Latest News Archive

Please select Category, Year, and then Month to display items
Previous Archive
19 May 2020 | Story Cornelius Hagenmeier and Prof Colin Chasi | Photo Supplied
Cornelius Hagenmeier.

Africa is defined by colonial borders, within which states attempt to build viable systems. Universities are a significant part of the national innovation systems that seek to change the socio-economic and other fortunes of the many poor and marginalised Africans. As Africa approaches the celebrations on the occasion of the 57th anniversary of the founding of the Organisation of African Unity (OAU), the COVID-19 crisis reveals – if we are willing to see it – that there is a need to focus much attention on intra-Africa internationalisation programmes for African higher education.

Because national socio-economic and health systems are often inadequate, Covid-19 protects unprecedented human and social suffering for many on the continent. To try and stave off this harm throughout the continent, borders have been closed and economies have been stifled. Except for the ‘repatriation’ of citizens, international travel has become all but impossible. Africans have, as never before, been bound to colonial boundaries, which are preserved according to a principle called uti-possidetis. This principle was reluctantly ratified by members of the Organisation of African Union (OAU) in July 1964. This ratification was reluctant, because leaders recognised that African boundaries were arbitrarily and chaotically imposed in the scramble for Africa. These borders were not developed by internal historical processes. In consequence, they divide kith from kin, limiting trade and commerce across the continent. Nevertheless, leaders adopted the uti-possidetis principle for fear that allowing the contestation of these borders would likely yield territorial wars that would bring heightened misery without end. 

State power in Africa today is exercised within postcolonial borders that continue to be weak and porous. It is also exercised by states that are themselves generally weak. These states take their health-promoting actions to neighbourhoods that often have inadequate socio-economic and health systems for combating COVID-19. They entrap us in compartments that produce lives that are short and brutish.  We would do well to ask how we can decolonise our borders in ways that set us free to change socio-economic fortunes.

Within the confining arrangements of state power, the health threat of the COVID-19 pandemic has been met with almost every African country adopting stringent health precautions, often resulting in sudden, sharp economic declines. With this, the livelihoods of millions are in jeopardy. African higher education has not escaped the resultant challenges.
The higher education sector is struggling to adapt. To be sure, in many ways, it is producing mighty work. Many books and journals will write about how systems moved significant aspects of teaching and learning online, often with great success, sometimes with great frustrations. At the same time, Africans rightly expect higher education systems to contribute to finding immediate responses to the pandemic threat. In many cases, universities are assisting by researching the coronavirus genome, developing effective and cost-efficient necessities such as personal protective equipment and ventilators; or by researching effective vaccines, medication, and public-health interventions. However, it is difficult to find excellent examples of how these steps are changing national narratives, particularly those that bind us to colonial miseries.

The African Union (AU), which is the successor to the OAU, is trying to build multilateral efforts. It has developed an ‘Africa Joint Continental Strategy for COVID-19 Outbreak’ and established an ‘Africa Taskforce for Coronavirus’. These efforts seek to foster collaboration between multilateral stakeholders. For the African Union recognises that to adequately address the crises occasioned by COVID-19, it is necessary that member states, African Union agencies, the World Health Organization and other partners work synergistically to avoid duplication and to maximise efficiencies, given that resources are extremely constrained. 

A central tenet of the OAU is African solidarity. Member states have undertaken to coordinate and intensify their cooperation and efforts to achieve a better life for the people of Africa. It is encouraging that the AU’s Chairperson, President Cyril Ramaphosa, refers to pan-Africanist ideas when he calls for the ‘strengthening of the bonds of solidarity that exist between us as Africans’ (24 April 2020). Ideas of African togetherness, underpinned by the philosophy of ubuntu, must inspire African solidarity. They are more relevant than ever before. 

It is vital that we think, beyond this COVID-19 crisis, of how long-run coordination of African higher education institutions in Africa must produce continent-wide systems of innovation that take us out of perpetual poverty, disease, and unnecessary deaths.

African higher education is struggling to define its place in the rapidly changing realities of the continent. Many institutions are driven to merely concentrate on how they will survive, or on how sprouting areas of excellence will make it through adverse financial conditions that emerge. 

Africa is at a critical juncture. How we make it through COVID-19 and what we learn from doing so, will determine whether Africa unites as we shape the post-COVID-19 future.

Prof Colin Chasi. (Photo: Anja Aucamp.) 

