West Africa Review (2000)

ISSN: 1525-4488

THE CLINTON CONTROVERSIES AND THE AFRICAN (IGBO) WORLD

Obioma Nnaemeka

"There is not one civilization, from the oldest to the very newest, from which we cannot learn." - Eleanor Roosevelt.
"A civilization flourishes when people plant trees under whose shade they will never sit." - (Greek proverb, cited in It Takes a Village, p. 316)

Of Course, It Takes A Village!

For many of us watching from the sidelines through different cultural lens, the controversies surrounding the Clintons raise crucial cultural and epistemological questions that go beyond the first family. Our "uninvited" participation often brings us face to face with the reality and an appreciation of our origins. Sometimes, in the self-generating "Clintonian" controversies, other cultures and other places (for example, Africa - specifically, Igboland in Nigeria) are simultaneously evoked and silenced. The controversy over Hillary Rodham Clinton's book, It Takes A Village, took root at the 1996 Republican Convention when the republican presidential candidate, Robert Dole, dismissed disparagingly the title of the book: "It does not take a village to raise a child; it takes a family."1 Such a critique can only emanate from limited or no knowledge of the environment that gave birth to the proverb - "It takes a village to raise a child" - and the book which takes the African proverb for its title.

The idea of "it takes a village to raise a child" permeates African cultures although it speaks different languages across the continent. In Igboland where the proverb assumes great significance in locating the child at the center of communal life (ofu onye adiro azu nwa - one person does not raise a child), the idea of "single parent' is oxymoronic. The notion of "single parenthood" is incongruous in an environment where parents are never in short supply and children enjoy the benefits of multiple and collective parenting. In Igboland, a popular name for males, Nwora (child of the community), and a popular name for girls, Adaora (daughter of the community),2 stress not only the centrality of the child in a particular nuclear family but also the centrality, valorization, and affirmation of the child in the entire community. Such an expansive notion of family and family responsibility does not advocate the abandonment of parental responsibility by biological parents. Rather, it stresses that a combination of parental (biological) and communal responsibility ensures the survival of the child. It ensures that a child is cared for at all times by mandating that nonbiological parents treat each child as if he/she were their own. In an environment that is governed by the spirit and letter of the proverb, the concern for the well being of children is not crisis driven. In such an environment, the caring spirit and watchful eyes of adults do not slumber only to be awakened and spurred to action after preventable tragedies had befallen children (as was the case in the Columbine school killings and similar tragedies). As the Igbo wisely say, okenye adiro ano nuno ewu anwuo nogbuli - an adult must not stand-by and watch a goat die at the tether).

Hillary Clinton's book interrogates certain notions such as "stranger," "family," by arguing for a more profound and expansive reading of such notions. Shortly after the 1996 Republican Convention, the Democrats held their convention in Chicago where Christopher Reeve gave a new and more humane reading of the much-touted "family values." According to Reeve, "we are all family and each one has value." Reeve's more imaginative and appealing reading of family values recasts and reaffirms the title of Clinton's book, It Takes a Village. Like Clinton, Christopher Reeve sees the family as including but not limited to the nuclear family. Both Clinton's book and Christopher Reeve's speech argue for the care of the child in the context of a wider notion of family. As Clinton aptly notes, "the horizon of the contemporary village extends well beyond the townline." More importantly, she does not have illusions about the past ("the good old days") and the present and remains optimistic about a future that will be nourished by the lessons of the past and the possibilities of the present: "And by sifting the past for clues to the structures that once bound us together, by looking with an open mind at what other countries and cultures do for their children that we do not, and by identifying places where our "village" is flourishing - in families, schools, churches, businesses, civic organizations, even in cyberspace - we can begin to create for our children the better tomorrow they deserve" (It Takes A Village, dust jacket).

Clinton's book, It Takes A Village, is pertinent to the issue of knowledge claim that I wish to address here. Clinton's intelligent, thoughtfully written and well articulated book is both personal and public, individual and collective, national and international as she weaves personal experiences with her experiences in the public arena as a child advocate. Above all, what seeps through is her humanity - a truly warm and caring human being whose acute sense of humor (the coconut incident, for example) is matched only by the power of her superior intelligence and her humility with knowledge claims (a gift that is rare in the West). She acknowledges and stresses the importance of what she has learned from other places (especially places and peoples that the West preaches to and never learns from) and by implication urges others, particularly those from the West, to be receptive and open to education from other places and cultures. It is only ethnocentric, imperial arrogance that closes the door to this vital education. Sometimes, the solution to our immediate problems lies beyond our borders.

