Tag: Winston Churchill

  • World Red Cross day

    World Red Cross day

    I sat on a sofa in my living room trying to put words together for my article on world Red Cross day but my very busy mind kept failing me. I eventually found consolation by chewing on my pen, lost in thoughts that were unrelated to the subject matter before me.

    A few moments after, i heard the news about a family of five who were involved in a fatal accident; they would have all died if not for the timely intervention of the Red Cross. Hearing this alone was enough impetus for me to put pen to paper.

    World Red Cross and Red Crescent day is an annual celebration of the principles of the international Red Cross movement. It is celebrated on May 8 each year which is a date that tallies with the anniversary of the birth of Henry Dunant (born May 8, 1828), the founder of the international committee of the Red Cross (ICRC) and the recipient of the first Nobel peace prize. The theme for this year’s celebration is “Less Known Red Cross Stories”.

    According to history, it is believed that the idea for an annual action that could take hold in the whole world and would be a major contribution to peace was introduced just after the world war 1 and evolved out of the “Red Cross truce”, an initiative that was studied by an international commission established at the 14th international conference in Tokyo in 1934. Two years later, the proposal was adopted and the Red Cross day was celebrated on May 8, 1948. The official title of the day has changed overtime and it became “world Red Cross and Red Crescent day” in 1984.

    It is a day celebrated to alleviate people’s suffering, enhance their dignity, protect their lives from emergencies and other natural disasters including epidemic diseases, flood and earthquakes. It is celebrated by all sections of the Red Cross organizations to help people by keeping at heart all its fundamental principles which are humanity, independence, impartiality, neutrality, universality, voluntary and unity.

    However, Winston Churchill once said that “we make a living by what we get but we make a life by what we give”. So, let’s set it aside, any thoughts that only Red Cross can save lives because it is also in our capability to do so if we will. Therefore, let that change of heart begin with you.

    In conclusion, Red Cross is of the belief that the purpose of life is not to be happy at times but to be useful, honourable, compassionate and to make some difference to show that you have lived and lived well; like a saying goes, ‘we all have two hands; one is to help yourself and the other is to help others’. So, wouldn’t you agree with me that these life-savers should really be celebrated?

  • On the Bust of Winston Churchill

    On the Bust of Winston Churchill

    (The crisis of colonial consciousness in Nigeria)

