I am probably about to violate about 100 copyright laws, but I really wanted to share this article with you. It was printed in today's edition of "The Nation" and was written by Muthi Nhlema, an author based here in Blantyre. With apologies to "The Nation" and Mr. Nhlema, I am going to reproduce the entire article here for you to read. Enjoy.
21 Sept: A call to citizenship
On the surface, Norman seemed an ordinary man; father of three, loving husband, and devout Christian. On the surface, Norman's name raised no eyebrows of recognition nor did his views spark controversy. Norman was your everyday man - one of the common people.
However history will remember Norman Morrison differently. It's what was lurking under the surface that his name is embossed on the world's consciousness. It was a November day in 1965 when Norman's name graduated from the rate race of mediocrity to the annals or notoriety.
On November 2 1965, Norman Morrison stood in the garden of the Pentagon, America's military hub, armed with only a matchbox and a jerry can of petrol. In full view of the Defence Minister, Robert McNamara, Norman drenched himself in petrol, lit a match and did the unthinkable. He burned himself as an act of protest in the hope that he could help stop the Vietnam War.
Years later, McNamara would write, quite candidly, of the profound impact Norman's sacrificial act had on his belief that America could win the Vietnam War. Shortly after Norman's protest, McNamara reversed his war policy and proposed that troop levels in Vietnam be frozen for coordinated withdrawal.
Norman never got to see this. He died from his burns at the age of 31. He was my age.
There were many who did protest, defiantly facing the fervency of police brutality that seemed to bay for blood, but it took one man to get the message across to a government that had stopped listening. Sadly, it sometimes takes that much to get the attention of the social-elite in the corridors of power. Sometimes, that is the price, we, as citizens, must pay to be heard.
Come to think of it, that's citizenship, isn't it? It isn't just by having been born into the wonderfully strange country of ours then you're a citizen. It is less about nationality and more about being vigilant at responsibly questioning one's government. When people become indifferent to that responsibility, then they are no longer citizens - they are merely subjects and the government is their God, King, and Master.
Slowly, I am realising that we, as people, are more subjects than citizens.
More and more, when I listen to the whispers of my countrymen, all I hear is paranoid fear - a fear of speaking one's mind.
Fear has enveloped our once-colorful flow of conversation in an air of suspicion of a seemingly omnipresent government that is becoming our Big Brother with eyes and ears everywhere. Where we once had the right to object freely, think freely and speak freely about our government, we now only have a blanket of fear coercing us into a silence that is often mistaken for respect towards and omniscient government. We have become a scared bunch afraid of the very thing that is supposed to protect us - our government!
Well, truth be told, if you are looking to blame someone, you need only look into a mirror!
Instead of vigilance in speaking of the wrongs of our government, we chose the tranquility of ignorance with the rationale of "playing it safe." Instead of constructively advocating for government accountability, we were passive - enjoying our cosy lives while activists were being ridiculed and we used to say "that's just not my problem."
Under the surface, we knew something was going wrong with this country and yet, on the surface, we joined the bandwagon of parroting subjects and we comforted ourselves with that truly Malawian thought 'Bola moyo.' How did we allow ourselves to be governed by fear?
It is we who made this government more powerful by not being active citizens. It is we that made ourselves subjects of the state. It is we who manufactured our own fear by not taking action. But we can change that today.
On the surface, we are no different from Norman Morrison. We are simple people living simple lives. But, at times, we must stand for something greater than simplicity's pursuit. In this case, that greater something is freedom - freedom from fear. People shouldn't fear their government; government must fear its people!
Our government used to listen to us - today I hope we can again. However, I hope we don't have to lose more lives, like on July 20, to make that happen.