Periods of great strife, devastation, and hardship are opportunities for radical renewal and quantum leaps in development. But we must have the courage to take those opportunities. If we have the courage to unleash our universities in the kinds of continent-changing work that is needed, the fortunes of African countries are, after all,  tied together (no matter what colonial boundaries and divisions may say). 

The decisions that will be made during and in the wake of the pandemic will determine whether the crisis and its aftermath will allow the continent to focus on becoming a prospering, united world power, or whether national egoism (tied to colonial histories) will prevail and hinder sustainable development. 

How African higher education evolves in the post-pandemic world will largely depend on whether universities will be able to embrace the interconnectedness and interdependency of Africa’s social and economic realities. African higher education systems must escape the temptation to respond to immediate challenges in isolation. These times should teach us that when your neighbour catches the flu, your home economy suffers too. However, where people should observe social distancing to overcome the flu, economies must reach across borders if they are to flourish in markets large enough to truly impart value to ideas, services, and goods.

Higher education should serve African people by advancing social transformation and development through collaboration in skills development and research. Through intra-African partnerships and collaborations, African universities can make significant contributions to finding responses to the peculiar public health and medical challenges of emerging African societies and shaping a prosperous and unified post-pandemic Africa.

Many African higher education institutions excel in specific fields. The quality of programmes and research is not uniform throughout institutions. We need to lead the world in recognising each other’s strengths to produce intensified collaboration in capacity development and research. In doing this work, higher education will go far beyond repeating and mimicking colonial patterns, or if you wish, it will go beyond colonial boundaries. It will be a key driver in finding responses to the cross-cutting challenges that need to be resolved to fulfil the aspirations of Africa’s Agenda 2063. Indeed, by leveraging the complementary strengths of its higher education institutions, the continental higher education system could become a critical force shaping a positive post-COVID-19 African reality. Pan-Africanism in higher education should not be limited to isolated initiatives such as the development of the Pan-African University, but should establish a framework for sustained continental academic collaboration.  

As African universities prepare to contribute to the celebrations for the 57th anniversary of the OAU, they should consider how they can strengthen intra-African collaboration to achieve the pan-African vision of ‘an integrated, prosperous and peaceful Africa, driven by its own citizens, representing a dynamic force in the international arena’ (AU vision statement). 

Fortunately, there are excellent points of departure. Laudable programmes such as the Association of African Universities staff exchange programme already exist, yet much of the intra-African higher education collaboration is still financed by foreign donors. The African Union, African governments, and the African higher education sector influence the structure of those programmes through consultation, and consequently minimise the risk of them responding to the international perceptions of African needs rather than real African needs. This should be strengthened, not least through committing equity to the formulation of joint programmes. 

For the brave new world in which we must make space for our children to thrive, brave new African frameworks for collaboration should be developed. Energy must be invested in removing obstacles to African higher education collaboration. Some of the things that need to be done are well known. Practical measures could include strengthening the harmonisation of African higher education accreditation and quality assurance mechanisms, establishing an African credit recognition and transfer system, and fast-tracking the harmonisation of African higher education programmes. The celebration of 2020 Africa Day should encourage African higher education to work towards devising a strategy for strengthening collaboration, which would assist the continent in shaping a positive post-COVID-19 African reality. If this can be achieved, African universities could emerge as genuine agents of achieving solidarity and development in post-pandemic Africa, and thus realising the ideals of the OAU.

News Archive

Media: Sunday Times
2006-05-20

Sunday Times, 4 June 2006

True leadership may mean admitting disunity
 

In this edited extract from the inaugural King Moshoeshoe Memorial Lecture at the University of the Free State, Professor Njabulo S Ndebele explores the leadership challenges facing South Africa

RECENT events have created a sense that we are undergoing a serious crisis of leadership in our new democracy. An increasing number of highly intelligent, sensitive and committed South Africans, across class, racial and cultural spectrums, confess to feeling uncertain and vulnerable as never before since 1994.

When indomitable optimists confess to having a sense of things unhinging, the misery of anxiety spreads. We have the sense that events are spiralling out of control and that no one among the leadership of the country seems to have a definitive handle on things.

There can be nothing more debilitating than a generalised and undefined sense of anxiety in the body politic. It breeds conspiracies and fear.

There is an impression that a very complex society has developed, in the last few years, a rather simple, centralised governance mechanism in the hope that delivery can be better and more quickly driven. The complexity of governance then gets located within a single structure of authority rather than in the devolved structures envisaged in the Constitution, which should interact with one another continuously, and in response to their specific settings, to achieve defined goals. Collapse in a single structure of authority, because there is no robust backup, can be catastrophic.