    The bust of Winston Churchill has been in a heavy traffic in the White House of late. George W Bush, the son of George Herbert Walker Bush, a distant cousin of the reigning queen of England, installed the finely sculpted figurine head of the greatest Englishman of the last century on his desk in the Oval Office. It was perhaps to serve as an iconic talisman in times of martial stress and a minatory reminder that people should not “misunderestimate” George Bush—as he himself infamously put things.
    Warrior, statesman, political gladiator and literary genius, nobody could accuse Churchill of ducking out of any hostility or confrontation particularly when it had to do with perceived insult or contumely to Her Majesty’s Empire. Churchill saw action in Sudan in the great reckoning at Omdurman against the Mahdi and the killers of General Charles Gordon aka “Chinese Gordon.”
    He went on to fight against the Boers in South Africa and was a commissioned Colonel in Gallipoli during the First World War before finally routing Adolf Hitler— or Corporal Schicklgruber as he preferred to call Hitler, thus reminding the crazed Aryan supremacist of his lowly origins as a non-commissioned officer in the bottom rung of the Austrian army.
    Barack Obama, the son of an African immigrant, removed the bust of Winston Churchill from the Oval Office and kept it in a cupboard for the remaindered. Obama, the son of an African immigrant, was not a gung-ho war-monger. Obama had a cool dispassionate disdain for the rampart militarism which has brought so much grief to America and destruction to many parts of the world. When all has been said, the fact remains that America was not founded as a warrior nation but as a lodestar of rationalism and enlightenment to other societies.
    But now the bust is back—literally and perhaps figuratively. America has gone bust again. Donald Trump has restored the bust of Winston Churchill to the Oval office and to its rightful position. Perhaps Obama was just a delirious aberration, a troublous cipher or nasty glitch in the system. Parity and order have now been restored with the installation in the White House of a man who does not take hostage, a happy warrior who hits first before asking question. With the Don, you always know where you stand and where you are likely to fall.
    But the truth and reality may be more nuanced than this blunderbuss analysis. There is a meeting of mind and the grinding conformity of American institutions that spares no one among these presidential exemplars, no matter the temperamental differences and dissimilarities of global outlook. Unlike Bush who is an internationalist cold warrior and like Obama, Trump has said that he would put America first.
    But anybody who believes that this is a Trumpian retreat into the splendid pacificism of the Obama years will have to have a rethink. Like Bush and unlike Obama, Trump will not hesitate to commit American troops and military supremacy abroad whenever he thinks that American power and prestige have suffered an infraction particularly from the Islamic world. He had already ordered his military blue chips to come up with a war plan to contain and neutralize the ISIL threat.
    Yet the irony of it all was that it was under the supposedly pacificist Obama that Osama Bin Laden was taken down in a bold and brilliant military operation which left the entire world awed and speechless. No matter what, the institutional iron grid of America will not allow any president to stray too far afield in idiosyncratic delusion before its timeless disincentives kick in.
    This, however, will not be the first time the bust of Winston Churchill will be causing trouble. Wole Soyinka, the Nigerian Nobel laureate, famously remarked that it was an encounter with another bust of the celebrated British Prime Minister that roused his literary muse to pen his classic, Nobel-winning play: Death and the King’s Horseman. Great literature often shadows great historical events. Soyinka and Churchill also share another thing in common. They are both Nobel laureates in Literature. But that is a story for another day.
    Surfeit with great lyricism and rousing poetry, the play zeroes in on a moment of acute historical paralysis for the embattled Oyo Empire of the Yoruba race with its territorial space already subjugated by the colonial conquerors and the ancestral sacredness of its royal domain infiltrated by the totems and tawdry tropes of metropolitan power. Consequently, what played out was an unequal contest; a clash of culture and civilization whose outcome had already been decided on the battlefield. Consciously or otherwise, Soyinka found himself working out the terms of surrender.
    Yet despite this unequal exchange of cultural commodities, and in fact because of it, Soyinka was able to expose the intellectual arrogance and cultural chauvinism of the colonial conquerors who despite the hard evidence of ancestral savagery believed that other people are not entitled to their unique way of apprehending reality and making sense of history. Like Chinua Achebe’s Things Fall Apart, this was a stirring work of cultural nationalism and historical self-validation.
    But intellectual assaults often precede and sometimes go side by side with physical conquest and formal subjugation. Long before the European colonization of the continent, many European writers, historians, philosophers, sociologists and sundry commentators on the right and left wings of the ideological spectrum tended to dismiss the continent as a historical void teeming with savages and cannibals. George Lukacs, the great Hungarian Marxist philosopher, noted that pre-colonial Africa was like a column of ants heading in the wrong direction which had to be forcibly re-routed in the interest of humanity.
    Almost five hundred years after this forcible re-routing, Africa has still not fully re-joined the mainstream of humanity. Its political, economic, intellectual and spiritual institutions are still in a shambles, resembling miscegenated hybrids that are neither wholly African nor fully westernized. Indeed it may be no exaggeration to claim that the current crisis of the state and the nation in many parts of Africa stem from unresolved conflicts arising from colonial trauma.
    To be sure, Africa was already in crisis before the colonial conquest. While its traditional institutions remained mired in stasis and superstitions, the rest of the world was gradually pulling away towards modernity. It can be argued that the colonial conquest deprived Africa of an original and indigenous solution to the crisis. If left alone, Africa would have fumbled and figured its way to some version of modernity.
    Yet the failure may also be a pointer to the fact that the traditional institutions were too weak and stalled to evolve on their own. History has never been a race in which the strong wait on —or wait for— the weak. Having been decimated by the colonial incursion, traditional African institutions can no longer act in political or economic concert with the African society.
    Yet in many parts of Africa grafting western organs on the native body politic has proved a signal failure, a case of organ rejection by a hostile recipient. The result is an identity crisis manifesting in several theatres of human endeavour, particularly in the political, economic and spiritual departments.
    In many parts of Africa, this crisis is so severe that it has made it impossible for the nation to chart a new political course or come up with a rigorously worked out economic policy which will reduce the misery of the people even as it has proved impossible to forge a new spiritual identity to rescue the populace from shamans and charlatans that feed on their religious insecurities.
    In Nigeria, this crisis often manifests in the most unexpected ways. In the south it has led to anti-social deviancy as seen in the phenomenon of kidnapping, ritual killing and economic sabotage. In the north of the nation, the crisis has eventuated in the Boko Haram tragedy with thousands dead and the entire landscape devastated as a result of a purported rejection of western intellectual tradition by a vicious sect which mutated from a local militia funded by rogue politicians.
    This violent antipathy to everything western which is automatically framed as anti-Islam often finds conducive soil in the ancestral hostility of the northern elite themselves to any form of modernization. Yet they have to cohabit in the same nation-space with a more western-friendly south with a fully developed syncretic culture which allows them to incorporate and domesticate extraneous matter without much damage to the integrity of their social fabric.
    The question that should now be asked is why despite formal conquest and brief colonization, countries such as India, China, Japan and Indonesia never seem to suffer the colonial trauma, the economic, spiritual and intellectual disorientation that seem to be the lot of African countries. The answer is that despite the loss of physical liberty, these people and nations never surrendered the essential cultural initiative to the totalizing logic of the colonial invaders. They retained their language, their names, their cultural tradition and the religions which are the basis of their spiritual conditioning and wellbeing.
    Having surrendered the cultural and intellectual initiatives to the antagonistic logic of the conquering imperialists, Africa has been in a state of traumatic transition ever since without the prospects of full westernization or the possibility of returning to the pre-colonial age.
    In order to negotiate this existential quandary, African political elites take refuge in what we propose as the post-colonial Unconscious, a deliberate regression into a child-like world of make-belief and delusion in which hybrid institutions which cannot pass muster appear natural, timeless and divinely ordained. The post-colonial Unconscious is a factory for the production of alternative reality. For example, it doesn’t occur to them that the two religions that have caused so much havoc and destruction on the continent are not even indigenous to the people.
    Only a programme of aggressive modernization can rescue the continent. The future is full of opportunities and possibilities for those who dare to confront it with futuristic weapons. This will involve nothing less than a drastic overhauling of our current economic, political, intellectual and spiritual categories. This major re-engineering cannot be carried out under the current structure of Nigeria. If we do not come to this reality soonest, the reality will come to us sooner.

