The protests against illegal mining in Ghana are revealing how the country’s political class still fears an engaged citizenry.
Police barricade during Occupy Julorbi House protest via Wikimedia Commons CC BY-SA 3.0
In Martin Scorsese’s film The Departed, there’s a scene in which a police recruit is asked, “Do you want to be a cop, or do you want to appear to be a cop?”
At the start of September, several notable organizations in Ghana joined calls for decisive action against illegal gold mining, which has contributed to heartbreaking ecocide in some of Ghana’s resource-rich areas.
Groups not heard from in years crawled out of crevices to demand that the Nana Akufo-Addo administration, which many believe to be complicit, finally show commitment to protecting Ghana’s rivers from poisoning by illegal gold mining. A local broadcaster even hosted a six-hour marathon, during which some of these groups were granted airtime to voice their calls.
They care, right? Or do they merely appear to care?
Fast-forward to September 21, the birthday of Ghana’s independence hero and pan-Africanist Kwame Nkrumah. Like last year, a group of mainly young Ghanaians gathered for a three-day protest, hoping to march on the presidency, this time with a call to end illegal mining. Like last year, they were met with human rights violations by law enforcement, who have morphed into the zombies Fela sang about.
Police arrested over 50 people, manhandled some of them, and also denied them access to their lawyers. Among the citizens arrested were children below age 10 (who appear to have been released). Their only crime has been to move beyond calls and dare to challenge the president at the seat of power.
The police action was not surprising. However, the real disappointment has been a dearth of tangible support in the face of the blatant abuses of protestors championing a call the rest of the country appeared to support.
There is a painful dissonance around protest culture in Ghana, which, in normal times, manifests in siloed movements that limit sustainability. In the worst scenarios, the dissonance translates to a desire for respectability in protest, so these movements can be deemed worthy of support from those keeping up appearances.
My biggest disappointment in the wake of the crackdown on anti-illegal mining protestors came from the Media Foundation for West Africa, whose director is on record commending the police for their conduct during the demonstrations. Mind you, the police conduct included roughing up protestors, taking them to undisclosed locations to prevent legal support, and basically starving them. I expected better from the figurehead of a human rights group.
Then there was A Rocha Ghana, one of the more vocal environmental groups in Ghana, which staged a nonconfrontational protest with the same message a day after the crackdown on the protestors. But there was zero solidarity for the detainees from A Rocha. They stood on sidewalks, held up placards, and made more calls for Akufo-Addo to end illegal mining. It was as if the scores of young protestors abducted by the police didn’t exist.
Indeed, it is almost like the autocratic markers of the Akufo-Addo administration do not exist. There is an absence of urgency that makes one wonder whether the few voices in the wilderness demanding accountability are crazy. On the international scene, Ghana’s PR is so strong that many act as if Akufo-Addo isn’t in the same WhatsApp group with Yoweri Museveni.
State capture under Akufo-Addo has robbed citizens of not just revenue and natural resources but also the rule of law. The judiciary seemed more independent when Ghana was under a junta in the ’80s, even prompting the tragic murder of three judges who now stand tall as martyrs of the rule of law in Ghana. Now, as police and the attorney general’s office violate basic tenets of the rule of law, shielding a cancerous executive, the judiciary does nothing.
The rot wears down everyone in Ghana. For the vast majority, it has manifested in the ongoing generational economic crisis. Many of us are just as concerned by the generational environmental crisis that could see Ghana importing drinking water within a decade.
The cartel of a political class pillaging the people won’t vanish if we vote out the current political party, as Ghanaians are wont to do. We’ve always conflated elections with accountability, kicking politicians out of office with the billions they looted so they can bide their time until we get tired of the government we replaced them with. Sustained acts of protest seem to be the last resort to ensure accountable governance.
Ghanaians can no longer settle for appearing to care. Moral fortitude must replace respectability so we can meaningfully challenge the political class. I bet Akufo-Addo shudders at the thought of a stagnant pool of red in front of his office, calling him a thief and a murderer of the environment. It’s why police turn rabid, and courts mete out draconian rulings to discourage further daring acts of protest.
We are at a crisis point, and we need to have difficult conversations and step on the toes of people and institutions that have shown nothing but contempt for citizens. Once we shed respectability in protest, we can catalyze a citizenry crying out for a beacon and inspiration.
Merely appearing to be protestors and good citizens has cost Ghana dearly over the last 30 years. Our democracy is a sham. But there’s enough evidence to show that the political class still fears an engaged citizenry. We just need a final push to make sure we shed the appearance of democracy for actual democracy.