The autonomy of devolved structures presents itself as an impediment only when visionary cohesion collapses. Where such cohesion is strong, the impediment is only illusory, particularly when it encourages healthy competition, for example, among the provinces, or where a province develops a character that is not necessarily autonomous politically but rather distinctive and a special source of regional pride. Such competition brings vibrancy to the country. It does not necessarily challenge the centre.

Devolved autonomy is vital in the interests of sustainable governance. The failure of various structures to actualise their constitutionally defined roles should not be attributed to the failure of the prescribed governance mechanism. It is too early to say that what we have has not worked. The only viable corrective will be in our ability to be robust in identifying the problems and dealing with them concertedly.

We have never had social cohesion in South Africa — certainly not since the Natives’ Land Act of 1913. What we definitely have had over the decades is a mobilising vision. Could it be that the mobilising vision, mistaken for social cohesion, is cracking under the weight of the reality and extent of social reconstruction, and that the legitimate framework for debating these problems is collapsing? If that is so, are we witnessing a cumulative failure of leadership?

I am making a descriptive rather than an evaluative inquiry. I do not believe that there is any single entity to be blamed. It is simply that we may be a country in search of another line of approach. What will it be?

I would like to suggest two avenues of approach — an inclusive model and a counter-intuitive model of leadership.

In an inclusive approach, leadership is exercised not only by those who have been put in some position of power to steer an organisation or institution. Leadership is what all of us do when we express, sincerely, our deepest feelings and thoughts; when we do our work, whatever it is, with passion and integrity.

Counter-intuitive leadership lies in the ability of leaders to read a problematic situation, assess probable outcomes and then recognise that those outcomes will only compound the problem. Genuine leadership, in this sense, requires going against probability in seeking unexpected outcomes. That’s what happened when we avoided a civil war and ended up with an “unexpected” democracy.

Right now, we may very well hear desperate calls for unity, when the counter-intuitive imperative would be to acknowledge disunity. A declaration of unity where it manifestly does not appear to exist will fail to reassure.

Many within the “broad alliance” might have the view that the mobilising vision of old may have transformed into a strategy of executive steering with a disposition towards an expectation of compliance. No matter how compelling the reasons for that tendency, it may be seen as part of a cumulative process in which popular notions of democratic governance are apparently undermined and devalued; and where public uncertainty in the midst of seeming crisis induces fear which could freeze public thinking at a time when more voices ought to be heard.

Could it be that part of the problem is that we are unable to deal with the notion of opposition? We are horrified that any of us could be seen to have become “the opposition”. The word has been demonised. In reality, it is time we began to anticipate the arrival of a moment when there is no longer a single, overwhelmingly dominant political force as is currently the case. Such is the course of history. The measure of the maturity of the current political environment will be in how it can create conditions that anticipate that moment rather than seek to prevent it. We see here once more the essential creativity of the counter-intuitive imperative.

This is the formidable challenge of a popular post-apartheid political movement. Can it conceptually anticipate a future when it is no longer overwhelmingly in control, in the form in which it is currently, and resist, counter-intuitively, the temptation to prevent such an eventuality? Successfully resisting such an option would enable its current vision and its ultimate legacy to our country to manifest in different articulations, which then contend for social influence. In this way, the vision never really dies; it simply evolves into higher, more complex forms of itself. Consider the metaphor of flying ants replicating the ant community by establishing new ones.

We may certainly experience the meaning of comradeship differently, where we will now have “comrades on the other side”.

Any political movement that imagines itself as a perpetual entity should look at the compelling evidence of history. Few movements have survived those defining moments when they should have been more elastic, and that because they were not, did not live to see the next day.

I believe we may have reached a moment not fundamentally different from the sobering, yet uplifting and vision-making, nation-building realities that led to Kempton Park in the early ’90s. The difference between then and now is that the black majority is not facing white compatriots across the negotiating table. Rather, it is facing itself: perhaps really for the first time since 1994. Could we apply to ourselves the same degree of inventiveness and rigorous negotiation we displayed leading up to the adoption or our Constitution?

This is not a time for repeating old platitudes. It is the time, once more, for vision.

In the total scheme of things, the outcome could be as disastrous as it could be formative and uplifting, setting in place the conditions for a true renaissance that could be sustained for generations to come.

Ndebele is Vice-Chancellor of the University of Cape Town and author of the novel The Cry of Winnie Mandela

We use cookies to make interactions with our websites and services easy and meaningful. To better understand how they are used, read more about the UFS cookie policy. By continuing to use this site you are giving us your consent to do this.

Accept