  • Aregbesola’s finest hour

    Aregbesola’s finest hour

    In the heat of the global human carnage that was the Second World War, Britain’s famed politician and war-time leader, Winston Churchill, gave a famous speech on the floor of the House of Commons to update the House on the progress of the war. He addressed many themes and then rounded off on the pungent rallying note to his compatriots: ‘Let us therefore brace ourselves to our duties, and so bear ourselves that, if the British Empire and its Commonwealth last for a thousand years, men will still say, “This was their finest hour.”’

    And on this very note, Churchill gave a significant new insight into the affairs of humankind. He facilitated our capacity to see that every human being, irrespective of his stations in life, must have some moments in his existence that can truly be adjudged to be ‘his finest hour’. The only difference is that, more often than not, famous men and women enjoy the privilege of public inquest and assessment into their lives such that it is they alone who are most frequently thought to have such moments in their lives.

    But the truth is that such moments of indisputably outstanding performance in whatever one does is far from being the exclusive preserve of the famous and the celebrated of human species. Rather, even the most lowly placed and unassuming do have such moments in their lives. The crucial distinction is the fact that such moments in the lives of the ordinary man are unknown to the public and are therefore left unsung.

    But then it is one of those uncanny sociological realities of human life that we cannot all have the same share of limelight and public glory. It does not mean that many of us do not have achievements in our little lives that are worthy of celebration; it is just that most of us will have such achievements unnoticed and uncelebrated. But this would not also detract from the truth that the famous and the celebrated do have achievements to their credit that are worthy of laudation.  And so it is with the Governor of Osun State, Ogbeni Rauf Aregbesola –a man whose character qualities have earned him a deserved place in the sun.

    At a distance, he is most likely to give you an impression of a non-personable individual and one of those typical ilk of Nigerian politicians. But a close contact with him would reveal a man of strong character and amiability. One who knows exactly what he wants and goes for it. He aims high and matches those high aims with steely determination and doggedness. He is an engaging speaker whose high intellect contrasts sharply with what you tend to see from afar. He is a man of deep conviction who stubbornly clings to his beliefs.

    Perhaps this explains why he has the capacity to attract opposite emotions in equal measure of intensity. Those who love him are unflinchingly loyal. Those who don’t are die-hard opponents. But in fairness to the man, and contrary to what one might be tempted to deduce from his political activist posture, he is someone with genuinely accommodating spirit. He engages with the people across all social strata right from the political ‘tree top’ to the grassroots.

    All of these have come into play in his political career in recent years. His rise to the governorship seat occurred in extraordinary circumstances that were filled with mortal dangers and high-wire political intrigues. It took over three years of resolute and relentless battle through the courts to prove his victory at the 2011 polls. His re-election for a second term of office on Saturday August 9 happened in no less intriguing political fashion.