According to Clinton, "some lessons come from countries I have had the opportunity to visit. The sight of baby carriages left unattended outside stores on the streets of Copenhagen said more to me about the safety of Danish babies than any research study could, and it made me long to know what the Danes and other cultures might teach us. As Eleanor Roosevelt said, 'There is not one civilization, from the oldest to the very newest, from which we cannot learn'" (18). The babies are not strictly-speaking "unattended" in an environment where the concept of "it takes a village to raise a child" prevails. Passers- by are not "strangers" who can do "strange" things to the babies; they are part of the village that cares for and sustains the babies. Coincidentally, few months after the publication of Clinton's book, a Danish couple who were vacationing in New York City had their baby taken away and briefly placed in foster care because they "abandoned" him in his stroller in front of the restaurant where they were having lunch!

Notions of "stranger" differ from place to place. The African proverb, "it takes a village to raise a child," makes family members of "strangers" (nwanne di na mba - brothers/sisters abound in foreign lands) - an idea that is powerfully evoked in Toni Morrison's first novel, The Bluest Eye. Morrison's novel begins with an interesting story (repeated three times in two pages) that is instructive and pertinent. It is the story of Jane and her family. Jane lives in a beautiful green-and-white house3 with her father ("big and strong"), her mother ("very nice"), her brother, Dick, and the family dog. The problem is that well-dressed Jane wants to play but finds no one in her nuclear family (the dog included) who wants to play with her. Jane gets to play only when an outsider chances by and accepts to play with her. Morrison's novel disrupts held notions about family member (insider) and stranger (outsider) by exposing the stranger within and underscoring the family without.

As the uproar over It Takes A Village peaked, the Whitewater investigation gathered momentum as it careened and exploded into l'affaire Clinton/Lewinsky. Again, some of us on the sideline looking through a different cultural prism saw beyond the "sex scandal" and the "zipper problem"4 as we come face to face with the reality and an appreciation of our origins. From a cultural (Igbo) perspective, l'affaire Clinton/Lewinsky raises three crucial issues for me: (1) the relationship between power and speech, (2) Western feminist illusions, and (3) excess.

Power and Speech

In Igboland, the word is sacred and its preservation is empowering. An Igbo proverb is pertinent and instructive in this regard - onu adiro ekwusi ife anya fulu/the mouth does not say everything the eye sees. In the circus that l'affaire Clinton/Lewinsky has turned into, not only did the mouth speak all that the eye saw, it also spoke what the eye did not see! In Igboland, such a desecration of the word is aberrant and unacceptable. The Igbo believe that when someone confides in you, your power over him/her derives not from divulging the secrets but in keeping them. As it were, there is a piece of the "owner of secrets" in the secrets themselves (the "physicality" of the word is evident in another Igbo proverb that censures those who are imprudent with their utterances - odiro ata okwu eze/(s)he does not chew his/her words). To keep secrets is to have control over the "owner," to divulge them is to liberate the owner.

From an Igbo perspective, power derives from the ability to preserve and respect the word, not from the readiness to divulge and desecrate it. Thus in such thinking, Linda Tripp's power over Monica Lewinsky would lie in her ability to keep the secrets that Monica confided in her. In America (the West) the reverse is the case - power lies in the revelation. It is "powerful" to know and divulge, and it is even more powerful to be the first to do so. Tripp's revelation of Monica's secrets confers on her (Tripp) the power of the first to divulge. The race amongst the media houses to be the first to break the news is also a race for power - high ratings that translate into economic power. What is at issue in all this? Few moments of fame (notoriety) and money, money, money (TV ratings, book deals, talk show circuit, newspaper and television interviews, etc.).

As stories of President Clinton's philandering unfolded, so did tales of Prince Charles's infidelity feed the media frenzy on the other side of the Atlantic. The difference between Charles's infidelity and Clinton's indiscretion lies in the manner they are discussed and/or undiscussed. What makes one cringe is the total lack of restraint and decorum in saturating the airwaves and cyberspace with sordid details of Clinton's indiscretion. Diana admitted on national television that she had an affair without dwelling on the details (a far cry from the public statements by Gennifer Flowers, Paula Jones, etc.). Camilla is not talking. As far as this matter goes, there is not much attempt on this side of the Atlantic to "chew one's words."

For me, events such as the Clinton/Lewinsky saga shed new light on studies of the relationship between knowledge and power in poststructuralist scholarship. Knowledge is power, it assert, but the major idea that subtends the assertion is that to be truly powerful, knowledge must show and tell5 itself. This reminds me of my experience in a dentist's office few months ago. As the dentist explained to me the procedure for root canal work, I listened quietly to his explanation which I understood very well. A few minutes into his explanation, he pulled out a piece of paper and a pencil from his drawer and said to me: "let me make a sketch of it so you can understand." I did not take his assumptions and "carrying on" too well. Right there, he lost a client because that my first visit became the last. This clash of cultural perspectives on knowledge is revealing. Because I did not show and tell that I understood/knew, the dentist assumed that I did not know (he did not even ask me if I understood or not) and proceeded to draw whatever he thought he was explaining to me. The dentist's foolishness is understandable in a culture that collapses silence/speechlessness and stupidity/ignorance into one word - dumb (literally and metaphorically speaking). From my (Igbo) cultural perspective, I assume that a silent listener understands what I am saying and will speak up (ask questions) if he/she does not understand and needs explanations or further elaboration.

