own obtuse style, and later, to his own party, which ousted him in a palace coup.
Given these achievements, therefore, it would appear that the top contenders, Kufuor and Mbeki, had been judged harshly when they were denied the African Leadership Prize, or that the award committee had been too idealistic in setting the bar this last round. What exactly was the committee looking for? I don’t think it was looking for angels. But if we consider objectively the key values of good governance and democratic handover of power, it clearly would have been difficult for either Kufuor or Mbeki to step forward for a leadership prize.
After his first term in office, Kufuor’s NPP began to fray at the edges, paving the way for serious charges of fraud against two of his ministers in 2005 and allegations that the government was treating corruption cases with kid gloves. The general election left a very bitter aftertaste. After the first round ended in a deadlock in December 2008, the runoff was almost marred by ethnic violence and litigation before the country pulled itself back from the brink. In its August 2, 2009 edition, the Nigerian newspaper Thisday, quoting former Ghanaian ruler Jerry Rawlings, suggested that even this salvation was partly a triumph of common sense and partly a triumph of diplomatic pressure on Kufuor by Nigerian president Umaru Musa Yar’Adua — himself the product of a dubious election.
As for Mbeki, he could have won the prize for championing “African Renaissance,” but slogans are never enough. It did not help that for years he denied the existence of AIDS. Because of his posture, his government neglected simple treatments that could have saved thousands of lives or helped reduce the spread of the disease. And his policy of appeasement helped turn Zimbabwe’s Robert Mugabe into a Frankenstein monster, worsening tension in the region.
As for Mbeki’s exit from power, it was not an end that he could have desired. He was as much a casualty of treachery from his party and Jacob Zuma as he was a victim of his own lust for power. A number of the life-after-office accounts of Mbeki’s saga suggest strongly that his troubles were compounded by his attempt, contrary to the rules, to amend the African National Congress constitution in order to tighten his grip on the party — a plot that could not have been lost on the Mo Ibrahim award committee. Mbeki, to use Mark Gevisser’s phrase, was “the dream deferred.”
So, why didn’t the panel look elsewhere on the continent? Ugandan leader Yoweri Museveni who once described the Organization of African Unity (now AU) as a “gang of criminals” has altered his country’s constitution, ushering himself into the same “gang” in grand style. Chad and Cameroon have also tweaked their constitutions. Nigeria and Kenya are still hurting from the results of their disgraceful elections while Guinea, Mauritania and Madagascar have been overthrown by military coups. The truth is that there’s hardly any leader on the continent today whose profiles and achievements can match those of former Botswana president Festus Mogae or former Mozambique president Joaquim Chissano, the two previous winners of the prize.
Yet it’s not all bad news for Mo Ibrahim, however. Two-thirds of sub-Saharan African countries have improved their governance in areas such as safety and security, human rights and the rule of law. This can only mean that tomorrow’s pool of worthy leaders is growing. To encourage that process, the foundation may need to invest directly in strengthening a few institutions—schools and research centres, for example — that impact leadership. It should also be more open to seeking alternatives the next time candidates fall short.
The AU needs to revive the peer review mechanism, an obviously moribund tool that was originally supposed to benchmark the continent’s leadership and make it more open and accountable. Rather than complain or seek scapegoats, the continent’s leaders should, at a minimum, declare their assets and leave them open to public scrutiny throughout their tenure and after. They must also resist, at all cost, the growing temptation to do business with other countries, notably China—including turning a blind eye to corruption and best practices—just to spite the west.
But the job of staying on the straight and narrow is too important to be left to the leaders alone. The press, the judiciary, public watchdogs and other institutions must hold their ground, maintain their integrity and fight for their space. Finally, since most elections are rigged long before polling day, monitoring must begin well in advance.
The road to the next prize starts today.
Azu Ishiekwene, a member of the editorial board of World Policy Journal, has been an investigative reporter, a features writer, a member of the editorial board, and the editor of Punch Titles, Nigeria’s highest selling newspapers. He is currently the executive publications director of Punch and writes a weekly Tuesday column. He is the author of Nuhu Ribadu, a book on Nigeria’s stalled anti-corruption war.