    The election was a battle for the soul of Osun and by extension that of Nigeria in its present political configuration. In a significant way the Osun governorship election outcome would affect the electoral contest for Aso Rock in 2015 between the two leading political parties in the country, the PDP and the APC. Accordingly, having achieved a largely unforeseen victory at the Ekiti gubernatorial poll barely two months ago, the PDP became emboldened to emasculate the APC in its strongest-hold, the South-west, which would have been achieved with victory in Osun.

    Hence, the PDP-led federal government threw everything at it, including placing Osun under a security lockdown, not to mention the inexplicable and inexcusable arrests of APC party functionaries, along with members of Aregbesola’s cabinet on the night preceding the election. But the people of Osun stood firm. They did not succumb to intimidation and the federal government’s unwarranted show of force. They voted massively for the incumbent to reaffirm his genuine popularity among his people.

    But Aregbesola’s greatest moment was to come the day after the election on Sunday when he rode triumphantly to the Nelson Mandela Freedom Square to address his supporters. Incidentally, he was formally declared the winner by INEC on that Sunday morning after hours of waiting. The announcement was greeted by a spontaneous outburst and tumultuous gathering of mammoth crowds all over Osogbo who then converged on the Olaiya intersection as the governor’s convoy emerged from Okefia Roundabout.

    It was some of the biggest crowd I have yet seen assemble just to welcome only one man. As I watched the man and his crowd inch their way towards Freedom Park at Old Garage, I remembered those memorable words of Churchill. However, as humans, it is in our nature that until we actually cease to breathe, it is difficult to definitively say that we’ve had our most glorious moments. So Aregbesola may yet have greater days of glory ahead of him.

    But this much can be said– that irrespective of what greater glory he may still step into in the days, months and years to come, Aregbesola’s triumphant entry to Freedom Square on Sunday August 10, and his grand reception by an enthusiastically massive crowd, would go down in history as arguably his Finest Hour.

     

     

    • Jimoh is a University of Ibadan graduate student of political science

     

  • Wole Soyinka’s white hairs

    Wole Soyinka’s white hairs

    Winston Churchill once expressed his frustration about Russia in an often quoted statement: ‘It is a riddle wrapped in a mystery inside an enigma.’ It is easy for me to re-contextualise that statement as a linguistic ode to the greatness of Professor Wole Soyinka. On this occasion, I employ that statement as a critical challenge to all Nigerians about our ethical and political duty to unravel the significance of WS before he ceases to be among us.

    I want to call to our minds Prof. Soyinka’s poem humorous ‘To My First White Hairs.’ Written when WS noticed the first three strands of grey hair invading his dark and bushy hair, he was alerted to his own metamorphosis, and the need to forecast the time while we still have the chance.

    THREE WHITE HAIRS! frail invaders of undergrowth interpret time. I view them, wired wisps, vibrant coiled beneath a magnifying glass, milk-thread presages Of the hoary phase.

    Like WS’s three white hairs, we have also arrived at a defining moment when we can no longer ignore what Soyinka portends for the task and responsibility of nation building in Nigeria. Soyinka’s greatness consists especially in embodying the Nigerian Project in his personal and literary evolution as a scholar and social activist. His classic prison memoir, The Man Died, represents one of my initial introductions to the problems with Nigeria. When I first met Kongi 48 years ago, it was at Aáwé when he visited in company of Prof. Ojetunji Aboyade (whose family house adjoined the Olaopa’s). Their visit was usually in the company of Akin Mabogunje, Femi Johnson, Allison Ayida, Michael Omolayole, and so on. I remember vividly the task assigned to me of bringing the inevitable kegs of palm-wine from Oje’s brother.

    WS would later move from these usually seminar cum social fellowship to a larger, more vocal and more critical and literary analysis of the Nigerian predicament. He would, for instance, later bluntly challenge his generation as a wasted one which refused to deploy its social capital as a significant arsenal that confronts Nigeria with the image of its own anomie and how to wriggle out of it.

    Soyinka’s hairs are all white now; a leonine and willowy testament to the wisdom of his struggle to make us better against our own corrupt inclinations. Yet, Nigeria is still struggling (as I earlier gave expression in the article titled Generational Capital in the Nigerian Project) to turn against its own anomic existence. Reissuing his books today, especially The Man Died, has the significance of instructing my own generation against a wastefulness that comes from neglecting our own patriotic duties to Nigeria. Soyinka is still very much with us today, but have we all learned anything from the enigma? Is it not time we institutionalise his memorable insights to national rebirth and regeneration (even if we haven’t done enough to institutionalise the legend himself)?

    The hero of our time, I say Kabiyesi o, Happy Birthday, kalamu ikowe yin a di abere o – may your pen grow and grow in size to become needle.