Introduction
An obituary on page 23 of South Africa’s Sunday Times edition of 27 November 2017 read, “Washington Okumu: Professor who saved SA from war in 1994”. Penned by Chris Barron, this obituary stated that Washington Okumu died in Kenya at the age of 80, saved South Africa (SA) from a possible bloodbath when he persuaded Inkatha Freedom Party (IFP) leader Prince Mangosuthu Buthelezi against all odds, to participate in the 1994 democratic elections.
How did this 58 year old economics professor and former diplomat who had worked for the UN, who had been Kenyan president Jomo Kenyatta’s private secretary, who had been a graduate of Cambridge and Harvard universities—where he studied African economies and politics with a focus on apartheid, who was a junior member of an international mediation team, earn this distinction?
The answer, it seems, or part thereof, is traceable to his academic background, his professional experience, the fact that he had known Buthelezi for 20 years, and also knew Mandela whom he met in London in 1962. Another factor appears to have been an extremely fortuitous meeting with Buthelezi at the Johannesburg airport—following his plane developing mechanical problems—which Okumu later attributed to “an act of God” (emphasis added).
Setting the scene
Before I go further, let me clarify three issues:
One, I never met this man, though I read about his contribution in the period leading up to the 1994 election from a one or two British-published books that I read in the early or mid-2000’s. I distinctly recall the term “ebullient” and “larger than life” being used to describe him. But other than that, not much information about him appears to be in the public domain. I consider it a shame that the mainstream academic community (historians and political scientists) has overlooked specific contribution. It is also a shame that the Kenyan media also hasn’t said much about him (to the best of my knowledge, at least).
Two, I highlight Okumu’s story for one simple reason. Since coming to University of Zululand, I have gradually come to the realisation that South Africa, like many other African countries, is facing a moral crisis. Practically daily, we hear about politicians’ shortcomings, administrative failings, and a generally gloomy political outlook. Like many, I despair about the possible solutions, and whether, ‘ordinary’ people are actually capable of making a differece. Actually its a good thing that I frequently spend much time time near the home of Nobel Prize winner, Chief Albert Luthuli (actually it is now a museum, with a distinctive red roof clearly visible where where I am writing this blog), where I am come across several books about his political career, family life, and religious beliefs. I have gradually come to realise that during those times we have so much doubt about our body politic, merit is found in studying the lives of leader past and present, and teasing out timeless lessons, as it were, that apply to our contemporary setting.
Third is the fact that I see this as part-penance. Despite having recently published my book Business Ethics and Values: A Kenyan Perspective, earlier this year, my research interests have shifted elsewhere –specifically international environmental law and policy, as well as international trade law—I have neglected to update my blog postings for much of 2016. So coming across Chris Barron’s obituary served as a welcome wake-up call, that maybe I should take some time off to pen my thoughts. The following background, accordingly, Barron, while the lessons-learnt are my own, and draw broadly upon observations and reflections made during my hiatus.
Background
The background to this compelling headline is traceable to the turbulent politics in the period leading up to the historic elections. On one hand the IFP leader was holding out for a federal form of government in the new SA, in which regions like Kwa Zulu Natal (where I presently live) would be self-governing. On the hand, there was a great deal of political violence—with allegations being made that the South African apartheid government had been supplying arms to the IFP, whose supporters were also participating in acts of violence. They were also dying, however: on 28 March 1994 thousands of IFP supporters armed with spears, pangas and knobkerries (rungu’s) marched through down-town Johannesburg. At some point, violence broke out, and 53 IFP supporters were killed.
At the time Nelson Mandela had requested the help of international mediators led by the former US Secretary of State, Henry Kissinger, and former British Foreign Secretary, Lord Carrington. They arrived in the country two weeks before the historic 1994 elections. Unfortunately their mediation was not successful. The African National Congress (ANC) and IFP were unable to agree on the terms of reference. It also seems that the left wing of the ANC, led by Joe Slovo and Mac Maharaj, didn’t want Buthelezi to participate in the elections. They believed that his boycott of the election would provide an opportunity to crush him once and for all. Meanwhile, constitutional discussions which Buthelezi had walked out of, provided for a unitary government with limited devolution of power to the regions. Buthelezi was not prepared to compromise, and there were indications that IFP had the means to resort to guerilla war. The situation looked dire. The mediators despaired and left the country.
