Language and Power

“Mali is one of those barely governable countries which nobody except its hapless inhabitants much worries about, until disaster suddenly looms, threatening to spread poison beyond its borders.”

Thus begins an article on “France, Mali and Algeria” in a January issue of The Economist. The article goes on to advise France’s President François Hollande to make sure he doesn’t “get stuck” meddling in the affairs of the former French colony, ending with the wisdom:

Provided the south is reasonably safe, Europeans and others should help with economic development and military training. But for the country to have a hope of working properly, Malians must also sort out their chaotic politics. A year ago, soldiers at the head of Mali’s ragged army overthrew an elected government. On paper, civilians are back in charge, but no one is sure who really pulls the strings. Outsiders can clear the way, but in the end it is the Malians who must mend Mali.

My hackles went up with the first line and stayed up throughout the two-thirds of a page about the ongoing conflict in Mali and France’s involvement therein. I have never been to Mali nor have I met a Malian. I do love the music of Amadou & Mariam, but I couldn't tell you a single thing about the country other than the capital is Bamako and about a year ago, the Tuareg tribe in the north seized a large portion of the country away from the government. For all I know, all of Mali’s inhabitants, other than the aforementioned musical couple, are indeed hapless and deserve nothing but pity from the rest of the world. But I doubt it.

Maybe Mali is just “one of those countries,” you know, those barely governable ones. Like all those other ones. You know, the ones we needn't much worry about. At least, so long as the poison stays inside its borders. Until then, let the pitiable Malians sort out their chaotic politics. Us outsiders can just watch from a distance as the ragged army stirs up some problems, but just the kind that concern the hapless inhabitants. I mean, if it starts to spread in a way that might threaten some Europeans and/or others, we will have to get involved, but only until we can hand it off to the Africans, since it’s really their problem, after all.

I am still trying to figure out exactly what it is about how this tiny article was written that makes my blood border on boiling. It’s something about taking the entire country full of people and lumping it in is “one of those barely governable countries,” in such a dismissive way. Similarly, characterizing the entire population as “hapless,” is about as condescending as you can get. And the need to tack on “ragged” when describing the army. I’m sure it isn’t the high-tech war machine that America commands, but that extra adjective sure seems like an unnecessary dig that only serves to support the overall message that Mali is nothing but a dusty, undeveloped sandbox full of backwards people who are better left to their misery unless they can’t keep it within their own borders.

I currently live in a country that went through decades of internal struggle that cost thousands of lives and left its infrastructure (both physical and intellectual) decimated. Much of the educated “European and other” population fled by the end of the fight for independence and because of the colonial education system that excluded most native Mozambicans, the country is still struggling to build an adequate supply of skilled professionals. The roads and transit are still in disarray. The truth is, Mozambique just does not have the resources to clean up the mess that was left after Portuguese occupation and the civil war that followed without the help of “outsiders” who are here to help “clear the way” for Mozambique to run its own affairs. Some in the form of international NGOs, but many others in the form of  multinationals drawn here by immense mineral resources.

So an article like that in The Economist leaves me with many conflicting feelings. First, I can’t help but imagine that 25 year ago, such an article could have been written about my current home, characterizing it as another “one of those” countries. Using the same condescending, dismissive language to describe the people I see everyday. Some of my students and colleagues at school would have been part of that population of “hapless” inhabitants just wandering the chaotic streets trying to stay out of the way of the “ragged” army. But I know those people and they are not pitiable. They have been through a lot, but they are real people deserving of respect. My guess is, Malians deserve more respect, too.

Beyond that, I just don’t know how to feel about the advice the article gives. Sure, I agree that Mali and all other former colonies should have the right to decide their own futures. I think that it is crucial to let these populations rule themselves without Europeans (or Americans or Asians, for that matter) deciding who should run the countries or how they should be run. But something about the way it is presented feel less like advising France to leave Mali to be the decider of its own destiny - because it is a proud nation full of people who deserve independence - and more like The Economist feels that France ought to take a nice long-handled broom and sweep the “poison” back within Mali’s borders without getting any of the contamination on its own hands. Then France should hightail it out of there and let the Malians go back to whatever it is they were doing before the disaster started looming, while the rest of the world was busy not much worrying about it.

And the truth is, when the Europeans hightailed it out of Mozambique, sometimes destroying crucial equipment or infrastructure as they ran, they left a nation hungry to be the driver of its own destiny, but without the resources it needed to do so. Now, there are South African, Chinese, Brazilian, European and other companies moving in with offers to construct roads, ports, and railways in exchange for mineral rights. There are KFC franchises in Maputo. Many of the shop owners here in Chimoio are Chinese, Indian, Middle Eastern or from other African nations. The “Europeans and others” are very present here, but many in roles that are looking to make money without a clear commitment to the betterment of the country.

So, is a country in dire need of infrastructure and educational investment really free to decide its own destiny just because the rich nations decide to stay politically disengaged? Not to say in any way that “Western intervention” is a good thing, just that an article like this makes me wonder about the intention of a policy or political decision versus its real-life consequences. Going into an “underdeveloped” country and telling the government what to do is just as condescending and disrespectful as dismissing the country as pitiable and not worth much worry. But the line between helping and meddling isn't always clear, and neither is the “optimal” level of support to offer a developing country. Where does aid end and subsidizing a broken system begin? If the system is broken, is best just to walk away?

But discussing any of these issues seems worthless if the people coming from positions of power, the ones who have the ability to invest in and support developing countries, use the kind of language that was used in this article. It seems to me to reflect a belief that Mali is not worthy of the diplomatic niceties of respectful speech, or even being clearly distinguished as a specific country, different from others also experiencing conflict. If this is the starting point, how can we in the “developed world” be trusted to take any action that is in such a country’s best interest? Maybe I am overreacting, parsing language down to its finest details is one of my greatest joys, but I do feel strongly that the words we choose reflect our values, and these words do not represent how I want the West to be perceived by the rest of the world.