In Igboland, knowledge does not necessarily have to show and tell itself in order to assert its presence and power (silence is not only golden, it can be powerful). The Igbo are very much aware of the relationship among knowledge (secrets), silence, and power. In Chinua Achebe's novel about Igboland, Things Fall Apart, an old townsman, Uchendu, was greatly disturbed when he heard that the men of the village of Abame killed a white man who said nothing: "Never kill a man who says nothing. Those men of Abame were fools" (129). To illustrate his point, he reminded his listeners of the story of Mother Kite in Igbo lore: "Mother Kite once sent her daughter to bring food. She went, and brought back a duckling. `You have done very well,' said Mother Kite to her daughter, but tell me, what did the mother of the duckling say when you swooped and carried its child away?' `It said nothing,' replied the young kite. `It just walked away.' `You must return the duckling,' said Mother Kite. `There is something ominous behind the silence.' And so daughter Kite returned the duckling and took a chick instead. `What did the mother of this chick do?' asked the old kite. `It cried and raved and cursed me,' said the young kite. `Then we can eat the chick, said her mother. There is nothing to fear from someone who shouts'" (129-30). Uchendu's ominous foreboding came to pass. On a busy market day, some white men and their followers descended on the big market in Abame and killed everybody "except the old and the sick who were at home and a handful of men and women whose chi were awake and brought them out of that market" (129).

Feminist Illusions

Polygyny is one African institution that has been clobbered in Western feminist discourses. Often, in one imperialistic gesture, Western feminists rebuke African men (polygynists) for their male chauvinism and pity "helpless" African women for "sharing" their men.6 The truth of the matter is that from the pulpit (Jimmy Swaggart, etc.) to the Oval Office (J. F. Kennedy, W. J. Clinton, etc.) and the critical mass in-between, there is enough "man sharing" to go around. Donna Rice (of Monkey Business "fame"), Camilla Parker-Bowles, Gennifer Flowers, and Monica Lewinsky are no momentary flukes ("bimbo eruptions"). Rather, they are marks of a more pervasive and permanent phenomenon that transcends ethnic, geographic, and cultural boundaries. Beautiful, intelligent, loving wives are no antidote to roving eyes! Clarence Thomas was let off the hook because none of the senators at the Thomas/Hill hearing dared to cast the first stone.

It is interesting to note that the same Western feminists who live the illusion of monogamy spring forth in defense of errant spouses (standing by their men à la Tammy Wynette) when they are caught. The rapidity with which the errant episodes punctuate the illusion should lead one to ask questions that have more to do with human nature (the flaws, in particular) and less to do with Africa and its "weird" customs. In a way, this raises questions about ethics and human behaviour. Shouldn't considerations of ethics in its pure and abstract form relate to other considerations such as the link between human inclinations and human expectations? Shouldn't human inclinations be built into human expectations? The issue of celibacy for catholic priests also comes to mind here.

Against Excess

From an Igbo perspective, the central issue in all these controversies is excess (from Paula Jones, Gennifer Flowers, and Linda Tripp to Bill Clinton, Kenneth Starr and the media). Igbo culture frowns at excess. Through numerous cultural marks - proverbs, folktales, ceremonies, etc. - Igboland exhorts her sons and daughters to walk in balance - the hallmark of Igboland. Readers of Chinua Achebe's Things Fall Apart know this fact too well after witnessing the fall of the protagonist, Okonkwo (an Igbo man). Okonkwo failed because he was excessive in an environment that abhors excess.

References

Achebe, Chinua. Things Fall Apart. Greenwich: Fawcett Crest, 1959.

Clinton, Hillary Rodham. It Takes A Village. New York: Simon & Schuster, 1996.

Morrison, Toni. The Bluest Eye. New York: Holt, Rinehart and Winston, 1970.

Nnaemeka, Obioma, "Bringing African Women into the Classroom: Rethinking Pedagogy and Epistemology." In Margaret Higgonet, ed. Borderwork: Feminist Engagements with Comparative Literature, Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1994, 301-318.

© Copyright 2000 Africa Resource Center, Inc.

Citation Format

Nnaemeka, Obioma. (2000). THE CLINTON CONTROVERSIES AND THE AFRICAN (IGBO) WORLD. West Africa Review: 2 , 1.[iuicode: http://www.icaap.org/iuicode?101.2.1.8]

Table of Contents

** Table of Contents

1. Of Course, it Takes a Village!
2. Power and Speech
3. Feminist Illusions
4. Against Excess
5. References