Well, not Okumu.
Although he boarded a plane back to Nairobi, it developed mechanical problems, and was forced to return to Johannesburg where he met Buthelezi, who was on his way back to Kwa Zulu Natal. He talked Buthelezi into returning to the negotiation venue. “I told Buthelezi to think of the bigger picture and how history would treat him harshly if South Africa exploded into a slaughterhouse because of his intransigence”. At the time, the Rwandan genocide was into its second week, and Okumu told Buthelezi that it would “look like a picnic in comparison to a failed South Africa”.
After four days of frantic shuttling between FW de Klerk, Mandela and Buthelezi, using a private plane provided by the US, Okumu hammered out an agreement which the three leaders signed on 19 April 1994, one week before the elections began. According to the agreement, the status of Zulu King Goodwill Zwelithini would be enshrined in the constitution, and Buthelezi would reject violence and participate in the election. Buthelezi said that the IFP had decided to make compromises “in order to avoid a great deal more bloodshed and carnage”.
Three lessons I’ve learned
The first lesson is best summed up in the question, “do we view our experiences in our life journey –professional experience, academic training, and social networks—as preparations for our destiny?” Personally, I don’t think that Okumu alone “saved SA from war”. Chris Barron’s obituary title is likely to slightly misleading, as it is the IFP’s decision that changed the outcome of the elections. Also, having met Buthelezi (at Grouville UCSA church in Kwa Dukuza, KZN in early 2016), I believe him to be an intelligent man, with a heart for public service. I’d trust him to do the right thing. My take is that we must inculcate a greater alignment between our self-identity as professionals, our personal sense of ethics, and broader sense of social purpose. As Okumu’s amazing story tells us, preparation precedes the outcome. I don’t see how he could have achieved what he did, if it weren’t first for the years of academic and professional preparation, during which time he met both Mandela and Buthelezi.
Second, is the importance of divine purpose. Okumu’s remarkable story tells us that despite his vast academic knowledge, professional background and social networks, he was only a junior member of the international mediation team. I doubt the formal rules of protocol gave him the authority to directly approach Buthelezi, and discuss substantive matters. But they did give him a necessary element: credibility by virtue of his membership of the international mediation team. It took an act of God to create a situation where, despite having no actual authority, he took advantage of his credibility and personal standing with Buthelezi, to directly approach him on a substantive issue. All it took was a malfunctioning plane, and a coincidental meeting that neither party could have known about, for this outcome to eventuate.
Third, is that some of us may be called to make a difference in ‘foreign’ lands. Maybe our societies don’t want, or need, our help. Being a Kenyan Okumu presumably lacked the ‘right’ to directly access a key South African decision-maker and on a substantive issue involving South African politics. Perhaps our weaknesses are, in fact our strengths. Okumu’s strength lay in the fact that as a non-voter he did not have a vested personal interest in the outcome of the election, save the fact that he didn’t want a Rwandan genocide playing out (and its resulting loss of 1 million Rwandans). That, plus, his unblemished personal CV that spoke of integrity and excellence, not to mention a shared history of interaction with Buthelezi, served as all the strength he needed for his remarkable achievement. As a side note, I must also acknowledge the material assistance provided by the US government. Without their plane, it is unlikely that the four days of shuttle-diplomacy which resulted in the 19 April 1994 agreement could have ever happened. (The Americans really did fly in to the rescue, didn’t they?)
Summing up
I end by saying this. Okumu is my Kenyan ‘shujaa’ (Kiswahili for hero) for several reasons. His actions contributed towards bettering a very dire crisis facing South Africa at the time. Irrespective of the small size of his role, it deserves to be documented, so that others may learn about ‘foreigners’’ often-unacknowledged contribution towards the attainment of an independent South Africa. From a more personal point of view, two other lessons from his story are worth saying loudly and frequently: everything we do matters, and that everything that happens to us counts.
Dr Nicholas Kimani 