Africa: Diplomacy Without Consequences – allAfrica.com

Africa: Diplomacy Without Consequences – allAfrica.com


The problem with the Rubio memo is not what it says about American attitude towards Africa, it is what it says about the country’s conception of itself and its historical mission as the world’s leading democracy.

It is quite possible that, in time, U.S. Secretary of State Marco Rubio’s directive limiting U.S. State Department commentary on the “fairness or integrity” of most elections will come to be seen as the most momentous foreign policy action taken by the Trump administration in Africa. The dismantling of the U.S. Agency for International Development (USAID)–and the arguable forfeiture of the “soft power” with which it was deeply imbricated–has been severely criticized. Yet, in defense of the administration, the agency was badly in need of reform, and, judging by the reaction of the African intelligentsia, critical judgment has all but turned against an agency seen by many as the institutional totem of African dependency.

That said, a directive that State Department officials refrain from commenting on the integrity of elections is a different beast, with implications that go beyond the problem of mere “interference” in the political affairs of other countries. The central problem raised by the directive is not, all said and done, about elections and American opinions of them, nor is it, as some commentators have advanced, about the tone of such statements and the need for Washington to tread carefully lest it comes across as telling people how to live their lives, more about which in a moment. On the contrary, what is at stake is whether, henceforth, the United States can be relied upon to be an advocate for democracy, rule of law, and governance by consent in a world in which pressure is mounting from the usual suspects for African countries to jettison those ideals.

The basic sentiment undergirding the argument that the United States should abstain from meddling in the affairs of other countries, especially poor African countries still smarting from decades of mistreatment and condescension, is a noble one. Many of those who push it are motivated by a genuine concern for the United States and its Western allies not to repeat the same diplomatic mistakes that have incurred the displeasure of many African countries and driven the same into the arms of its geopolitical rivals. An extension of the same argument is that Washington itself, being far from perfect, should desist from selling democracy to similarly imperfect countries.

The problem with this argument is that its conceptualization of “meddling” is so broad that no legitimate criticism of a particular regime is allowed, nor can any be countenanced. There is meddling, and there is demanding–which is not just acceptable, but mandatory in my opinion–that a hypothetical country or regime treat its people with dignity or respect the constitutional rights of human rights advocates, journalists, minorities, and so on. The case for permanent abstention in all but a minority of “rare” cases gives no guidelines as to how to distinguish between the two, and in so doing falls into the trap set by despots who seek to hide their moral atrocities behind precisely such pleas for non-intervention. No matter their intentions–and just to reiterate, I do concede that many of them mean well–advocates of non-meddling must own that the logic of their position puts them within the same ideological brackets as aspiring autocrats and full-blown authoritarians in Africa. The onus is on them to explain the difference between not speaking up about an electoral farce and giving moral succor to the dictator who stands to benefit from it.

The paradox that many people fail to grasp is this: America does not have to be perfect before it can ask illiberal regimes, whether in Africa or elsewhere, to clean up their act. Its preeminent position as the world’s leading democracy (its current travails notwithstanding) and chief enforcer of a liberal international order gives it that entitlement. Unfortunately, Secretary Rubio does not appear to get this. There is simply no way for America to “avoid opining on the fairness or integrity of an electoral process, its legitimacy, or the democratic values of the country in question.” America cannot long do this without avoiding unflattering comparisons with China and Russia, long seen as its geopolitical adversaries and, more important, its moral antipode in Africa. Does Secretary Rubio really believe that it is in American interest if African countries felt that there was nothing to choose between Beijing and Washington? Is there really nothing at stake for America when a leader shamelessly manipulates an election and runs the leader of opposition out of town? It may not be a problem for Beijing if people can’t tell it apart from Washington; it is definitely a problem for Washington.

America is at its best when it vigorously and unreservedly defends its founding creed, and when it sends a clear signal that it stands with those struggling to remake society in the name of that creed. If its involvement in Nigeria’s democratic transition remains evergreen in the hearts of prodemocracy advocates and human rights activists in Africa’s most important country (I should know, I was there), it is because Washington took the side of the Nigerian people against its morally bankrupt military elite. Eleke Cresent on Victoria Island in Lagos was not renamed after Walter Carrington, U.S. ambassador to Nigeria at the time, simply for effect. On the contrary, it was to honor the contributions of a man who, as the representative of the world’s leading democracy, spoke with moral clarity when Nigerians were desperate for an ally.