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Jubilee
House, victim of our slash and burn politics?
E. Ablorh-Odjidja, Ghanadot
August 29, 2009
Slash and burn politics is when good ideas to develop society
fall victim to the political sentiment of the day. The term is
borrowed from the agricultural practices of peasants and
subsistence farmers.
But the difference between the
political enterprise and the agricultural ends with their
intentions. The intent of the agricultural is to grow whereas
the political, in this instance, is to destroy.
In the circumstance of the productive farmer, elements on the
land to be cleared, like long standing fruit trees, timber and
other cash producing plants are spared the scythe, regardless of
who planted them first.
The consideration asked is whether these standing assets are
economically viable for self-interest and community alike.
In the political “slash and burn” version, as exercised in
Ghana, there is no such pause for consideration.
Viable ideas and assets are taken down or burnt as the
new regime takes hold of the country.
Thus, the adage
“slash and burn” is affirmed.
No political ideas are sacrosanct in the face of this
adage and for las long as the other political opponent comes to
power, seeking vengeance on its enemies.
In the myopic eyes of such opponent in power, it is only the
politics of the day, his politics, that matter.
This is true for most of the regimes we have had since
February 24, 1966.
Since then, ideas have been taken
down in rapid order with the coming of a new government.
Ideas and the reasons supporting them that could change society for
good, are forever put on ice because they were planted by a
previous government.
Sadly, nowhere in the exercise of
this pursuit is it ever considered what the cost for such act of
political vendetta brings to the state and society.
A case in point of this destructive dogma is what happened to the
Korle Lagoon after 1966.
An operation was in progress for
the dredging and modernization of the Korle Lagoon as a
waterfront for business and recreation.
The project, for no reason, was stopped abruptly after
the coup.
The result was surrounding areas of the lagoon were allowed to
fester.
What was once planned to be an economically viable area was left
open as breeding ground for mosquitoes, disease, rot and
makeshift settlements for denizens of the present Sodom and
Gomorrah community.
And now, the same “slash and burnt”
dogma has made the Jubilee House its new target.
The Jubilee House is the intended presidential palace, the seat of
our executive branch of government and a commemorative of what
used to be Kwame Nkrumah’s home and office.
It stands
ostensibly complete in its entire splendor after the expenditure
of some millions of dollars, even if much of it was a soft loan
from India’s government.
It is hard to know what exactly goes on at the Jubilee House at
present. But the building looks unoccupied, vacant of any spirit
and purpose and, apparently, of no use to the state since none
has been announced.
It has been left standing, vacant
for us lay men to wonder how to recover some use out of the
millions of dollars already spent on this project.
It is
time to ask whether it is the purpose of using it as an
executive office or the honor for our illustrious President
Nkrumah which is under attack with this neglect.
And whether in this year’s celebration of Nkrumah's centennial, the
home he last occupied is on our exhibit list?
Equally
important to consider for the purposes of our cultural dignity,
is the continuing use of the Osu Castle, otherwise known as the
Slave Fort.
It looks like the executive seat, at the behest of the new regime,
has become entrenched here as the imprimatur of our acceptance
of slavery, when we have the opportunity of use of the Jubilee
House to renounce that notion.
Slavery and the memory of
it hurt.
The question to ask is whether anybody took time to study the face
of Michelle or her husband President Obama, on their state
visit, while they were on location at the Osu, and Cape Coast
Castles?
The symbolism of having the first Black
president of the most powerful state on a visit to Ghana would
be too much. Too
intoxicating at the time.
But if anybody did, he would have noticed the anguish on
the faces of President Obama and Michelle.
The dark matters of slavery were raised in the minds of Obama and
his wife.
African-American visitors do remember. Their cultural memory of
slavery runs deep. When confronted with the history of slave
forts, they are forced to consider.
And we should be certain that most of them would prefer to preserve
these slave forts as sanctuaries of shame and not one to honor
with the housing of our presidents.
I was told a sad
story by a videographer, from one of our state media
institutions, on a visit to Cape Coast Castle to record the
performances of a visiting US cultural troop and one of our own
some ten years ago. What happened should have served as a
lesson.
After the Ghanaian troop had performed it came
the turn of our African-American brethren.
To the surprise and disappointment of the audience, the African
American group refused to perform. It was too much for them to
dance on the sacred graves of their ancestors.
You would have thought that our fixation with ceremonies for the
dead could have allowed us a premonition.
That, in other
words, some historical spaces must be left for appropriate
usage. The African American group would not dance on what they
considered sacred grounds. Our executive seat of government
should not be housed in a slave fort.
But we have done so.
Seemingly, the dogma of “slash and burn”
by some demands that we
pass over the completed Jubilee House for use as the seat of the
executive branch of government.
As a result, the Osu Castle, the former slave fort, is where we
receive our august visitors.
E. Ablorh-Odjidja,Publsiher
www.ghanadot.com,
Washington, DC, August 29, 2009
Permission to publish: Please feel free to publish or
reproduce, with credits, unedited. If posted at a website,
email a copy of the web page to
publisher@ghanadot.com . Or
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